The Chalice 
The Sword, the Ring, and the Chalice, book 3 
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Part One 
I 
In upland Mandria, pewter-gray clouds scudded low over woods and marshland alike. A light but steady 
drizzlethe kind that rusted mail and weapons faster than squires could polish them clean againhad 
been falling all day. The road was muddy and rutted, hindering the already slow progress of the 
expedition. Dain and Prince Gavril, united in their quest to save Lady Pheresas life, were traveling 
northward with a large force of church soldiers and priests. 
Clad in a quilted wool undertunic, a fine hauberk of triple-linked mail, a green surcoat, and a heavy 
cloak of dark wool, Dain was riding along, lost in his own thoughts, when he sensed something unusual. 
At once he spurred his horse, Soleil, off the road and into the woods that lay eastward. 
His protector, Sir Terent, cantered after him, crashing through the undergrowth and slinging mud as he 
came. 
Reining up, Dain gestured for Sir Terent to turn back, but he was too late. The hind that had been 
frozen with fright in the bushes leaped from cover and bounded away with a white flash of her tail. 
Swiftly Dain tried to capture what might lie in her dim mind, but all he found there was a frantic 
run/run/run/run. 
Disappointed, he let the contact fade and stayed a moment beneath the shelter of the trees. Ah, it felt 
good to inhale the fragrances of damp soil, mossy tree bark, the rotting leaves underfoot, and the 
marshland in the distance. The frosty bite to the air stung his cheeks and numbed his fingers, but he 
welcomed the cold. Foliage blazed in hues of scarlet and gold, and leaves drifted down around them, 
cartwheeling across the ground wherever the wind gusted. 
Sir Terent rode up beside him. Muscular and ruddy-faced, the knight protector was rough-hewn and 
unpolished. But his gruff exterior belied a heart both true and loyal. Right now, he was looking puzzled. 
What set you this way, sire? Were you thinking to course game? 
Nay, Dain said with scorn. Unlike Gavril, I need no sport to amuse me. I thought I sensed 
something. 
Nonkind? 
Nay ... Frowning, Dain turned his face eastward again. He listened, but all he could hear was the 
clanking, creaking progress of the wagons and the steady plod of the church soldiers horses. Theyd

been eight days on the road thus far, since disembarking from the royal barges at the river town of 
Tu-isons, and at this slow rate of travel theyd be at least that many days moreif not longerbefore 
they reached the Netheran border. Since yesterday, Dain had been troubled by an uneasy feeling of 
being followed. It came and went, as light and elusive as the breeze. 

been eight days on the road thus far, since disembarking from the royal barges at the river town of 
Tu-isons, and at this slow rate of travel theyd be at least that many days moreif not longerbefore 
they reached the Netheran border. Since yesterday, Dain had been troubled by an uneasy feeling of 
being followed. It came and went, as light and elusive as the breeze.

 Dain shook his head in frustration. He didnt want to tell his protector that of late his eld senses 
seemed sometimes clouded and uncertain. If he opened himself too much, there came an assault of 
men-minds all jumbled with thoughts of piety, war, jealousy, worry, and vengeance. Added to that was 
the odd spell woven by the priest guardians keeping Lady Pheresa alive. It wasnt magic exactly, but 
something mysterious and unexplained. Although Dain felt no serious harm in it, it made him uneasy and 
restless.

 He longed to get away from all of them, longed to lose himself deep in the forests, to find peace and 
quiet for a time. But such a wish was only self-indulgence; he could not afford it now.

 Nothing, he said to Sir Terent with a shrug. I thought we might be followed.

 If not by Nonkind, who?

 Dain frowned. He could not help but glance at the trees once more, although there was nothing to be 
seen among them.

 Sir Terent grunted. Bandits, mayhap. We travel rich enough to tempt anyone.

 If they attack, theyll rue the exercise.

 Exchanging grins, they let their horses amble back toward thejoad. The company was still moving at a 
steady pace. Church soldiers, wearing their distinctive white surcoats with the black circles on both 
breast and back, trotted past. Their helmets were tied to their saddlecloths. They rode with spurs and 
bridles jingling. Yet for all their noise and chatter, they stayed watchful and alert.

 Although Dain had no liking for these knights and their rigid set of pious beliefs, they were well-trained 
warriors, stalwart enough to ward off most trouble. No bandit with any sense would dare confront a 
hundred armed knights, no matter how tempting the contents of these many wagons.

 It was not bandits, however, that worried Dain. There was much unrest across these uplands. The 
common folk who emerged from small villages to watch their progress cheered little and seemed relieved 
to see them go. Now and then they came across an isolated homestead that had been burned out or else 
stood deserted.

 As for this sense of being watched, Dain wished he could determine what was bothering his instincts. 
All he knew was that it was hostile.

 A shout rang out, rousing him from his thoughts. Dain saw four knights galloping toward him, with a 
familiar, red-haired figure in their midst. Feeling exasperated beyond measure, Dain scowled at them.

 Lord Faldain, hold there! called one of the knights.

 But Dain had already reined up.

 Beside him, Sir Terent scowled. Damne, they do insult you without fail.

 Since the first day of this journey, the church soldiers had steadfastly refused to address Dain by any 
rank higher than chevard. Despite King Verences public acknowledgment of Dain as a prince of Nether, 
Mandrian prejudice against the eldin grew from deep roots, fostered by the Reformed Church. Although 
these knights were required to treat Dain as nobly born, they expressed their disapproval in myriad ways. 
Calling him by his lesser rank was but one of them. Coming here now, with his squire Thum in tow, was 
no doubt yet another.

 Sir Terents hand went to his sword hilt. Time they had a bit of courtesy stuffed down their gullets.

 Nay, Dain said sharply to him. You know my wishes in this matter.

 Growling, Sir Terent subsided, but his green eyes were afire with resentment as the soldiers came up.

 Their officer, Sir Wiltem, was a burly man of middle years whose nose had been broken often in past 
conflicts. He stopped his horse directly in front of Dains and glared at him. Is this your man? he asked 
curtly, gesturing at Thum.

 Dain looked his friend over swiftly. Although pale enough to make his freckles stand out like spots, 
Thum showed no bruise marks. He sat upright in his saddle, his gloved hands clenching the reins, his 


breath steaming about his set face. He looked furious, but unharmed.

breath steaming about his set face. He looked furious, but unharmed.

 You know him to be Thum du Maltie, my squire, Dain replied with equal brusqueness. What do 
you with him?

 We were on scout patrol, and caught him sneaking away

 I was not! Thum said indignantly, glaring at the knight. Morde a day, but this is the basest slander. I 
was riding on my business in plain view.

 The man ignored Thums protest completely and went on scowling at Dain. Your squire has no leave 
to depart the company. He can produce no writ of authority from Lord Barthomew. Nor would he tell us 
his destination.

 Release him, Sir Wiltem, Dain said in rising annoyance. He rides to Thirst Hold, by my order.

 And has your lordship permission from his highness to dispatch this rider?

 Dains fists clenched hard on the reins. Sir Wiltem, he said in a voice like iron, we ride across Thirst 
land today. If anyones permission is required to come and go here, it is mine. Or have you forgotten I 
am chevard of Thirst, and by the kings own warrant?

 For a moment Sir Wiltem looked as though hed swallowed a wasp, then he bowed over his saddle. 
Your pardon, my lord. It did not occur to me

 Plainly, Dain snapped, cutting short his apology. His gray eyeseld eyesblazed at the officer, 
who shifted his gaze away uneasily.

 Sir Wiltem cleared his throat. We, er, have our commanders orders to keep all in the company 
close. For the safety of

 And do your orders tell you to interfere with my affairs? Dain broke in sharply.

 Anger flashed in Sir Wiltems eyes, but Dains gaze never wavered. Once again Sir Wiltem was the 
first to look away.

 The safety of this company is

 Thods bones, will you say that my squires departure threatens us?

 Sir Wiltems face reddened. I follow orders, my lord, he said stiffly.

 Then perhaps you are too zealous, sir, Dain told him. Be sure your orders do not again interfere 
with what I tell my men to do.

 Sir Wiltems eyes were stony, his face impassive. The offense hed given was serious, but clearly hed 
offered all the apology he meant to.

 Without another word, he wheeled his horse around and rode away with his men, cutting through the 
line of wagons lurching ponderously along the road.

 Glaring after them, Thum spat eloquently.

 Sir Terent flung back a fold of his cloak. Hah, sire! That told em! Tis good to see Wiltem put in his 
place; aye, and well-whipped with reprimand. Hell think twice ere he crosses your majestys will again.

 Dain was less sure. The church soldiers allegiance belonged

 to Gavril and Noncire; Dains authority in this expedition was slight indeed. Although the plan was for 
him to enter Nether disguised and unnoticed, he now wished hed accepted Prince Spirins offer to send 
an entourage of exiles with him. Aside from a few servants provided by King Verence, Dain had only his 
few loyal companions from Thirst to stand by him. At times like these, he felt himself to be teetering on a 
political precipice.

 Did they harm you? he asked Thum.

 Nay, Im well, his friend replied. Lanky, tall, and still growing, Thum du Maltie had of late grown a 
small brown chin-beard and narrow mustache which made him look more mature than his actual years. A 
well-born, quiet-spoken young man, Thum seldom lost his temper. But right now, his ire was hot, and his 
hazel-green eyes were snapping.

 I tried to outrun them, but they cut me off, he said. I had a bad moment or two when I thought they 
might run me through. Thods bones, they acted like I was a dire enemy instead of a mere messenger.

 Those knights werent scouting, Sir Terent said scornfully. They acted with direct intent, or Im 


a

a

 Thum shook his head. Their saying I refused to tell them my business is a lie! They never asked, just 
rounded me up and forced me to come back with them. He frowned at Dain. Its wondrous strange.

 No stranger than refusing to spend the night at any hold weve passed thus far, Dain said 
thoughtfully. He looked ahead at the wagons rolling up the muddy road. Theres need for haste, but this 
goes too far. The lady cannot keep up such a pace.

 Thum sighed. Were crawling. Mud or not, these kine could pull faster if

 For her, its fast enough, Dain said sharply, then softened his tone. Well, no matter now. My 
message must still go to the hold.

 Thum gathered his reins at once. Then Im to ride again?

 Dain nodded. Lets hope you reach it unhindered this time.

 Ill ride like the wind to make up for lost time. Thum wheeled his horse around, then spurred away in 
a gallop, his cloak billowing out behind him. In three huge bounds, horse and rider reached the trees and 
vanished from sight.

 I can send Polquin to follow him in case hes set upon again, Sir Terent offered.

 Dain frowned. Nay. If I know Thum, he wont be caught a second time.

 Hell be lucky to reach Thirsts gates before eventide, delayed like this. If they wont open for him

 Hell get there, Dain said, refusing to think of Thum being left stranded for the night outside the hold 
walls, shivering with cold and prey to whatever evil might lurk in the darkness. Hell think of that, and 
hell take no chances.

 Aye, hes a smart lad. Sir Terent inhaled deeply and glanced overhead at the drizzling sky. Its 
good indeed to be back on Thirst soil, sire.

 Dain smiled at him. Weve been away too long.

 That we have.

 Before tomorrows nightfall, Dain promised him, well be in our Hall, drinking Thirst cider.

 With roast pig in our trenchers?

 Dain laughed. Perhaps so. But now its time to talk to his highness about his meddling.

 Sir Terent sobered at once. Now, Dainuh, I mean, sire, he said uneasily. It aint wise to go 
picking a quarrel. Could be this was all Lord Barthomews idea.

 Barthomew cannot scratch himself without Gavrils suggestion.

 Sir Terent grinned. Aye, tis true enough. Still, it aint wise to fuss with his highness

 This is my land, Dain said grimly. And I owe Gavril no oath of fealty for it. He should not interfere 
with me here.

 Sir Terent looked alarmed. His highness will do whatever he chooses. You know that.

 / know that tomorrow night Lady Pheresa will rest inside Thirsts walls as long as she needs to.

 Not giving Sir Terent time to think up any more objections, Dain kicked Soleil forward and rode to the 
front of the column.

 He passed the numerous wagons piled high with provisions, tents, clothes chests, and countless gifts of 
great cost which Gavril intended to give to King Muncel for his assistance in their quest to save Pheresa.

 The lady herself traveled in the foremost wagon, lying in her glass encasement with a blanket spread 
over it to shield her from curious eyes. Next to her sat Megala, her serving woman, today a cold huddled 
figure in her damp cloak. On either side of Pheresas wagon rode the thirteen guardians on donkeys. 
These priests were entrusted with the difficult task of sustaining the spell of faith which kept her alive. 
Cowled and silent, each guardian was attended by a monk assigned to lead the donkeys and bring food 
and drink when needed. It was paramount that the guardians never be distracted, never be required to 
perform the most mundane task, never even be spoken to directly. All their attention and energy had to 
remain focused on their difficult task.

 And that it was difficult Dain had no doubt. Several times hed heard some of the guardians moan 
aloud whenever Pheresa suffered most.

 Dain could not bear to look at her encasement, traveling well-secured with ropes to keep it from 


shifting. Each time he thought of her, afflicted with poison and paralyzed inside this mysterious Mandrian 
spell that kept her alive, he wanted to cry aloud with anguish. She was so beautiful and good. She had 
never done anyone harm. She deserved nothing as terrible as this affliction. Every morn when he awoke, 
he renewed his vow to find a way to save this sweet maid whod stolen his heart.

shifting. Each time he thought of her, afflicted with poison and paralyzed inside this mysterious Mandrian 
spell that kept her alive, he wanted to cry aloud with anguish. She was so beautiful and good. She had 
never done anyone harm. She deserved nothing as terrible as this affliction. Every morn when he awoke, 
he renewed his vow to find a way to save this sweet maid whod stolen his heart.

 Megala, clutching her cloak beneath her chin, bowed to him nervously and would not directly meet his 
eld eyes. Well enough, sir, she replied. The pains trouble her, I think. She cries a little in her sleep, 
poor lamb.

 Fresh worry filled Dain. The spell holding Pheresa safe sometimes grew weak and allowed the poison 
to progress further through her body. Thats when her pain came back.

 Unhappy to hear that the lady was failing again, Dain spurred Soleil onward and rode past the flag 
bearers. Gavrils blue and gold pennon hung slack in todays rain, as did the cardinals yellow one and 
the black and white banner of the church soldiers. Yet another man carried the brown flag of pilgrimage, 
although its display was unnecessary until they reached the Netheran border.

 At the very front of the column, Gavril rode astride a magnificent black horse caprisoned in silver. 
Surrounded by his personal guards, lord protector, noble-born squires, Lord Barthomew and two other 
church knight officers, a minstrel, and various advisers, Gavril glowed with proud self-importance. 
Although he remained as handsome as ever, of late hed begun to look thin and sometimes haggard. It 
was rumored he did not sleep well. Among the men it was said that the princes worry for his betrothed 
affected him. Dain, however, believed that Gavril was pining for Tanengard. Against all common sense, 
the tainted sword had been brought with them, locked away in a box among the baggage. Dain had 
silenced its terrible song for a while, but he knew eventually its power would begin to stir anew. When it 
did, Gavril would not be able to resist its call.

 Still, however hard his personal demons might drive him, Gavril had not lost his taste for finery. Today, 
his gold-colored chain mail shone brightly despite dreary rain and mud. A vivid blue cloak lined with pale, 
exquisite lyng fur protected him from the elements. His gauntlets were stitched of costly blue leather, with 
his crest embroidered on the cuffs.

 At his side rode Cardinal Noncire, whose obese bulk flowed over the saddle in all directions. Robed 
in black wool with a yellow sash of office beneath his fur-lined cloak, the cardinal looked like an immense 
pillow balanced precariously atop his stout, slow-moving horse. Hooded against the rain, Noncire 
appeared grim and miserable as he conversed with the prince.

 As Dain rode up, Gavrils guards glanced his way, instantly alert, and his protector wheeled about to 
put himself between Dain and the prince.

 Lord Kress, who is that? Gavril called out, pretending he could not see Dain clearly.

 It is I, Dain said impatiently.

 Ah, Faldain, Gavril said in his mocking way. Move aside, Kress, and let our visitor approach.

 The protector reined back his horse, and Dain rode up between Gavril and Noncire.

 The cardinal stared at Dain through his small, beady eyes, and instinctively Dain stiffened in his saddle. 
He did not trust this cunning schemer, who spoke so softly and kindly, yet had a heart of flint. Noncire 
was neither friend nor ally to Dain, and never would be. After giving Dain a cold stare, he bowed his 
head slightly in a token gesture of courtesy.

 Dain nodded back to him and turned his attention to Gavril. He had his temper in hand. He intended to 
start with diplomacy. My thanks for your reception, he said politely.

 The prince, his handsome face looking tired beneath a thin, light brown mustache, eyed Dain with even 
more coldness than had the cardinal. What do you want?

 I offer invitation and hospitality, Dain said. On the morrow, let us stop at Thirst Hold and bide 
there.

 A twisted smile appeared fleetingly on Gavrils face. He glanced across Dain at Noncire. It seems 
that our kingly companion wishes to play host.

 Noncire stroked his gray goatee. The offer is well-intentioned, your highness. A rest in some comfort 
would be most welcome to all, Im sure. 


 There is no comfort to be had at Thirst, lord cardinal. Tis a dour, drafty, inhospitable place, fit only 
for uplander barbarians.

 There is no comfort to be had at Thirst, lord cardinal. Tis a dour, drafty, inhospitable place, fit only 
for uplander barbarians.

 His small joke made Noncire smile, but Gavril seemed un-amused by the reference to their foster 
days, when Chevard Odfrey had kept Gavrils wines locked in the cellars and insisted all hold folk stay 
sober.

 No, Gavril said. We will not stop there.

 Dain sighed. Why is my offer not pleasing? I have sent a rider ahead to tell them we draw near. All 
will be prepared for our arrival.

 Gavril frowned. Damne, I gave orders against such

 So I learned, Dain said grimly. But my rider has been dispatched all the same.

 Fire sparked in Gavrils dark blue eyes. Do you dare defy me?

 Thirst is mine, by your fathers generosity, Dain said, knowing the reminder would twist Gavrils 
guts. Tis not defiance to order my men to meet certain responsibilities.

 You

 Please, Dain said, wanting to keep Gavril from working up his notorious temper. I offer this for 
Lady Pheresas sake. She grows worse. She needs rest.

 Well camp early today, Gavril said.

 Sleeping in a tent in the midst of a forest, with rain, mud, and inconvenience, is hardly the rest she 
needs, Dain said, trying to stay patient. At Thirst she can be made comfortable for a few days until 
she

 A few days! Thods grace, are you mad? Gavril shouted. There is no time for lolling at our ease 
while you play host.

 This is a hard journey we make. Surely

 You have done nothing but urge us forward since we left Savroix. When we were on the royal barge, 
you complained about how slowly the rowmen took us upriver against the current. When I would have 
taken Lord Ardelons recommendation to follow the kings road north, you insisted we take this one 
instead. No doubt because it runs past Thirst Hold.

 Dain frowned. This road is the shortest route

 Gavrils lip twisted. Yet how convenient for you. And how remarkable that now, after all your 
urgency and fretting, it seems you are no longer in such a hurry. Let us dally at Thirst, you say. Let us 
feast and take our ease and make merry.

 I only

 It is not Pheresa you think about, but rather yourself.

 Nay! Dain said angrily.

 Gavrils eyes flashed. You want time at Thirst to foment more unrest among the divisionists. You 
want to busy yourself raising an army among men inclined to forget they are loyal Mandrians first. 
You

 Have done, Dain snapped. Let it be Thirst or any other hold in the land. I care not. Only deliver the 
lady to a place of comfort. She suffers, and I seek only to alleviate that.

 Gavrils eyes grew hot and jealous. He glared at Dain. You would do well to remember that 
Pheresas welfare is my responsibility. Not yours. She is under excellent care. The physicians who attend 
her have assured me not an hour past that she remains strong.

 Her servant woman says otherwise.

 Morde! Gavril said as though driven to the limits of his patience. What care I for the opinion of an 
ignorant servant? Shall I listen to her instead of learned men?

 She

 And why should I listen to you? Gavril went on furiously. What knowledge of science do you 
possess?

 Dains mouth clamped tight. He sat there, feeling his pulse thud in his throat and temples. 


 Noncire cleared his throat. Perhaps, your highness

 Noncire cleared his throat. Perhaps, your highness

 Dains eyes narrowed at the insult. Behind him, Sir Terent inhaled sharply. For a moment, as Dain 
glared at Gavril, he saw only haze and fire. Then came a vision of himself, clad in rags, with a leather 
collar buckled around his neck and a chain leading from it like a dogs leash.

 This, Dain realized, stunned by his first direct glimpse into Gavrils mind, must be what Gavril really 
thought of him. This was what Gavril actually wanted from him. To the prince, Dain would always remain 
a pagan dog, fit only to sniff out the whereabouts of the missing Chalice.

 Rage burned inside Dain, rekindling his hatred of Gavril, which hed banked low on this expedition for 
Pheresas sake. Now it came up inside him like the spew of a volcano, hot and violent, and it was all he 
could do not to draw his weapon and challenge the prince then and there.

 Somehow, his good sense held him silent, though it took a severe struggle with himself to control his 
ire. His chest felt on fire, and his voice was hoarse when at last he said, Tomorrow I shall ride to Thirst, 
and deal with matters there as are needed. I am sorry your highness does not feel the lady merits its 
hospitality. No more will be said.

 Your time would be better spent searching for these mys-terious eld-folk you claim can cure her! 
Gavril said. At Savroix, you boasted you could find them. Yet where are they? Why do you not 
produce them? Instead of causing trouble among my fathers subjects, why dont you confine yourself to 
accomplishing your sole task on this quest?

 Dain glared at him, stiff with frustration. It was futile to keep arguing, he realized.

 Just as he started to back Soleil away, however, Megala stood up in the front wagon and screamed. 
My lady! she cried out. My lady! Help her!

 The driver of Pheresas wagon yanked his team to a lurching halt. Gripping the encasement to keep 
her balance, Megala screamed again.

 Horrified, Dain cried out, Pheresa!

 As Dain spurred Soleil in that direction, one of the guardians groaned loudly, clutched his head, and 
fell off his donkey. Church soldiers, frozen till then, rushed to his aid.

 Dain reached the wagon and flung himself off Soleil just as the guardian priest was lifted from the mud. 
The mans hood fell back to reveal his face, withered and drawn as though hed aged a century. Dain 
stared at him with astonishment, for to his knowledge none of the guardians were old. This mans eyes 
were open and staring fixedly, and his head lolled as though he were dead.

