by Bill Smith
Marath walked away from the assassin, hoping, and only hoping, that the assassin could get close enough to attack his prey before Alinor interfered again. The old wizard was becoming a nuisance, and would have to be eliminated, if he continued to block Marath's plans.
Marath turned the corner of a building, and grunted as his true form burst the human body apart, then grew to its full size. The Overlord flapped his huge wings, and leaped into the air. Just as he cleared the rooftops of Vroll, Marath shimmered out of existence, returning to his invisible state.
Unbeknownst even to Marath, the God of Destruction, Kra, watched and waited.
The time was near.
***
Aleya's eyes opened sleepily. Her vision was blurred, but she blinked a few times, and it was gone. When she looked around, the door to her cell was standing open, and Ghin was inside the doorway with a lantern.
"Sorry to wake you," the wizard said, "but I finally finished the lock spell on your new room. So you don't have to sleep in this dank cell any more!"
"Huh?" Aleya yawned, stretching her arms.
Ghin stood to the side and gestured down the hall.
"What?" Aleya said, her mind slowly coming awake.
"Come with me, I'll show you. Bring your things."
Aleya stood up and pulled a dress, pen, paper, and a lantern from the foot of her bed. Those things, and the nightgown she was wearing, had all been given her by the wizard. Now he was taking her to an actual room instead of a cell. When Ghin had first brought her to Jonsaria, his castle, he had given her a tour, and reluctantly stated that his only available room was the tower cell and the dungeon. They were the only ones with outside locks. Ghin had promised to find her a comfortable room within the week.
It had been a week since she'd come here, and she hadn't particularly enjoyed it, but it wasn't Hell, as she'd first assumed. Ghin was nice...or pretended to be. He was just holding her against her will until the Puppet arrived.
Ghin was a total mystery to Aleya. The wizard was very hospitable, and let her roam free during the day, and he kept a very clean castle. Inside, it was beautiful, with art work, sculptures, and tapestries...things one would expect in a mansion or palace. Jonsaria was practically dust free, and things cleaned themselves. Aleya couldn't find any servants, anywhere. Ghin would invite her down for dinner, and the table would be set. After they finished eating, they would both leave, and if Aleya returned, she would find the dining table spotless. When she asked him about servants, he shrugged and said that things seemed to work of their own accord around this castle.
Aleya gave up on it the first day. During sunlight hours, she spent her time in the library, or the gardens, or the sun room. Ghin would often have talks with her, on politics, nature, people, books, philosophy, or relationships, but he never spoke of his purpose for her here. When asked, he would skillfully shift subjects before he could answer.
So Aleya gave up on that, too. Despite her resolve not to, she found herself beginning to like the man. He had a funny personality, and was easy to talk to. When it came to seeing his future, though, Aleya saw only a dog chasing its tail. It was rare that Aleya's visions came in a form she could distinguish from dreams, but when they did, they were usually confusing. Most of the time, her prophecies and foretellings just overtook her body, and Borim was the one who explained what they meant after she regained consciousness.
Even though Borim was not an interpreter, he was quite good at it. He could extract meanings from the most vague statements, and they always made sense.
As she thought of Borim, Aleya became anxious. She knew he was on his way here, but she couldn't tell if Lia and Bolthorn were with him. Hopefully, Borim was bringing a whole army. Borim was formidable, but Ghin could easily kill him.
Aleya's prophecying and divination allowed her greater insight into many things. Even though she knew very little about Ghin, she knew that he was very deadly, and he played a role in the conflict taking place here. The wizard's powers were tremendous, but she had a sense that Ghin wasn't...whole. That was the only word she could use to describe him.
"Here you go!" Ghin proclaimed, throwing open the door to her new room. When they walked in, Ghin began pointing out the various objects. To the right of the door was a covered bed, and past that, at an angle to that wall, was a fireplace. Along the right wall was a huge pile of firewood. The wall opposite the door was the balcony, and a large dresser. Adjacent to her room was a walk-in wardrobe, a study, and a bathing room. "These used to be my quarters," Ghin said, "but I built a new east wing, and decided to have my room there, overlooking the lake. The balcony is facing the same direction, to the west, and you can even see your old room, in that tower over there. See?"
Aleya nodded. "Thank you."
"I hope you are more comfortable. There are clothes in the closet, and oils in the bath. But don't make the water too hot, we don't want to boil you in oil!" Ghin grinned and elbowed her. Aleya stared back at him blankly, and he waved his hand at her. "Never mind. Have a good sleep! I'll see you in the morning. Good night."
Ghin closed the door. There was no bolt clicking into place, or a key turning, but Aleya knew it was locked. He had probably spent the past week developing a spell to keep her locked in. Of course, unless something was hindering him, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes to cast a locking spell.
Aleya sighed and crawled under the covers, then promptly fell asleep.
***
Bolthorn, Borim, and Lia were seated at the table, over several mugs of ale. "We've looked everywhere in this town," Borim said, his words slightly slurred from the ale. "And Aleya is nowhere. Nobody's seen her, and nobody knows where she went."
"We still have tomorrow," Lia said soothingly. "We'll look then, and we can go to the surrounding farms. Maybe somebody there knows. We'll find her, don't worry."
Borim sighed and put his palms over his eyes. "I know," he sighed. "I'd better get some sleep. I'll see you two tomorrow. Good night." The boy stood up and walked up the stairs, to his room.
When he was gone, Lia said, "He really loves her."
"But I don't understand their relationship? Are they related?"
Lia shook her head. "No. Aleya told me that she was apprenticed to an Oracle when she was two, and stayed at the temple for fourteen years. But all through her life, Borim was her Guardian, or Protector. That's his whole purpose, is to protect her."
"But why?"
Lia shrugged. "Custom. The Oracle has a Protector, so I assume she needs one too."
"Oh," Bolthorn said. "It's like the princess."
"Excuse me?"
"All female members of the Daynar family, the royal family, choose a Champion on their sixteenth birthday. It's preferred that the Champion be the same age, so he doesn't get too old to protect her by the time she becomes queen. Princess Alleria just chose her Champion a month ago, I believe. I think he's a year younger, though."
"That's odd," Lia mused aloud. "You would think they would assign someone with greater sword skill. Someone older."
"Borim's good. And he'll get better. He's been using the sword all his life; in some ways, he's better than me. It won't be long before he is better than me...with the sword. But the reason they choose bodyguards the same age is so the bodyguards don't die of old age before the person they're protecting does."
Lia laughed.
"It's true. For some reason, forming a bond between the protector and protectee is important."
"'Protectee' isn't a word."
"So?"
***
At the crack of dawn, Falgor's forces assaulted Allanon. Tens of thousands of the Minion hurled themselves against the impenetrable fortress, sheer force of will. By noon, it became apparent that another strategy would need to be devised; the Minion were being butchered, and the Karoks had lost less than ten warriors in five hours.
***
Later in the day, Doronar knocked on Lily's door with his left hand.
She opened it a moment later, and gasped when she saw his bandaged hand. "What happened?"
"I, uh, got burned."
"How bad is it?"
Doronar shrugged, and Lily pulled him inside, shutting the door. "Unwrap your hand," she said. The healer began pulling ingredients from around the disorganized room, and piling them on the table. She grabbed a book and sat down next to the Dragon. When he finished unwrapping his hand, Lily gasped. "Gods!" she hissed. "What did you do?"
"I had another vision."
Lily shot him an apprehensive look, then said, "Let me look at this first, then tell me about it." She held up his forearm at the elbow, and examined the burns. "What did you do, let this sit in flames for ten minutes?"
"Yes."
"Wh-Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Religious fanatic," she muttered, flipping through the book.
Doronar smiled.
After a moment, Lily stopped and read a page. She skimmed through a few more pages until she came to the recipe she wanted. "Keep your arm above the table." As the healer measured and prepared her ingredients, she said, "Were you just going to let it rot?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Your arm. Did you have any intention of healing it?"
"I knew I was coming to see you today."
Lily snorted. After a few minutes, she set her concoction in a bowl and set it above a burner. While that was burning, she sat cross-legged on her bench and turned toward Doronar. "Hold out your arm."
He pushed it in front of her, and she placed her fingers gently on the burned surface. Doronar sucked in through his teeth, but held still. She traced down his arm along invisible lines, dispersing her energy slowly and cautiously. The time passed slowly, and then seemed to stop as Doronar fell into a stupor.
Lily continued her work, and after ten minutes, pulled her hands away. Doronar blinked, and saw that instead of bony, charred sticks, he had a full, pink hand. His veins stood out, and he could almost see the muscles themselves.
"All right," Lily sighed, wiping her forehead. "The burn has been healed, but there is a lot of skin missing. Keep it wrapped up, change the bandage every day, and apply this salve," she held up her bowl. "I don't want you putting your hand in a fire...ever."
Doronar nodded.
Lily poured the bowl into a bottle-necked jar and plugged up the top. She handed it to him, then stood up and stretched. While she was cleaning up her materials, she said, "What was your vision?"
"Well, it wasn't exactly a vision, I think it was a telepathic communication."
"With who?"
"He said his name was Rinas. He said he was a Dragon Knight."
Lily looked at him blankly.
"From Draconia."
Lily looked at him blankly.
"The legendary country that is ruled by dragons."
Lily looked at him blankly.
"That's my vision. I asked him who he was, and he told me. He asked me who I was, and I told him. That was it, before it was broken."
"I see," Lily murmured. She sat there for a moment, then said, "You should talk to a Lienite about what you saw. They can give you some answers. There is one in the library; he's an advisor to King Borric. Go speak with him and tell me what he has to say."
Doronar nodded and stood up. "If he turns up any information relating to you, I will return. Otherwise, I won't bother you again."
Lily shook his left hand and said, "Come by and visit me sometime. I would enjoy it. People get hurt so rarely around here."
***
Garen felt a slight tremor as he passed through the gate.
He had passed through the town of Vroll, not knowing where he was going, or why. Even entering this castle, he still didn't know.
Now, Garen was riding his pathetic horse into a drab and colorless lot, surrounded by a low stone wall. It looked like a barony, or a castle town, but there was no one around. Garen could see farms and buildings off a ways, but none appeared to be inhabited, and there were no lights. Except in the castle.
Up ahead, Garen could see torches and lantern light inside the castle windows. As he neared, he thought he could make out movement in the windows, but couldn't be sure.
Finally, when he neared the gate, the two doors swung open, and Garen could see a lone figure standing in the archway. Garen rode up to the man, and the man grinned. "Welcome to Jonsaria!" the man said.
Garen hopped off his horse and said, "Where?"
"Jonsaria. My name is Ghin," the young man stuck out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you. Please, go on into the dining hall. I will take care of your horse."
Garen nodded and walked in. The gates swung closed, and echoed through the keep. Inside, it was completely different from outdoors. There were beautiful statues, paintings, suits of armor, shields, and crests lining the walls. Stuffed animals stared at him from frozen hunting stances, through frozen eyes. In some respects, the castle was eerie, but in others, it reminded him of the Red Feather.
Garen walked into the dining hall, a huge throne room, with no throne and one table in the center. On the table were three plates of steaming food. In the center of the table was a bucket of ice, with three goblets and a bottle of wine.
Garen frowned. Had he walked in on someone's dinner?
For a few minutes, Garen just stood in the hall, waiting. When he was about to go in search of 'Ghin', Ghin and a young girl walked into the room.
"Good evening, Garen, is it?"
Garen couldn't recall introducing himself, or even having said one word.
"As I said, my name is Ghin, and I would like to introduce you to a very special guest of mine." Ghin and the girl stepped up to him, and Ghin said, "This is Aleya Farmer."
