Shadows

Chapter One: The Root of All Evil

by Bill Smith

Lia dropped the last ten inches to the cold ground.

She walked around to the front of the inn and looked at it. It was a crappy inn, and reminded her of a chicken roost that hadn’t been cleaned since the fox came. The walls were covered in a layer of frozen filth that just made the roughly cut wood look dirtier. There were no lights on inside, which was a surprise. Lia had rarely seen a dark inn. Usually a dark inn meant everyone inside was dead.

Of course it wasn’t even dawn yet, so it might stand to reason that lights would be useless this early in the morning. The main reason, though, was the fact that this was Black Cliff, the most dismal town in existence. Lia had no real hypothesis for why it was so dismal. Kranthae was just a few miles south, as the crow flies, but the swamp should have no effect on the people’s attitudes. If there was an evil aura emanating from the swamp, she would have felt it before, but she hadn’t.

With a yawn, Lia shrugged off those thoughts and walked up to the door. She pulled on it, but it was locked. Even in her exhausted state, it took no effort for Lia to mentally unlock the door. The interior of the inn wasn’t much different than the outside, only it was darker.

Despite the darkness, Lia made her way smoothly through the common room to the stairs. Every step she mounted seemed to increase her exhaustion, and by the time she was at the top, her eyes were fully closed.

Centuries upon centuries of existence hadn’t made Lia wise beyond conception, but she was a master of magic and had gained several innate skills that she fell back on at times like these. Not that they were god-like or anything; she just found them helpful. For example, her five senses had developed (for various reasons) to levels of acuity far beyond any human’s or elf’s. Lia’s other senses were too numerous to identify, so she just clumped them into one big sense that she dubbed "awareness." This awareness was what kept her from breaking her nose on the wall when she came to a dead end.

Lia cracked open her eyelids and slowly looked around the hallway.

Bolthorn was in the door on her right.

She mentally unlocked the door and walked in. Though Lia was unbelievably perceptive, she wasn’t a goddess, so it wasn’t till she had closed the door till she realized that Borim was awake. She knew because the cold metal of his dagger was pressed against her throat.

"Borim," she croaked, "I’m really tired and I want to catch some sleep before we leave in the morning."

Borim jerked the blade away in surprise. "Lia?" he said. "How-How-How did you get here so fast? Bolthorn said you wouldn’t be here for another two weeks!"

Lia smiled sleepily and walked past him, patting his shoulder. "Don’t worry about it. Since you’re already up I’ll sleep in your bed."

"But Aleya’s-"

"So?" Lia yawned, shedding her cloak and overcoat. She crawled under the covers next to the comatose Aleya, and promptly fell asleep.

Ranon practically roasted his hands in an effort to warm them. Gwen sat next to him, still shivering. Both of them had blankets draped over their naked bodies, open in the front, just to let the heat in. It had taken a long time to walk to Ranon’s house on foot, much longer than he had expected, and they had nearly frozen on the way over.

"G-G-Gods," Gwen chattered, "I’ve n-never been so cold in my life."

"If you were any colder you’d be an icicle," Ranon said. He tried to chuckle, but it just came out as a cough.

"N-No joke."

Alleria came out of her bedroom, carrying a backpack. "This is everything of mine," she said. "Gwen, you can wear some of my clothes if you need to."

"You only have one set of winter garments," Ranon said, looking out the window. It was still frozen over with ice, but he could tell that it was still dark out. "We’d better leave now. At the rate that demon healed, he could be better by now."

Alleria appeared nervous for a moment, then she said, "I don’t understand why-"

Ranon shot her a dark look and she quieted. "If we go to Arangrad I’m sure we’ll be safe."

Gwen dropped her blanket and began pulling on her clothes. As she dressed she said, "Isn’t that where you two came from? I mean, why are you going back there?"

Ranon shot a glance at Alleria, then said, "We’ll be away from Garen, at least."

Gwen shrugged on her shirt and said, "I suppose so, I just thought that-"

"Do you want me to start packing your things, Ranon?" Alleria asked.

"Yes, please."

Alleria walked back into the bedroom and began rifling through Ranon’s clothes.

Ranon dropped his blanket and drew on a pair of pants. When he knotted the drawstring below his bellybutton, he noticed Gwen staring at him. "What?" he said, feeling the blood rush to his face.

"You’re pretty strong for a stable boy," Gwen observed.

Ranon looked at his arms and chest, then said, "No. It’s hard work, that’s all. I’m no stronger than-"

"Wren sure doesn’t...didn’t have your build," Gwen said. "Neither did Jesher."

"But Wren is like a foot shorter than me."

"Jesher isn’t," Gwen pointed out.

Ranon grabbed his shirt and pulled it down over his head. This kind of talk was making him nervous. "Everybody’s different."

"Which brings up another point," Gwen said.

Ranon groaned inwardly.

"You and Alleria look nothing like each other. You’ve got brown hair, she’s got blonde hair."

"Just because-"

"Your eyes are different colors. You’re about six inches taller than she is, and-"

"Gwen-"

"No, I want to know what your relationship really is," Gwen said. "You two are definitely not related. What’s the age difference between you two?"

"A year. She’s a year older." Ranon finished tying up his boots and glared at Gwen. "Why do you think I’m lying to-"

"Because you are," Gwen said. She walked up to him and put her elbows on his shoulders, so her hands extended behind him. "My father knows how to detect liars just by the way they move their eyes; he learned it from haggling with other farmers."

"How do my eyes move?"

"I’m not going to tell you, but I do want to know why you’re lying to me. Are you the one who got Alleria pregnant?"

"No!"

Gwen sighed and backed away from him. "Suit yourself," she said.

Ranon scowled and finished dressing. "I’m not lying," he said stubbornly.

Gwen didn’t respond.

A few moments later, Alleria returned with Ranon’s backpack. "You only have a few tunics," she said. "What else should we bring?"

"Blankets, bedrolls, soap, the lantern, tinder box, flask, and anything else you can think of."

Alleria returned to the bedroom, leaving Gwen and Ranon alone again.

He looked at her and she looked back.

Finally, she said, "Unless you want me to go away forever, I’m going to be following you for quite a while. You won’t be able to . . ." she trailed off when Ranon turned his back on her and reached under the couch. He pulled out an object wrapped in brown cloth and carried it to the kitchen table.

Gwen followed him. "What’s that?"

Ranon pulled aside the cloth and revealed his sword belt and sword. It was sheathed in black metal, hammered together over two pieces of wood, which were pressed against the blade. All in all, this was the finest sword Ranon had ever seen; it had been given to him by King Borric after the induction ceremony.

The scabbard had been crafted by the finest metalsmith in Althorien, he’d been told. Whoever had done it was good, if they weren’t the finest. A caduceus had been carved on each side of the scabbard. In each snake’s visible eye, a ruby glimmered brightly.

Ranon drew the sword out and looked at it. It was still clean and polished. Another caduceus was etched on each side of the blade. He’d never used it before, and hoped he never would. If he had to use a sword, this would be his choice blade. It was a hand-and-a-half sword, or a bastard sword. It was about 42 inches long, double-edged, and he could hold it with one or two hands in combat. It was definitely Ranon’s favorite weapon.

"Who’s is that?" Gwen was clearly awed by its elegance.

"Mine," Ranon replied, looking at his reflection in the metal.

"Where did you get it?"

Ranon re-sheathed it and began strapping the belt around his waist. "I got it from King Borric."

"Who?"

Ranon looked at her peculiarly. "Don’t you know who King Borric is?"

That seemed to click. Gwen stared at him for a moment, then said, "That’s bull."

"I’m the Royal Guardian of Princess Alleria," he jerked his thumb toward the bedroom. "We ran away because she got pregnant."

"Bull."

"I impregnated her."

"Bullshit."

"Were my eyes moving?"

Gwen stared at him for a moment. She took a step back. "B-But you’re-you’re-"

As she spoke, Ranon pulled his right arm out of his sleeve and bared his right shoulder. "This is the symbol that designates me as the Royal Guardian. Same as on the sword."

Gwen looked him in the eye, searching for any indication he was lying.

Normally, Ranon wasn’t good at stare-downs, but now he just met her gaze until she asked, "Why did you come up here?"

"She’s pregnant, and we’re going to get rid of the child," Ranon replied. "Neither of us wants the baby."

"But-"

"But nothing," Ranon said. "That was our decision. That’s why we’re here. And now that you know, you can’t tell anybody, got it?"

Gwen nodded.

After a moment of silence, Alleria walked into the room with a cloth sack. "This is the last of it," she said, glancing at Ranon’s sword.

"Good," Ranon pulled his sleeve down. "Let’s go now."

"Are we really going to Arangrad?" Gwen asked.

"Do you see any reason why not?" Ranon replied.

No one spoke, so Ranon picked up his backpack and hefted it over his shoulders. Alleria and Gwen each grabbed a bag and walked out into the snow.

Lia blearily opened her eyes and saw the back of Aleya’s head in front of her. After a few moments, she regained her bearings. It was just past noon, and she was in Black Cliff.

"Damn," Lia murmured, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She sat there for a couple moments then cursed herself for not taking off her shoes when she slept. Now her toes were cramped.

Lia removed her boots and socks and flexed her toes, trying to purge some of the numbness. When she was able to move them properly, she replaced her shoes and looked down at Aleya.

The girl was still deep asleep. The only indication she was alive were her abnormally slow breaths.

Lia reached under Aleya’s back with her left arm and made a handhold out of Aleya’s armpit. With some difficulty, the elf managed to drag Aleya into a sitting position.

Even with repeated shakes, it took another five minutes for Aleya to open her eyes. Another two minutes passed before she was actually awake.

"L-Lia?" Aleya mumbled groggily.

"What?"

"I -- where am I?"

"We’re at Black Cliff."

"When?" Aleya struggled to climb off the bed and avoided falling on her face with Lia’s help.

"It’s the next day."

Aleya staggered to her feet and held onto Lia’s shoulder for stability. "I-I didn’t think you were coming for another two weeks," she yawned.

"I’m fast."

"Uh."

"Come on, let’s go downstairs and get outta here. This inn is terrible."

Aleya nodded and grabbed her clothes from the foot of the bed.

"Yes," Lia said, walking over to the door. "You get dressed and we’ll go get ready to go." She went downstairs, marveling at the grubbiness of this place. No one could do worse if they tried.

In the common room, she saw Borim and Bolthorn playing cards near the fireplace. Bolthorn saw her first and sat back in his chair. When she reached their table, he said, "Might I ask how in Tir’s name you got here so fast?"

"Some birds have the ability to travel across the entire continent in just a few days."

"Huh?" Borim said.

"We need to leave as soon as Aleya is ready," she said. "The Minion will arrive at Althorien tomorrow or the day after, and we have to get back there."

"I don’t understand what we’re going into Swampwood for," Bolthorn said.

"We’re getting the Death Rose."

"But that means nothing to me. We’re getting the Death Rose for Aleya. As soon as she has it, what’s that mean?"

Lia sat down at the table and wondered why she had to go over this again. "As soon as Aleya has the Death Rose, I’m not totally sure what will happen. Whatever she decides, essentially. In any event, I’m going to try to persuade her to help us defend against the Minion."

"She’ll do it," Borim said. "She wants the Minion gone as much as you do, but how much could she help? She’s just an oracle."

"You’re talking like Aleya will become a different person," Bolthorn said.

Lia shrugged. "Maybe. I don’t even know what the Death Rose is, really. She may use it as a weapon, and control it, just like Ajanor did, or-"

"Who’s Ajanor?"