 Others crowded around, everyone talking at once. Dain elbowed and pushed his way through the 
confusion and climbed into Pheresas wagon just as Megala screamed again.

 She reached out her hands to Dain. Help her, she pleaded. Help my sweet lady!

 When Dain twitched aside a corner of the blanket, he saw Pheresa writhing inside the encasement. 
Her eyes were shut, but she was red-faced and clawing the glass with her Fingernails.

 Flinging aside all caution, he reached for the lid, but strong hands seized him from behind and pulled 
him back. Furious, Dain struggled, but Sir Terent had him clamped in a stout hug and would not release 
him.

 Let me go! Dain shouted. Damne! Let me go!

 I wont let you kill yourself. Come away! Sir Terent shouted back.

 Cursing, Dain twisted to get free. As he did so, the blanket slid off the glass entirely, revealing Pheresa 
in her agony to everyone.

 Cover her! Gavril commanded, riding up on his black horse. In Thods name, cover her now!

 Megala bent to pick up the blanket. A knight swung himself into the wagon and helped her spread the 
cloth over the encasement.

 Meanwhile, Dain was hauled bodily out of the wagon by Sir Terent. As soon as Dains feet hit the 
ground, he struggled and cursed with all his might, but Sir Terents hold was an expert one, and Dain 
could not break it.

 Sir Polquin arrived at a run, took one look at them, and helped Sir Terent manhandle Dain over to one 


side, well out of the way.

side, well out of the way.

 When he felt Sir Terents hold slacken, Dain wrenched free. How dare you pull me off that wagon!

 Im sworn to keep yer grace alive, Sir Terent said simply. If you touch her, youll die.

 That wasnt strictly true. Dain would be in danger only if he tried to draw the poison afflicting her into 
himself. But he did not have the healing gifts, and he knew he lacked sufficient skill to withstand the 
eld-poison in her veins. He started to explain all this yet again to Sir Terent, then told himself it was of no 
use.

 Frowning, he turned and headed back in Pheresas direction, where men were still shouting and 
hurrying to and fro. I must know what 
No, sire! Sir Terent called out in alarm. He ran to block Dains path, and there was fear in his face. 

In Thods name, dont risk it!

 Amazed, Dain stopped in his tracks. He had never seen Sir Terent like this before.

 Please, Sir Terent pleaded.

 She will not harm me. You need not

 She will, sire. She will, Sir Terent insisted. I know you have a generous heart and you would gladly 
risk yourself on her behalf, but you must not.

 Sighing, Dain gave up the argument. By then Sulein had come squelching through the mud, looking 
alarmed. Sulein, Dain said to him, make haste, and tell me what can be done for her?

 As I told your majesty before, the spell they have cast over her is weaker than they believe, Sulein 
said, steepling his long fingers together. If one of the guardians has collapsed, the spell is now out of 
balance. It may fail completely.

 Morde! Dain said in fresh alarm. He gripped Suleins sleeve. Come! We must help her.

 Your majesty forgets I am forbidden to attend the lady.

 But you know what to do. You can help her, cant you?

 Not giving Sulein a chance to answer, Dain stepped around Sir Terent and headed grimly toward the 
spot where Gavril was now standing, asking a question of one of the physicians.

 The spell cannot hold long without thirteen guardians, your highness, the physician replied loudly. 
The potion my colleague is giving her will ease her only if the spell can be rebalanced

 Agreed, Sulein said as he and Dain halted beside the princes group.

 Gavrils face clouded over, and the physician turned to look at Dain and Sulein with raised eyebrows.

 Silence fell over Gavril and his small group. The hauteur on their faces angered Dain, for their pride 
and bigotry put Pheresa at more risk.

 Cardinal Noncire gave Dain a very slight inclination of his head. I fear your majestys creature has no 
place here, he said quietly, with a hostile glance at Sulein. His opinion is not requested.

 Hear him, Dain said with equal coldness. For once, put aside your prejudice against all who are 
foreign. Master Suleins knowledge is more useful than you suppose.

 Gavril sniffed and swung his gaze back to the royal physician. And what is necessary to rebalance 
thethe means by which she is kept alive?

 Another guardian must be substituted or the spell will fail completely, Sulein said before the other 
physician could answer.

 Silence him! Gavril shouted at Dain. He has not my leave to speak.

 Ignoring the prince, Dain turned to Sulein. Could you take the fallen guardians place? he asked. 
Truthfully, he added in warning before Sulein answered. This is no time for ambition or vanity.

 Suleins dark eyes flashed in umbrage. Your majesty maligns me, he complained. But, yes, I 
possess the power and the skills for this kind of spell.

 Gavril stepped up to them, his dark blue eyes snapping with fury. He is dismissed, I said! This 
blasphemer will not go near my lady.

 Then shell die, Dain said harshly. At that moment, hed never despised Gavril more. Or is that 


what you really want?

what you really want?

 Before either of them could draw, Sir Terent and Lord Kress jumped between them.

 Please, please, excellencies! Cardinal Noncire called out. Consider the lady. This is no time for 
fighting.

 Dain took his hand off his sword hilt and stood there hot-cheeked and fuming while Gavrils face grew 
paler and paler until his eyes were like burning coals.

 Noncire turned to Sulein, and although a look of distaste crossed his fleshy face, his small black eyes 
never wavered. Give me the truth, Master Sulein. Can you contribute to the weavings of faith emanating 
from the guardians?

 Yes, I can, Sulein replied.

 You are not of the Circle, Noncire continued. Are you foe to it? If I permit you to join your skills 
with theirs, will you destroy what has been wrought or assist it?

 Sulein bowed to him. I will assist. This, I swear on all that is held most sacred.

 Dont let him near her! Gavril shouted. He would have rushed at Sulein, but his protector blocked 
his path. Gavril swore and struck the man with his fist, but Lord Kress grimly held firm. Keep him away 
from her! Gavril said. I command it!

 Dain started to protest, but instead stretched out his hand in appeal to the cardinal. Does it break the 
laws of Writ to let a nonbeliever give assistance?

 Noncire frowned, but before he could reply, Sulein pulled a Circle from his pocket and held it up. But 
I am a believer in the Circle, he announced. Because I am not Mandrian-born does not mean I have 
not heard the message of Tomias the Prophet.

 Dains head jerked around, and he stared at the physician with astonishment before he swiftly lowered 
his gaze. He felt certain that Sulein was lying. The physician seemed to accept any art or magic that 
would advance his greedy ambitions, but he was no member of the Reformed Church.

 Noncire seemed taken aback. Finally, however, he extended his hand in benediction to Sulein, who 
bowed low.

 Your highness, this changes everything, the cardinal said to Gavril.

 No! the prince shouted. No!

 Your highness, if this man can help keep the lady alive, then surely we must permit him to do so.

 I do not trust him.

 Does it matter, if he can help?

 While Gavril stared openmouthed at his former tutor, Dain stepped close to Sulein and glared at him.

 You play a dangerous game, Sulein, he said very softly, for their ears alone.

 The physicians eyes were glowing. I will never fathom the hidden secrets of these priests power 
unless I partake of it, he murmured back. 
Angrily Dain gripped his arm. Do not put her life at risk 
I wont. Sulein put his hand atop Dains, and the Ring of Solder that he wore on his 
fingerconcealed by a small spell of invisibilityflickered momentarily into sight before vanishing again.

 The sight of it, as always, had the power to distract Dain, to tempt him, to tantalize and exasperate 
him. He realized Sulein had let him glimpse it now to silence his protests. And although he fell silent, Dain 
burned inside with resentment. Hed tried every persuasion he could think of to get the Ring from Sulein, 
for by right it belonged to him, as it had been his fathers before him. Without the Ring he believed he had 
little chance of finding . But Sulein kept it as a guarantee that Dain would someday grant him a high 
position in Nethers future court, as well as give him part of that kingdoms treasury.

 You must trust me, sire, Sulein said softly. I know exactly what I am doing.

 Noncire came over to them. His highness has agreed. On his behalf do I thank you, Master Sulein, 
for your willingness to serve.

 Sulein glided away in the cardinals wake. While Pheresas encasement was unloaded from the wagon 
and carried a short distance off the road, wattle panels were unloaded from another wagon and hastily 
assembled around her tent for privacy. The guardians were led by their attendant monks into the small 


enclosure, with Sulein following. Soon Dain heard them all chanting in unison.

enclosure, with Sulein following. Soon Dain heard them all chanting in unison.

 Church soldiers dispersed the gawkers and issued orders for camp to be made. Soon the whole 
company was abustle with chores and tasks. The fallen guardian was buried, and laments for the dead 
rose across the camp in eerie counterpoint to the chanting on Pheresas behalf.

 Sir Polquin directed Dains servants to put up his tent, and soon they had their own small enclave in 
place, with a fire crackling and kettles of water aboil.

 Restless and unable to occupy himself, Dain started to walk over to Pheresas enclosure to keep 
watch there, but he saw Gavril and his minions go by on the same errand.

 Frowning, Dain abandoned the intention. Some of Gavrils words had scorched themselves across his 
mind earlier that day, and he could not forget them. Pheresa was indeed Gavrils lady, not his. No matter 
how much he still loved her, he could not rightfully intrude.

 Instead he paced back and forth, and wisely Sir Polquin and Sir Terent left him alone.

 At twilight there came the sound of hoofbeats on the road, and a lone horseman was halted by the 
sentries.

 Watching, Dain saw the silhouette of a thin, upright figure and for a second thought it was Thum 
returning against orders. But he sensed none of Thums warm, kindhearted spirit. This was a stranger, no 
doubt a courier bringing fresh dispatches to Gavril.

 The sentries permitted the man to enter camp, and he rode through the tents slowly, his gaze scanning 
the faces around him.

 The lazy knaves, Sir Terent said, squinting. Youd think theyd escort him straight to the prince.

 These church soldiers were born in sloth and idleness, Sir Polquin said critically.

 Ever since that black day on the banks of the Charva River, when Nonkind had attacked Lord 
Odfreys forces while they were escorting Gavril home to Savroix, Sir Polquins contempt for the church 
soldiers cowardice had grown rather than abated. These knights were not the same men, but all were 
judged by Thirst men under the shadow cast by the infamy of the soldiers whod chosen to surround 
Gavril, staying out of danger, while the Thirst knights fought to their deaths.

 Dain lost interest in the newcomer and started for his tent to collect one of the scrolls hed been 
studying on this journey. Hed set himself to learn Netheran, and tried to work on his lessons daily. 
Just then, however, the courier rode up to their fire and drew rein. Faldain of Nether? he asked in a 

heavily accented voice.

 Jumping up, Sir Terent set his hand on his sword hilt, even as Dain turned around in astonishment.

 We are all Mandrians here, the knight protector said in a growl, but the courier was looking at Dain.

 With an audible gasp, he dismounted and took two steps before Sir Terent blocked his path. The 
courier dropped to his knees in the mud and bowed low.

 Your majesty, he said. Da venetne skekse? Skekse van yt 

Thod!

 Dain stared at him in curiosity. The courier had the look of a man whod ridden long and hard. He was 
young, hardly older than Dain himself, with prominent cheekbones and slightly tilted eyes that told of 
some eld blood. His hair, which was black and straight, was divided into innumerable plaits knotted with 
carved wooden beads at their ends. Swinging with every movement of his head, these beads clacked 
softly together. Both of his ears were pierced and sported multiple small gold rings that glinted in the 
firelight. His skin had a tawny cast to it, his beard was sparse and very black, and his eyes were dark 
brown. They shone at Dain with a degree of reverence and awe that made him uncomfortable, for he felt 
he had done nothing as yet to deserve either.

 Rise, Dain said. Come near the fire and get warm.

 The courier obeyed with visible gratitude, and looked around curiously at Dains modest trappings. 
Dain wondered if hed expected to see someone attired in fine velvets and furs, wearing more jewels than 
a single ruby ring, and waited on hand and foot by liveried servants. Still, he sensed no criticism in the 
young man, and no doubt.

 Although pale with exhaustion, the courier refused offers of food and drink. My duty, sire, is to give 


you these letters.

you these letters.

 Dain accepted them with mixed feelings. No one at Savroix, save King Verence, was supposed to 
know that he was a member of Gavrils expedition north. Officially Dain remained an invalid at Savroix, 
gravely ill from a wound and allowed no visitors. The ploy, thin indeed for a place as riddled with spies 
and gossip-mongers as Savroix, had not been expected to hold long, but Dain had hoped he would at 
least be able to cross the border into Nether before his true whereabouts were discovered.

 Did Prince Spirin send these missives to me? he asked.

 The courier blinked. Nay, your majesty. I have ridden from Lubeck. As soon as word reached us 
that you were found, my fatherthat is, the rebel leaders met and drew up these pledges of support. I 
was dispatched to Savroix, but when I arrived there you had gone.

 Behind him, Sir Terent swore softly.

 The courier cast him a nervous look before returning his gaze to Dain. From there, I was sent along 
this road, so back have I ridden.

 Who at Savroix directed you? Dain asked. Spirin?

 The courier flushed and hesitated, but at last he gave Dain a nod that made his braid beads clack 
together. We spoke in private, I assure your majesty.

 Oh, yes, Dain thought with exasperation. And how did Spirin himself know that Dain was gone? 
Before his departure, Dain had had a long talk with the elderly exile, but he hadnt taken the man 
completely into his confidence. He knew not yet who among the Netherans he could trust. Spies and 
paid informants were everywhere, and the Mandrian courtiers and their servants were readily bought. 
Besides, who might have overheard Spirins conversation with this courier? And, more important, who, if 
anyone, had followed the courier here to this camp?

 Dain remembered his earlier feeling of being watched this afternoon, and a cold chill went up his spine. 
He hoped the courier had not brought him additional trouble. What is your name? he asked.

 The courier pulled himself to attention. Chesil Matkevskiet, your majesty.

 Dain nodded absently, and beckoned to his servants. Give him food and see to his horse.

 Bowing, they hurried to comply. Dain, with Sir Terent at his heels, ducked into his tent. The small 
lamps inside it had been lit, and they cast a ruddy glow over the narrow cot where Dains 
hauberkfreshly cleaned and oilednow lay spread out, its links reflecting the light softly.

 He sat down on a stool while Sir Terent stood guard at the tent flap, and one by one broke the 
red-wax seals on his letters. He hoped they were not written in Netheran, for his studies had not yet 
made him proficient in that language.

 The first letter was not, much to his relief. Instead, he saw the angular lines of runes. Dain could read 
these fluently, but he doubted if many others in Mandria could. As a code, it served excellently.

 Once hed gotten past all the florid and excessive salutations, Dain saw that the letter came from 
Prince Ingor Matkevskiet, leader of the Agya forces in southwest Nether. Matkevskiet pledged his army 
to Dains service, all four thousand Agya warriors, legendary even in other lands. Dain had heard many 
tales of respect among the dwarves for the Agya warriors bravery and fighting prowess. It was said, 
however, that they did not always serve the kings of Nether. Even some of King Tobeszijians battles 
were reputedly fought without the Agyas. King Muncel had never commanded them.

 But now, with the stroke of a few words on this simple piece of parchment, they were offered to 
Dain... all four thousand of them.

 It was said that one Agya warrior was worth three men.

 A leap of excitement made Dain grin. He laid the letter on his knee and smoothed it with his hand. This 
was a tremendous honor. The Agyas had not even measured the muscle in his sword arm, as was their 
custom before swearing allegiance. Yet they were accepting him sight unseen, willing to follow him 
against Muncel. 


Go to Nether, Tobeszijians ghost had whispered to him, and the army will come to you.

 So it was true. Dain swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. 


 Opening the second letter, he found it also written in runes.

 Opening the second letter, he found it also written in runes.

 The third letter was much stained and creased, almost illegible and scratched out in a combination of 
rune and Netheran that told Dain the writer was hardly more literate than himself. He puzzled over the 
short sentences for a long while before he finally deciphered their meaning.

 Feeling stunned, he looked up and the letter dropped from his hand.

 Sire? Sir Terent asked in concern. Are you well?

 What? Dain blinked at him without really seeing him, then the tent came back into focus. He bent 
over and picked up the letter with shaking fingers. 
Bad news? Sir Terent asked. 
Nay. Dain read the note again, but its message was plain. Its a pledge from someone named 
Samderaudin. I know not the name, but I think he must be no lord. 
What does he offer?

 Dain lifted his gaze to meet Sir Terents. He offers a cache of weapons and armor that hes 
concealed in the mountains. I cannot make out everything he writes, but... have Chesil Matkevskiet come 
inside. I wish to talk to him in private.

 Aye, sire.

 Sir Terent went outside, and Dain heard his voice calling the courier. Moments later, Chesil entered 
the tent.

 He bowed low to Dain. Sire?

 Dain swallowed a couple of times to be sure of his voice. Do you know a man called Samderaudin?

 Chesils dark eyes widened, and he flung back his head. Aychi! he exclaimed, and made a quick 
gesture with his hands that Dain did not understand. This name I have heard, sire.

 All too conscious of Sir Terents listening ears, Dain leaned forward on the stool and said in his 
awkward, far-from-fluent Netheran, And is he a sorcerel? Does he command such creatures?

 Chesil looked distinctly uneasy. He stared at the letter in Dains hand, hesitating, before he nodded 
with a clack of his beads. Aye, he replied in Netheran, speaking slowly for Dains benefit. He trains 
them, and is considered a very powerful sor-cerel himself. He went to the wars when Runtha fought.

 Runtha, Dain said slowly. My grandfather.

 And great-grandfather, Chesil said. Two Runthas were there. Both powerful kings.

 Dain stared. Samderaudin served both?

 Aye. Long-lived, are these sorcerels. Unless they are hit too often with the death-fire. Then they die 
young. That Samderaudin himself has written to you is a great honor indeed, your majesty.

 Yes. Dain swallowed. His dwarf upbringing had taught him to fear and avoid sorcerels at all costs. 
Capable of commanding great, magical power, the sorcerels supposedly could open the gates between 
the worlds. It was whispered that there once had been a sorcerelle, a female whose name no one dared 
speak, who had even opened the gates to the gods themselves, and had then perished because she could 
not withstand the sight of their greatness.

 Dain frowned. It is the custom, Ive heard, for Netheran kings to use sorcerels in battle.

 Always, Chesil said without hesitation. Especially when Nonkind are the foes.

 Have you ridden in such battles?

 No. But my father has, many times.

 Dain eyed him with curiosity. And you do not fear their powers?

 Chesil blinked at him. I would fear, your majesty, to go to war without them. I would fear to face any 
Nonkind without their spells of protection.

 Dain frowned, thinking of his own encounters with Nonkind demons. Both times hed fought with the 
aid of a magic-endowed sword, Truthseeker first and later Tanengard. He wondered what it must be like 
to face the Nonkind armed with magicked sword and magicked armor as well.

 Prince Volvn, Chesil said, fought last summer without sorcerels and died. He and all five hundred 
of his men. It was a great loss, for he was the most favored of your fathers generals. We Agya admired 
him much. Since then, the rebel forces of Nether have almost given up. Even we Agya were packing our 


tents to exile ourselves in the uncharted lands. But when word came that your majesty was found, my 
father saw new hope. We will fight to the death and beyond for you.

tents to exile ourselves in the uncharted lands. But when word came that your majesty was found, my 
father saw new hope. We will fight to the death and beyond for you.

 When he stood up again, he asked, Have you a message for my father?

 Yes, Dain said. But first, I want to ask another question about Samderaudin. He writes of weapons 
and armor. I

 Does he offer such? Chesil exclaimed.

 Aye, he does. 

Aychi! This is a gift indeed, Chesil said in excitement. Magicked armor and

 Swords? Dain asked, his own excitement kindling. Magicked swords?

 Chesil nodded.

 Dain rose to his feet with a grin. Wait outside while I write my responses.

 With a bow, Chesil hurried out. Sir Terent came forward, curiosity written all over his ruddy face.

 Aught I can do, sire?

 I must write something, Dain said, searching through his clothes chest for the small box that held his 
lesson scrolls, a few scraps of parchment, and his inks. He couldnt help but think of Gavril, who traveled 
with his exquisite writing desk, an ingenious contraption that looked like an ordinary box made of 
beautiful woods and inlays. Inside, however, it was a series of clever hinges, drawers, and compartments 
that held his glass pens and his finely embellished writing papers.

 Dain tore off a piece from where hed been practicing his letters and began scratching out a reply to 
Prince Matkevskiet in runes, thanking him for the generous pledge of men. He wrote similar notes to 
Count Romsalkin and Samderaudin.

 As he sanded the letters to dry the ink, disbelief tingled through him.

 He now had an army to command. Unable to hold his news any longer, he glanced up at Sir Terent, 
gripped his arm, and whispered, We must keep this secret for a while, but over four thousand men are 
pledged to me!

 Sir Terent blinked at him, and slow comprehension dawned in his green eyes. Great Thod! he said in 
astonishment. That foreign boy has brought you this news?

 Aye, Dain said. But voice it not. Secrecy gives me some advantage over King Muncel.

 Of course. Ill say nothing, Sir Terent promised at once. Then he shot Dain a sly grin. But may I tell 
Sir Polquin? He frets something awful about how youre to cope without men.

 Let him fret a while longer, Dain said with caution. I trust him with my life, but too many secrets 
have escaped us already. Let this bide until I am free to act on it.

 Better yer grace should act on it now, Sir Terent said bluntly. Leave the lady and her poor fate in 
the hands of those responsible for her, and get on to

 No! Dain shouted. He slammed his fist down so hard he snapped his pen in half. I have sworn that 
I shall see her cured. That comes first.

 But, sire

 The people of Nether have waited this many years for deliverance, Dain said harshly, refusing to 
yield. They can wait a few months more.

 Disappointment crossed Sir Terents face. He bowed and argued no more. As yer majesty judges 
best, he said, but in disapproval.

 Annoyed, Dain said no more. From the first day theyd set out on this quest to save Pheresa, Sir 
Terent and Sir Polquin had been against it. They didnt understand, Dain told himself as he sealed his 
letters. If theyd ever known what it was like to love a maid as fair as Pheresa, then obviously theyd 
forgotten. Besides, finding would not only save her but also help him regain his kingdom. Dain set his 
mouth and called Chesil back inside the tent.

 He handed over the letters and bade the Agya courier a swift journey. Will you wait until daybreak to 
ride?

 Nay, your majesty. There is a strong moon tonight. I do not fear the darkness. 


 Then Thodspeed, Dain said. My compliments to your father. Tell him I look forward to the day 
when he and I shall meet.

 Then Thodspeed, Dain said. My compliments to your father. Tell him I look forward to the day 
when he and I shall meet.

