Chapter 25.

They left the next day in a long procession, wending down the hillside from Vernadam, Cyrus, the officers and the other guests he had brought following the Kingas court. King Longwell was carried down on a litter to a horse-drawn carriage below. Unlike other carriages Cyrus had seen, this one was massive, almost a full living quarters in and of itself. When they reached the bottom of the hill, Cyrus saw his troops assembled for the first time in a month, though he knew Odellan had taken them through regular exercises.

aThis looks like a fat and happy lot,a Terian said as they rode along the length of the column of Sanctuaryas army. aIad gather that thirty days of rest has been good to them.a A harlot in red exposed herself from a balcony above them, then gestured to Terian with a come-hither finger. aA little too good, maybe,a the dark elf said. aPerhaps I should ask around and see if our boys have been behaving themselves.a aI donat care what you do,a Cyrus said grimly, aso long as youare with us at Enrant Monge when we get there.a aMaybe you should come on this inspection tour with me,a Terian said, slowing his horse. aIt seems you have frustrations of your own to work out.a aIave worked out plenty of frustrations in the last month,a Cyrus said, tense. aIt seems to have left me with even more than when I started.a aPerhaps youare being too formal about things,a the dark knight suggested as Cyrus brought his horse to a halt, watching as the column began to get underway, marching slowly, in time, toward the west road out of the village. aYouare putting too much emphasis on feelings, and trust, and emotion and all these other ugly things that have no place in a bed.a Cyrus stared at the dark elf as Terian tied the reins of his destrier to the hitching post. aOccasionally, Terian, I find myself envying you for the simplistic approach you seem able to take to your emotions.a aDonat speak about things you know nothing about,a Terian said darkly. aI am merely suggesting that you might be attaching too much significance to something that need not be so desperately complicateda"or nearly so painful as you seem to be making it.a aAnd I was expressing my admiration for your ability to go unfettered by the messy entanglements that seem to be constantly drawing me down,a Cyrus said. aI was quite sincere in what I said.a aYou still donat know what youare talking about, Davidon,a Terian replied, voice cold. aThereas a difference between this and the people you care about.a aI wish there was, for me,a Cyrus said. aUnfortunately, thus far, there hasnat been. Perhaps in the future.a Terian smiled, a half one. aStay a while. With our horses, we can catch up to the army after we finish our business within. Start now. It gets easier every time you do it, just like battle, and your soul gets hardened to it after a while, and it becomes reflexive, as it should be. A glorious release, without that horrible, life-draining emotion you attach to it.a Cyrusas smile was fake, but he tried. aPerhaps some other time. After as long a break as weave had, I suspect our formation will need some practice, and I mean to be there to see it.a aAs you wish,a Terian said coolly. aBut you know full well that Longwell and Odellan can handle that better than you can. If you want to make excuses for yourself, find better ones. If you want to make yourself immune to such pains as you feel now, best get started. Either way, stop fooling yourself.a The dark knight turned and began to walk toward the door to the establishment, which was pushed open by a woman wearing a dress that exposed more supple, pink, flawless flesh than Cattrine possessed on her entire body. Cyrusas eyes were drawn to it, even as the woman wrapped an arm around Terianas waist, and let the door swing shut behind them.

Cyrus turned in his saddle to look down the column and caught sight of Cattrine toward the back of the formation with Ryin and Nyad, her horse shuffling along at a slow canter. His eyes took her in, her dark hair as well kempt as any time he had seen her, her riding clothes cleaned and in fine order. Her lips looked especially red, her scars well hidden now. She looked at the ground as she rode, despondent, though Nyad seemed to be chattering happily in her ear.

aThe Baroness has an ill humor about her,a Odellan said, startling Cyrus as he appeared next to Windrider on his own horse. aA cloud hangs over her, some grief unspoken, I think.a He looked at Cyrus in curiosity. aAs though Yartraak himself has settled darkness upon her heart.a Cyrus stared at Odellan, trying to decide what to say. He finally settled on, aKeep your eye on the formation. I want our march in perfect order, and after today I want weapons practice for every one of our fighters; weall be ready if battle comes our way.a After seeing Odellanas nod of acknowledgment, Cyrus spurred Windrider, who whinnied in anger at the rough treatment and took off at a run. aSorry,a Cyrus said to the horse after a moment. aIam sorry.a aIam sure the horse accepts your apology,a Martaina said, coming alongside Cyrus. aNow perhaps you should turn those words in a different directiona"a aPerhaps you should keep yours to yourself,a Cyrus snapped. aBecause as it happens, I recall about a month ago you told me that even with all your vast experience, you didnat know what you were doing in relationships.a aI can see youare blinded in your pain,a Martaina began slowly, after a pause, abut let me bring something forward in your mind. In spite of our similar ears,a she said, pushing her hair back behind the points of her ears, aIam not Vara. If youare looking for a sharp-tongued reply or an argument, look elsewhere. Iam a little too old to slap back at you just because you swing an emotional gauntlet or three my way.a aI only have two gauntlets,a Cyrus replied.

aThen that must be something else youare swinging around,a Martaina said, deadpan. aYou might want to put it back in your pants before someone loses an eyea"like you, yourself.a Cyrus bristled. aWhat are you trying to say? Be plain about it.a aIam suggesting that you might stop swinging around your aa she lowered her voice, aa pride, as though it were some sort of weapon to keep people at bay.a aMy aa Cyrus started to shout, but lowered his voice, aa pride a doesnat seem to get me in anything but trouble of late, as I follow its lead from one woman who stabs me in the front to another who lies to me.a aI donat think weare talking about your pride anymore a sir.a Martaina said. aWeare either talking about your groin or your heart, and you might want to differentiate. Because if itas your groin, it probably would have led you in the same direction as Terian went just now. If itas your heart, then you canat really fault it because you donat choose the direction it goes anymore than you could choose what direction you went in as an orphan, dropped off at the front door of the Society of Arms.a Cyrus felt the slap of her words, a surge of memory at the reminder of the first time he walked through the gates to the Societya"and the first time he left after that, running through them in the snow, as fast as his six year-old legs could carry him. He felt a blinding flash of anger and the desire to lash out again, to get Martaina away from hima"the sting from her knowing too much. The wall of ice dissolved and made cold fury in its stead. aYour counsel is not needed, ranger. And it occurs to me that your efforts at bodyguard havenat gone terribly well, either, considering not a month ago I got my brains dashed out by a dwarf with a hammer, and you did nothing to stop it. Be gonea"Iad have you go back to what you were doing before, taking care of the animals, joining scouting parties, anything else.a aAnd who will watch your back in these unpredictable lands?a Martaina asked, cool, but her words carrying the unmistakable hint of venom.

aIall watch my own, thank you very much,a he said. aI canat do a much worse job of it than you have.a He urged Windrider on, this time sparing the spurs. aWhy donat you try keeping an eye on Partus as we travel?a he asked. aI donat much care if he lives or dies, after all.a As he rode away, he heard her say something, low, almost lost under the sound of hoofbeats, but there nonetheless. aHow do you feel about you, yourself, dying?a Cyrus felt his eyes narrow at her words, and he leaned forward to ride faster. aI donat much care if I live or die right now, either.a

Chapter 26.

