Another who begged no boon faced rougher treatment. Captain Ault refused the Wolf Lord entirely, had cursed him and wished him death.

Raj Ahten had heard the reviling with patience and a smile, but afterward, the woman in crimson had taken the captain's hand, tenderly. Then her eyes flashed in laughter as the captain burst into flames from toe to head and just stood, screaming and writhing as the fires consumed his flesh, melted his armor. The room had echoed with his shrieks. The odor of charred flesh and hair clung to the walls of the room even now.

Ault's blackened corpse was placed downstairs at the entry to the King's Keep.

So humbly now the people of Castle Sylvarresta came to stand before their new lord and give obeisance. Raj Ahten spoke calmly to them, his face shining like the sun, his voice as unperturbable as the sea.

All night long, Raj Ahten's troops had been marshaling the richest of the local merchants into the keep, seeking tributes of gold and endowments. The people gave to him whatever he asked, would give all that they had.

Thus, Raj Ahten had finally heard the name of the young man who had killed his giants, his outriders, and mastiffs on his errand to warn King Sylvarresta of the impending invasion. Even now, Raj Ahten's trackers scoured the Dunnwood, searching for young Prince Orden.

King Sylvarresta sat on the floor at Raj Ahten's feet. His neck had been tied to the foot of the throne, and King Sylvarresta, with all the naivete of a kitten, kept pulling at the rope, trying to chew it in half. The idea of untying himself did not occur to the King. Iome watched her father at Raj Ahten's feet, and even to her, Raj Ahten seemed great. His glamour so affected her that somehow she felt it fitting that her father should be there. Other kings kept dogs or great cats at their feet as pets. But Raj Ahten was more than a common leader. He deserved to have kings at his feet.

At Raj Ahten's side stood his personal guard, two counselors, and the fifth of his flameweavers, a woman whose very presence made Iome tremble, for she could sense the flameweaver's power. She wore a midnight-blue robe, loosely tied over her naked body. And she stood now before a silver brazier, like a large platter on a pedestal, on which she had placed twigs and knots of fiery wood. The green flames rose some three or four feet above the brazier.

Once that night, the woman had looked up from her brazier, her eyes shining with fierce delight, and said to Raj Ahten, "Good news, O Shining One, your assassins seem to have slaughtered King Gareth Arrooley of Internook. His light no longer shines in the earth."

On hearing this, Iome felt awed. So Raj Ahten was attacking more than one king of the North. She wondered at the depth of his plans. Perhaps we are all fools compared with him, she thought, as ignorant as my father tied at Raj Ahten's feet.

Now Raj Ahten gazed down at Binnesman in the light thrown from the pyromancer's brazier, and thoughtfully scratched at his beard.

"What is your name?" Raj Ahten asked the wizard.

Binnesman looked up, "My name is Binnesman."

"Ah, Binnesman. I know your work well. I've read your herbals." Raj Ahten smiled at him, patiently, glanced up at the pyromancer. "You bring him in chains? I would not have it so. He seems harmless."

The flameweaver beside the Wolf Lord gazed at Binnesman as if in a trance, eyes unfocused, staring past him, as if she sought to work up the nerve to kill him.

"Harmless enough, Your Lordship," Binnesman answered in a strong voice. Though he still crouched on all fours, he watched the Wolf Lord casually.

"You may rise," Raj Ahten said.

Binnesman nodded, struggled to his feet, though his chains kept him bowed so he could not raise his neck. Now Iome could see more clearly that he wore manacles at his feet, that his hands were cuffed, and that a short, heavy iron chain led from manacles to cuffs to neck. Though Binnesman could not stand upright, the bowed stance did not bother him. He'd hunched64 over plants for so many years, his back had become stooped.

"Beware of him, my lord," the pyromancer at Raj Ahten's side whispered. "He has great power."

"Hardly," Binnesman chided. "You've destroyed my garden, the work of master gardeners for over five hundred years. The herbs and spices I'd have harvested are all lost. You are known as a pragmatic man, Raj Ahten. Surely you know these were things of no small benefit!"

