Subject: dargonz vol6n1

From: SilentElf <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 07 Sep 93 12:39:42 EDT

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 --   DargonZine Volume 6, Issue 1        05/27/93          Cir 1220   --
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 -- Archives at FTP.EFF.ORG (192.88.144.4) in pub/journals/DargonZine  --
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 --                            Contents                                --
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  Place Unto Wrath             Max Khaytsus           Yule 12-18, 1014
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1                         Place Unto Wrath
                           by Max Khaytsus
               (b.c.k.a. <[email-masked]>)

      "We've been  through this before,"  Rien said with a  sigh. "He's
 only a Baron. There's nothing to be worried about."
      "Yes, but you deal with nobility every day."
      "No I don't," Rien protested. "Maybe once every few days..."
      "That doesn't help me any," Kera answered.
      "Just act normal. You did fine with Count Connall."
      "I saw him three times during our entire stay and he got stranger
 every time."
      "Really?" Rien asked. "What makes you say that?"
      "Isn't it  obvious? He's  into swords and  archers and  duels and
 contests. He even challenged  you to a match! I bet  you he won't live
 to see thirty!"
      "It's only  a hobby.  He didn't appear  suicidal to  me. Besides,
 he's dead already,"  Rien said, referring to the news  he had heard of
 the young  Count's head  being delivered  to the  Crown Castle  by the
 Beinison ambassador.
      "See, what did I tell you?" Kera laughed. The news of the count's
 death during  his diplomatic  mission to Beinison  reached them  a few
 weeks back  while they  were still  in Sharks' Cove  and even  in that
 city, contaminated  by crime and corruption  to its core, the  mood of
 the people turned dark at this signal of the coming war.
      Rien  laughed as  well, although  there was  nothing funny  about
 Count Connall's death. It was a way to relieve tension, as the war had
 already began. "I don't consider the Beinisons cutting his head off to
 be a hobby. Those are the fortunes of war."
      Kera fell silent for some time  and the horses continued down the
 road. After they left Sharks' Cove in Firil, Rien decided to go to the
 Duchy of  Arvalia to see some  old friends, while waiting  for the war
 between Baranur and Beinison to take a definite turn. They were out on
 the road now for almost two months  and according to Rien, less than a
 days ride from Valdasly Keep, their destination. It appeared that Rien
 had known Baron ReVell Dower, the  man whose lands they now travelled,
 for a long time, but as always, he neglected to give all the details.
      "Who do you think will win the war?" Kera asked.
      Rien remained silent for a while. "Will it make a difference?"
      "Well, sure. You can be out of a job."
      "You assume that Haralan Tallirhan pays for what I do..."
      "Well, even if  he doesn't, if the Beinisons win,  we will all be
 subject to their control."
      "Being subject  to someone's control  is a relative  thing," Rien
 said. "You're subject  to Baranurian control now. A king  is a king, a
 bureaucrat a bureaucrat. What's the difference?"
      "But in Beinison there's no freedom. They practice slavery..."
      "Not the Evil Empire story  again," Rien sighed. "Don't you think
 they view Baranur the same way?"
      "How?"
      "Well, how'd  you like to  visit Sharks' Cove not  knowing anyone
 there? This  is a perfect example  of a population out  of control and
 the government not  doing anything to fix it. Many  say that your odds
 of getting  killed in Sharks'  Cove are  better than anywhere  else on
 this side of Cherisk. And if a  murder takes place out in the streets,
 the town guard  will simply dump the body into  the bay unless someone
 steps forward to claim it and pays  them to investigate. Is that how a
 town guard is to function? What about Nistak in the south of..."
      "You support them?" Kera asked, shocked.
      "Beinison? Not at all. I don't support either side. I simply made
 the  point that  each  side has  an opinion  which  is equally  valid.
 Morality always stood on  shaky ground. Who is to say  I am more moral
 than those I fight?"
      "You still haven't answered my question."
      "Who I think  will win the war?" Rien fell  silent once again. "I
 don't know. Wars  are unpredictable. Sometimes one man  can change the
 tide  of a  battle and  like I  told you,  it makes  little difference
 should  Baranur lose.  Untar  won't  be able  to  enslave two  million
 people. He may  make an example of  a town here or there,  but for the
 most part life will go on as it always has."
      "Is there someone you want to win?"
      "I  would prefer  Baranur to  keep its  lands. No  change is  the
 easiest change to deal with. Do you have an opinion?"
      "I want Baranur to win. It's my home."
      "An understandable choice," Rien nodded.
      "I'd rather there was no war," Kera sighed.
      That was something Rien could agree  with as well. War, no matter
 for what  reason, brought more  pain and harm in  the long run.  If he
 could, he would try to stop it, but he had not the power to do so. The
 war was  on. Many cities  in the east had  fallen and before  a victor
 could be declared, many more would fall, perhaps on both sides. All he
 could do  now was go home  and make sure  that his own tribe  would be
 ready, should the events come to the worst.
      "It's too late for hoping," he sighed. "Just wish for a favorable
 outcome now."
      They rode in silence for a while longer, stopping at the crest of
 the hill  over which  the road  passed. Ahead of  them spread  a green
 valley with a small village at the  foot of the hills and a stronghold
 a few leagues across the valley, on the side of the mountain.
      "The keep was  built almost two centuries ago,"  Rien said. "Back
 then this was the frontier with  barbarian tribes coming down from the
 west and the  north. All sorts of things that  became legends over the
 years."
      "You mean like you?"
      Rien  smirked and  looked back  into  the valley.  "Even me."  He
 examined  the  dense  forest  to  the south.  It  covered  the  valley
 uniformly, a  vast dark green venerable  mass, reaching as far  as the
 eye could see. "That's Charnelwood. The name means `Darkling Forest'."
      Kera reached out to touch Rien. "I'd rather live in a house."
      He put his  arm around her, in spite of  the awkwardness of doing
 this on horseback. "It's my home -- I was born here."
      "Why is it called that?" Kera asked.
      "The forest?" He looked at her. "Charnelwood?"
      "Darkling Forest?"
      Rien  took a  deep breath.  "Legend says  that demons  roam these
 lands. Sometimes people  will go into the forest and  never come back.
 Some come back years  later, as if only a few days  in their lives had
 passed. Locals  say that they  can hear the  demons at night  and some
 even claim to see them."
      "You're kidding, right?" Kera said.
      "I'm not. No one  ever walks on the south side  of the road. Just
 look at it. See  the way the grass is barely  worn there? A generation
 ago this road was  a good ten yards closer to the  edge of the forest.
 To the locals, the legends of demons are very real."
      Kera shivered and locked her arms around Rien even tighter.
      They remained  quiet for a  time, watching over the  valley, then
 Rien raised  his arm and  pointed off into  the distance. "Do  you see
 that mountain with the flat top?"
      "The big one?"
      "The same. That's Mount Voldronnai, the only volcano this side of
 Magnus. It has been dormant for over a century now."
      "Looks just like any other mountain.  Why don't we come back when
 it's doing something?"
      Rien smiled and kicked Kelsey into motion. "Could be a long wait.
 Volcanos have been known to sleep for centuries."
      "Then  we definitely  shouldn't wait,"  Kera guided  Hasina after
 him. "I've got things to do... Rien, I still don't know what to say to
 the Baron..."
      "Just act normal."
      "What's normal?"
      "Cut it out or I'll leave you in the village."
      Kera sighed. "I'll just keep quiet and out of sight."
      Two hours later, in late  afternoon, they rode into Valdasly Keep
 on  the side  of the  mountain. Rien  and Kera  dismounted as  a guard
 approached them.
      "Please inform his Lordship Baron  Dower that Sir Keegan requests
 an audience," Rien told the guard before he had the chance to speak.
      The guard froze in place for a moment, considering his options --
 Rien was not dressed as knight normally would -- then quickly returned
 to the keep.
      "Must be new here," Rien shrugged to Kera. "He forgot to bow."
      "Huh?"
      "He didn't recognize  the name," Rien explained.  "The name Dower
 was changed by marriage. The original name was Keegan."
      "So now you want them to bow to you?"
      "It'd be nice," Rien smirked.
      "After all that stuff you said about ego..."
      "Got to have fun at someone's expense."
      "Like mine?"
      "You have little amusement value."
      "Then I guess I'll be sleeping in a different room tonight."
      "I'll have them not give you blankets."
      "And you think that will bring me to you?"
      "I certainly hope so."
      "My price is higher than that of a blanket."
      "That's good. You do more than just lie around."
      Kera embraced him with a laugh. "What are you going to pay me?"
      "I am not paying you. The League  will pay you as soon as the war
 is over."
      "Does  it matter  which  side wins?"  Kera's expression  suddenly
 became serious.
      "I don't think so. It depends on who gets killed, but in the long
 run I suppose it will..."
      Kera sighed. "I don't know why  I keep starting to talk about the
 war. It scares me like there's no tomorrow."
      Rien  nodded. "Not  thinking  about  it won't  make  it go  away,
 either."
      "Neither will thinking about it," she said.
      "Rien!" a voice called to them and  they turned to see a tall man
 in his early forties approaching with the guard.
      "ReVell," Rien  smiled and gripped  forearms with the  man. "It's
 been a while."
      "It  has indeed,"  the man  answered,  then glanced  over at  the
 guard, standing  behind him, watching  the exchange. "It's  all right,
 Crane. Sir Keegan is an old friend."
      The guard bowed politely and returned  to his post by the wall of
 the keep.
      "ReVell,  this  is  Kera,  my apprentice,"  Rien  introduced  his
 companion. "Kera, meet Baron ReVell Dower."
      They exchanged greetings and then all three went inside the keep,
 leaving a servant to deal with the horses.
      "What's  this  with a  knight  having  an apprentice?  What  ever
 happened to squires?" ReVell asked in the great hall of the keep.
      "This world has  too many squires and knights," Rien  said with a
 sigh. "Enough to justify having a war to reduce the number..."
      "Now, Rien..."
      "Well, it's true,  isn't it? Untar thinks he  has enough. Haralan
 thinks he has enough. They fight."
      ReVell shook his head. "You know that's not how it works."
      "We never agreed in our philosophy on politics," Rien said.
      "No, we did not," ReVell  agreed, "but that still doesn't explain
 why you have an apprentice instead of a squire." His voice was strict,
 as if questioning a child.
      Rien looked  back at  Kera who was  walking quietly  behind them.
 "She is not a combatant. She will do better with a normal life."
      "With you?"
      Rien threw a sideways glance at ReVell and the Baron laughed.
      "I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I made an assumption."
      "No, no," Rien sighed. "You're quite right..."
      They all ascended the staircase in silence and ReVell told one of
 the servants to show Rien and Kera to their rooms, adding to Rien that
 spring and summer  had become tourist season with  every other soldier
 in  Arvalia coming  to Valdasly  for training.  "The castle  is almost
 full, the barracks  are almost full. I had to  order an extra building
 built so  the soldiers won't sleep  in the barn, not  that the cavalry
 minds..." When  the servant was ready  to show Rien and  Kera to their
 rooms, the Baron left.  "I will be at the Arena,"  he told Rien. "Come
 down when you're settled. We have much to talk about."
      Rien and  Kera followed  the servant down  the corridor  to their
 rooms, set  next door  to each  other. Both  faced south,  towards the
 great green  forest that stretched  across the valley. Rien  paused at
 the window, looking out at Charnelwood. Kera stood behind him, but did
 not want to disturb him.
      "So is the Baron that bad?" Rien suddenly turned.
      Kera shook her head. "He didn't do more than greet me."
      "I'll take that as a `no'."
      "Why were you two arguing over whether I should be a squire or an
 apprentice?"
      "The Baron  is a soldier  first and  foremost. He feels  the best
 defense is a  strong offense. You will  hear a lot about  the war from
 him."
      "It doesn't sound like you two are very good friends," Kera said.
      "We  learned  to respect  each  other's  quirks," Rien  answered,
 putting his saddlebag on a chair. "I don't remind him of the harm that
 war does  and he doesn't  comment on how  I treat knighthood.  Are you
 hungry?"
      Kera shook her head. "I'll make it to dinner."
      "Then let me show you around," Rien said.
      They walked  around the castle  for a while, Rien  describing the
 significance of paintings,  busts, weapons and armor  setup in various
 rooms and corridors, then they went outside.
      "You sound as if you live there," Kera noted to Rein.
      "I did, for a while," he  answered. "Obviously I still visit. Let