The journey to Enrant Monge took over three weeks, during which time Cyrus was once again as he had been during the first leg of their trip from Sanctuary. He took his meals alone, gave orders only when he had to, and ignored the few accolades directed his way from soldiers in his army until the word had circulated that the general had sunken once more into a black mood at which point the army went silent whenever he would ride by.

The officers also left him to his own devices, supping without him when they made camp for the day. Cyrus was frequently invited to dine with the King in his own tent. He declined every occasion, often sending one of the other officers in his stead, wordlessly handing off the parchment invitations that seemed to be delivered to him every day in the morning, at the noon hour and when evening came.

The only people who didnat give him a wide berth were Jaanda (who attempted a conversation composed of sheer surface-level pleasantries with him at least once per day), Curatio (who only disturbed him to discuss disciplinary matters or things of other import to the army approximately once a week), and Terian (who wandered by for conversation whenever he felt like it; Cyrus could discern no pattern to the dark knightas attempts).

The two people whom Cyrus actually wanted, in some deep place within him, to talk to said nothing to him. Both avoided him, going so far as to remain out of his sight whenever possible. Cattrine continued to ride with Nyad and Ryin, though he saw her speaking with almost all the officers at various points in time. She seemed to be trying to give him space, staying as far away from him as possible.

The other person he wanted to talk to had said nothing to him in a month; Aisling had taken to guarding Partus, who was forced to walk while tied to the back of a horse that cantered along. The dwarf looked somewhat ragged after the long journey. Though he was getting no more exercise than any of the other members of the Sanctuary army, he seemed worse the wear for it. He was ungagged only while the cessation spell was cast around him, he was never left unguarded, and his hands remained shackled at all times. The dwarf wore a perpetual scowl until such time as he became exhausted, which was almost always an hour or two into the walk for the day. Aisling seemed to be near him at all times, watching him through slitted eyes, a silent guardian. On the occasions when Cyrus had seen her, she had avoided any sort of eye contact, defying his prediction that when she heard about his falling out with the Baroness, that she would come directly to him. He tried not to read too much into it. Once burned, twice shy. When burned many times a well a I can identify with that.

Their path led them on a long, circuitous route, at first following the road that had led them to Vernadam. When they passed a massive lake, they turned north on a wide road; at the signpost Cyrus found he still couldnat read the Luukessian language, and worse, he found he did not care. North, south, east or west, they all seemed much the same to him. Weall settle this war, and then a he thought of Vara, and it still stung, like a dagger picking at an old wound. He thought of Cattrine, and the pain was fresh, like a sword biting at his innards. He pictured the wall of ice again, building it within him block by block and it seemed to soothe the ache, although it did not go away. I donat know what weall do then.

Cyrusas black misery did not seem to lessen as the days went by; if anything, time and isolation made it worse, like a festering wound. He went to sleep thinking of Vara and Cattrine, Cattrine and Vara, and he felt them trouble his dreams, the two of them, like predatory lionesses, circling him while wounded on a battlefield, each one striking in turn, taking a piece of him away until there was scarcely anything left.

Enrant Monge was on a plateau in the center of Luukessia. As they approached, the ground became hilly, the slope rising and falling as they navigated the hills. After a few days of this, it began to level, and Cyrus found himself looking upon the castle one evening as they were close to their end for the night.

aThe King told me when I supped with him earlier that weall leave the army nearby,a Jaanda said, stirring Cyrus from his silent reverie. aWhen we stop for the night, theyall encamp there for the time that the moot takes place. Heas asked you and no more than five other officers to come along when he and the rest of the court goes to the moot.a aFine,a Cyrus said, his voice scratchy from disuse. aYou, Longwell, Terian, and Curatio. Weall bring the Baroness as well, give her an opportunity to see her brother.a aI canat decide whether that will be a very good idea or a very bad one,a Jaanda said. aBut I suspect it will be one of the two.a aEither Tiernan will be happy to see her or he wonat,a Cyrus said. aIt doesnat much matter to me which it is.a aIt would not much matter to you if you were being slowly picked apart by vultures on a battlefield, I suspect, a Jaanda said, prompting Cyrus to send him a look of indifference. aThank you for proving my point, I think.a aImpressive,a Cyrus said without feeling. aYou sussed that out without even having to reach into my mind.a He laughed, a low, grim laugh that caused the enchanter to edge away almost nervously. aI wonder what youad see if you cast a mesmerization spell on me now. What do you think my heartas desire is at this moment?a aI aa Jaanda swallowed deeply, and Cyrus could hear the reluctance in his answer. aI donat think I would care to know, whatever it is. Your thoughts are not your own, theyare the blackest sort of darkness. You look at a bright summeras sky like weave had for the last three weeks and it looks bleak and grey to your eyes. You are covered in it; it swallows you whole, infects you in a way I have only seen happen to you once beforea"and this time, it may actually be worse. And since last time involved a death of someone dear to you, I would have thought that that would be impossible.a aWell, doesnat that just make you all kinds of wrong,a Cyrus said. aBefore I just mourned the loss of a friend. Now I get to watch my faith in others gradually disappear.a aI donat think itas others youare losing faith in,a Jaanda said. aI donat think itas that at all. I think youare starting to lose belief in yourself, that that is what is really eating at youa"your confidence is shaken because you feel betrayed. After all, how could this happen to you, twice in a row? You trusted them, you opened your heart to them, and they hurt you. You are wounded. You are licking those wounds. You may think itas your belief in others that is waning, but this is a problem of you, my friend. You are taking it too personally; these sort of things happen.a aWhat do you know?a Cyrus snapped. aI havenat seen you with a woman in three years.a aI wasnat talking about women,a Jaanda said coolly. aI was talking about you. Have you not seen me with you in the last three years? Because then I might be speaking of something I know not.a aListena"a aIam going to ride off now,a Jaanda said. aI am not upset with you, though I expect you are with me; I just imagine that youare running a bit low on people to talk to and I donat want to make it easy for you to drive another away. Weall speak again later.a With that, the enchanter rode off, leaving Cyrus staring at him in openmouthed irritation.