The girl extended her hand, and Garen took it. Instead of shaking it, he bent over, and placed his lips on her forehand. At the respectful gesture, a shiver ran down his spine. Half of him felt uncontrollable lust for the girl, and half of him felt a paralyzing fear. He ignored both halves.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Garen said, drinking in the sight of her. She had long blonde hair, with streaks of brown and pale yellow. Her hair was braided with flowers and leaves, giving her the look of a dryad. Aleya was a few inches shorter than Garen, who was small for his age. She had slightly tan skin, and soft features. The gown she wore gave her the appearance of a royal princess. The white dress had a low-cut bust line, and had ornate silver designs melted into the fabric.
"The pleasure is mine," Aleya replied, smiling. Then she called Borim.
"Please," Ghin said. "Have a seat at the table."
Garen noticed that Ghin was also wearing fine clothing, and he felt underdressed, in a traveler's cloak, tunic, and brown pants. Too late for that now.
"Eat," Ghin said. "Enjoy the food while you can."
Garen's eyes were on Aleya the whole time, and hers were on him, studying him, trying to see inside. "How did you know I was coming?" Garen asked.
"I saw you down the road, and asked one of my servants to prepare an extra plate."
"What servants?"
"They are in the kitchen, now. If you need something, just ask, and I'll fetch it for you."
Garen shook his head, and returned his eyes to Aleya. She looked about his age, maybe a little younger. The girl was probably Ghin's daughter. It was foolish to feel lust for her, at least while the man was around.
"So why have you come?" Ghin asked as he poured the wine. The question seemed casual, but there was an undertone of seriousness.
"You know why," Garen said, startling himself.
"No," Ghin corrected. "I don't. No one ever told me why. I assume your presence has to do with Aleya."
"Of course it does," Garen's mouth replied.
"What does it have to do with her?"
"She is needed, isn't that enough?" Garen asked. "Don't question orders, my friend. It could land you in a great deal of trouble. You won't get what you ask for."
"You won't get the girl, if I don't get payment."
Garen growled, "Don't even pretend to play with us, old man. You will lose. We will honor our end of the bargain, as you have honored yours."
"When?"
"When the ritual is completed," Garen said shortly. "Not before."
Aleya's sweat turned cold at the word 'ritual'. She called for Borim again.
***
Borim and Lia looked out the room's window.
"Did you hear something?" Lia asked.
Borim stood up slowly and walked up to the window. He put his face a few inches from the glass, and narrowed his eyes.
"What?" Bolthorn said.
"She's..." Borim said softly. Then he turned around. "Let's go."
Lia stood up and reached for her cloak.
"Go? Where?" Bolthorn asked. "What's going on?"
Lia said, "We're going to get Aleya."
***
Balan was a short man, just over five feet, but he was strong. He used to be the head of night security for the Red Feather, but when he broke his arm attacking a thief, they promoted him to nightmaster. That was three years ago, and even though he was healthy enough to return to his old job, Balan liked staying inside; it was quieter.
Generally.
He followed the girl, Briana, as fast as he could, but his large girth and short legs could only carry him so fast. "What is it?" Balan demanded angrily.
"Please, hurry!" Briana pleaded, tugging on his hand.
Grumbling, Balan followed her up the stairs, to the bunkroom. As they topped the steps, there was a cry from the end of the hall, and Briana ran ahead. She stopped in front of the door, and her hands flew up to her mouth.
Balan ran up to her, and froze when saw the scene in the bunkroom. Bornas, the midnight server, was standing in the middle of the room, panting. His face was full of rage, and he was towering above Alyssa. The server's balled up hand was streaked with blood.
Alyssa was on the ground, trying to crawl away from him. The left side of her face was swollen up and bleeding from several gashes. If Balan had looked away from Alyssa, at the other girls, he would have seen Belana's black eye.
"Alyssa!" Briana choked, running into the room. She dropped next to the brown-haired girl, who tried to push her away. Instead, Briana began crying herself, and pulling Alyssa away from Bornas. Briana started yelling obscenities at Bornas.
"Belana," Bornas said, ignoring Briana, "do we have to go through this every night? I don't-"
By now, every girl's eyes were trained on Balan. Bornas stopped and turned to the doorway. Balan kept his hatred locked up.
An immeasurable silence passed, and the blood drained from the server's face. "Bornas," Balan said quietly. "Please step outside with me. I would like to have a word with you."
Bornas swallowed. "Of course."
Balan gestured down the hall, and followed the midnight server outside. On the way out, when Balan passed his desk at the front door, he picked up a wooden mallet leaning against the side. By the time they were outside, the mallet was hidden in the folds of his cloak.
Bornas stopped and turned around. "Balan, let me explain. Those bitches-"
That was as far as he got.
The mallet swung out from Balan's cloak, and contacted solidly with Bornas's jaw. The server fell to the side, blood and teeth pouring from his mouth. He choked something indistinct, and Balan kicked him in the face. A large knot began swelling on the side of his head.
Bornas struggled to get away, and he managed to get to his feet, but the mallet smashed into his arm, shattering his elbow. With a scream, the server dropped to his knees, and then Bornas struck his jaw again. By now, the jaw bone was probably in ten pieces.
It began to rain.
The nightmaster knelt next to the server, and rolled him on his back. Balan checked for a heartbeat, and there was one. "Bornas," Balan said, "I am docking this week's pay, and taking compensation for damages to the Red Feather." As he said this, he cut the man's purse from his belt, and tucked it into his cloak. "Before you faint, I want you to hear this: if you ever come back to Althorien again, I will personally kill you. Never touch anyone here, again."
He patted the server's cheek, and Bornas groaned weakly. More blood flowed from his mouth.
Balan stood up and returned to the main entrance. He said to the two sentries, "Get him out of the courtyard before another tenant arrives. I don't want them to see such a waste of life on our premises."
"Balan," said one guard. "What did he do?"
"That's what I'm going to find out," Balan answered.
"Will he live?"
Balan shrugged. "It's possible. Not likely, but possible. Oh, and after you dump the body in the street, I want you to go find a Healer of Vash. But don't let them see Bornas, they'll insist on helping him. And take his clothes; we don't want anyone to know he worked here."
The guards nodded and walked toward the half-dead server.
***
Ranon was nervous throughout dinner.
King Borric had insisted they eat with him in the dining hall to celebrate another knighting. Knightings happened about once a week, and there was a feast to honor every single one. Alleria blamed it on her father's need to have a party every day. When they weren't feasting for a newly dubbed knight, they were feasting for a new treaty, or law, or some other thing that had no relevance to anyone's daily life.
The dining hall was, as always, noisy. Borric continued to probe Ranon about the war, jousts, and other stupid subjects. Since Ranon's... copulation with Alleria, which was just two nights ago, he lived in perpetual fear that Borric would discover them, and banish him from Althoria. Or worse. Alleria assured him that her father was too dumb to find out, even if there were clues. And there were none, so no one could find out.
Even so, every time Ranon was asked a question by the king, he thought the world was crashing down around him. He would stutter and sweat so much that Alleria invariably came to his rescue. It happened so often that Borric almost called in a healer to see if Ranon was ill.
After the dinner, Ranon followed Alleria down the hall with weak legs, relieved that he had been spared the wrath of Kra. When they arrived at Alleria's room, an hour past midnight, she said crossly, "Ranon, I wish you weren't so paranoid all the time. What happened between us will never be discovered. Who could find out about it? We were in this room the whole time, and nobody came in, or even saw. They couldn't have, do you understand?"
Ranon nodded mutely, taken aback by her sudden anger.
Alleria sighed and walked over to her wardrobe. "I'm sorry, Ranon. This has just been a little...trying for me. You're always too afraid. You need to get over it, especially if you're my Champion. It wouldn't do any good having you fight for me if you pissed yourself every time you saw a sword pointed in your direction."
Ranon stiffened, and his eyes darkened. "I-" Then he stopped, remembering who he was talking to.
Alleria had just unlaced the front of her dress, and she scowled, walking over to Ranon. He averted his eyes at her exposed cleavage. "Listen here, Ranon. I don't want you to treat me like a princess. You are going to be around me every day, for the rest of my life. If you treat me like some kind of goddess, I won't be able to-" she noticed he was looking to the side, so she grabbed his chin and pushed her face close to his. "Another thing. Always look at me when I talk to you. Understand?"
Ranon nodded stiffly.
"Good. Now what were you going to say?" Alleria queried, walking over to her wardrobe and slipping out of her dress, oblivious to her nudity.
"I was going to say that I am not a coward, and if there ever was a threat to your life, I would meet it with full force. Anyone who tried to hurt you would regret the day they were born."
Alleria hung her dress in the closet and turned toward him slightly, smiling. "That's the kind of talk I like to hear. You should have that much confidence in front of Father. He would much rather hear that than your babbling."
Ranon said nothing.
"Right now," Alleria pulled her nightgown out of the closet and slipped it over her slim frame, "he's beginning to have doubts. There's nothing he can do, of course, it would just help for you to be on his good side. Oh well."
When Alleria walked toward her bed, Ranon said, "I'll, uh, do my best. Good night."
"Where are you going?"
"To bed. Should I stay up?"
"No, that's fine. Good night."
Ranon walked to his room, and closed the door softly. He went into his bathing room and pulled on a chain in the corner of the room. A moment later, hot water began pouring into the tub, from rectangular niches in the tub wall. He held it down until the tub was full, and then began undressing.
Ranon slipped into the water with a sigh. For some reason, his muscles were sore. The water helped to soothe them, at least a little. After dozing for a few minutes, he reached for the soap behind his head, and when he found something solid, Ranon knew it wasn't soap. For a few moments, Ranon just let his hand rest there, and he licked his lips nervously.
"Looking for this?" Alleria asked, dropping the soap into the tub. It plopped into the water and then floated to the surface.
Ranon removed his hand from her foot, and he moved to the other side of the tub, so he could see her. "Is there something I can...do for you?" he asked, pausing when he noticed she was naked.
Alleria stepped into the water so it came just above her breasts, which helped him a bit. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, Ranon. I came in to apologize."
"Like this?"
"No. Well, sort of. I just noticed you were in here, and it looked inviting. I usually bathe in the morning, but the air is getting colder, now that it's winter."
Ranon licked his lips when she moved nearer. "Alleria, I don't know if we should, uh...be doing this again. It was a mistake that one time, we were drunk, and-"
Alleria then moved across the tub and pushed against him, her breasts pressing against his chest. "Drunk? My ears were ringing, and that was it. I don't really think that qualifies as drunkenness."
"But-"
Alleria put her finger on his lips. "Ranon, we're not in love, but let's make love, okay? It's a completely natural act, and I can't think of anything else I'd rather do right now."
"But-"
Alleria kissed him, and Ranon's will dissolved. His arms pulled her against his body, and Alleria's legs came up on either side of him, her feet resting next to his buttocks. She raised up a bit, and grabbed his cock with her hands.
Ranon moaned as she sank down fully onto his shaft. Their heat built rapidly as they set up the rhythm of sex. It wasn't long before both teenagers were screaming their orgasms into each other's mouths.
Ranon woke up at that moment, panting and sweating. He looked around the bathing room. There was no sign of Alleria, and the soap was still sitting next to his clothes.
***
The gate swung open, and the trio walked into the huge castle. Inside, it was totally different from the outside. There was art, sculptures, and light. It was a very nice place, but there was a strange feeling, as though someone was constantly watching.
"There," Borim pointed to the dining hall. "Someone's in there."