 me show you the Arena as well."
      "The Arena?" Kera asked, hearing the term for the second time.
      "A lot  of people  are trained  here for  the Duke's  troops. The
 Baron's military influence  extends over the entire  Duchy. He himself
 became a knight  at a relatively young age. Perhaps  that's the reason
 he's so deeply involved with warfare."
      "So you didn't find Count Connall very strange?"
      "Not so much strange as  frightening. I am concerned that someone
 so young would worship warfare."
      As they  turned the corner  on the west  side of the  building, a
 large field revealed itself. It  was partitioned with small fences and
 men, alone and in groups, practiced in different areas.
      "How did you come to know the Baron if you two are so different?"
 Kera asked.
      "His father introduced us."
      "So he knows you're not..."
      "He does," Rien answered calmly. "But his son does not."
      A group of a dozen men in armor ran by, heading for the field and
 Rien pointed to a platform stretching parallel to the keep at the edge
 of the Arena. "Up there. You'll see better from above."
      Kera climbed up the narrow  ladder leading onto the platform with
 Rien  directly behind  her.  They walked  quietly  down the  platform,
 watching the action  in the Arena. Below them two  heavily armored men
 entered  one of  the  fenced off  areas and  drew  their swords.  Kera
 watched their match in awe until one knocked the other off balance and
 the fight ended.
      "Rien?"
      "Hmmm?" he continued looking at the men below.
      "What if I want to become a knight?"
      He turned his head. "Why?"
      "I've been thinking about what the Baron said."
      "I meant, what do you expect to gain by it?"
      "A silly title, I guess."
      "Silly is right," Rien turned back  as the two men prepared for a
 second match.
      "I'm serious, Rien. I want to learn."
      "To fight? You don't need a title for that."
      "Why are you against it?"
      "I don't think this is something you need."
      Kera's eyes blazed with anger.  "I am perfectly capable of making
 my  own  decisions!" Her  exclamation  was  loudly punctuated  by  the
 restarting of the fight below.
      "The decision  is as  much for  me as it  is for  yourself," Rien
 said. "I will not have a squire for the wrong reason."
      "Then how do you want me to convince you?"
      Rien had  to think about  the answer he  would give. He  was very
 much against Kera's wish to be a knight, but at the same time, did not
 want to be unreasonable. She deserved  a chance to explain herself and
 some time to  deal with and think  about what she needed  and what she
 thought she wanted. "By  sunset tomorrow I want you to  give me a good
 reason for me to take you as a squire."
      Kera thought for a moment. "I can give you one right now."
      "If it's not good, I won't give you a second chance."
      "It's good," Kera  said, her voice growing more  confident as she
 spoke.  "I want  to become  a knight  because I  want to  be somebody.
 Because most  great women became great  because of the men  they stood
 by! Because I don't know who my parents  are and had to grow up in the
 streets!  I  am a  commoner  with  no way  to  progress  in this  damn
 chauvinistic society, other than by an ability to fight!"
      "Quite true," Rien nodded.
      "I am not finished!" Kera yelled at him, but did not go on.
      "Well, continue," Rien prompted her. "I apologize."
      "I was  going to call  you a few  choice names," Kera  sighed. "I
 guess I'm not ready..."
      "You do  realize there  are not  a lot of  women who  choose this
 path. That attaches a certain stigma to those who do."
      "I know," Kera nodded. "I'm willing to face that."
      Footsteps  sounded on  the  platform and  Rien  glanced over  his
 shoulder. "We'll discuss this later," he told Kera, straightening up.
      "Sir Keegan!"  the visitor's  voice boomed.  "I've heard  of your
 sudden arrival! What brings you here?"
      "Sir Brand!" Rien greeted the man.
      Kera  watched them  for  a  minute, then  went  further down  the
 platform, watching the field and wondering about her choice. She could
 tell  by Rien's  eyes that  he had  an answer  before she  was halfway
 through her reasons. She turned to look back at the two men, wondering
 what  that  decision was.  The  choice  that  she  made was  rash  and
 impulsive, but  she also believed in  everything she said and  that at
 this point it was one of the few paths open to her.
      Rien remained busy  the rest of the afternoon and  Kera spent her
 time watching  the men practice in  the field. They met  again shortly
 before dinner, but before they could  talk, Baron Dower walked over to
 them. He eyed  Rien critically, examining his plain clothes  -- a well
 worn tunic, pants and dusty boots. "What is this?"
      Rien turned, watching the Baron as the man walked around him.
      "You look  like a peasant!  This will  never do, Rien.  You're my
 knight,  back  home for  the  first  time in  two  years  and look  at
 yourself! You look like a commoner.  A landed knight!" He scolded Rien
 as one would a little boy caught making trouble. "I want you to change
 into armor, chain  in the very least, sword,  cape, crest, everything!
 And don't bother showing up for dinner before that."
      "Yes, Sir," Rien  muttered as the Baron left,  looking after him,
 clearly unhappy, but not hostile.
      "Is that  how I have  to talk to you  to get anywhere  with you?"
 Kera's voice reminded Rien of her presence.
      "You learn to make sacrifices for family," Rien sighed. "Come on.
 You may as well look civil, too."
      At dinner, after  they changed, Kera managed to spend  only a few
 minutes with Rien before a group of men dragged him off to the far end
 of the table. She talked some with  the people who sat by her, all the
 while looking to the  far end of the table, where  Rien sat with Baron
 Dower  and other  decorated men.  She was  both angry  that they  were
 separated, but glad  she had the opportunity to be  alone and think. A
 lot  of the  discussion was  about  the war  and the  battle plans  of
 Baranur and the cities that had fallen in the east.
      Kera hurriedly finished her meal and  went up to her room. Before
 long there  was a knock  at the door and  Rien entered. She  looked at
 him, trying not to betray what  she was feeling. Somehow she could not
 get over  the bitterness  of their  last talk.  She wanted  to achieve
 something during her life and he was blocking her ability to do so.
      "I'm sorry  about dinner," Rien  said, sitting down.  "I couldn't
 say `no'."
      Kera shrugged. "I understand." She tried to, any way.
      Rien nodded. "About what we discussed earlier today..."
      Kera looked  up and challenged his  gaze. She wanted him  to make
 the decision for her. She knew he was right when he said that women do
 not often become  knights and that it  would not be an  easy path, but
 she did want to take it, in spite of the fear and difficulties it held
 for her.
      Rien stood back up to pace, as  he often did at times like these.
 "Do you realize what you asked for?"
      "I think so."
      "Do  you  understand  the   restrictions?  The  limitations?  The
 duties?"
      "I know it won't be easy."
      "In training  to become a knight  you'll have to learn  more than
 combat. Arts  and philosophy are  equally important. You will  have to
 understand  specific  virtues  and  carry rigid  codes  of  honor  and
 morality."
      "Do you do all of that?"
      Rien paused. "I'd like to think  of myself as an honorable, moral
 person. By the standards under which I grew up, anyway."
      "What about the way you killed Sir Quinn?"
      "There's no  honor among thieves," Rien  said without hesitation.
 "This too  is a part  of the morality.  `Thou shalt be  everywhere and
 always  the champion  of  the  Right and  Good  against Injustice  and
 Evil'," he quoted the Baranurian  code of knights. "Sometimes you have
 to let evil  be your good, so  your tasks are achieved,  and not worry
 about how you  reached your goal until later, when  you are judged for
 your actions. Is  this something you can live with?  Not being able to
 turn down  a plea  for help?  Not having the  privilege to  overlook a
 wrong?"
      "If I don't try, I'll never know."
      Rien turned  to look out the  window at the darkness  outside. He
 felt he was being defensive explaining why  he did what he did. He was
 not the one on trial here. Kera  was. It was a decision about her that
 needed to be made.  He knew what he wanted. He  feared what he thought
 was right. He was no knight, although he held the title. He would have
 acted differently if he believed in  the code. He would have done what
 Arvel had  done upon encountering  Quinn, but  he chose to  handle the
 situation  differently --  not by  honor, but  by cunning.  He quickly
 turned,  grabbing  hold of  Kera's  arm  and  pulled her  to  himself,
 embracing  and kissing  her, much  to  her surprise.  She resisted  at
 first, then put her arms around him, feeling his arms under her tunic.
 Was  this a  sign of  acceptance? In  her arousal  she tried  removing
 Rien's tunic, but he pushed her away.
      "You can't do this if you're a squire."
      Kera took a few steps back in frustration. Her shocked expression
 changed to barely visible tears. "Why are you trying to scare me off?"
      "Because I want you to understand  what it is you asked for. It's
 not a  romantic dream or a  game. You can  never go back. As  a squire
 you'll receive  less respect from knights  than from a commoner.  As a
 woman you may receive none."
      "But if I make it!"
      "You'll still  be a woman knight,  never quite as good  as a man,
 never the image of the legend!"
      "The Baron doesn't seem to have the problem!"
      "The Baron knows  that the value of a soldier  is above the value
 of the soldier's  gender! He doesn't care who holds  the sword so long
 as they can fight. And fight on his side!"
      "Then why can't you have the same respect for me?"
      "Because I  don't want you to  make a mistake. I  didn't become a
 knight because I  wanted to. I became one because  it was a necessity.
 You don't have to live the same life."
      "But I want to!"
      Rien sighed.  He had no  doubt that she  did, but he  feared what
 that meant  both to her and  to him. They were  already from different
 worlds. This would  only serve to make them more  different. "I'll ask
 ReVell to find you a sponsor tomorrow."
      "What about you?"
      "I'm personally involved."
      "But you just said it would have to stop."
      "I don't think I could remain objective."
      "I think you can," Kera protested. She wanted to be a knight, but
 she  did not  want to  lose Rien  in the  process. He  saved her  from
 Liriss, something she  wanted to happen for years. He  took her in and
 protected her and helped her and  taught her new things. She wanted to
 continue to learn and she wanted him to teach her.
      Rien studied Kera. "I'm glad you believe in me, but..."
      "No, wait. What are you afraid of? Getting the urge to sleep with
 me? What about  when I become a  knight? Would you sleep  with a woman
 knight?"
      The question had been forced. "Is our sleeping together normal?"
      "Why isn't it?  Men and women who're attracted to  one another do
 it all the time!"
      Rien lowered his  head. "Kera, I'll outlive you  by centuries. In
 twenty or thirty years, when your hair  is grey, I will look every bit
 as I do now."
      Tears appeared in her eyes. "Don't you think I know that?"
      "We're from  different worlds. What  kind of  a life can  we have
 together? How could this have gone as far as it did?"
      Kera sat down. "That night in the forest, after we left Dargon, I
 wasn't really interested in you...I just wanted the sex."
      "And after you got it?"
      "I don't know.  I was tired of  all the damn pity  and sympathy I
 was getting from you. I guess all  I needed was a little spark to fall
 in love with you."
      Rien did  not move,  still standing  by the  window where  he had
 stopped. "I can't permit myself to admit that I care. I'll only end up
 hurting you in a relationship such as this."
      Kera turned away from Rien, but she  did not try to hide her pain
 from him. She could  hear the pain in his voice  and agreed with every
 word he said, but  could not bring herself to face  the reality of the
 situation. Were she giving advice to someone else, she would urge them
 to forget it and live their own  life, but coming to the same decision
 for  herself was  almost  impossible.  She turned  back  to Rien,  not
 wanting this  to be the last  day of their involvement.  "Can you just
 turn around and walk away as if this never happened?"
      "No," Rien shook his head. He did  not need the time to think. He
 knew the problem well. "I know better, but I can't."
      At least he was being honest. "Then what do you want to do?"
      "I'd be lying if I said I knew."
      "Then why don't you take me as  your squire and we'll see what to
 do next..."
      "I don't like temporary solutions," Rien said.
      "I'm willing to listen to more lasting ones."
      "I don't have any. None that I want to use."
      "Then why not do it this way and see how it goes?"
      "Because it'll only get harder."
      "I know," she answered. "I don't expect it to be simple." She got
 up and  approached him. "It's going  to hurt us both  sooner or later,
 but I don't want it to be today."
      Rien studied Kera for a moment longer. "I'll talk with ReVell. We
 can have the ceremony tomorrow."
      Kera put her arms around him. "Thank you."
      Rien returned the  embrace. "Don't thank me yet. You  may come to
 hate me for this."
      She turned him and pushed him down on the bed, kissing him again.
 He did not resist. "One last time," Kera pulled at his tunic.