Within the hour, the army was beginning to set up camp in the shade of a forest in the hills. From atop one of them, Cyrus could see Enrant Monge in the distance and other armies, smaller ones, encamped to the north and the west, like the three points of a triangle.

Enrant Monge was a castle but not like Vernadam at all. The blocks that it was made of were smaller, yet the design was less ornate and more functional. A simple curtain wall with parapets extended in a perfect square around a courtyard with three towers in the keep. The towers looked to be of different construction than the outer wall, as though they had been added later; cracks in the wall also looked to have been patched with some sort of grout that was visible in the orange light of sunset as the towers cast shade over the whole scene and a cool breeze blew across them. The castle was only a mile or so away, he estimated.

The journey went all too quickly for Cyrus; a few minutes and it seemed to be over. He and the othersa"Curatio, Jaanda, Longwell, Terian, and the Baroness, the latter two trading uneasy looksa"rode along with the small delegation from Galbadien to the gates of Enrant Monge. Cyrus had noted that the castleas four walls each had a gate, one at each compass point. They entered through the eastern gate, and Cyrus looked back to make sure his delegation was still with him as he followed the Kingas over the drawbridge. He saw each of them in turn; Longwell, whose gaze was moving around, examining their surroundings with a little awe, Cattrine, who met Cyrusas look with indifference and turned away after staring him in the eyes for a few seconds. Curatio and Jaanda seemed somewhat wary, and Terian was watching Cyrus when he caught the dark knightas stare. Terian did not look away, however, but continued to watch, Cyrus could feel, even after he had turned back to the path ahead.

The drawbridge was long, a hundred or more feet, and Cyrus pondered the age of the wood with every step Windrider took. It creaked and he looked down into the water. The dark moat rippled as the last vestiges of daylight sparkled across the surface, the orange sky reflected above the ramparts of the castleas mirror image in the water. As they crossed under the gate, Cyrus saw a few guards standing at attention on either side of them. They carried poleaxes and did not move, their livery something very different than what Cyrus had seen before, a kind of red and yellow surcoat with a coat of arms that had red diagonally at top right and bottom left and yellow at top left and bottom right, with Luukessian writing in the banner across the top. Their surcoats were flawless, their helms a shining metal that gave him a stabbing reminder of Vara. He cast another look back at Cattrine, but she was looking elsewhere, her gaze sliding off the guards at attention.

They passed through a bailey and into a smaller keep, between the guards standing at attention outside it. Once through the gate, there were no guards, only stewards, unarmed, waiting for them, bowing (Again with the bowing, thought Cyrus, itas a wonder these people have spines left at all after so much of it) as King Longwell brought his delegation to a halt and Cyrus stopped his just behind him.

aWelcome to Enrant Monge,a the lead steward, a short man in flowing grey robes with long hair that matched them, said, athe heart of unity in Luukessia.a Cyrus heard Terian snort loud enough to attract the attention of everyone around him. aSorry,a the dark knight said, aI guess I must have failed to notice the unity in all the battles Iave fought since I got here.a Cyrus sent him a dirty look, which was matched by Curatio and Jaanda. Terian shrugged, unfazed.

The steward ignored him and continued his clearly pre-practiced speech, hands in the air above him. aThe delegations from Syloreas and Actaluere have already arrived, and we will begin with the traditional welcome ceremony of peace in the garden in half an hour.a The steward nodded. aI would remind you that no weapons or armor are allowed in the garden of serenity, and that no violence is permitted within the walls of Enrant Monge under penalty of death.a aThatas usually how my acts of violence turn out anyway,a Terian said, prompting Curatio to shush him.

aYour tower quarters are prepared,a the steward said. He bowed again, causing Cyrus to unwittingly roll his eyes. aGo forth in peace, brothers.a aBut not sisters, eh?a Cyrus heard Jaanda mutter to Cattrine, causing her to laugh airily.

aThis way to the tower,a Odau Genner said from his place next to Count Ranson, who looked back at the Sanctuary members in amusement. If the King thought anything that had been said was funny, he hid it well, riding atop his horse with only the thinnest hint of expression.

Cyrus dismounted in the courtyard and let a stableboy lead Windrider off with the other horses, back toward the first bailey that they had crossed. Cyrus looked around the inner keepa"the three towers he had seen from the ridge above Enrant Monge were visible now, and ahead of him was another walled structurea"not quite high enough to be a keep, but through a tunnel he could see trees.

aThe Garden of Serenity,a Cattrine said, brushing against him as she walked past. His eyes followed her, sinking lower, to her backside, her riding pants clinging to the lines of her figure after the last long hours on horseback. He blinked and looked up as she turned and caught him, her eyes flashing a something. Before, Cyrus would have assumed lust coupled with amusement, but now it was mixed with coolness. aThe center of the castle and the place where the old keep sat in ancient times, the seat of old Luukessia before the schism. Our entire land was ruled from here.a aIam sure it was very impressive,a Cyrus said with some tightness. aDid I hear him say weare not allowed weapons or armor within the walls?a aOf the Garden of Serenity, yes,a Cattrine said. aYouall be expected to leave them behind in your room in the tower.a He started toward the tower and leaned close to her as he passed, felt the brush of her hair against his, sensed her close and fought off the momentary, mad desire to take her in his arms anda" He stopped and whispered in her ear, aand will you be leaving your dagger in your room in the tower?a He leaned back to see her eyes, and when he did he saw ice, pure and cool, her green irises frosted over. aIf I didnat,a she said, aIad be in violation of the laws of Luukessia and subject to death.a aThat wasnat really an answer,a Cyrus said, and followed the King and his party toward the tower built into the outer wall of the gardena"one of three, but the only one on this side of the keep. Within, he found a dim entry chamber and thick stone walls. The place was lit with small windows, arched but only six inches or so across. Candles hung from the walls and the overhead chandeliers, giving the rooms and the stone within an orange glow, something flickering and dimmer by far than the bright, open-paned windows of Vernadam or even Green Hill. Sanctuary, by contrast, made the tower look even dimmer.