Raj Ahten smiled somewhat playfully. "I'm sorry my sorcerers destroyed your garden. But we haven't destroyed you, have we? You can grow another garden. I have some fine gardens, near my villas and palaces in the South. Trees from the far corners of the world, rich soil, plentiful water."

Binnesman shook his head. "Never. I can never have another garden like the one you burned. It was my heart. You see..." He clutched at his robes.

Raj Ahten leaned forward. "I'm sorry. It was necessary to clip your wings, Earth Warden." He spoke this title with solemnity, with more respect than he'd shown anyone else this night. "And yet, Master Binnesman, I truly did not want to harm you.

There are few notable Earth Wardens in the world, and I've tested the efficacy of the herbs that each of your kind grows, studied the ointments and infusions you provide. You, Binnesman, are the master of your craft, of that I am sure. You deserve greater honor than you have been accorded. You should be serving as hearthmaster in the Room of Earth Powers in the House of Understanding--not that fraud Hoewell."

Iome marveled. Even in far Indhopal, Raj Ahten knew of Binnesman's work. The Wolf Lord seemed almost omniscient to her.

Binnesman watched him from beneath bushy brows. The wrinkled lines of Binnesman's face were wise, and after years of smiling, made him look kind and soft. But there was no kindness behind his eyes. Iome had seen him smash bugs in his garden with that calculating gaze. "The honors of men do not interest me."

"Then what does interest you?" Raj Ahten asked. When Binnesman did not answer, he said softly, "Will you serve me?"

The tone of voice, the subtle inflections, were all such that many another man would have prostrated themselves.

"I serve no king," Binnesman answered.

"You served Sylvarresta," Raj Ahten gently reminded him, "just as he serves me now!"

"Sylvarresta was my friend, never my master."

"You served his people. You served him as a friend."

"I serve the earth, and all people on it, Lord Raj."

"Then will you give yourself to me?"

Binnesman gave him a scolding look, as if Raj Ahten were a child caught doing wrong when he knew better. "Do you desire my service as a man, or as a wizard?"

"As a wizard."

"Then, alas, Lord Raj, I cannot take a vow to serve you, for it would diminish my powers."

"How so?" Raj Ahten asked.

"I've vowed to serve the earth, and no other," Binnesman said. "I serve the trees in their hour of need, as well as the fox and the hare. I serve men with no greater and no less devotion than I serve other creatures. But if I break my vow to serve the earth, if I seek instead to serve you, my powers would perish.

"You have many men who will serve you, or who will serve themselves in your interest, Raj Ahten. Content yourself with them."

Iome wondered at Binnesman's words. He lied now, she knew. He did serve men more than animals. He'd once told her it was his weakness, this peculiar devotion to mankind. In his eyes, it made him unworthy of his master. Iome feared that Raj Ahten would see through the lies, punish Binnesman.

The Wolf Lord's beautiful face was untroubled, and it seemed to Iome to be full of kindness.

Binnesman said softly to Raj Ahten, "You understand, as a Runelord, you must care for your Dedicates, or else in time they would starve or sicken. If they died, you would lose the powers you draw from them."

"The same principles apply to me...or to your flameweavers. See how they feed the fire, knowing they will gain strength from it in return?"

"Milord," the flameweaver at Raj Ahten's side whispered, "let me kill him. The flames show that he is a danger. He helped Prince Orden escape from his garden. He supports your enemies. The light within him is against you."

Raj Ahten touched the flameweaver's hand, calming her, asking, "Is it so? Did you help the Prince escape?"

Don't answer him, Iome wanted to shout. Don't answer.

But Binnesman merely shrugged. "He had a wound. I tended it, as I would if he were a rabbit or a crow. Then I pointed his way into the Dunnwood, so he could hide."

"Because?" Raj Ahten asked.

"Because your soldiers want him dead," the herbalist answered. "I serve life. Your life, your enemy's life. I serve life, as surely as you serve death."

"I do not serve death. I serve mankind," Raj Ahten said calmly. His eyes hardly narrowed, but his face suddenly seemed harder, more passionless.