"He was the last possessor of the Death Rose," Lia said. "He used it to single-handedly defeat an army of the Minion."

"By himself?" Borim asked.

Lia nodded. "That’s what single-handedly means. Aleya is his descendent; she’s the only one alive who can touch the stone without dying instantly."

"It’ll kill you if you touch it?" Bolthorn asked.

Lia nodded again. "Or you or Borim."

"How do you know that Aleya-"

"Trust me," Lia said. "And Aleya knows it, even if she doesn’t say so. If you don’t believe either of us, trust the Oracle. She’s the chosen one, remember?"

"But-" Borim began.

"Listen Borim, I know how protective you are of Aleya, but you’ve got to let up sometime. She’s a big girl and soon she’s not going to need your protection."

Borim looked at her for a few moments then said, "If there’s a chance she could die-"

"There’s no chance she’ll die," Lia said. "She’s a descendent of Ajanor, and anyone in his line is protected from the Death Rose. They’re able to wield it."

"Isn’t wielding different from her changing into an entirely different person?"

"The Death Rose has affected its owners in different ways," Lia shrugged.

Aleya came downstairs, rubbing her eyes.

"Don’t talk about it when we’re around her," Lia said quickly.

"Why not?" Borim challenged. "She deserves to-"

"Please, just don’t. It won’t help at all."

Borim frowned, but didn’t say anything when she arrived.

Aleya dropped into a chair and said, "What’s for breakfast?"

"I bought some rolls at a bakery down the road," Bolthorn answered, gesturing to a bag on the table.

Aleya reached in and pulled out a brown wad of bread, roughly shaped like a sphere. "What is this?" she asked, poking it with her finger. "It feels like a rock."

"Black Cliff has the worst food in the world," Lia answered. "I usually pack all my food or eat something in the swamps. Like mud."

Aleya put the roll back in the bag and said, "How did you get here so fast?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Bolthorn commented.

"I bought a fast horse."

"Where is it now?"

"He ran away."

"Let’s go," Bolthorn said. "Anything has to be better than this place."

"Even Swampwood?" Borim asked.

"It’s better," Lia said. "Not much, but it is." Lia stood up and stretched. "Now go get your stuff, boys, and we’ll head into the swamps."

Alyssa looked at the sky, but it was still overcast, so she had no way to judge the time. At least the streets weren’t covered in snow; she didn’t relish the thought of walking from the bank at midnight through a foot of frozen water.

After a moment of consideration, she nudged her horse alongside Galnor’s and asked, "When does the bank close?"

"Not for another two hours. You’ll have plenty of time."

"Good. Now what’s this place called again?"

"Arial’s Favor. Worshippers of Arial got absolutely pissed at them for using that name, and there was a huge squabble for a while, but they couldn’t do anything about it."

"Where is it?"

"Right there," Galnor pointed to a white building at the end of the block.

"And you know this lady?" Alyssa was getting a little nervous. She’d been a whore once before in her life, and now that she was going back...well, it wasn’t a very appealing thought.

The pair stopped in front of the building and an attendant appeared out of the front door. "I will take your horses, sir," he said to Galnor. The attendant glanced at Alyssa.

Alyssa dismounted ungracefully (this was the second time she’d ever ridden a horse) and handed the reins to the attendant. "Thanks," she said.

When they walked up to the door, a guard held his hand up. "Membership, please."

"We have an appointment with-"

"I still need to see your membership."

"But-"

"I can’t let you in unless I see your membership."

Galnor fished around in his pocket and produced a small medallion. The guard looked at it for a moment then opened the door for them. "Enjoy yourselves," he said.

Alyssa followed Galnor into the brothel. Wall-mounted lanterns illuminated the foyer only slightly, but it was still possible to see. "You’re a member of this brothel?" Alyssa folded her arms.

Even in the dim lighting she could tell he was blushing. "It was only once. They were way too expensive for my meager salary at the Red Feather."

A middle-aged woman walked into the room and smiled. "Galnor!" she cried. "How have you been? Haven’t seen you this week. Been busy?"

"‘Haven’t seen you this week’?" Alyssa gaped.

"What? I-I never, never - it was only-" Galnor stammered.

"It was a joke, stupid!" the woman slapped his shoulder playfully. "I heard you from the hall. I assume you’re Alyssa?"

Alyssa nodded.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," Galnor said.

"Anything for the right price," she held out her open hand.

Galnor reached into his tunic and withdrew a rolled sheet of paper. He handed it to her. The woman unrolled it and skimmed over Galnor’s messy handwriting. "Quite generous, aren’t you?"

Galnor shrugged. "We want to make sure you’re getting well-paid for your efforts."

"Of course you are, dear," the woman rolled up the paper and tucked it in her belt. "My name is Madelina. This is my brothel and follow me." She gestured down the hall and began walking. Alyssa and Galnor followed. "According to your servant, you want to assassinate a banker?"

"I want him to do exactly what I say," Alyssa replied.

"You’ll need to have him under your total control, then," Madelina replied. They arrived at the end of the hall and the woman gestured to an overstuffed chair in the hall. "You can wait for us here, Galnor," she directed.

Galnor hesitated, then sat down in the chair.

Madelina opened the door and she and Alyssa went into one of the doors. Once she had closed the door, Madelina said, "You want him under your total control. That can be accomplished in a variety of ways, dependent on your needs and preferences. What’s your goal?"

Alyssa looked around the room before answering. It seemed to be a mix between an office, a bedroom, and a bathing room. Near the entrance, there was a desk with several chairs facing it, and at the opposite end was a bath, a bed, a wardrobe, a washbasin, and a closet. The lights in here were substantially brighter than in the foyer; this woman probably liked to know who she was dealing with. "I want him to transfer money from a nonexistent account into a real one."

"How did the money get there?" Madelina sat behind the desk, opposite from Alyssa. "Embezzlement?"

Alyssa didn’t know that word, but she didn’t want to give the real source of the money.

Sensing Alyssa’s nervousness, Madelina said, "This conversation is in complete confidentiality. Anything you say to me will not leave this room." Alyssa still hesitated, so the woman said, "I have a contract which we can sign, if you like. It just says that if I use, repeat, or in any way communicate anything said in this room, I’ll go to jail until I’m too old to breathe."

Alyssa nodded, "Please."

The woman produced a pair of contracts and Alyssa read it quickly. She signed both copies, then Madelina signed them. Each kept a copy.

"Now that that’s done," Madelina sat back in her chair and folded her hands. "What’s the money?"

"Have you ever heard of the Black Harvest?" Alyssa asked.

"I have. Isn’t that where those people sold false government policies to farmers, and just kept the gold?"

Alyssa nodded. "There’s a whole ring involved, and I found out who’s headed it up."

"Nice work. Now what do you want?"

For a moment, Alyssa wondered why the woman was so accepting of such a young girl’s word like this, but she brushed it off. "I have a credit authorization which will transfer 75% of a specific person’s earnings to an account of my choice-"

"Then what do you need me for? Sounds like you’ve got everything you need."

"I want to make sure he doesn’t alter the records against me, or frame me. He could change the records so that it looked like I or Galnor was the head of this-"

"Hold on. The banker is a member of this group?"

Alyssa nodded. "That’s how they got all the documents they needed. He’s the one keeping the money invisible for them."

"Let me get this straight. You’ve uncovered the chief of the Black Harvest operation, somehow obtained a credit authorization to get three quarters of his profits, and you need this banker to enact that authorization, but you don’t want him to transfer you the money and then set you up to take the fall for the Black Harvest so you need him under your finger the whole time. Is that close enough?"

"That’s it."

Madelina sighed. "What’s to prevent him from altering the records once you’re through with him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Once you leave the room, he could turn around and change everything he did for you and set you up. Without you there to stop him he could do whatever he wanted with you. To prevent that, you need to kill him."

Alyssa blinked. "Wh...kill?"

"I can see you don’t like the sound of that," Madelina said. She paused. "I have herbs that will remove a person’s memory, but they’re a little more costly."

"Money is not the issue," Alyssa said. "I just don’t want to have to kill him."

"Could you, if it came to it?"

"Can I avoid it?"

Madelina looked at Alyssa for a moment, then said, "Yes, you can. It may be more difficult, but it’s possible."

"Good," Alyssa sighed. "I don’t care how much more it costs."

"Well, I’ll discuss that with your friend out there later," Madelina said. She reached into her desk and pulled out a small object that looked like a tooth. "This dissolves in drink, or you can give it to him orally, while you’re kissing him or whatever. It breaks up in the stomach or in alcohol, so it’ll be safe in your mouth if that’s the way you want to do it. Just don’t swallow it, under any circumstances."

"Um, all right," Alyssa said.

"Now this will be your order of operations: one of my guards will escort you to the bank after dusk, you will gain admittance to the bank with one of my gift-wraps-"

"What?"

"It’s just a piece of paper that says you’re a gift to the victim. Works almost all the time. Once inside, you’ll get yourself alone with the banker, seduce him, give him the pill - it won’t take effect for fifteen to twenty minutes, then you’ll get him at knife-point, make him change the records and wait until the pill takes effect."

"How will I know when it takes effect?"

"He’ll get real sleepy and then he’ll sleep. Leave him that way. It removes his memory while he sleeps."

"Oh. But how will I get him at knife-point?"

Madelina picked a cylinder off her desk and held it up. The cylinder was stained wood, about seven inches long, and rounded at both ends. "This is my favorite," the woman said. It appeared to be seamless, but Madelina grasped the bottom of the object with her thumb and forefinger, then twisted. The thing clicked, and a small part detached. Attached to the detached part was a five-inch blade. "Now," Madelina stood up and put the knife back together. "Go wash yourself off and I’ll find you an outfit." The woman went into her walk-in closet, and Alyssa sat for a moment. Finally, she walked over to the wash-basin and stripped off her clothes. She’d already taken a bath, but another one couldn’t hurt.

By the time Alyssa had finished washing, Madelina was standing next to her with an outfit laid out on the chair. "Here," she handed Alyssa a small jar of black paste. "Wash a small scoop of that into your hair, then some into your pubes."

"What’s it do?" Alyssa gingerly dipped her fingers into the stuff and looked at it.

"It turns your hair black, but don’t worry. It washes out."

"Oh. Why do-"

"Because your hair color won’t do. You’re pale, and black hair goes well with white skin. I’m going with a porcelain doll motif."

"Huh?"

Madelina waved her hand. "Just wash that in."

As Alyssa washed the dye into her hair, and when she finished, Madelina handed Alyssa a towel, and the girl dried herself off. Madelina handed her the clothes. The tunic was black, as were the shoes and the arm bracelet.

Alyssa slipped the tunic over her head and tied the silk belt around her waist. "This is short," she noted, looking down. The hem of the tunic only came to mid-thigh, which revealed a lot more than she’d ever exposed to anyone outside of the bedroom.

Madelina handed the girl a pair of black slippers. "This outfit is yours, now. It was covered in Galnor’s fee, so once you leave my brothel, you don’t have to return anything. And keep in mind that if you’re caught, none of this came from here."

"Of course," Alyssa slipped the shoes on her feet and wiggled her toes. They were much more comfortable than the boots Galnor had bought her when she first moved in with him.

Madelina pointed to a body-length mirror against the wall and said, "Have a look."

Alyssa walked over to the mirror and looked at herself. A mere glance was all it took to convince her that the banker would be smitten. The sleeveless tunic exposed practically all of her legs and had a low neckline, which would draw any man’s stares. Even though it appeared unnatural, Alyssa had to admit that her hair looked better black.

