"It is not as bad as it looks, Huma. Taste some." Feeling like a child, he gingerly opened his mouth. It was true, he discovered; the paste tasted better than he'd imagined. He forced himself to continue eating, more because he did not want to look foolish in her eyes than because of any desire for such food. Huma was quite pleased when the last of the stuff was gone.

Gwyneth also seemed pleased as she put the bowl away. "I'm sorry to leave you, but I do have other tasks. I'll look in on you from time to time, I promise that." He reached out a hand to her. 'Thank you again." She hesitated, and Huma dropped the hand out of embarrassment. They were saved any further awkwardness by Rennard's appearance at the tent opening, Gwyneth gathered her things and whisked out of the tent. Huma's eyes watched her leave, then focused on the knight.

"The minotaur said you were awake and recuperating. I was pleased to hear that." The flat level of Rennard's voice made it sound as if he were reading off a supply list, but Huma believed his words. Like Gwyneth, he knew that there was something behind Rennard's perpetual mask of indifference.

Rennard's visor was up. Huma had no trouble now staring into the face that so many turned away from. Rennard's presence here was important. Few other knights cared enough about Huma to visit him.

Rennard kneeled next to him. "Keep your guard up at all times, Huma. It is your one failing."

'That and being struck on the head."

The thin lips pursed into a slight smile for only a moment. "Yes. You must put a stop to that as well. It could prove detrimental."

Had he not know better, Huma would have taken the statement as serious. "What goes on? Gwyneth-?"

"The young woman?" Huma reddened.

"Yes-she said that we were back at a stalemate once more."

Rennard sighed and reached up to remove his helmet. The act revealed frost-colored hair plastered to his head. Rennard was one of the few knights who chose not to sport the long, thick mustaches but rather to go clean-shaven; he was also one of the few who kept his hair cut short well above his collar. No one questioned these decisions; Rennard was Rennard.

"For the moment, that appears to be where things are. Bennett claims this is a sign that victory is ours. He repeats over and over that the big push by Crynus has crumbled. No one has seen or heard of Crynus since your brief battle with him. Bennett has even gone so far as to praise you in his own fashion."

"Praise me?"

"I quote: Thanks in part to that one's astounding luck, the warlord Crynus may be dead or at least incapacitated.' "

Huma turned away. Bennett was right, though. He had been lucky. A true knight would have made better use of the opportunity and assured himself of the warlord's destruction.

"I know what you're thinking, Huma. Stop it. You are every part the knight that Bennett and his lapdogs are. More so. You've not lost sight of the true world." Rennard lapsed into an uneasy silence as Huma turned back to him.

"How long before they release me?"

"When you're ready, no sooner. There'll be more than enough waiting for you when you're fit."

"Lord Oswal-does he have anything to say?" Huma felt a tremor of fear. The elder knight was like the father Huma had never known.

Rennard stood up and replaced the helmet on his head. He nodded. "The High Warrior wishes you the best and speediest of recoveries. He says he still has the utmost faith in your abilities."

Which was the High Warrior's way of stating how proud he still was of Huma. It was a rare boost for the young knight's confidence.

"Rest well, Huma. I will attempt to see you when next I'm free."

Rennard departed, leaving Huma to his own thoughts. He wondered whether he would ever truly be a knight such as Bennett, Lord Oswal, or Rennard. He thought of the evil warlord Crynus and wondered if that dark figure would bother to seek personal vengeance on an insignificant person such as Huma.

Something padded softly by the tent where Huma lay. Not a horse, more like a hound. A slight stench wafted to his nostrils. He heard something scrape against the wall, as if to test its strength. The light of the gray day allowed Huma only the vaguest glimpse of something.

A cleric of Mishakal entered the tent to check on the conditions of the wounded. The form on the other side of the wall scurried away, nearly silent despite its sudden movements. The odor quickly dissipated.

"Cleric?"

The mere presence of the elderly cleric soothed Huma. The cleric was short and slightly rounded. There could have been no more than two dozen hairs on his entire head.

"I am Broderin, May I be of assistance to you?"