 Dain rose to his feet and secured the pledges in a safe place among his possessions.

 Yer majestys supper is ready, Sir Terent said. Give the word and Ill tell em to bring it in.

 Nay, Dain said. He felt distracted and restless. He picked up his cloak and wrapped its heavy folds 
around his shoulders. I want to walk a bit first.

 You want to go stand over the lady, Sir Terent grumbled. He pulled on his gloves and followed Dain 
outside into the frosty night air.  Tis not kingly to moon over her like

 Dain stopped short in his tracks and glared at his protector. Take care, sir, he said in a low, furious 
voice. I decide what is and is not kingly for me to do.

 Over by the campfire, Sir Polquin was standing with a trencher of food in his hands. He stared at them 
worriedly.

 Dain and Sir Terent, busy glaring at each other, ignored him.

 Although Sir Terents face reddened, he didnt back down. Aye, sire, he said at last. Seems Ive 
got a bit more to learn about serving a king, even if he aint got his kingdom yet.

 Stung by that, Dain frowned. Before he could speak, however, Sir Terent went on: Remember this, 
sire. Tis said that King Tobeszijian was a man who liked to do things his way, in his own good time. Tis 
said that he wouldnt pay enough mind to his duties, and thats how his brother took the throne away 
from him.

 The fire that kindled in Dains chest burned its way up into his face. He felt as though he were being 
strangled. Who who told you that? he asked hoarsely, his fists clenched at his sides.

 We common knights hear a lot, here and there.

 Did the Netherans at Savroix tell you that? Or is it just a Mandrian lie?

 Sir Terents eyes flashed at Dains deliberate insult, but he kept his temper. I couldnt say, sire.

 Dain glared at him a moment longer, then he turned on his heel and strode off into the darkness. Sir 
Terent followed, his big feet crunching on the frozen mud. As Dain picked his way through the camp 
toward Pheresas enclosure, his anger slowly dissipated. He knew, in his heart, that what Sir Terent had 
said was true.

 Yet how could he be expected to turn his back on Pheresas plight? She had drunk the poison meant 
for him. Did he not owe her something for that?

 He loved her, no matter what Sir Terent said. And stubbornly he kept walking toward her tent.

 The morning dawned bright and fair, with no hint of the previous days rain. Sunlight sparkled on frosty 
leaves and grass. Dain, Sir Terent, and Sir Polquin left the road and cut first across marshland, then fields 
harvested and gleaned, to take the shortest route to Thirst Hold.

 Behind them, Gavrils expedition was still camped on the roadside. Like a band of nomads, Dain 
thought scornfully. Despite Suleins being successfully substituted for the dead guardian, the royal 
physicians said that Lady Pheresa should not be moved as yet. Not even to nearby Thirst. In the 
meantime, Dain seized the opportunity to visit his hold. Much business awaited him there, and it was long 
past time that he attended to it.

 Having galloped across an empty field, Dain reined up inside a small wood to give the horses a 
breather. Woodcutters had been at work in this grove, leaving stumps in their wake. Thirst land, Dain 
thought, inhaling the mingled scents of woods and autumn with pleasure. It felt good to come back, and 
Sir Terent and Sir Polquin were grinning like boys.

 Soleil tossed his proud head, flinging his golden mane and pulling on the reins. Steady, Dain crooned 
to him, laughing at the chestnut stallions fiery spirit You cant race the wind all day.

 Sir Terent pointed northeast Just over the next rise past these trees, and well

 An arrow sang past Dains face, so close the fletchings brushed his skin, and thudded into Sir Terents 
shoulder. The protector reeled in his saddle with a hoarse cry of pain.

 Sir Polquin drew his sword. Get out of this! Ride, sire. Ride! Ill hold them.

 More arrows came raining down on them, but Dain knew they had to stick together if they were to 


survive. Rearing Soleil to make himself less of a target, he shouted, Sir Terent, can you ride?

survive. Rearing Soleil to make himself less of a target, he shouted, Sir Terent, can you ride?

 Sir Polquin wheeled his horse toward Dain.

 Ride, Terent! Dain commanded. Leaning forward, he pulled his sagging protector upright. Ride to 
the field!

 An arrow sliced across the top of Dains hand, cutting his heavy glove and bringing pain like fire. 
Ignoring it, he kicked Soleil hard, but as the three of them retreated from the grove, another volley of 
arrows came at them. One hit Sir Polquins horse in the flank.

 Squealing in pain, the animal shied violently, and Sir Polquin came off. He thudded hard against the 
ground and lay there un-moving.

 Cursing in alarm, Dain drew up and wheeled his horse around to go racing back for him. By then Sir 
Polquin was sitting up, trying to wave him away.

 See to yourself, sire! he shouted gruffly. Ill do.

 No, you will not, Dain replied grimly.

 The sporadic hail of arrows stopped, and just as Dain noticed this, a half-dozen riders emerged from 
the trees to surround them. Several of these men wore red mail. Helmeted with their visors closed, they 
wore no surcoats to identify themselves.

 Bandits, damne! Sir Polquin said, scrambling to his feet. Get away! Ill hold them as long as I can.

 Dain flung back his cloak to free his arms and drew his sword. Its too late for that, he said grimly.

 Beside him, Sir Terent snapped off the arrow still sticking out of his shoulder, swore with shrill 
vehemence, and drew his sword. For Thirst and Dain, he said, pasty-faced and sweating.

 Aye, for Thirst and Dain! Sir Polquin echoed grimly.

 Dain swallowed hard. For Thirst!

 At that moment their attackers charged, yelling in a language Dain did not understand. From that point 
forward, there was no chance to think, but only to fight.

 In seconds, Dain found himself flanked by two foes. Desperately wheeling his horse around to get out 
from between them, Dain swung his sword at the closest man. His blow was parried with a resounding 
clang of steel. For a split second he stared deep into foreign eyes glittering behind the slits in the mans 
visor.

 Right then, Dain felt the force of his opponents thoughts: Catch/catch/catch.

 Twisting his wrists, Dain broke free, reversed his swing, and struck again. His sword tip raked across 
the mans midsection, slicing through links of chain mail and spilling a gush of blood. But as that attacker 
tumbled from his horse, a blow across the back of Dains shoulders came from his second opponent. He 
wheezed for air, the world nearly going black on him, and fought to keep gripping his sword.

 Strong hands grabbed him, yanking him upright in the saddle. Through blurred eyes, Dain looked 
around for Sir Terent, assuming his protector was steadying him.

 Instead, he found himself staring at another helmet, painted blood red with strange symbols on the 
sides. This man laughed, the sound echoing low from inside his helmet, and gave Dains arm a powerful 
yank that nearly pulled him from the saddle.

 Twisting desperately, Dain brought his sword up and around, but it was impossible to land a blow at 
this angle. He turned Soleil and swung again, but just then a third foe came galloping up and gave him a 
shove.

 Dain went tumbling out of his saddle. He hit the ground swearing, and rolled as hed been taught, 
coining up on his feet immediately. With a yell, he ran straight at the closest attacker, whose horse reared 
with deadly forefeet

 Ducking those dangerous hooves, Dain cut the horses saddle girth. Horse blood splattered across his 
arms. The animal screamed, and the saddlealong with riderwent flying off. Dain gave the man no 
time to gain his feet Rushing at him hard, Dain kicked him as he tried to rise, and swung with all his might 
His sword took off the mans head, and it went rolling beneath the feet of another horse, which bucked 
and kicked in alarm. 


 Sir Polquin plunged his dagger into the guts of an opponent then came running to Dains side. Standing 
shoulder to shoulder, they fought two more, while Sir Terentstill mounted exchanged blows with the 
last man. The woods rang with the clash of combat.

 Sir Polquin plunged his dagger into the guts of an opponent then came running to Dains side. Standing 
shoulder to shoulder, they fought two more, while Sir Terentstill mounted exchanged blows with the 
last man. The woods rang with the clash of combat.

 Screaming, the man fell, and Dain finished him with a swift thrust.

 Panting, blood dripping from his blade, Dain turned around in time to see Sir Polquin finish his man 
with a triumphant yell. Sir Terents opponent screamed foreign curses at them and abruptly galloped 
away.

 Silence fell over the small, trampled clearing, a silence broken only by the snorting horses and the 
harsh panting of Dain and his friends.

 Gulping in air, Dain shoved back his mail coif to let the cold air bathe his sweat-soaked hair. Aside 
from the shallow arrow cut across the back of his hand, hed taken no harm. The others were less 
fortunate. Sir Terents surcoat was stained with blood from his wound. The side of Sir Polquins face 
was scraped raw; hed have a tremendous bruise there by eventide.

 Sir Polquin gave one of the corpses a kick. Ill have Bosque-cels hide for this, he muttered. 
Whats he thinking of, letting road bandits run free on Thirst land?

 They werent bandits, Dain said. Bending over one of the dead men, he tugged off his helmet.

 Careful, sire! Sir Terent gasped out.

 But Dain was busy studying the hatchet-thin features and distinctive bone structure. He even peeled up 
the mans lip to reveal a small set of pointed fangs.

 Morde a day! Sir Polquin exclaimed, coming over to take a look. What in Thods name is he?

 Gantese, Dain said grimly. The red mail was an indication that they might be so.

 Visibly alarmed, Sir Polquin took a quick step back from the corpse. How long before these devils 
come alive again and start at us anew?

 Nay, Dain said in reassurance. Theyre Believers, not

 Nonkind.

 Is there a difference?

 Yes. Dain frowned in the direction the lone survivor had fled, and wondered if he would return with 
more men. At least now I understand why Ive felt watched the last few days.

 Watched, eh? And why didnt your grace speak of this? Sir Polquin complained.

 There was nothing to say. I had no certainty. Would you have me share every uneasiness I feel?

 You? Aye, I would, Sir Polquin said pointedly. Your senses are our best warnings of Nonkind 
attack.

 This was not Nonkind business. Dain sighed. They intended to capture me alive, I think.

 Aye, Sir Terent said unsteadily.  Twas plain. No one could shoot that many arrows at you and 
miss.

 Didnt miss you, did they? Sir Polquin retorted.

 Sir Terent looked terrible, and fresh blood was still seeping into his surcoat, but he mustered a glare 
for his fellow knight. That first arrow was intended to put me out of the action. The next arrow brought 
you down. If youd stayed on your horse, his grace would have escaped this ambush.

 Instead of arguing, Sir Polquin grew thoughtful. The fire died in his eyes, and a strange look appeared 
on his face. Our lad should have been dead in the first minute the way they surrounded him.

 Aye, Dain agreed. Thats why I think they meant to take me alive.

 Sir Polquin scowled. Damned, pagan devils. What did they want with you? What?

 I suspect they were paid agents of my uncles. Which means he knows I have left Savroix.

 Aye, and where youve gone to, Sir Terent said. Once they learned the first, the second wasnt 
hard to guess. 


 Sir Polquin swore. And us so careful about smuggling you out of the palace and keeping you out of 
sight on that barge. I knew those Savroix court daisies would never keep the secret.

 Sir Polquin swore. And us so careful about smuggling you out of the palace and keeping you out of 
sight on that barge. I knew those Savroix court daisies would never keep the secret.

 Best we get you to Thirst at once, Sir Polquin said worriedly. Where theres one Gantese agent, its 
said there are always more. They wont give up capturing you this easily.

 Dain nodded in agreement. It was beginning, he thought. This attack of his uncles would be only the 
first. From now on, he would have to take stronger precautions.

 Riding slowly for Sir Terents sake, they reached Thirst Hold a good hour later than Dain had 
intended. Although the knight did not complain, he rode with gritted teeth and a set face. Dain permitted 
Sir Polquin to ride pillion behind him, for Sir Polquins injured horse had fled into the forest and could not 
be found.

 Although they expected a second attack, none came. The sight of the hold, standing square and dark 
against the sunlight, brought grins of relief to all their faces. Dain could feel his tense muscles relaxing.

 Sir Polquin grunted at his shoulder. Put me off, sire.

 Nay, Dain protested. I am not ashamed to let you ride.

 Put me off. fis unseemly for a king to share his mount with a master-at-arms. Not in front of the 
men.

 But

 Ill serve better by leading Sir Terents horse.

 Hah! the protector said at once, but his voice was weak. Lead me like a babe on a training rein, 
will you?

 Aye, I will. Sir Polquin slid off Soleils hindquarters, and dodged the stallions ill-tempered kick. Go 
ahead, sire. Let em see you plainly.

 As they all drew near the hold gates, Dain squeezed Soleil with his legs and coaxed the horse into 
prancing sideways so that his mane and long tail streamed in the wind. Ho! he shouted. Thirst Hold!

 A sentrys head appeared atop the ramparts. Dain lifted his arm. Ho!

 More heads appeared. Its Lord Dain! someone shouted. Hes here at last!

 A commotion of voices broke out, and with an ear-splitting squeal the ancient winch turned 
ponderously to open gates and portcullis. Dain had instructed Thum to answer the mens questions about 
his royal statusif questions they hadwith honesty, but not to proclaim it at large. He would have 
preferred to come here simply as their chevard. For Thirst folk to accept an eld as their new lord and 
master was surely challenge enough. He realized he should have arrived with an entourage of guards 
sworn to his service, aye, with pages, servants, dogs, and minstrels. Who would ever take him for a lord, 
or even a king, if he did not act the part? His plain ways had to end; that, he knew.

 Youd think, Sir Terent grumbled, squinting up at the crenellations, that theyd have had these gates 
open ere now. Whats the hour? And them not ready, for all Thums warning a day ahead.

 Theyve seen trouble here, Sir Polquin said. Like as not, theyre expecting more. He craned his 
neck to do an inspection of his own. That crack above the left arrow slit has widened. Ought to be fixed 
properly this time, and before winter ice widens it more.

 From inside the hold, the chapel bell began to peal joyously, even as the groan of the winch stopped 
with the gates barely shifted.

 Damne, whats amiss with these louts? Sir Terent muttered. Bosquecel! he roared out. What in 
Thods name are you doing up there?

 The captain of the guard appeared atop the gate and peered down at them. Even from that angle, he 
looked ruffled.

 I beg pardon, your grace, he said to Dain, ignoring Sir Terent completely. How far behind you 
comes the rest of the company?

 They do not come today, Dain replied.

 Do not come? Sir Bosquecel repeated in astonishment. But

 Your chevard is here, Sir Polquin broke in gruffly. Thats honor enough. Stop yammering and open 


the blighted gate. We have a wounded man in need of attention.

the blighted gate. We have a wounded man in need of attention.

 Dain rode through it, ducking his head as he passed beneath the massive timbers supporting the weight 
of the wall and ramparts overhead. Sir Terent and Sir Polquin followed him, grumbling between 
themselves at Sir Bosquecels unusual laxity.

 Meanwhile, from across the fields came serfs and villagers at a run, answering the summons of the bell. 
Dain rode into the stableyard, to the ragged cheers and shouted greetings of his servants. Yet not all 
looked happy to see him. Many gawked and pointed. Some of the maidservants held up their aprons to 
shield their faces from his gaze.

 Dain sighed to himself. Three months gone, and already hed become a stranger to them again.

 Although the Thirst folk gawked at him with more curiosity than love, Dain held his head high, 
reminding himself that this mixed reception was what hed expected. While hed lived here hed won the 
affection of many, the tolerance of some, and the avoidance of others. Hed come to them first as a 
ragged waif, as ill-mannered as he was hungry. Through Lord Odfreys kindness and the generous 
acceptance of the knights, who proclaimed him their mascot, hed been put through a fosters train-ing. 
Later Lord Odfrey had adopted him as his heir. The inheritance was secure, guaranteed by King 
Verence himself, and if these people feared to serve an eld they would have to soon grow used to it.

 As he rode through the rambling complex of the hold, his keen eyes noted with approval the stacks of 
fodder and other signs of a bountiful harvest. During his time away hed received regular reports from Sir 
Bosquecel and less frequent ones from Julth Rondel, the steward. From their accounts, the hold was 
running smoothly, but now as he looked about, Dain saw signs of neglect and slackness. Here at 
mid-morning, the stableyard was not yet swept. One of the doors to the barn was broken and splintered 
as though a horse had kicked through it. What appeared to be a new barracks was half-constructed, and 
boards and timbers lay scattered about in disarray.

 Sir Bosquecel, down from the ramparts, came hurrying up to Dain in the stableyard and bowed hastily. 
Welcome home, your grace, he said, looking nervous and flustered. We are not as prepared as we 
ought to be to give you a good and proper welcome. I mean, a proper welcome for aa king.

 As he stammered and turned red, Dain realized what the problem was. It was not that he was eld, but 
rather than his rank had grown too high. A tremendous gulf yawned between him and these plain folk, a 
gulf that could not be crossed.

 Sir Bosquecel cleared his throat. The men have been sore bedeviled this month, holding off raids from 
across the river.

 He paused, frowning up at the three of them, and his gaze widened at the sight of bloodstained Sir 
Terent. Morde! Whats gone amiss here? Id have sworn no raiders were afoot this day, else wed have 
been patrolling the road. Did dwarves attack you?

 Nay, Dain said grimly. Ill explain later. Have Sir Ter-ents wound seen to, if you please.

 As Sir Bosquecel issued orders and servants came forward to gently assist Sir Terent from his horse, 
Dain glanced around with a deepening frown and wondered where the knights themselves were. Hed 
expected them to issue forth from the guardhouse as he rode across the keep, but thered been no sight 
of them. Had they grown so sullen, then? Did they resent his good fortune? Had they turned against him, 
when once they were mostly his champions?

 And the men? he asked. Are they on patrol now? Sir Bosquecel glanced up and turned redder 
than ever. Uh, no, your grace. Theyre here. Gently, man! he snapped at one of the servants assisting 
Sir Terent.

 Dain held back more questions. The mens failure to greet him hurt deeply.

 Dismounting, Dain handed his reins to a sullen-faced sta-bleboy who used to pelt him with dried 
manure. In the past, Dain would have left the boy alone, feeling it best to avoid confrontation. But his time 
spent with King Verence had taught him how to deal with men, both common and high.

 He paused a moment, gazing at this former tormentor until the stableboy turned bright red and would 
not meet his eyes. How fare you these days, Zeld? he asked. Well enough, sir, the boy mumbled. 


Say your grace, Sir Polquin barked at him. Stand up straight when you do it. And dont mumble.

Say your grace, Sir Polquin barked at him. Stand up straight when you do it. And dont mumble.

 As I recall, you never had much use for me, but youve a good hand with horses, Dain said to him. 
I would ask you now to treat my horse kindly. He was a gift from King Verence, you see, and I value 
him highly.

 Zelds mouth fell open. A gift from the king? Our king? Damne, not true!

 Aye, true, Sir Polquin told him sternly. And dont you insult your master by disbelieving him. Oaf 
that you are, surely you can see theres no horse in Thirst as fine as this. Saelutian bloodlines, bred in the 
royal stables. See that you take care with the steed, as his grace bids you.

 Zeld clutched the reins. His eyes were shining now, and they flashed up to meet Dains with none of 
their former resentment. And does he run like the wind? I hear tell

 Hes a fine courser, Dain said. Keep him in good trim.

 Aye, sir ... mlord ... uh, yer grace. Aye! That Ill do! With a smile, Dain moved on, aware that 
Zelds loyalty was now fiercely his. He heard murmurs among the others, but he ignored them as Sir 
Polquin and Sir Bosquecel broke apart from a brief, private conversation to flank him on either side.

 When he neared the innermost courtyard, he heard a gruff command beyond the wall. As Dain strode 
through the gate he saw all the knights of Thirst standing rowed up in a double line  between him and 
the steps of the Hall. Shined and polished, their helmets casting blinding reflections in the sunlight, they 
stood shoulder to shoulder in their green surcoats, holding their freshly painted shields in front of them.

 Dain checked at the sight, and realized now why they hadnt met him at the guardhouse. All this time 
theyd been waiting quietly to surprise him. A lump filled his throat, and he wondered how he could have 
ever doubted them. Somehow, bursting with emotion, he managed to keep his stride steady.

 Sir Bosquecel stepped away to issue a low command, and the sergeant-at-arms bawled it to the men: 
Arms to Thirst!

 In response, they shouted the Thirst war cry and drew their broadswords in unison.

 High salute! the sergeant bellowed. Down the line, the broadswords swung aloft, and were held 
point-to-point in a shining arch of steel.

 Walking proud and tall, honored beyond words, Dain went down the row beneath their swords, 
keeping his shoulders erect and his chin high.

 He reached the foot of the stone steps, emerged from beneath the steel arch, and started to ascend. 
As he did so, another command roared forth, and the swords came down in a flashing arc and thudded 
against the knights shields.

 Dain turned to face them and drew his own bloodstained sword in brief salute, holding it up until they 
sheathed their weapons. Only then did he slide his back into its scabbard. He stared at them a moment, 
reacquainting himself with their honest, rough-hewn faces. He seemed to have lived through two lifetimes 
since last hed seen them. But yes, there was Sir Alard and old, sour-faced Sir Blait. He saw Sir Bowin 
and Sir De-loit, his single eye shining bright with joy. Dain caught himself looking for faces he knew he 
would never see again. So many he remembered were missing, and in their place stood new men, recruits 
he did not know, to replace those who had died that black day on the banks of the Charva. Would they 
serve him with the same loyalty as the others? Dain wondered.

 Todays honor gave him hope that the answer would be yes. He saw no hostility in their faces, no 
prejudice, no sullenness. They looked thrilled with how theyd surprised him. 
Welcome, your grace. Welcome! 
It was Julth Rondel, steward of Thirst, who came hastening down the steps to meet Dain. Thum, 

grinning beneath his thatch of red hair, followed on the stewards heels.

 Well met, sire, he said with a bow.

 I see you got here in one piece this time, Dain replied.

 Aye. Thums grin sobered. But I hear you met with trouble this morn. How many were there in the 
attack?

 A handful plus one, Dain replied. Whos seeing to Sir Terent? 


 Hes been taken to the infirmary. And yourself? No harm to you?

 Hes been taken to the infirmary. And yourself? No harm to you?

 Spreading wide his pudgy hands, Rondel bowed low. He was a short, plump man with a ring of 
straight blond hair encircling his bald pate. Garbed in Thirst green, he wore his stewards collar of silver 
with pride, and had served ably in his post for many years.

 Come inside, Lord Dainer, your graceand welcome to you! he said warmly, although his gaze 
seemed shy and unsettled behind the good cheer. Theres a fire built on the hearth to warm your bones, 
and some spiced cider waiting in your cup.

 That is a fine welcome indeed, Steward Rondel, Dain said, and gripped the mans shoulder briefly as 
he walked inside.