When the gates closed, Ghin looked up at Garen and said, "They're here."
Garen swore and jumped to his feet. "What? How did they get here so quickly? You gave me away!" he turned his eyes on Ghin.
"No I didn't," Ghin said. "They probably followed you here. How long does the ritual take?"
"Too long, now that they've arrived," Garen said. He grabbed Aleya's wrist and jerked her to her feet. She gave a startled cry, and Garen said, "I'm sorry I have to cut our dinner short, but your presence is required. Ghin, stall them as long as you can."
"With what?" Ghin asked. "My fists?"
For a brief moment, Garen debated, then shot an obscene gesture in Ghin's direction. He flicked his wrist. "There. You have your powers back. Now kill them!"
Ghin grinned and stood up as Garen dragged Aleya upstairs.
Borim, Bolthorn, and Lia entered just in time to see the pair leaving.
"Aleya!" Borim cried, running after her.
"Uh, uh, uh," Ghin said, waving his fingers in Borim's direction. The boy was suddenly hurled backwards, as if struck by a huge fist. Borim stood up, bleeding from his nose, and snarled, "You bastard! Where are they going?"
"Well," Ghin said with exagerrated thoughtfulness. "I believe he is going to perform the 13th sacrificial ritual, to Tir. Aleya will be the sacrifice, sadly."
Borim yanked out his sword, and charged Ghin.
Ghin lunged forward and threw his fist out. A blast of invisible energy smashed into all three of them. Bolthorn and Borim slammed into the wall, and dropped into heaps. Lia was the only one standing. Her hand was extended forward, palm out.
"Nice to see I still have the touch, on some people," Ghin observed.
Lia made a few gestures with her other hand, and lightning exploded from her fingertips. It lanced across the room and struck Ghin full in the chest, but he just looked down at the disintigrated clothing and said, "That tickles."
"What-" Lia started.
Ghin interrupted her. He reached out and grabbed the air in front of him, then pulled toward him. Lia squawked, and she floated up, then flew to Ghin, stopping a few feet in front of him.
"What do we have here?" Ghin asked. "A sorceress?"
Lia's mouth worked silently, and she finally choked, "W-Who are you?"
"My name is Ghin," he said, taking the lace of her dress between his thumb and forefinger. "I assume you are Lia? Yes, yes, of course you are," he grinned. Ghin pulled on the lace, and, even though it wasn't designed to do so, all the laces pulled free, exposing Lia's bare chest.
"What are you doing!" Lia demanded, blushing and struggling against her invisible bonds.
"A man of my age rarely finds such a morsel as this," Ghin grinned, brushing her nipples with his fingertips.
"Age? How old are you?" He didn't look a day over thirty.
"Aw, I stopped counting two centuries ago."
Lia began struggling harder, even though it yielded nothing. "Listen, Ghin, you-" Lia gasped when his mouth covered her breast.
Ghin began sucking on her nipple, gently pinching it with his teeth. His hand slipped inside her open dress and moved across her bare stomach to her back.
Lia shuddered as the build increased between her legs.
Ghin traced a finger from her navel to the hem of her dress, and it split open, as though he had used a knife. Now her dress was just hanging on by the shoulders.
"P-Please," Lia said. "Don't do this."
Ghin pushed her dress aside, then moved a hand between her legs.
"Oh gods," Lia whimpered, tears springing to her eyes.
"It's so wonderful to have my powers back," Ghin murmured. He stepped back and looked at the shapely girl before him, and grinned. "Watch this."
Lia paled when he held up a single finger and pushed it between her legs. She felt his fingertip sliding along her nether lips, gathering her moisture, making her tingle. "What are you-" Lia broke off as his finger plunged into her womanhood. A sudden barrage of sexual energies slammed into her, and she orgasmed powerfully. Her body arched with the sudden release, as the powerful sensations rocked her body. For nearly ten whole seconds, she spasmed on the end of his finger, and screamed blissfully.
When the sensations died down, Lia looked at Ghin, her eyes unfocused and wet. "Wh-Why did...you do that?" she panted.
Ghin grinned even wider. "Because I can. Now watch this." He slowly slid his finger out of her dripping pussy, and moved his finger up her lips, toward her clit. As soon as his finger reached the sensitive spot, he pushed against it, and another orgasm blasted through her body.
This orgasm was twice as powerful as the first. When her scream of ecstasy eventually turned into a whimper of helplessness, Ghin smiled. He unbuckled his belt, and lowered his pants. His hard member sprang free, and Lia gasped at its size. Surely it wasn't meant to fit on someone of Ghin's stature!
Then Ghin stopped his levitation, and Lia dropped to the ground. Her feet hit the stone, and then she dropped to her knees, sagging back. Ghin grabbed her hair and held her head up.
"What are you-mph!" Lia's eyes widened when Ghin opened her jaw with his hand, and thrust his erection inside. It was so big, Lia wouldn't be able to take it all, but Ghin forced it as far as it would go, and began rocking his hips into her face.
Lia whimpered and cried the entire time, but Ghin ignored her, and continued fucking her face. Ten minutes passed, but finally he came, and his cock began spurting its load into Lia's throat. Gallons, it seemed, of hot seed began emptying into Lia's throat. She had to swallow, just so she wouldn't drown.
When Ghin was spent, he pulled out, and Lia coughed, splattering semen on the ground.
"Should I let you rest?" Ghin asked.
Lia moaned weakly, and Ghin pulled her up by her shoulder. "You're right. You don't need rest." He levitated her up again, and mentally spread her legs. Somehow, Ghin's cock was hard again, and he aimed it up between her legs.
"Ghin!" a voice thundered.
Lia's eyes snapped open.
Ghin dropped the elf girl, and she landed on the balls of her feet, then spun around. At the entrance to the dining hall, a man in a gray cloak stood, arms folded. Behind him was a tall armored knight, leaning on a sword.
"Father!" Lia cried.
"Alin...Father?" Ghin's terrified eyes turned on Lia, but she was scowling at Alinor.
"What are you doing here?" Lia demanded.
"I came to lend a hand," Alinor replied.
"I don't need you here!" Lia snapped. "You have far more imp-"
"You don't?" Jonas said dryly. "By the looks of it..." he trailed off.
Lia looked down and flushed red. With a flick of her fingers, a whole new outfit materialized over her body. Leather boots, pants, traveling cloak, a belt, and a tight-fitting tunic replaced the dress. "Can't a girl have some fun?" Lia said.
"Not if you're in Alinor's family," Jonas said.
"Enough," Alinor said. "Lia, go find Garen. Kill him if you can, but be careful."
Lia bit back her response, and darted up the stairs. She ran up the winding staircase until she arrived at the roof. Garen was standing next to an altar, chanting in a deep voice. On the altar, Aleya was tied down. Her eyes were closed tightly, and she was trembling.
"Garen!" Lia said.
The boy spun around, and his eyes narrowed. "How did you-"
"Ghin is a weakling," Lia replied. "Now give me Aleya, or I will kill you."
Garen stepped next to the altar and withdrew a knife from his cloak. "Try it, and she dies."
Then Borim was standing next to Lia. "Whoever you are," Borim said slowly, "I know one thousand ways to kill people. Nine hundred are by torture. If you lay a finger on her, you will die."
Garen started to look nervous, and he said, "It is too late. I have her-"
"It is too late," Lia replied. "For you. We are here. You cannot complete the ritual, and if you kill her, someone will just take her place. They would be twice as hard to find. You know that."
Garen swore, then spun around and ran to the roof's edge. Borim yanked out his sword, and ran after, but the smaller boy leaped over the edge and fell more than one hundred feet into the moat.
Borim ignored him and ran over to Aleya. He cut her free and she hugged him fiercely, sobbing into his shoulder. Borim held her against him, and he began crying as well.
***
"Believe me, Bree, you need to know math," Alyssa said.
Bree cocked an eyebrow. "Why?" They were both on Bree's bed. Bree was sitting cross-legged, and Alyssa was on her back, with her head in the younger girl's lap. It was early morning.
Alyssa was allowed two days off, for her face to fully heal. The healer had left a salve to apply twice a day, which would clear out the discoloration, he said. Bree was gently dabbing the salve onto the bruised area. She slowly rubbed the white substance in circles over the darkened skin.
"You never, ever, let the accountants here at Red Feather handle your money. They could easily make a 'mistake' and skim some off your pay. It happens more often than you think. I'm only allowed to look at my records, so I can't catch the other girls', but it's happening, for sure. I've been the reason for four different dismissals over the past few years. This latest guy, he hasn't tried anything on me, though. I guess the others warned him about me."
"You've been responsible for four people getting...?"
"Yuh-huh," Alyssa said. "The clerks only embezzle from people they think won't know. That's you, me, and the rest of the whores. They occasionally slip some from the servants and kitchen workers, but that's more risky. Besides, what do a few teenage prostitutes know about money?"
"Where did you learn?" Bree asked.
"Galnor - he's a servant - taught me. Pretty smart guy, for a servant. I'm surprised he's not one of the merchants instead of a server. But then, he probably learned everything he knows from the merchants...well, he taught me. I'm going to save up and get my ass outta here, unless I start to feel sad for Belana. She's really got it hard. 'Cause you know I'd help her in a heartbeat, but what good would it do? I don't know anybody on the outside, anybody who could take care of her. She probably doesn't know enough, either. She'd be dead in a gutter by the first week. Either that or back in a whorehouse. The only thing I can think is to buy us both out of here, but I would need to find lives for us." Alyssa sighed and fanned her face when Bree finished applying the salve. She sat up and leaned forward. "Where can I get in this world, if I'm not royalty, huh, Bree?"
Bree gently tugged at Alyssa's short brown hair, and said, "You don't have any hair to braid."
"I'll do yours, then," Alyssa said, turning around. Bree switched positions, so her back was to the older girl. Alyssa took Bree's long curls, and separated them, then began braiding them. "What ever happened with your young guy? What was his name? Grin?"
"Garen. He had to leave town suddenly. That's the day I came on Marian and Kaia..."
"Mm-hm. We all do it. I'm surprised you didn't do it back in Gunthak; how do you kill all that tension?"
"What tension?"
"The 'sexual' tension, Bree. We're all growing girls, and we're all starting to feel certain urges...those of us that aren't warped into shivering bundles of flesh, like Belana. You can't tell me that your tension was relieved by the clients?"
Bree laughed. "No. Not in the slightest...except for Garen. We just...didn't feel like it, after hours of fucking some old merchant. Besides, everyone there was girls, so..."
"I wonder if they fed you some kind of drug..."
"What?"
"Sorry. Strange thoughts, sometimes. Perhaps you girls were normal, and we're all perverts."
"No, that's not it."
"I wonder what I'm gonna do, Bree," Alyssa said. "I mean, no matter how hard I think about it, I can't think of any job that would take me. I have no skills, I don't sew, I don't tailor, I have no personal skills...all I know how to do is fuck." Alyssa tied off Bree's hair with a string, then patted her back.
Bree hopped up and walked into the bathing room. "You know about money, don't you?"
"Only a little. No one would hire me because of my money skills. Besides, I'm a girl, remember? And I'm sixteen. Red Feather will sell me by the time I'm eighteen."
Bree picked up the basket of scent-balls and carried it back into the bunkroom. Scent-balls were small spheres that felt like soap, but they melted in the water, and gave off a pleasant aroma that stuck with the girls after their baths. It was for the customers, Balan had said, so they wouldn't think the girls were a bunch of toothless whores. The scent-balls helped very little, since most of the girls took their baths after they finished with a client, not before.