                             *       *       *

      "I just don't understand you," ReVell Dower complained to Rien.
      "I'm afraid I don't understand  myself either," Rien answered. "I
 find these  days that I surprise  myself more often than  those around
 me."
      The  two men  stepped into  the court  yard of  castle, from  the
 archway  leading to  the great  hall,  among the  dispersing crowd  of
 people. Rien stopped abruptly and looked back at Kera, standing at the
 far end  of the room. She  smiled and he let  a ghost of a  smile come
 across his face.  It was official now. She was  his squire. He quickly
 turned and hurried after the Baron.
      "It  wasn't because  of what  I said  yesterday, was  it?" ReVell
 asked, glancing sideways.
      "Not really," Rien answered, "but  I think it hurried the process
 along."
      "I'm glad  you agreed  with me," ReVell  said. "It's  unseemly to
 have a knight followed around by an apprentice. People talk."
      "I  know," Rien  sighed.  "They  did. This  was  the only  viable
 option."
      "Are you glad you did it?"
      "I don't know. Only time will tell."
      "Rien,   there's   one   more   thing..."   The   Baron   paused,
 uncomfortable. "This is rather hard for me to say and I realize I have
 no business bringing it up, but  according to my servants you and Kera
 slept in your room last night."
      Rien looked  away. "Look, I can  only deal with one  problem at a
 time. Don't you think I know what the problems are?"
      "I  think you  should think  about your  position and  how you're
 using it.  Now, if one  knight took another's  squire to bed,  I would
 look the other way, but your  own squire? Do you realize the magnitude
 of a scandal you can cause?"
      "I know. I'm working on it. It's not just me."
      ReVell shook  his head. "I ordered  my people not to  discuss it.
 Please don't give them a reason to."
      "I won't," Rien promised.
      "`Thou shalt never  lie and shalt remain faithful  to thy pledged
 word.'"
      "I won't do anything to embarrass you or myself here."
      "All right."
      The two men continued walking along the castle wall.
      "Rien, I must talk to you about  the war. The Duke has charged me
 with  building and  leading the  forces he  is to  contribute to  King
 Haralan's army  in Leftwich and Bivar.  I know your skills.  I want to
 assign you a detachment."
      "Please don't ask me, I won't accept," Rien said.
      "`Thou shalt make war  against thine enemies without cessation',"
 the Baron reminded him.
      "The Beinison aren't my enemies. Those who attack my people are."
      "`Thou  shalt love  and uphold  the  country in  which thou  wast
 born.'"
      "My country is the forest south of here," Rien said.
      "You know  the country  those words  words represent  is Baranur.
 They always  have, to  all who  have sworn the  oath. `Thou  shalt not
 recoil before thine enemy.'"
      "Stop quoting the pledge to me,"  Rien said, realizing he did the
 same thing to  Kera the night before. "The entire  staff has been told
 to stand down.  We were all told to  leave and stay out of  it. I hear
 some people even went to Duurom to pass the time."
      "Everyone?" ReVell asked, just to be sure.
      "Some couriers  are still on, but  it won't last much  longer. We
 can't be expected to keep order in time of war."
      "So  you're here  just to  visit  home?" ReVell  said, with  some
 disappointment in his voice.
      "Just like I told you yesterday. I'm here to restore old ties and
 make sure my home will be safe."
      ReVell glanced around  and together with Rien  moved further from
 the castle. "Flint Venture is due in  any day now. I wanted to ask him
 to talk with the tribes, find out what  we can count on. I pray to any
 deity that  will listen that  the war never come  this far, but  if it
 does, I want to  know that everyone is ready for  it. Perhaps it would
 be better if you talked to them."
      "That's what I'm here for," Rien  said in a low voice. "I'll have
 to arrange  everything tonight. I want  to be ready by  the time Flint
 arrives."
      Flint Venture was somewhat of a local legend, a commoner hero who
 one day picked up a sword to right all wrongs that bandits and looters
 caused in  the mountains. With  time he attracted  a band of  men much
 like himself  and restored  order to the  wilderness roads  where town
 guards and constables did not travel and the Ducal Guard did not often
 pass. In  time he  met and  became an  unofficial liaison  between the
 forest  elves  and  those  few  outsiders  who  knew  of  the  tribe's
 existence. He and his people now  guarded the region for a good decade
 and in that time came to  be friends with the secrets that Charnelwood
 hid.
      "Rien?" ReVell yanked his companion's arm. "Pay attention."
      "Sorry.  I was  thinking what  can be  done if  the war  comes to
 Arvalia. I understand Pyridain and Westbrook have already fallen."
      "That's  why it's  so critical  that I  gather the  men for  Duke
 Glavenford," ReVell stressed.  "He wants the troops  backing the heavy
 infantry in Leftwich in two months!"
      "Glavenford? Jastrik's cousin? The short one?"
      "The same. Duke Jastrik was killed  a few months ago. Haven't you
 heard?"
      "No. Who was it? Did they catch the killer?"
      "I  don't know,"  ReVell admitted.  "Last I  heard, it  was being
 `handled'."
      Rien  nodded at  the news,  not  really giving  it much  thought.
 "Let's hope  it doesn't come  to having to  defend Arvalia, but  if it
 does,  we'll be  ready.  I'll leave  now  and let  you  know what  the
 decision is."
      "Very well. I will see you at dinner, then."
      "I doubt I'll make it back," Rien  said. "I may have to spend the
 night in the forest."

                             *       *       *

      As the lunch  time ceremony ended, Kera waited  patiently for Sir
 Bonhan to  come for her.  She watched Rien and  Baron Dower go  off to
 talk  in the  court yard,  deeply occupied  in their  discussion. Rien
 turned at  the doorway and  looked in  her direction. Kera  smiled and
 noticed a trace of a smile on  his face, but he then turned and walked
 out of the great hall after the Baron.
      She looked  about the chamber,  studying the faces of  the people
 around her. Someone  greeted her. Another person  congratulated her on
 her new status. Finally a stout muscular man to who she was introduced
 early in  the morning walked  up to her.  "Follow me, Kera."  She did.
 This was  Sir Bonhan,  the man  in charge of  the Arena  outside. Rien
 introduced them  at breakfast and  told Kera  that she will  spend the
 week under his supervision in the  fields. Sir Bonhan was in charge of
 all the  squires and  men-at-arms and  even the  knights who  used the
 Arena.
      "I want to see  how well you can use a sword  before I assign you
 to a group,"  Sir Bonhan said as  they left the building.  He led Kera
 into the Arena  and selecting a fenced off area,  drew his sword. "Are
 you ready?"
      Kera drew  the sword she  had worn to  the ceremony, as  Rien had
 instructed  she do.  It was  the sword  that had  belonged to  Garwood
 Quinn, which she  took upon their escape from Phedra.  A fine blade of
 good quality metal, probably a family heirloom.
      "Are you ready?" Sir Bonhan repeated.
      Kera nodded and Sir Bonhan  instantly swung his weapon. There was
 barely  any time  to  parry the  attack. The  force  of the  vibration
 descended into her arms, almost making  her lose her grip on the hilt.
 She took  a step back  and blocked the next  swing with a  little more
 confidence. It was  not as simple an attack, but  the blow was weaker.
 This  continued  for a  few  more  moments  until the  knight  finally
 growled, "Swing back, you coward!" She did and soon the match became a
 more even give and take.
      After a  few minutes  Kera was  instructed to  stop. She  did and
 replaced the sword in its scabbard. Sir Bonhan did the same.
      "Not  bad," the  knight  commented, "but  it's  not good  either.
 You'll need to do  more than be able to beat a peasant  if you want to
 be a  knight. You stand  like a  girl and you  swing like a  girl. And
 there's no muscle in your strike."
      Kera was about to comment, but  bit her tongue, thinking it would
 be better not to anger the  knight. Sir Bonhan might have been shorter
 than she, but he  was as wide as he was tall, all  muscle by the looks
 of his arms and he was obviously an expert with the sword. "Yes, Sir,"
 she sighed.
      "Come along. I'll show you who you'll practice with."
      As they passed the elevated platform along the edge of the field,
 Kera noticed Rien standing up  above, watching. Sir Bonhan stopped and
 she stopped  behind him. Rien,  seeing this, stepped over  the railing
 and jumped  down, landing solidly on  his feet. Sir Bonhan  headed for
 Rien and Kera stood, waiting in  uncertainty. What would a good squire
 do in a situation such as this? Wait or follow? She chose to wait.
      "How did  she do?" Rien  asked in a  quiet voice when  the knight
 approached him. He did not want Kera to hear.
      "Rather well,  I must say. She  has some of your  style. Have you
 been teaching her?"
      Rien nodded,  maintaining his expression. "We've  been practicing
 off and on."
      "I'll  put her  with the  intermediate group,"  Sir Bonhan  said,
 straightening his belt. "But she still has a way to go."
      "Thank you," Rien  answered. "I didn't want to think  I did a bad
 job, but I'd still prefer someone like you to train her."
      "It will be a pleasure, Sir Keegan."
      Rien turned to Kera who was watching them with curiosity. "I have
 to leave on  business for a while. I should  be back tomorrow evening.
 Stay with your training."
      "Yes, Sir," Kera answered. She wanted  to do more -- ask what the
 business was, where. Perhaps even offer to go with him, but she had to
 fit the  mold of a  perfect squire,  to live up  to what she  said she
 wanted to be. She was there to listen, not question.
      Kera spent the  day in the field with a  group of students, being
 trained to endure the requirements of combat. At first she feared that
 she would  be clumsier than her  seemingly skilled peers, but  in time
 realized that she was not among the  worst in the group. Yet, in spite
 of this, she faced some humiliation, being the only woman in the group
 and as far  as she could tell,  in the whole field, but  even then she
 did her best to stand up to bullies which tried to poke fun at her.
      The training session lasted until  dinner, by which time Kera was
 too  tired to  worry about  the sword  in her  hands. She  ate dinner,
 ignoring the usual roar around the  table and retreated to her room as
 quickly  as  possible.   Tired  and  aching  from   the  workout,  she
 immediately went to bed, wondering about the business Rien had to take
 care off and  what she had gotten  herself into. She was  not sure how
 long  she could  last at  these practices  or how  long the  practices
 themselves would last.