 Barking broke out, and Lord Odfreys dogs came bounding to meet him. But at the first sniff, they 
dropped their fine heads and slunk away in poignant disappointment.

 They still wait for his return, every day, Rondel said sadly, and made the sign of the Circle. Such a 
terrible pity.

 Aye, Dain agreed. His heart turned momentarily to lead inside his chest, and he was grateful when 
Rondel said nothing more about Lord Odfrey.

 The Hall smelled musty from disuse, but a good fire burned on the hearth. As he stood by it to warm 
himself, Dain stripped off his gloves, then flexed his cut hand gingerly while Thum hastened to take his 
cloak and mail coif. A servant brought Dain a cup of spiced cider.

 Accustomed by now to some of the finest Mandrian wines, Dain nearly gasped at the astringent taste. 
Hed forgotten how fresh-pressed cider could pucker the mouth.

 Not our best harvest this year, Im afraid, Rondel said, watching him anxiously. So I have ordered 
Lord Odfreys private supply brought out especially for your graces use.

 Dain concealed his expression by taking another sip. This time the cider went down more easily, 
although he disliked the heavy spices that had been used to mask the fact that this was last years press, 
and gone vinegary to boot.

 Very well, he said. That is all for now, steward. Ill be inspecting the hold this afternoon. But first I 
want breakfast. I rose at first light to come here, while the opportunity presented itself, and having fought 
off a pack of Gantese assassins, Im fair famished.

 The steward seemed relieved by this simple request. Yes, your grace. At once, your grace. He 
hesitated. And then will youryour grace wish to 
As soon as Ive eaten, Dain said, guessing what he was referring to, I will be going to the chapel to 
pay my respects to Lord Odfrey. 
Ah. The sadness returned to Rondels plump face. Yes, of course. Very proper, your grace. The 
steward bowed and hastened out. 
Dain flung the rest of his cider on the fire, which smoked in retaliation before regaining its flames with 
an angry pop of sparks. Gods! Dain exclaimed. I thought he would babble all morning. 
Hes capable of it, Thum said grimly. I have endured his chatter since my arrival yesterday. Morde 

a day, but were we ever this green and ill-mannered when we first went to Savroix?

 Since Ive arrived yesterday theyve been stumbling about in panic, wondering what to do with you.

 How so?

 Well, the floor rushes were too dirty for a king to see, too common, but the carpets that were in 
storage have been ravished by moths. Thats why your floors are bare. And your chamber... damne, but 
there arent linens in the hold fine enough for a king to sleep on. Half the servants refuse to believe youre 
a king. The other half are scared youll cut off their heads if they do or say the wrong thing.

 Hearing this, Dain didnt know whether to laugh or frown. What gave them such notions? Do they 
fear Verence this much?

 Thod knows, Thum said, throwing up his hands. The house servants would probably fall in dead 
swoons if they heard his majesty was coming here. Normally, of course, their chevard would keep them 
in order, but thats been knocked awry.

 Of course it has. Dain looked helplessly at his friend. I do not want them to fear me. 


 No help for it. At least your chamber is ready. If you want a change of clothing while I brush your 
surcoat clean of mud, there are Lord Odfreys tunics. Everything you left behind is probably too small.

 No help for it. At least your chamber is ready. If you want a change of clothing while I brush your 
surcoat clean of mud, there are Lord Odfreys tunics. Everything you left behind is probably too small.

 Thum nodded in understanding. The wardroom has been left locked and untouched sincesince we 
all set out for Savroix a few months ago.

 Good. I have the key.

 But first, pray tell me what really befell you this morning, Thum said in concern, fingering a tear in 
Dains cloak. Gantese assassins? In truth?

 Aye. They shot us with arrows before we knew what was afoot, then they came on.

 Six to three is heavy work, Thum said. Im sorry I was not there to fight at your side. It is Thods 
mercy you were not killed.

 Thod didnt save us. Twas their own orders.

 What?

 You heard aright, Dain said grimly. They were trying to take me alive, else short work would they 
have made of us. Tis no accident that the only arrow which actually met its mark struck my protector.

 Thums eyes narrowed, and spots of anger burned in his cheeks. Damne! What villains!

 I feel certain they were my uncles agents, Dain said.

 Then you must go no farther, Thum said in alarm. Your journey ends now, for theres no chance of 
you sneaking undetected across the border.

 Dain eyed him as though hed lost his wits. Not if I ride through a checkpoint on a main road, no, he 
said impatiently. Which I have no intention of doing.

 But Muncels onto your plan. He knows where to find you.

 Would you have me turn back at the first trouble?

 Nay, but a new plan must be

 I have more than four thousand men at my disposal if I can get to them, Dain said in excitement. A 
courier reached me at the camp last night, bringing pledges from two Netheran generals. Thum, I care not 
if Muncel knows Ive left Savroix. I intend to declare myself at once, so that more men can rally to my 
cause.

 But, sire

 The time for secrecy is over!

 How will you search for the eldin if

 I will do all, Dain said with a swift frown. If the eld-folk hear of my return, perhaps they will come 
forth from hiding. General Matkevskiet is bound to know where they may be found.

 Muncel will not stop with one tiny ambush.

 Agreed. Ill need more men to guard me, Dain said.

 Thum drew in a sharp breath. You mean Thirst knights.

 Dain said nothing. His gaze was answer enough.

 Thums eyes widened. Will you take them across the border?

 Do you think they will follow me there?

 II know not. Do you realize what that would meanT

 Dain nodded. The original charter of this hold was granted by the kings of Edonianthe old 
kingdom

 Its treason to say that name, Thum said with a nervous glance over his shoulder.

 Thirst pledges fealty to Mandrias kings, but it does not owe its existence to them, Dain said. I have 
studied the complex law of the ancient charters for some time. King Verence and I also discussed it.

 Do not expect me to believe he gives you his blessing!

 Dain frowned at Thum. He felt a little surprised by his friends protests. Not his blessing, no, he said 
slowly. But he will not oppose me.

 Dain

 Are you against this? Dain asked with more sharpness than he intended. Tell me true. Ill hold it not 
against you, but I must know if you remain with me. 


 Of course I remain with you, Thum said angrily. Never question my loyalty.

 Of course I remain with you, Thum said angrily. Never question my loyalty.

 Because if you pull Thirst away, the uplands could fall again into divisionism. Civil war could return to 
Mandria, at a time when she must remain strong. Thums mouth turned down worriedly. Gavril would 
love an excuse to batter the uplands into fresh submission.

 Gavril will not dare.

 But Thum still looked unconvinced. Dain frowned at the fire, and realized that in truth, neither of them 
knew what Gavril might choose to do, only that it would be cruel and merciless.

 Dain sighed. I must have men.

 And if you take Thirsts knights with you, who will guard the hold? Who will guard this area of the 

northeastern borders? There has been much trouble here. 
Aye, Dain said, knowing Thums points were valid. He shrugged. I have no solution to these many 
problems. Thum, where would the records of the household be kept? 
You mean the inventories? Thum asked, looking startled by the sudden change of subject. In the 
wardroom, no doubt. 
Dain tossed him the key. Find them. And then you can inform the steward there is to be a new 

inventory conducted.

 In the Hall?

 The Hall. The guardhouse. The barns. The entire hold.

 Everything. I want it all written down and checked against the previous entries.

 Thum looked daunted. That will take days.

 Perhaps we have them, while Lady Pheresa is unable to travel, Dain said. This hold has grown 
slack.

 Aye, Sir Polquin spoke up. That it has.

 Also, Dain said, I want Lander the smith brought to me for questioning about that sword he made.

 Thum frowned. Hes no longer at the hold.

 What? Gone for good?

 So I understand. Sir Bosquecel kicked him out.

 And good riddance, Sir Polquin said. Making magic rubbish like that sword Tanengard. He was 
naught but a foreign blasphemer.

 Dains brows drew together. Tanengard, whatever its flaws, saved a few of us from dying on the 
Charvas banks that day. Remember that before you judge its maker so harshly.

 Sir Polquin reddened at the rebuke and dropped his gaze.

 Er, is there anything else, sire? Thum asked to break up the uncomfortable silence.

 At that moment, something unseen, an intangible force or presence, engulfed Dain without warning. 
Failing to answer Thum, he turned away and walked over to the northeast wall. There he stood, staring 
into what seemed to be a mist, and could not speak or think. He felt an overwhelming sense of pressure, 
as though his entire body was being compressed or even crushed. It was an effort to breathe.

 Then in the next instant, he found himself seated on a stool and being shaken by a worried-looking Sir 
Polquin. Thum was holding a fresh cup of cider to his lips. 
Scowling, Dain twisted his head away from the liquid. Get that far from me! he said sharply. 
Sir Polquin released his grip on Dains shoulders. Thanks be to Thod! Hes come back to his 

senses.

 Dain blinked at the two of them in bewilderment. What are you saying? I havent left my senses. I

 You did, Thum said hoarsely, looking frightened. For several minutesjust nowyou stared as 
though you saw something we could not see. You would not answer us. You seemed not to hear us at 
all, though we did speak to you most urgently and called your name.

 Dain rubbed his eyes. I have no recollection of this.

 Were you seeing a vision? Thum asked him anxiously.

 Nay. I saw nothing. Are you sure?

 Sir Polquin gripped his arm to keep him from standing. Your grace had better stay seated for a bit. 


 Nay. Dain shook him off and rose to his feet. His knees felt wobbly, and he couldnt understand 
why. Im well. Dont fuss over me.

 Nay. Dain shook him off and rose to his feet. His knees felt wobbly, and he couldnt understand 
why. Im well. Dont fuss over me.

 Its already closing, Dain said impatiently. He felt unsettled and alarmed by what theyd told him. 
Theres no poison.

 Youre not yourself, just the same, Sir Polquin insisted. Pale as washed linen. Better sit a while and 
rest.

 Nay, theres too much to do. Ive got

 All will keep, Sir Polquin told him with gruff kindness. Bide quietly until you get your breakfast.

 There was no satisfying either of them until Dain sat down in a chair by the fire. He frowned at the 
flames while Sir Polquin and Thum conferred in soft voices they thought too low for his keen ears to 
overhear. Dain knew there was nothing wrong with him. But something had indeed reached out from a 
far distance and touched him.

 A cold shudder passed through his frame. He felt momentarily as though hed eaten something rotten 
that needed spewing up. There were more kinds of pursuit, he realized, than riders on horseback. If 
Muncel was casting spells his way, even at this great distance, the net was definitely closing in on him. 
Clearly Muncel would use any meansassassination by eld-poison, kidnapping, even employment of the 
dark artsto stop Dains return to Nether. His uncle was no ordinary enemy, and the struggle for 
Nethers throne would be no ordinary battle. 

He knows where I am, Dain thought with a fresh shudder. / have been touched by him, and now 
wherever I gohe can find me.

 In his castle stronghold at Belrad, King Muncel paced back and forth impatiently, glaring frequently at 
the huddle of three Gantese magemons kneeling on the floor in the center of his private council room. 
Impassive guards stood shoulder to shoulder across the closed doors. Muncels own lord protector, 
Prince Anjilihov, and his personal sorcerel, Tulvak Sahm, hovered close by, watching alertly for the least 
sign of trouble. Tulvak Sahm, insulted by the importation of the magemons, glittered with resentment. He 
was capable of thwarting the spell from sheer spite, but if he attempted it, King Muncel vowed to make 
him regret such folly.

 The air smelled of fire and ash and burned hair, scents of magic. A sort of crackling energy rose about 
the three magemons, strong enough to prickle against Muncels face. He stopped pacing and watched 
with hope, but at that moment the energy ebbed low again. Closing their eyes, the magemons bent lower 
so that their foreheads were almost touching. They hummed softly, uttering words that seemed to draw a 
cord tight around Muncels heart.

 He feared their dreadful powers; he was taking a terrible risk in bringing them here so openly, to his 
own stronghold. But if all went well this day, their dire task would be done and they could leave by 
eventide, paid and dismissed, never to return.

 Restless and impatient, Muncel resumed pacing.

 Outside the windows, the day looked bleak and gray. Huge white snowflakes fell rapidly, swirling 
against the glass in frozen patterns of lace. The snowfall was heavy enough to build large drifts across the 
keep and extended grounds. Muncel could hear a fierce wind howling and scratching outside.

 Over in one corner, a large stove of vivid red and blue tiles radiated heat. Beyar skin rugs covered the 
stone floor, and on one side of the room stood a massive council table surrounded by leather-covered 
chairs.

 There would be no council meeting today. Muncel had canceled all audiences and appointments to 
receive only this delegation from Sindeul, Gants capital city. He would speak to no one in his palace until 
this spell was completed and the threat from the pretender vanquished for good.

 Muncel was a gaunt-faced man with deep lines carved around his mouth and between his brows. His 
black hair and beard were streaked with gray. He was not as tall as his father, King Runtha II, had been, 
nor did he have the splendid physique of his half-brother Tobeszijian. Narrow-shouldered and thin, he 
seldom wore a sword and disliked the heavy weight of armor. Because he suffered from a dyspeptic 
stomach, his posture was slightly hunched and there was always a slight twist to his mouth that spoke of 


his discomfort. But his eyes were dark and fierce, and his temper legendary. Muncel possessed the subtle 
mind that Tobeszijian had lacked. As a result, he had held his throne far longer than had his half-brother 
simply because he could foresee potential problems and eliminate them. Shrewd and cunning, he never 
took risks unless he was prepared to deal with the consequences. And he was absolutely, utterly ruthless 
when he chose to be.

his discomfort. But his eyes were dark and fierce, and his temper legendary. Muncel possessed the subtle 
mind that Tobeszijian had lacked. As a result, he had held his throne far longer than had his half-brother 
simply because he could foresee potential problems and eliminate them. Shrewd and cunning, he never 
took risks unless he was prepared to deal with the consequences. And he was absolutely, utterly ruthless 
when he chose to be.

 The Believers, clad in fur cloaks and long tunics of heavy wool, themselves looked uneasy. Muncel 
began to entertain the unwelcome worry that he had exposed himself to censure and condemnation for 
nothing. And that made him even angrier, for he could not bear the thought of failure, much less ridicule. 
The churchmen would harass him endlessly about this; he might even be required to do public penance.

 Tulvak Sahm, always sensitive to his moods, glided over to him and bowed as though hed been 
summoned.

 This is taking too long, too long, Muncel muttered. Clearly the distance is too far.

 Distance slows the power of the spell, Tulvak Sahm murmured back, his deep voice so quiet it was 
almost a whisper in

 Muncels mind. But it does not dilute it. Since you have summoned these creatures, majesty, have 
patience with their antiquated methods. Wait.

 Muncels fists clenched. He had waited, damn the man. Hed waited nearly two decades to find this 
brat of Tobeszijians, and now he wanted the boy crushed.

 Eee-ah!

 That shrill outcry from one of the magemons startled even Tulvak Sahm and made Muncel spin 
around just as the magemons lifted their hands in unison. They started chanting hoarse, unintelligible 
words that made his skin crawl.

 The crackling energy intensified in the room. The guards had their hands on their sword hilts now while 
their eyes shifted uneasily. 
Muncel saw rainbow hues of power shimmer in the air above the magemons heads, and even Tulvak 
Sahm stood rooted in place, staring at them in wonder and dread as the others did. 
Although Muncel himself possessed no magical gifts or special powersfor which he thanked 

Tomiashe drew in an unsteady breath and willed success in the magemons direction. 

Find him, he commanded in his mind. Smother his lungs. Stop his heart. Crush his soul!

 Abruptly the spell ended. The kneeling magemons moved away from each other and rose to their 
feet. The rainbow colors vanished from the air, and the humming sense of energy dissipated. There was 
only a feeling of emptiness in the room now, along with the stench of burned hair and flesh overlying the 
putrid stink of the magemons themselves.

 One of the three turned over his hand, and Muncel saw large blisters rising on the creatures palm as 
though the energy hed commanded had scorched it.

 Muncel felt no sympathy. Instead, he grew puzzled, then angry. Whats happened? he demanded. 
Why did you stop?

 In unison the three magemons turned to face him. As they did so, Prince Anjilihov drew his sword 
and Tulvak Sahm glided quickly to stand partially in front of Muncel. In his hand glowed a small crystal 
orb, its yellow light shining through his fingers, and his muscles were tense, as though he was preparing 
him-self to hurl this magical weapon at the magemons should it prove necessary.

 Over the years, Muncel had learned that weavers of all kinds of magicsorcerels includedcould be 
strange, unpredictable, even dangerous creatures in the moments immediately after a spell was 
concluded, especially when they had been spellcast-ing for any intense period of time.

 But Muncel had risked too much to permit failure now. His angerswollen by a sense of 
desperationrose in him like a tide. 
You did not finish! he shouted at the magemons. Why did you stop? Did you even find him? Why 
have you failed? 


 The three creatures might have been one, so similar in appearance were they. In some sense they 
could be called men, for they stood upright and walked as men walk. Perhaps once they had even been 
human, before their training changed them into what they were now. On the whole, they were far less 
fathomable than Tulvak Sahm, who at least looked human, even if he was not.

 The three creatures might have been one, so similar in appearance were they. In some sense they 
could be called men, for they stood upright and walked as men walk. Perhaps once they had even been 
human, before their training changed them into what they were now. On the whole, they were far less 
fathomable than Tulvak Sahm, who at least looked human, even if he was not.

 As they stared at him impassively, responding not at all to his questions, Muncel felt bitter 
disappointment flood his mouth like bile. He wanted to order the guards to hurl them from the windows 
to their deaths on the frozen ground below. He had imported this trio from Gant at great expense and 
trouble. He had housed them in a locked tower within the palace walls, supplied them with raw meat, and 
even permitted them to roam freely at night. He had paid a kings ransom in gold coin for them to be 
bound to his service by a powerful spell-agreement that guaranteed him two requests. And Muncels 
requests were very simple: he wanted them to find Faldain and kill him.

 But they were not keeping their end of the bargain. They stared at him now, huge, impassive, and 
silent, as though they understood nothing he said.

 To be cheated was unbearable to Muncel. He refused to let these dirty fiends make a fool of him.

 Answer me! Muncel demanded of them now. Why did you stop?

 Still they said nothing. Fuming, Muncel turned on the foremost Gantese handler. Well? he 
demanded. If they will not speak, do so for them! 
Scowling, the Believer bared his fangs at the magemons. ChyntaF he said sharply, snapping his 
fingers. 
Faldain is found, one of the magemons said, his heavily accented words issuing in a wreath of 

smoke.

 Muncels head lifted. He felt like a pilgrim who sees the shrine ahead. And is he dead?

 He is not dead. He is young and strong.

 Muncel gritted his teeth. Sing not his praises to me. I want him killed!

 Cannot be done in first touch.

 You told me it could!

 Human, yes. Human can be crushed inside so he die. As he spoke, the magemon clenched his large 
fist, then opened it so that his blisters were revealed, now broken and running with pus. But even as 
Muncel stared in revulsion, the sores dried up and became ashes. The magemon wiggled his three 
fingers and the ashes drifted to the floor, revealing a hand smooth-skinned and whole once more. But 
Faldain not much human.

 All the more reason for him to die.

 He has been touched. Can be touched again more easily now.

 Can you kill him the next time?

 Must be touched thrice. Then will he die.

 Muncel bottled his anger and listened. Three times. How long will this take? How soon can you touch 
him again? 
The magemon did not answer. His eye slits closed, and he drew his round head down upon his 

shoulders.

 Tulvak Sahm uttered a harsh word and raised his hand swiftly.

 A puff of vapor exploded against his hand and dissipated into the air with a sour smell.

 Muncel stared, belatedly realizing that the magemon had dared attempt to attack him, might have even 
harmed him had Tulvak Sahm not intervened.

 Unholy monsters! Anjilihov shouted. The protector swung his sword high and charged.

 Shouting in alarm, the Gantese handler stretched out his hands to Muncel. Majesty! Stop him or well 


all perish! 
Anjilihov! Muncel roared. 
The protector paid no heed. As he launched himself at the magemon, Tulvak Sahm flung himself 
bodily against Anjilihov and blocked his path. 
With an oath of frustration, Anjilihov shoved Tulvak Sahm roughly out of his way. Stumbling, the 
sorcerel whirled and spoke a single word. 
Anjilihov froze in mid-step. A look of bewilderment crossed his face before it, too, froze. All he could 
move was his eyes, and they shifted wildly as though imploring the king to order his release. 
At the moment, however, Muncel was too outraged to care how long his protector remained trapped 
in Tulvak Sahms spell.

all perish! 
Anjilihov! Muncel roared. 
The protector paid no heed. As he launched himself at the magemon, Tulvak Sahm flung himself 
bodily against Anjilihov and blocked his path. 
With an oath of frustration, Anjilihov shoved Tulvak Sahm roughly out of his way. Stumbling, the 
sorcerel whirled and spoke a single word. 
Anjilihov froze in mid-step. A look of bewilderment crossed his face before it, too, froze. All he could 
move was his eyes, and they shifted wildly as though imploring the king to order his release. 
At the moment, however, Muncel was too outraged to care how long his protector remained trapped 
in Tulvak Sahms spell.

 Instead, he shifted his gaze to the horrified handlers. Get them out, he ordered. Get them out!

 The Gantese hurried forward to surround the magemons, speaking to the creatures in singsong voices, 
and slowly began to herd them away.

 As soon as they were gone and the door shut with a heavy boom, Muncel closed his eyes and drew in 
several deep breaths. His stomach was burning with fire, and he felt almost faint. Sinking into a 
tall-backed chair, he pressed his hand to his belly and fought both his anger and the strong urge to be 
sick.

 With the utterance of a word, Tulvak Sahm released Anjil-ihov, who went staggering across the room 
before he caught his balance and turned on the sorcerel with a snarl.

 Gods rot your evil heart! Anjilihov said furiously, swinging his sword. When you put your damnable 
spell on me, you imperiled his majestys life. You

 Twas you who imperiled us all, Muncel broke in. Anjilihov, you fool!

 The protector looked at his king in bewilderment. But your majesty was attacked by that demon. Tis 
my responsibility to

 Tulvak Sahm had already dealt with the matter, Muncel told him, leaning forward. You made it 
worse.

 Your majesty, I do protest. Anjilihov shot Tulvak Sahm a jealous glare as he spoke. I thought only 
of your safety.

 You thought only of plunging your sword into the guts of a magemonl Muncel shouted. Gods, 
man! Those creatures could level this stronghold to a pile of rubble in a matter of minutes if they chose to 
unleash their full powers. Had you harmed one, we would have been smote dead.

