"Stop those guards!" Aradia shouted at the people of Uadjit, who stared with glazed eyes. "Are you not Asim's men? Are you not rebels? Fight for your freedom! Fight for your lives!"

"They're under my control!" Healer Hajib Kielos said with a gloating note. He spoke, half-crouching, from the safety of a doorway. "They will not--"

Aradia stood to face him, her eyes wide with the fever of battle. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides as she took a warning step toward him. Her lips drew back over gnashing teeth, bared like those of a weretigress ready to pounce.

"Release your hold on them, or you'll die a thousand deaths before I'm finished with you!" Aradia said.

"I'll do nothing of the kind." The Healer crossed his arms over his chest and grinned hatefully.

"Then die, you piece of offal!"

With the flick of her hand, Aradia hurled her borrowed dagger through the air. With an admonishing pout on his face, the Healer looked down at the blade's handle protruding from his chest, then slid to his ass in the doorway. His large head soon fell to a chest that had ceased to draw breath.

"Awake, people of Uadjit!" Aradia shouted. "Save yourselves!"

Jaelan tried to gain his wife's attention, but she didn't hear his feeble words over the Temple Guards' war cry as they turned to attack the hapless villagers with their bare hands. He felt consciousness slowing leaving him, and knew if he allowed himself to sink into the black void, the people of Uadjit would be doomed, and perhaps his wife and friends as well.

A dark shape shot past Tarsis' line of vision, stunning him. He blinked, flinching, then saw the huge raven land atop the wall beside him. He stared into the bird's beady eyes and found he could not look away. In the space of a heartbeat, something passed between the bird and the old warrior. Tarsis shuddered, then looked at Aradia.

"Milady!" he yelled. "Jaelan's trying to tell you something!"

Aradia bent over her husband so she could hear his words.

"Command them in the name of the Prophet," he whispered. "Bid them awake in the name of Aleli." His eyelids fluttered and he passed out, blood oozing from the side of his mouth.

"No!" Aradia shrieked, fearing she had lost him.

Coming to her feet like an avenging angel, she pointed a lethal finger toward the villagers. "Awake, you whoring sons of bitches and worthless dams of dogs! In the name of the Prophet Aleli! Wake and defend yourselves, for I care not if you live or die!"

As though coming up from the depths of a bad dream, the villagers appeared to shake off the spell. They stumbled against one another, righted themselves, then seemed to recognize the danger coming at them.

With a belated grunt of protest, they met the Temple Guards head-on, attacking them with whatever lay near at hand--hoes and scythes, hammers and axes, loose building stones and chords of wood. They bludgeoned their would-be killers, struck them down, caved in their heads, letting blood flow in horrid fountains. They broke limbs, severed throats, punctured chests in a frenzy of butchery that would likely make them question their sanity later.

At that moment, Samiel Ben-Ashaman appeared, gasping for breath, sweat glistening on his face. He rushed to Alunio, struck the shackles from the Diabolusian's arms, and told him to see to Sir Tarsis.

"Where were you, old man?" Alunio grumbled, chaffing the bruised flesh of his wrists.

"Be glad I arrived at all, warthog." Samiel moved on to the Death Lords, set the first one free, then joined his people in their savage war.

"Milady..." Jaelan whispered, his grating voice cacthing Aradia's ear over the din of destruction.

"I thought you were dead," she sobbed, touching her lips to his.

"I think...I was..." he said hoarsely. The fever had climbed so high, he felt on fire. The poison raced through his veins,

his body hovering on the brink of convulsions. He hurt so badly, he clamped his jaws to keep from crying out. "Ineed...need help,aziza ..."

"We've got to get him back to Abbadon," Tarsis said, rushing forward with Alunio.

"But they'll still send him to prison," Alunio protested.

"What choice do we have?" Tarsis asked. "Would you rather he dies?"

"You can not take him back to that vile place," Aradia said.

"Lady," Tarsis said, kneeling beside her. "Medicine there will help combat a second poisoning of Maiden's Briar. Ifhe's not given the antidote within the next hour or two, you might be a widow come morning."

Aradia looked at Tarsis, then turned her tearful gaze to Alunio. "Can you not ride back for the brew?"

"And risk losing time?" Tarsis said. "No, sweeting. We must return him to the fortress if he's to survive."