                             *       *       *

      Kera opened her  eyes to bright sunlight falling on  her from the
 open shutters. Her arms  and legs were sore and her  back hurt and she
 suspected she  knew what had caused  all this pain. Getting  up with a
 groan, she  washed, got  dressed and  went downstairs  to eat.  It was
 about an hour past sunrise, but  practice was not to start until after
 lunch.
      She sat down  at the long dining table in  the great hall, across
 from the kitchen, with her meal  and after rubbing her stiff shoulder,
 started  on  the food.  Unlike  lunch  and  dinner, breakfast  was  an
 informal meal, not held to a rigid time schedule and people drifted in
 and out at irregular intervals.
      One of the men Kera saw in the Arena the day before sat down next
 to her  with his  breakfast. "Good  morning," he  smiled. "I  hope you
 don't mind me joining you."
      "Good morning,"  Kera answered. She  tried smiling, but  even the
 muscles in her jaws ached, perhaps because of all the scowling she did
 the day before.
      "Kiyan Kanne," he introduced himself, "Sir Hyde's squire."
      "I'm Kera,"  she managed to  squeeze out  a smile. "I'm  with Sir
 Keegan."
      "I know. I saw the ceremony yesterday. Congratulations."
      "Don't congratulate  me just yet.  I don't know what  I've gotten
 myself into."
      "Tough day yesterday?"
      Kera nodded, attacking her  breakfast. "Swinging that sword lunch
 through diner is not something I've done before."
      "It'll get  better," Kiyan assured her.  "It was the same  for me
 when I started training. You'll build the endurance you need."
      "Are the sessions always lunch through dinner?" Kera asked.
      "They've been  that way  for the last  two months,"  he answered.
 "Sir  Bonhan tortures  his own  squires in  the mornings.  I guess  he
 doesn't want any interruptions."
      Kera smiled. "Tortures?"
      Kiyan smiled  as well. "I  can't think of  a better word.  He has
 them get up at the crack of dawn  and suffer out in the Arena. Then in
 the afternoon they torture us."
      "Really? I thought that man was a knight!"
      "I'm sure  he's closer  to being  one than  either of  us," Kiyan
 said.
      Kera spent  the remainder of  the morning with  Kiyan, discussing
 the training and the Arena and the knights.
      After  lunch she  returned  to  the Arena  for  the  rest of  the
 afternoon. The practice  did not go any smoother, but  Kera was better
 prepared and when one of the bullies tried to show that a woman should
 not be using a sword, Kiyan tried  to stop him and ended up starting a
 fight.
      Sir Bonhan was not pleased when  he heard of these happenings and
 made a general announcement to the students that this sort of behavior
 will not  be tolerated. Men-at-arms  or squire, those who  went beyond
 the requirements of their training would be severely disciplined.
      After that, the day went a lot smoother.
      At  dinner the  war  with  Beinison was  the  topic  of the  day,
 something that  Kera did not  find pleasant  to listen to.  The latest
 word was  that Pyridain  and Westbrook  were completely  overrun, some
 talk of  a flotilla  heading for the  Laraka. Casualties  sounded like
 numbers  from the  King's treasury.  She  sighed, trying  to pay  more
 attention to her soup  than the knight at the other  end of the table.
 If Kiyan were around, Kera thought, she could try talking to him about
 something  else,  but  for  the  first time  during  the  day  he  was
 conspicuously missing.
      When dinner  was over, Kera  went outside. The  atmosphere around
 the table had gotten her completely  depressed and she was hoping that
 a stroll  outside would  make her feel  better. She took  a seat  on a
 fallen tree trunk  outside the keep's walls, looking at  the forest in
 the valley  beyond the rolling foothills.  All was dark and  calm. She
 strained her sight to see down the hill, hoping for a glimpse of Rien.
      Soft footsteps sounded  behind Kera and she turned  to see Kiyan.
 "Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked turning back to the darkness.
      "It's cooler than it's been the last few nights," he answered.
      Kera instantly  remembered that  her own  vision was  much better
 than  that of  the people  around her.  If he  was lucky,  Kiyan could
 barely see ten or twenty yards ahead of himself.
      "It beats fighting out in the sun," Kera added. "You didn't go to
 dinner?"
      "No. Sir Hyde didn't approve of my being in a fight today. He had
 me eat alone."
      "I wanted  to thank you for  helping me out in  the Arena today,"
 Kera said. "I'm sorry if that caused problems."
      "No, not at all," Kiyan hurried to say. "It was the least I could
 do. And Sir Hyde just told me to chase skirts on my own time."
      Kera  did not  answer,  not sure  what to  say.  Was he  implying
 something?
      "So why would Sir Keegan want a female squire?" Kiyan asked after
 an uncomfortably long stretch of silence.
      "Why did Sir Hyde want a male squire?" Kera asked.
      "This is  going to sound very  bad," Kiyan started, "but  men are
 the ones who are supposed to fight."
      "You're right,  it sounds bad,"  Kera said. "Why  shouldn't women
 fight? They work in the fields side by side with men, work in markets.
 One for one, we're quicker, have  better balance and our tempers don't
 need work. I once  knew a criminal who would only  hire women to thief
 for him."
      "What about physical strength?"
      "Oh...I  think it's  fine  for  a man  to  be  a labourer,"  Kera
 laughed.
      "I've always been taught that  men are supposed to protect women,
 care for them," Kiyan explained.
      "I don't see why. I've been  taking care of myself since an early
 age. I think  I did just fine..."  She wanted to say  more, but feared
 her past life may interfere with her future and left it at that.
      "So why do you want to be a knight? There's a war on!"
      "Because it's  out there, it's  something to do. Because  I don't
 want to be just another woman."
      "Hmmm... And to think I just did it for fortune and glory."
      "Are you getting any?" Kera asked.
      "I think I'll have to go  to war for that," Kiyan answered. "What
 do you think about the war? It's the topic of the day, it seems."
      "Have you  ever had  the feeling  that if you  get a  good nights
 rest, all  your problems will  solve themselves?" Kera  asked. "That's
 how I feel about the war."
      "I want to go to war,"  Kiyan admitted. "It's selfish, but I want
 to be a hero."
      "But what if you get killed?"
      "Then I'll know I've tried...well, not me. I won't be around, but
 others will and that'll be enough."
      "I don't understand you..."
      "Me or my wanting to do something great?"
      "Both," Kera sighed.
      "I guess  that puts us  on equal  footing," Kiyan said.  "I don't
 understand why you  want to be a knight. You're  a pretty young woman.
 You can probably have any man you want. Why wield a sword and fight?"
      Kera  looked  away.  "Sometimes  it's  really  tough  for  me  to
 understand why I do the things I  do, much less try to explain them to
 others. I just don't  want to be dependent on someone  else. I spent a
 large part  of my  life that  way and I  don't want  to live  that way
 again."
      "I guess that makes sense," Kiyan agreed.
      Kera got up,  dragging her cloak after her. "I'd  better get some
 rest before  tomorrow." She  could not  concentrate on  worrying about
 Rien with Kiyan present and she still had all the aches and pains from
 the practice and  feared that she would feel even  worse when she woke
 up in the morning.
      "I'll walk you in," Kiyan offered.
      "Sure," Kera nodded. "Are all the men here training for the war?"
      "Just  about. A  lot are  being  trained for  the regiments  Duke
 Glavenford  will be  sending  to Leftwich  and  Bivar next  month...if
 they're still around."
      They crossed the court yard and entered the keep.
      "Does Sir Keegan have any plans for the war?" Kiyan asked.
      "Not that I know of," Kera said.  "I hope he doesn't want to join
 in."
      "If he doesn't, it'll give me  that much more room to be heroic,"
 Kiyan smiled.
      They reached Kera's room. "Thanks for walking me in," she said.
      "My pleasure," Kiyan answered. "Not a  lot of women I can do this
 with around here."
      "Glad I could help."
      Kiyan leaned forward to kiss her, but Kera pulled away, surprised
 it took her so long to react.
      "I'm sorry, I can't," she said.
      "No, it's  my own fault," he  hurried to say, taking  a few steps
 back. "I assumed I could get away with it. Still friends?"
      "Still friends," Kera agreed. "Good night."
      Kera sprawled out  on the bed, wondering if  she acted correctly.
 She was not sure what to expect from Rien anymore, but did not want to
 tempt fate. If she  were to have a choice, she  would choose to remain
 with him. She  got up to look  out the window, which  was barely level
 with the wall, but not facing in the right direction. Kiyan was a nice
 young man. Someone  she could see herself with, but  could he give her
 what Rien had given her? Perhaps if she got a good nights rest, things
 would indeed appear clearer in the morning.
      With a sigh Kera returned to her bed and quickly fell asleep.

                             *       *       *

      Kera woke  up in the  morning to  someone shaking her  awake. She
 grabbed the  arm with one hand,  thinking to pull her  dagger with the
 other, but she had left the daggers packed away, it having been a year
 since she last slept with them.
      "You're a little jumpy," Rien sat down on the edge of her bed.
      "A simple `good morning' would've been better," Kera relaxed. Her
 last two days had been very difficult,  having to put up with a lot of
 men trying to  prove their superiority to her, half  of whom she could
 take down on a bad day. She  was tired and jumpy and was not expecting
 Rien to show up in her room. It was still dark outside.
      "I tried that," he answered. "Did you wait up for me last night?"
      "No. I was too tired to stay up."
      "Is Sir Bonhan running you hard?"
      "Yes." She  looked around. By  the looks  of the sky  outside the
 window, it  was still  a while  before sunrise.  "Go away.  It's still
 dark."
      "It'll be light within the hour. Get up."
      "Unlike you,  I need to  sleep," Kera  complained, but sat  up in
 bed, tossing her legs over the edge.
      "I'll wait outside," Rien stood up.
      "Wait. I don't mind if you stay."
      He walked over to the window and looked out.
      "How was your trip?"
      "All right. I'll  have to go again  in a day or  two." Rien could
 hear Kera  getting out of  bed and the  floor boards squeak  under her
 feet.
      "Why am I getting up now?"
      "Because I told you to."
      "Rien!"
      He turned  to her, then looked  away while she put  on her tunic.
 "To run down to the village."
      "What for?"
      "Exercise."
      "I get plenty of exercise already."
      "You need conditioning."
      Kera remained quiet  for a while. Rien continued to  look out the
 window. He  felt uncomfortable in his  new position as her  knight. He
 never liked the  hierarchy of command and the status  levels that were
 placed on society. Kera was never subordinate to him before. Having it
 be this way now was unnerving.
      "Rien?"
      "Yes?"
      "Why did you look away a moment ago?"
      "I'm waiting for you to dress."
      "But why  aren't you looking  at me?  It's not like  you've never
 seen me naked before."
      "You're my squire."
      "That doesn't change it! Look at me!"
      He turned reluctantly. Kera stood dressed by the bed, arms folded
 over her chest.
      "Well?"
      "Let's  go.  I  want  to  get to  the  village  and  back  before
 breakfast."
      Kera did not  move for a moment, still expecting  him to give her
 an answer, but when he opened the door and stepped out, she sighed and
 followed him.
      "The village is five leagues  away," she pointed out, catching up
 to Rien.
      "You're healthy. You'll make it." He walked to the stairs without
 stopping to wait. "How did your training go?"
      Kera wondered if she should answer. "What's troubling you?"
      Rien glanced over at her. "The war. It's not going well."
      Kera sighed. "Will you be joining?"
      "Not unless it comes this far."
      "That's not it, is it?"
      "I'm also uncomfortable with you being my squire."
      "You weren't uncomfortable when you held me captive in Phedra."
      "Kera, you're making this harder than it has to be."
      "I'm sorry," she said without  hesitation. She was pushing him to
 act the way he always did and he was not going to comply.
      "How was your training?" Rien asked again.
      "Pretty good, I guess. I win as often as I get beaten."
      "I'll help you practice as soon as I have the time to do so."
      "Thanks."
      They walked out of the keep and across the court yard.
      "Is it  safe to go  by the forest at  night?" Kera paused  at the
 gates as the two guards at it shifted sleepily.
      "With me, sure," Rien smiled. "Are  you ready? Let's see how much
 endurance you have."
      "You know how much endurance I have," Kera smiled seductively.
      "Kera."
      "All right, I'm ready."
      They ran  west, down the road  into the valley where  the village
 lay cradled  between the Skywall  Mountains of Arvalia. It  started to
 get light  soon after their  departure and by  the time they  made two
 leagues, it was almost completely light,  although the sun had not yet
 risen over  the mountains.  The road  was the same  one by  which they
 arrived three days ago and Kera was already somewhat familiar with the
 forest on the south side. While it was still dark, the forest appeared
 as a  giant black mass,  trees barely distinguishable from  the ground
 and the  sky. But with daylight  Kera cautiously crossed to  the south
 edge of the road and ran there.
      Rien paced  her during  the entire  run, careful  to keep  to her
 pace, at times purposely slowing down to  force her to do the same, in
 order not to tire out too soon. The run was easy, down hill the entire
 way to  the village, and he  was confident that in  her condition Kera
 could easily make  the five leagues. When she crossed  the road to run
 closer  to  the  edge  of  Charnelwood,  Rien  glanced  at  her,  then
 suppressing  a smile,  also crossed  to the  south side,  a few  yards
 closer to  the legends of  the demons  and spirits that  populated the
 forest.
      The sun  was above  the hills  by the  time they  made it  to the
 village. They  slowed to a  walk before passing  the first hut  at the
 edge of the  village, both breathing hard. Kera wanted  to sit down to
 catch her breath and shake some sweat off, but noticed a well directly
 ahead of them and followed Rien.
      "How did I do?" she asked Rien between gasps.
      He smiled  at her, a happy  smile, not the concerned  look he had
 when she first saw him today. "All right."
      Kera smiled also.
      "Don't drink too much," Rien cautioned her at the well.
      "We're not running back, are we? If you make me run back," Kera's
 breathing was beginning to return  to normal, "I'll never forgive you.
 I'd rather be tortured."
      "Really?" Rien  asked, the smile still  on his face. He  sat down
 with his back against the well, face wet with the water he splashed on
 himself.
      "You wouldn't!"
      "I won't.  I should remember this  is your first day  and you ran
 quite a distance."
      Kera slid  down next to him,  catching her breath. First  day. He
 did not think she could keep it up for more than one, did he?
      "Are you doing all right?" Rien looked over.
      "Uh-huh," Kera exhaled. "Why do you want me to run?"
      Rien pulled  himself up and  planted his back firmly  against the
 well.  "Fighting  will  build  your muscles,  help  you  develop  some
 agility, teach  you to  use a  sword, but  it won't  make you  last in
 combat. Running builds endurance, helps you reach extremes."
      "Right."
      "Sir Bonham won't have you run. He hates running. Short as he is,
 almost anyone  can outrun  him and he  hates that. But  if you  go out
 early enough, you'll see him and his squires running around the Arena.
 He knows what good it does."
      Kera remained silent  for a few minutes longer,  until Rien asked
 her again how she was.
      "You tell me," she answered.
      "You're not  the best  long distance runner  I know,"  Rien said,
 "but most people can't run five leagues, either. Even down hill."
      Kera smiled, but  looked away. "I don't think I  could've done it
 before I met you."
      "City dwellers usually can't."
      "Do you want me to run back?"
      Rien looked at her. "Do you want to?"
      Kera shook  her head.  "I don't  think I could  make it  up hill,
 especially after just running this distance."
      A woman  with a large clay  pot approached the well  and stopped,
 looking at the pair.
      "Good morning to you, madam," Rien smiled.
      The woman  suspiciously walked  around to the  other side  of the
 well and  proceeded to fill  her pot  there. Kera snickered,  but said
 nothing.
      "We'll increase the distance gradually," Rien said.
      "How gradually?"
      "Not tomorrow. I want to see you run the same distance tomorrow."
      Kera sighed. "You don't mean every morning, do you?"
      Rien nodded. "Every morning."
      "I haven't seen you run every morning," she said.
      "I haven't had much opportunity. It's time I started, too."
      The woman finished getting the water  and walked back to her hut,
 suspiciously glancing over  her shoulder at the couple  sitting by the
 well.
      "She doesn't like us much," Kera noted.
      "She doesn't know  we're from Valdasly," Rien said.  "The Keep is
 very respected here.  Because it's a garrison,  there's little trouble
 that happens on  this road. If not Flint, then  ReVell himself has the
 bandits removed."
      "Who's Flint?" Kera asked.
      "Flint Venture is  hard to explain," Rien answered.  "He lives up
 in the hills somewhere and sends  regular patrols to watch the region.
 He and his men are self appointed guardians of the villages near here.
 No one really knows why Flint chose  to do what he does, but he's been
 doing it for  a while and everyone  knows of him. Maybe  he'll stop by
 the keep and I'll introduce you."
      "This is a strange place," Kera sighed.
      "Stranger than Dargon?" Rien got up.
      "Much stranger. Demons, guardians, knights, volcanos."
      Rien laughed. "Arvalia's a busy place."
      Kera got  to her feet  and drank some  more water from  the well.
 "We're not going to run, right?" she asked as an after thought.
      "We won't," Rien promised. "Come on. It's time we started back."
      They started  down the  road, quietly at  first, then  Kera asked
 Rien about  his trip and  the one  he was expecting  to take in  a few
 days.
      "I informed my  tribe about the war," Rien said.  "Should it ever
 come this far, Baranur doesn't know about the life in the forest. They
 will have to fight for their own land."
      "Will you fight with them?"
      Rien nodded.  "Remember I told you  I was a landed  knight? These
 are my lands," he pointed to the forest south of the road. "It's where
 I was born and I have to defend it."
      "I heard the  servants talking about the demons  and evil spirits
 in the forest," Kera remembered. "Sounded just like what you said."
      Rien  smiled. "The  tribes  like  to cause  trouble  to keep  the
 natives restless.  You see, many years  ago, long before either  of us
 was born,  even before there  was a  Baranur, there were  wars between
 your kind  and my kind.  Since then most  Eelail chose seclusion  as a
 method of maintaining safety. By playing tricks on the natives, making
 them believe the  forest is haunted, we  can set aside a  part of this
 world for ourselves."
      "Why did they fight?" Kera asked.
      "I don't think anyone really knows anymore," Rien said. "Many say
 that back  in the  days of  the Fretheod  the two  races first  met at
 Wudamund, a Fretheod garrison, and the wars began. No one knows why. I
 heard  stories that  a  fortune teller  predicted  that when  Wudamund
 falls, so  will the Empire and  King Althweil believed it  and was too
 scared of  the Eelail to  let them alone.  Others say that  the Eelail
 knew of the legend and wanted to tempt fate and bring Fretheod down to
 its  knees. It's  up to  you  what you  believe, but  the Eelail  were
 defeated and fled and within the century the Empire crumbled as well."
      "What do you think happened?" Kera asked again.
      "I don't  know. And I don't  think there's any one  old enough to
 remember, even among my people."
      "What about Eliowy and Teran?"
      "My people  broke into many tribes,  all over the world.  I guess
 Rubel  has one  of the  many tribes.  The tribes  in Charnelwood  have
 stayed  very secluded  over the  centuries.  I'm the  first to  leave.
 There's been no other contact with human civilization."
      "But you're half human," Kera protested.
      "Don't you ever stop asking questions?" Rien asked.
      "No."
      He sighed and took a look at  the forest. The trees swayed in the
 light wind  and shook their  leaves. He  knew that the  forest watched
 him, felt himself watched. It was a bond that he could never break, no
 matter were he went.
      Kera, too,  looked into  the forest. "It's  a creepy  place," she
 commented. "It gets so dark in there, so quickly."
      "I wouldn't be  surprised if no human stepped off  the south edge
 of  this road  in the  last decade,"  Rien said.  "Certainly no  local
 villager."
      Kera hopped off the road into the dark green grass at the edge of
 the forest. "I'll be the first," she laughed.
      Rien followed her  off the road. "Be careful.  Trackers have been
 known to get lost mere feet from the edge of the woods."
      "Rien, is that a fairy ring?" Kera asked, looking down.
      He glanced down  at the dark patch of grass  in which Kera stood,
 surrounded  by clusters  of  mushrooms. "...you  demi-puppets that  by
 moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, where of the ewe not bites;
 and you whose  pastime is to make midnight mushrumps,  that rejoice to
 hear the solemn curfew..."
      "Oh, didn't...uh, what's his name?"
      Rien put his finger to Kera's lips, shushing her.