Madelina walked between Alyssa and the mirror. The woman had another jar of paint in her hand and a small paintbrush. "Hold still," she said. Then, with a few brush strokes, Alyssa’s eyebrows had also been darkened to black. She used the same paint to blacken Alyssa’s lips. "This stuff is great. It doesn’t rub off on your teeth or anything," Madelina said. "You have to wash it off with alcohol, like a drink or something."

When the woman stepped aside, Alyssa looked at herself and couldn’t help but grin. She looked totally different, and much better than she had at the Red Feather.

"Hold out your hands," said Madelina. When Alyssa did so, the woman painted her fingernails black and blew on them until they were dry. "Shoes," she said.

Alyssa removed her shoes and Madelina painted her toenails black.

Then the woman stood up and replaced the lid on her jar of paint. "You are almost perfect," she said, walking over to her desk. "One last thing." She searched through her bottom drawer and picked out a small vial. Needless to say, its contents were black.

"What’s that?" Alyssa asked.

"I want you to look up at the ceiling," the woman said. "Open your eyes wide."

Despite her nervousness, she did as she was told. Madelina popped open the vial and tilted it above Alyssa’s right eye. A single drop landed in her eye and she squeezed it shut as the cool liquid splashed over her eyeball. Madelina put another drop in Alyssa’s other eye, then took a few steps back.

Alyssa’s eyes were squeezed closed, and she was rubbing them with her hands, when, a few seconds later, they began to burn. At first it wasn’t strong, but a second later it felt like someone had thrust a torch into each eye socket. The pain was so sudden and intense that she didn’t even have time to scream, but then the pain peaked and disappeared. When her senses returned, she was on the ground, gasping for air.

For a few moments, Alyssa kept her eyes closed, afraid she would be blind, but when she opened them, she found that she could see perfectly fine. When she looked in the mirror, her hand covered her mouth. Normally, Alyssa’s eyes were brown, but the vial’s liquid had changed her irises to black.

"Oh gods," Alyssa breathed. "What...what...this is...holy shit!" She scrambled to her feet and put her face closer to the mirror, searching for any glimpse of the former color. "What-what did that do?"

"I believe this lasts for a few weeks," Madelina returned the vial to its place in her desk and brought out a small bottle. She uncorked it and dripped some on Alyssa’s wrists.

Alyssa wasn’t even paying attention; she was still staring at herself in amazement.

"That perfume has magical qualities," Madelina warned. "The strength varies for every person who smells it, but it’s pretty standard. Essentially that stuff is like a mating call, so once he gets hard, you’ll have to work quickly. You don’t want him to try to get inside you."

"I’ve fucked men before."

"It’s not that."

"Well what then?" Alyssa turned from the mirror.

Madelina held up the six-inch knife, encased in the cylinder. "You can’t have sex because this will be inside you."

Everyone room looked up when Olrick entered the room, carrying an armful of papers. He dumped them in the middle of the table.

"What are these?" Borric asked.

"Somebody put some more logs on the fire," Olrick said. "I’m cold."

The servant in the corner of the room obeyed.

"These are blueprints of several key devices that I use in all my tactical warfare."

"Of which there was only one battle," Borena said dryly.

"What?"

"The Battle of Rathax was the only tactical battle you’ve ever fought in," Borena said. "I did some research today, and it appears you have less experience than Soleth."

Olrick opened his mouth to respond, but Borric was faster. "Get out," the king said flatly.

"Excuse me?" the justice asked, surprised.

"Get out," Borric repeated in a bored tone. "You’re just a pain in the ass, and you haven’t helped us at all. Go make some laws that will help us. Mediate a dispute or something, just get out of this council."

"But Sire-"

"Didn’t you hear him?" Corin said. "Beat it."

Borena flushed red and stalked out of the room. She slammed the door on her way out.

"Continue," Borric said.

Olrick wondered when Lia’s spell would wear off. Hopefully, never. "These are several key devices that I utilize in my traps. Go ahead and look at them." When everyone had opened up a copy of the designs, Olrick said, "The first device is a spring-loaded support smasher. It has a relatively simple trigger mechanism, which can be activated by practically anything, if connected properly. The smasher is usually a hollowed out tree trunk, with a spring in the center. Two logs, each one being a little less than half the length of the trunk, are pushed inside the trunk, up against the spring. When they are inside the trunk, a cap is placed on each end, then both caps are tied to each other. That’s the most basic design, but it’s the easiest to understand. Whichever smasher we use, there’s a shitload of pressure ready to be released."

"Wait, wait," Corin turned his blueprint upside down. "I don’t understand."

Olrick decided to approach from a different angle. "I took the leisure of examining Althorian architecture today. Fortunately you are as simple-minded as Rathax when it comes to building things. You all construct buildings as if they were blocks to stack on top of one another. If a building gets too wide, though, you stick supports in the middle of the floor..."

Corin frowned.

"All right," Olrick rolled his eyes. "If, for example, you have a tavern which is 100 feet by 100 feet, that’s a pretty big place, wouldn’t you say? Well, if the tavern has a second floor, then you’re going to be in trouble, because toward the middle of the room, the ceiling will start to sag with the weight of the upper floor. So then what do you do? You have to put wooden supports in. Columns. Pillars, you know? So you want four pillars; you quarter the room with chalk, so you have four smaller squares, at 2500 square feet each. Right? I think that’s right . . . anyway, in the center of each of these chalked-off squares, you put a pillar, so that the second floor doesn’t collapse onto the first floor. Does this make sense so far?"

Most of them nodded, so he continued, "Assume that we want to trap a bunch of Minions in this inn."

"Tavern," Corin corrected.

"Whatever. Naturally, the Minion are drawn to alcohol, so we’ll leave the cheapest stores in there. When a bunch of them are inside, getting drunk, we’ll set off the trap."

"What trap?"

"Oh, sorry. Now, once they’re all inside, getting drunk, we want to collapse the tavern on them so they all die horribly. In order to collapse the tavern, we need to take out the wooden pillars which would make the second floor fall through the ceiling, into the first floor. In order to take out all four of the support pillars, we build two of my smashers at the proper size, and place them under the floorboards or in the ceiling, so each end is facing a pillar. Say the pillars are 50 feet apart from each other, then we’ll make my smashers about 35, 40 feet in length. When the triggers are set off, the rope holding the logs in will be cut, and the logs will launch outward from within the trunk. Each log will strike a support pillar, and the pillar will become kindling. Without the supports, the second floor will fall through the ceiling, burying anyone in the tavern."

There was silence for a few moments.

"What if there’s a support in the middle of the room?" Tolir asked.

"That’s easy. All we do is chisel that until it’s nothing more than a twig, then place paper-thin wood around it, so it looks whole. It won’t support much weight after that."

"No offense," Olis said nervously, remembering what happened to Borena, "but don’t you think this would take a little too much time and money? The Minion will be here in a few days."

Olrick rubbed his forehead in frustration. "That’s the problem with you humans-"

"You’re a human too," Corin muttered under his breath.

"Dwarves and gnomes are collectivist societies," Olrick said. "They’ll all work together when undertaking a project of this size. You have to convince your people to do the same thing, King Borric. There are thousands and thousands of stagnant refugees just sleeping in this city; if you take even a tenth of your citizens and organize them into a working force, work would proceed faster than you could imagine."

"Where will we get all the supplies we need for this?" Tolir asked.

"The Highlands, or from inside the Baring Caves. You’re using those for storage now, aren’t you?"

Borric nodded. "We’re storing food supplies inside the caves now, yes."

"No one’s been eaten by a wraith yet," Corin said.

"We’ll have to train my engineers how to construct these," Soleth said.

Olrick looked out the window. It was almost dusk. "When do your engineers stop working?"

"Right now. Dawn to dusk. I have them working double shifts to finish the grates and the spike-pit."

Borric stood up abruptly. "All right everyone, I think I’ll adjourn the meeting early. It sounds like we all have a lot to do. First thing in the morning, you two explain these smasher things to the city engineers and any companies we’ve hired out. I will assign a soldier compliment for each engineer, in case any of the citizens need more persuasion than the engineers can provide."

"Are you sure that’s wise, Sire?" Volashi spoke up for the first time. "It might increase the citizens’ unrest."

"I’m not declaring martial law," Borric said.

"People might interpret it that way," Corin said.

"Well, who cares. I’m the king. Oh," he looked at Volashi, "what about our new recruits?"

"There has been no word from Midgard, if our messenger even survived the trip through the mountains," Volashi replied. "Arangrad is sending a compliment of 1250 soldiers. They should arrive tomorrow. Harnash still declines; they say they’ll need their own soldiers once we’re defeated."

"What about the rest of the Highlands?"

Volashi shook his head. "Negligible responses. A few mercenary offers, but no real commitment. Everyone seems to think we can handle it."

"Have you got any word from Kyantora?"

"Not yet. I sincerely doubt they will have time to reply before the Minion arrive. If they do, they’d only be willing to sell their services."

"You’re sifting through the ashes trying to get help from the barbarians this late, Father," Corin said.

Borric leaned on the table. The pressure he was under suddenly seemed very real. "I know. But this sounds like the biggest army anyone has ever had to face in recorded history, and we’re doing it alone."

Silence.

Alyssa kept her black cloak tightly wrapped around her body. The tunic she wore was so skimpy it offered almost no protection against the cold. Luckily for her, the bank wasn’t too far from the brothel.

She had left the brothel with Madelina’s escort. He was a burly guard that reminded Alyssa of a bear with too much fur. When the unlikely pair arrived in front of the bank, the bank’s guards looked at them skeptically.

"May we help you?" rumbled one of the guards.

"I present a gift for Rakin Larront’tel," Alyssa’s escort replied formally. He handed them a piece of paper that stated Alyssa’s purpose and that she was prepaid property of Rakin the banker, for the next six hours.

The bank guards examined the paper and one of them grinned. "Go right in, girly. I’m sure he’ll be glad to take you."

"Thank you," Alyssa said timidly.

They opened the door and she tip-toed inside, glancing back at her escort. He jerked his head to a cafe across the street and held up two fingers. Alyssa nodded acknowledgement.

Inside the bank, it was a little warmer, but not much. The bank was a huge building, with one main room and one main fireplace. Many bankers had already left for home; some still sat at their respective tables, finishing up paperwork and tying up loose ends. The bank would close for the last time tomorrow at midnight, until the war was over. That would probably be the busiest day in its history.

Alyssa scanned the remaining few bankers and saw hers. As always, he wore the velvet hat, with its three tassels dangling behind his head. It took a few moments for her to work up the courage to walk over to him, but she finally did, and he looked at her when she reached his table.

At first he didn’t seem to believe what he was seeing, then he said, "M-May I help you?"

Alyssa smiled. "I am a gift from Arial’s Favor."

"I’m sorry?"

"Arial’s Favor is the finest brothel in Althorien," she said in a slightly puzzled voice, as if everyone should know what Arial’s Favor was.

For a brief second, Alyssa could see the lechery flood the man’s eyes. It was like a disease that infected them whenever she got near. Before, when she was still a whore, Alyssa didn’t pay much attention to it; she’d just accepted it. But now that she was a normal person, she found herself absolutely disgusted.

Then that look was replaced with suspicion. "Why? You’re just a gift? Who’s the giver?"

Alyssa reached into her cloak pocket and pulled out a small envelope. Contained within was a carefully forged letter, composed in Oshram Mallor’s handwriting. She had used his credit authorization as a reference. The letter was basically a "thank you" for doing such a nice job with Black Harvest; here was a little extra something for his efforts.

Rakin took the envelope and read the letter. A smile slowly spread across his face as he finished. The banker cleared his throat and put the note aside. "How long are you available?"

"Six hours," she replied.

