Lash frowned--word from the Master herself was that no harm was to come to that one. Dire consequences far worse than death were promised to whomever raised a sword to him. "Our Master said not to harm him, but she did not say we could not bind him. Hold him if you can. If elves get him, fine."

"Master Hans has reported Elradian troops are alsoon their way in force." Lantharum grinned, "It will be quite a show."

Lash knew Calain had led humans on a killing spree into Elrad then retreated to Newburg. Now, the remnants of Longforest power were headed towards the town. With his elves in Elradian uniforms attacking the druids and the real elven army on their way hunting for humans, blood was going to run in rivers. He wished he could sit on a rooftop and watch the carnage.

"Yes, indeed, it would be fun to watch.a He grinned then with a shake of his head, he said, aNo time--we have work to do. No matter the outcome of the battle, make sure all of our elven friends die then meet us two days north."

Nodding absently, Lantharum glanced over at the women and licked his lips. "There are more than enough slaves here. May I have a couple?"

"Not until Hans gets his pick. You'll get to look over what isn't taken when we meet. First, go kill some druids," Lash told him sternly.

The wizard scowled. "Save at least one good one for me. I tire of old women and mangled wenches. I serve you well, and Ideserve a decent female or two for my experiments!"

"You do good work for our Master," Lash corrected. "I will save a pretty one, unmarked.a He looked beyond him to the procession of hoarcs following the elves. "Your troops are leaving, perhaps you should be with them."

Lantarum held back a comment and bowed. "For the glory of our Master," he said formally. With a wave of his hand, he sent the ravens to wing then turned and walked off.

Lash waited until they had gone then turned to the women. Their crying had subsided; those near the unconscious one knelt with their heads turned away.

"Kalinara needs attention. May I be allowed to save her life?"

The woman who spoke knelt with as much dignity as one could. Her face was a mask as she voiced her request. Lash sensed she held some kind of power here in this flyspeck of a farming village. He did like the golden color of her hair and the fire in her blue eyes. Her sacklike peasant's clothes could be changed for more suitable translucent silk if her body held the same fine quality as her face did. This one he would keep for himself.

"You can heal her?" he asked lightly.

"I can tend to her with salve and bandages--she is bleeding to death."

Her voice held no hatred, just cold fact. Lash waved a hand at the hoarc near her.

"You, get this one up and collect what she needs. Do not unbind her until after you return.a To the woman, he said, "Any treachery, and a child dies."

"I am not going to try to escape," she assured him. The hoarc behind her jerked her to her feet by her wrists. Lash was amazed at how she could look so graceful getting up in such a manner. Breaking her was going to be fun.

He ordered for the women to be tied to each other by their necks and hobbled. By the time this was done, the golden-haired one returned with the hoarc carrying the basket of items she'd had him collect. Lash had his other wizard inspect the basket for anything magical or any weapons. Satisfied there was nothing but cloths and jars of ointment, he had the woman unbound to attend the one on the ground.

"Get ready to move out!" he barked. "Children in the wagons, slaves in front. Barkil, you and your hoarcs take the lead."

Watching over the assembly, he had his horse brought to him. There was a commotion as the hoarcs tried to get his now semi-conscious victim to her feet. The woman who had wrapped her wounds was trying to persuade them to let her in the wagon with the children.

Lash mounted and rode over to them.

"Put the wounded one out of her misery. This one goes in the slave line." He grinned.

The womanas eyes widened.

"Please let her live--Kalinara has done nothing. She will make a good slave," she pleaded.

"She's deformed." he told her with a smirk then nodded to the hoarc holding a sword to Kalinara's throat.

"Fresh meat!" the hoarc hissed and slashed her deep.

The woman who had just done her best to bandage her niece now watched her die like an animal. A hoarc flung her body over his shoulder and started off. A single tear ran down her face as she looked up at Lash.

"I am Thalansala. Jenesalinthia is my great-niece. Her husband is Eric Redman. Does this mean anything to you?"

"Should it?" Lash laughed, wondering if she was trying to be ransomed.

Her body was quaking in anger, but her voice remained even. "Sooner or later, the Red Man will find out what you've done here."