              Oh, well done!  I commend your pains,
              And everyone shall share i' th' gains.
              And now about the cauldron sing,
              Like elves and fairies in a ring,
              Enchanting all that you put in.

      Kera smiled. "You're good."
      "I only  quote what was written  almost a five hundred  years ago
 for  the Bardic  College in  Magnus,"  Rien replied.  "What keeps  the
 curious away is that same superstition."
      Kera suddenly grabbed  hold of him and pulled  him close, kissing
 him. Rien resisted for a moment, but then gave in.
      "What was that for?"
      "I missed you."
      "Just don't let anyone else see you missing me like that."
      "Yes, my Lord," Kera laughed.
      Rien guided her out of the fairy ring and they walked back to the
 road.
      "What about the  fairy rings?" Kera asked as they  moved on. "How
 do they happen?"
      "Nature has  a lot  of secrets," Rien  explained. "We  don't make
 them, if that's what you mean."
      "Is it true what  they say about what happens to  you if you step
 in one?" Kera asked.
      "So  many questions,"  Rien looked  at her.  "They just  mark our
 territory and  keep the  superstitious away. We  have other  means for
 keeping the non-fearful at a distance."
      They   returned  to   the   keep  midmorning,   the  road   being
 predominantly up hill,  and had breakfast, not having a  chance to see
 each other again until dinner.

                             *          *          *

      The following morning Kera was ready  when Rien came to her door.
 She knew  he would want  her to  run and did  all she could  to insure
 being awake in time for his arrival.
      Rien paused,  a little  surprised that she  was waiting  for him.
 "You're up early this morning." He  knew well of her tendency to sleep
 late.
      "I want  you to take  my wanting  to become a  knight seriously,"
 Kera answered.
      "And how long will that want last?"
      "Until I become one or until I no longer have the desire."
      "And what  if next month I  find you lounging around  in bed when
 there's work to be done?"
      "Then I'll no longer be your squire."
      Rien studied  Kera carefully.  There was no  light and  she could
 just see the glint of his eyes in the dark, watching her. She wondered
 who could  see whom better, if  he could detect the  flush building in
 her face, hear the fear in her voice.
      "Do  you  realize  what  you're saying?"  Rien  asked.  His  tone
 remained the same, as if he was blind to all that she felt.
      "I'm not going to give you cause to be upset with me," Kera said.
 "I will do all that you expect."
      He turned to the door. "I know  one of us will be sorry this ever
 happened. I just wish I knew which one."
      Kera caught  up to  Rien in  the corridor. "What  do you  mean by
 that?"
      He shook  his head. "It  won't be easy for  you to get  where you
 want to go. And I'm not the easiest man to get you there."
      "I think you'll do fine."
      He smiled at her, a faint trace barely detectable in the dark. "I
 appreciate your  confidence, but I fear  you may come to  hate me long
 before you get where you want to be."
      Kera took his hand into hers. "I don't think I will."

                             *          *          *

      It  was shortly  before dinner  when Rien  informed Kera  that he
 would be  leaving again in the  evening. He could not  promise when he
 would  be back  this time  and she  did not  press for  him to  make a
 commitment. She would stay busy  here, training in the Arena, running,
 doing whatever else  was required of her while he  was gone. They said
 their goodbyes soon after dinner and  Kera watched Rien, the Baron and
 another man,  who appeared  mid-day, select two  guards and  ride away
 from the keep on  the road towards the forest. She  stood in the great
 hall arch,  watching them ride out  of the keep, thinking  back to the
 discussion she had with Rien earlier in the day.
      "I want you  to run every morning," he told  her, "whether or not
 I'm here, whether or not I can do it with you."
      "For how long?"
      "Until I tell you otherwise."
      "Will you be back soon?"
      He  did not  answer for  a while.  "I don't  know. A  council was
 called. All four tribes together, for  the first time in ages. I don't
 know."
      "You keep abandoning me," Kera reproached him.
      "There's a war on out there,"  Rien explained. "I may not want to
 fight in it, but if the circumstances  force me, I may have no choice.
 I have to  make this choice much in  the same way you made  the one to
 become a squire  and eventually a knight. It's a  form of survival for
 both of us."
      She wondered through dinner what he  meant when he said that. Why
 was it survival? Why was it the same for both of them? He did not have
 to fight. He could always leave, go where there is no war ... and then
 it began  to make  sense. He made  the choice to  take his  own choice
 away. He would stay  no matter what, just like she  told him she would
 do all she could to become a  knight. They both had the choice to walk
 away and forget the difficulties they would be forced to face and both
 decided to confront what may prove  to be an extremely difficult path.
 It was a decision not to give up.
      Not giving it  another thought, Kera charged down  the steps into
 the  court yard  and  to  the stables  where  Hasina  was being  held.
 Practically knocking over a stable boy, Kera leapt on the thundersteed
 and yanked  the rope holding  the horse off  its hook. "Come  on," she
 prompted the mare, not even bothering  to take the time to saddle her,
 and charged out of the castle after Rien and the men with him.
      It took  some time for Kera  to catch up to  the five individuals
 ahead of her, on  the road towards the village, and  when she did, two
 were dismounted, preparing to enter the forest. She ran Hasina off the
 road and stood in the tall grass, watching from a distance. She wanted
 to talk  to Rien,  but this  was obviously neither  the time,  nor the
 place. After some time, she saw  Rien slap Kelsey's side and the horse
 wandered off.  The other man  preparing to go,  the one who  came that
 afternoon, lead his  horse beside himself as they  entered the forest.
 Baron Dower and his two guards  waited for a while, the Baron pointing
 to something in the forest while  talking to the guards, then they all
 rode in the direction of the village.
      Kera waited in the field,  watching the forest and wondering what
 it contained that  had to be so jealously guarded.  Were the Eelail so
 different from  humans that  wars had  to be  fought? What  did Rien's
 people think  of the outside world  and whose side would  they take if
 the war came to Arvalia? She could  not help but wonder how Rien's own
 birth came to be.
      Something howled  in the  forest, a long,  drawn out  eerie sound
 that carried in the wind and echoed through the hills. Kera, shivered,
 scanning the edge of the forest, looking for what it was that made the
 noise. She  felt Hasina tense under  her, also cautious of  the sound.
 Only the  swaying branches of trees  greeted her, waving as  wind blew
 through them. Uneasy,  Kera turned Hasina and kicked  her into motion,
 guiding her  out on  to the road  and bringing her  to a  full gallop,
 wanting to  leave behind the portion  of the forest that  produced the
 scream, having no wish to meet whatever had made it.
      Kera returned  to the  keep shortly  after sunset,  worried about
 Rien and  not having had a  chance to talk  to him before he  had gone
 into the forest. She wondered who that  man with him was and where the
 Baron and his guards were headed.
      In the  stables Kera dismounted  Hasina and  led her back  to her
 place. "You have an easy life, right?" she asked.
      "I can handle her, Miss," the stable boy came out of nowhere.
      Kera looked  at him, maybe  eight or  nine, skinny, with  a dirty
 face.  He  looked like  a  boy,  not  like  the children  that  Liriss
 collected, the  sickly starved  urchins no  longer caring  about their
 lives, doing whatever it took to survive through the day. She wondered
 how she had come  to be his ward, who her real  parents were. Did they
 work for him? Where  they important to him? Why had  he kept her? From
 the earliest memories she had, she had been with him.
      "Miss? It is my job," the boy said, again asking to help with the
 horse.
      "I believe  you," Kera said,  "but I'd  like to groom  her myself
 tonight. Thank you."
      After the boy  wandered away, Kera found a brush  and a bucket of
 water.
      "Maybe you'll accept help from  someone more your age?" she heard
 a familiar voice, but did not turn.
      Kera laughed. "I'll do it myself,  if you don't mind." She turned
 Hasina and tossed some more hay in the stable before her. "But I don't
 mind if you stay and talk."
      "I  think I  will," Kiyan  Kanne came  closer and  leaned on  the
 wooden inside wall. "I thought that was you I saw on this beast."
      "Hasina's not a beast," Kera said. "She just has no manners."
      "Yours?"
      "Sir Keegan's. He likes fat horses."
      "A thundersteed's more than a  fat horse," Kiyan said. "You often
 ride bareback?"
      "Not really. Not on Hasina,  certainly. Today was the first time.
 I just needed to get out fast.  She's rather hard to control without a
 saddle."
      "I can imagine. The smaller horses  are better for that." He bent
 down and  moved the  water bucket  closer to  Kera, as  Hasina shifted
 away.
      "Thanks."
      "I missed you the last couple of days."
      "I was busy  with Sir Keegan," Kera lied. She  still was not sure
 what to do about Kiyan.
      "Listen, about two nights ago..."
      Kera looked at Kiyan. "I'm not angry, really."
      He smiled,  a slight  flush in  his cheeks.  "I was  wondering if
 there was someone else."
      "Not really," Kera sighed. "Not anymore."
      "What happened?"
      "I  became a  squire." She  really did  not want  to explain  the
 details of her current situation.
      "He didn't like your choice?"
      "Something like that. It made all the difference to him."
      "And you can't let go?"
      "No."
      Kiyan put his hand on Kera's  arm, drawing her attention. "I like
 you, Kera. I'm just asking for a chance."
      She shook  her head. "I can't.  Not now." A tear  rolled down her
 cheek. "I hate what  he's doing to me, but I must  be patient. I don't
 want to lose him."
      Kiyan wiped the tear with  his hand. "Don't overlook those around
 you in your struggle."
      "I wish things were different," Kera  said. "I like you, too. You
 were one of the few to accept  me here, rather than pressure me for my
 choice. It's good to have a friend like you."
      "Come  outside,"  Kiyan  said.  "I  think  we're  disturbing  the
 horses."
      He lead  Kera out of the  stables, his arm around  her shoulders.
 "It'll be fine, really."
      "What will?"
      "I don't know. Whatever it is  you want. I just have this feeling
 you were born lucky."
      "I  don't know,"  Kera said.  She  certainly did  not feel  lucky
 having lived the childhood that she had.