 Anjilihovs gaze dropped from his. He sheathed his sword and knelt before Muncel. Majesty, I ask 
your forgiveness. I did not realize this danger. 
Obviously, Muncel said, unmoved. Tulvak Sahm circled them both, breathing harshly. Trying to 
ignore him, Muncel kept his gaze on Anjilihov. When I commanded you to stop, you disobeyed me. 
Anjilihov turned pale. He bowed his head nearly to the floor. Forgive me, majesty! I thought only of 

your

 You are not to think! Muncel said angrily. You are to obey.

 Yes, majesty, Anjilihov whispered.

 One more failure, and Ill see you and your family banished to the Worlds Rim. Is that clear?

 Yes, majesty.

 Muncels stomach was burning with pain. A cold chill passed through him, and he suddenly found the 
lingering stench in the air unbearable. Open a window. The air in here is foul.

 Anjilihov jumped to his feet and obeyed, rather than calling a servant to do it.

 Tulvak Sahm continued to circle Muncels chair. The mage-mons are savages, he murmured. 
More dangerous than even I expected. I do not believe the handlers have much control over them. Not 
as much as your majesty was led to expect.

 A blast of icy wind filled the room and stirred the tapestries. Snow blew in and sank into the fur rugs. 


Muncel inhaled the clean, brisk air with relief and felt his head clear.

Muncel inhaled the clean, brisk air with relief and felt his head clear.

 I want to be present, Muncel said stubbornly. I want to know the instant they kill the pretender.

 Then more sorcerels should be summoned here to guard your majesty, Tulvak Sahm said.

 Muncel stared up at the man in astonishment. Tulvak Sahm was close to admitting that his powers 
were less than those of the magemons.

 How long would it take to summon your colleagues?

 Tulvak Sahms face remained inscrutable as he tucked his hands into his sleeves. I can reach them 

with the power of my mind immediately. Their coming would take less than five days. 
Too long. I want this matter finished before then. 
Half of your majestys bargain has been accomplished today, Tulvak Sahm said. That is great 
progress. A few more days will scarcely matter. 
Every day matters! Muncel shouted, only to wince as the pain in his stomach grew worse. The 
pretender is nearly to the border now.

 Word of Faldains return was flying across the kingdom as fast as the news could spread, Muncel 
thought worriedly. Thered already been an outbreak of trouble in Grov itself, traditional seat of Netheran 
kings, just when half his army had been sent west to put down a Grethori uprising. And the northern 
settlements were always rebellious; Muncel could only imagine how the troublemakers there would react 
when news of the pretenders return reached them.

 He pounded his fist on the arm of his chair. I will not have Faldain set foot on Netheran soil, Tulvak 
Sahm. I dare not!

 It does not matter where he dies, the sorcerel assured him.

 The false one will not prevail against your majesty. This have I foretold.

 Horoscope castings no longer reassured Muncel. Where Fal-dain was concerned, Muncel could not 
rest easy. In his nightmares, hed dreamed of lying on the ground, bloody from numerous wounds, while 
Faldainlooking exactly like Tobesz-ijianstood over him victorious. As for his half-brother, whod 
disappeared so mysteriously into thin air nearly two decades ago on his demonic mount, who was to say 
that Tobeszijian himself might not somehow return? There was no proof that he was dead, although 
Tulvak Sahm repeatedly assured Muncel that his half-brother no longer existed in the first world.

 Muncel dared not believe in anything except his own fears and instincts.

 Had he waited for destiny all those years ago, hed still be nothing but Tobeszijians half-brother, 
lower in rank than those eldin brats Tobeszijian had sired. Muncel believed not in fate, but in planning 
ahead. In poisoning an enemy before the battle. In crushing an enemys insides via magic before he could 
incite the people to revolt.

 Glaring at his sorcerel, Muncel said, If the pretender reaches Nether and proclaims himself king 
before the magemons kill him, the people will make a martyr of him. From his grave, he can still cause 
me trouble.

 Tulvak Sahm shrugged. Ghosts have never troubled your majesty before. Why should this one?

 Angrily Muncel refused to answer. He had no intention of admitting the panic he felt whenever he 
heard Faldains name spoken.

 In rational terms, there was little to worry about. The boy was untried and had few resources. He had 
failed to get the support of the Mandrian army, which had been Muncels greatest worry. Rumor said 
that he could not even speak Nedieran.

 Muncel had a powerful army supplemented by Gantese and Nonkind auxiliaries. Ruthless and 
capable, Muncel ruled this kingdom with an iron fist and was well-established on the throne. Moreover, 
Faldain was more eld than human. After all these years, the anti-eld teachings of the Reformed Church 
had had time to take solid hold in the realm. Many people would reject the pretender for his mixed blood 
alone.

 Yet despite his advantages, in the deepest corners of his heart Muncel still feared the boys return. No 
matter how many reassuring horoscopes Tulvak Sahm cast, Muncel remained afraid. No matter how 


often he counted the size of his army, he felt little confidence. Still, he was determined that Faldain would 
never sit on Nethers throne. Never. This, Muncel had sworn long ago in his darkest days, before he 
overthrew Tobeszijian. Hed made a secret pilgrimage to Gant and knelt to the evil god Ashnod. Hed 
drunk a cup of bitterness, wormwood, and gall, said to represent the souls of the condemned. Hed 
eaten ashes said to be the burned bodies of the dead. Hed even spoken words of submission and 
worship to Ashnod, a statue of black stone that smoked and roared in a chamber of flame.

often he counted the size of his army, he felt little confidence. Still, he was determined that Faldain would 
never sit on Nethers throne. Never. This, Muncel had sworn long ago in his darkest days, before he 
overthrew Tobeszijian. Hed made a secret pilgrimage to Gant and knelt to the evil god Ashnod. Hed 
drunk a cup of bitterness, wormwood, and gall, said to represent the souls of the condemned. Hed 
eaten ashes said to be the burned bodies of the dead. Hed even spoken words of submission and 
worship to Ashnod, a statue of black stone that smoked and roared in a chamber of flame.

 As for Muncels own son ... although the child was sickly now, he would grow out of his afflictions 
and one day succeed to his fathers throne. For his sake also, Muncel mused, must Faldain die; the 
people of Nether should never have the chance to compare Faldains sturdy frame and straight limbs to 
Jonans frailty.

 Lifting his gaze to Tulvak Sahm, Muncel said, The pretender must die before he sets foot on 
Netheran soil. I will not wait. 
A knock on the door kept Tulvak Sahm from replying. Hearing the sound of several voices outside, 
Muncel frowned wearily. 
No, he said to Anjilihov. Send whoever it is away. I am unwell and can give no audiences now. 
Unbidden, Tulvak Sahm glided over to the open window and shut it. Bowing to Muncel, he said, 
Churchmen are without. I will go.

 Yes, yes, go, Muncel agreed, and leaned his head back against the chair with a sigh. No doubt word 
had spread through the court about the magemons. That the church was sending a delegation to protest 
their presence was no more than hed expected. But he did not want to deal with them now.

 Anjilihov closed the door firmly and came to him. Cardinal Pernal sought an audience with your 
majesty, but I told him

 Are you truly unwell, majesty? Pernals voice said clearly. I have no doubt of it.

 Opening his eyes, Muncel saw the cardinal advancing into the room, alone and without the pair of 
acolytes who usually helped him walk. Despite his advanced age, Pernals mind was as razor-sharp and 
cunning as ever. Hed suffered a mysterious illness ever since the day hed grabbed of Eternal Life in an 
effort to keep Tobeszijian from stealing it. No remedy in all these years had cured him or given him much 
relief from his sufferings. Yet, like Muncel, Pernal remained ambitious, too ambitious for him to surrender 
to his affliction. Thus, he refused to retire, and still clung to his role as Muncels chief spiritual guide and 
adviser, although Muncel no longer wanted either.

 Now, leaning heavily on his cane, Cardinal Pernal limped across the room toward the king. His face, 
terribly scarred from the old burns, contorted with pain as he came forward, but his eyes were alert and 
outraged.

 Lord cardinal, Muncel said in cold greeting. It seems you are determined to force an audience 
today.

 The old man halted, then bowed with difficulty. Your majesty, he said, sounding out of breath. 
Word reached me this morning that Prince Jonan has fallen ill again. I came to pray for the boy, but 
instead I found your grace closeted with creatures of sin and evil, rather than seeking Tomiass mercy for 
your son.

 Muncels temper blazed, yet he withheld a reply. Had Pernal been any other man in his court, he 
would have ordered his death for such bold condemnation. But Pernal had never feared him. They knew 
too many of each others secrets; they were locked forever in uneasy alliance, friends once, and now 
enemies chained by mutual purpose.

 In the silence, a look of sadness filled the old mans eyes. This room is far too cold. No doubt youve 
had it aired to hide your misdeeds, like a schoolboy concealing evidence of his pranks.

 Muncel frowned.

 But of course your majesty is no schoolboy, and the evil that was done in this chamber is no prank. 


Alas, that such foul creatures are now permitted free run of your majestys court.

Alas, that such foul creatures are now permitted free run of your majestys court.

 And your tame sorcereli Is he also locked away?

 Gritting his teeth, Muncel said nothing. That Pernal dared to stand here and chastise him was almost 
more than he was willing to take. The cardinal, Muncel vowed, had best take care.

 I grieve to see this, Pernal said relentlessly. Long ago when you and I plotted the firm establishment 
of the Reformed Church in this realm, I never dreamed things would come to this.

 I have no time for reminiscences, Muncel said impatiently. Was there something in particular you 
wished to ask me, lord cardinal?

 I come not to ask but to rebuke.

 That, you have done.

 And your heart remains hard and closed. Pernal shook his head sadly. I wish to pray for your 
majestys soul. Come with me to the chapel for a short while. Let us refresh our spirits together.

 Despite himself, Muncel stiffened. Rising to his feet, he snapped, Another time. Not today.

 No, Pernal said softly. I thought not. You have been giving me that same answer for many years 
now, majesty. You cannot delay seeking the merciful forgiveness of Tomias forever.

 I need no forgiveness, Muncel said angrily. Thank you for the offer. I must continue with other 
matters now.

 He started to step around the cardinal, but Pernal was not finished with him. There is something else I 
must tell your majesty.

 Then say it quickly!

 My agents have found Faldain.

 Feeling as though hed been struck, Muncel glared at the cardinal. What mean you by this? On 
whose authority do you seek out the pretender?

 On the authority of the church, your majesty.

 He is my enemy, Muncel declared. I will deal with him in my own fashion.

 You want him dead. No doubt those creatures in your employ have been casting their evil spells, 
blaspheming here, in order to destroy Tobeszijians son.

 Yes, I want him dead, Muncel growled. And I will have him so.

 My men have orders to capture Prince Faldain alive and to bring him to Belrad without delay.

 Taken aback by this audacity, Muncel stared at the old man for a full moment before he managed to 
speak. Belrad? Why not Grov? Why not put the scepter in his hand? How dare you?

 Nay, majesty! How dare you jeopardize ?

 What? I dont understand.

 Pernals eyes were blazing. Of course you dont. You havent been thinking clearly since the boy was 
discovered at Savroix.

 Muncels brows knotted. He felt his anger building inside him like an explosive force. Growling in his 
throat, he began to pace back and forth, making curt, chopping gestures with his hands. The pretender 
seeks to have me overthrown. He is too great a danger.

 He is the only link we have tos whereabouts. He must not be killed until that knowledge is wrested 
from him. 
Pemals words rang through the chamber. Some of Muncels panic and anger diminished, yet he was 
also aghast at what the old man wanted. 
Yes, Pernal said, nodding his scarred head. His eyes, clear and commanding, bored deep into 

Muncel. He knows where its hidden.

 How can you be sure?

 Was he not with his father when was taken? Think of it, majesty! In all likelihood he has lived with it, 
grown up with it. Undoubtedly he possesses it now, or has left it concealed where no one but himself can 
find it. He must be captured and brought here alive.

 He wont tell us what he knows, Muncel said. Why should he?

 But if he carries with him, we shall have it! Holy fervor shone in Pernals eyes. The sacred vessel 


will be restored to its rightful place in the cathedral. Its blessed light will once again shine on this afflicted 

will be restored to its rightful place in the cathedral. Its blessed light will once again shine on this afflicted 

 You think it will heal you.

 Pernal bowed his head. It will heal many. Perhaps it will show mercy to me as well.

 Muncel snorted. Have you forgotten how it maimed you?

 That was Tobeszijians doing. itself does only good.

 Clasping his hands at his back, Muncel resumed pacing. You should have consulted me first.

 Your majesty is not the head of the Reformed Church. Thod and his prophet Tomias rule our souls.

 Muncel scowled, but he knew when to give in. Very well. If your agents have found the pretender, 
send them word to seize him where he is. Have him searched. Reclaim if you can, but do not have him 
brought to Belrad. That would be the gravest folly.

 But if he does not travel with , we must wrest the knowledge of its location from him. At the 
cathedral, we can hold him prisoner and open his mind.

 Would you force him? Muncel asked, curious as to how far Pernal would go.

 If he will not aid us willingly, aye. There was no mercy now in Pernals voice. It rang out as harshly 
as Muncels own. The true test of his worthiness to rule Nether is if he will sacrifice himself to restore to 
its rightful place. If he resists, then he is unworthy.

 What gibberish is this? Muncel roared, losing his temper completely. His pulse was throbbing in his 
temples and his stomach churned as though hed swallowed fire. You would give him a test before you 
hand him my throne? You speak treason, old man!

 Proving his worthiness to rule does not mean he will have your throne, Pernal replied without 
flinching. But I will have from him before I permit him to fall into your majestys hands.

 Permit? Muncel repeated, choking. Permit? How dare you! I

 You are not thinking! Pernal snapped. You are letting your emotions rule your actions, and that is 
always fatal, majesty! It was the first lesson in statecraft that I taught you.

 Furious, Muncel drew his dagger, but instead of fear contempt blazed in the cardinals eyes. No 
matter that youve abandoned your faith. I must uphold it, he said with conviction. For Nethers sake, I 
must! Its my sworn duty to see that returns to us.

 Muncel stared at the dagger clenched in his hand. A deep shudder shook his frame, and he felt tired to 
the depths of his soul.

 Do you not realize, he asked quietly, that if returns it will cast me out for all I have done?

 Pernals eyes widened, and he drew in a sharp breath. Majesty, he said in a tone of compassion, 
allow me to heal your soul before its too late. Let restore the faith you gave away

 Muncel stepped up to him and plunged his dagger deep into the old mans stomach.

 Disbelief filled Pernals eyes. He stared at Muncel, and although his mouth worked no words came 

out. 
At last you have gone too far, Muncel said to him, and twisted the knife deeper into Pernals vitals. 
You fool! You should have understood that I do not want back. Not now. Not at any price. 
Pernals scarred, hideous face looked frozen. His eyes stared, the vital force inside them dimming 
slowly. You have condemned yourself, he whispered, and died.

 Muncel pulled out his dagger as the old man crumpled to the floor, and absently the king handed his 
weapon to Prince Anjilihov. As his protector wiped off the dagger, Muncel stared at the corpse at his 
feet. He felt empty and foreign to himself.

 I was condemned long ago, he said softly, and nudged the body with his toe. You were a fool, 
Pernal, not to see it sooner.

 At Thirst Hold Dain looked in on Sir Terent, who lay bandaged and sleeping, then made his way to the 
chapel. The interior of this small place of worship was as shadowy as usual. Just inside the threshold, 
Dain paused to let his eyes adjust. The air was cold, dry, and musty, smelling of incense and candle wax.

 The religious murals painted on the wallscrude renderings indeed after the sophisticated art Dain had 
seen at Savroix looked dusty and blurred in the shadows. Tiny motes of dust danced in the sunlight 
pouring down through the oculus overhead. This was a simple place of worship, built for simple folk, yet 


pride and reverence showed in the immaculate snowiness of the altar cloth and in the brightly polished 
brass Circle hanging from the ceiling.

pride and reverence showed in the immaculate snowiness of the altar cloth and in the brightly polished 
brass Circle hanging from the ceiling.

 Alas, our poor Lord Odfrey, cut down too early. Far too early, the priest said mournfully. The 
people have not yet recovered from the loss. They loved him like children love a parent. They have been 
lost without him here, guiding and providing for them.

 Dain took the torch from the priests hand and dismissed him. Glancing at Sir Polquin, he said, Wait 
for me here.

 Nodding, the temporary knight protector positioned himself at the foot of the steps. Ill see youre not 
disturbed.

 Thank you.

 Dain made his way slowly through the tombs. He found this to be a strange and eerie place of death. 
Sensitive to the eternal quiet, the musty shadows, and how the slightest of sounds echoed, Dain preferred 
the dwarf custom of burying the dead beneath dirt or inside wood. He believed that the spirit was long 
gone to the third world; why not let the body decay as all living things in the forest eventually returned to 
the soil? But it seemed Mandrians valued stone to guard their bones.

 At the far end of the crypt he came at last to Odfreys tomb. As yet it was only a plain box of stone. 
No statue lay atop it, and Dain supposed the carving was not yet finished. He would have to inquire, and 
make sure all was done in accordance with the customs of Odfreys family.

 A small plaque inscribed with Odfreys full name and the dates of his birth and death was all that 
adorned the plain surface. In Dains eyes, it seemed fitting that Odfrey should lie in such simple state. He 
had lived a plain, utilitarian life, avoiding frills and finery as much as he could. Yet there was one thing his 
tomb lacked that Dain could supply.

 Dain quietly slid his torch into a wall sconce, then drew his swordOdfreys swordfrom its 
scabbard. As plain and well-worn as its former master, the weapon had never quite fit Dains hand, and 
he knew where this blade belonged.

 With reverence, Dain kissed the hilt of the sword and laid it atop Odfreys tomb before he knelt at its 
base.

 It felt strange to be in a place of death without the proper Elements to conduct a service of respect. 
Dain had no salt, no stones, no basin of water, no candles, no fresh-peeled rods of ash. He had not 
brought such things with him because Odfrey had not believed in them. Therefore, he would honor the 
man whod befriended him and given him so much by praying as Odfrey had taught him to pray.

 Closing his eyes, he offered his short, simple request to Thod the Mighty. He asked that Odfreys soul 
abide happily in the third world, reunited there with his son Hilard and his lady wife, who had both died 
years ago. There had been much grief and loneliness hidden in the chevards heart. Now Dain hoped his 
sorrow had vanished forever.

 At the end of his prayer, Dain sighed, knowing that according to the teachings of the Reformed 
Church, he had done his duty.

 But he was not finished. Still kneeling, he bowed his head and communed with his memories of the 
man whod become like a father to him, even though they had known each other less than a year. He had 
respected and admired Odfrey so much. He had yearned to please the man, to make the chevard proud 
of him. Odfrey had been the first man Dain trusted, the first Mandrian to show him kindness. It was 
thanks to Odfrey that Dain had discovered his own royal heritage, for without the chevards quest to see 
him officially adopted, Dain would have never met King Verence, whod recognized his pendant of bard 
crystal for what it really was.

 So much had happened of late. Dain longed to be walking about the hold at Lord Odfreys side, 
seeking his counsel, for there was much ahead of him that he did not know how to handle. He wished 
that, just one last time, he could see the calm good sense in the chevards dark eyes, could hear the man 
talking to him about strategy and planning. In his young life, Dain had lost first his true father, who left him 


in the Dark Forest and never returned; then Jorb, the dwarf swordmaker whod served as a guardian 
while Dain was growing up; and now Odfrey, a decent man of generous heart and open mind whod 
seen past Dains rough edges to show him a future beyond his wildest dreams.

in the Dark Forest and never returned; then Jorb, the dwarf swordmaker whod served as a guardian 
while Dain was growing up; and now Odfrey, a decent man of generous heart and open mind whod 
seen past Dains rough edges to show him a future beyond his wildest dreams.

 I go to fight a great war, lord, he cast forth in his mind. I am barely a knight, barely a lord, barely a 
king, yet I must fight as all three. How can I be seasoned and wily? What must I know? What must I 
learn to prepare myself for the trials that lie ahead of me? Oh, lord, if only your spirit could ride with me 
into battle, then I would not fear what is to come.

 He waited a moment, but sensed no response. It is custom with your people and mine that a son 
should inherit his fathers sword. I have carried yours, lord, the one that you used daily with honor, the 
one that you died with. And now I have brought it back to you.

 He paused, concentrating so hard that sweat beaded up along his temples. Around him pressed the 
silence of eternity. He heard nothing but the steady boom of his own heartbeat.

 Lord, if you are aware of me still, hear my request. I need Truthseeker in order to fight the darkness 
that will be my foe. You taught me that this weapon is not to be used for trivial battles. I ask for its use to 
regain my throne, and surely that cause is worthy. If my taking it offends you, show me the breath of your 
displeasure and I swear that I will not carry it away. But if you approve, fill my heart with your strength.

 He waited a long while, waited until all he could hear was the muted hissing of the torch as it burned 
low. He waited until his knees ached on the stone floor, but nothing came to him. No murmur of approval 
or disapproval. No breath of benediction or protest.

 Nothing at all.

 Sighing, Dain had never felt more pagan and apart from the ways of Mandria than at that moment, for 
surely Lord Odfreys soul had not heard his prayer at all.

 It had been futile to believe his troubles could be eased this way. Dain raised himself stiffly, then placed 
both hands on the stone box which surrounded Lord Odfreys bones and bade him farewell.

 Although hed gained no answer, at least hed performed the courtesy of asking. Henceforth, if 
Odfreys spirit grew wroth at Dains use of Truthseeker and chose to haunt him, so be it. He would take 
what he needed. He would take what he wanted. All that was here belonged to him, by man-law, and he 
would claim it.

 He did not let himself glance back as he strode from the crypt.

 Once outside, he paused in the courtyard and looked at Sir Polquin. What is the custom here, in the 
swearing of oaths to a new chevard?

 Sir Polquin blinked at the question. Well now, its custom to end the mourning with a feasta great 
banquet in the Hall.

 Go on.

 And then toasts are drunk, and the men come forward to swear themselves into your service.

 The vaulted swords, the honor they showed me this morning. What was that?

 Another custom of respect, Sir Polquin replied, squinting against the sunshine. Respect due to the 
chevards heir.

 Dains throat was suddenly full. He struggled to swallow before he could command his voice. And if I 
asked them to swear their service this afternoon, in this yard? He swept his arm in a gesture at the paved 
courtyard. Would that break custom too much, if we had the oaths before the banquet feast?

 Sir Polquin stared at him hard. Whats turning in that head of yours, sire? Whatre you up to?