"See that column?" Samiel asked, joining them and pointing toward riders heading their way. "Do you want to wait to see if they're friend or foe?"

Aradia, Tarsis, and Alunio looked at the wavering cloud of dust.

"We'll take him to Abbadon," Tarsis declared, hefting the unconscious Shadowlord into his arms. "That's the only solution."

Aradia sensed the riders advancing were friendly, but couldn't chance her husband's life. With the Temple Guards slain, Dakar, his henchmen Neter, and the Healer standing before the Seat of Judgment, no tales would be taken back to Abbadon. Jaelan would be as safe as she could make him until they could settle the question of his imprisonment at Ghurn.

"Lady, quickly!" Samiel had corralled a mount for her, but she shook her head.

"I have a horse." She lifted her fingers to her lips, whistling shrilly for the stallion upon which she had entered the godforsaken village. When the feisty animal trotted obediently to her, she vaulted into the saddle.

Samiel mounted the horse he had reserved for her, while Alunio settled on his own stallion, then accepted an unconscious Jaelan from Tarsis.

"Don't let him fall," Tarsis ordered.

"Look after yourself, old man," Alunio grumbled, cradling Jaelan against him.

As the four horses galloped out of Uadjit, Sekhem Neter laboriously pulled himself along in the sand. His elbows dug deep with each straining movement. From the waist down, his body lay as dead as a hunk of petrified wood, his useless legs leaving twin furrows on the desert floor.

After escaping the wrath of the infuriated villagers as he hid behind a water trough, he struggled to put as much distance between himself and the carnage as his paralyzed body would grant.

And with every agonized inch he crawled, he plotted the agonies he would visit upon Aradia Ben-Ashaman when next they met.

Epilogue.

As taken from the Scrolls of Miraman:.

"The Shadowlord's woman, Princess Aradia Lykopis of Amazeen, First daughter of the Defense Queen, came to the aid of her husband with all the might of her warrioress ancestry pulsing within her stalwart heart.

"Though the might of the Brotherhood of the Domination was allied against the lovers, the Prophet and His Lady wove a web of concern around them. Such would be the cast of the troubles that kingdoms would tremble and the Kings upon their thrones shudder with fear.

"I, Kasid, the Talespinner, will continue now with the saga of Lord Jaelan Ben-Ashaman. Be quiet and reverent as I speak: "The Shadowlord was taken back to Abbadon, his body wracked with fever, his wounds opened and oozing liquid that gave off an unpleasant odor. His lady-wife, the courageous Princess Aradia, stayed at his bedside both day and night, taking her meals as she watched each breath he took. As she tended him, she plotted the revenge that would see those who had harmed her lover punished for their transgressions.

"It was on the fifth day of his recuperation, that a Death Warrant was sent for the arrest of the Shadowlord's woman..."

Charlotte Boyett-Compo.

Charlotte Boyett-Compo is the author of more than two dozen novels, the first ten of which are theWindLegends Saga . For nearly three full years, Charlee has remained--first with Dark Star Publications, and now with Amber Quill Press--the company's most popular and best-selling author. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, the HTML Writer's Guild, and Beta Sigma Phi Sorority. Married thirty-two years to her high school sweetheart, Tom, she is the mother of two grown sons, Pete and Mike, and the proud grandmother of Preston Alexander and Victoria Ashlee. A native of Sarasota, Florida, she grew up in Colquitt and Albany, Georgia, and now lives in the Midwest.

Most any fan of electronic books--or fans of dark fantasy and suspense--has at least heard her name mentioned, if not purchased at least one of her many offerings. This prolific author has not only managed to gain multiple nominations and awards for her work, but better still, has built a fan base whose members border on the "fanatical."

Currently, Charlee is at work on at least several books in her various series and trilogies.

Also by Charlotte Boyett-Compo.

At Grandma's Knee.

BlackWind BloodWind DarkWind In the Heart of the Wind In the Teeth of the Wind In the Wind's Eye NightWind Prince of the Wind ShadowWind Shards Anthology WindChance WindFall

The WindLegend's Saga Book I: Windkeeper Book II: Windseeker Book III: Windweeper Book IV: Windhealer Book V: Windreaper Book VI: Winddreamer

Book VII: Windbeliever

Book VIII: Winddeceiver Book IX: Windretriever Book X: Windschemer