                             *          *          *

      That night Kera  had a hard time falling asleep.  She wondered if
 she was making  the right choice and  if she would regret  making it a
 year  or  two  down  the  road.   She  liked  Kiyan,  his  easy  going
 personality, his willingness  to talk and help forget,  his ability to
 just listen. She felt that if it were him she had met just over a year
 ago in Dargon,  she could have had  a life with him just  as easily as
 with Rien.
      When she first met  Rien, it took her a while  to realize that he
 was reaching out to  her, giving her a chance to  leave Liriss. He did
 not need her. He simply wanted to  help. If she had a chance to relive
 that part of her life, she  would act differently towards him, knowing
 what she now knew. Back then she did not realize how much trust he put
 in  her and  understood it  only when  they were  caught in  the store
 robbery in Tench.
      Tench. Before she met Rien, Kera  had not been further than a day
 or two out of  Dargon. Now, in less then a year,  she had gone through
 four duchies, some of them more than once. She had a life of adventure
 with him, a chance to see and experience what so few others could. She
 knew Kiyan could not  give her a lot of that, at  least not until well
 after he would become a knight.
      She did like  Kiyan. He was her age, full  of life and adventure,
 wanting to change the world by himself. Keeping in mind what Rien said
 to her a few days before, she  knew she needed to make a decision that
 would effect her  the rest of her  life and she was not  sure what the
 right choice was.
      The sky started to turn light without Kera getting any sleep. She
 sat up on the bed as a rooster crowed outside, remembering her promise
 to Rien.  No matter  what, she  intended to go  through with  that, to
 become a knight.
      She ran  the five leagues  as she  promised, in the  large meadow
 northwest of the keep.  She did not want to go  near the forest alone,
 particularly when  it was still  partially dark outside. She  felt the
 running come easier as she went on. It took longer for her to lose her
 breath, her feet felt  firmer on the ground as she  ran, but she still
 had not noticed any effects on her training in the Arena.
      Having finished  sufficiently early, Kera went  to have breakfast
 while only a few  of the keep's inhabitants were up.  She did not want
 to  see Kiyan  so early  in  the day,  having spent  the entire  night
 thinking about him and knowing that  he tended to sleep late, finished
 all her chores in  the keep early and again left  for the meadow where
 she ran.  She wanted  to relax  for a while,  to forget  her troubles,
 maybe even take a  swim in the near by creek.  Anything to forget what
 troubled her overnight.
      There  were  no  plans  for  the afternoon  as  yet.  Sir  Bonhan
 cancelled the day's  practice the day before, in favor  of pitting two
 of  the three  regiments present  against  each other.  She would  not
 participate, but could attend and watch. She knew Kiyan to be a member
 of  the Fourth  Arvalian Militia  and that  they were  one of  the two
 regiments to participate in the mock battle.

                             *          *          *

      Baron Dower  stood on the  Arena platform, arms  folded, watching
 the two regiments clash in the practice field below. The dull clanking
 sound of padded weapons against metal armor, stomping of feet, yelling
 and grunting, all carried a long way.
      "The Fourth is losing ground," Sir Bonhan commented. "They didn't
 reinforce the middle."
      ReVell nodded, watching the growing bend in the line.
      A hand reached out past the Baron  and placed a stack of coins on
 the railing before Sir Bonhan.
      "What's that for?"
      "Ten silver the Fourth will win," Sir Hardin said.
      Sir Bonhan thoughtfully looked over  at the old knight. "You have
 much faith in your squires. Ten silver it is."
      ReVell picked up one of the shiny coins. Shapkan silver. "Been to
 the market again, Clev?"
      "Nothing like  a new  shield to  put the  sun in  the eye  of the
 enemy. So they may see the strength of the Stevene."
      Sir Bonhan grunted. "Why be scared of a dead man?" He slammed his
 fist on the  railing, causing the coins to fall  to the ground. "Scare
 them with  Nehru, Saren,  J'mirg, Da'athra'a,  even their  own Amante,
 Gow, Erida!"
      "You cracked the rail again," ReVell noted.
      "I'll bring you a new one from Tasantil!"
      ReVell looked  back into the  field. The Fourth  Arvalian Militia
 regiment now  suffered a  deep bow in  the middle of  the line  as the
 First pushed on. "How soon will the troops be ready?"
      "They were ready before Melrin."
      "I mean completely ready," he said.
      "I deem them fit to back  any regular light or medium infantry or
 archer regiment."
      "We must be ready to march as soon as the word is given."
      "Even now, my Liege," Sir Bonhan answered.
      A smile crossed ReVell's face. "Soon."
      The  Fourth pushed  an offensive  against the  left flank  of the
 First, catching  them by  surprise, crushing the  men trying  to force
 their way  to the  middle of  the line. They  hooked around  the edge,
 rushing in on the rear of the regiment.
      Sir  Bonhan  leaned  forward, watching  closely.  "Cormack,  take
 note!"
      "Yes,  Sir!"  a  voice  sounded from  further  down  the  crowded
 platform.
      The hook tightened.
      "They made a mistake."
      "It's exercises like  this that teach us best,"  Sir Hardin said.
 "Let  them make  all  the mistakes  they will  right  here. The  First
 pressed too hard. They wanted to break the middle. Now they'll know to
 guard their flanks."
      The battle was in its last leg.
      "They  both  have  good  form, gentlemen,"  ReVell  said  as  the
 fighting stopped. "My compliments."
      "There's still  work to  be done," Sir  Hardin said.  "They'll be
 moving against a real army next time."
      "Cormack, get all the company  officers to gather in the library.
 No dinner until we sort this out!" Sir Bonhan barked.
      "Don't be too  rough on them," the Baron advised.  "It was a good
 trial."
      "It won't be a trial against the Beinison army."
      Two men on horseback, the  Senior Captains of the regiments, rode
 up to the platform and saluted the knights on it.
      "Gather your Captains in the library," Sir Bonhan called down.
      "Well, let's  go, gentlemen," ReVell  said. "It was a  good show,
 but I don't intend to sit through dinner in the library."
      The mass of observers slowly  emptied from the platform, everyone
 talking about  the combat at the  same time, hurrying to  take care of
 their postponed  or neglected duties.  The men in the  Arena separated
 out into  groups, rubbing  their bumps and  bruises, thankful  that at
 least this time their weapons were simple padded sticks.
      "How did you like it, Kera?" ReVell asked as he passed by her.
      "I've never seen anything like it, Sir!"
      "For your  sake, girl, glad as  I am you  wish to be a  knight, I
 hope you never see real battle."
      "I wish Sir Keegan could've seen it," she said. She knew he would
 be willing to give detailed explanations, answer questions she did not
 want to ask the Baron himself.
      "I'm sure he's seen many like it," the Baron said. "Even the real
 ones."
      "Will you be going to war?" Kera asked.
      "I  have to.  I'm  the  Militia Captain  for  Arvalia. Where  the
 militia goes, they go because I lead them."
      "Have you been in a war before?"
      He laughed. "Never in one this big. The largest troop I lead into
 battle in the past has been a single regiment. This will be a learning
 experience for all of us."
      They stopped in the court yard, before the archway into the keep,
 where two soldiers supported a third man in dirty worn leather, barely
 able to stand on his own.
      "Baron!" one of the soldiers called.
      The man being  supported instantly looked in  their direction and
 struggled to correct himself.
      ReVell Dower walked  over to them, Kera  curiously following him.
 "What happened here?"
      "I have a message for Sir Keegan," the man said.
      "Keegan isn't here now. I'm Baron Dower. What is the message?"
      "I'm sorry, Sir, but I can only give it to Sir Keegan."
      "Sir Keegan  left yesterday.  He will  be gone  a few  days," the
 Baron said.
      "Where did he  go?" the messenger asked. "I'll deliver  it to him
 there."
      "You can't  go where  he is. You  can wait here.  Are you  sure I
 can't be of help?"
      "I'm sure, your Lordship."
      "Get  the healer  and  see  to his  needs,"  ReVell  said to  the
 soldiers and left to talk to the captains of the regiments.
      Kera  watched  him go,  but  remained  as  the soldiers  sat  the
 messenger on the ground. "I'll get Lord Ealhfrit," one said and left.
      "Is there  something I can  do to help?"  Kera knelt down  by the
 messenger. "I'm Sir Keegan's squire."
      He looked her  up and down and  smirked. "I ran my  horse to near
 death to get here. I must speak only with him."
      Kera  looked towards  the  main gates,  immediately spotting  the
 horse that looked like every dog in the duchy had chased after it.
      "The best thing you can do,"  the messenger went on, "is bring me
 to Sir Keegan. Or bring him here."
      Kera looked  around, then moved  so that the courier  was between
 her and the remaining soldier. "Are you with the trouble shooters? The
 League?"
      His eyes narrowed. "What do you know?"
      "I told you, I'm  his squire. I've been with him  for more than a
 year."
      "It's very important that the message reaches him and I must give
 it to him myself!"
      "How important? I can go find him,  but if I do, I'll be breaking
 a promise. Will it be worth it?"
      "I think it will. And tell him if I don't hear from him tomorrow,
 I'll have to break the seal."
      Kera stood  up as  a tall  grey haired  man in  green-brown robes
 walked  down the  stairs with  the soldier  that left  minutes before.
 "I'll try to find him by tomorrow," Kera promised. "Wait here."
      She ran  to her  room, changed  into travel  clothes, to  be more
 comfortable in the woods, strapped on  her sword and inserted a dagger
 in her belt. She  did not think she would need her  pack, but the bow?
 Kera hesitated,  looking at  the unstrung  instrument standing  in the
 corner of  the room. She remembered  the animal scream from  the night
 before and considered the adequacy of her sword. Yes, she may need the
 bow.
      Taking the keep's steps three or four at a time, she ran outside,
 heading for  the stables. No time  to saddle Hasina. She  already knew
 the mare  could be handled bareback.  Another few moments and  she was
 ready to go.
      "Kera!"
      She pulled Hasina to a halt just short of the gate.
      "Kera!" Kiyan  ran over to her.  "I've been looking all  over for
 you. Where were you all day?"
      Hasina snorted, as if sensing Kera's urgency.
      "Kiyan,  I  need to  find  Sir  Keegan. Congratulations  on  your
 victory. We can talk when I get back."
      "I can go with you," he offered.
      "There's  no time,"  she  answered, kicking  Hasina into  motion.
 "I'll see you soon!"