Cyrus waited as King Longwell and his party were escorted to chambers on the lower floors. Cyrus and his party were paired with another steward, a younger one, who led them up several spirals of the staircase, which ran up the center of the castle. Cyrus estimated they were on the fifth or sixth floor when the steward came to a stop and began assigning them rooms. Cyrus deferred to Cattrine, allowing her first choice. The steward opened a door and offered a smallish chamber, not even as large as the bedroom in the suite he and Cattrine had shared at Vernadam.

She nodded in acknowledgment, and the steward blushed. aThere is no bath for the ladies in this tower, madam. If youad like, we can bring up a wooden laundry tub and fill it any time youad care for a bath.a aThank you,a she said. aThat will be fine.a aWhereas the garderobe?a Terian asked, peering into Cattrineas chambers, drawing a look of annoyance from the Baroness, whose passage through the door was blocked by the dark elf. aOr do you have a communal chamber for that?a aAh, no,a said the steward with a hint of embarrassment. aEnrant Monge is an ancient keep, sir.a The steward blushed further at Terian when the dark elf turned his full attention on the dumbstruck lad, who likely had never seen a dark elf before. aWe do not have garderobes.a aOh gods,a Terian said in disgust. aChamber pots? Weare to use chamber pots? Why not just stay with the army? At least I could walk away from the latrine.a aWe clean your quarters every morning, sir,a the steward asserted, seeming to make a slight recovery. aI assure you, we take the utmost pride ina"a aCleaning my shite?a Terian asked, darkly amused. aIam sure you do.a He took note of Cattrine, standing behind him and bowed in an exaggerated manner as he moved aside to allow her to pass. aA thousand pardons, my lady.a aYouall need a thousand and one, since you presumed to call me ayoura lady.a Cattrine stepped past him as though he were no longer there.

aI apologize,a Terian said, fake contrition oozing over his voice. aA thousand and one pardons to Lord Davidonas bedchamber wench, I apologize fora"a She slapped him hard; whether it was because he did not see her attack coming or because he chose to let her hit him, Cyrus could not say.

Terian rubbed his jaw where her hand had landed, a slight smile on his face, the skin already deepening to a darker shade of blue. aIs that not considered to be violence in this place of peace?a Terian asked the steward.

aI saw no violence, sir,a the steward replied without emotion. aEven were it to happen again, I suspect I still would not see it as such. Enrant Monge is a place of peace, not a place of veiled insults or unkindness toward women.a aWell, isnat this a fine place to stay,a Terian said acidly. aPerhaps youall show me to my own room now, so that I may express my sentiments to my chamber pot.a The steward led them on, and Cyrus saw Cattrine disappear behind the door of her room, giving one last look at him before she shuttered herself within.

Cyrus was the last to get his room, a floor above the Baronessas, and not next to anyone but Terian, who had entered his own without comment. Cyrus found his accommodations small but did not complain nor say anything but a brief thanks to the steward, who closed the door and left Cyrus in his room.

Cyrus stared at the walls, the small, rectangular space reminding him of the dungeon room he had taken for a brief time at Sanctuary over a year ago. With a sigh and some reluctance, he began by unstrapping his belt, grasping the scabbard of Praelior, holding it in his hands while he studied it. Avengeras Rest, he thought, remembering the name of the scabbard. I just came from a month of rest, and already I am weary again.

He placed the sword with care upon the bed then eased himself down on the frame, careful to not land too heavily upon it for fear of breaking it. I find myself again rampant with desire. He removed his helm and laid it upon a nearby table. I had a month of free expression of that as well; after such a long time of lacking, it now feels strange to go without the touch of a woman. He grimaced, feeling his desire blossom inadvertantly once more. This needs to stop if Iam to be attired in cloth during my stay here, lest my embarrassment become a constant.

He tugged at his boot, felt the first of them give, sliding around his heel and off, as he set it upon the stone floor with a quiet clang. I could have been back at Sanctuary now. Back among the others a Vaste, Andren a Alaric. The Guildmasteras name brought a slight tremor of unease; he remembered Alaricas anger, his rage at Cyrus, the night before they had left. How is it that I can take wrath and anger from creatures as tall as a building that want to kill mea"from a god, enraged, ready to smite mea"but that of a man smaller than I, a simple paladin and Guildmaster, terrifies me? He felt a burning heat under his collar and slid the gloves from his hands, one by one, placing them upon the dresser. All he did was raise his voice, and I cowered before him, as though I were a child again, listening to the thundercrack of my fatheras voice. Cyrus paused. I donat even remember my fatheras voice.

He worked loose the pauldrons from his shoulders, and laid them at the foot of the bed. We killed a god. I had saved Vara. It was a moment of triumph, and he a merely yelled at me. Cyrus slid off his vambraces, one at a time, working them free to expose the sleeves of his undershirt. He tossed them upon the bed next to the pauldrons. I had scarcely thought of that, since five minutes later I was neatly gutted and tossed aside by Vara but a that might prove tense, if Alaric is still upset with me when I return.

His eyes ran across the room, searching for something familiar but finding only his own armor and darkened surroundings, the single portal window shedding light. Itas been months now, doubtless heall have forgotten whatever irritation he held for me by the time I return. He was fine, after all, when we spoke a few minutes later. He even rallied the army for me to take along. Cyrusas greaves came off and slid down, and he laid them at the foot of the bed on the stone floor, careful not to let them drop for fear of the awful clangor they would make when they hit.

What awaits me at Sanctuary when I return? Possibly a still-angry Guildmaster. A woman who has rejected my advances, who has rejected me a He stopped and pictured her, Vara, as he had seen her once in the garden behind Sanctuary on a sunny day, her hair glowing in the light. He felt the stab again. She is unlikely to have changed her mind; she is more stubborn than anyone Iave ever met. He unfastened his breastplate and backplate, and took them off, lowering them to rest on top of his greaves. So Iall have at least her to contend with. A light blanket of misery settled upon him. Which might not be so bad, save for the fact that a He rubbed his eyes, as though by blotting out the world he could change it to suit his liking. a I donat know that I feel any differently about her than I did when I left.

Cyrus lifted his chainmail over his head in a single motion, slipping it off and depositing it with the other armor he had left on the bed. He paused, noting a few new holes in the links where blades had slipped through since head last had it mended, and shook his head. All this heavy armor and Iam still vulnerable to all manner of attacks. He smiled ruefully. Perhaps the secret is to not get hit. That might be a better solution than armor. But I suppose itas rather like not falling in lovea"and he felt the searing pain of Vara and now Cattrinea"if only it were possible to prevent.