"Fire consumes," Binnesman said. "Certainly, when you surround yourself with so many flameweavers, you too must feel their tug, their desire to consume. It has you in its sway."

Raj Ahten casually leaned back on the throne. "Fire also enlightens and reveals," he said. "It warms us in the cold night. In the right hands, it can be a tool for good, even for healing. The Bright Ones and the Glories are creatures of the flame. Life comes from fire, as well as from the earth."

"Yes, it can be a tool for good. But not now. Not in the age to come. Certainly no beings of the greater light will come do your bidding," Binnesman said. "I think that you would do better to rid yourself of these...forces." He waved casually at the flameweavers. "Other wizards would serve you better."65 "So you will serve me?" Raj Ahten asked. "You will supply my armies with your herbs and ointments?" He smiled, and that smile seemed to light the room. Certainly Binnesman will help him, Iome thought.

"Herbs for the sick and the wounded?" Binnesman asked. "I can do this in good conscience. But I do not serve you."

Raj Ahten nodded, clearly disappointed. Binnesman's devotion would have been a great boon.

"Milord," the flameweaver hissed, glancing from brazier to Raj Ahten, "he is not truthful. He does serve a king! I see a man in my flames, a faceless man with a crown! A king is coming, a king who can destroy you!"

Raj Ahten studied the herbalist, leaning even closer in his chair, the green flames from the brazier licking the side of his face.

"My pyromancer sees a vision in the flames," he whispered. "Tell me, Binnesman, has the earth granted you such visions? Is there a king who can destroy me?"

Binnesman stood straighter, folded his arms. His fists were clenched. "I am no friend of the Time Lords, to know the future.

I don't gaze into polished stones. But you have made many enemies."

"But is there a king whom you serve?"

Binnesman stood for a long moment, deep in thought, his brows furrowed, Iome almost believed that the old herbalist would not answer, but then he began to mutter, "Wood and stone, wood and stone, these are but my flesh and bone. Metal, blood, wood and stone, these I own, these I own."

"What?" Raj Ahten asked, though surely he could not have failed to hear the old man.

"I serve no man. But, Your Lordship, a king is coming, a king of whom the earth approves. Fourteen days ago, he set foot in Heredon. I know this only because I heard the stones whisper it in the night, as I slept in the fields. A voice called to me, plain as a lark, The new King of the Earth is coming. He is in the land.' "

"Kill him!" the flameweavers all began shouting at this revelation. "He serves your enemy."

Raj Ahten tried to silence their yammering with an upraised hand, and asked, "Who is this Earth King?" His eyes blazed.

The flameweavers kept calling for Binnesman's death; Iome feared that Raj Ahten would grant their boon. The light in their eyes increased, and the woman at the brazier raised her fist, let it burst into flame. In a moment, Raj Ahten's desires would not matter. The flameweavers would kill Binnesman.

In an effort to save the herbalist, Iome shouted, "It's Orden. King Orden crossed our border two weeks ago!"

At that very moment, the chains holding Binnesman dropped away, both hand and foot, and Binnesman unclenched his fists, tossed something into the air-- Yellow flower petals, withered roots, and dry leaves that fluttered in the green light.

The flameweavers shrieked in dismay and fell back, as if blasted by the weight of the flowers.

The brazier snuffed out. Indeed, all the lanterns in the audience chamber winked out at once, so that the only light in the room was early-morning starlight, shining in from the oriels.

When her eyes adjusted, Iome looked around, mystified. The flame-weavers had all fallen backward from Binnesman as if struck by lightning. They lay stunned, gazing without seeing, whimpering in pain.

The room had suddenly filled with a clean, pungent scent, as if a wind had carried with it the air of a distant meadow.

Binnesman stood tall and straight, glaring at Raj Ahten from under bushy brows. The cuffs and manacles he'd worn now lay at his feet, still firmly locked. It was as if his limbs had merely melted through them.

Though flameweavers lay dazed and wounded at Binnesman's feet, Iome had felt nothing during the attack. A flower had touched her face, then dropped to the floor, nothing more.

