Grimm bit off an acidic rejoinder as the bruised, battered Quelgrum hobbled into the leafy refuge.

"We've got company," he said. "Looks almost like a delegation, but they are armed, and there are quite a lot of them."

"I'l go, General." The young Questor felt relieved that the General's interruption had defused a nasty situation. Turning his back on his stil -irate col eague, he strode out of the bushes, holding his head high.

Although the large lump on the back of his head stil throbbed, he felt much better than he had.

As he strode onto the greensward between the Pit and Mansion House, he saw the General had not exaggerated; a veritable army was approaching. Twenty-five or thirty green-uniformed men, weapons at the ready, surrounded a short, white-haired man dressed in a black suit.

His voice ful of bravado he did not feel, Grimm cried "That's far enough, gentlemen. You must be aware that your Technological weapons wil have no effect on me. The least assault upon me wil bring down a rain of destruction you cannot begin to imagine."

The short man, his eyes shifting in a nervous manner, stepped forward. "I am Elor Chudel, mage."

So this puny-looking man was the elusive owner of Mansion House! Grimm had expected a sepulchral figure with eyebrows like lightning-bolts, and he suppressed an unbecoming laugh.

"I wish to discuss mutual y acceptable terms," Chudel said, in a high-pitched, almost musical voice.

"I am only wil ing to discuss terms of your surrender, Chudel. You have no choice in the matter."

"I am an honest businessman, Lord Mage! Perhaps I am guilty of tweaking people's emotions in order to heighten their enjoyment, but no more than that."

"You are a filthy, manipulative slaver, Chudel! You are responsible for torturing men into putting on a bloody, degrading spectacle for the gratification of artificial y enhanced blood-lust. You are a foul carbuncle on the arse of the human race, and not fit to live!"

"I was weak," Chudel said, spreading his hands wide in supplication. "Yoren is a poor town. I fulfil ed a perceived need and put money in the town's coffers, but I perceive now that I may have been overzealous. I give you my word that the Pit wil now be an honest spectacle. We wil use no more pheromones in Mansion House and the Pit, and our fighters wil be wil ing volunteers. If only you wil spare us, I wil swear to run this establishment on honest lines from now on."

Chudel's performance almost convinced Grimm; the large, pleading eyes, the tremulous hint of desperation in the proprietor's voice, and the subtle quivering of his lower lip spoke of an honest but misguided man, trying to make his way in an unforgiving world in the only way he could.

However, the mage knew he had made grave errors of trust before: the witch, Madeleine and her mistress, Prioress Lizaveta among the beneficiaries of his misplaced beliefs.

Chudel might have appeared a pathetic morsel of humanity, but Grimm now knew better than to trust blind instinct. Invoking the talent he had had since childhood, he invoked his Mage Sight. In place of the shifting patterns of colours he had been able to interpret for so long, he saw a blank, white nothingness, the sign of witch magic, and he guessed its source.

"If you are trying to gain my sympathy, scum, you are going about it the wrong way," he snapped. "I know you are under the protection of Prioress Lizaveta, the woman who betrayed my grandfather."

Chudel sank to his knees, his eyes wide. "What were we to do, mage?" he pleaded. "The Prioress has been Yoren's patron for many years.

When she told us another Questor, the grandson of Loras Afelnor, was approaching, we feared for our lives. Prioress Lizaveta cast a spel on Mansion House, so that our minds could not be affected by mind-magic, and she reminded us that we owed her for her protection.

You have no idea what she could have done if we'd refused to aid her by preventing you from finding her."

Grimm shook his head.

"Save your speeches, Chudel," he growled. "Regardless of your complicity with Lizaveta, this place is an abomination, and I intend to burn it to the ground."

"You are a monster!" Chudel screamed. "There are innocent people inside the House!"

"Then I suggest you arrange an immediate evacuation, Chudel. The audience is at an end!"

At that moment, a guard launched a stream of bul ets at the lone Questor, to be joined swiftly by his comrades, and Grimm laughed as the projectiles flew back to their sources, repel ed by the invaluable gem he had borrowed from High Lodge.

Chudel seemed to have a charmed life; as the armed guard around him col apsed, not one of the smal , deadly projectiles struck him.

I must see if I can't buy one of these gems when I get back, Grimm thought, marvel ing at the efficacy of the magical shield Horin had lent him.

He pretended not to have noticed the fusil ade, holding Chudel's wide, terrified eyes in a steely gaze that only another Questor could hope to equal in intensity.

"You have tried my patience enough, smal man," he said. "In ten minutes, I expect to see our wagon at the entrance, with al our weapons and belongings aboard. If there is any further attempt upon me within that time, I wil wait no longer before visiting my wrath upon you and yours.

"Time is ticking away, Chudel; I recommend that you do not tarry. I rather fancy that the freed Pit fighters, once they have finished with Kel er, wil turn their interest on you."

"What of the countless, blameless employees of Mansion House?" Chudel pleaded. "What do you leave us, apart from destitution?"

"I leave you your miserable lives," Grimm growled. "Nobody here is blameless, worm; be grateful that I do not choose to destroy you al . But I wil , if you deviate from my terms by one iota."