The man glanced at the other bankers around the empty hall, but none of them were paying obvious attention. "Open your cloak."

Alyssa held in her revulsion back as the man’s eyes crawled up her scantily clad body. "I have a lot of work to do," the man said hesitantly.

More Black Harvest deposits, I’ll bet, Alyssa thought. In response, she let her cloak fall back together.

The man licked his lips nervously. "Is there any way this can wait until tomorrow evening?" he asked.

Alyssa glanced at the other bankers nervously and just wished they would leave. It would be perfect if they could do it right here in the bank; everything would be so convenient. There would be less chance that the pill would knock him out before he had a chance to transfer the credit authorization.

"I’m sorry, sir," Alyssa said. "I’ve already been paid for and everyone’s schedule is full for the next five days. Including mine."

The banker looked at the large sand clock on the far wall and said, half to himself, "I suppose I could come back later."

With an idea, Alyssa said, "How long will it take for you to finish what you’re working on?"

"I don’t know. Why?"

Alyssa appeared to ponder her situation, then she said slowly, "If you wish, I could begin counting my time after you’ve finished your work. I have no other jobs tonight."

The man considered, then nodded, "I would greatly appreciate it. If you like, you may go sit by the fire until I’m done. It shouldn’t be long." He gestured at the roaring fireplace near the end of the hall.

"Thank you, sir," Alyssa wandered over to the fireplace and sat on a stool in front of it. She glanced at the bankers again. One of them had been watching her, but when her gaze passed over him he turned his attention back to his books.

Alyssa made sure her back was to the others, and obscured herself from view with her cloak. She moved a hand beneath the hem of her tunic and slipped a finger inside her nether lips. Less than an inch inside her outer lips, her fingertip came in contact with the knife’s wooden case.

The knife was snug, and she could still feel the pill under her tongue, so Alyssa checked the hidden pocket in the fur cloak Madelina had given her (which was also black). Her credit authorization and other papers were still there.

Once satisfied that everything was secure, Alyssa put her chin in her hands and just waited.

After ten minutes, all the bankers had gone, except for Rakin. Alyssa heard the banker close his books and begin putting away his things. She hopped off the stool and walked toward him. When she reached Rakin’s table, he was lacing up his coat.

"Are you ready to go, sir?" Alyssa asked.

Rakin nodded. "My house is in the southern end of the city, so it will be about a half hour before we arrive."

Alyssa’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t want to wait thirty minutes. With a seductive smile, she let go of her cloak with her hands, so it opened once more. "Are you sure you want to wait that long?" Alyssa stepped close and pressed her body against the man’s.

He drew in a sharp breath, inhaling Madelina’s perfume. Rakin’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. Then he croaked, "We really shouldn’t. The front doors aren’t locked until I leave, and the guards could come in-"

Alyssa’s smile widened and she ran her tongue across her front teeth. "I could pleasure you once, before we leave. The walk home would give you time to recover..." she skimmed a finger down his chest.

Rakin let out a shaky breath and shot a glance at the door. "I’m not sure..."

"When was the last time the guards came in here?" Alyssa asked.

Hesitation, then, "All right. Just-"

"I know what to do," Alyssa smiled. She kissed him on the lips, but decided against pushing the pill into his mouth. It would take some serious skill to give someone a pill like that without them noticing.

Alyssa’s hands went straight to his belt and she unbuckled it. Before he could try to return her kiss, she was kneeling in front of him, freeing his penis. When it came free, it almost struck her in the face, he was so hard. Some perfume.

The memories of Alyssa’s revolting past flooded back, causing a slight pause as her slim hand gripped the erection. Then Alyssa’s resolve hardened and she enveloped the member in her mouth. As she sucked on the man’s penis and listened to his sighs of satisfaction, she tried not to bite down.

Then Alyssa decided that she wasn’t going to let him come in her mouth. She wasn’t going to let him come at all.

Alyssa’s left hand gently massaged the man’s testicles, and her right hand slipped between her legs. With her thumb and forefinger, she reached up into her pussy and twisted on the knife’s case. At first, there wasn’t enough friction inside her for the cap to come off, then she felt it click. Carefully, so she didn’t slice herself open, Alyssa withdrew the knife from between her legs.

In one motion, Alyssa came to her feet and pressed the blade against the banker’s throat. His eyes fluttered open, and he said, "Wh-What are you-"

"Shut up," Alyssa hissed. "If you make a sound, I’ll slit your throat open." To the banker, she must have looked like Lady Death, the mythical sister of Kaholn, the God of Death. Lady Death was actually dead, but she was still supposed to visit pregnant mothers who would miscarry or have a stillbirth.

Fear filled Rakin’s eyes, and his erection deflated faster than Alyssa had ever seen. "Y-You’re Alyssa?" he said.

"Of course. I’m here to get this credit authorization passed," she pulled the paper from her cloak and slapped it onto the table.

"But-But why are you-"

"Because I don’t want you to pull any tricks. You’re going to pass the credit authorization, or I slit your throat. Understand?"

"Yes," he said hoarsely.

"On your knees."

"What?"

"Get on your knees, asshole."

Rakin haltingly dropped to his knees.

With the blade still pressed to his throat, Alyssa reached into her mouth and dug out the pill. "You’re going to swallow this, or I slit your throat."

"What is it?" he asked shakily.

"Eat it, or I kill you." She held the pill above his upturned face.

"What-"

Alyssa pressed the tip into the side of his neck, drawing a single drop of dark blood that ran down his skin.

"All right!" Rakin said desperately.

"Open wide. I want to see it go down."

Rakin opened up his mouth and Alyssa looked in. His teeth were relatively clean, just like most people she knew. It came as a consequence of being rich.

Alyssa pushed the pill down his throat until he gagged and was forced to swallow it. When it was in his stomach, Alyssa withdrew the blade from his neck and stepped back. "All right Rakin," she said. "You’re going to pass that credit transaction now."

Rakin coughed a couple times and stood up. "What was that pill?"

"The pill will kill you in twenty minutes, unless I give you the antidote."

"What?" Rakin choked.

"The pill inside you has already dissolved. If you do not transfer the money to my account within twenty minutes, it will kill you. If you do, I will give you the antidote and you will live."

"A-Are you joking?" Rakin rubbed his throat nervously.

As a show of false confidence, Alyssa put the knife in her cloak pocket. "Of course not."

"Oh...gods."

"Quit dawdling. You have twenty minutes to live, unless I give you the antidote."

Rakin swore, then said, "Where is it?"

Alyssa tapped her cheek. "In my mouth."

"Show it to me."

"You’ll try to take it from me."

"I will not! How do I know-"

"Time’s running out," Alyssa glanced at the sand clock.

Rakin swore every profanity known to Man, then sat down and opened his books. Alyssa walked behind him and stood over his shoulder. It should have taken about ten minutes to complete the authorization, but Rakin finished it in a record five. And Alyssa made sure that he didn’t pull any tricks or leave any revealing evidence behind.

"All right," Rakin slammed his account book closed. "Your account now has 75% of the Black Harvest earnings in it. The account password is ‘bitch’, and here is your receipt," he handed it to her. Alyssa stuffed it in her cloak. "Where’s the antidote?"

"How much gold does that equivilate to?" Alyssa asked.

"More than three million."

Alyssa gaped. "Three million? Holy shit! Are you joking?"

"Where’s the antidote?"

Alyssa jerked the knife from her pocket and pushed it against his throat again, before he could even stand up.

"What are you doing?" he cried.

"The pill I gave you won’t kill you," Alyssa replied. "But this knife can, so keep your hands on the table. It will only knock you out."

"Wh-What? Why?"

"I don’t want you screaming to the guards for help or anything," Alyssa said, toying with one of the tassels on his hat. "I’ll just wait for it to take effect."

"How long does it take?"

"Oh, I don’t know. Twenty minutes from now, probably."

"Fucking bitch."

"What?"

"Slut."

Alyssa pulled the blade against his throat so he could feel it. "Shut up, and we’ll get along, shithead." She felt pressure against the knife as he swallowed.

They stayed in that position for almost twenty more minutes, before Rakin’s head began to loll.

Alyssa carefully pulled the knife away and pushed its point into his back, but he was already fast asleep. She grabbed the credit authorization, ran over to the fire, burned it, then ran back to the door. Just before she reached the door, she pulled the knife’s case out of her vagina and sighed with relief. It was hard to walk with that inside her. She replaced the knife inside its sheath and put the sheath in her cloak pocket.

A couple deep breaths later, Alyssa opened the bank door and stepped out into the cold night.

"Done so soon?" asked one of the guards suspiciously.

"He’s impotent," Alyssa replied sadly.

When she was halfway across the street, one of the guards yelled, "Hey girl!"

Cold sweat broke out on Alyssa’s neck. "Yes?" she asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice. She turned back and looked at them.

"Do you get a refund if you’re impotent?"

Alyssa’s knees went weak with relief. "Y-Yes, you do," she answered, then hurriedly walked to the cafe across the street. Inside, a few people sat in tables around the restaurant, finishing up the last of their dinner.

Cafes weren’t very popular in the dead of winter.

The hairy escort appeared next to Alyssa. "Are you finished?" he asked.

Alyssa nodded. "Yes. Thank you for waiting here. I’ll go home now."

"I told Madelina I’d escort you home," he said.

Natural paranoia of men forced Alyssa to decline. "It’s really not necessary. I-"

The man grinned. "Don’t worry, honey. I’ve done this a thousand times. I’ve got a beautiful wife at home; I won’t hurt you."

Alyssa shrugged. "Whatever."

Borim gaped at the trees of Kranthae. They were hundreds of feet high, and didn’t have branches for the first fifty feet, at least. "I hope you’re not planning on climbing these trees," he told Aleya.

"Huh?" Aleya looked around them. "Oh, don’t worry."

"She’s crazy, but not stupid," Bolthorn said.

"Hey, don’t call her crazy," Borim’s brow scrunched up threateningly.

"Quiet down, you guys," Lia said, peering ahead of them.

They were all seated in a boat, since Kranthae had, on average, four feet of water. Travel was faster this way, and Lia had said they would look like prunes if they waded all the way to Tranoth.

"Is there anything living in these swamps?" Borim asked. "I heard that goblins lived here."

"No doubt some do," Lia said. "But they won’t give us any trouble. There are creatures that might create a bit of difficulty, but nothing serious. Tranoth is the place I’m worried about."

"Why?" Aleya asked.

"Anything out here will be far less dangerous than anything we confront inside the ruins of the city."

"Why?"

Lia chuckled. "As a rule, if there is ever a city that is demolished in some cataclysmic battle, there are always ghosts, demons, or unspeakable evils roaming the ruins. It’s like a feeding ground of souls. Tranoth is just a city of death, waiting for our arrival."

"You’re here, so we’ll be safe," Bolthorn said.

No one could tell if he was being sarcastic.

"Do humans live in these swamps?" Borim asked, looking into the gloom behind them.

"It’s possible," Lia said.

"Because someone’s been following us for about twenty minutes."

"What?" Aleya cried. "When did you plan on telling us?"

Bolthorn looked back behind them. He reached for the lantern on the prow of their rowboat, but Lia put her hand on his. "I know they’re back there. Just leave ‘em alone. It’s a pair of mercenaries from Rinod. They’re following us and hoping we’ll fall victim to something in the swamps. If we don’t, they plan on killing us and stealing our things."

Borim’s hand grabbed his sword hilt. "Stop the boat and I’ll-"

"Shut up and keep rowing," Lia said. "You males are so impulsive. Shit...I mean...oh nevermind. Just leave them alone. We’re going to keep going until we get to Tranoth, and something will stop them before we ever get there, I’m sure of it."