He looked at the full-length mirror in the corner, at the stained and messy cloth undershirt and sighed. What the hell am I supposed to wear to this ceremony? His eyes fell upon the dresser, a tall armoire next to it. He opened the dresser first, finding cloth shirts within of varying sizes, even one large enough to fit him, and then pants as well, with laces for the front.

Upon opening the armoir he blinked. Long robes of green cloth occupied the interior, the same style and cut as had been worn by the stewards that had greeted them upon arrival, but the green was far deeper and more lively than the dull grey worn by the brethren who seemed to maintain the castle. Cyrus wondered at them, at their origin. Do they come from one of the Kingdoms? Or are they set apart and stay here? I should ask Cattrinea" The thought cropped into his mind before he could quell it, a remnant of the month they had spent together at Vernadam. He felt the bitterness of the thought; it had occurred to him infrequently on the journey, creeping up on him when he least expected it, when he forgot the argument, forgot her betrayal.

A gonging in the hallway drew his attention as he finished slipping into the robe. It fit over his head, thick and heavy like burlap, and his new underclothes protected him from the roughness of the cloth. He glanced into the bottom of the armoire where several sizes of boots awaited, and he immediately knew that all of them were far too small for his needs. He sighed and tried on the largest of them, stopping once he had crammed his foot far enough in to know they would never fit. He replaced the footcovers he wore under his boots instead and made his way out of the room.

Cyrus found the others milling about in the hallway, down the spiral of the stairs, and the deep, resonant gonging continued, ringing forth once every thirty seconds as the tower continued to empty. Cyrus led the way, finding Curatio and Jaanda still in their own robes. Longwell and Terian had similarly changed into garb resembling his. Longwell appeared to be at peace with his robes while Terian fussed at his, muttering mild curses in the dark elven language that Cyrus knew only because of how foul they were.

Cattrine waited on the landing below, still clad in her riding outfit. The others followed Cyrus, and when he paused to acknowledge her, looking her riding outfit up and down with a flick of his eyes, she spoke. aWomen donat wear the robes of the brethren.a She drew up and folded her arms. aWomen are to be clad in dresses at all times and not to adopt the accouterments of men.a He raised an eyebrow at her, letting the unasked question hang between them. She smiled, but there was none of the sweetness or promise it carried a month earlier. aThis ought to leave my brother with a certain sting.a aYes,a Cyrus agreed, aI know from experience youare quite good at that.a He didnat wait for her to respond, instead leading the way down the stairs to the bottom.

When they reached the bottom he followed the grey-clad stewards in a column out into the courtyard, where they joined a long line outside the gates to the Garden of Serenity. They stopped in the small tunnel, as each of the members entering was called forward, their full rank and titles being yelled out into the garden.

Cyrus heard an echoing voice as they waited in a line, moving forward as one person from each Kingdom was admitted at a time. There were heralds stationed at each entrance to the garden and they took up the call of their fellows whenever a name and title were called out, making certain that everyone in the garden and waiting in the tunnel heard it as well. The herald shouted in front of him and Cyrus found himself cupping one hand to his ear as he did so.

Odau Genner was in front of him and leaned back to speak. aOur King will have you go before him, so that he may enter last. I suspect Actaluere will do the same.a aWhat about Syloreas?a Cyrus asked.

aMaster of Scylax Hall, the Grand Duke of the Erres Fjords, conqueror of Viras Tellus, victor at the battle of Argoss Swamp and master of the north, the King of Syloreas, Briyce Unger!a The shout carried down the tunnel and drew a sharp sigh of reprobation from Genner.

aThe northmen always do things differently,a Genner complained. aUncivilized blighters, arenat they? Focused on war and destruction, conquest and battle. Bloody savages if you ask me.a Another name was called, this one from Actaluereas rolls. aDonat get me wrong, weave been known to engage in a war or two ourselves. But the business of Galbadien is not in war, itas in the good, green land. Weall fight, when necessary, but the Syloreans a theyall fight simply because they want to fight.a aItas of great interest to me,a Cyrus began, folding his arms over his green robes, ahow many times Iave been to lands when people are at war. You know whatas funny about that? Itas always the other party that seems to have started it. No one ever wants to admit that they might be at fault for a war beginning, but everyone damned sure wants to win once itas begun.a aYes, I see,a Genner said. aHow peculiar.a A succession of names went on as servants of King Longwell passed him in the line, going forth into the garden. Count Ranson was called shortly thereafter, with a litany of titles. By now, Cyrus was near the front, and when one of them in particular was calleda"aVictor of the Battle of Harrowas Crossing!aa"he saw Ranson stiffen and turn, appalled, his mouth agape, until his eyes locked onto Cyrusas and he shook his head in apology. Cyrus watched and shrugged, feeling a strange mix of despondence and indifference that he couldnat quite attribute to any one thing.

When Cyrus drew near to the front of the line, the herald stopped him, asking him quickly for a title and listing, finding nothing about him on the parchment he held in front of him. Cyrus obliged, quickly, between the heraldas repeated shouts of the titles and names given by his opposite numbers on Actaluere and Syloreasas sides of the courtyard.

aGeneral Cyrus Davidon of Sanctuary,a the herald began after completing the call for the Baron who had just entered from Actaluere. aWarden of the Southern Plains, Lord of Perdamun, conqueror of Green Hill, victor of the battle of the Mountains of Nartanis, defender of the Grand Span in Termina, and vanquisher of the Goblin Imperium!a Cyrus took the cue from the herald and walked forward, out of the tunnel and into the garden. Though slightly smaller than the foyer at Sanctuary, it was filled near to brimming with trees and plants of all kinds, as well as flowers in planters. Four paths led down into the center of the garden, which was a sort of small-scale amphitheater. Three of the four sections had already begun to fill, with green robes seated to his left, nearest him, and opposite them, blue robes that he suspected represented Actaluereas delegation. Across the center of the amphitheater and to his right was the Sylorean delegation, clad in white robes. To his right was an empty section, bereft of any occupants. Tempted though he was, Cyrus avoided sitting within those seats, veering instead into the Galbadiensa.

He found a clear segment of benches not far from Odau Genner and listened to the next two names called, waiting to hear Samwen Longwell announced to follow him. Instead, he heard something quite unexpected.

aThe Baroness Cattrine Tiernan Hoygraf, late of castle Green Hill, free woman and advisor to the guild of Sanctuary.a A buzz of conversation and muted outrage came from the Actaluere delegation, men in blue robes muttering and casting glares toward the Galbadiens, a few choice epithets making their way across the aisle. For their part, the men of Galbadien seemed muted in their response; Odau Genneras eyes would not meet Cyrusas and were centered entirely on his leather footwear.