 We have little time before we must resume our journey, Dain said. I would see this done before I 
leave for Nether.

 But surely theres a few days yet. The poor ladys too ill to be moved now. And word has to be sent 
to the nearby holds, at least the upland ones, so that the other chevards can come and stand as 
witnesses.

 Frustrated, Dain swore softly beneath his breath. But if they are not present? Does that invalidate the 
oaths? 


 Nay. Its just an upland custom from the old days. It makes sure that no false claims can be brought 
against you.

 Nay. Its just an upland custom from the old days. It makes sure that no false claims can be brought 
against you.

 Why? Sir Polquin asked. Have you a worry that the menll balk? Ill cram my sword down their 
gullets if they dont line up proper.

 Nay, therell be no oaths at swordpoint, if you please, sir knight!

 What then? Whats the hurry?

 I cant say. I just have a feeling.... Dain abruptly made up his mind. Let the order be given. Notify 
Sir Bosquecel that I want the oaths given this afternoon. A rider will take the announcement to the other 
holds. Well feast tonight, and be ready to rejoin Gavrils company on the morrow.

 Sir Polquin started to speak, then held his tongue with a frown.

 Dain glanced at him. I dont trust his highness. It troubles me to stay too long from where I can keep 
my eye on him.

 Seems to me, sire, that Prince Gavril has his eye on you.

 Perhaps. But theres also Sulein to think of, now that hes been pressed into serving as a guardian.

 Sulein! Sir Polquin snorted in disgust. Good riddance, I say. That smelly hedge-pig of a physician 
ought to

 I need him, Dain broke in.

 Why? According to what I hear from Terent, youve never liked the foreign scoundrel. Havent from 
the first day of your being here. Why, your grace even ran off in the forest just to escape having lessons 
with him.

 This last was not true, but Dain had long ago given up trying to set common misconception straight. I 
need him, he repeated. He has something that belongs to me, and until I can get it away from him

 Tell me what it is, and Ill have it off his miserable hide in a twinkling, Sir Polquin said fiercely. Why 
didnt your grace speak up about it sooner?

 Hes concealed it with a spell, and I cant get it away from him until he releases it.

 Morde! Sir Polquin stared wide-eyed at Dain. Even more reason to get rid of him. Why Lord 
Odfrey put up with his nasty ways, Ive never understood. He only brought him here to see if he could 
cure Master Hilard. Which he didnt.

 Believe me, Dain said, once I have my property, you may do with him as you will.

 A thief, Sir Polquin muttered, glaring beneath his knotted brows. Well, now. Ill have to see what I 
can do.

 Nothing at present, Dain reminded him. Not as long as hes a guardian.

 Probably put himself there just to keep himself out of our clutches. Fear not: Terent and I will get 
him.

 You cant as long as hes a guardian.

 Casting spells is against Writ, Sir Polquin said sternly. Thod may strike him down for it. But what is 
it hes taken?

 He wears a ring, very old, carved with runes and set with a smooth white stone, Dain said, striving to 
keep his voice casual. He dared not tell even Sir Polquin just how valuable this ring was. If you ever see 
it on his hand, that means the spell concealing it has faded. It can be plucked from his finger then, and 
only then.

 Ill keep that in mind, sire. But I never saw you wearing such a ring when you came to Thirst.

 Dain frowned. Sir Polquins memory remained as sharp as ever, and he was notoriously hard to fool. 
It belonged to my father, he said with honesty. How Sulein came by it, I know not. But its important.

 Then Ill warn Terent, and well keep watch for it. Now for this business of the oath-giving. By your 
leave, Ill send a page to summon Sir Bosquecel.

 Shortly thereafter the captain of the guard arrived. He looked thinner and grayer these days, but he still 
carried himself straight and erect. Although he blinked at Dains request, he bowed in immediate, 
unquestioning obedience as a knight and hold officer was expected to.

 The oath service can take place just after midday, mlord, he said brusquely. Im sorry to hear that 


you cannot be staying with us long, but Ill have the men ready.

you cannot be staying with us long, but Ill have the men ready.

 Sir Bosquecel saluted, then strode away to attend to his duties, and Dain turned toward his wardroom.

 But hed barely reached the steps leading indoors when there came a shout from the sentries atop the 
wall. Riders on the approach!

 Dain looked around with a grin. Its Gavril! Hes brought her here after all.

 Feeling a rush of joy, he threw away his new dignity and ran for the steps leading up to the sentry 
walk. With Sir Polquin at his heels, Dain hurried along, his shoulder brushing the stone crenellations. At 
the vantage point overlooking the southwest, he paused and leaned out to watch the group approaching.

 The crisp wind ruffled his hair. He saw a small party of ten riders riding beneath the Lunt colors of 
scarlet and black, and disappointment stabbed him.

 At his shoulder, Sir Polquin grunted. Those arent the princes colors. Why, its men from Lunt. Odd 
that theyve come here. Probably just a patrol checking in to see that alls well. Shortly thereafter, the 
Lunt men were admitted through the gates, and a sentry knight came striding up to where Dain still waited 
on the ramparts.

 Mlord, he said in a thick uplander accent. Its Lord Re-nald come asking for audience wi ye.

 Dain frowned, impatient with the prospect of a visit he had no desire for. His time here was short; he 
had many things to do.

 Sir Polquin breathed down the back of Dains neck. Heres your chevard witness for the oath-giving. 
Come like a gift of providence.

 Some of Dains impatience faded. Did Chevard Renald say what business brings him hence? he 
asked the sentry.

 Nay, mlord, the knight replied. Seems a bit rattled. Theres been plenty of trouble hereabouts wi 
raids and such like. Mayhap hes seeking Thirst men to ride forth wi Lunt.

 Dain thought of Pheresa lying in a tent with only a fence of wattle built around her. She had no salt or 
sticks of peeled ash to protect her from Nonkind raiders. Only those damned church soldiers, who were 
too arrogant to learn or listen.

 Mlord

 Yes! Of course, Dain said hastily, pulling himself from his worried thoughts. See that the chevard is 
bid welcome. Ill receive him at once.

 The sentry bowed and hurried away.

 Dain looked at Sir Polquin, who said grimly, Sounds like troubles afoot.

 Aye. But where do I receive him? Dain asked. The wardrooms been locked. Lord Odfreys things 
are still He choked up and suddenly could not finish his sentence.

 Had Sir Terent been with him, the man would have reached out and gripped his shoulder in the way he 
used to comfort Dain. Aye, lad, he would have said softly.  Tis hard to bear.

 But the master-at-arms crossed his muscular arms over his chest. Wardrooms the proper place for 
such, he said gruffly. Best get used to it, now that its yours.

 His words were like a dash of cold water, and Dain nod-ded. Very well, he said, and spun on his 
heel to return the way hed come.

 A few minutes later, he was standing at Lord Odfreys desk in the lords small, homey chamber, which 
had grown stale and musty in its owners absence. He was conscious of the presence of Truthseeker, 
lying in the chest behind his chair. He could feel the subtle throb of it, a whisper of its voice, as though the 
sword was stirring to life because of Dains proximity. An involuntary thrill raced up Dains spine. // 
knows, he thought in excitement. It knows I mean to carry it into battle. Cobwebs had been spun over 
the hearth, and their delicate tracery shimmered in the sunlight slanting in through the window. 
Parchments, maps, and dispatches littered the top of the desk, and that huge beautifully illustrated map of 
the kingdoms that Dain had once admired was still draped over the tall-backed chair.

 Hearing booted footsteps approaching his door, Dain whisked the map off the chair. He was still 
rolling it up when a knock sounded. 
Sir Polquin swung open the door, then stepped back. Lord Renald, your grace. 


 The Chevard of Lunt Hold entered with a swagger. His black cloak was thrown back over his 
shoulders, and his scarlet sur-coat was wrinkled and mud-splattered from hard riding. Young and 
strongly built, with an elegant chin-beard and mustache, Lord Renald looked exactly as Dain 
remembered him from the night of Dains trial in the Hall, when Dain had killed the shapeshifter and 
saved Gavrils life. Renalds intelligent eyes were fairly snapping just now with impatience and 
disappointment.

 The Chevard of Lunt Hold entered with a swagger. His black cloak was thrown back over his 
shoulders, and his scarlet sur-coat was wrinkled and mud-splattered from hard riding. Young and 
strongly built, with an elegant chin-beard and mustache, Lord Renald looked exactly as Dain 
remembered him from the night of Dains trial in the Hall, when Dain had killed the shapeshifter and 
saved Gavrils life. Renalds intelligent eyes were fairly snapping just now with impatience and 
disappointment.

 Thank you. Most kind, Lord Renald broke in curtly with none of his usual suavity. He seemed to 
notice his abruptness and checked himself. Forgive me. Ive been up since before dawn, riding like I 
had hurlhounds on my heels.

 Theres trouble, then, Dain said with a sinking heart. He didnt want to get caught up in the problems 
of this land. His way still led north. What sort?

 As he spoke, he pointed to the chair, and Lord Renald dropped into it heavily. A servant entered with 
a tray of cider in cups, and Lord Renald drained his in one swallow.

 Grimacing, he slammed the empty cup down. Damne, thats the sourest vintage Ive yet drunk from 
Thirst orchards.

 Dain left his own cup untouched and seated himself behind the desk. It felt strange indeed to have 
Lord Odfreys things around him. He kept thinking that Lord Odfrey would come striding in at any 
moment and take charge, but of course that could not happen.

 Im sorry theres no stronger drink to offer, Dain said. The hold cellars need filling with wine and 
mead.

 Lord Renald shrugged, dismissing the matter. His shrewd eyes regarded Dain for a moment, sizing him 
up. Dain felt his face grow hot beneath that intent gaze, but he returned it with equal steadiness.

 I own myself astonished to see you here, Lord Dain, the man said after a pause. The word we had 
of you was that you were lying ill abed at Savroix. Yet youre here, looking hale and hearty.

 My recovery progressed quicker than expected.

 Lord Renalds brows shot up. And is it truth or rumor that youre the lost king of Nether?

 The direct question took Dain aback. Youre well-informed, my lord.

 Lord Renalds gaze did not waver. Truth or rumor?

 Truth.

 The chevard rose to his feet and bowed. Then your majesty honors me with this audience.

 Please be seated, Dain said. Youve ridden hard. Rest yourself.

 Lord Renald hesitated, then resumed his seat. Morde a day, but youre a casual king.

 Im not crowned yet, Dain replied.

 Lord Renald grinned and suddenly looked not much older than Dain himself. Aye, thats a valid point. 
May I bring my business here before your majesty?

 Dain nodded.

 I come looking for Prince Gavril. The word is that hes on his road northward to Nether.

 Aye, he is.

 Well, damne! Isnt he here?

 No.

 Morde. These raids keep me sore pressed of late. Thod knows I have better things to do than chase 
in every direction in search of his highness. But Im bidden to tell him he must turn back.

 Turn back! Dain echoed in surprise. But why?

 That should be obvious.

 Dain found himself flushing. You must explain. It is not obvious to me.

 Lord Renald looked at him as though he were a fool. Has his highnesshave yougiven no thought 
to the reports weve been sending to Savroix since early autumn?

 His highness is on a mission of mercy. He does not intend to turn back.

 Lord Renald grunted. I have received direct orders from King Verence to stop Prince Gavril and turn 


him homeward. If hed sought shelter for the night at Lunt, as I expected him to, it would have been an 
easy matter. As tis, now I must hunt him. I tell you, Lord Dain, I have neither the time nor the manpower 
to spare for such a task.

him homeward. If hed sought shelter for the night at Lunt, as I expected him to, it would have been an 
easy matter. As tis, now I must hunt him. I tell you, Lord Dain, I have neither the time nor the manpower 
to spare for such a task.

 What?

 He must have been warned of the kings intent, Dain said. Hes insisted we camp on the road every 
night since we left Tuisons and started overland. Not even here to Thirst will he come.

 A line appeared between Lord Renalds brows. And have you also a missive from the king, telling 
you to turn his highness back?

 Nay. Unless its come without my being told. Dain leaned forward. I arrived but this morning.

 Lord Renald rose to his feet. Then youve a host of things to do. And I have more riding before me.

 Will you not bide long enough to take a midday meal here?

 Lord Renald seemed pleased by the offer. Your grace is in-deed hospitable. Certainly youve grown 
more polished than you were when I saw you last.

 Flushing at the compliment, Dain also rose to his feet. At Savroix, it was necessary to learn quickly.

 So I imagine. Well now, thank you for your kindness, but I dare not tarry while this task is on me.

 His highness is camped but a few miles from here. No more than a league, if that far, Dain said.

 Lord Renald stared at him in astonishment. Then why does he not come here? Why risk

 I told you. He obviously intends to avoid receiving his fathers order.

 The chevard frowned, a muscle working in his jaw. Well, no matter what he intends, his highness is to 
return to Savroix at once. He cant evade the order now, no matter how he tries.

 But why must he turn back? Dain asked. There is Lady Pheresa to consider. If we abandon the 
journey now, she will surely perish.

 Lord Renald shrugged. I know nothing of that. I have my orders, and his highness is soon to have 
his.

 But what has alarmed King Verence so? Dain asked. Trouble with Nonkind?

 Aye, all the usual mess and more, the chevard said with feeling. There have been three trolk attacks 
on Lunt in the past month. Well probably eat our Aelintide feast with our hands on our weapons.

 Trolks havent banded together in years.

 Theyre at it now. As many as fifty to a pack sometimes. Thod knows how well keep them off if they 
continue to come. But theres some new trouble between King Verence and Nether, or so I hear. Thats 
why his majesty doesnt want the prince to continue northward.

 The treaty, Dain said in dismay. There must be a disagreement on terms.

 Aye. Now Id best go.

 Wait, my lord, Dain said quickly. There is a favor I would ask you.

 Better to ask it after I speak to his highness, Lord Renald said, and turned to go.

 Its about my oath service, Dain said quickly.

 Lord Renald halted in his tracks, then swung back. You have a kingdom north of here. Will you claim 
a mere hold for yourself as well?

 Thirst is mine, Dain said harshly. By Verences warrant and Lord Odfreys wish.

 Did Odfrey know your true identity?

 Dain met the chevards probing eyes and made no reply.

 After a moment Lord Renald blinked. Morde, he said softly. I always knew there was more to 
Odfrey than duties and battle. The only reason he accepted Prince Gavril as a foster here was to measure 
what kind of manaye, and kinghe would grow into. How you fell into his hands as well, Thod only 
knows.

 Will you witness my oath service? Dain asked again.

 Ill come back for it, if the raids allow.

 My lord, Im having it this day.

 Your grace seems to be in a great hurry. 


 I am.

 I am.

 Dains shoulders stiffened. I was named knight and chevard by his majesty, King Verence, he said 
curtly. No longer am I considered pagan, but a lord of Mandria

 Mandria or Edonia? Lord Renald asked with equal sharpness. Rumor says you favor division.

 You hear perhaps too many rumors, my lord. This one is wrong, Dain declared. I favor keeping 
Thirst strong enough to withstand what Gant will one day send at it.

 Nether will be coming at it soon enough, Lord Renald said. This treaty offered to King Verence 
mocks us, and I pray to Thod he will reject it, even if it means war.

 Nether is not an enemy yet, Dain said.

 Are you promising to keep it allied to Mandria?

 Dains head lifted at that challenge. King Verence and my father were friends, and they kept 
friendship between their realms. I would do the same. 
Easy to say. Harder, perhaps, to do. I have been to Nether once, four years past. Tis a filthy land, 
full of pestilence and thieves. 
Dains nostrils flared, but he kept his temper. Once more will I ask you, Lord Renald. Will you, as 

Chevard of Lunt, witness my oath service as Chevard of Thirst?

 Do you understand that by so doing I put myself and my hold at risk?

 How so?

 Obviously you mean to lead Thirst knights into Nether, Lord Renald said. There can be no other 
reason for such haste. I know my king. He will be furious if you do this. I do not care to risk his ire.

 You are more at risk if you fail to convey his message to Prince Gavril.

 How so? You said his highness is close by.

 I did not say he would be easy to find. Is he on the main highway or a lesser road? How much time 
have you to search for him?

 Damne! What games do you play with me now? Dain crossed his arms over his chest and simply 
watched Lord Renald.  Twas you who said you havent much time. 

 Us unfriendly to force a man to take risks he shouldnt. Dain shrugged. You uplanders are perhaps 
too cautious.

 We uplanders have reason to be! Lord Renald retorted. My grandfather survived the War of 
Union, when Edonia was brought to heel. He survived, but he struggled thereafter with harsh taxation and 
was forced to surrender half his lands. The lowlanders have stamped their feet hard on our necks, and 
only in recent years have the penalties eased. We are trusted now, but we paid a bitter price for it. Ill not 
be accused of joining the divisionists.

 I do not ask you to do that, Dain replied. He saw that he was not going to budge Lord Renald by 
any means of persuasion hed tried thus far. It was time for frank speaking. Im no intriguer, my lord. I 
do not plot political strategies here. When I ride into Nether, possibly I shall never return. But if I do not 
validate my warrant of inheritance by receiving the oaths of Thirsts men ... if I do not follow the customs 
and complete my duties as an adopted son of Odfreys, then my departure and absence will render Thirst 
unclaimed. Its ancient charter will be dissolved, and it will pass into King Verences hands. I have heard 
that Prince Gavril is counting on this and intends to use the hold for a hunting lodge.

 Lord Renald blinked.

 Dain nodded. Perhaps you do not care if the Thirst crest is chiseled off the walls and the royal seal 
replaces it. But I care. This is perhaps the last thing I can do to preserve Odfreys ancestral lands as they 
were meant to be. I seek to honor his wishes as best I can.

 Lord Renald looked increasingly thoughtful as he listened. I see. But if you keep ownership of Thirst, 
the hold will have no chevard to manage it, or to help protect this part of the border.

 If I survive what lies before me, I shall remedy that, Dain said. I should like a son of mine to return 
here.

 Lord Renald shot him a wry look. In that case Thirst would belong to Nether, and it would still be 


lost to the uplands.

lost to the uplands.

 Is that all this is? A ploy to keep his highness from seizing the hold for his own?

 Dain hesitated, then nodded. Aye.

 Lord Renald laughed. At least thats honest. Is this how you mean to get back at his highness for 
having falsely accused you at trial here? 
Its not about revenge, Dain said stiffly, thinking of that night in Thirsts Hall when hed saved 
Gavrils life from the shapeshifter. Its ... Much lies between us, my lord. Tis complicated to explain. 
Never mind, Lord Renald said with a shrug. I know enough about feuds. They never stop, and they 

can consume you if you are not careful.

 Dain said nothing, just gazed steadily at the man.

 Very well, King Dain, Lord Renald conceded with a sigh. I will witness your oath service and see 
you rightfully placed as chevard. If you fail at being a king, perhaps you can come back and run this hold, 
eh?

 Dains smile soured a bit. As an endorsement of support, it wasnt much, but he supposed he should 
be grateful that Lord Renald was agreeing at all.

 I thank you, he said formally. Come, let us eat together. Then as soon as the ceremony is finished, I 
will direct you to Prince Gavrils camp.

 He will hate us both for this, Lord Renald said with a sigh.

 Aye, he will, Dain agreed. But I, at least, am used to it.

 Despite the brightness of the midday sun, the wind blew cold. The banners of Thirst Hold snapped in 
the breeze while a trumpet rang out and drumbeats rolled.

 In solemn procession, the knights of Thirst marched forth from the guardhouse before an awestruck 
crowd of servants, villagers, and serfs. Each knight wore full armor and carried arms. Each knight led his 
charger, with his shield tied to his saddle. The horses were caprisoned for war with armored saddlecloths 
and head plates. Their iron shoes scraped and rang on the paving stones as they filed into the innermost 
courtyard. The knights came in order of rank. Sir Bosquecel led the line, followed by Sir Alard and the 
other first-rank knights, then the middle-rank knights, then the sentry-rank knights, and at the rear, the 
elderly or battle-maimed knights who no longer rode to war but served light duties as door guards and 
strategists. Behind this procession came the delegation of squires, squirming and nervous in their dark 
green tunics and wool cloaks.

 Atop the stone steps leading to the Hall, Dain sat in a tall-backed chair. He still wore his mail hauberk, 
but had donned one of Lord Odfreys dark green surcoats for the occasion. His thick black hair had 
been braided up the back of his skull, war-rior fashion, revealing his pointed ears. A narrow circlet of 
golda gift from Prince Spirin before Dain left Savroixrested on his brow for the first time. His 
magnificent ruby ring gleamed on his finger.

 Behind his chair stood Sir Terent, looking pale and drawn but proud. Sir Polquin was beside him, with 
his bullish shoulders drawn back and his head high. It was a kings right to have two protectors if he 
chose, and Dain had just named Sir Polquin to the second position a few minutes earlier. For once, the 
master-at-arms had been struck speechless, but his eyes were shining over the honor bestowed on him.

 To Dains left stood Lord Renald with his small band of Lunt knights. To his right were the priest and 
Thum, who kept grinning despite his attempts to stay solemn.

 The procession of knights halted at the foot of the steps, and the drums fell silent.

 The herald stepped forward. By the right of inheritance and the warrant of his majesty, King Verence, 
this man Faldain is proclaimed Chevard of Thirst. According to law, the oaths of service which bind these 
assembled men of arms to Odfrey, Lord of Thirst, are hereby dissolved and void.

 Some of the knights bowed their heads. Dains keen ears caught the faintest murmur of whispering 
among the house servants and pages looking on.

 This was the moment, Dain told himself, where everything could go awry. Freed of all allegiance, the 
knights could now ride forth from Thirst and pledge their service elsewhere. No one could forcibly bind 
them to Dain, whether he was the lawful chevard or not. He sat there trying to look impassive, but his 


mouth was dry and his heart was thumping hard inside his chest. If he had not been eld he would not 
have been much worried, but uplanders were notoriously prejudiced against those of his kind.

mouth was dry and his heart was thumping hard inside his chest. If he had not been eld he would not 
have been much worried, but uplanders were notoriously prejudiced against those of his kind.

 The drumbeats resumed.

 Dain rose to his feet and went down the steps to where the knights stood in a long row before their 
horses. Behind him, Sir Terent and Sir Polquin followed. It was required that Dain go to each knight in 
turn, the action a symbol of his humble supplication. Once the oaths were given, his every command 
would have to be obeyed without question or hesitation, but until then he was to think of how bereft and 
insignificant he would be without his men. The ceremony and its meanings had all been explained to him, 
and he felt nervous and stiff in the knees.

 As he reached Sir Bosquecel, he stopped and turned to face the man, who stared back from beneath 
his upraised visor.

