A night spent drinking did not a pleasant morning make. Rau silently rebuked himself for the previous evening's folly.

Rough terrain tortured his headache. Each bump felt like a knife to his skull. The brilliant sun overhead lanced through his sensitive eyes.

Though his linen shirt lay damp with sweat, he shivered in spite of his leather vest and heavy cloak. He almost considered calling an early camp. After last night's merriment, the men would be suffering as surely as he and would welcome a few extra hours rest. But his father's words whispered like ghosts in his ears. Kholer would not lie in wait for him to conquer. Gamaliel's taunts of a warrior-princess had followed him even into his dreams. Doubt took root in his mind.

So he rallied his army days earlier than he'd first intended. Hael couldn't run the risk of stragglers from Kanarek forewarning Kholer. Surprise was their ally. Sweeping out of the west, he'd level their fair city and add the casualties to the ranks of his army of cadavers.

After Kholer there was the Golar. Following Golar, the rest of the coast.

Once he held the coast neither the fabled Sword of Zal-Azaar, nor the lost Kanarekii heir would be able to wrest it from him.

He'd stamp his mark upon the entire landscape, blackening all that had been built there, obliterating all that stood against him.

His father would be forced to recognize Doan-Rau as his heir, instead of his younger brother, Tanin.

When the fires of his conquest had smoldered into ash, then he would rebuild, erect proud monuments to his name. By then the stragglers would be ready to bow to him. Those who didn't would soon find themselves among the legions of the dead.

Manpower was the least of his worries. His standard would be flown in every hamlet along the coast. One day perhaps even across the plains of Kor-Koraan.

A mad and brilliant scheme, Rau thought. The Amber offered an ingenious savings in labor and time. Shraal be praised, there was no longer any need to burn the battlefields. Merely round up the dead, induce the magic of locomotion using the Amber, then ride them out. Shraal sorcery would spur them on until the process of decomposition rendered them immobile. What remained would be left to rot in the midday sun, an offering to the vultures.

Shraal mysteries had haunted Rau's imagination since his youth. Evidence of Shraal blood weighed strong within him, plain for anyone with discerning eyes to see. Still, his father would deny him his heritage.

Precious little now remained of the proud kingdom that had stretched over most of the mapped territory. Shraal would have faded from memory completely had it not been for him. Rau fingered the amber clasp on his cloak. Despite his dark hair and rugged features, he had a Shraal's soul. He would raise the great kingdom of Bayorek from the ashes and rule as its king. Such was the dream he was shaping into reality.

Shouts broke into his reverie. Rau lurched to his senses. Soldiers, who should have been riding in tight formation behind him, now searched the rear for the source of the commotion. Sensing his sudden regard, they snapped to attention. Larz, he noted, had gone to investigate.

"Take the lead," he barked at the standard bearer, who nodded nervously and took Rau's spot. The last thing he needed on a morning such as this was trouble.

Further down the line of soldiers, he noticed a break in the ranks. Rau put the spurs to his horse. Dissension would not be tolerated. If the men needed extra incentive, that could certainly be arranged.

Soldiers scattered as he reined into their midst, anxious to fade back into anonymity within the ranks. In the center of the commotion, Larz held one of the men at the tip of his sword. But the look of repulsion on the Captain's face was directed at the ranks of the dead who milled behind them aimlessly, awaiting new orders. Rau swore.

Dismounting, he bore down on the hapless soldier like a bull intent on skewering his foe.

Larz whirled to face him, quickly smothering the look. "Your Highness?"

The Captain seemed genuinely embarrassed to see him. Though the young soldier looked up at him in utter terror, there was defiance in his eyes as well.

"What seems to be the problem, Captain?"Larz shifted his weight uneasily. "The problem has been dealt with, Sir. No need to trouble yourself."

Rau's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Before he could speak, the soldier shook himself from Larz's grasp. Dismayed, the Captain lunged after him, but Rau held up his hand.

"I refuse to ride with the likes of them!" With a wide sweep of his arm, the soldier indicated the army of cadavers.

Horrified by his man's insurrection, Larz reached out a hand to haul him back under his control. Rau stepped between them, his movement lithe as a panther. The Captain read the warning in Rau's stance and paled.

"Your Highness--"

"Silence, Captain. I believe the soldier has a complaint to register."

Falsely encouraged, the man continued. "The stench, Sir, it's too much to bear. The men have nightmares. No one should have to endure this!"

Rau smiled down at him. Larz shut his eyes and prayed.

"I take it you'd like a transfer," Rau said.

The soldier smiled back. "Yes, Sir!"

Amber flashed in the midday sun.

Much too late, the soldier saw the downward stroke of Rau's arm. He tried to bolt from the path of the amber missile headed for him. Rau reached out, seizing the soldier by the scruff of the neck. With one lighting strike, he drove the amber deep into his brain.

The soldier crumpled to the ground, the stake protruding from his eye like the horn of some twisted unicorn.