He turned to see Cattrine come down the aisle, seating herself on the empty bench behind him.

Cyrus stared at her. aI thought Longwell was next.a She didnat emote when she answered, keeping neutral. aHe was behind you, but his father asked that he be announced just before the King, and Samwen acceded to his wishes.a She made a face, a very slight one, of triumph. aThe King also asked that I step forward, I think hoping that it might prompt a reaction from the Actaluere delegation.a She wore a bitter smile. aI believe it has.a Another was called from Syloreas, a mountainous man whom Cyrus took note of as he strode down the aisle and took his seat with the rest. All of the men of Syloreas seemed larger to Cyrusas eyes than the Actaluere or Galbadien delegations, closer to his own height. He spoke to the Baroness, but did not turn to look at her as he did so. aIad be a bit careful of how hard you provoke your brother looking for a reaction. You might find one youare not liable to enjoy.a aHe pledged me to a man who beat and tortured me for a year,a she said, her voice like iron. aIad worry if you hadnat killed my husband because then I might have something to fear. But even if you send me back to Actaluere with my brother, what is the worst that can happen?a aYou never ask that,a Cyrus said. aItas just bad form.a Cattrine almost seemed to chuckle, and for just a moment the distance between them faded until Cyrus remembered that they were not at Vernadam any longer. aWhy is that?a Cattrine asked when her reserve had returned. aDo you subscribe to the western superstition of believing that your gods will inflict such things upon you as some sort of punishment?a aI donat subscribe to much,a Cyrus said, abut Iave seen gods, and theyare not why I fear to say something like that. Itas almost as though youare tempting it to come true, as though youare seeking pain.a He shook his head. aIave got enough pain already, I donat need to seek any more.a The heraldas call was jarring, dragging Cyrusas attention away from Cattrine and back to the matter at hand. aOh gods,a she whispered behind him.

aThe victor of the clash at the Dun Crossroad, the Blade of Actaluere, Baron of Green Hill, and now Grand Duke of all Forrestshirea"Tematy Hoygraf!a He walked with the aid of a stick, leaning heavily with every step, fighting the pull of gravity with his upper body, and warring against legs that almost didnat seem to want to carry him. His hair was still black, his beard still unkempt and patchy, but long where it grew, and his pale blue eyes were filled with just as much spite as when last Cyrus had seen them, glaring at him from the floor of the manas own living quarters. Barona"now Grand Dukea"Hoygraf worked his way down the aisle and seated himself with great effort, glaring all the while at Cyrus and Cattrine.

aThat,a Cyrus said, a little chill running down him, ais why you never ask what the worst that can happen is.a

Chapter 27.

aWhat the hells, Cyrus?a Terian hissed at him a few minutes later, after he was announced and had taken his seat. aYou getting so weak and soft in your old age that you donat remember how to properly kill a man anymore?a aWhy donat you test me and find out?a Cyrus answered him in a calm voice. Grand Duke. I gutted him and he got a new title. Imagine what his King will reward him with when I kill him for real next time.

aWhat now?a Terian asked. aWe kill him, right?a aNot here,a Cyrus said. He glanced back and saw Cattrine frozen, staring across the distance at the Grand Duke. aHey,a he said, snapping her attention back to him. aWhatever our differences, you will not be going back with him, understand?a aThank you,a she whispered. aYou are aa She swallowed heavily, aa a man of the finest quality. A woman would be lucky to possess you, even for so short a while as I did.a aYour mush is making me nauseous,a Terian said as Jaanda seated himself next to them. aAnd Iam already homicidal thanks to Hoygrafas sudden appearance, so letas not push it, all right?a aYour sword is usually far better aimed than this, my friend,a Jaanda said to Cyrus without a hint of admonition.

aIam sorry,a Cyrus snapped, aI canat recall ever stabbing someone in the stomach with the intention to make the wound painful yet mortal. Iall try harder next time to maximize his suffering while minimizing his chances of survival.a Cyrusas expression hardened. aOr maybe Iall just get back to what I do best, which is killing on the spot and leaving no chance of survival.a aThatas the spirit, play to your strengths,a Jaanda said without enthusiasm. aWe still may have to deal with this bastard.a aNot here,a Curatio said as he seated himself with them. aIf you truly mean to revenge yourself upon this man, it at least needs to wait until weare clear of Enrant Monge. Assuming our general doesnat disagree,a he said with a nod to Cyrus, aI donat think we should be causing any more hell for our hosts to deal with. We did come here to help them, after all.a aTo the blazes with our hosts,a Terian said, his eyes afire, ain case you havenat noticed, King Longwell is using us as the spear to keep his enemies at bay while he tries to decide how best to pluck their Kingdoms. Heall have us sacking their castles aere long, sending us all around this land making us keep his damned peace.a aYou ready to leave?a Cyrus asked Terian, challenge infusing every word. aIad say Alaricas about due for a messenger, and you could go right along with thema"a aIam no coward,a Terian said, sullen. aIall stay until the end of the fight. But I donat like being used, especially not to build someoneas empire. We came here to save Longwellas fatheras Kingdom, and we did that. Now heas just using us to prop up his army.a aNo doubt,a Samwen Longwell slid onto the bench in front of Cyrus, alongside Curatio, and leaned back. aHe will keep us here as long as possible and use whatever pretense he can to extend our stay. The timing of this trip and Actaluereas declaration was so fortuitous I donat wonder if there werenat missives exchanged before the declaration arrived.a aUsually not a fantastic sign when a manas own son accuses him of sinister motives,a Jaanda said with a shake of the head. aWhat do we do, then?a aWe wait,a Cyrus said as Actaluereas King was announced. aWe sit here and we watch the whole summit, and we decide where we go from there.a At that moment, the King of Actaluere was announced with great pomp and circumstance, and a title that took almost two minutes for the herald to fully read. When he came out, Cyrus watched along with the others. Milos Tiernan was a younger man than Aron Longwell, or Briyce Unger, for that matter. His hair was long and black, but straight, and his high cheekbones and cold eyes surveyed everything carefully as he entered from the tunnel, a slow, steady gait to his walk, no crown upon his head. He had no crowas feet at the edges of his eyes, no obvious wrinkles. His eyes moved slickly, smoothly, and they were smaller than most, Cyrus judged, as though they were always watching everything around him.