Lash leaned forward in his saddle. "And this is suppose to scare me?" he asked, never losing his grin.

He then noticed the hoarc that had been binding her ankles start to back off, casting a worried look at the elf. The other hoarcs also put a few steps between themselves and her.

The woman met Lash's gaze defiantly. "You now know who will kill you."

He gritted his teeth. One mention of a myth, and the hoarcs suddenly turned cowards.

"Let him come, I will destroy him. I am going to take great pleasure in flaying you, slave!" he spat. Glaring at the hoarcs, he growled, "Put her in line--move!a Making sure the hoarcs obeyed, he watched until the woman was tied to the last in line. With everyone in place, he got the column started north.

Through the eyes of the ravens, Lantharum watched the path of the druids and halshaken. Not wanting to fight druids in the woods where their power was greatest, he positioned his forces behind a rock wall with an open field before them. The elves were obedient, kneeling tight against the wall with the hoarcs. He cast a spell to obscure them and waited.

The wait wasn't long. On the far side of the field, four groups appeared. They walked cautiously in a line, andLantharum noted that, behind the armed humans and halshaken, robed figures accompanied each group. He knew at least a few, if not all, were wizards. He made the decision then not to send the hoarcs out. They would not survive, and there was little he could do without endangering himself.

Bending low, he dispelled his magic and said just loud enough for the elves to hear, "They are coming. On my command, the elves attack. Hoarcs, shoot arrows until the elves close on them. Remember, elves, the lives of your families depend on how well you fight."

One elf nodded grimly. "We know we will die. You hurt our families, and every one of us will return to haunt you."

"Noted, elf, " Lantharum said. He didn't fear ghosts or flimsy threats from a doomed elf. He did need their cooperation, so he managed to look sincere. Closing his eyes to look through those of the raven perched in the tree off to the side of the field, he saw the enemy had come halfway across.

"Attack!" he hissed.

"For our kin!" one of the elves yelled and jumped over the wall. The others poured after him, screaming their fear more than any real battle cry.

The raven watched the people in the middle of the field pause in confusion. They looked at each other as elves raced at them, waving swords. The confusion ended as arrows started raining down around them.

Few arrows hit. Shields came up, andwizards raised their arms to deflect the shafts to land harmlessly behind them. A few of the arrows turned in mid-air to go sailing back, nearly making it to the wall they were shot from. There was one last volley as the elves met them; a few elves fell as arrows struck their backs.

The elves didn't fare well at all. Being farmers, they were unaccustomed to battle. Though they outnumbered their foes, they fell like wheat before the scythe. The few who only defended themselves lasted a bit longer than the first swing of a sword. Even a scantily clad woman tore into them, beating and kicking them with her spinning staff and lightning-fast feet. The wizards watched carefully for any other attacks as the elves were slaughtered without any use of magic. This group was very organized.

Letting the ravens take flight, Lantharum opened a Gate to the main camp, which sat at their rendezous miles north of the village. Hustling the hoarcs through the shimmering oval in the air, he followed them and shut the magical portal.

He went down the row of tents to that of Hans, guarded by an elven female clad in thin white silk that covered her without hiding her shape beneath. Her eyes were fixed forward as she held a spear with both hands. She had no mind--her name, her very self had been burned out of her head. The only thing she knew were the commands given her.

Aware of this, Lantharum didn't attempt to enter the tent. Standing out of the zombie's reach, he called, "Master Hans, Lantharum here. I have come with news."

"Guard, allow him to enter."

There was no response from the woman, but Lantharum knew it was now safe to go in. As he passed her, he reached up to fondle her. Her flesh was warm and supple; the body was still alive. She had to be a fresh one; usually they became cold and stiff after a week. The ones that were a few weeks old deteriorated badly.

Pulling the tent flap aside, Lantharum found Hans lounging in his armchair. His light hair and handsome features made the wizard wonder why he had to remove women's minds to have his way with them. Another woman, this one human with thick dark hair, knelt beside him, holding the tray with his lunch on it. She wore the same transparent silk and had a much more rounded figure than the elf outside. The blank stare was the same.