"Most girls, when they turn eighteen, just move onto a brothel," Alyssa said sadly. "What else could you do? What else do you know? From the age of twelve until eighteen, you fuck, every single night. How many men have you had? Hundreds."
Bree stopped, just as she was about to sit down. Her mouth was hanging open. "No, that's-"
"Think about it, Bree. Aside from Garen, how many men have you gone through that you recognize?"
"A few, I-"
"Fine. We'll assume that every third night, you have the same man that you've had before, so we discount him, right? And, assuming you have two days off, every month, you fuck 330 days a year; I've subtracted a few just to be safe. If every third guy is the same guy, you fuck 220 guys in one year. But wait, that's not counting the nights where you fuck more than one man. If we say that...say...every fifth night, you work two clients, which is, as we both know, an underestimate, then you're fucking an extra sixty-six men. If every third of those is the same man, you are fucking forty-four different men. That's a total of 264 men in one year. Times... how many years have you been a whore, Bree?"
"Uh...since I was twelve."
"And you're...?"
"Fourteen."
"Two years, that's 528 different men. That enough for you? Two more years, and you'll have fucked-"
"Don't," Bree said, putting her hand out. "I don't want to hear it."
"Sorry," Alyssa said. "Those figures are wrong, you know. It has to be more than 528 men, bec-"
"Alyssa," Bree said. "Don't make me sick."
"Why would you get sick? It's a way of living. You're making money off it. If you don't have enough money to get out now, then you will soon. I have more than enough to buy myself out."
Bree sat on the bed opposite Alyssa, and crossed her legs. She pulled her night shirt over her knees, and made a small bowl. She poured the basket of scent-balls into the cloth, then tossed the basket to Alyssa. "I thought you said you didn't have-"
"Well..." Alyssa said. "If I wanted to, I could probably buy four of us outta here, but like I said earlier, what would we do? What could we do? The only reason I haven't paid Belana's way out is like I told you..." Bree gestured, and Alyssa set the basket in the middle of the floor, in the isle between the two beds. Bree began tossing the oil balls at the basket, trying to land them inside. "It's like I told you. What would she do out there? Even if both of us were out there, there is nothing for us out there. No one is kind enough to take on two young whores, unless they just wanted to fuck us. If that's the case, I'd stay here, thank you very much. Might as well get paid for it, ya know."
Bree shrugged. "I don't think about it."
"You'd better, Bree," Alyssa said. "You're life is going down the drain unless you can do something about it. If you just keep thinking someone is going to save you, think again, nobody's gonna-"
The door to the room opened, and Balan walked in with the night schedule. "Bree," Balan said. "You're needed in room 430. Did you finish 223?"
"Yes," Bree said. She cupped her hands into the scent-balls, and dumped them into the basket. When they were all cleaned up, she slipped out of her nightgown, and tossed it onto her bed. Alyssa handed her a robe and sash, and she put them on. "See you later, Alyssa."
Alyssa nodded, and Bree followed Balan out into the hall. He marked her down for 223, and said, "Will you be able to work tomorrow, at noon?"
Bree hesitated. Depending on how long this man took...that would leave her only two hours of sleep, if he took the average. "I...Yes, I can, if you want me to."
"Sorry to do this, Bree, but we're really backed up, and what with Belana's situation...I'm trying to find another girl, but young ones that can tolerate it are rare."
"Huh?" Bree said.
"It's hard for me to find one younger than thirteen that doesn't break apart like Belana."
"What? All the twelve-year olds I've met-"
"That's because we only buy the strong ones. Belana was a mistake, and now I'm trying to sell her."
"To who?"
"Anybody who'll take care of her. I don't know many people."
Bree nodded mutely, and headed up the stairs. She knocked on her client's door, and he called, "Come in."
Bree opened the door and closed it softly.
Inside, the man was sitting on a divan, wearing pants and a robe that was open down the front. He wasn't fat, like most merchants, but he was gangly and thin. She had never seen him before.
"My name is Bree, sir," she bowed. "How may I be of service?"
The man gestured to a bottle of wine next to the divan. "Care for a drink?"
"No thank you, sir. I'm not thirsty."
"It's up to you," he shrugged. He took a glass and poured himself some wine, then gestured between his legs.
Bree knew exactly what he wanted, so she walked in front of him and knelt between his knees. She opened his pants and gently massaged his penis into an erection.
The man sighed and leaned back.
As Bree took his cock into her mouth and began sucking, she tried to get the number 529 out of her head.
***
Garen staggered out of the moat, sputtering water and coughing. He fell to his knees and heaved a lungful of the moat water. After a few more dry heaves, he looked back at the castle. There was one candle, in one window. Otherwise, the keep was dark.
With a groan, the boy staggered to his feet and made his way to the bailey, picking up his pace as he went along. Eventually, he reached the outer wall, and found a rotted ladder leading to the top. As soon as he put his foot on the first rung, the rung fell through with a wet crunch. A few minutes later, Garen found a hole in the bailey, and just crawled through.
He remembered the direction to the town, and just ran through the forest, toward Vroll. The night seemed to whisper his name, as he jogged, and he wondered if he was going insane. He also wondered why he was running.
Garen's life had taken a turn for the strange ever since he'd run away from home. Two weeks after he had left his parents, to live out in the world, he saw a wagon coming down the road. As the wagon neared, Garen managed to catch a ride with the merchant, after persuading him with a silver piece. That night, as the merchant and guard slept, Garen murdered them both. He stabbed the guard in the back of the head, a clean neat death. Garen stabbed the merchant's eyeball; that was a lot messier.
With their deaths came no sense of shame, guilt, or satisfaction...just a sense of curiosity. Then Garen drove the wagon into a city, posing as the dead merchant, then claimed that he had inherited all this money from his father. And everyone believed him.
After his sudden wealth, Garen began building a house, and then murdered two more people, for no apparent reason. No one was curious about their disappearance, but that could be explained away simply by the fact that they were nobodies. Who would miss an old hag? And who would miss a financial manager that supposedly stole money? No one.
On top of that, just when he was about to thoroughly enjoy the company of Bree, he walked out, rode seven days to the south, and almost sacrificed some girl he had never met. Then he jumped off the castle wall to escape! If that wasn't strange, Garen didn't know what was.
A few hours later, Garen came to the outskirts of Vroll. He looked for an inn, which was easily identifiable by the noise and lights of the common room. Garen walked past the front of the building, then around the side, looking for the stables. He found the doors, but they were locked.
Garen looked around, to make sure nobody was watching. All he saw was the forest, the dark buildings, and the clouded night sky. Horses whinnied from within, and the common room noise floated back here, but there was nothing else. Garen was about to kick the door when he had an idea.
He knocked. A few moments later, light flared up inside, then receded to a yellow glow. On the other side of the doors, a lock rattled, and the stableboy pushed the doors open. He squinted at Garen, and realized they were about the same age. "Yes?" he asked, dropping from honorific speech to polite.
"I need to get my horse."
"Which one?" the boy said suspiciously.
"That gray one right there."
The stableboy looked at it and said, "That horse isn't yours, it belongs to-" when the boy turned his head back to Garen, he saw the point of a sword in front of his face. The stableboy backed into the building, and swallowed. "W-What do you want?" he asked nervously, holding his hands out to the side.
"Saddle me up a horse," Garen said. "I need the best one in here, now."
The stableboy nodded and set the lantern down. He hurried over to a stall and led one of the horses out. Though the boy worked quickly, it seemed to take forever. Garen kept watch outside the stables.
"There," said the boy, after he'd finished. "Now please, just take it and go. I'll tell Master Ingham that-"
"Shut up," Garen said absently. He walked around the horse, testing the straps and looking for any faults. Of course he didn't find any, since his knowledge of horses extended no further than riding. "Good work," Garen said. "Now I.."
Garen stopped talking, and looked at the boy. The stableboy must have been frightened by his stare, since he started backing away. Then Garen jumped forward. He brought the sword back and swung it down in a clean arc. An even line of crimson burst out from the gash, running from one shoulder to the opposite hip. Before the boy's scream left his lips, his body shuddered, and gray energy flowed from the corpse into the blade. In a moment, the body was ash, and the pommel glowed with its new prize.
Garen turned around, then leaped onto his new horse. He kicked the horse and rode to the main street, then galloped out of town. When he had cleared Vroll, Garen sheathed the Soulstealer, and ducked down low on the horse's back.
***
For a moment, Bolthorn stared stupidly up at Lia, then croaked, "Where am I?"
"You're in Jonsaria," Lia said.
"Where?"
"You know that wizard? It's his castle."
"Oh." Bolthorn didn't ask how she knew. He struggled to his feet, and followed her over to Aleya and Borim. "What happened?"
"He knocked you and Borim out, then ran away when my F...a man named Alinor appeared."
"Alinor? He was here?"
Lia nodded. "Yes, he disposed of the wizard. Borim and I chased Aleya's captor up to the roof, and when he saw Borim, he jumped off."
"Lia, you shouldn't take risks like that. Borim can handle himself, but you don't even have a weapon other than your dag...where did you get these clothes?"
"Hi Bolthorn," Aleya smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"How am I feeling? How are you feeling? You were kidnapped, remember?"
Aleya nodded. "I'm fine. Ghin was a nice fellow, once you got to know him."
"Why did he take you?"
Aleya shrugged. "I wish I knew. Some kind of ritual sacrifice..." she shrugged.
"Oh so casual," Borim muttered. "What about his castle?" he asked.
"It's empty, and it'll probably stay that way," Bolthorn said.
Lia nodded. "Since Ghin is no longer here, we can stay here a while, until the scavengers come."
"There's some valuable stuff in here," Bolthorn said thoughtfully. "We could load it into a wagon and take it into town to sell..."
Lia looked concerned, but Borim grinned.
Later that evening, after Bolthorn, Borim, and Aleya had scoured the first floor of the castle, Borim followed Aleya up the stairs, to her room. "This was where Ghin made me sleep," Aleya said.
"He made you sleep here?" Borim stared at the furnishings.
"Well, yes. Before that, I was in a one-room cell."
"Did you have a bed?"
"Yes."
"That was more than I had."
"Well, I was a prisoner, you know."
"Yes, and I had to worry about you being a prisoner. Do you think I liked that?"
"I...well, no, but Borim, you don't need to worry about me, I can-" she stopped when she saw his expression.
"I'm sorry, Aleya," Borim said slowly, "but I could have sworn that my sole purpose of existence was to protect you. I am your Guardian. Remember?"
Aleya tried to stifle her laugher. "Calm down, please. I'm all right now."
Borim walked over to Aleya and wrapped his arms around her again. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in deeply.
"Borim, Borim, I'm all right. I'm all-ow! Take your armor off, it pinches."
Borim pulled away. "Sorry." He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his gauntlets. As he untied his right pauldron, Aleya crawled on the bed behind him and began working on his left pauldron. "I just...It was hard, that's all. You're my life, Aleya. If anything happened to you..." he sighed.
"Hopefully you would get on with your life."
"Somehow I doubt it."
"Borim..." she turned his head to look at her. "If something happens to me-"
"Then we're in big trouble, according to the Oracle."
Aleya sighed.
Borim pulled off his right pauldron, and Aleya pulled off the other one. She began untying his breast plate as he set his pauldrons on the ground. The boy sighed and leaned on his knees.
"Sit up." He did, and she said, "What made you want to be my Guardian?"
"Haven't you asked me this before?"
"Probably."
"When I was adopted by the temple, I saw you, and asked the Oracle who you were. He told me, then told everyone at the temple I was supposed to be your Guardian. End of story."