"Like what?"

"The lesser evils of the universe? I don’t know! Just don’t worry about them. We have more important things to think about."

"Like what?"

"Your navel."

Ghin looked contemptuously at the pair of orc sentries in front of him.

"They sent you here to replace us?" one of the orcs said in his native language. He looked at the Fairies and said, "Those wimps?"

An expression of disdain crossed Ghin’s features. "These goblins could tear you a new asshole any day, fucker. We’re the ones Barrok sent to replace you. You’re off duty now, shouldn’t that make you glad?"

The orcs looked at each other for a moment, then one of them said, "Whatever. Just don’t come whinin’ to us when the prisoners escape and kill you all."

They laughed at the lame attempt at a joke and let Ghin’s Fairies stand guard in front of the prisoner compound. When the orcs had disappeared into the camp somewhere, Ghin looked at his small goblin troop. It was still the same size - a dozen little green monsters, with less intelligence than a bug. Combined.

"All right fellas," Ghin said in Goblinish, or whatever their language was called, "proceed."

Twelve puny larynxes voiced agreement, and the Fairies scattered, searching the prisoner wagons. Ghin turned around and watched the rest of the camp, making sure no one else decided to take interest in the prisoners. Dinner had already been served tonight, so it was unlikely anyone would come looking for another prisoner.

Ghin just hoped they hadn’t served up the prince yet.

A minute later, one of the Fairies tugged on his shirt sleeve. "What?" Ghin said, still watching the dark camp.

"I found him!" the Fairy hissed.

"Let’s go," Ghin said. He mentally called the rest of the Fairies and told them to hide in the bushes around the wagons.

The goblin scampered off, and Ghin followed him to the designated wagon. Sure enough, in the rearmost cage, Prince Daren was seated. His clothes were tattered and blood coated the side of his face. The boy’s eyes were haunted, but he still stared at Ghin with defiance.

"Prince Daren?" Ghin said.

"What?" the boy said. His voice was dripping with cold rage.

"I’m here to get you out."

Daren said nothing, and Ghin couldn’t tell what he was thinking without probing, so he said, "I’m here to help you escape."

Daren snorted. "I’ll bet. You’ll probably just eat me, like you ate-"

Ghin dissolved his disguise; the Shadow’s amorphous body seemed to melt away, and left the little wizard standing in its place. "I’m human, kid."

Daren’s outward expression finally changed, to register surprise. "What-What are you-who are-"

"No time," Ghin waved his hand, and the lock popped open. "Get out of the wagon and follow me. I’ll disguise you, too, and we’ll just get out of here."

The prince kicked open the door to his cage and he climbed out unsteadily. His body had been curled into a ball for the last day, and it was difficult for him to move.

Ghin steadied the boy and magically disguised him as an orc. For all intents and purposes, Daren was an orc, and Ghin was a Shadow. Since the number of the Minion was so huge, they would never notice a new soldier. That was why he blended in so easily, flouting false authority and ordering weak underlings around.

Just as Ghin was about to disguise himself, another prisoner called out to him from a different wagon, and then another, and another, until more than a dozen prisoners were whispering at him to be released.

"What about them?" Daren said in his orc-altered voice. It came out more hoarsely and lower in pitch.

"We’ll let them stay," Ghin replied, applying his own disguise. When his voice came out next, it sounded like dry bones being dragged across a wooden floor. "The Minion will definitely notice if we release all the prisoners."

"But we should-"

"No. They’ll draw too much attention."

"Exactly. The Minion won’t be paying attention to us when a hundred prisoners are escaping."

I must be getting senile in my old age, Ghin thought to himself. "We’ll loose the cages once we’re outside of the camp."

"How?"

"I’m a mage, so shut up. Let’s get out of here." Ghin dragged Daren toward the edge of the camp. He called his Fairies telepathically, and they were soon trooping loyally behind. Daren paid them no mind, since they seemed to be working with Ghin.

At the edge of the prisoner wagons, Ghin looked around again. With the aid of his magic, he was able to see that no one was awake within a hundred yards, so he gave the signal and they all broke for the woods.

Their mad rush lasted for nearly ten minutes, until Ghin finally halted everyone. "All right," he said. "Nobody noticed we left, so we can probably-"

"What about the prisoners?" Daren asked.

Ghin rolled his eyes. "Who gives a shit? They’re gonna die anyways, kid. Those that aren’t killed in the escape attempt will-"

"But you have to give them a chance! If you don’t-"

"Shut up," Ghin hissed. He closed his eyes and went slowly back to the camp, feeling for anyone who might be watching. The only real danger was Marath, because that was one mean Overlord. And now that the Overlord was earthbound...well, he was more vulnerable, but he was also more open with his power.

Marath was the last person Ghin wanted to meet.

Quiet as a mouse, Ghin’s consciousness slipped back into the prisoner wagons, and in one big wave he popped their locks. Before he could see the results, Ghin was back in front of Daren. "It’s done," he said. "Now let’s get out of here before we’re detected."

"But-"

"We risked our necks for you and you just want more!" squawked one of the Fairies in goblin language.

"Yeah, so shut up!" cried another one.

Murmurs of agreement came from the others.

"What do they want?" Daren said.

"They said to shut the fuck up and get going, because you're a royal pain in the ass. Now hurry it up. If we keep walking, we’ll make it to Althorien by dawn."

Alyssa slammed the door shut behind her. "I’m home!" she hollered.

Almost instantly, Bree was there from a side door in the foyer, forcing the air from Alyssa’s lungs in a vicious hug. "I’m so glad you’re alive! You could’ve gotten killed! Why didn’t you tell me you were going?"

"Forgot to mention it," Alyssa said breathlessly, giving Bree a squeeze.

Galnor ran down the stairs two at a time and appeared in another doorway. "Well? What happened?"

"Give me food and I’ll tell you," Alyssa said, pulling away from Bree’s embrace.

"Nor!" Galnor yelled.

The servant appeared in the third foyer door. "Yes?" he said.

"Food."

"Now," Alyssa added.

Nor bowed shortly and said, "It’s almost done. It will be waiting for you in the dining room."

"Holy shit..." Bree whistled, looking Alyssa up and down. "You look like Lady Death! What did you do to yourself?"

"Madelina did it," Alyssa smiled charmingly. "Like it?"

Bree squinted at Alyssa’s eyes and said, "What happened to your eyes?"

"They’re black now," Alyssa walked toward the dining room and kept talking. "I guess Lady Death was my motif for this job," she jerked the hem of her tunic toward the floor, trying to get it further down her thighs. "I like it. The tunic’s a little drafty, but it’s nice."

"Take off your cloak," Galnor said.

Alyssa unclasped it and handed it to him. She held out her arms and posed. "What do you think?"

"Wow," Bree said.

"Gods I can’t look!" Galnor shielded his eyes from her melodramatically. "The radiance is too great! I’ll go blind!"

"They say not to look directly into the sun," Bree said.

"Tuh," Alyssa snorted. "A sun wearing all black."

"Hey!" Bree frowned. "You changed your hair!"

Galnor burst out laughing, and Alyssa stifled hers.

"What?" Bree asked.

"Don’t you think it’s interesting that you noticed her eyes had changed color before her hair?" Galnor asked.

Bree put her fists on her hips. "I don’t care very much for your-"

"Food’s here!" Nor called, hefting three plates of steaming meat into the room. He placed them at the table and said, "What will be your pleasure for drinks tonight?" Alyssa couldn’t help noticing that Nor’s eyes wandered a little too much over her cleavage.

"Something, soon," Alyssa jabbed her knife into the steak and began cutting.

"I want that new bottle of Grollenik we bought today," Galnor said.

Nor bowed and returned to the kitchen.

"What happened?" Galnor asked anxiously.

"Remember that it’s her money," Bree said.

"Of course," Galnor replied innocently.

Alyssa looked at them both, then said through a mouthful of food, "It went off without a hitch. We need to go in tomorrow morning to withdraw it all."

"Will it still be there?" Bree asked. "With the bank closing for the war, I would have thought they would have gone dry by now, what with everyone demanding their money and all."

Galnor looked at her. "Bree, I never knew you were interested in finance."

"I’m not; I just heard a merchant say that the other day."

Alyssa giggled.

"No," Galnor said, spearing a potato and devouring it. "The bank has not run dry. The geniuses in the Hawks department have come down hard on everyone who owes them money. Anyone who’s tried to withdraw funds over the past two months has been slammed with war tax, unpaid debts, fines, illegal charges, and everything else you can imagine, just so they can stay alive."

"That won’t endanger my account, will it?" Alyssa asked.

Galnor shook his head. "I’m totally confident that the Black Harvesters protected that account. Whoever’s behind your fake account has to be aware of this situation. We’ll have access to the money, don’t fret."

"‘Don’t fret,’" Bree mimicked.

"Shut up," Galnor said.

"Leave me alone," she punched his shoulder.

"I can tell you to shut up if I want. I own this house, remember? And you haven’t paid rent in a while..." he trailed off implicitly.

Alyssa scarfed down the rest of her food as Galnor and Bree’s banter escalated into a tickle battle. She sat back in her chair and robbed the wine from Nor when he carried it in. She drank straight from the bottle and said, "It’s too fucking cold in here. I’m going up to take a bath."

She stood and carried the wine bottle with her upstairs.

"Hey, wait!" Bree called, sliding off Galnor’s lap.

"Where are you two going?" Galnor demanded, grabbing a piece of garlic bread.

In the bathing room, Alyssa untied her sash and slipped the tunic over her head. She dropped it in the corner and grabbed a bar of soap. When Bree came in, she had already begun scrubbing down her body.

"Need any help?" Bree walked over to her naked friend.

Alyssa handed her the soap. "That’s the last time I ever get near a guy I don’t want to fuck. Fuckin’ shit, that’s gross."

Bree stripped out of her clothes and began rubbing the soap along Alyssa’s back. "What happened?"

"I just went in and played whore for a little bit. It only involved sucking his dick, but I just wanted to fuckin’ puke. So I pulled out my knife and made him swallow that pill. I told him it’d kill him in a half hour if I didn’t give him the antidote. It just erased his memory of the past day or so, but that threat worked enough for him to transfer the damn money for me. Then he passed out."

Bree finished scrubbing Alyssa’s back so she took the cup from the wash basin, dipped it in, then poured it over the older girl’s back. When the soap had rinsed off, she said, "Let me do your hair."

Alyssa kneeled in front of the washbasin. "I mean, I know I’ve done it a thousand times before, but this time, I just feel gross. This is the only time I’ve ever felt that way about it. But why? Why’s it so sickening now?"

Bree soaped up Alyssa’s blackened hair. "Alyssa, you’ve always pretended that whoring is a way of life for you, but I don’t think you really believe it."

"What are you talking about?" Alyssa scoffed. "Of course I do."

Bree shrugged and watched the foam turn black with dye. "You just denied it a second ago. I think it’s hard for someone to view prostitution as a way of life. You’ve been taken advantage of your whole life by the most disgusting people in the universe, and you call it a way of life." She paused in her talk, but continued washing Alyssa’s hair. "I know I’ve hated it, but Garen and Galnor have helped me get through my repulsion of sex."

Alyssa sighed. "I suppose you’re right, sort of."

"Watch it, I’m going to rinse now." Bree took the rinsing bowl and began transferring water from the wash basin to the top of Alyssa’s head.

When she had finished, Alyssa pulled her hair behind her head and looked at herself in the mirror. The dye had mostly washed away. Her hair was darker, but not terribly so. "I ‘m not disgusted by men in general, just ones who I need to fuck for money."