 Ask the question, Sir Terent mumbled in Dains ear.

 Thus prompted, Dain said, I come to you in need, Sir Bosquecel. What am I given?

 The hold commander drew his sword and knelt before Dain to lay his weapon on the ground between 
them. I give you my sword in service, loyalty, and honor, he replied, his voice firm and clear. I swear 
to obey and fight in the name of Faldain, until my days be ended. Aelmn. 

Aelmn, intoned the priest, stepping up to anoint Sir Bosquecels brow in blessing.

 Drawing in an unsteady breath, Dain moved to the next man in line. Sir Alard, he said. I come to 
you once more in need. Although you gave your oath before, what will you give now?

 Sir Alard knelt and laid his sword on the ground between them. He gave the same answer Sir 
Bosquecel had, with equal assurance and conviction in his voice.

 The priest anointed him, while Dain moved to the next man and the next. By the end of the ceremony, 
Dain felt numb from repeating the same words over and over. Only four knights had withdrawn, refusing 
to serve. They were new men, strangers, and of the lower ranks. The rest, however, now stood proud 
and erect as Dain came striding back up the line. When he started to climb steps, they swung their 
swords aloft and shouted his name.

 Faldain! Faldain of Thirst!

 He turned to face them, pride and gratitude tangled in his throat, and returned the salute. Then he 
resumed his seat while the squires came, one by one, up the steps to kneel before him and make their 
pledges. After the squires came the servants, beginning with Julth Rondel and continuing down to the 
lowest scullions. Many sounded nervous or even frightened as they spoke their pledges. One woman 
covered her face with her hands lest he gaze into her eyes and enspell her. Two of the maids broke into 
tears, but the rest kept their composure.

 Dain smiled at each servant who dared meet his gaze. He spoke to them with kind gentleness, taking 
care to do or say nothing to alarm them.

 At last it was all done. The villagers gawked from afar at their new master. The serfs had no pledge to 
make; they were bound from one lord to another with no choice in the matter. A brief benediction was 
spoken by the priest, and the herald announced Dains invitation that all help themselves to the cider 
barrels in celebration.

 Feeling as though a heavy weight had come off his shoulders, Dain left his chair and found himself 
surrounded by his men, all talking at once and grinning like fools.

 Lord Renald came over with a cool smile on his lips, but he offered Dain his hand in friendship. Well 
done. You have won their loyalty, and I hope Lunt and Thirst will continue to share the accord they have 
known in times past.

 Its my hope as well, Dain replied. And now for my end of our agreement. You will find Prince 
Gavril less than a

 Suddenly distant trumpets sounded and a shout rose from the lone lookout on the walls. Muttering 
curses, the sentry knights bolted for the ramparts. 


 Lord Renald gripped his sword hilt. Its trolks. Morde a day, but I shouldnt have left 
A wide-eyed page came running up to Dain. Lord grace, he said, garbling Dains titles,  tis Prince 
Gavril coming to the gates. 
Astonished, Dain stared at the child. He couldnt help but think how close the ceremony had come to 
being interrupted by Gavrils arrival. 
Tell me swiftly, he said to the page. Does the whole company come with his highness, or rides he 
alone? 
Its everyone! the page replied. Such a large number of wagons, and the church soldiers are 

 Lord Renald gripped his sword hilt. Its trolks. Morde a day, but I shouldnt have left 
A wide-eyed page came running up to Dain. Lord grace, he said, garbling Dains titles,  tis Prince 
Gavril coming to the gates. 
Astonished, Dain stared at the child. He couldnt help but think how close the ceremony had come to 
being interrupted by Gavrils arrival. 
Tell me swiftly, he said to the page. Does the whole company come with his highness, or rides he 
alone? 
Its everyone! the page replied. Such a large number of wagons, and the church soldiers are 

 Dain and Lord Renald exchanged startled looks.

 Alive? Dain asked.

 Nay, my lord grace, the little boy replied with excitement. Their heads are cut off, and are swinging 
in a sack beside them. I saw

 The trumpets sounded again, and two men in white surcoats came riding into the courtyard. The 
crowd parted, and Dain walked down the steps to meet them.

 As he drew near, he saw it was Lord Barthomew and Sir Wiltem. The commander was glancing 
around at the crowd and signs of panoply with narrowed eyes. When he saw Dain, he stiffened in his 
saddle.

 Lord Faldain, Lord Barthomew said with a sneer, I am to convey to you compliments of his 
highness. Prince Gavril and his party seek the hospitality of Thirst Hold. 
The formal request was worded with correct courtesy, but the tone that delivered it held contempt and 
mockery. 
Behind Dain, Sir Terent growled in his throat like an old dog, and Sir Polquin turned red over the 
affront.

 Ignoring Lord Barthomews insulting tone, Dain felt relief that Gavril was finally showing some 
common sense. Bid his highness and companions welcome, Dain replied formally. Report to Sir 
Bosquecel for instructions in how your knights will be billeted here.

 After Lord Barthomew had bowed and ridden off, looking surly, Dain turned and issued orders to the 
steward.

 Lady Pheresa must not be stared at by the servants, he said sternly. Above all, we must respect her 
privacy. Give her an excellent chamber, one that is easily kept warm. Let there be chairs and cushions to 
soften the furnishings. Damne, I wish wed known sooner to prepare for her.

 A few minutes thereafter, Gavril came riding into the courtyard on his black stallion, his banners flying 
and his entourage in tow. His pack of dogs barked and milled around the horses in excitement. Today he 
wore his golden breastplate, polished to a blinding sheen. His dark blue cloak flowed from his shoulders 
to hang in heavy folds over the hindquarters of his pranc-ing mount. The sunlight glinted on his blond hair, 
and his vivid blue eyes were glittering with anger as he saw the gathering of knights in their finery.

 Dismounting onto a tiny velvet stool that his page hurried to place beneath his stirrup, Gavril ignored 
the crowd staring at him and started up the steps, Lord Kress at his heels.

 Dain met Gavril halfway. With his brows knotted in acute dislike, the prince looked Dain up and 
down.

 So you would wear a crown now, he said scornfully, referring to the circlet on Dains brow.

 This is no crown, Dain replied. By Nether custom, the circlet is worn as a badge of royalty, just as 
you wear your bracelet.

 Gavrils cheeks flushed at the comparison, but he made no further protest. I thought you intended to 
keep your identity discreet.

 My intentions have changed.

 Clearly. Well, it seems I have interrupted your ceremony. What a pity. I would urge you to continue, 
but alas, seeing Lady Pheresa settled will occupy us both.

 Dain smiled, keeping his voice as silky as Gavrils. Your highness is kind, but there is no interruption. 
My oath service has been completed, and all is well. 


 Gavrils smile dropped from his face, to be replaced by a thunderous scowl. Impossible! You are too 
hasty. The oath service cannot possibly have been conducted this quickly.

 Gavrils smile dropped from his face, to be replaced by a thunderous scowl. Impossible! You are too 
hasty. The oath service cannot possibly have been conducted this quickly.

 But improperly. There are no witnesses. At least four chevards must be present

 My pardon for correcting your highness, Lord Renald said quietly, stepping forward, but according 

to law a minimum of only one chevard is needed for witnessing. 
Gavrils cheeks were ablaze. He glared at Lord Renald, then shifted his gaze back to Dain. How 
convenient to find Lunt here as well. You have been busy indeed this day. 
Bowing, Dain kept silent. He was eager to get away from the prince and devote his attention to 
Pheresa. 
Your highness, Lord Renald was saying, I bear messages from your father the king, which I am to 

speak to you without delay.

 Gavril took a step back. Not now.

 But, your highness

 Not now! Gavril turned away from Lord Renald and stared at Dain. I must speak to you in 
private. Dain frowned. Perhaps after

 At once! It cannot be delayed.

 Yes, very well, Dain said.

 By this time, Noncire and his attendant priests were riding into the courtyard, followed by a stream of 
church soldiers. The latter should have remained in the stableyard, but no one appeared to be directing 
them properly. Sir Bosquecel was busy ordering Thirst knights to disperse into the outermost bailey. The 
result was milling confusion, added to by the crowd of gawking villagers.

 It was almost impossible to hear or speak over the general din. With a glance at the exasperated Lord 
Renald, Dain led the way inside. He and Gavril were followed by their protectors, and Lord Renald with 
his man brought up the rear.

 Halfway up the stairs, Gavril paused and gave Lord Renald a cold look indeed. Forgive me, sir, but 
why do you accompany us? he inquired.

 Lord Renalds face turned pink, but he met Gavrils gaze without flinching. I must give your highness 
the kings orders.

 And I told you I would not hear that message now.

 Then I shall wait outside Faldains wardroom until it pleases your highness to receive me.

 Gavrils face grew stony. When I am ready to receive you, I shall send for you. At present you are 
dismissed.

 Lord Renalds flush darkened to crimson. Although his eyes were blazing, he kept his temper at having 
been treated like a mere lackey. He bowed, then turned on his heel and went back downstairs without 
another word.

 Gavril sighed. These provincial lords are so tiresome. Dain felt angry on Renalds behalf. Although 
he knew it was probably best to hold his tongue, he could not help but say,

 Your highness should not chastise him for trying to obey his orders.

 Gavril, however, was gazing about the corridor they now walked along, and appeared not to be 
listening. I see youve adopted the kingly privilege of two protectors for yourself. Is it not best to see 
yourself crowned first?

 Dain met Gavrils eyes. They were bright and vivid, even here in the shadowy corridor. There was an 
air of suppressed excitement about him, a fevered impatience, that made Dain uneasy.

 Its just, Gavril went on, that I feel myself outnumbered.

 As Dain unlocked the wardroom door, he reminded himself to post a guard here as long as Gavrils 
men were running loose about the place. He glanced at Sir Terent, who had held up well during the 
ceremony, but now looked paler than he should have.

 Go and rest, Dain said.

 Sir Terent frowned immediately. Im fine, sire. Fit as can be.

 I shall wish you to stand duty with me later, Dain said. Rest now, and let Sir Polquin serve in your 


place.

place.

 Dain pushed open the door to the wardroom, wincing as it creaked rustily. Light and fresh air poured 
in through the open window.

 Gavril looked around at the cluttered space, and sneered. It appears to be a shrine to Lord Odfrey.

 There hasnt been time to put things in new order, Dain said, then refused to defend himself further. 
Please be seated. Ill send a servant to fetch your highness some wine, if

 Wine? Gavril interrupted with a grin. Not that sour vinegar Thirst is so famous for?

 Indeed not, Dain said, grinning back. For an instant he and Gavril were in perfect accord. Rest 
assured, there will be changes made at Thirst.

 Clearly you are already busy. Gavril glanced at Lord Kress. Protector, would you step outside?

 Kress bowed at once, but hesitated, then looked at Sir Polquin, who bristled instantly.

 Our conversation must be completely private, Gavril said to Dain in appeal. You understand.

 Dain frowned, suspecting that Gavril had some question about Tanengard he wanted no one to 
overhear. Dain thought it best to humor him, lest the prince change his mind about staying and drag 
Pheresa back into the cold wilderness once again.

 If you please, Sir Polquin, Dain said. Perhaps you and Lord Kress would care to stroll in the 
corridor.

 Sir Polquin looked like hed eaten sour grapes. He scowled and hesitated, obviously reluctant to 
leave, but with more meekness than Dain expected he walked out with Kress, slamming the door behind 
them.

 Now, Gavril said as though in relief, we can speak plainly.

 What about?

 This foreign physician of yours, Gavril said.

 Dain blinked. The topic of Sulein surely did not merit such privacy. Is he not able to sustain his place 
among the guardians?

 He seems to be doing adequately. My concern lies with his trustworthiness. Will he harm her?

 No.

 Gavril nodded and began to pace back and forth. In all frankness, I dislike his presence. The 
guardians sustain her life with a weaving of faith, but Sulein believes not in Writ. He is using power of a 
different sort. It could taint the entire proceedings. I think Noncire should take his place.

 Noncire! Dain said in amazement.

 Gavrils gaze, as cold and alert as a lyngs, met his. You object?

 Nay, I do not object, Dain said, thinking rapidly. But but I did not know him capable

 He is a cardinal, Dain. Of course hes capable!

 Stung, Dain said, Very well. But at his age, is he strong enough?

 I know not, Gavril admitted with a sigh. Of late his judgment seems to be faltering. He and I 
disagree more and more.

 Better leave Sulein in place, Dain said, and save the cardinal in case another guardian falls.

 Aye, your advice is sound, Gavril agreed.

 This strange conversation made Dain uneasy and suspicious. And now, your highness, what is it you 
really want to discuss with me? Tanengard?

 Gavril stopped pacing and whirled around. Do not mock me! Thod curse your bones, I would have it 
still if not for you.

 The king forbade you its use, Dain said coldly. Not I.

 You Gavril stopped and appeared to struggle with himself. Nay, there is another matter I would 
discuss with you.

 Then discuss it, Dain said impatiently. I have much to do.

 This Sulein, Gavril said. Can he peer into the minds of men?

 No, Dain replied without thinking. Why?

 What is it called, this looking that the pagans do? 


 Dain felt astonishment. To his knowledge, Gavril had never before shown any curiosity about the 
special abilities belonging to some eldin and Netheran priests. Its called parting the veils of seeing, 
but

 Dain felt astonishment. To his knowledge, Gavril had never before shown any curiosity about the 
special abilities belonging to some eldin and Netheran priests. Its called parting the veils of seeing, 
but

 I wish I could see into the future, Gavril said with a sigh. In my nightly prayers, I ask Tomias for his 
benevolence on my plans, but prayers are not always answered. Did you know that I used to believe 
with all my heart and soul that I would find ?

 Dains frown deepened. He eyed the door. I know that you wanted to find it while you were here as 
a foster.

 No one searched harder than did I, Gavril said sadly. No one prayed for the honor of its discovery 
more than I. And all the time, you were here with me. You, who have known since infancy where to find 
it.

 Alarm spread through Dain. He moved around the end of the desk, heading for the door, but Gavril 
crashed into him and hit him hard across his temple with the hilt of his poniard.

 Dains head rang. He saw the world tilt, fade, and tilt again. Blinking, he came to and found himself 
down on one knee, rigid with the determination not to faint. His head throbbed like a drumbeat.

 Gavril stood over him, twisting his fingers into the cloth at Dains shoulder. How you must have 
laughed at me this past year, watching me struggle with my faith and effort, while you knew the secret all 
the time.

 The room spun again, making Dain feel dizzy and sick. He squinted, desperate to make Gavril 
understand. No, he struggled to say. His voice croaked like a strangers. Dont know.

 You told my father you could find it. You pledged your word of honor to bring its cure to Pheresa.

 Eldin can cure her, Dain said, wincing as Gavrils grip tightened on his shoulder, twisting a fold of the 
cloth across his windpipe. He coughed for air and reached for his dagger, but it was gone from his belt. 
Chalice

 Gavril rapped his skull again with the hilt of the poniard, and Dain dipped into a place of darkness, 
only to be shaken out of it by Gavril. Pain throbbed in his head. He smelled blood and could feel it 
streaking down the side of his face.

 In a dim corner of his scattered wits, he felt anger at himself for having been caught off guard like this. 
He shouldnt have trusted Gavril for an instant.

 Listen to me! Gavril was saying, shaking him again. I will give you one chance. Tell me where is 
hidden. Show me where is hidden, and I will not deliver you into Muncels hands.

 Dain blinked slowly, feeling his brain turning like thick treacle. Muncel? he echoed.

 A message from Nether reached me this morning, Gavril said impatiently. I have been asked by a 

man named Pernal to hand you over as an unlawful pretender to Nethers throne. Your secret is out, 
Dain. They know you are here and not in Savroix. 
Uh 
This is a chance for Mandria to create new ties of friendship with Nether, to strengthen an old 

alliance.

 Dont

 Cardinal Pernal offers much for you on King Muncels behalf! Do you want to hear the terms?

 Dain closed his eyes for a moment, feeling gray and clammy. He knew he must not pass out. His only 
chance was to stay conscious.

 How naive you are, Gavril said with something close to pity in his voice. No doubt you thought you 
could just ride across the border, and the Netherans would receive you with joyous welcome. Hah! This 


is what comes of a weak mind and small education. You are no king. You have no right to swagger 
about with a circlet of gold on your head He ripped the ornament from Dains brow and flung it 
across the room. You have no right to appoint two protectors to guard you. Your folly and conceit are 
as unfounded as they are pathetic. Youre naught but a pretender, Dain! A pretender!

is what comes of a weak mind and small education. You are no king. You have no right to swagger 
about with a circlet of gold on your head He ripped the ornament from Dains brow and flung it 
across the room. You have no right to appoint two protectors to guard you. Your folly and conceit are 
as unfounded as they are pathetic. Youre naught but a pretender, Dain! A pretender!

 A potion which will cure Pheresa instantly.

 Doesnt exist

 You want me to believe so, Gavril said with a harsh laugh. But you are as full of lies and trickery as 
all your kind. Do you not think I know what will happen if you find the eld-folk? You will betray me, 
enspell me, and hold me hostage for ransom.

 Dain frowned, wondering if he was dreaming this. How had Gavril thought up such nonsense? 
Except... except that such an act of foul betrayal was perhaps exactly what Gavril himself would commit 
in Dains place.

 Gavril, he said, fighting off another bout of dizziness, listen to me. I

 No, you listen! I am offered five times your weight in gold, plus the cure for Pheresa, plus a suit of 
Netheran-forged armor, plus a new treaty granting many concessions to Mandria, plus the altar cloth 
where once rested, if I will hand you over intact.

 Dain swallowed a groan. He longed to sink to the floor, but Gavrils grip did not loosen.

 Well? What say you to such generosity? Do you think you are worth that much?

 A fine payment, Dain said with an effort. He was sweating, but he still felt cold. Worth a prince.

 Yes, indeed.

 If I am really a pretender, would they offer so much?

 Gavril clamped his hand atop Dains skull, and Dain nearly passed out. Hold your tongue, trickster! I 
have something else in mind. Dain! Hear me! He gave Dain another shake to bring him back. As 
appealing as these offers are, I will ignore them. I will set you free if you will take me straight to . Right 
now. This very day.

 Youyou would leave Pheresa here? Dain asked, wincing as the throbbing in his head grew worse. 
To die?

 Nay, fool! You said would cure her. And so it will when I bring it back from where your father 
concealed it. Why should she suffer more, being dragged about in a wagon, when we can bring the cure 
to her?

 Dain frowned, and Gavril shook him again. Come! Let us ride forth this very afternoon. I give you this 
chance to decide; otherwise, we depart tomorrow with you in chains. 
Dain summoned all his strength to send Gavril a look of scorn. You will never give me to the 
Netherans as long as you think I know where to find . Threaten all you like, but you wont do it.

 Gavril bared his teeth. His blue eyes shone with triumph. Youre forgetting something. Because I am a 
fair man, I have given you a chance to spare your life. Help me, and Ill set you free. Oppose me, and Ill 
let Noncire open your mind for the secrets it contains. I am told it is a procedure rarely done, for it brings 
terrible pain to the victim. Afterwards, you will be quite mad.

 While Dain looked up at him in horror, Gavril flung back his golden head and laughed.

 The Netherans dont care if youre mad or sane, he said, still chuckling. I will know where to find , 
and I can still deliver youpoor wretch that youll beto collect my reward in Grov.

 Dain knelt there, desperately struggling to pull his wits together. Sir Polquin! he shouted, although the 
effort made his head ring. Sir Polquin, come to me!

 Cursing, Gavril gave him a shove that toppled him over. The door swung open. Expecting Sir Polquin 
to come charging inside to his rescue, Dain felt his heart lift with relief.

 But as the door opened, he saw two figures struggling on the threshold. Dain tried to get to his feet but 
failed, and at that moment Sir Polquin cried out and sagged in Lord Kresss arms.

 Kress, out of breath, his face a grim mask, manhandled Sir Polquin inside the wardroom and shoved 
him to the floor.

 Sir Polquin hit on his side with a thud, his back to Dain, and lay there unmoving and far too still. Dain 


picked himself up, swaying unsteadily on his hands and knees, and crawled to him. But he knew the truth 

picked himself up, swaying unsteadily on his hands and knees, and crawled to him. But he knew the truth 

 No, he whispered in anguish. No!

 Dain rolled Sir Polquin onto his back, then stared down into his sightless eyes. Lord Kresss dagger 
still protruded from Sir Polquins heart. As Dain stared in horror, Kress bent down, bracing his foot on 
Sir Polquins ribs, and pulled the dagger out.

 Good work, Gavril said.

 And this one gave your highness no trouble? Kress asked, cleaning his blade matter-of-factly.

 Gavril laughed. Nay. He was easily tricked. Go outside and keep watch. Ill join you in a moment.

 Kress obeyed, closing the door behind him.

 Dain knelt there, too frozen with grief to act. Sir Polquin, so stern, so brusque, so gruff-spoken, had 
taught Dain his very first lessons in swordplay. A relentless taskmaster who demanded perfection, he had 
run Dain and the other fosters through endless practice drills. Quick to criticize, slow to praise, Sir 
Polquin had never treated Dain as less than the others because of his mixed blood. Now, grief swelled in 
Dains heart. He could not believe he had lost this man. Sir Polquins unfriendliness was surface only; 
inside, his heart had been true and loyal. Protec-tor for less than one day, Dain thought, bowing his head 
as his eyes burned and stung.

 Mandrians slaying Mandrians, Dain said hoarsely. What vile infamy is this?

 Get up, if you can, Gavril said impatiently. Do not keep me waiting for your answer.

 Was this necessary? Dain asked. Killing Polquin?

 You called him to you, Gavril said without mercy. You sounded the alarm that brought his death. If 
you want to blame anyone, blame yourself.

 Dain felt the guilt twist inside him like the plunge of a knife. But it had been Kresss hand that had done 
this black deed, not his. He glared at Gavril, hating him, and felt a terrible anger burn through his veins. 
He reached out, gripped the leg of a chair, and shoved it into Gavril with all his might.

 The prince grunted with pain and surprise, and went staggering to one side. Desperate to make an end 
of him before Lord Kress came back in, Dain tried to tackle him by his ankles, but Gavril dodged him.

 With a curse, Dain turned to pull Sir Polquins dagger from his belt, but his body couldnt obey him 
fast enough. He gripped the hilt, but he felt as though he were trapped in deep mud. His coordination, his 
balance, his strength had all gone elsewhere.

 Gavril kicked him in the ribs, knocking him flat and sending him skidding across the floor. I see I have 
your answer, he said. Very well! You were always a fool, Dain. I offered you mercy, but now you are 
finished.