Aleya finished untying his breastplate, and she lifted it away from his chest. Borim took it and set it next to his arm guards. He sat up and began undoing his greaves.
Aleya started massaging his shoulders. "You shouldn't wear so much armor all the time. When was the last time it did any good for you?"
Borim shrugged. "It gives me those muscles you were complimenting me on."
Aleya punched his shoulder.
"Ooh, that felt good."
"My punch?"
"Yes." Borim finished untying his greaves and set them with his other armor.
Aleya continued massaging him. "I'm glad you came, Borim."
"Could I do otherwise?"
"Not knowing you."
For several minutes, Aleya just massaged his back and shoulders, until Borim finally said, "Thank you, Aleya. I think I'd better go to sleep now. After more than a week of sleepless nights, I'm pretty tired."
Aleya patted his back, and he stood up, and kicked aside his armor. As Borim was pulling his bedroll from his backpack, Aleya said, "Borim, come over here. This bed is huge. I don't want you sleeping on the floor."
Borim hesitated. "I don't want to-"
"Borim," Aleya said dangerously.
He rolled his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his shoes off, then his shirt. When he crawled under the covers next to her, Aleya put her arm across his chest and mumbled, "Good night."
Borim kissed her forehead, and for the first time in eight days, he dreamed.
***
"According to ancient texts," the Lienite said, "Draconia is located in the northwest corner of Kachara. It-"
"Where?"
"Kachara. The southern continent. Draconia is located in the northwest corner of Kachara." The Lienite dug through a pile of old books until he found what he was looking for. He opened the book and pointed to a stained map. "That is Draconia. Its primary terrain consists of mountains, which makes travel difficult."
"What are those?" Doronar pointed to a series of blotches.
"The Canyons of Seti. It is a two hundred mile wide canyon, with plateaus and mesas spread out intermittently, within the canyon. Ancient T'loren religion claims that the god of fire-"
"Yes yes," Doronar said. "Is there any way for me to get to Draconia? I'm looking for someone named Rinas. He said he's a Dragon Knight from-"
"A Dragon Knight?" the Lienite raised his eyebrows. "Truly?"
Doronar nodded. "Yes, I-"
"May I meet him?"
"No. I communicated with him mentally. All I know is his name, rank, and home town. I want to go visit him."
"Truly?" the Lienite said, getting a hungry look in his eyes.
"Yes," Doronar said slowly. "Why?"
"The prospect of discovering the ancient Draconia would greatly please Lien. The amount of knowledge we could gain from the Draconians would be phenomenal! Think of all the ancient texts and history books we would have-"
"Excuse me," Doronar held up a hand, trying to fend off a lecture. "Are you saying that you'll tell me how to get there?"
The Lienite paused for a moment. He blinked at Doronar, looked at the map, then back at Doronar. "I-I'll do better than that, I'll-"
"Go with me?" Doronar sighed.
"No, no. I'm far too old to gallavant around the world on such an excursion, but I will send a colleague of mine with you. He has wanted to travel for a while now, and he is young enough to-"
"Thank you," Doronar said. "But I'll have to decline the offer. I just need you to tell me how to get there."
The Lienite's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you. The rest cannot be explained in words."
"Well can you give me this map, or write it down?"
The Lienite shook his head. "I have no assurance that you would return the book to the king's library."
"But of course I'll-" Doronar stopped, then scowled. He folded his arms and said, "You want me to take your colleague with me, don't you?"
"He would be able to-"
"Fine, fine," Doronar scowled. "But I can't guarantee his safety."
"Boldar can take care of himself," the Lienite grinned, rubbing his hands together fiercely. "When do you plan to depart?"
"As soon as possible."
"Excellent. We will contact you as soon as travel plans have been composed."
"How do you know where to find me?"
The Lienite raised an eyebrow, and Doronar put his hands out. "Sorry, sorry. I know, I know. Thank you for your assistance. I will see you soon."
The Lienite bowed, but Doronar was on his way out the door already. He walked down the hall, and headed toward Lily's office.
Doronar hated Lienites...just about everyone did. The arrogant bastards always looked down their nose at everyone, including royalty. Just because they were scholars, they assumed they were the highest form of society. But Doronar had to admit, they knew a lot. That was why he gave in so easily; finding Draconia on his own would be an extremely difficult task.
Lien was the God of Knowledge, whose sole purpose for existence was the gathering of knowledge. The Lienites took it upon themselves to gather this knowledge, and store it in vast archives at their temples. Many tomes at the archives were beyond value, and could be sold for thousands of gold, but the Lienites refused, saying that the value of knowledge was far beyond that of any metal.
Doronar could not understand their constant craving for knowledge, most of the time. Now, though, it was a different story. Discovering the lost country of Draconia, which he now believed to exist, would be a monumental piece of history for the Dragon. It might even live up to the discovery of Arraka's Flame.
Arraka's Flame was a huge temple in the Highlands, where thousands of the Dragon resided and worshipped Arraka, day and night. The true essence of the Dragon God supposedly lived there. Specifically, at the top of the pyramid-shaped temple, where a gargantuan pillar of fire burned, eternally (hence the term Arraka's Flame). All Dragon made a voyage to Arraka's Flame, at least once in their lifetime. Those that traveled to Arraka's Flame came back as different men.
Doronar had still not gone; he was going to wait until he became a priest, or full-fledged Dragon Warrior.
"Doronar!" Lily said, running to catch up with him. "Where are you going?"
"I was going to see you."
"Someone had a broken arm. I just finished. Messy break, too. Got hit in sword practice, and fractured it, then he fell on it, and shattered both bones. So what did the librarian say?"
"I'm traveling to the southern continent."
"What? Why?"
"My vision. I'm going to look for Rinas. Do you want to come?"
Lily stopped in her tracks, and Doronar had to stop as well. She started walking again, then said, "I...why?"
"I don't know. It's just a feeling. Arraka has a purpose for you, I know it."
Lily swallowed, then said, "I'm, uh, sorry, Doronar, but my job is here at the palace, and I can't abandon it on some whim. Pardon the expression. It's just that frolicking off to some country that may or may not exist in some place I've never been is a little...too adventurous for me. I'm sorry."
Doronar nodded. "If it is Arraka's will, he will show you." Doronar stuck out his hand. "I'm sorry to have troubled you, and thanks..." he held up his arm "for the hand."
Lily shook his good hand, then said, "Visit me when you return."
"I will." Doronar turned on his heel and walked out into the courtyard.
***
A little over a week had passed since their intimate act, but Ranon had grown no less fearful. His daytime activities diverted him from his paranoia.
Ranon's sword sliced through the assassin, spraying blood everywhere. The man screamed and fell, only to reveal another one jumping through the door. Ranon stabbed that one, but more kept coming.
"Get to the window!" Ranon cried.
Alleria scrambled over to the window, and looked out. "Ranon, we can't jump out there! It's-"
"Too late!" Ranon cried, opening the throat of another dark-clothed assassin. He threw one of the chairs at the assassin, to stall them. Then the Princess's Champion ran toward Alleria. He grabbed her waist, and leaped with her out the window.
Alleria's scream pierced his eardrums, but Ranon ignored it. Fortunately, he timed the drop perfectly. They landed in a hay wagon, much to the wagoneer's surprise. Alleria looked around in a panic, but Ranon pushed her out, and she landed on her rear end in the middle of the courtyard. "Ranon! How dare you do that to a-"
"There are more," Ranon said, as black-cloaked men began seeping from the startled spectators. "When you get a chance-"
"Ranon!" Alleria snapped.
Ranon looked away from the window, startled. He was in the princess's study. She must have just finished her studies for the day. A glance at the tutor proved him right.
"Sorry," Ranon apologized. He followed the impatient girl out the door, and said, "What did you learn today?"
"Nothing," she said irritably. "That man is an old fart, who doesn't know the difference between-" Alleria stopped suddenly, and put her hand on the wall.
"What is it?" Ranon asked.
"Nothing, I-I just don't feel so good." She put her other hand to her stomach and grimaced. "Maybe I should go to my room for the rest of the day..." Alleria winced again, tensing her fingers.
"What's wrong?"
"My...my stomach hurts. I think I'm-oh gods." The princess almost collapsed.
"Alleria, I'm taking you to the healer," Ranon said. He put one arm around her back, and one behind her knees, then picked her up. The boy carried her down the hallway, listening to her moans of pain.
Lily looked up when Ranon carried Alleria into her office, then said, "What's the matter?"
"Alleria's sick," Ranon said.
"Put her on the bed," Lily said, grabbing some instruments from her cabinet. "What does it feel like?" she asked.
Ranon gently put the princess on a patient bed, and Alleria said, "Like I swallowed a shovel."
"Where? In your stomach or your throat?" Lily asked, putting her hand on the girl's forehead.
"My stomach," Alleria said.
Lily put her hands on the girl's temples, then gently ran her fingers to Alleria's throat, then she put her fingertips on Alleria's stomach. The healer closed her eyes and concentrated, mentally searching for the illness. After a few moments, a soft white light emanated from the healer's hands, and energy began to flow down her fingers, into Alleria's body.
After the spell had been completed, Lily was about to remove her hands, then she furrowed her brow. A series of expressions passed across her face, until it became astonishment. Lily opened her eyes, and looked down at Alleria. For a moment, Lily just stared, then looked back at Ranon.
"What?" Ranon said.
***
At an obscure inn, near a village just west of the stone wastes, Jonas said quietly, "Why Bolthorn?"
Alinor scanned the common room again, but no one was even watching them. "What?"
"Why Bolthorn? What purpose does he serve?"
"I'm not sure. Lia just found him and wanted him along. If he doesn't prove himself sometime soon, we'll have to get rid of him."
"What for?"
"Because I trust everyone I work with, but I don't trust him."
"Then why did you tell him to stay with Lia?"
"I was afraid she would follow him. I still am. Lia can be obstinate at times."
"Believe me," Jonas snorted, "I know." He finished off his ale and said, "Why would she follow him? He has nothing important."
Alinor sighed. "She's mysterious. I wonder why she even tangled up with him in the first place. You can find a big, burly warrior at any mercenaries guild."
"He found her..."
"I know, but she's the one who chose to follow him. If he had his own way, he would have left within a week, but Lia kept on his tail. That's why I was afraid to get rid of him. Unfortunately, all four of them are friends, now, and I can't think of any way to get rid of him except to kill him..."
"Teleport him somewhere else."
"Lia could find him."
"Teleport him to another dimension."
"That would draw too much attention."
"Put him to sleep."
"Lia would find him."
Jonas sighed. "Maybe talk to him, first. Explain things."
"When has talking ever worked?"
"Fine," Jonas said. "I just don't like the thought of killing somebody again."
"You don't have to do it, I will."
"Good."
***
Bolthorn splashed his face with the icy water, then watched it drip down from his nose into the sparkling stream. For a few minutes, the warrior just stared at the gurgling waters, lost in thought. A cool breeze rustled the autumn leaves, reminding Bolthorn that winter was not far away. He wiped a hand over his face, and stood up, gazing at the stream once more.
Then Bolthorn returned to the camp, avoiding twigs and branches since he was in his bare feet. Just as he was about to enter the campfire's glow, he saw a shape rise up in front of him. For a moment, Bolthorn didn't know what it was, but then he realized it was a human, facing the fire.
"Uh, excuse me?" Bolthorn said. Later, he thought of dozens of better statements than that one, but for now, it was the only one he could say. If the person hadn't jumped, Bolthorn would have tapped him on the shoulder.