"In other words, the banker."

"So far, yes."

"What do you mean, ‘so far’?"

Alyssa turned Bree around and began scrubbing her back. "I’m still young and beautiful, and my talents could come in handy in the land of commerce. I might need to fuck someone to get a favor sometime."

"Bullshit," Bree turned to look at Alyssa. "You can-"

"Turn around," Alyssa forced Bree’s shoulders back into position. "You don’t really believe that’s feasible, do you? This is a man’s world, Bree. Women have no rights, unless we’re royalty. If we’re not, we’re basically screwed from the minute we’re born."

"There’s more to life than money..."

"Exactly, and we can’t have any of it, including money. Women are looked at as inferior in Tirn Aill." She began rinsing Bree’s back. "We can’t hold a place of power because it’s a cultural truth that we’re inferior."

"But that’s the way it’s always been. You can’t change-"

"That’s what I just said, dufus. It is basically a fact that men are superior to women, because that’s what we’re taught from birth, till the day we die. It’s not true, of course, but talk is cheap and won’t do anything to change that."

"And you expect to do something about it?"

"Damn right I will. On your knees, girl."

Bree kneeled in front of the basin and let Alyssa wash her hair. "Alyssa, you’re smart...you’re smarter than I’ll ever be, but-"

"Bree! Don’t say that-"

"I’m talking? Thank you. But how do you expect to conquer the thousands and thousands of people’s beliefs? You can’t win against them, no matter how true or righteous the cause. OW! Watch it with the hair!"

"Sorry," Alyssa said unapologetically. "I guess your lack of enthusiasm touched a nerve," she pulled out another tangle. "I figured that women would be willing to back me up on this one, but..." she shrugged.

"Of course I’ll help you, silly," Bree said. "I’m just telling you what I think. You think it’s gonna change your mind? You’re so stubborn-"

"Ya ya ya," Alyssa said impatiently. "All right. But listen to me. I’m going to win-"

"Win what?" Galnor asked.

Both girls jumped, and looked toward the door. Galnor was seated in one of the chairs, watching them.

"How long have you been there?" Bree asked.

"A while," Galnor said. "Should I get Jalla to fill up a bath for you?"

"Yes," Bree said.

Galnor opened the door and yelled for Jalla to bring up some bathwater. He leaned back in and said, "Win what?"

Alyssa snapped back to their conversation. "Oh, that. I’m going to turn this world into a women-run world."

Galnor raised his eyebrows. "Are you joking?"

Alyssa shrugged and continued massaging the soap into Bree’s hair. "Sort of. I’m going to make it so that women aren’t powerless, at least. Just because men are stronger, they think they can run everything."

"Merchant’s run everything," Bree said, "and they’re not strong."

"Well...you know what I mean."

"How do you plan on changing the world so drastically?" Galnor asked, furtively slipping some glances at Alyssa’s body, while still paying attention to her argument.

"Simple," Alyssa smiled at him. "After the war, when Althoria’s at its weakest, I’ll hit them with everything I’ve got."

Jalla came in and walked to the other end of the room. She began filling the tub from a pump in the opposite corner.

"Which will be what, exactly?" Galnor asked.

"Money. Everything I get from the account tomorrow. I’ll transfer it up to Arangrad during the war-"

"Why there? Why not stay here? I have the royal policy on our basement, you know. I’ve already signed off contracts with a dozen merchants who want to transfer their money from the Bank of Althoria to my basement. It’s safe."

"Sorry," Alyssa shook her head and began rinsing Bree’s hair. "I don’t trust this town, and things will become to hot here during the war. What if Althorien doesn’t win?"

"Against the Minion?" Galnor was incredulous. "Althoria hasn’t lost a battle in over-"

"The Karoks have never lost a battle," Alyssa cut him off. They were silent for a few moments, until Alyssa finally continued, "I hope to Aenis that Althoria wins. If not...well, I don’t think anything’ll matter then. When Althoria beats the Minion, I’ll come back with all my money and hand it out to everybody. People will flock to me, the queen of gold, and they will become my lifelong servants for just a few coppers. Althoria will be in such economic shit that my money will have more influence than the gods." When she stopped, she noticed that Bree and Galnor were staring at her. "Uhm, well, maybe I’ll just figure it out later." She dumped a bowlful of water over Bree’s head, and the younger girl coughed as soap suds poured down her face.

"Well," Galnor said, "I think I’ll turn in early tonight." He stood up.

"Don’t go!" Alyssa said.

Galnor glanced at Jalla, who had just finished filling up the tub. She bowed out of the room and closed the door. "You know," he said, "you girls are like cats."

"Huh?" Alyssa said as she finished rinsing Bree’s hair.

"Look at you; you’re both washing each other like cats do."

Bree stood up and slicked her hair back.

"No," Alyssa grinned, "this is like cats." She leaned over and took a big lick of Bree’s cheek.

"Ew!" Bree grimaced, wiping her face off.

Alyssa smiled suggestively. "Are you sure you won’t join us, this time?"

Galnor sighed and looked at Bree, who smiled back at him. "I-I suppose so," he said. He locked the door and began removing his clothes.

Bree whispered into Alyssa’s ear, "So much for your disgust of men."

"We’re growing girls," Alyssa replied. "We all get certain urges from time to time." She picked up the wine bottle and took another drink.

They both slipped into the hot water, and Galnor joined them a moment later. The three passed around the wine bottle until it was empty, and Alyssa rolled it across the tiled floor until it hit the wall.

"That was pretty weak wine," Galnor commented. "I expected Grollenik wine to be stronger."

Bree burped daintily. "I think it’s too strong."

They looked at Alyssa expectantly and she said, "I think I drank too much."

"You didn’t drink that much, did you?"

"Did you feel the water get warmer?" Alyssa asked.

Galnor laughed, but Bree said, "What?"

"Nothin’," Alyssa waved her hand.

"No, what?"

Alyssa slid next to Bree and ran her hand down the girl’s side. "I think it’s good you decided to expand your horizons last night," Alyssa said.

Bree shied away from Alyssa’s touch. "Well, Galnor’s here, I don’t think that we should-"

"Galnor won’t mind, will he?" Alyssa looked at him pointedly.

Galnor leaned back and said, "I’m just enjoying a nice soak. You two do whatever you want."

Alyssa looked at Galnor for a moment. She had considered him a friend, but not a close one. Perhaps it was the minimal amount of alcohol she carried in her system, but Alyssa suddenly found Galnor to be one of the most attractive people she’d seen in her life.

As soon as she thought that, she knew it was the wine. Nevertheless, she moved over to him and said, "How long have we known each other?"

Galnor sat up straighter and tried to keep his eyes on hers. Her black marble eyes. "Ever since you came to the Red Feather. Probably four years."

Alyssa grinned and said, "I never told you how cute I thought you were, did I?"

"What?" Galnor said nervously.

The girl’s left hand slipped beneath the surface of the water and found Galnor’s erection.

He grunted when she grasped it.

Alyssa turned to look at Bree, and tried to gauge if Bree was feeling jealous. Bree’s expression was unreadable, so Alyssa decided to take a chance. She turned her back to Galnor, and straddled his legs, still holding his erection, which was getting stiffer.

Slowly and deliberately, Alyssa lowered herself onto Galnor’s penis, until his erection was buried to the hilt. She leaned against Galnor, so her back was pressed against his chest.

Alyssa motioned for Bree to come over. "Get over here," she said.

Bree slid through the water, and when she was close enough, Alyssa crossed her fingers behind Bree’s neck and drew the younger girl into a deep kiss. They kissed for almost a minute, and when Alyssa pulled her mouth from Bree’s, she said in a slightly drunken voice, "You don’t mind if I fuck Galnor, do you?"

Bree giggled and said, "Fuck him all you want, so long as you leave me something at the end."

"Good," Alyssa smiled. With her hands on Bree’s shoulders, she began bobbing up and down on Galnor’s cock, relishing the feel of an actual erection inside her pussy, instead of fingers or a seven-inch knife sheath. He took that as a signal to begin and began grinding his hips against hers.

The pleasure mounted quickly for both of them, and it was difficult to tell who came first. At the moment of her orgasm, Alyssa pulled Bree’s mouth to her own in another, harder kiss. She ended up screaming around Bree’s tongue, her fingernails almost drawing blood from Bree’s shoulders.

Galnor emptied his semen into Alyssa’s canal, which contracted around his erection, drawing his seed deeper into her abdomen.

When their orgasms had passed, Bree suggested, "Why don’t we go into the bedroom?"

"Good idea," Alyssa mumbled into the girl’s mouth. "Your bed can fit three people, right?"

Olrick had been up with the dawn, and had everything laid out in front of him, prepared to review his war-phase traps. Most of the war council was still half asleep, drinking their tea and mumbling to each other. The only one absent was Prince Corin, perhaps the smartest one of them all, and Olrick was almost reluctant to begin without him.

When he sensed the impatience of the others, though, Olrick finally said, "Well, I suppose that-"

The door to the council room slammed open, and everyone’s head turned. In the open doorway stood a young man, breathing heavily. He wore a short cloak and traveling clothes. "The-The-They’ll be here by - by noon," he managed.

"Who will be?" Borric asked.

"The-The Minion," the man gulped for air. "Their camp is no more than ten miles away. They’ve been there all night, and-"

"Noon!" Tolir choked on his tea, suddenly registering.

A cacophony of oaths drowned out Borric’s next words until he slammed a fist on the table. "You," he pointed at the messenger. "Go find Lord Garak. Tell him he’s just been promoted to general."

"Why?" Olrick asked. He was the only one who dared question the king.

"Jerik hasn’t returned yet," Borric said. "Neither has Daren, so-"

Daren and another man walked into the room.

"Corin, where have you been? Who’s this?" Borric asked. "Get out of here!" he told the messenger.

He bowed and sprinted out of the room.

"I’m not Corin, Father," Daren said.

Everyone’s jaw dropped, and it took Olrick a moment to put it together. Daren had bathed and donned a new outfit, but the difference between the two brothers was noticeable. Daren was skinnier and had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was messier, but the main difference was in the way he carried himself. Before he had gone, his attitude was one of indifference; he had been mellow and laid back most of the time. Now, even in his eyes, one could see the solemness. Daren had grown up in his absence.

"D-Daren?" Borric gawked. "How did you...?"

Daren motioned toward Ghin. "This man helped me escape from their prison camp. His name is Ghin. He’s a wizard."

Ghin smiled and bowed.

Borric rushed over to Ghin and took his hand. "I am in your debt, sir. If there is any way we can repay you..."

"Not now. In the future, however, I may call upon your line for aid," Ghin said.

"Anything you want," Borric said.

"First, I would like to assist you in this battle."

"What?"

"I am a wizard, as your son stated. I could be of great assistance."

"We would be delighted for you to join our cause," Borric said, surprised. "You may coordinate with the Magi if you wish to assist us. The Magi is the mages guild in Althorien. One of my servants can tell you where it’s located, if you like."

Ghin nodded. "Yes, of course. Perhaps we will meet again later, but it looks as though you have important matters to discuss in the next three hours. I will depart now, and leave you be."

When Ghin had gone, the whole room was quiet.

"Daren," Borric looked at his son. The emotion could clearly be seen on the king’s face, but not so on Daren’s.

The prince’s outward emotions appeared blank, but inside, Olrick guessed, he was probably roiling with fury. His father had sent him out to die, and he had returned to be welcomed back with open arms, as though nothing had been done wrong.

"The Minion," Daren prompted, sitting in Corin’s chair.