"A transfer you shall have," Rau snarled, wiping the blood from his hands.

He glowered up at the ring of soldiers standing in open-mouthed shock. "And so shall anyone else who wants one."

With covert glances of horror in Rau's direction, the army melded back into formation and went about its business.

Rau grasped Larz by the arm and pulled him after him. "Captain, if you please."

Larz swallowed hard. With a furtive glance in the direction of the fallen soldier, he swung up on his horse and followed Rau along the staggering line of the dead army.

# Could they not see the beauty in it? Rau wondered as he inspected the ranks of his cadavers with Larz at his side. Could they not fathom the cruel yet wonderful irony of the fallen, rising up to conquer their own cities and then condemning their neighbors to the same fate?

They had no vision. Not his father, not the council, not even his loyal friend, Larz, though he'd never admit to it. Rau had seen the look of terror and repulsion on the Captain's face. He sensed the hateful looks his men shot at his back. No matter. His demonstrations had their purpose. Others must understand the true glory of the amber.

His fingers stroked the jewel at his neck. For a moment memory sucked him back down into those dark winding caverns that led to the Amber's tomb...

The stench of sweat and fear had hung heavily in the narrow corridor. They hammered incessantly against the crystal barrier, sleeping in shifts. Three nights and four days passed. Men eyed each other nervously and wondered when they'd go mad in the confines of the narrow space.

Crystal shattered. The wall collapsed beneath them. Shoving men aside, Rau tumbled through the maw of jagged rock. He had to be the first to lay eyes upon the Amber. No one must touch it but he.

The entire cave vibrated with its own pure tone. He reached out a tentative hand.

All sound ceased. Even the soldiers around him paused in their breathing. For the first time since he'd embarked upon his quest, he'd doubted.

In its nest of crystal, the Amber waited. Rau crept closer, afraid for a moment to touch it lest he be struck dead.

Men formed a fence behind him. Nothing to do but go on. The air around him crackled as his fingers met its cool surface. In that moment, Doan-Rau, Prince of Hael thought he had won for himself the ancient throne of Bayorek. It was destined to be.

Still his father had not believed. His entourage of aged advisors scoffed even as he rode up to the gates, bearing his great prize.

They'd not believe him still, if old Wincott hadn't died.

Destiny again. Why else would the old counselor have perished on the eve of his return?

A demonstration, they demanded. A spectacle he swore they'd have.

With the whole of his father's counsel room waiting in hushed anticipation, Rau chipped off a sliver of Amber and slid it into Wincott's right eye.

At Rau's command, as his father's most trusted advisors watched in open-mouthed astonishment, Wincott's body rose stiffly from its pallet. Only one more spectacle was needed to secure their devotion.

The thing that had been Wincott waited blank faced for its orders. Rau motioned for Larz to hand the cadaver his sword.

Larz stared back at him in uncomprehending silence. Then, sure he hadn't misunderstood, the Captain drew his sword. With a last pleading look in Rau's direction, he handed the sword to Wincott. The corpse took it. Rau scanned the soldiers that lined the walls of the audience chamber.

"That man over there," he said indicating one with the tip of a black-gloved finger. "Kill him."

The soldier shrank back in horror. He would have bolted from the chamber, had Larz not restrained him.

On Rau's order, the cadaver advanced upon the hapless soldier, sword raised for the killing blow. In horrified fascination the soldier watched the cadaver move toward him.

It would have killed him, Rau thought with a smile. Not his intention, of course. He'd waited until the sword was a hair's breath from the soldier's breast, then called the order to halt.

Wincott froze. The soldier fainted. In that glorious moment, Rau won the support of his father's advisors.

Ah yes, Rau thought grimly. These demonstrations were indeed necessary.

So why was there a chill running between his shoulder blades in spite of the warmth of his cloak and the blazing sun? Why did an old man's superstitions haunt his dreams, piercing even his most drunken stupor?

Rau and Larz circled back, taking their places at the head of the army. The brief dissension now effectively subdued, the long line of soldiers and horses flowed easily across the landscape. Featureless flatlands gave way to the gentle swell of hills and lush vegetation. Rau was grateful for the occasional shade of trees after miles of scrubby brush.But though the terrain was easier going, the nagging sense of doubt would not allow him to relax. Fragments of his father's mocking words echoed in his mind. Could there really be some long-hidden Caryn heir even now plotting his demise?

"Fairy tales," Rau muttered with a cynical laugh.

If Kanarek had such a weapon, why had old Arais-Khun-Caryn not used it in the hour of his most desperate need? Last night's vision was nothing more than a drunken hallucination. The House of Caryn were noted for their dark hair and darker eyes. The blonde phantom was merely an embodiment of his drunken desire for female company, a symptom of the strain of a lengthy campaign.

The memory of those slate-gray eyes boring into his made him shudder. If destiny offered the warrior-princess as one last test, he would have to destroy her. Nothing would stand between Rau and his great legacy.

Rau jolted to his senses. Beside him, Larz waited patiently, as if for an answer.