The scrape of metal in leather told Bolthorn enough. Before the man's sword was even fully out of its sheath, Bolthorn stepped forward and brought his knee into the man's groin...he tried to anyway. He missed the groin, but hit the stomach.
With a grunt of pain, the man staggered, and almost fell on his back, but Bolthorn punched him first. His fist sent the man flying into the fire. The man's hollering woke the others, especially Borim.
The boy woke to find a dark shape careening toward him. Borim was in his bedroll, so he pulled his feet back, then launched them at the strange man. Both feet struck solidly, and the intruder flopped onto his back, in the middle of the flames.
He squawked and floundered, trying to escape the surprise ambush that his victims had unwittingly laid for him. Bolthorn stepped in, picked the man up, and slammed him into a tree. "Who are you?"
The man whined something unintelligible.
Lia walked over to them and sleepily took the man's sword.
"I said, who are you?" Bolthorn demanded.
"M-M-My name is G-G-Garnis," the man stammered.
"Let him go," Aleya yawned. "He's just a petty thief. I'm tired."
"He's no petty thief," Lia pointed out. "Look at his clothes. They look pretty nice to me."
"I-I stole them," Garnis whimpered. "P-P-Please, just let me go."
Bolthorn let go of the man's tunic disgustedly, but made it clear he didn't want the man leaving. "What were you really doing here?"
"I-I just wanted to-"
"Lying," Lia said.
"No, really, you just looked like a-"
"Lying."
"No! I'm not! I swear!"
"He's lying," Lia said, handing Bolthorn the sword. "Kill him."
"Okay!" squealed Garnis. "I was hired to kill you."
"By who?"
"M-Man named Bard. H-He said he would give me a hundred gold pieces per person if I-"
"Lying," Lia said.
"Okay!" Garnis cried, exasperated. "He pre-paid me, and told me that if I didn't do it, he would kill me and everyone I kn-"
"No," Borim scowled. "Assassins aren't payed before they murder."
"It's the truth!"
Lia nodded to Borim, who raised an eyebrow.
"Where's the money now?" Bolthorn asked.
"It's a l-letter of credit," Garnis said. "It won't do you no good, even if-"
Lia reached to the man's belt and pulled a small tube out. She popped the end of the tube and slid out a piece of paper. On the paper was a letter of credit, written from the Bank of Althoria, for 400 gold crowns. "This is it."
"Hey, how did you...give me that!" Garnis reached for it, but Bolthorn's hand snatched out, grabbed a finger, and twisted. It broke. The man doubled over, and cradled his finger.
"How did this man get to be an assassin?" Borim asked.
"Accident," Aleya said groggily. "Now can we get some sleep?"
"Go back to bed, if you're that tired," Borim told her.
Aleya flopped back on her cloak, serving as a pillow, and curled up into a ball.
"What do we do with him?" Lia asked.
Bolthorn scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Just kill him," Borim said. "Nobody'll find his body for months, and-"
"No!" howled the man, clutching Bolthorn's legs. "Please, don't kill me! If you do that, I'll die!"
"No shit," Borim said.
"We won't kill you, if you shut up," Bolthorn growled. "Stand up."
Garnis scrambled to his feet, but before he could run away, Lia grabbed his shoulder and said, "Remember. You owe us."
He looked perplexed, but she let go, and the man ran away.
"What are you going to do with that letter?" Bolthorn asked. "It's no good without the matching password."
"What?"
"When the bank gives out letters of credit, they give each letter a password, and keep that password on file with the word at the bottom down there. See?"
Lia looked at the bottom of the paper, and printed in small letters was the word "Jester." She said, "We should have asked him what the password was."
Bolthorn shook his head. "No. He would have lied."
Lia grinned wickedly. "I can be quite persuasive." She rolled up the parchment and put it back in the tube, which she stuffed into her backpack. "If we run across him again, I'll ask him what the password is."
"That won't work either," Bolthorn said. "The passwords change every season."
"So you can't have a letter of credit for longer than three months?"
Bolthorn shook his head.
"I think I'll sleep now."
Bolthorn nodded and crawled into his bedroll.
***
Bree and Garen were laying on a blanket in front of the fireplace, letting the flames keep them warm.
"What did you do?"
"Hm?" Garen asked absently, trailing his finger down her naked side.
"When you left. You never told me what you did, and it's been two weeks."
"Oh. Sorry. I, uh...was looking for a new financial assistant. Someone told me where to find him, but he, uh, wasn't there, so I went looking for him."
"Did you ever find him?"
"No."
"Oh...I know somebody here who's supposed to know a lot about money. He's a server named Galnor. One of the other girls told me about him."
"I see..." Garen said. "I'll talk with him later about it."
Bree giggled when his finger skimmed across her bare stomach. "Stop it. I'm ticklish."
"What? Really? Are you sure?"
"What do you mean, am I sure? I'm the one who-ah! Stop it!" Bree squealed when Garen lifted her up so her back was on his chest. He fell onto his back, and began tickling Bree's stomach.
She tried to get a word out, but her shrieks of laughter had her in convulsions. Garen couldn't hold on when she was thrashing and laughing so hard; the girl managed to squirm out of his grasp and scramble away from him. She crouched in front of the fireplace, waiting for him to make his next move.
Garen flipped into a squatting position, and the two eyed each other like cats about to brawl. Then, Garen launched himself at Bree, and she dodged, laughing. He chased her around the rooms, but she was far too quick, and Garen couldn't keep up. After a few minutes, he stopped, panting, then put one knee on the ground. "I-I'm too tired," he said. "I have been running for two weeks straight..."
"Come on," Bree said. "You're not tired already, are you?"
Garen nodded breathlessly. "I...sorry..."
"You're lying."
Garen shook his head, still breathing raggedly.
Bree frowned and walked over to him. "Garen, you'd better-"
"Oop," Garen said, lunging forward. He grabbed Bree's waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.
"Garen!" she exclaimed, "You lied to me! You said you-"
"Aw, I recover fast," Garen grinned. He carried her over to the bed, and dropped her on her back. Bree bounced once, and Garen put his hands on her knees.
"Cheater," Bree pouted.
"So punish me."
"I'm not in a position to do that right now."
"Good point," Garen noted. He bent down and rubbed his nose around in her pubic hair lightly.
"What are you doing?"
Garen flicked his tongue against Bree's clit, and she gave a small gasp. He grinned up at her, then went down fully and began licking her nether lips and clit. Bree sighed and enjoyed the sensations, since Garen was the only one who had ever given her a blowjob. It only took a few minutes for Bree to orgasm. Her scream of pleasure echoed through the room, and she clenched her legs around Garen's head, nearly suffocating him.
When her spasms had stopped, Garen disentangled himself and wiped his mouth on his forearm. "You ready?" he asked.
Bree blinked, confused for a moment, then looked at Garen's erect cock. "Give it to me," she said, holding her arms wide.
***
Lily closed the door and locked it. She looked at the floor for a few moments, then looked back at Alleria. The stare alone was enough to send shivers down the girl's spine.
"What is it?" Alleria said, her tongue suddenly thick. She swallowed and said, "What's wrong? Am I sick? Do-"
"Your Highness," Lily said. "You're pregnant."
***
"Oh, Gods..." Bree moaned as the last tremor passed through her body. She clenched Garen tightly, her hands and ankles locked around his back.
Garen breathed deeply of her hair, and said, "You smell like flowers."
"Huh?" Bree blinked.
"You smell like flowers," Garen repeated breathlessly.
"It's-It's the hair soap they give us."
Garen nodded. Bree released her hands and ankles, and Garen pulled out. He held out his hand, and Bree took it. They went into the bathing room, and Garen tested the water. It wasn't as hot as usual, since the water had been sitting for a half hour, but it was warm enough.
Right after Garen, Bree slipped into the water, and instinctively began massaging him. Her fingers easily penetrated the soreness in his shoulders. Tension and thought slipped away, and Garen soon found himself drifting asleep. When Bree's hands were no longer kneading his muscles, Garen began to leaned back against her body, but she was no longer there. When his back touched the side of the tub, Garen started to doze, but Bree's touch woke him.
Beneath the water, one of the girl's fingers stroked Garen's penis, and his eyes fluttered open. She grinned and began masturbating his member, quickly bringing it to an erection. Garen's hands traveled to her back, and he moaned as she sank down onto his shaft.
Bree pushed her mouth against his, and their tongues entered each other's mouths. Her hands stayed on either side of his head, keeping their mouths locked as the rest of her body bobbed up and down.
Garen mumbled something into her mouth, and found her breasts with his hands. His thumbs brushed her hardened nipples.
"Gods, Garen," Bree breathed, lightly biting his tongue. "You...wh-" she cut off with a gasp as his mouth tore from hers, and he covered her left breast with his hot breath and tongue. She continued to grind her pelvis into his, but thrust her chest out into his mouth, and held onto his head. Her orgasm came unexpectedly, and she screamed, digging into Garen's head. The girl's legs jerked, and her feet found the side of the tub. Bree pushed away, just to get enough room to scissor Garen's waist with her legs. They wrapped around his hips tightly, and Garen grunted.
The pair tipped forward from Bree's push, and almost fell beneath the water. Garen stuck his foot out, and he kept them from falling under. With a grunt, he pushed her against the side of the tub, and began thrusting into her from there. The position was too awkward, though, so he lifted her up, trying to angle himself better, but Bree's buttocks cleared the edge of the tub, and her butt hit the floor.
"Shit," Garen swore. His left leg splashed beneath the water for a few moments, and then he found purchase on one of the stone benches. His next thrust carried him out of the water, and slid Bree back along the smooth stone floor. Water puddled around them as Garen put his hands on either side of her and began pumping in earnestly.
Bree's orgasm was just fading when she felt Garen's seed pouring into her. A shuddering breath hissed out her teeth, and she moaned with each spurt of his hot semen. The orgasm tore through Garen's body like a shockwave, and for a few minutes, he just lay there, inside of her.
Their breathing regulated after some time, and Bree began trailing circles on Garen's back. "You are about the only person I've come for," she said softly.
Garen lay silent, then pushed up with his hands; he grabbed her waist and lifted. Bree held to him tightly, and he stood up, and carried her, still inside him, to one of the stuffed chairs. Garen sat down, with Bree on top, and said, "How...how do they keep you from getting pregnant?"
"Hm?"
"How do they keep you girls from getting pregnant?"
"A spell that a healer casts on us before we begin. I'm not sure how long it lasts, but I guess forever."
Garen nodded. "That's good. Otherwise, you would be pregnant now."
"I would have been pregnant years ago."
***
Doronar and Boldar had traveled for more than a week, and finally arrived at the border between Harnash and Althoria. The Althorian border guards had barely looked up from their game of Cross, but it remained to be seen how the Harnash guards would treat them.
"Harnash is a closed country now," Boldar said, gesturing to the borderpost. The sentries were giving them baleful looks even before they arrived. "But they won't be for long."
"What are you talking about?" Doronar said, half hating himself for asking. Every Lienite, including Boldar, gave lengthy discourses on any subject matter. Doronar believed they just liked to listen to themselves.
"During a war, supply and demand goes up. If Allanon was any less self-sufficient than they are...were, Althoria and Harnash would be turning huge profits from the demand from Oendra, and-"
"What's Oendra?"
"The Mistlands. It's etymology stems from an old Elven dialect dating back to the Torian Era. In ancient Torian, Oendra means 'Land of Mist'. As you can see, not much has changed since that time-"
"Sh," Doronar said as they approached the border guards, who stood in the middle of the road, halberds out.
"What is your business in Harnash?" one of them demanded.