When Tiernan reached the amphitheater, he seated himself in the front row, his gaze focused on a mountain of a man in the front row of the Sylorean delegation. Cyrus had noted the Sylorean when he entered; the man appeared to be nearly as tall as Cyrus himself or possibly taller, and he shifted uncomfortably in his robe, as though he chafed under it as some sort of weight upon him. Long, jet-black hair belied a face that bore a couple of choice scarsa"one under the manas right eye that stitched several inches down to his jaw. Another ran the length of his forehead, as though it were just another furrow in his brow. If thatas not Briyce Unger, Cyrus thought, Iam a gnome. The entire Sylorean delegation seemed ill at ease, and Cyrus could see, almost instinctively, that every last one of them was watching Unger for a cue, trying to decide how to act, and shifting aimlessly in their seats as though eager to leave.

aAnd finally,a the last herald announced, launching into a two minute recital of titles before concluding with, aKing of Galbadien, Aron Longwell!a aAs a point of literal correctness,a Jaanda said with a sigh, ahe should have saved the, aand finallya for after the recitation of titles.a The enchanter looked pointedly at Cyrus. aAnd I thought you were overly impressed with your accolades. You are a rank amateur compared to these shameless self-gratifying professionals.a aWhat are you talking about?a Terian said with a malicious grin. aHeas very much in the realm of professional when it comes to self-gratification.a The dark elf cast his wicked smile at Cattrine. aEspecially of late.a Cyrus did not volley back at Terian, instead shifting to watch King Longwell make his way slowly down to the front bench in their segment of the amphitheater. For the first time, Cyrus noted that a few of the grey-robed stewards were lurking behind each set of benches, as though they were waiting for something, standing still, arms crossed behind their backs.

One of the heralds spoke, not echoed by the other two. aNow I introduce to you Brother Grenwald Ivess, the patron of our order, the Brotherhood of the Broken Blade.a A portly, balding man with the last vestiges of grey hair ringing the sides and back of his head made his way down to the empty set of benches on the fourth side of the circle, the unoccupied set to Cyrusas right.

aThe Brotherhood of the Broken Blade has cared for Enrant Monge for thousands of years,a Cattrine said quietly, drawing the attention of all the Sanctuary delegation save for Samwen Longwell, who was leaning over, face resting in his hands, watching the proceedings below unfold as Grenwald Ivess took his seat. aThey keep and maintain it as a place of regard for our ancestors who were united in ruling Luukessia. Their mission is to keep it ready for the day when Luukessia will unite again under the banner of old and we will become as great as our fathers before us, equal and worthy to carry on their proud tradition of unity.a She pointed to a fourth tunnel, the one that Grenwald Ivess had come into the garden through. aOut that tunnel is the fourth gate of Enrant Monge, the south gatea"also called the Unity Gate. If the day comes that the Kings forge the final peace, those who have attended here will walk out of that gate; it has not been used since Enrant Monge was the seat of all the land.a aWhat happened here?a Jaanda asked. aWhat caused the Kingdoms to fragment?a aI do not know,a Cattrine said. aWe have no real records from those days. Our writings have all been lost to the ravages of age, and no one lives who has more than a tale passed down through the millennia, weakened and twisted by the passage of time.a She shrugged. aI doubt you could get an accurate accounting from anyone who wasnat there themselves to see ita"ten thousand years ago.a Cyrusas head swiveled slowly along with Longwellas, Terianas and Jaandaas, and all four sets of their eyes came to rest on Curatio, who looked back at them impassively, almost disinterested. aCuratio?a Jaanda asked.

aYes, Jaanda?a Curatio wore an almost patronizing smile plastered on his face.

aDo tell.a aTell what?a Curatio said, maintaining his overly friendly smile as below them Grenwald Ivess stood and launched into a florid greeting that Cyrus didnat catch a word of. aOh, Iam sorry,a the healer said, voice slightly above a whisper. aAre you under the impression that I know something about what happened here ten thousand years ago?a aTen thousand years ago?a Cyrus asked. aKind of a funny number. Been coming up a lot lately.a aA few times in the space of months could be considered hardly more than a coincidence,a Curatio said.

aBut itas not, is it?a Jaanda asked. aThe War of the Gods, ten thousand years ago? It spilled over here, didnat it?a aNot really,a Curatio said. aThere were certainly expeditions, but when the war began, I firmly believe it constrained itself to Arkaria. What happened here, I believe, happened shortly before the war. I havenat heard much more than rumors, secondhand, keep in minda"but to understand even those, you must realize that humans do not originate on Arkaria.

aIam sorry, what is he talking about?a Cattrine asked.

aHeas over twenty thousand years old,a Cyrus said. aHe lived through your landas schism.a Cyrus watched Cattrineas jaw drop then watched her eyes flick to Curatio, appraising him, looking for some sign of the age he didnat show.

aThat sounds ridiculous, Curatio,a Jaanda said. aHumans are likely the most populous race in Arkaria. They certainly have more in numbers than the dwarves, the gnomes, the elves or the trolls.a aVery true, but it was not always so. The rise of the Confederation and their power is very recent, remember. In fact, I recall the days when there were no humans.a He sighed. aNot fondly, exactly, but a uh a well.a He paused, slightly pained. aIt was simpler back then, you understand.a aSo if humans donat come from Arkaria a?a Cyrus let his words trail off.

aThey are from Luukessia,a Curatio said, aand from inauspicious beginnings did they come to Arkariaa"the ancients sent expeditions to Luukessia for purposes of slaving, bringing back tens of thousands of humans to their capitala"where Reikonos sits todaya"as labor for their empire. The expeditions stopped after the ancients were destroyed, obviously, but humanity on Arkaria sprung from the ashes of the empire and took root in their lands.a aA fascinating history lesson,a Longwell said, skeptical. aBut I have a hard time believing that, if youall forgive me.a Curatio shrugged. aI saw enough of it myself to be sure itas true, humans marched into the coliseum to fight for the entertainment of the ancients. I saw them tending the houses, working in the fields. Iave never been to Luukessia myself until now, so all Iad heard is what those on the expeditions told me.a aYou knew the ancients?a Cyrus asked.

aSome of them,a Curatio said. aI was in their capital for a time.a aInteresting story. Will you play Alaric and refuse to tell us any more of it if we ask later?a Jaanda watched the healer with a coy smile.

aIad rather not remember some of those days,a Curatio said darkly. aBut Iam willing to discuss parts of it. Back to the point, thougha"the last time the ancients came here, Luukessia was already in chaos and the land was dividing into what I presume became the Kingdoms you have today.a He shrugged. aThat is all I recall of it.a aFascinating,a Jaanda said as the volume rose down on the floor, drowning out any further whispering.