"Ah, uh, yes," Borric said, returning to his head seat. "We only have a few hours to organize our defenses. Which of your traps have been established?" Borric asked Olrick.

Olrick cleared his throat. "The bridges are collapsible, thanks to Soleth’s engineers. Most of the pit is completed, and most of the lattice is in place. There are still some workers out there, so someone needs to go retrieve the diggers immediately. All the cattle that haven’t been brought in for storage have been poisoned, as of this morning, so the Minion may suffer from them. Any crops that haven’t been gathered have been burned, and it’s my recommendation that you burn every building and tree within a mile of Althorien. The grates beneath the city are being worked on as we speak, but nothing more."

"Who are you?" Daren asked.

"This is Olrick Mahr," Borric said. "He’s our new tactical engineer."

"Why burn everything?" Tolir asked.

"If we leave buildings for them, the Minion will take advantage of it and sleep indoors. They’ll be safer and warmer, and we don’t want that. We want to force them to sleep outdoors in the snow, since we haven’t had time to build any smashers."

"There’s not much snow left-"

"It will snow today," Olrick said.

"How do you know?"

"My leg is killing me."

"Why do you want to burn the trees?" Daren asked.

"Trees are shelter." Olrick looked at King Borric. "Is that suggestion feasible, Sire?"

Borric nodded brusquely. "Yes." He snapped his fingers at the servant in the corner and said, "Go get Lord - General Garak and tell him to give 1000 soldiers torches and tell them to burn everything within a mile of the city. And send someone to retrieve the pit diggers."

"Yes, your majesty," the servant bowed and bolted from the room. Another servant replaced him moments later.

Olrick wiped his forehead and noticed that he was sweating. "Everyone, I believe that we’re in trouble."

"No shit," Daren muttered.

Borric stood up. "We don’t have any more time to waste in here. Tolir, have you finished your rations plan?"

Tolir nodded. "I have."

"Good. Pass it along to Lord Alasker; he will be overseeing the storage of rations and the security in the Baring Caves." He turned his attention to the foreign relations minister. "Volashi?"

"No word from any other countries," Volashi said. "We have twenty new volunteers from the Highlands, but nothing new."

"Olis?"

The chancellor of treasury said, "The Money Watchers have hit harder than ever, Your Majesty, and they’ve kept the bank from losing all its money by merely threatening account holders with fines and charges of illegal activity. Most of them are true, which makes it easier on us."

"That sounds pretty underhanded," Daren noted.

"We need all the money we can get," Olis shrugged. "Especially from the bank. I will search through royal documents this evening and see if I can dredge up old debts from other countries."

Borric turned to Olrick and said, "You and Soleth go work on whatever you need. If you need manpower to force citizens into working, then ask Garak. We’ll be in the south end of the courtyard in about an hour."

Olrick bowed. "Of course, Sire." He looked at Soleth and the two men walked out of the room.

Borric turned to Borena and said, "Have you completed the War Law?"

The War Law was their unofficial term for the new set of laws that applied during the war. Tolir’s ration laws were included in part of that, but primarily it was full of taxes and labor requirements.

Borena was more subdued since being kicked out of the previous meeting. "I have," she said.

"Good. Send me a copy within the next half hour, and I’ll go over it with the Legion. Is there anything I’m forgetting?"

"Prince Daren," Volashi said. "You said you were a prisoner. Is there anything you could tell us about them that could help us at all?"

Daren shrugged. "Just that we’re fucked. They’re not terribly organized outside of battle. They eat the prisoners, they’re barbaric and evil, they enjoy watching people suffer, and there are so many of them that it makes our army look like a joke."

Someone knocked on the door.

"What?" Borric said.

Another servant entered the room, bowed, and hurried over to Olis. The servant whispered frantically into the chancellor’s ear. By the time the servant was finished, Olis’ entire bald head had gone white. He stood up.

"What is it?" Borric asked.

"Someone’s just pulled their entire account from the bank," Olis replied, gathering his papers together.

"So?"

"The account was worth over three million."

"What?" Borric literally staggered. "I didn’t think the whole bank had that much money in it!"

"It does, but according to the bankers it never knew that particular money existed," Olis said, pulling on his cloak. "Someone’s been dragging this money right under the bank’s nose, and no one even noticed. They withdrew the money just a few hours ago, so there might be time to catch them."

"You mean the money’s illegal?" Daren asked.

"Without a doubt," Olis laughed, pulling his hood up. "I’m going down to the bank to investigate."

"You," Borric pointed at the servant, "go to General Garak and tell him to send out a search party for these people."

The servant nodded curtly and sprinted away.

"Fuck!" Borric swore as Olis walked out of the room.

Daren chuckled to himself.

Alyssa could feel the blood rushing through her veins as the wagons creaked past. "Is that all of it?" she asked, a little giddy with emotion.

Galnor nodded. "Exactly three million. I’ve taken out fees for transportation and security."

"How much did that cost?"

"A hundred thousand something."

"What?" Alyssa cried.

"Calm down," Galnor said. "Remember that I went to great pains to ensure that everything here will get to Arangrad. I know this looks like a haggard caravan, but it’s the best people Althorien has to offer."

"It looks like a bunch of refugees," Bree said.

"That’s what it’s supposed to look like," Galnor replied. "Everyone here is a mercenary of some sort. All the gold is hidden inside the wagons in clothes chests. There are three hundred chests in all, and all of them are magically locked. You’re the only one who’ll be able to open them, so there’s no worry about the mercenaries stealing anything."

"But-But...when did you do all this?" Alyssa asked.

"After you first showed me the note."

"But that was only a couple days ago!"

Galnor nodded. "I know. I’ve made a lot of contacts through this escapade, so it was profitable for me too. Not as much, mind you, but still profitable."

"How did you find all these people though?" Alyssa said through chattering teeth. A snowflake drifted inside the hood of her cloak and landed on her nose. She tried to blow it off but it had already melted.

"I worked at the Red Feather for five years," Galnor said. "I know more about the commercial dynamics of this city than most merchants. I know who to contact and where to contact them, that’s why Kamin and I were able to put this together so quickly. Most of them are awake at night, so it was easy for me to visit them secretly."

"But you were with us last night," Bree said. "Remember?"

"Think I could forget?" he grinned. "The night before last is when I talked to most of them. Those that I know, anyway."

Alyssa counted the wagons as they continued to roll past. There were ten of them. Ten wagons, each one with thirty chests...each wagon held 300,000 gold. Holy fucking shit.

"How did you get the gold, though, since I wasn’t there?" Alyssa asked. She and Bree had been asleep while Galnor withdrew the money this morning, and when he woke her up, two hours past dawn, the wagons were rolling under her window, toward Arangrad.

Now, the trio stood in the outskirts of upper Althorien, on the main trade route to the Highlands city.

"Me, Kamin, Jafrin, and a few other ‘investors’ went to the bank and withdrew it. That simple. After you passed the credit authorization, it was no longer located in the Black Harvest account, so all we had to do was pull it out of the real account."

"I don’t understand. How could you have access to the account?"

"I stole the receipt from your cloak."

"What about the password?"

"You told me."

"I did not! When?"

"When you were drunk off your ass last night."

"Oh, don’t remind me," Alyssa said. She’d puked three times this morning. Hangovers were not things she would want to get used to. "But how come they let you withdraw that much money from the bank?"

"Because our imposter was the one who transacted the money."

"Imposter? Who imposter?"

"Rakin Larront’tel."

"You lost me."

"Our imposter disguised himself as Rakin. Your banker."

"What did you do with the real one?"

Galnor hesitated. "Um, he died last night."

"What?" Alyssa stepped back.

"It wasn’t the pill you gave him," Galnor lied. "When he woke up, he just collapsed. Probably shock killed him. He was old, you know. If his memory was wiped out and he woke up in the bank, it might’ve scared him to death. Literally."

Alyssa sounded skeptical, but she said, "Whatever you say. How did you know he died?"

"When he didn’t come out by two in the morning, our men snuck in through the windows and replaced him with our imposter, who walked out then walked back in at dawn. We walked up to him, he gave us the money, and all the porters who transferred the money to our wagon were hired by us as well."

Alyssa looked at Galnor suspiciously for a few seconds, then said, "Why don’t you start from the top, and tell me everything?"

"You’re a pretty bad liar," Bree admonished.

A man on a horse rode up to them, and Galnor said, "This is Kamin. He’s in charge of these ‘refugees.’"

Kamin dropped off his horse and shook hands with Alyssa. It was difficult to give an accurate appraisal of him because he was dressed like a refugee, and hadn’t shaved in two days. His hair was greasy and unkempt, and his clothes were drab, but that was probably just for show. They all needed to look like refugees, and so far, Alyssa was the only one who didn’t.

His handshake was strong, at least. And Galnor obviously trusted him, so he had two plusses.

"Pleased to meet you, ma’am," Kamin smiled. Straight teeth, polite language. Four plusses.

"Likewise," Alyssa said.

"I’m in charge of this ragamuffin band," he gestured at the line of wagons. "Everyone here answers to me, and I answer to you, so I’m at your service."

Another man rode up to them, leading a pony. Probably for Alyssa.

Galnor said, "Well, Alyssa, you’re in charge now. Bree and I will head back to the mansion now. I have some business to conduct."

"Will he be able to tell me the whole story?" Alyssa asked.

Galnor nodded. "Yes. If he so chooses."

"None of this can be traced back to you, correct?" Alyssa said.

"Worry not, I have taken all the necessary precautions. I'm the last place anyone would expect to look."

"So I have nothing to worry about, right?" Alyssa said.

"Right," Galnor said. "Everything’s taken care of. We’ll-"

"Oh no!" Alyssa put her hand to her mouth.

"What?"

"I forgot to give Jordak his 10,000!"

"Who?"

"Jordak! He’s the engineer that saved me after...well, he helped me in the two weeks I was gone. I told him I would give him 10,000 to start up a construction business."

Kamin leaned over to Galnor and whispered something in his ear. The two men conferred quietly for a moment, then Galnor told her, "It’s all taken care of. We’ll find out who this Jordak is, and we’ll get the money to him. With the amount of profit we’ve all made from your blackmail, 10,000 is pocket money."

Alyssa furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about? One hundred thousand was distributed to Kamin’s mercenaries. That’s not a whole-"

Kamin laughed and led the riderless horse to her. "Hop up and I’ll tell you all about it."

"Galnor?" Alyssa said dangerously.

Galnor leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Everything’s all right. Enjoy your trip. Be sure to come back once the war’s over."

Bree hugged Alyssa and said, "I’ll miss you."

Alyssa felt tears spring to her eyes and she returned the hug. "I’ll miss you too. Be good."

Kamin helped her up into the saddle and Alyssa smiled down to them. Kamin mounted his horse and rode toward the front of the wagon train. Alyssa and the other man trotted after him.

"You’ll tell me the whole story, right?" Alyssa asked.

"Of course," Kamin flashed a grin at her. "You’ll no doubt find it interesting."

"If she doesn’t kill you," snorted the other man.

"Oh," Kamin said, making room for the other rider to move up. "This is my brother, Jafrin. He’s the amateur mage of the group."

"I’m a member of the Mercenaries Guild," Jafrin defended.

"But not of the Magi," Kamin said.

"He thinks anyone not part of the Magi is an amateur," Jafrin explained.

"Ah," Alyssa said, looking at the brother. Jafrin was a little shorter than Kamin, but he managed to look decent, even in his ugly clothes. His hair wasn’t disheveled, and he was shaved, which probably made some difference. And his eyes were startlingly blue, whereas Kamin’s were brown. "Are you the one who locked my boxes?"