"We're traveling to-"
"-the southern continent," Doronar cut in. "That's all."
The guards hesitated, looking for something they could fault Doronar on. But this was exactly the kind of visit they desired: enter, then leave as soon as possible.
The first guard nodded and they stepped aside.
Doronar and Boldar walked through. "Anyway," Boldar said, after they had walked a ways, "Oendra was similar to the way it is now, but there was a-"
"Getting back to the war," Doronar prompted.
"Oh yes. During a war, supply and demand rises. Harnash will, sometime in the next few days, I predict, send an emissary up to Althorien to smooth things over. Harnash knows that during the upcoming invasion-"
"You're assuming there is one."
"There will be," Boldar stated. "The Minion have a purpose, and it does not involve the destruction of the Karoks. Actually, it does, but that is not the goal. They have another goal in mind. I don't know what it is, but the Minion obviously have some purpose other than the genocide of the Karoks, which they will undoubtedly achieve."
"How do you know?"
"All communication with Oendra has ceased. All trading has fallen off, and Oendra has become isolated. The only other time this has happened was during the War of Fire. The Karoks were beaten brutally, and only with the aid of Vallacar were they able to survive. But the Karoks have never had to fall back to Allanon; the Minion are the same strength, maybe less, than before, but the Karoks are far fewer. Barai'lach territory shrunk considerably over the past several millenia. With the coming of the Grey Shield-"
"Boldar, I don't want to hear a history lesson. Just tell me the answer."
"Oh yes. What was I talking about?"
"Why Harnash won't be a closed country."
"Oh yes. I apologize. What I was saying was: the Karoks will be wiped out, and they will move for Althoria."
"Why do you assume they will be killed?"
"That's what I was trying to tell you."
"Don't give me a history lesson, just tell me the main points. Why will the Minion conquer Allanon?"
"Several factors contribute to this: the first is like I said, the Minion is strong. The second reason is the Karoks are weaker than before. They will not turn to us for aid, and the Minion know that. Also, the Minion are coordinated under a single leader, someone who knows what he's doing."
"Who?"
"I suspect it to be Shargoth, a Darkness clan leader, but there are others who consider Falgor Bloodfist, or R'chal B'ksha...but according to our sources, R'chal B'ksha is deceased. Of course, the validity of our sources on that matter is questionable, due to the fact that-"
"Boldar!"
"Oh yes. I apologize. In addition to being formed under a single leader, the Minion have structure within their ranks. This probably quadruples the casualty rate among the Karoks. Finally, and most importantly, the Minion have superior numbers to the Karoks. Far superior. Now, calculating the losses, I would assume that the Minion now have an army in excess of 200,000."
"What!"
Boldar stopped when he noticed Doronar was not moving. After a moment, the Dragon resumed walking, and Boldar said, "Shocking, isn't it?"
Doronar couldn't speak; he just shook his head.
Boldar looked ahead and continued. "With an army of that size, the Karoks don't stand a chance. As we speak, I would suppose Allanon is under siege. A part of the army will rest outside Allanon, and allow the Karoks to slowly die within the city. The rest of the army will travel the countryside and do one of two things: slash and burn all the farmland, which is unlikely, since the leader is, so far, a competant general, or they will gather the crops from towns across Oendra, and form supply lines back to the siege at Allanon."
Doronar walked in silence, his eyes wide.
"At some point during the winter, the Karoks will crack, and they will attack the siege party, and be crushed. Their mentality prevents them from requesting outside assistance; therefore, the Karoks will retaliate, and they will die. With the destruction of Allanon comes the destruction of the Karoks. Unless there are isolated tribes that live in northern Oendra, the Karoks will cease to exist on Tirn Aill.
"During spring, the Minion will attack Althoria. Harnash knows this; the Minion have no reason to attack Harnash. Harnash is strictly an economic country, and they gain their profits from the rest of the world. Now, I suspect that Harnash has begun buying all the weapons it can afford from Kachara, the southern continent, and sell them to Althoria at outrageous prices. Althoria will be forced to accept the terms, since it has not begun production of military equipment yet. If King Borric were to begin production of the military equipment now, then it would be feasable for Althoria to fortify an army before spring. But I doubt it. King Borric does not consider the threat real; as well he shouldn't. In all of history, no army, Minion or otherwise, has ever defeated the Karoks."
***
"In all of history," the scribe read aloud, "no army, Minion or other, has ever defeated the Karoks. By the time you read this letter, I may be dead. I have duties to attend to, so I will make it short. The Minion have driven us back, slaughtering us with their superior numbers. I will not attempt to describe to you the massacre that has taken place here. I have seen more deaths than I can count, and I will see just as many, in the next few days. King Borric, I implore you to begin the construction of your army. I know not how well you will fare against the Minion, but I am not optimistic. If the Grey Shield is broken, what will protect you from the Scourge of Tir? Your only hope, now, is to defend yourself, King. Armageddon is near, and you will fight. You will suffer. Put aside your pride, and seek assistance from anyone you can. Harnash will become a valuable asset, so make allies. Your army can never be large enough. The Minion only cares about one thing: destruction. If I didn't know better, I would say that Falgor Bloodfist is the hand of Tir. Borric, you will suffer, you will see death, and you will feel fear, but no matter the price, you must survive.
"Sincerely and mournfully, Jorak, Dragonslayer, King of Oendra." The scribe finished reading with a tremor in his voice.
King Borric's eyes closed, and he let out a sigh. "Quickly, fetch Jerik, my advisors, my sons, Tolir, Borena, Olis, and Volashi. We will be meeting in the western conference room."
Ten minutes later, Borric's staff was gathered in the conference room overlooking the dark courtyard. Stars sprinkled the black sky, and reflected on the Althorian River as it flowed through the side of the courtyard, and beneath the wall, then out into the city, into one of the dozens of canals that criss-crossed Althorien. Stormclouds advanced from the west, threatening to drench the city, or blanket it with snow. Cold winds carried promise of a bitter winter, a winter spent in preparation for a bloody war.
Inside the conference room, the mood was apprehensive, for Borric had not yet revealed the purpose of this meeting. A fire blazed in the hearth that covered half of one wall, and two braziers glowed in the opposite corners of the room. A metal torch sat in the center of the round conference table, shedding light onto nervous faces.
Borric turned from the fireplace to face his council. "We all know of the Minion's invasion of the Mistlands. We all know that the Karoks have been losing ground, and that there was a chance they could be defeated. That is no longer a chance, it is a truth."
A collective groan passed among the group.
Borric carried the letter over to the table and handed it to Jerik, who began reading. "This is a letter from Jorak," the king said, "stating the condition of the war. This was sent just over a week ago, by the last human messenger in Allanon. As soon as I find the messenger, I will speak with him. For now, this is enough information."
Jerik passed the letter to Daren and Corin, who both began reading.
"What does it say?" Volashi asked.
"That Jorak is dead. The Minion have defeated the Karoks."
"We're doomed!" Olis cried, burying his face in his hands.
"Shut up!" Borena snapped. "The Minion's army is probably so small now that we can defeat it easily," she said.
Jerik snorted.
"Jorak says that we must raise an army now, during the winter."
"What are the estimates on the Minion? How big are they?" Borena asked.
"My intelligence informs me that they number over 100,000," Jerik said. "But that is probably far less than their total compliment. The Legion, as a whole, is no larger than 40,000. We need to draft, immediately. They will attack in the winter."
"What?" Volashi said. "I thought that winter was the worst time to wage war."
"Of course it is," Jerik replied, "but Falgor doesn't care. He will stop at nothing to crush Althoria. Once we are gone, it's the end of everything. Then he would control the world, meeting only minimal resistance."
"I doubt it," Daren murmured.
"What was that?" Borric asked sharply.
"Nothing, Father."
Jerik shot the boy a sidelong glance, and said, "They can't afford to stop moving. Although it's possible for the army to survive in the winter without attacking Allanon, by gathering crops from the Karoks' stores, I would suspect the half-trolls have burnt all their stores. This would leave the Minion with no option but to attack. The upkeep of an army that large is unbelievable. Unless Falgor has a huge, constant supply route coming straight out of the Darklands, I don't know where he would get the food for that army. Upkeep for the equipment would be slightly easier; they could just refine the dead-"
"How would attacking Allanon now make a difference?" Olis asked.
"What?"
"You were going to say something about the Minion gathering food from Karoks, aside from stealing grain stores. How?"
"Oh. If they attack Allanon, there will be women, children, and elderly still alive."
"So?" Olis retorted. "They'll just slaughter them and-"
"Eat them," Corin said flatly, handing the letter to Borena.
Olis turned a horrified gaze onto the prince. "You mean...?"
"They're cannibals," Daren replied. "They'll eat each other as well as us. If they attack during the winter, our dead would be used to feed them, if they couldn't find any grain."
Olis looked sick. After a few moments he said, "How big of an army are you looking for?" he asked Jerik.
The general sat forward and said, "I need 150,000 men, by spring. 200,000 by summer."
"No chance," Olis said flatly. "You know that."
"I'll try."
Olis shrugged, then began calculating, looking at the air in front of him at invisible numbers. His fingers flicked over the problems, and he said, "How much equipment do you have?"
"With all present stores, I can outfit 50,000."
"How much grain do we have?"
Tolir, chancellor of production, who had not spoken the entire time said, "Enough to get through the winter, but there is no way we can support an army of 50,000, let alone 150,000. Besides, transporting grain, or anything for that matter, is risky during the winter. It's dangerous."
"That's the least of our worries," Borena said. "The Minion will destroy Allanon-"
"If it's not destroyed already," Borric interjected.
"Yes. And they will attack us! We can't worry about grain at a time like-"
"You have to fucking feed an army, Borena," Jerik snapped. "Our men can't survive on empty stomachs."
The woman fell silent.
"How much will it cost?" Jerik asked.
Olis sat back. "We have...maybe five million in the treasury."
"How much will it cost?" the general repeated.
"Greater than ten million."
"Gods," the king breathed.
"Fuck!" Jerik smacked the table with his fist. "How in Gehenna do we pull something like this off?"
"We need allies," Borric said. "We get Arangrad, Midgard, and Harnash."
"He's right," Olis said. "Harnash will become invaluable during the invasion. Their connections with the southern continent could prove useful if we could enlist some help from..."
"Who?" Corin asked.
"We don't know anybody in the southern continent," Daren said. "We couldn't ask them for aid in a war they know nothing about."
"Hiring mercenary groups would cost another two million, or more," Olis said. "The barbarians are good warriors."
"They're savages," Jerik repeated.
"They're good, though," Borric said.
"Where can we find the money for this war?"
"We'd be paying back Harnash for decades," Tolir moaned.
"In the morning, we'll tell the people about the invasion," Borric said, "and hit them with the war tax," he looked at Borena. "You and Olis figure out the war tax and how much gold we can be pulling in by the end of the month. Jerik, Olis, and Tolir, I want you to give me an exact estimate on the total cost of the army. Volashi, we need to talk to Harnash. Corin and Daren, you two will be the Legion's recruiters.
"But that's for tomorrow. Now, we need to plan this war."
***
"Gods, what are we going to do Ranon?" Alleria cried.
Ranon tried to comfort her, but it was difficult. They had both made a mistake, and both deserved punishment. Unless they could escape the punishment, and that was what Ranon intended to do. "Is there any way that the healer can...reverse the pregnancy?"
Alleria shook her head. "Healers of Vash take an oath; they swear not to harm another life, ever. And Lily considers this baby to be a life."
"Shit," hissed Ranon. He said, "Then we run."