                             *          *          *

      Kera dismounted Hasina in mid-gallop  and left her grazing in the
 meadow on the north side of the road. She speculated that if Rien left
 Kelsey, the walk was not all that long and besides, a horse that large
 could be in  quite a disadvantage deep in the  forest. She crossed the
 road to the south side and paused, looking into Charnelwood, listening
 for any unusual noises, such as the  one she had heard the day before.
 Everything  seemed  quiet, with  just  the  sounds  of birds  and  the
 rustling leaves  enhancing the peace  of the wilderness. Kera  threw a
 glance back at  Hasina, peacefully grazing in the meadow.  She did not
 worry about leaving  the horse. She knew both Kelsey  and Hasina to be
 trained well  enough not to trust  strangers and to come  when called.
 Looking around once again, Kera slipped into the green forest.
      Everything there seemed  as normal as the forests  she had gotten
 used to  in the  northern portions  of Baranur.  It was  a combination
 green leaf and  pine forest, very dense in some  parts, somewhat clear
 in others, but everywhere she looked,  it seemed that a human foot had
 never disturbed the ground. The  forest floor was littered with fallen
 leaves and branches,  without any evidence of footprints,  much less a
 path of any sort.
      After  a league  of walking  and over  an hour  of searching  the
 ground, the  only tracks  Kera could  find were her  own. With  a deep
 sigh, she sat down by a tree  to rest. She was positive that Rien went
 by somewhere  here. She entered  the forest in  the same place  as he.
 Were the stories about this forest  really true? Did it really swallow
 people  never  to  be  seen  again? She  refused  to  believe  in  the
 impossible. They had to go somewhere, as did Rien.
      She got up and once again proceeded further into the woods. There
 were  still no  trails,  but she  was confident  that  would not  last
 forever.  Somehow, somewhere,  there  had  to be  a  trace of  someone
 passing. She was not going to give up that easily.
      After what she guessed was five leagues of walking, Kera came out
 to the edge of  the forest. She could not imagine  it being that short
 across,  but there  was  a wide  meadow ahead  of  her, the  mountains
 raising on  each side, enclosing the  valley. Off to the  right, where
 the road  angled up hill into  the canyon, Kera spotted  the fortified
 walls of Valdasly Keep.
      "No!"
      She turned  back, angry  and determined. She  was careful  not to
 make this  mistake. She  knew she  could not have  taken such  a sharp
 turn. As she stepped back into the forest, a wild animal scream echoed
 through the  valley. She felt the  hilt of her sword,  looking around.
 There was no  trace of anything moving. With  solid determination Kera
 walked back into the woods, marching straight ahead, no longer looking
 for any  paths or trails.  The animal  yell sounded again,  all around
 her, almost  on top  of her. Kera  did not stop.  She knew  the forest
 looked equally  empty in  all directions. She  was going  to challenge
 that emptiness now.  She felt uneasy and perhaps even  scared, but she
 was not  going to  give up.  Not after making  a promise  and breaking
 another.
      She paused just long enough to take out the item she found in the
 cave when  escaping from Phedra and  examined it again. It  was a near
 perfect square  with a  floating black and  gold arrow  inside, always
 pointing in the same direction,  or towards metal. Perhaps the ability
 of this item -- she had no  real name for it -- to unerringly maintain
 its orientation, would be of help in this forest.
      Turning the item over, Kera examined the other side, containing a
 series of equidistant black lines, crossed by a red line. The red line
 changed in  size, short some times,  long at others. Right  now it was
 long, almost  three-fourths the length of  the side of the  square. It
 tended to  be longer in  the day than at  night. Perhaps a  device for
 measuring time, but Kera had still not learned to use it.
      Turning  it back  over, Kera  determined that  the direction  she
 wanted to head in was indicated by  the gold end of the arrow, the one
 that pointed towards Magnus.
      The walk lasted for what seemed to be hours, leagues upon leagues
 of blindly walking straight  ahead, constantly checking her direction.
 At times it appeared as if a  straight path through the forest was off
 to the side as indicated by the arrow and after debating if she should
 trust her senses or not, Kera  would follow the direction indicated by
 the device in her hand.
      Looking up at the sun, barely visible through the branches of the
 trees above  her, and  wondering if she  should consider  turning back
 before it  gets dark  in the forest,  Kera insistently  pushed forward
 through the  thick growths and  clearings alike.  She did not  stop to
 rest, nor to  look around and most importantly, refused  to look back.
 The one effort  she consistently made was to walk  around the trees in
 her way. At one such tree, she  started to do the same and then froze,
 standing  face  to face  with  a  tall  blond  haired man  with  sharp
 features. He  wore dark  green clothes,  tunic and  pants, and  held a
 staff in one hand. Close as she stood to him, Kera could not determine
 where he ended and the tree began. It almost seemed that they were one
 and the same.
      She took a  hesitant step back, wondering where he  came from and
 who he was. Her  hand jerked to her belt, to draw  the dagger, but she
 stopped herself. The man made no  threatening gestured and she did not
 want to seem aggressive to him.
      She noticed that his eyes were crystal blue, just like Rien's and
 his almost white hair fell half  way down his back, also blending with
 the trunk of the tree. She stood  like that for a long time, examining
 him, aware that his eyes were tightly focused on her. She took another
 step back. "Um...hi... I'm looking..."
      The man  silently pointed  further into  the forest.  Neither his
 motion,  nor  expression betrayed  emotion  or  malicious intent.  His
 movements were  fluid, almost as if  leaves blowing in the  wind. Kera
 cautiously stepped past  him, in the direction he pointed.  It was not
 the one the arrow had indicated, but he was the first living thing she
 met in the forest and for the time being, she was willing to trust his
 knowledge of the woods.
      "How far...?"
      There was no  answer. She swallowed hard, turned her  back on him
 and continued on. She  hopped he was not showing her  the way back. It
 was nearing dusk, with sunlight no longer cutting through the branches
 of the trees, now  hanging far to the west, just over  the tops of the
 mountains. The  forest was now eerily  quiet. There were no  sounds of
 birds or rustling leaves. Most importantly, the animal cries were gone
 as well. The dead silence, disturbed  only by her footsteps, made Kera
 feel  uneasy. It  seemed as  if the  trees had  eyes and  paused their
 conversations as she  passed, watching her go by  them, pretending not
 to be afraid.
      It began to get dark when  Kera once again stopped before a large
 tree in her path.  A man stood there. The same man?  She was not sure.
 His clothes were  grey, but hair just  as white and as  long. His eyes
 were  bright  yellow, almost  glowing  in  the settling  darkness.  He
 stepped forward, separating from the tree and walked past Kera without
 saying a  word. She turned  to look, surprised  that just a  few yards
 behind her the forest opened into  a clearing. She just walked through
 that part of the woods!
      Feeling completely  disoriented, Kera  followed the man  into the
 clearing  where a  low fire  burned in  a small  fire pit.  Slowly she
 realized that the clearing was  filled with people. They all appeared,
 in some way,  not human. Tall, slender, having  either extremely light
 or  extremely dark  hair. Their  eyes were  all focused  on her,  some
 almost glowing, almost seeing through  her. Many were armed with bows,
 some carried swords.
      Four of them were seated around  the fire, three men and a woman.
 They  were  looking at  her  with  what  seemed  to be  suspicion  and
 contempt.
      "Y ean  shipy si'  eels'popa," the  man who  brought her  said to
 those at the fire.
      A blond man stood up. "Z'I' il ja. Z'Y' pee'P iu tee'L zeer."
      The language  mixed with  the sudden wind,  sounding almost  as a
 natural part  of the forest.  The spirits of Charnelwood  were finally
 speaking. Kera knew that she had found the place.
      "Y  sheaf' zeer  f'Eeji Ree'N  icheepiy," the  man answered.  "Ja
 earb'Epee'P si'  pa s'peavee'L sipiy."  The words passed  Kera without
 making any sense.
      As she looked, Kera noticed Rien stand up and step forward.
      "Z'I' il ja," the man at the  fire turned to him. It sounded like
 a question. Many heads turned.
      "S'peafeemee'L chinbealeel."
      The voice  sounded nothing  like Rien. It  was soft  and flowing,
 mixing with the natural sounds of the forest.
      "Reez!" a harsh  exclamation sounded from a woman  on the ground.
 Kera had no trouble guessing she was upset. Rien remained motionless.
      "Y 'Pil s  d'Eals si' shi zonealil zeepia eac'Il,"  a dark haired
 man at the fire said, without getting  up or taking his eyes off Kera.
 She could feel tension build up.
      "C'Ees zeer us  is zeepia," the blond man who  had stood answered
 and sat back down.
      Rien walked over to Kera, roughly  taking her arm and leading her
 into the forest. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed as they left
 the clearing. "You could've been killed!" He released her and gave her
 a shove forward.
      "I'm sorry. A courier came. He had  a message for you. He said it
 was urgent and he could only wait a day."
      Lines  of concern  appeared  on Rien's  face.  "Wait here.  Don't
 move!" He disappeared  into the almost total  darkness, somewhere back
 where the clearing  was. Kera could barely see the  traces of the fire
 and sense the smoke from the burning wood.
      The wind continued to blow and leaves and branches rustle, making
 Kera wonder if that was elven  speech. Long minutes passed before Rien
 returned. He looked her in the eyes and shook his head.
      "I'm sorry. I thought this was important enough to come."
      "I hope you're wrong," he told her and walked away.
      "Rien, wait!" Kera caught up to him. "I'm sorry."
      He paused long enough to let her catch up, but said nothing.
      "Rien?"
      He did not answer.
      "Rien?"
      "What?"
      "Please understand."
      "Kera, you could have been killed if the Dopkalfar saw you first.
 The  only reason  you were  permitted to  pass and  brought to  me was
 because they saw  you with me a  few days ago. There's a  lot of anger
 there right now.  It may effect the decision they  make. The villagers
 here depend on that  decision. If the war comes this  far, it may mean
 the difference between life and death for them."
      "I'm sorry.  How many  times do I  need to say  that to  make you
 understand I mean it?"
      Rien remained quiet.
      "I  did  what I  thought  best.  If  the  courier's rush  is  any
 indication of the message's importance, I  feel I did the only thing I
 could."
      "I hope you're wrong," Rien stopped. His eyes seemed as bright as
 those of the  other elves Kera saw. "Because if  you're right, none of
 our lives may ever be the same again."