"What?"

"Galnor said my gold boxes were magically locked."

"Oh, yes, that was me," Jafrin said.

"How do you make it so I’m the only one who can open them?"

"Galnor gave me a lock of your hair."

Alyssa’s eyebrows drew together angrily. "What was he...Kamin, I want you to tell me the whole story, please."

Kamin chuckled as they arrived at the head of the wagon train. He slowed his horse to a walk. Jafrin rode up to Alyssa’s other side.

"Well," Kamin reached into his saddlebag and produced a pipe. He stuffed some brown weed into it and held it toward Alyssa. Or toward Jafrin, on her right.

"What?" Alyssa said.

"Oh, sorry," Kamin apologized. "I was waiting for my brother to pay attention to my existence."

"Gods, what a lazy bastard," Jafrin said. He waved his hand and a small flame spouted from the pipe.

"Thank you," Kamin said, raising it to his lips. He took a puff and let streams of smoke flow from his nostrils. "As soon as you showed Galnor the credit authorization, he brought it to me and we went over the possibilities."

"Possibilities?" Alyssa’s forehead was growing tighter with every word.

"Don’t worry about a thing, Alyssa," Kamin said. "You haven’t lost any money. You’ve got everything that was in the account, except the hundred thousand used to overhead this operation."

"Then where did your profits come from?"

"The rest of the Black Harvest account."

Alyssa was silent.

"See, Galnor and I have been planning something like this for a while, but we never had the right opportunity. This was it."

"How do you know Galnor?"

"I used to work at Red Feather too."

"Gods," Alyssa rolled her eyes.

"Anyways, when you gave him the note, he had to figure out not only a way to withdraw your money safely, but a way to withdraw the rest of the account as well."

"Whoa, what are you talking about?"

"The 25% that you didn’t get, we got. Galnor got ten and I got five, Jafrin got something insignificant, and everything else was split among the ‘refugees’ behind us."

Alyssa looked at the nearest "refugee." He gave her a salute and then turned his attention to the road ahead of them. "So you cleaned out the entire Black Harvest account instead of just taking 75%."

"We saw no reason to leave Mallor anything."

"How did you know it was him?"

"A little investigative work on Galnor’s part. Wasn’t that hard to figure out. He’s probably the only one who could coordinate something on a mass scale like that. Except for me."

"You?"

"I coordinated the transportation of your money, didn’t I?"

"How hard could that be?" Alyssa retorted.

"You’re young still so you have a lot to learn."

"Oh, and you’re a wizened old man. You’re not much older than Galnor, are you?"

Kamin puffed on his pipe and shook his head. "Nope. I’m 26. Jafrin’s the young one. He’s 20."

Alyssa laughed. "And I thought I was the only young merchant in the world."

"You wish. This generation is smarter than the last, and we’re gonna change things."

Alyssa smiled. "I like the way you think."

"You should. I’m the smartest man in this troop."

"And so what made the transaction of my money so difficult?"

"Simply this: no account in the Bank of Althoria has this much money. They would instantly jump all over someone trying to take four million gold. We’ve rectified the error in their bank so that it looks like Rakin Larront’tel’s screwup. It just looks like he forgot to include this account in the main books, and our imposter is gonna get slammed for it. Of course, it won’t matter, because Rakin’s dead."

"How did he die?"

"The pill you gave him."

"So it did kill him!"

Kamin nodded. "Madelina didn’t have enough confidence in you so she just gave you that pill to give him."

Alyssa felt nauseated once she realized that same pill was in her mouth. "Why couldn’t she have given me a pill that removed his memory?"

"Because he would have woken up in the morning and we didn’t need that. Our imposter was there, and he’s the one who transferred us the money without batting an eye at the six zeroes after the four. If Rakin were alive, he wouldn’t have let us get away with it, even if you had erased his memory. See, in your haste to get the 75%, you overlooked the fact that three million gold is an exorbitant amount of money, and no one in their right mind would let that amount be withdrawn without ten layers of security first. That’s why we needed the imposter."

"So Madelina was in on this whole thing?"

"Yes."

"Here Alyssa," Jafrin said. When she had turned her attention to the mage, he said, "I’ll give you the whole thing, straight up, since Kamin keeps leaving things out.

"After you gave Galnor the credit paper, Galnor took it to my brother, and they worked out a plan to withdraw the entire bank account, keep 25% and give the rest to you. Kamin and Galnor worked their asses off all the next day hiring trustworthy mercenaries and people who would work with us on this. Kamin bought these ten wagons in good condition, made them look awful, then paid the people behind us to help you transport the gold up to Arangrad. We devised a way for you to get to Rakin secretly and authorize the transfer, because I know Madelina."

"You visit Arial’s Favor?"

"She’s a good friend."

"Uh-huh."

"We planned out beforehand everything that you would do; we knew your pill would kill Rakin and we had already hired someone to replace him the next day; we had people watching the bank from all over, and we had three men from the Thieves Guild waiting on the roof of the bank. They helped our imposter sneak inside, and they took Rakin’s body back to his house. Our imposter walked home, woke up early in the morning, went to the bank, and started business as usual. When Kamin, Galnor, me, and some others came in to withdraw money from the account, he helped us. Kamin had about two dozen hired guards and all ten wagons waiting for us outside. As soon as the wagons were filled, they started moving out of town. Galnor went home and woke you up and brought you here.

"Right now, I would probably say that the bank is in a uproar and people are searching for us. The blame will fall on Rakin, and-"

"You mean your imposter."

"Well, not really. Our imposter left the bank after he helped us get away with the money. They’ll get pissed at Rakin and guards will storm his house only to find his dead body on the bed. That’s where the investigation will stop, because Rakin can’t tell them anything, and he was skillful enough in his bookkeeping so that nobody can trace its origin or anything."

"So if I had tried to withdraw the money, even though I removed any way for him to frame me, what would’ve happened?"

"Who knows?" Kamin said. "But it wouldn’t have worked if you tried it."

"Gods," Alyssa shook her head. She pondered the past few days in a new light, and finally said, "Well thank you for all your help."

"No, thank you," Kamin replied. "You’ve made all of us rich men. It was an almost flawless plan you had worked out."

"Except that you had to spend a hundred thousand just to make it go."

"Except that, yeah."

Alyssa smiled. "Well, thanks."

"Don’t mention it."

The Minion came with the second most severe blizzard this winter. It was the worst winter any Althorians had seen. Most of those that had taken refuge in Althorien were huddled together in alleys, burning garbage for warmth, whispering of the impending war.

Fear carries many forms, but one constant throughout history is the fear of the unknown. This was the fear that permeated every stone in the city. Almost no one had seen the Minion; refugees had been pushed here by those further west, who in turn pushed more people toward Althorien, until the entire countryside had fled from an unseen army. There were tales of the Minion and ancient battles, but no one had ever seen the servants of Tir. They were being pursued by an enemy they had never seen, an unknown evil. Their fear of the unknown was probably the Minion’s greatest weapon.

Even when, during the second major blizzard of the winter, the Minion arrived, no one was able to see over the city walls. They were unable to see their enemy. Only the soldiers on the battlements could see the Minion.

If the refugees had been able to see those enemies who had pursued them for hundreds of miles through the frozen forests of western Althoria, they would have been no less terrified. Legion soldiers who watched the Minion’s approach from the east had to hold their fear inside.

The view from the eastern battlements of lower Althorien was the worst; for miles, all that could be seen was the smoking remnants of burned buildings and trees. Just beyond that, blanketing the landscape to the horizon, was the army of the Minion. They settled about a mile away from the battlements. Because of their distance, nothing could be seen of their true shape. They were just little black forms, milling about and setting up camp.

As the afternoon passed, the Minion’s activities ranged from setting camp to building war machines. At the end of the day, a group of Minion dragged a dozen human prisoners just outside of the catapult range and made a sport of stoning them to death.

Invisible, standing on the battlements of the middle level of Althorien, Alinor and Jonas watched. They remained silent until the stonings had finished, and Jonas finally said, "I’ve still never discovered what makes evil so enjoyable."

"Hope you never do. It’s not pleasant." Alinor put a finger to his temple and massaged it. "I have a headache. It seems like Tirn Aill is always in trouble and we always have to save it." His green irises turned to Jonas. "Do you know if Lia’s reached Tranoth yet?"

Jonas shrugged. "I haven’t checked in with her today. But she can do it on her own. She doesn’t need us looking over her shoulder."

"She always needs us looking over her shoulder."

"Oh fine." Jonas closed his eyes and reached out.

For a few moments there was silence, then Jonas’ gray eyes snapped open. "Oh fuck," he swore.

Lia’s boat stopped when its prow buried into the muddy bank. She grabbed her backpack and hopped onto the ground. Her feet sank a couple inches into the slime, then she slowly plodded to drier ground. When she turned back around, Bolthorn had dragged the boat onto shore and Borim and Aleya were walking through the mud toward her.

"How far does this ground stay dry?" Aleya asked when they reached her.

"All the way to Tranoth," Lia answered.

"That’s funny," Aleya murmured.

"Why?"

Bolthorn joined them and they started walking south.

"Because in my vision it was chest-deep the whole time."

"What vision?"

"Oh, uh, when I was with Garen."

"Why didn’t you tell us?" Borim said.

"It’s irrelevant, now," Aleya answered.

"Somehow I doubt it," Lia replied. "What happened in the vision?"

"Well there were two of them, really."

"Gods," Borim rolled his eyes.

Aleya smacked his shoulder.

"Out with it," Bolthorn said.

Aleya told of the visions she had seen in Kra’s temple, and when she had finished, Borim said, "Who is Manjinar?"

Lia gritted her teeth. "Maybe you should fight Manjinar; that way. . .oh shit, nevermind. Just loosen up, will you? By this time tomorrow, Aleya will be the one protecting you."

"But-"

Lia silenced him with a glare. "The reason it was chest-deep in your vision is because you came from the south. Stupidly...I don’t know why Garen would create a portal that far south if-"

"There was less of an aura down that way," Garen replied.

Lia’s head snapped up. Garen was standing about twenty yards in front of them.

"The magical interference was too great from so far north, and I wanted to get there as soon as possible. At least, that’s my guess. It never happened so we’ll never know." Garen smiled.

Rage welled up in Lia. How had he been able to come after her without being detected? "Get behind me guys," Lia dropped her backpack on the dirt and stepped forward. "I’m glad you’ve decided to face us," Lia answered. "You know that you have no chance to defeat me."

"True." Garen gestured with his hand. Behind him, two Morreks arose from the ground. Morreks were demons ten to fifteen feet tall; they were the infantry recruited from Gehenna, whenever Tir went to serious war. Like most demons, Morreks had horns protruding from their skull, but they also had horns on their elbows. Their hands were massive, with thick fingers and sharpened claws. Muscles bulged beneath the leathery skin, giving the impression that they could tear apart a mountain. Their eyes glowed blood red, and fangs jutted from their mouths. Lia heard that they had an appetite for angels.

"I’m more than a match for all three of you," Lia sneered. "Don’t make me laugh."

"Fortunately," Garen said, "I have accounted for your presence. Relying on your group’s predictability, from our last confrontation, I anticipated that you would be taken out of the battle before it even began."

More than intuition told Lia that something was very wrong. She spun around and watched as Borim and Bolthorn both drew their swords. In slow motion, it seemed, fire streamed down Bolthorn’s sword.

Her breath caught.

Lia’s mouth opened as Krenash’s purple radiance illuminated her sapphire eyes.

END OF SHADOWS OF RAGNAROK 01

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©1997 by Bill Smith (micro@oz.net)

 

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