Hans sat up, taking his feet from the footstool in front of him. Motioning to it, he said, "Lantharum, have a seat and tell me your news."

Obeying, the wizard took a long look at the curvy brunette before he shifted his attention to his master.

"Sir Lash has captured more elven slaves. I used the males to attack the oncoming druids. No hoarcs were seen, nor was I. I'm sorry to say none of the druids were killed--the elves were rather poor fighters."

Nodding briefly, Hans took a sip from his cup and put it back on the tray. "Is that all?"

"Tayan Montara was with them. I dared not cast magic."

Hans took on a thoughtful look. "Our Master said we could not touch him. The elves can, however. A troop of elves entered Newburg today--if he gets killed in the fighting then we are blameless."

"Should I assist in convincing the elves that humans are out to destroy them?" Lantharum asked.

"Our Master is taking care of that. The elven king has been convinced that all humans are against him. The governor in the province also believes firmly that all humans are their enemies. While they fight, our job is to get our forces deep into Elrad unseen and wait for our Master to give us orders. Lash is on his way?"

"Yes, with slaves and their children."

Looking at the slave, Hans told her, "Eat the food on that tray, drink from the cup.a The slave did as she was told, mechanically stuffing the food into her mouth.

"They last longer if you feed them," Hans noted. "We'll leave as soon as Lash arrives and we process his slaves. Go to Gast's camp outside Newburg, tell him to pull back and go north. Our friends at the river forks have done their work and will be joining us in the mountain caves until we are assembled. There we wait for the word to march on to Elrad."

Rising, Lantharum bowed. "Yes, master. Shall I return here?"

Hans rubbed his chin in thought. "No, return to Lash, tell him to collect all the slaves he can on his way here. We'll be needing them."

"For what?" Lantharum asked. Besides the two he had here, the wizard knew Hans had a dozen more that hadn't started looking bad yet.

Hans broke into a grin. Reaching over, he ran a hand over the brunette. "I have plans for them besides pleasure. You'll find out when the time comes."

Tayan stood amid the broken bodies, his sword clenched with white knuckles. The elf he looked down on was no soldier. First of all, the boy was too young. The calloused palms of the dead hands told him the boy was a farmer. The other bodies looked the same. Some were older, and a few were very old, much too old to be engaged in combat unless this was a last resort. The uniforms they wore were tattered. He walked through them searching for any signs of life, praying that one still lived to tell him why they had attacked. He had no such luck.

Being hot for hoarc blood after the rout at the river, he had believed too quickly that these elves were hoarc imitations when Mother Frieda and Sister Amber said they sensed evil in front of them. He slashed away freely, still seeing the smoldering bodies they had left behind. Now, as he gazed at the broken body of a plump elf, bile crept into his throat. They had heroically defeated a pack of farmers.

Scorpio returned to the middle of the field. Walking up to Trelem, he told the druid, "There is no sign of the archers, they must have fled."

"There were no tracks leaving, they had to have left by magical means," Odif added.

Joining them, Amber offered, "Once we killed the elves, I no longer sensed evil."

"Those elves were not evil," Odif snapped. "They left us no choice but to kill them.a Waving her staff at the bodies, she said, "They looked more frightened than fierce, like they were desperate."

Scorpio snorted. "If this is Elrad's army, they are desperate."

"The question is, why did they attack us?" Trelem asked. "We have no quarrel with elves. We've lived in peace for quite some time."

"Maybe they thought the halshaken were hoarcs," Entaurus suggested.

Tayan shook his head sadly. "Not likely.a Even farmers could tell a halshaken from a hoarc. He was still a High Lord of Elrad. He had killed his own people. Gripping his sword tightly, he choked, aThis shouldn't have happened.a Hearing hoarc and halshaken used in the same sentence, the halshaken named Donatelo tapped Odif on the arm and asked for an explanation. As Odif explained it to him, Trelem called everyone together. They were all upset about the battle--Gloredaniel was in tears and Tayan looked like he was going to cry at any moment. Scorpio felt a bit jealous when Odif hugged him, but understood they were old friends. Zit just stared blankly at the bodies scattered about.