Raj Ahten stared at the herbalist, slightly annoyed, gripped the arms of the throne. "What have you done?" Raj Ahten asked softly, evenly, in the starlight.

"I will not suffer your flameweavers to kill me," Binnesman said. "I've diminished them for a moment, nothing more. Now, you will excuse me, Your Lordship. I've much work to do. You wanted herbs for your armies?" Binnesman turned to leave.

"Is it true that you back King Orden? Will you fight beside him?"

Binnesman gave the Wolf Lord a sidelong glance, shook his head as if appalled. "I do not wish to fight you," Binnesman intoned softly. "I have never taken a man's life. You are asleep to the powers of the earth, Raj Ahten. The great tree of life arches over you, and the leaves of it whisper to you, but you do not hear them rustle. Instead, you merely sleep among its roots, dreaming of conquest.

"Turn your thoughts to preservation. Your people need you. I have great hope for you, Raj Ahten. I would call you friend."

Raj Ahten studied the old wizard a moment. "What would it take for you and I to become friends?"

Binnesman said, "Swear an oath to the earth, that you will not harm it. Swear that you will seek to preserve a seed of humanity in the dark season to come."

"And what do you mean by these oaths?" Raj Ahten asked.

"Divest yourself of the flameweavers who desire to consume the earth. Value life--all life, plant and animal. Eat from plants without destroying them, harvest only the animals you need. Waste no creature, either animal or man. Turn your armies back from this war you have initiated. There are reavers on your southern borders. Your struggle should be with them."

For a long time, Raj Ahten sat on the throne, simply staring at Binnesman. During that moment, a servant rushed in with a fresh lantern from the anteroom, so that it illuminated the Wolf Lord's face. He appeared thoughtful.

Iome could see the longing in Raj Ahten's eyes, and almost she believed he would take the oath.

But as the servant drew near with the lantern, it seemed to Iome that Raj Ahten's resolve flickered like the tongues of the fire. "I swear, to protect mankind from the reavers--for their own good," Raj Ahten said. "I...do only what I know I must--"

"You do nothing of the sort!" Binnesman shouted. "Listen to you: You've taken so many endowments of Voice that when you talk, you convince yourself of your own mad arguments. You are deluded!"

Iome's heart pounded, for she suddenly realized that Binnesman was right. Raj Ahten was swayed by the sound of his own mad Voice. It had never occurred to her that such a thing might happen.

Binnesman shouted, "Yet--there is time to change your mind--barely! Divest yourself of these mad notions. Don't dare rob these people and call yourself good!"66 He turned and ambled from the room, looking every bit the bent old man. Yet he walked without fear, as if, Iome thought, he had conducted the interview, as if he had dragged Raj Ahten to this room in chains.

Then he was gone.

Iome watched in astonishment, for no one else that night had merely chosen to leave Raj Ahten's presence. Iome feared that Raj Ahten might try to imprison the old man, or drag him back and bully him into service.

But the Wolf Lord remained thoughtful, watched the dark corridor through which Binnesman had exited.

Moments later, as the flameweavers began to regain consciousness, a guard hurried to the King's chamber to announce that the herbalist had just been spotted outside the city gates, hobbling across the fields to the Dunnwood. "Our bowmen on the wall could have shot him," the guard said, "but we did not know your will in this matter. The nomen are camped in the fields, but none detained him. Shall I send scouts to fetch him back?"

Raj Ahten frowned. It seemed far too short a time for a man to have left these halls and escaped the castle. And it was equally as bizarre that none of Raj Ahten's highly trained soldiers had stopped the old man.

"Did he reach the edge of the forest?" Raj Ahten asked.

"Aye, milord."

"What is he planning?" Raj Ahten wondered aloud. He stood swiftly, pondering. Then added, "Send a party of hunters to find him--if they can."

But Iome knew it was too late. Binnesman had gained the woods, the Dunnwood, the ancient forest, a focus for the earth powers. Even Raj Ahten's most accomplished hunters could not track an Earth Warden through the Dunnwood.