Huma thought carefully before speaking. "Are - are there any wolves near the camp? Wolves or large dogs?"

Broderin stiffened as if he expected some great beast to come lunging through the tent flaps. Then he regained his composure. "Wolves? Dogs? There may be a few of the latter, but not anywhere near here. As for wolves . . ." The cleric chuckled nervously. "A wolf among the ranks of Paladine's knights? I think not. There are no wolves save those on the other side of the field, my son. Regrettably, most of them are of the intelligent kind. Why do you ask?"

"I thought I saw one."

This sent the old man into another fit of anxiety. Though this voice was more or less steady, his eyes darted hither and yon, as if seeing wolves everywhere. "You must be mistaken, my son, or perhaps you are suffering delusions due to your wounds. Yes, that must be it."

"Are you positive?" It had seemed very real.

"I will have someone take a look around. Perhaps a stray hound escaped from somewhere. It is always possible." The cleric turned to one of the other wounded, indicating that the conversation was at an end as far as he was concerned. Huma watched him momentarily and then closed his eyes.

His sleep was, thankfully, restful and uninterrupted save for one brief dream in which something pale stalked him through an endless forest. The stalker was always just out of sight and just behind him.

As with most dreams and nightmares, he did not remember it upon waking.

Chapter 6.

Huma stepped outside the tent to view the camp for the first time. He did not know his exact location, but he could see that command had moved once again, nearer the border, apparently. This close to Ergoth, the land was dotted more regularly with trees-healthy ones. For reasons that could only be guessed at, the ogres had been more careful about avoiding the destruction of the landscape nearer the mountains. It could hardly have been due to the beauty of the land; as far as anyone knew, the ogres were not the most appreciative of races when it came to beauty. In some areas there was actual forest-tall, ageless trees that perhaps remembered quieter times, perhaps had even seen the first elves.

Huma estimated that two to three hundred knights were encamped in the general area. The men stationed here were a mixture, consisting of the personal guard of Lord Oswal, wounded knights in various stages of recovery, a few outriders who were assisting the knighthood with their knowledge of the region, and even a few mages to add to the clerics. The mages and clerics remained as far apart as possible. Mages distrusted most clerics as religious zealots, while the clerics, albeit more tolerant, still did not trust the independent ways of the magic-users, who concentrated more on power than on belief in the gods.

No one really trusted the mages. That was why they were not allowed to carry arms. That left them vulnerable in at least one way.

"How are you feeling today?"

Huma's face lit up briefly, but he quickly masked it with an expression of brave seriousness. Gwyneth, a bucket in one hand, came over to him. Despite his best attempts, Huma could not help smiling.

"I am sick and tired of that tent and more than happy to see the world, even if it is just the camp."

She laughed gaily, then suddenly became serious. "Will you be going soon?"

He nodded gravely. Rennard had been to see him several times. Huma knew he was checking up on the young knight for Lord Oswal. If Huma hoped to keep his self-respect before the High Warrior, he would have to assure his readiness as soon as possible.

The wind picked up and blew some of the long, thick locks into Gwyneth's face. She brushed back the hair and appeared to be about to say something when a familiar, hulking figure came into view, escorted by two Knights of the Sword.

"Huma!"

Kaz came up and attempted to greet his one true human friend with a hug that would have sent Huma back to the tent with three or four broken ribs. Huma succeeded in sidestepping the minotaur and, therefore, ended up with only a bruised shoulder where Kaz slapped him in pleasure. It had been four days since Huma had laid eyes on Kaz. As Lord Oswal's trust in the minotaur increased, the latter's counsel was becoming more and more important. The knighthood had been battling the ogres for years but knew very little about them. Kaz, raised under the oppression of his cousins, knew all too well.

"Gwyneth," Huma said, remembering the woman, but turned toward her too late. She had vanished.

The minotaur was more perceptive than his appearance would indicate. "Have I come at an inopportune time? You have my apologies, if I have intruded."

Huma waved off the apology. "I should apologize to you. It is good to see you, Kaz."