"What?"
"We leave. If we stay at the castle, your father will most certainly imprison or kill me, and you...I would guess that to avoid public humiliation at such an adulterous act, your father would kill me, and send you off to a convent. The baby would be born, then raised in the convent; you would return here, but you would no longer be an heir to the throne."
"Why? He can't-"
"Yes he can. As long as Borric's king, he can do whatever he wishes with you. Your father is not the kind of man to take something like this lightly. He would hate you for it. Instead of having you become the normal public figure, he would-"
"Enough!" Alleria choked, putting her hand over her mouth. "That's enough."
Ranon stood up and began pacing. In situations like these, Ranon thought the most calmly. When the pressure was high, he worked well. "We must leave tonight. By morning we'll be gone from the castle."
"Where?"
"Probably still within the city. I plan to move into the Highlands. No one would recognize you there, and travel is light. We'll find a farming village, wait until the baby is born, leave him with a family, and return to the castle. Is that all right with you?"
Alleria nodded mutely, and wiped her eyes again.
"Good. Start packing. We'll leave in a few minutes."
Ranon walked into his room and undid his sword belt. He threw the belt on the bed and then began donning his armor. After he had his half-plate on, he took his leather armor and stuffed it into a backpack. The chain mail would be too bulky. Ranon's finest and worst tunics were put with the armor, and he wore the only boots he would be taking.
After all his clothes had been packed, he took the chain from around his neck, the one that bore a metal caduceus. Both of his signet rings, the one denoting his rank as Royal Protector and the one denoting his rank within the house of Lokinu, were slipped onto the chain, and he fastened it around his neck again. Ranon pushed the chain beneath his breastplate, and made sure there were no obvious signs of his rank. Then he tied his sword belt about his waist, and wrapped a traveling cloak about his shoulders.
Ranon grabbed some necessities, a lantern, oil, lye soap, and a waterskin, then put them in his backpack. After another check of the room, Ranon carried the pack out into Alleria's room. "Are you ready?" he asked.
Alleria was trying to shove one of her dresses into an overstuffed travel bag.
"You're not taking that," Ranon growled. He walked over to her and pushed her aside.
"Hey! Ranon-"
Someone knocked on the door.
Both of them froze, and Ranon glanced at Alleria. "W-Who is it?" she called.
"It's me," the opened, and Daren walked through. "I came to tell you-" the boy froze, and gaped at the scene in front of him.
Ranon swore and brushed past the prince, then slammed the door. "Do you always come in without asking?" Ranon snapped.
"Yes, I-we-I mean, what's going on here?"
"Daren," Alleria said, "you can't tell anybody. Please. If they catch us, we-"
"Catch you what?"
Ranon looked at Alleria. "Don't you ever lock the door?"
"Ranon, don't talk to my sister that-"
"Fuck you, Daren, we-"
"Both of you! Shut up!" Alleria cried, exasperated. She squeezed her eyes shut and growled in frustration.
"What's going on?" Daren said.
Alleria looked at Ranon, who folded his arms and walked to the balcony door. He stared out the window. "Ranon...?" she said, then rolled her eyes and cursed.
"What's going on?" Daren repeated.
"Daren, we're-we're leaving," Alleria said.
"What? Why? Where are you-"
"Don't tell him, Alleria," Ranon turned from the balcony. "The less he knows, the better. All you-"
"I have a right to know what's going on," Daren said calmly. "If you don't tell me, then..." he left it hanging.
Ranon advanced on the prince angrily, a snarl on his lips.
Alleria jumped in front of her brother, arms out. "No! Leave him alone! He won't tell anybody! I swear! I know him, Ranon."
After a pause, Ranon conceded, "Then hurry up and get it over with. We need all the time we can get."
Ranon began packing Alleria's clothes; the ones she could take. The princess began explaining the situation, faltering frequently, and blushing when she came to the nature of their departure. A few minutes later, Alleria shrugged and said, "That's it."
Daren gaped at them both, and when he looked from Alleria to Ranon, Ranon gave him a hard glare. The prince looked back at his sister and said, "I... understand. I'll do whatever I can to help."
"We need money," Ranon said. "Get it for us."
"How much?"
"As much as you can. We need food and horses, and a way out of the castle."
Daren nodded. "Of course. Both of you, wait in here for thirty minutes, and then meet me by the stables in the courtyard."
As he turned to go, Ranon grabbed the prince's arm. "If you even think about-"
"I won't," Daren said evenly.
Ranon released his arm, and the prince left the room.
Alleria sat down on the bed and began sobbing. "Oh Ranon! What are we doing? When my father finds out, he'll kill us both! He'll send men after us, and track us down-"
"Be quiet," Ranon said. "I'm still your Champion, and I'll kill anyone who tries to harm you, even if they were sent by your father."
Alleria looked up at him, startled, then wiped her face. "Gods, Ranon, I'm so scared. What's going to happen to us? Where will we live?"
Ranon groaned as she babbled on. Did she have to tell him her every thought? The boy sat down and gazed out the balcony, at the moon. When it was time, they would leave.
***
Aleya and Borim were sitting on a rock, in the middle of the Ystelvan River, an offshoot of the Althorian River. Borim had abandoned his armor after a little convincing, and was wearing boots, winter pants, a tunic, his sword belt, an overshirt, and a fur-lined cloak. Aleya wore an open-necked shirt and some pants. She sat back on her hands and absently plucked the white material.
"How can you sit there in this chill, with practically nothing on, when it's so cold out?" Borim asked. "It's colder than it's been all fall."
Aleya shrugged. "Cold just doesn't affect me much."
"I'll say," Borim snorted. "Go swimming before dawn-"
"Not true! I wait until the sun's just come up."
"Oh, sorry. I should be forcing you to put on a cloak, so you don't get ill."
"Borim, I've never been cold in my life, it's just-"
"Yes you have."
"No I have-when?"
"Remember that night when I fell out of the tree?"
"Yes. So?"
"Well, you slept with me because you were cold."
"No," she corrected. "I just said you were warm. I wasn't cold, you were warm. There's a difference there, but maybe you're too dense to see it."
"You were cold, you were cold," chanted Borim in a sing-song voice.
Aleya scowled. "I was not! It was warmer then than it is now, and look at me! I'm not cold at all!"
Borim raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I think you were. I think you are."
Aleya rolled her eyes and looked back at the camp. A few yards into the woods, Bolthorn and Lia cooked over a fire, talking.
"Borim?" Aleya said a few moments later.
"Hm?"
"What do you think they have to do with all this?"
"Huh? All what?"
"You know. Why did I choose them?"
Borim shrugged. "Don't ask me. You're the seeress."
"No, I was just-"
"Apprenticed to one, I know, I know. Don't tell me you don't have the powers, though. You know you do. I've seen it plenty of times. Besides, how did you know that these two were the ones we were looking for, just by almost flattening Lia with your horse?"
"I guess you're right, but that still doesn't say why we're following them."
"I know."
Beside the campfire, Bolthorn flipped a fish over with his knife, and said, "Lia, why are you following me?"
"Huh?" the elf looked up from her designs in the dirt.
"Why are you staying with me? I thought you wanted to meet some of your elven friends. For some reason, I have no idea why, you just show up out of the blue and fucking follow me around for two months," Bolthorn vented. "Why? I mean, what are you doing with me? And for that matter, what are they doing with me?" the warrior demanded, pointing at the couple in the river. "I'm suddenly stuck with three people I've never met, and they follow me around for almost two months! And I want to know why! Is that too much to ask?" Bolthorn demanded, glaring at Lia.
Lia had been chewing on a piece of grass; it fell from her lips into the dust. She had never seen Bolthorn angry before, and she wasn't sure she liked it. Not that it surprised her. From the moment she met him, she knew that following him would destroy his vision of his future life, but that would happen anyway, whether she came along or not. What surprised her was his sudden vehemence. Nothing had set him off, either. There had been no indication that he had ever felt this way. Perhaps it had been boiling up for too long, and now it was finally coming out.
When she didn't say anything immediately, Bolthorn said, "Can't you understand? I've got so much baggage now! One elf woman, a boy with a sword, and a girl. I can't be hired away for jobs in a situation like this! Not a serious job anyway, or it would threaten you three."
Lia closed her gaping mouth, and said, "No, you can do whatever you want. We'll be safe."
"Lia, I don't care what you say, I'll never feel safe while you guys tag along all the time. I can never get serious guard duty, since you will always be there. I can't bodyguard anyone, I can't realistically consider a career as a mercenary with all of you here."
"So you want us to leave?" Lia said after a moment.
Bolthorn was silent. He flipped another fish over.
Lia curled sat on her heels, and said, "Bolthorn, we will be safe. I'm a lot stronger than you think, and so is Borim. We can both protect Aleya; she's the one who needs it."
"Why?"
Lia scooted next to him. "Listen," she said softly, touching his arm, "I'm sorry for this. I never meant it to happen. The-"
"Sit over there," Bolthorn stated, pointing to the other side of the fire.
Lia pulled her fingers from his arm and went to the other side of the fire. She sat on the log, and leaned forward, her blue eyes glowing. "Bolthorn, you may not think so, but we need you. Perhaps not now, but we will. Aleya's survival, and mine, depend on you..."
"What are you talking about?"
Lia sighed. She debated whether to reveal her true nature to Bolthorn, but decided that now was not the right time. "You'll find out soon, believe me. If it's the money you're worried about, don't. The stuff we sold from the castle will last us for a long time, I have plenty of money, and I have ways of getting money."
"Where? How?"
Lia reached into her backpack pocket and pulled out a pouch. She opened it and showed it to Bolthorn. Gold glimmered in the firelight. "W-Where did you get that?" he stammered.
Lia returned the pouch to her pack, and she said, "I brought it from Anoria. I'm not some peasant girl, you know."
Bolthorn swallowed, and realized he had never asked about her origins. "You...you...yes, but that can only last so long."
Lia stood up, walked around the fire, and sat next to him. "Bolthorn, it will last us into the war, and that's all that matters. Money will have little use during the war, since everyone will be running away or fighting."
"War? How do you know that the Karoks will be defeated?"
Lia smiled and traced a finger along his shoulders. "Everyone knows it. You don't have to be from around her to tell that a war is coming. You can smell it in the wind, and see it in the clouds." Lia's fingertip traveled to the opposite side of Bolthorn's neck, and she smiled. "You know Bolthorn, I-"
"I think I'd better get to bed now," Bolthorn blurted nervously. He pulled away from her hypnotizing touch, and said, "Good night." The warrior hastily climbed into his bedroll, and tried to fall asleep.
Lia looked at him for a few moments, then looked out at Borim and Aleya.
***
Like a gray shadow, Alinor moved among the beds quietly, until he came to Briana's. He stopped by her head, and looked down. The girl's youthful face was framed by a mass of dark curls, and she breathed deeply. She, and all the girls, were far too young to be prostitutes. It was not their choice, though.
Alinor's hand moved out, and one of his fingers touched her forehead. In an instant, all knowledge she had gained from Garen was absorbed. Unfortunately, it was useless. Hopefully, as the two grew closer to each other, Briana, and consequently Alinor, would learn Garen's true nature.
***
Falgor's catapults bombarded the outer wall of Allanon with hundreds of boulders, and only after hours of assault could the damage be seen. Even with the two dozen siege machines, Allanon's walls held strong. It would be days before the first wall was punctured.
Inside, the Karoks waited for their deaths. Outside, the Minion just waited.
END OF ODIN FOUR
******
(c) 1996 by Bill Smith (micro@oz.net)