King Longwell was standing now as was Milos Tiernan and a few of their aides as well. aI have done nothing to you,a King Longwell said, his voice comically raised. aDid I ransack one of your castles? Did my army? No.a aIt was your vassals,a Milos Tiernan said, his voice calm, much calmer than Longwellas. aI see them, even now, sitting with my sister, as though to taunt me with her as an affront to my honor.a Cyrus looked at the man carefully, watching his facial movements, and decided that if there was any sign of effrontery there, it was well hidden. aYour mercenaries came through my lands and caused great harm to my people.a aYour Baron kidnapped my people and brought great harm to your own lands,a Cyrus said, standing, and drawing a gasp from the crowds on Actaluereas and Galbadienas benches. aHad he simply let us pass, none of what youare upset over would have happened, and head still be a baron,a Cyrus pointed to Hoygraf, who glared at him, hunched over on his seat, awith all his equipment still functioning, and not a Grand Duke who lacks any grandiosity.a aYou have no standing to speak here, sir,a Milos Tiernan said, still unexpressive.

aAnd yet Iam standing and Iam speaking,a Cyrus said. aHow about that.a Cyrus felt the tug of Odau Genner pulling on his sleeve, so he sat and Genner whispered to him, aInterrupting the debate of Kings is not considered to be appropriate.a Cyrus stared at the clearly disturbed Genner, whose face seemed to be twitching from thought of the infraction of the rules. aIall do it sparingly in the future,a Cyrus said, causing Genner to twitch anew.

They returned their attention to the floor, where King Longwell was reading a list of grievances to Briyce Unger of Syloreas, who stared at his feet in utter boredom. When Aron Longwell finished, he asked, aWhat say you, Unger?a Briyce Unger stirred, slowly, as though awakening from a sleep. He got to his feet, unfolding his massive frame. He was muscled like Cyrus, though he was older, and his physique bulged even through the sleeves of the robe. aItas all true,a Unger said. aI wonat deny a bit of it, though some of those injuries donat sound like things my men did, especially a few of those villages you claim were damaged. Seems theyare a mite further south than my armies got, at least to my understanding, but Iall not quibble with your accounting.a A buzz ran through the garden, one of amused joy in the Galbadien ranks, slight shock in Actaluereas, and mutinous rumblings from Syloreas. aWhatas that about?a Cyrus asked Genner, who watched agape.

aBriyce Unger has just accepted the Kingas reportage of grievances,a Genner said, his mouth flapping in shock. aThat means heall agree to pay reparations for the damages. Such things are never agreed upon this quickly in the moot, and certainly not whollya"I mean, we included villages in the listing that suffered no damage, so we would be able to cede some out from the final figures. Thatas how it works, you see, you profess a list of damages, they deny it totally, then you give them a smaller list, they acknowledge one, maybe two, and it goes ona"no one accepts a list of grievances wholly, not ever!a aWhy would he do that?a Cyrus asked.

aHow much will he be paying?a Terian asked, a glimmer in his eyes.

aI donat know on either count,a Genner said. aItas all to be decided later, in smaller sessions. This first session is for the points of major contention, when all the grievances are reported; the mediations come later and are handled by underlings, not the Kings.a aBriyce Unger,a Grenwald Ivess spoke, as King Longwell took his seat. aNow has come the time for your first grievance to be brought.a Unger took his feet once more, and motioned up the steps behind him. aI have a grievance mightier than anyone else, one that concerns everyone in this room, eventually, one which will destroy us all if left unchecked.a aYou fear my mercenaries?a King Longwell was already on his feet. aYou bring your own, wreck my Kingdom, and now you wish to warn of the dangers of westerners, now that a group of them is poised at your neck?a Cyrus watched the King, and from the side profile he could see veins standing out on the manas temple, his ire either real or well feigned.

Unger waved his hand in utter dismissal. aWere your western mercenaries camped outside my hall in Scylax even now, I would be unworried. I have greater concerns.a He waved his hand up the stairs, and four of his men came down, carrying a large bundle between them, wrapped in cloth as though it were a funeral shroud being borne by the four warriors, one at each corner. aThings have happened between us, battles,a he nodded at King Longwell, awars, takings of women and sisters,a he nodded at Tiernan. aBut what is waiting for us right now is a threat graver than any of our petty concerns.a aI doubt head feel the same had he taken Vernadam a moon ago,a Genner said under his breath. Cyrus heard grunts of agreement from the benches in front of him.

Unger ignored whatever comments were made and focused on his oratory. aIn the last month and a half, my Kingdom has been invaded.a Milos Tiernan sat up in interest, as did Aron Longwell, Cyrus saw. aI didnat think Count Ransonas armies had made it into Syloreasas territories yet?a he asked Genner under his breath.

aThey havenat. It must be Tiernan, that bastard opportunist. He always strikes when a back is turned.a Genner guffawed. aBetter Unger than us.a aWhat accusation are you making here?a Milos Tiernan asked.

aIam not accusing anyone here,a Briyce Unger said, holding up his arms. aIave lost the northern mountain reaches of my Kingdom to an invasion. No man is responsible, not as near as I can tell. Itas this,a he kicked out with his toe, pointed at the bundle his soldiers had laid at his feet. aThese a things.a With that, his men pulled back the cloth. A smell of rot wafted over the crowd, causing a few weak stomachs to gag. Cyrusas eyes were fixed on the black cloth, on the creature within. It was pale of skin, without a hair to be seen. Decomposition had set in and the flesh had begun to decay, maggots crawling over it, but the figure was still visible, and Cyrus stood to get a better look.

It walked on four legs, even with a roughly man-shaped body. A hideously disfigured mouth was still visible, though the edges of it had begun to decay. Had he not seen one recently, it still would have looked familiar, though Cyrus could not place the thing, could not decide where he had ever seen one before, or even ifa"

aItas the aa Jaanda was the one who spoke. aFrom the swamp, when we captured Partus, itas the a ghoulish thing that was attacking him. Itas just like it.a The enchanter covered his nose. aBut I think it might smell worse than the other one.a aThese things,a Briyce Unger said, ahave cut to the heart of my Kingdom. They come by the thousands, out of the mountains to the north, the impassable lands of snow, and even now they are sweeping south toward Scylax.a The big King drew himself up, and a look of utter calm descended upon him. aAnd soon enough, if we donat act together, theyall keep coming south, until they cover all Luukessia.a

Chapter 28.