Chudel ran into the reception hal as if possessed, ringing a bel reserved for emergencies. As staff members flooded into the vestibule, he screamed, "Get everybody out! That bastard mage is going to destroy Mansion House in less than ten minutes, and I don't think we can stop him. He's onto our little game, he knows that old cow Lizaveta's involved in it, and she's next on his list! Save what you can, but move!

Somebody get his group's stuff, and load it into their wagon. I don't want him any more annoyed than he is now! Hurry!"

The girl behind the counter blanched and ran to the back room as a mad panic ensued. With trembling hands, she removed a wooden box from a desk drawer and extracted a glass bal from it.

Forcing herself to be calm, she placed her hands on the globe and concentrated.

"Mother Prioress, are you there?"

After a few seconds, she felt the mind of her superior slither into her sensorium.

"What is it, Sister Mandrine? Is that fat fool, Chudel, complaining about his dues again? Is he-"

"Mother Prioress, we have a problem. A Guild Questor is here, Grimm Afelnor by name, and he intends to destroy Mansion House in its entirety. I believe he's related to the Afelnor who all but destroyed-"

"I know who he is, fool! Get on with it!"

"I think he intends to attack the Priory next, Reverend Mother!"

"Of course he does, witless one. I should have known better than to trust that pompous bag of wind, Chudel, to protect my interests."

"Shal I return to the Priory, Reverend Mother?"

"Perhaps that is best," came the Prioress's dry, dusty mental message. "I owe you punishment for interrupting me, girl; you will pay for that transgression later."

With that, the mental connection was severed, and Mandrine quailed. She knew Lizaveta's punishments wel , but she knew better than to disobey the Prioress. As the sounds of panic outside the smal room grew into tumult, she packed the globe back in its box, and, tucking it under her arm, ran out to retrieve her effects from her own smal room.

As Quelgrum drove the wagon away from the blazing ruins of Mansion House, the young Questor looked back with some satisfaction at the destruction he had caused. A great evil had been destroyed here, and he had prevailed.

"Look out, Lizaveta, I'm coming!" he muttered, looking back at the road ahead. "Your time is coming to an end."

In a louder voice, Grimm asked, "What's the next town on the itinerary, General?"

"Brianston, Lord Baron," Quelgrum said after consulting his map. "I don't know much about it, but it should be a picnic after this bloody place."

"I think we'd better rest on the plain for a few days, General. We need some time for healing and recuperation, and I don't think Guy wil be happy until we get him back in his own body; if he's ever happy, that is."

"I agree, Lord Mage. I hate to admit it, but I'm not as young as I used to be, and that fight has real y taken it out of me."

"Brianston," the Questor mused. "It sounds like a nice, normal place to me."

"Don't bet on it," the General warned him. "I won't be happy until we're out of this whole damned region.

If we rest up on Blagor Hil , here, we should be able to spot any unwanted incursions wel in advance."

"We're in your hands, General. I just want you to know that I'm not about to take anything for granted, now. I've learnt a lot from this."

"We've al learnt a lot, Baron. I just want to say that I think you're beginning to shape up as a leader of men. Just think with your head a little more, and your guts a little less, and I think you'l be fine. It's a lesson I learned many years ago, and I've never forgotten it."

Grimm opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again. Nothing more needed to be said. Through overconfidence and misplaced trust, he had been lucky not to waste the life of a valued companion. He vowed never to make that mistake again. From now on, he would trust nobody.

The wagon rol ed onwards, past the now unmanned checkpoints, out of Yoren and onto the wide, open plain.

About the Author.

Alastair is employed as the quality manager at an electronics company. In addition to writing, he is a keen guitarist, singer and songwriter, and he also enjoys playing pool. Alastair lives in southeast England. To learn more about Alastair and his books, visit his website at: ajarchibald.wcpauthor.com/ .

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Other Books by Author Available at Whiskey Creek Press:.

www.whiskeycreekpress.com.

A Mage in the Making: Book 1 of The Chronicles of Grimm Dragonblaster Grimm Afelnor becomes a student in Arnor House. Shocked to learn that his grandfather was once a powerful mage. At the behest of his grandfather's betrayer, Grimm becomes a Mage Questor. He vows to fight for his Guild and for the name of his disgraced family.

Whiskey Shots Volume 4.

Two short stories. A man mistreats his wife and suffers the consequences. Another finds it hard to tel the difference between fantasy and reality -but is he truly mad, or does an ancient god hold the secret?

Weapon of the Guild: Book 2 of The Chronicles of Grimm Dragonblaster On his first Quest, Grimm is rewarded wel after he helps to retrieve a magical gem. Now a wealthy Baron and a Fifth Rank Mage Questor, Grimm feels confident when he is sent to tackle a General who abducts Guild Mages. However, things do not go to plan.

Questor: Book 3 of The Chronicles of Grimm Dragonblaster.

Mage Questor Grimm Afelnor and his companions find themselves in Haven, a steel fortress in the forbidding Shest Mountains, as the unwil ing guests of Armitage, the reborn avatar of a long-dead Technologist.