                             *          *          *

      "Sir Keegan!" the messenger stood up as Rien and Kera entered the
 great hall. He  immediately took a rolled up parchment  from under his
 tunic and handed it to Rien.
      Kera stopped a few yards short of the courier, not wanting to get
 in Rien's way. He was tense the  entire trip back, snapping at her and
 refusing to talk. The messenger's willingness to stay up and wait only
 emphasized the urgency of the message and Kera feared what it might be
 all about.
      "Who sent this?" Rien asked, cracking the wax seal.
      "Lord Yasarin." Kera had never heard the name.
      Rien unrolled  the sheet and read  it. Kera wished she  could see
 his face,  but did not dare  to approach. If Rien's  shifting in place
 was any  indication, the  news was  not good.  It seemed  like forever
 before he put the paper down.
      "When did  you leave  Port Sevlyn?" His  voice was  hard, tension
 obvious in the way he spoke.
      "On the eighth, Sir."
      "The army was there?"
      "Yes, Sir."
      Rien  turned  away, looking  at  Kera.  She  could not  read  his
 expression. It was like nothing she had ever seen.
      "Rest tonight. I'll have a reply for you to take back tomorrow."
      "Take back, Sir?"
      Rien looked back  at him. "No. You're to stand  down. Stay out of
 the war."
      "Sir?"
      "Just do it. Go."
      "Yes, Sir." The courier turned and left.
      Rien leaned on the table, his  arms on either side of the letter,
 seemingly  reading it  again.  Kera  waited, not  sure  if she  should
 interrupt.  What could  that letter  say? What  was happening  at Port
 Sevlyn?
      "Guard!" Rien  called one  of the men  patrolling the  great hall
 over. "Wake Baron Dower. I will wait for him in the library."
      "Now, Sir?"
      "Now!"
      The man rushed  off, up the wide staircase leading  to the second
 floor of  the keep.  Rien picked  up the parchment  and rolled  it up,
 turning to face Kera.
      "Rien?"
      He did  not look at her.  "Come on," his hand  wrapped around her
 arm and he almost dragged her to the library.
      "Rien?"
      "Yes, I'm listening."
      "What's wrong?"
      They  walked into  the library  and Rien  closed the  door behind
 them. "Adrea never made it out of Sharks' Cove," he muttered.
      Kera  remembered  well the  argument  Rien  and Adrea  had  about
 leaving Sharks'  Cove. He insisted that  it was dangerous to  stay and
 she  argued that  there will  be  plenty of  warning in  the event  of
 Beinison attack.  Had the war finally  come to Sharks' Cove?  That was
 the one  thing no  one mentioned.  All the news  of fighting  has been
 coming  from the  eastern part  of the  country, the  Baranur-Beinison
 boarder.
      "What happened?" Kera asked.
      "Sharks' Cove  fell to  the Beinison  army on  the fifth  of this
 month. By now, so did Port Sevlyn."
      "What?!"
      Rien sat  down, rubbing  his eyes.  "All of  Quinnat is  in enemy
 hands. They are probably at Gateway now...maybe even at Magnus..."
      Kera paled. How could this happen so soon? How could the Beinison
 army get so far up the river  so quickly? Sharks' Cove and Port Sevlyn
 were major cities. Gateway was a military garrison designed for events
 such as this. "You can't be serious..."
      "I'm  completely  serious. When  this  message  was written,  the
 Beinison army was in sight of Port  Sevlyn and there was no militia to
 defend them."
      Kera took a  deep, abrupt, breath. "Then we lost  without so much
 as a chance."
      Rien walked over to the  bookshelves and studied the titles, then
 selecting one, picked it up and opened it.
      "What are you reading?"
      "Baranurian Military Disposition." He slammed the book shut. "Two
 regiments!"
      The door into the library opened  and Baron Dower walked in. Kera
 was surprised that he still wore his night clothes.
      "What is it, Rien?" the Baron asked.
      "Sit down."  Rien's voice  was forceful, almost  as if  giving an
 order. The Baron paused to look at him, but sat down. Kera expected to
 hear an  argument, or at least  a reprimand for Rien's  tone of voice,
 but none came.
      "...Twelve days  ago Sharks' Cove  fell to a combined  assault of
 the Beinison army and navy..."
      The Baron stood back up.
      "...on the  morning of  the ninth  an estimated  twenty regiments
 stood ready to attack Port Sevlyn..."
      Kera noticed the Baron's hands tense.
      "...Port Sevlyn  only had the  local militia to defend  with. Two
 thousand men strong at the most. I have no reason to believe there was
 no attack."
      "Where did you get that?"
      Rien held up the rolled up parchment.
      "The courier? He brought this? I told  him to give it to me if it
 was important!"
      "He was under orders to deliver it to me."
      "That's no  excuse," the  Baron started, but  immediately changed
 the topic.  "Where the hell  was our army?"  The words were  said with
 such strength that Kera took an involuntary step back.
      "About three  regiments, all light infantry,  were lost defending
 the bay. Another  four, under the command of Lord  Morion, didn't stop
 at  Port Sevlyn  long enough  to drink  their water.  Word has  it Sir
 Ailean died in the battle for Sharks' Cove."
      "They're marching  straight on  Magnus!" the Baron  exclaimed. He
 looked at the  map on the wall between two  book cases. "Gateway's the
 next garrison they'll encounter. Two regiments."
      "Both Royal Duchy  Militia," Rien added. "I  imagine that's where
 Lord Morion will want to make his stand."
      "Six  light and  medium infantry  regiments against  twenty?" the
 Baron asked. "They'll never make it!"
      "If that's  what he's doing,  I don't think  he wants to  win the
 battle. His goal at Gateway would be to win time."
      "Time for what? There are only seven regiments in Magnus." ReVell
 Dower  walked over  to the  window, looking  into the  darkness. Seven
 regiments were nothing, no matter how  well trained. The sheer bulk of
 the enemy  force would  crush them  in a matter  of days.  "They won't
 stand a chance.  The two green militia regiments will  fall without so
 much as a struggle. The Huscarls will stubbornly try to hold the whole
 city and  when they take enough  losses, back off to  the Old Quarter.
 And the Royal  Guard will, of corse,  fight to the last  in the castle
 and lose."
      "They'd  be more  organized if  they all  fought together,"  Rien
 said.
      "Yes, but that's the stupid  split regiment system. If Wainwright
 weren't such a horse's ass and cooperated with Sothos, they could have
 an organized defense!"
      "I don't understand why there were so few troops stationed on the
 Laraka,"  Rien said.  "Sothos must've  know  how likely  an attack  on
 Shandayma was!"
      "Maybe, maybe not," ReVell muttered.
      "That's still thirteen regiments the  Beinison force will have to
 fight," Rien added as an after thought.
      "One  by one,  thirteen  is negligible.  Their  chances would  be
 better if they stood as one!"
      "Untar can't  be so  arrogant as  to have  them march  right into
 Magnus, could he?"
      "What's to  stop him?  An ancient  broken fort at  a fork  in the
 road? He went through all of Quinnat in a matter of days. Magnus isn't
 much tougher."
      "Welspeare and Monrodya may send reinforcements," Rien suggested,
 his voice filled with doubt.
      "Arvalia can send reinforcements," the Baron said.
      "But your troops were meant to reinforce Leftwich!"
      "Leftwich won't matter if Magnus is gone."
      Rien nodded. ReVell  was right. Not much would  matter to Baranur
 if Haralan's rule were to end. "What are you going to do?"
      ReVell Dower confidently  walked to the door and  pulled it open.
 "Guard! I want to  see Sir Bonhan and Sir Hardin  now!" He slammed the
 door shut. "I have three regiments here, including one heavy infantry.
 If  I march  directly  on Gateway,  I  can also  pick  up the  Seventh
 Baranurian Rangers in Cynnyd. This will leave two militia regiments in
 Hawksbridge, along with the Eighth  Baranurian Rangers on the Monrodya
 boarder and another heavy infantry regiment. That should be plenty for
 the Duke."
      "What  can you  do with  four regiments?"  Rien asked.  "It'll be
 suicide to confront the Beinison army like that."
      "If there's  been a miracle at  Gateway, they can use  four fresh
 regiments. If not, then  I'll make a direct attack on  the rear of the
 Beinison  army at  Magnus. Four  regiments aren't  much, but  they can
 produce quite a bite."
      "That's a one thousand league march. You won't be there until mid
 to late Yuli at the earliest,"  Rien protested. "It may already be too
 late now."
      "Faith, Rien. Faith! Where there's no hope, there's no chance for
 victory!"
      "I just don't want to see  you die out there, ReVell," Rien said.
 "I agree with sacrifice, but not with suicide. If you can't change the
 tide of the battle, then there's no reason for you to die in it."
      "This isn't  about life  and death,"  ReVell said,  speaking with
 great conviction. "War has never been about life and death. It's about
 freedom and rights, because those are the things easiest to lose. This
 country has had a good line of kings. Losing that would destroy us..."
      There was a knock at the door.
      "...I intend to go to make a difference, not to die, but if death
 is a part of  that, then it's a necessary part. I'm  willing to do all
 that I have to."
      The knock sounded again.
      "Come!" the Baron returned to his desk and sat down.
      The door opened  and the two knights that had  been called walked
 in.  They both  seemed sleepy,  but  were properly  dressed. Each  man
 greeted the Baron and Rien.
      "I think  you'd best be  the one to  tell them, Rien,"  the Baron
 said.
      Rien nodded thoughtfully, then looked  up where Kera stood in the
 corner, watching  the exchange, all  but forgotten  by the men  in the
 room. "Kera, go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
      She hesitated for  a moment, wanting to hear  the discussion, see
 what the final decision would be,  but instead walked over to the door
 and pulled  it open. It was  her duty as  Rien's squire to do  what he
 said, not  argue or ask  questions. She  had promised him  and herself
 that she would see  this through and be the best  squire she could and
 eventually become a knight.
      "Kera," Rien's voice stopped her. "Thank you."
      She turned and smiled at him, not sure if he was thanking her for
 leaving or  risking everything to find  him to bring him  back. He was
 right when he  said that if she  did the right thing  calling him from
 his  tribe, it  could only  mean  that the  unthinkable had  happened.
 Indeed, it has. These could perhaps be the last days of Baranur.
      Before returning  to her  room, Kera  stopped at  the picturesque
 wall sized  map of Baranur  in the great hall  and looked at  the keep
 representing  Gateway. It  was maybe  two hundred  fifty leagues  from
 Magnus, about as  far as from Sharks' Cove to  Port Sevlyn, a distance
 the Beinison army covered in just  a few days forced march. There were
 another hundred  or so  leagues between Port  Sevlyn and  Gateway. How
 long could that take?  An extra few days? By now it  could all be gone
 and Untar the Second could be sitting on Haralan Tallirhan's throne.
      "Beautiful, isn't she?" a guard's  voice startled Kera. He paused
 by  her, admiring  the map  she  looked at,  taking a  break from  his
 rounds. "Just look at all that!  Our fathers and forefathers took this
 land from the wild and the barbarian tribes that roamed it and made it
 into what it is now and the Beinison generals think they can just take
 it all away. Never! No foreign  sword will control any portion of what
 we  are! Baranur  has been  forged in  the fires!  You remember  that,
 girl!"
      Kera smiled at him nervously and nodded.
      "Good night," the guard went on, down the great hall.
      How wrong he was, she thought. How much is already lost.
      She returned to her room, lit  a candle and prepared for bed. She
 could only  guess at what  was happening in  the library this  late at
 night, what kinds  of conclusions would be made,  decisions arrived at
 and how different  the world would be tomorrow  morning. Kera wondered
 about what had  happened to Adrea and what would  happen to her little
 girl, now in the south of Baranur  with Brice, if she were killed. The
 first time they met, Adrea accepted  Kera with no questions, going out
 of her  way to make  her feel comfortable  and welcome. At  first Kera
 suspected it  was because of Rien,  but as time went  on, she realized
 that that  was Adrea's  nature. She  was always  kind to  everyone and
 always helpful.
      The candle's dying light caught Kera's attention and she wondered
 how lost she had become in her  memories and worries. When she lit the
 candle, it was a long way from burning out.
      Getting  into bed,  Kera  permitted the  flame  die out,  letting
 darkness settle in around her.

                             *          *          *

      Early in the morning, following the directions of one of the keep
 guards,  Kera found  Rien  on  top of  the  watch tower,  thoughtfully
 looking into the  forest. The guards he had chased  away from the post
 walked the  length of the  rampart on  the keep wall,  quietly talking
 about having drawn the night shift yet again.
      "Rien?" Kera asked, stopping just short of him.
      It took him unusually long  to respond. He shifted, then motioned
 her over, not saying a word.
      "Are you okay? I'm sorry about yesterday."
      He nodded. "ReVell wants me to lead the ranger regiment. He feels
 I'm most qualified."
      Kera felt her heart sink. Join the war? "Are you?"
      "I prefer peace," he answered.
      "Are you most qualified? Will you do it?"
      He did  not answer for  a long time,  making Kera suspect  he had
 decided to go. She would, of course,  go with him. She was his squire,
 after all. What  she did not know  was if that was what  she wanted to
 do.
      "At any other time I would have agreed to do what he asked," Rien
 said.  "The  arguments presented  were  most  convincing and  while  I
 completely disagree with participating in a  war for any reason, he is
 absolutely right that unless each of us does his part, we can not call
 this land home or this country our own. Every bit of strength we exert
 for the crown makes this country that much more powerful."
      Kera felt her heart beat faster. "`Any other time'?" she repeated
 his words.
      "Long before  this situation arose, I  made a promise that  I now
 have to keep. Adrea never came out  of Sharks' Cove and I have to find
 her and get her out."
      "Sharks' Cove?  It's well over  three hundred leagues  behind the
 enemy line!" Kera exclaimed.
      "A promise is a promise."
      There was  obviously no talking  him out  of his decision  and no
 further arguments would help. "When are we leaving?"
      "We?" It was  the first time this morning he  looked at her. "I'm
 going alone. It's too dangerous for you."
      "You can't go alone! You'll need help. And she's my friend, too!"
 Kera did  not really  want to  go, but she  would do  it for  Rien and
 Adrea. She felt she owed them at least that much.
      "No. I'll  be in the  heart of Beinison held  territory. Besides,
 Deven will be with me. I don't want you getting hurt."
      "And you think I want you getting hurt?"
      "Kera," he sighed, "you're my squire. My obligation to you is not
 just to make you into a knight. It  is also to teach you and guide you
 and  when the  need  is  there, protect  you,  until  you can  protect
 yourself. I judge this to be too dangerous for you to come."
      "I  lived my  life  in  the streets  of  Dargon,  taking care  of
 myself!" her  voice was filled  with anger. "I  damn well know  how to
 take care of myself!"
      "I'm sorry,  but I don't  think you're  quite ready for  war. You
 will remain at Valdasly until you hear from me."
      "Rien, please!"
      He shook  his head. "I  don't want you  following me into  a war.
 Promise me that you won't do what you did yesterday, no matter what."
      She tried to  stare him down, but  it did not work.  His mind was
 made up long before she tried to change it.
      "I'll worry about you."
      "I'd be worried if you wouldn't."
      "When are you leaving?"
      "In a few hours. As soon as  my things are ready. I'll be leaving
 Kelsey and my armor here."
      "How will you go?"
      "ReVell is giving me a horse from his stables, a very fast one. I
 need to get to Sharks' Cove as quickly as I can."
      Kera put her arms around Rien,  pulling him close to herself. "Be
 careful."
      "I will."  She felt his cheek  against her temple. "I  have every
 intention to come back."
      "I love you," Kera whispered as a tear ran down her cheek.
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------
      (C)    Copyright   May,    1993,   DargonZine,    Editor   Dafydd
 <[email-masked]>. All  rights revert to the  authors. These stories
 may  not  be  reproduced  or   redistributed  (save  in  the  case  of
 reproducing  the whole  'zine  for further  distribution) without  the
 express permission of the author involved.