"I had no idea that your kind could ask so many questions-and over and over! I have been drained of all knowledge, yet still they press for more."

'They're desperate, Kaz. We want to break-" Huma cut off as a tall figure, clad in crimson robes and cowl, made his way past them with no acknowledgment whatsoever. The face was narrow and bony, and the man reminded Huma of a fearsome instructor he had once had during his early days as a squire.

The minotaur's eyes followed the red-robed figure. "The mages are extremely nervous. I can smell their fear. It sickens me on occasion."

Huma found he had to favor his left side a little. He was not yet fully recovered. "What frightens them?"

"The unknown. They are quite accustomed to dealing with their black-robed counterparts, but it is rumored that Galan Dracos has unleashed his fellow renegades. You saw part of the magical battle?"

"Who could not? It fairly covered the heavens."

"There were a dozen powerful mages on our side when we entered. Four of those died, and another may never regain full use of his mind and body. Do you know how many opposed them?"

"How many?"

"Three."

"Three?" The knight shook his head. 'They must have been powerful, but how do the mages know they were not black-robed sorcerers?"

Kaz smile knowingly. 'Two were Black Robes, so they say. The survivor, who escaped, was not. His powers were too wild and unpredictable for one brought up under the tutelage of the three orders. A renegade. More than that, they would not say."

Huma could not help but think of Magius, whose tall body and handsome features would have been more at home in a royal court then in the dank, secluded towers of the spellcasters. Even up to the time of his Test of Sorcery, Huma's childhood companion had been a maverick. His skills were such that he had long before surpassed his instructors. Magius always had been one to experiment, even when his life was put into danger. But at times, he had talked of abandoning his schooling.

Kaz was summoned once again and, with a groan, he bid his farewell. Huma returned to the tent and slept for the better part of the day. Rennard stopped by to inform Huma that fully recovered or not, the younger knight was to be ready for guard duty within the next day or so. Huma might have complained, but he was more than happy to be given another chance to prove himself.

Gwyneth also stopped by, but the conversation was short and served little purpose. She seemed to want to say something, but whatever it was, was unspoken. He did not see her again during his recovery.

On the day that Huma was to receive his first duties since being nearly trampled to death, the camp became a flurry of activity. Columns of knights rode past the command center, a massive tent topped by a banner bearing the kingfisher symbol and guarded continuously by a contingent of Knights of the Rose. Here was where Lord Oswal and his officers planned their strategy. Huma could only guess at the reason for all the movement. Rumors abounded that the mountainous eastern border had fallen to the ogres and that the creatures were making their way toward Vingaard Keep. Another rumor warned that plague had struck one of the towns which the knights had been using as a waystation. Huma took the rumors for what they were-fearful wondering.

When Rennard approached, Huma was assisting the clerics, carrying hot and cold water for them and bringing them food. It was not much, but it helped. It also kept Huma's mind from straying to more unpleasant matters.

Huma stood erect when the other knight appeared. The act almost drenched Rennard with freshly boiled water as the buckets went swinging to and fro. The blank features twitched, but whatever emotion that indicated was lost on Huma.

"I see that you are more than fit enough to resume your duties as a knight," Rennard said gravely.

The hard work had made Huma sweat profusely, and moisture had accumulated around his brow. His face was grimy, and his clothing was stained. He did not dare speak, not knowing what he might say, so he merely nodded.

Rennard folded his arms. "You are captain of the guard tonight. Lord Oswal thinks you're ready for such responsibility." He looked up and down Huma's form without a change in expression.

It was already near dark. Huma swallowed. "May I be permitted to clean up and suit myself?"

"By all means. I've already assigned the watches. When you're ready, come see me." Rennard unfolded his arms and walked off. Salutes had always been unnecessary with him.

Besides, saluting was difficult with a bucket in each hand.

Huma had feared that some knights would resist his appointment as captain of the guard. Such was not the case. The guard consisted of knights who either were unfamiliar with their captain or were too new to have been influenced by Bennett and his associates. This was not to say they were green, untried knights; no squire who passed into the ranks of knighthood was untried.