"Captain?"

Larz cleared his throat. "I was asking, Sir, if we should not call a break once we've entered the forest."

Rau bit back the caustic reply on his lips, determined that if he must stoically suffer beneath the searing sun, so must the army. But the Captain's suggestion made sense. He was desperately in need of a moment's rest and some strong tea to revive him. "A half- hour's rest," he agreed. "Once we're within the shelter of the forest."

There was much to be said for having a camouflage of trees to conceal an army. No wonder the wars of Bayorek had been such a disaster. The exposed plains of Kor-Koraan left the Shraal armies without cover. Like trying to hide an army among so many grains of sand, Rau thought, congratulating himself on his superior strategy.

The Shraal, for all their greatness, had merely marched out upon the plains and slaughtered each other.

Shraal, he thought, blinking back another glimpse of the Kanarekii phantom who'd somehow taken root in his subconscious. She did so resemble temple drawings of the Shraal with her ghostly hair and light eyes. His intuition never led him astray. These persistent visions meant something.

Or were they merely the effects of too much drink? Rau shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind.

"Certainly you could use the rest yourself, Your Highness?" Larz inquired quietly. Only Larz would suggest such a thing. No one but Larz would dare.

"Indeed." Rau cast an inquiring gaze at his captain. "You seem to fare well enough for one who was up even later than I."

"I have fared better," Larz admitted. With a second glance Rau noted the shadows beneath the captain's eyes. Tiny lines creased the corners, wrinkles that hadn't been there before.

The Prince nodded. "I see. So this break you kindly suggested on the men's behalf was for your own benefit?"

"If Your Highness is at all merciful," Larz said, "you'll grant me a break before I slide from the saddle and humiliate us both."

Though the words were spoken lightly enough, exhaustion darkened his face. The day's events, it seemed, weighed heavily on Larz as well.

"Agreed then, a short rest and a pot of scalding tea. After that, Captain, I will have no mercy until sundown."

He watched as Larz made his way down the column to give the order. Ahead on the horizon the forest was a gray shadow.

Though he could appreciate the covering of trees as a tactical maneuver, Rau disliked the forest. The dark, damp interior made him claustrophobic. Manifestations of his growing paranoia waited to leap from under every branch. He much preferred the flat terrain on the outskirts of Hael, where anything within two days ride could be seen coming toward them.

You could lose an entire army among the twisted vegetation. From the corners of his eyes, he imagined he saw ghostly shapes prowling among the thick screen of trees. Or was it simply another vision of the silver-haired Shraal princess rumored to to be hidden in the deepest reaches of the forest.

Rau wrenched himself from morbid thoughts. There was nothing in the forest save for trees, rabbit and fox. Indeed, he could hide an army in its shadowy depths. Concealed by the forest, Kholer would never know what lay in store for them. His present mood was the result of too much drink and too little sleep. And a father who promised his throne to his younger son, forever withholding it from the son who did so much to win his affection.

In the end, his father would be happy enough to take the credit for Rau's victory.

Will you now, my father, he thought viciously. We shall see.

# They drew to a halt a mile within the shelter of the forest. Rau surrendered the reins to the soldier who appeared at his side.

Grateful for the shade, he settled down against one of the wide tree trunks. Larz already had the map spread upon the ground.

Together they plotted their passage for the rest of the afternoon.

Stores were broken open. On further contemplation Rau passed up the tea offered to him, deciding instead to medicate himself to sleep with the contents of his wineskin. He swallowed gingerly. It roiled about in his stomach but stayed down. He took a longer pull on the wineskin, then passed it to Larz who grimaced and vigorously shook his head.

A thick crust of bread sat better on his stomach. The heat, the wine and bread together conspired to make him sleepy. Beside him, Larz was already snoring softly.

Leaving his company to stand guard, Rau pulled his helmet down over his face, stretched out against the broad trunk, and surrendered to the sleep that had been threatening to drag him under all morning.

# He raced through halls of magenta crystal, breath searing his lungs. His heart hammered like a drum within his chest. Something pursued him in the labyrinthian tunnels. And though he couldn't name the terror that chased him, he knew that to cease running would mean certain death.

He dove into another corridor, only to discover it ended abruptly in a wall of jagged quartz. He skidded to a jarring stop, then fled back over his footsteps toward the main hall.

Just a few more feet, he told himself as he rounded the corner. A few more steps.

Blinded by the corner ahead, the flash of steel caught him off guard. He flailed about, desperately trying to halt his progress. His boots slid against floors of smooth quartz. The momentum carried him steadily forward into the path of that deadly blade.

Rau screamed. Horrible gurgling sounds echoed loudly in his head, then deteriorated quickly into silence.

At last he saw her, a streak of silver hair and steel eyes. "Riordan-Khun-Caryn," came the whisper in his mind. Shraal features hovered above him, beautiful and deadly. The crystal floor rushed up to meet him.

His body toppled over him, cutting off both sight and sound.