With everyone gathered together, Tayan announced, "Gather wood for a pyre. These elves will be treated with respect. If any other elves attack us, we try to stop them first and, if possible, render them unconscious. We will do everything we can to keep from killing them."

"And if we can't stop them?" Entaurus asked.

"If there is no other way then we kill,a Trelem stated. Turning to Shilo, he asked, "Have you seen a village close by in your flights?"

Shilo bobbed his head. "Yup, not too far ahead. Want me to go check it?"

Tayan spoke up. "Not by yourself. Odif, Zit, go with him. Take no chances, see what you can find out and return to us. We'll be walking north once we're done here."

Nudging Odif with an elbow, Shilo asked, "Hey, you going to fly with me?"

Looking at him quizzically, she said, "I won't be able to help you in bird form."

"Then just make yourself a pair of wings like mine," he said, flapping his briefly.

Odif was about to say she couldn't do that, she could only assume the shap of animals found in nature. She then realized that Shilo's people all had wings. She hadnever thought of taking on the form of another people, but it could be done. With a human shape, she could cast her spells from the air or fight if need be.

"I'll need to study you first. Remove your armor and tunic."

"Ohh, this sounds fun!" he beamed and stripped to his waist. He twitched and asked her to scratch him in a particular spot as Odif concentrated in his musculature. She rubbed his barrel-like chest, asking him to flex his wing so she could tell which sets of muscles were used in flight. She found his sides were heavily endowed to provide thrust. On his back were two extra sets, as well as additlonal pectoral muscles at mid-ribs. Besides that, his shoulder blades were much longer, the bones providing pivot joints. The wings themselves were thick and had two elbow joints, but other than that they were essentially bird's wings.

Once she had his physique memorized, she handed her staff to Amber and her shirt to Scorpio. Scorpio tried to stand in front of her to give her a bit of themodesty she seemed to lack as she closed her eyes and began the transformation. As he watched, she grew a bit shorter and wider, and two white oblong shapes sprouted from her back. Ripples of muscle appeared below her breasts as the oblong shapes blossomed into a beautiful set of white-feathered wings. Opening her eyes, she flapped her new acquisitions a couple times, curving them around her body to view them.

"All right, now you look normal!" Shilo grinned.

"Here goes," she announced nervously, and motioned everyone back. Pumping her wings in earnest, she sent small blasts of wind down and away as she lifted off her feet. Her face screwed up in concentration, she moved forward, hanging a few feet off the ground then slowly started to move away and climb skyward. Shilo took off much more gracefully with a fraction of the effort.

Watching them, Zit cleared his throat. "I think I'll run.a He melted into the shape of a cougar and sprinted away.

At first, flying was hard work. When Odif was in bird form, flying seemed as natural as walking. Flying like this, she had to concentrate on every movement of her wings. Shilo stayed just above her, coaching her on when to pump her wings and when to set them to glide. He gave her brief instructions on how to turn and land as a collection of log huts appeared below them.

"Me first," he told her. Before she could say it would be safer together, he turned over on his back and dropped straight down.

Sure she would end up falling if she tried that, Odif opted to tuck her wings in and dive after him. She spread them again as the treetops came closer and found that her downward speed was a bit more than she had planned on. Below her, Shilo shot down the street not more than a few feet off the ground. At the end of the street, he pulled up sharply to miss a long hut that looked like a meeting hall.

Odif was falling fast. Her wings tried to pin themselves against her back; straining muscles, she cupped them, letting the outer portions grip the air. Shewas becoming horizontal, but not fast enough as she passed over the last trees and into the village.

Her impulse was to grab her wings and use her arms to help pull them out flat. At the moment, she had them out in front of her for balance; andshe knew bending back would send her into a spin, and she'd hit the ground for sure. As she dropped below the rooftops, the street came up to meet her. With a hard pull on aching muscles, she grunted in effort and caught more air in wings that were trying to tear themselves off her back.

She leveled out a scant knee-level distance from the rough gravel racing by underneath that would rip her skin to shreds if she hlt it at thls speed. Blasting out a breath of relief that she wasn't going to be ground into paste, she looked up and saw the meeting hut racing at her.