A few veterans were mixed in for safety's sake, but these men were loyal to Lord Oswal and would judge men on merit, not on birth.

One such veteran snapped to attention as Huma passed. Huma felt uncomfortable at commanding men twice his age and ten times his experience, but he knew that every knight, save the commanding officers, was required to stand guard duty now and then. Nevertheless, Huma felt a tremor of nervousness as he took the report from the older sentry and breathed easily only when he was on his way to the next. It did not matter whether that man would be less experienced than the first; commanding was what frightened Huma. If something should go wrong, he would be to blame.

The perimeter of the camp took him to the edge of the forest region, and Huma eyed this area with some trepidation. Anything could be hiding out there, and it was not hard to imagine eyes and flitting, shadowy figures everywhere he looked.

It was not until after midnight that he came across the vacant position.

The slope of the land kept the position from view until he was almost on top of it. Huma stood there a moment, transfixed by the realization. He could have assigned someone else the task of checking on the sentries, but as his first command, he had wanted to do it himself. He should call out for assistance or run back to warn Lord Oswal and the others, but he knew that either option would take too much time and would alert whoever-or whatever-was out there.

Sword drawn, Huma stepped into the dark woods. By rights, he knew he might be bringing trouble down upon himself, but some mesmerizing presence within the forest seemed to draw him in. He could not see it, but he felt its power. Helpless, he plunged deeper into the woods, the urge a part of him now. He had forgotten his real reasons for daring to enter, save that someone or something that he was determined to locate lurked within.

A shadow padded alongside Huma, red but sightless eyes locked on his presence. Another shadow stalked the knight from his other side. Huma saw neither, heard neither-and would not have, even if all his faculties had been intact. It took great willpower to see the night beasts when they stalked the forests.

A flickering pattern of glittering lights danced before the entranced knight. Most of the gleams fluttered away at his approach, but two remained fixed, staring at him. Huma stumbled toward them, mindless of the still, armored form he had nearly tripped over. The gleaming orbs beckoned, and a dark shade seemed to materialize about them.

For the first time, a voice broke the silence. It was little more than a hiss, but it demanded all of Huma's attention.

"Brave knight. So secure with your little toys."

The form shifted to the side a little. Huma's eyes followed obediently. The shadowy figure seemed to examine its catch. "Could you be the one, I wonder?"

A leathery hand reached up to take hold of Huma's chin. His head was turned left and right, although the knight's eyes never left those of his captor. "Yessss. Dracos will be pleased-even the warlord will be pleased. It cannot be coincidence. He has had his hand in this to save his own neck." The eyes and hand traced a downward path to Huma's sword. 'There will be no need of this anymore."

A gleam far behind the shadowy figure suddenly pulled Huma's gaze away. His captor, caught up in the capture, failed to notice the odd light. Others, though, marked the action. There were gutteral growls, and the stench of death became strong.

The gaze of the creature returned quickly to the face of its captive.

Two pairs of eyes met. Huma's were no longer entranced.

The knight reacted instinctively. The sword was driven with a strength born of shock and fear. The physical form of the dark figure proved to give little resistance. Claws scratched wildly at Huma's face, but he ignored them, attempting to thrust his weapon as far as it would go. Suddenly, he met resistance, although the shadowy foe did not fall. The clawing finally stopped, however. The figure shuddered twice and was still.

Huma slumped to his knees, exhausted by the effort.

Things of the dark padded toward him for a moment, then hesitated, as if sensing something unexpected. Huma raised his head and caught a glimpse of something pale and vaguely wolflike in form. Then it was gone.

How long Huma stayed there, he did not know. Gradually, he came to notice the soft footfalls of someone walking in his direction. They were coming from the wrong direction-from deeper within the forest. Huma rose, albeit a little unsteadily. He had not recovered completely, he realized.

"Here, let me help you." The voice was strong, and the hands that held Huma were powerful. While the knight took a deep breath, the newcomer looked over the remains of the attacker, chuckled, and said, "Well done. You've pinned him to the tree trunk. An impressive display of strength and quite deserving where that one was concerned."