 As he spoke, he hit Dain again with his poniard. The weighted hilt felt like a hammer smashing into 
Dains browbone. His bones seemed to melt, and he fell. He tried to move, but his limbs would not obey 
him. Instead, he felt himself sinking into darkness.

 Gavrils voice, mocking and merciless, followed him down: I shall send Noncire to you as soon as we 
have Thirst subdued and in our power. You fool! You have only yourself to blame for your destruction.

 There was no answer Dain could make. The darkness swallowed him then, and would not give him 
up.

 The sound of voices arguing above him brought Dain back to consciousness. He came swimming up 
through the darkness reluctantly, feeling the headache still pounding in his skull.

 He felt himself lifted onto a hard surface. The back of his head thumping against it jolted him to full 
awareness. He opened his eyes, and was instantly dazzled by golden light that made him squint.

 Hurry, a voice said sharply. He awakes. Ropes were tied to Dains arms and legs, and he was 
lashed in place before he could make more than a token struggle. As yet he could see nothing more than 
silhouettes against the bright candlelight. He frowned, trying to figure out where he was and how hed 
gotten here. If only his head would stop hurting.

 Sulein? he said thickly. His mouth was so dry he spoke in a rasp. Sir Terent?

 Quick, one of the men said, and a cloth was draped across Dains face.

 The folds were heavy enough to make him feel smothered. He jerked his head but could not shake it 


off. He heard the rasp of a strikebox and smelled the sharp acrid scent of flame. Moments later, the 
cloying stench of incense coiled through the air. Trying not to breathe it, Dain grimaced beneath the cloth. 
A knock sounded on the door, and when it was opened Dain heard the rustle of thick robes and the 
whisper of soft leather shoes. He recognized the slow ponderous gait and inhaled a familiar scent of 
pomade.

off. He heard the rasp of a strikebox and smelled the sharp acrid scent of flame. Moments later, the 
cloying stench of incense coiled through the air. Trying not to breathe it, Dain grimaced beneath the cloth. 
A knock sounded on the door, and when it was opened Dain heard the rustle of thick robes and the 
whisper of soft leather shoes. He recognized the slow ponderous gait and inhaled a familiar scent of 
pomade.

 Good, Noncire replied. Why is his face covered?

 Er, toto keep his gaze from enspelling us, your eminence.

 Foolish superstitions, Noncire said. Take it off. The cloth was whisked away from Dains face. He 
squinted against the dazzle of light, but this time his eyes adjusted quickly and he saw that he was still in 
the wardroom. Candles blazed around him. In one comer a small iron brazier burned incense, sending 
forth thick crimson smoke.

 Shimmering in white silk robes, a yellow sash of office encircling his vast middle, the cardinal gazed 
down at Dain with his small, beady eyes before he held aloft his diamond-studded Circle, which winked 
and glittered in the candlelight.

 Angrily, Dain jerked against his bonds, but the ropes were new and tight. He felt neither slack nor give 
in them. 
Now, do not be tiresome, the cardinal said to him softly. Had you been cooperative with his 
highness, this rather tedious business would not be necessary. 
Feeling his heartbeat race, Dain glared at him. You cannot part the veils of seeing! You have no such 
powers to look into my mind!

 Noncires expression never changed. But of course I do. And if you submit, it will be over quickly, 
with less damage. He paused a moment, his eyes boring into Dains. If you resist, you will suffer 
terribly.

 Dain frowned at him, seeking pity or compassion, and finding none.

  of Eternal Life must be found, Noncire said. It is a terrible sin to keep something so holy hidden 
away where its tremendous powers and benevolence are wasted.

 Sin? Dain echoed with a hollow laugh. And is there no sin in destroying my mind?

 Tell your secret and you will not be harmed.

 Dain heard the lie in Noncires voice. Its guardianship is my responsibility, Dain said. As it was my 
fathers before me, and his fathers before him.

 But youve been a poor guardian, Faldain of Nether, Noncire said softly. His plump hand, the pale 
pudgy fingers adorned with rings of his high rank and estate, stretched out and gripped the front of Dains 
surcoat. A cold, smothering force seemed to ripple forth from his touch, sinking through Dains clothing 
into his skin and the very marrow of his bones.

 Dain could not hold back his gasp of surprise. His eyes widened, and he stared very hard at Noncire, 
but he could detect nothing in the man, no hint of extraordinary powers at all.

 Your church training was a travesty. Noncire gestured with his free hand, and the assistant priests 
began to chant something that made Dain flinch. Every word in the chant was like a pinprick, then a nick, 
then a stab.

 Clearly, Noncire said, looming large over Dain, you understand almost nothing of Writ, or you 
would know that our priestly training is based on ancient principles indeed. We are taught those first, 
before we proceed to the ceremonies of holding mass and giving benedictions.

 But you are against magic, Dain said breathlessly, stiffening in his bonds as Noncires grasp 
tightened. Tomias forbade it. 
Noncire chuckled. How refreshing, to hear a pagan such as yourself call on the Prophet for aid. This 
is not magic, Faldain. It is something far older.

 He pressed his palm across Dains nose and mouth, and his thick fingers were like iron, digging into 
Dains flesh. The clammy sense of smothering engulfed Dain, filling him with panic, for he could not 
breathe. Only vaguely did he realize that he was jerking against his bindings, jerking so hard the ropes 
sawed at his wrists. But his struggles began to ebb, for his body seemed to be freezing, growing turgid, 


inert, and unresponsive. Such a terrible coldness flowed from Noncires hands. It filled Dain, submerged 
him, slowed his heartbeat to a mere thread.

inert, and unresponsive. Such a terrible coldness flowed from Noncires hands. It filled Dain, submerged 
him, slowed his heartbeat to a mere thread.

 Noncire closed his eyes, and the coldness in Dain increased, hurting now. Dain felt something clawing 
at his mind, trying to force its way in.

 With all his strength, Dain struggled for breath to swell his song. He sang of Jorbs forge, of the roar of 
flames beneath the bellows, of the sere, crackling heat dancing in the air above the firepit, of the glowing 
orange metal, half-molten and sparking beneath the skilled tap of Jorbs hammer. And at last he felt the 
coldness thawing in him and believed, with a spurt of relief, that he was winning.

 Then new pain spiked through his head, and Dains song faltered. 

! said a voice inside his head. ! Where is it?

 Memory came to Dain of the last time hed seen the sacred vessel. He was high above the ground, 
perched on a beast that breathed fire and ashes. His father was nearby and they were surrounded by a 
crowd of people. There was an altar. A man with a cruel face wore a crown. Another man in pale robes 
held aloft. How white it was. How brightly it shone, casting a clear pure light of its own.

 When the man holding it aloft shouted words of anger and strife, burned him so much he dropped it, 
dropped the sacred Chalice the way Dain dropped his cup at nursery suppers. And then his father 
started shouting words of power. Flames shot forth from the end of a mighty sword, and all the bad men 
fled.

 Fire! Dain sang now, resisting Noncire. Fire most holy. Fire of ash and wood. Fire of power. Fire 
of sky. Fire of earth and mountain. Burn away the impurities. Burn away the dross.

 Noncire spoke and his grip tightened, but the cold was still thawing. Dain could breathe again, and the 
more air that filled his lungs, the louder he sang. Until... he felt something stir inside him, something he had 
never felt before. It was similar to what he felt when hed wielded Truthseeker or Tanengard, and yet far 
different.

 Tiny little flames sprang up along the ropes binding Dains arms. In seconds, the ropes were burned 
through, and Dain yanked his arms free. He knocked Noncire away from him, sending the obese cardinal 
staggering across the wardroom. His assistants scattered with cries of alarm, forgetting their chant 
entirely. The spell collapsed.

 Sitting up, Dain tugged at the ropes still holding his legs.

 Guards! one of the assistants shouted.

 Dain swore. He yanked the last knot free, then flung himself off the desk just as the door crashed 
open. A church knight, clad in mail and holding a sword, loomed in the doorway.

 Dain kicked the incense brazier over in the guards path.

 Coals spilled out across the mans feet, making him swear and jump back. Crimson smoke gusted up, 
filling the room.

 Noncires fat face was blotched with anger, and his black eyes narrowed to mere slits. Put that 
sword away, he said harshly to the guard. Seize him and hold him fast.

 Dain retreated a step. The wardroom was small, crowded with too many people and the heavy 
furniture. He backed toward the cold fireplace, remembering the secret passage concealed behind it that 
Lord Odfrey had once shown him.

 But there was no chance to reach it. The church knight charged him, and although Dain dodged, he 
knew he had no real hope of eluding capture. Not when one of the assistant priests gripped him by the 
back of his tunic and held him just long enough for the knight to pounce.

 Dain sent the assistant reeling back with a little yelp of pain. But then the knight reached him and put 
his dagger to Dains throat.

 Dain froze, breathing hard.

 Good, Noncire said. Hold him fast.

 The guard seized Dains right arm and twisted it hard behind his back. He tried to resist, but the 


dagger point pressed harder, and Dain felt blood trickle down his throat.

dagger point pressed harder, and Dain felt blood trickle down his throat.

 Noncire came to him with malevolence glittering in his tiny black eyes. Your eld magic has availed 
you little, he said. Now your defiance will cost you dearly. His gaze flicked to the guard. Hold him.

 Before Dain could react, pain skewered his skull with such violence and force he thought it had been 
split open. There was no fighting this time, no resisting. The brutal, destructive agony seemed to have no 
end until at last... at long last... Noncire stepped back with a tiny smirk of satisfaction.

 Release him, the cardinal said.

 The guard obeyed, and Dain swayed on his feet a moment, wide-eyed and shaken, before he fainted 
into a black aftermath.

 The sound of knocking brought him back. He lay in darkness, hardly breathing, his eyes staring at the 
shadows. After a while, the door creaked open and someone entered.

 Dain?

 Torchlight cast a glow through the room that drove back the shadows. Dain squinted, retreating inside 
himself as the footsteps came closer.

 What has happened in here? Thum said in wonder. It looks like everything has been.. . Dain! Great 
Thod above, Dain!

 Thum knelt beside him, gripped his shoulders, and rolled him over.

 Dain winced and turned his face away from the light. It hurt. Sound hurt. Even darkness and silence 
hurt.

 Thum touched his face, and Dain flinched. Im sorry, Thum said, snatching his hand away. Can you 
hear me? Can you speak? Morde a day, whats bashed your head? Can you answer me? Dain? Sire? 
Whats happened to you? Ive been searching everywhere.

 Dain wished he could just lie there forever. He wished he could burrow deep into the earth and never 
come out. He felt sick and gray and clammy. It was impossible to speak, yet somehow he had to know, 
had to find the strength to ask questions.

 You ... well? His voice was a croak he couldnt recognize as his own.

 Of course I am. How can you think of me when you are in this state? Let me call the servants

 No! The effort of making that protest exhausted Dain. He reached out blindly, groping until Thum 
gripped his hand. Dain squeezed his fingers weakly. No one, he whispered.

 But whats happened? I thought you were visiting Lady Pheresa all this time, yet when I went to fetch 
you for supper you were not with her. Her serving woman said you never came.

 Dain closed his eyes on a laugh he lacked the strength to utter. How normal it all sounded. He felt as 
though he was lying in a place thousands of leagues away.

 Still here, he murmured. Gavril. Not taken her away.

 Why should his highness go? Thum asked in surprise. He just came this afternoon. When you did 
not come to your chamber to change for the feast, I decided to look for you. I didnt want you to miss 
the banqueting or the toasts. Already the men are calling for their new chevard. Gavril is downstairs in his 
finery and has ordered his musicians to play merry tunes for everyones enjoyment.

 Still here.

 Aye, of course hes here. Ill tell you, he looked sour for a while about the oath service, but tonight 
his mood has greatly improved.

 Still here, Dain repeated again, unable to believe it.

 I must fetch help for you, Thum said worriedly. Or has Sir Polquin gone for it?

 Dain laughed, a low, gutless chuckle that he could not stop until Thum gave him a little shake.

 In Thods name, sire, youre in a bad way. Can you sit up?

 Too late did Dain try to protest. As soon as Thum sat him up, he hunched over and was violently sick. 
Sinking back, he felt exhausted and wrenched. A cold sweat covered him, and he couldnt seem to 
collect his thoughts, no matter how much he tried. There was something he needed to do, something he 
kept forgetting as quickly as he thought of it.

 / am alive, he thought in wonder. / am not insane, and I am alive. 


 I must get you to your chamber, Thum said. 
No, Dain whispered, trying again to think of what he needed to do. Let me bide here a moment 
longer. 
They sat in silence a little while, then Thum asked, Where is Sir Polquin? Has he gone to get help for 
you? Why isnt he here? Who attacked you, Dain? What villainy has been done? 
Dains anger returned, and, though splintered and damaged, it revived him a little. Kress, he finally 
managed to say. 
Lord Kress? Did he strike you on Gavrils orders? I hope Sir Polquin has treated him as he 
deserves! 
Sighing, Dain gave up the attempt to explain. Perhaps later, after he remembered what he had to do, 

 I must get you to your chamber, Thum said. 
No, Dain whispered, trying again to think of what he needed to do. Let me bide here a moment 
longer. 
They sat in silence a little while, then Thum asked, Where is Sir Polquin? Has he gone to get help for 
you? Why isnt he here? Who attacked you, Dain? What villainy has been done? 
Dains anger returned, and, though splintered and damaged, it revived him a little. Kress, he finally 
managed to say. 
Lord Kress? Did he strike you on Gavrils orders? I hope Sir Polquin has treated him as he 
deserves! 
Sighing, Dain gave up the attempt to explain. Perhaps later, after he remembered what he had to do, 

 Sir Terent, he whispered in dread. Safe?

 Of course hes safe. The arrow did not go deep into his shoulder. Do you want me to fetch him to 
you?

 Dain gripped Thums sleeve in alarm. Dont go.

 Thum patted his shoulder. No, of course I wont go. You neednt worry.

 Must rest, Dain said.

 Of course. When you think you can stand, well go to your chamber.

 Must remember. Must think.

 Not now, Thum told him. I am going to lay you down again and call a servant

 Call no one! Dain snapped, then sagged over and retched again. Nothing came up this time but 
misery.

 Your head must be pounding like a drum, Thum said in sympathy. I remember hitting mine once 
when I was little and fell out of a tree. I was sick too, and dizzy. I had to lie abed all day until I felt myself 
again. Gods! How dare these scoundrels attack you in your own wardroom. Their boldness is an insult 
that must be repaid in like kind!

 Dain, however, did not answer Thum, for he suddenly heard a low, humming melody that he vaguely 
recognized. It was a song, yet not a song. Although low and quiet, it seemed very clear.

 Dain

 Hush! he said. Listen.

 To what? I hear nothing.

 But Dain heard it clearly, for the humming was louder now. And in his mind called a familiar, resonant 

voice: Come to Truthseeker!  
He drew in his breath sharply. That was what he was supposed to remember. Truthseeker was in this 
room. It knew somehow that he intended to carry it... carry it... to where? 
Can you stand now? Thum asked. Your skin feels very cold. You have lain too long in this 
unheated room. Come, let me help you up. 
Dain shut his eyes, saying nothing. Thum rose to his feet and pulled Dain upright with a grunt, his arm 

tight and steady around Dains ribs.

 All right? he asked. You arent feeling sick again, are you?

 The room spun for a moment. Dain felt fresh sweat break out across his body. With Thums help he 
took a single, feeble step, nearly fell, and managed another.

 The torchlight glinted on something lying in the corner. It was Dains circlet of gold, lying where Gavril 
had flung it. In silence he pointed, and Thum bent to pick it up for him.

 Villains! Thum said in a furious, strangled voice. Hed gone suddenly pale behind his narrow beard, 
and his freckles stood out plainly. They who serve Gavril are cowards and knaves. To attack you like 
this! It isnt to be borne! Ill give the order and have them thrown out of the hold this very night.

 Dain lost interest in Thums outrage and turned instead toward the large wooden chest standing against 
the wall. Staggering and dizzy, he struggled toward it.

 Easy now, Thum said. Youre going the wrong way. The door lies in yon direction.

 But Dain would not be turned around. He reached the chest and sank to his knees despite Thums 


efforts to catch him.

efforts to catch him.

 Ignoring him, Dain struggled to lift the lid of the chest, found it too heavy, and nearly mashed his fingers 
before Thum raised it for him.

 Theres nothing in here, Thum said impatiently. Dain? Sire!

 Reluctantly Dain turned his head to look up at his friend. Have to, he said, and reached inside the 
chest.

 What are you looking for? Tell me and Ill get it for you.

 Without answering, Dain shifted through the chests contents, pawing aside a stack of vellum and 
leather books, a cloak so old the cloth was rotting, a purse of gold dreits, a pair of ladys gloves in finest 
silk yellowed with age, a worn dog collar, and a musty fur robe. Beneath all this lay a plain leather 
scabbard sheathing the magnificent sword made of god-steel.

 Peering over his shoulder, Thum sucked in an audible breath. Ah, yes. Id forgotten about this sword. 
Shall I lift it out for you?

 Nay.

 Fighting off another bout of dizziness, Dain gripped the weapon with both hands. The ancient metal, 
wrought in ways mysterious, resonated with power that made Dains hair stand on end. He shuddered 
involuntarily, feeling the contact with it even through the leather and wood scabbard.

 A surge of energy jolted through him, filling him with new strength until he no longer felt sick and dizzy. 
Some of the confusion fell from his mind. He remembered what Noncire had done to him, tearing into his 
mind to find hidden secrets. He remembered that he had conjured in his mind a false location for . Only 
then had the dreadful attack ceased.

 Hed saved himself, but even so hed come far too close to destruction. Gripping Truthseeker now, he 
drew in several deep breaths and squared his shoulders. He hoped Gavril and Noncire sought so far and 
long in the wrong direction that they both rotted of futility.

 Dain shook off Thums helping hands and rose to his feet. Truthseeker hummed in his hands, its deep 
song for him alone.

 No dwarf swordmaker had crafted this weapon. It was far older, made from metal so hard no 
ordinary steel could prevail against it. The guard, studded with a row of glittering emeralds, was straight, 
not circular, in a style predating the long-ago establishment of the Church. The gold wire wrapping the 
long hilt gleamed richly in the candlelight. The blade itself was carved, Dain remembered, but he did not 
draw it now to look. Although hed used the weapon once, to fight and destroy a shapeshifter, he found 
himself wary and a bit afraid of Truth-seekers tremendous power.

 / know your hand, the sword said to him. Fear me not.

 Breathless, Dain gripped the hilt, and felt it twist in his hand as though fitting itself to his grasp. It almost 
hurt him to hold it, yet he hung on, his heart racing.

 To war, Truthseeker urged him.

 Its beautiful, Thum said, staring at it. I remember how you used it to kill the shapeshifter. We 
would all have died that night if not for you. His eyes met Dains and widened in wonder. Youre well 
again. Is itis it the swords doing?

 Aye, Dain replied, soaking in the power that Truthseeker shared with him.

 Is it magicked, like Tanengard?

 Dain shook his head, and saw no reason to keep Lord Odfreys secret now. Its made of god-steel.

 Thums mouth opened, but nothing came out. His hazel-green eyes were popping. To his credit, he 
didnt flee, although hed turned nearly as pale as Dain felt.

  Tis very old, Dain said when Thum remained silent. The dwarves search the ancient battlegrounds 
sometimes in hopes of finding god-steel. They cant work it, though. My old guardian Jorb told me no 
one has the knowledge of how to make such metal as this.

 What is it doing here? Thum whispered.

 You mean, how came Lord Odfrey to own such a weapon? Dain asked wryly. It has been handed 


down secretly from father to son for generations in his family. He was afraid to carry it, afraid the priests 

down secretly from father to son for generations in his family. He was afraid to carry it, afraid the priests 

 Thum made a strangled, involuntary noise of protest in his throat.

 Dain smiled wanly at him. No, he assured his friend. Nothing like that will happen to this blade. It 
has missed war for centuries. It has been locked away, hidden and feared, but it was made for battle and 
justice. I will take it back to both.

 At that moment footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the wardroom door. With them, came the 
sound of voices.

 Frowning, Thum turned in that direction. Blackguards, he said angrily. Come to finish the job, no 
doubt. Ill

 Dain shushed him quickly. He knew not why church soldiers were returning here, but he didnt want to 
learn the reason. He and Thum could not be found, and there was only one other way out.

 Swiftly he hurried over to the desk and yanked open the drawer where Lord Odfrey had kept a spare 
dagger. The weapon was still there. Gripping it and Truthseeker, Dain went to the fireplace and pressed 
the stone as Lord Odfrey had once shown him.

 A small, concealed door slid open in the wall, and a dark passageway yawned there, smelling musty 
and dank.

 Picking up his torch, Thum stared with his mouth open.

 The door rattled. I told you to keep this door locked, some-one outside said in annoyance. His 
eminence gave strict orders about it.

 Dain beckoned to Thum, and the squire followed him into the passageway like a rabbit bolting into its 
hole. Inside, Dain saw an iron lever draped with cobwebs. Swiftly he pulled it down, and the hidden door 
slid shut just as the wardroom door slammed open with a bang.

 Crowded together in the narrow space, with the torch held between them close enough to scorch their 
eyebrows, Dain and Thum listened in silence.

 Damne, hes gone! one of the men shouted.

 If youd locked the door instead of coming to me

 No one gave me a key.

 Their bickering continued, then faded away as the door slammed again.

 Dain realized he was holding his breath, and slowly eased it out. He met Thums gaze. I think theyre 
gone.

 Morde a day, but where does this passage go? Thum asked.

 I dont know. Out of the hold somewhere. Come.

 Thum gripped Dains arm to keep him from starting down the passageway. You dont mean to 
explore it, surely!

 Dain frowned. Were leaving this hold tonight, this very hour. I must get to Nether without delay.

 But, Dain, what about his highness? What about your attackers?

 Dain thought about Sir Polquin, whose death cried out for vengeance. I will rejoin with Gavril later, 
he said grimly. His villainy will not go unchecked forever. This, I do swear.

 But you must denounce him. Do it here, before your own men.

 I will not set Mandrians against Mandrians, Dain said grimly.

 Then

 Thum, I must get away, now, before they discover me gone. Gavril means to betray me to King 
Muncel for a price. I will not fall victim to his plan.

 Thum swore viciously. He is evil through and through. He has hated you from the very beginning and 
will see no good in you at all. But why attack you here at Thirst? Why not wait until we reached Grov to 
betray you? It makes no sense.

 Have you ever heard of faith with sight?

 Thum jerked back from him and drew the Circle hastily. Damne, to talk of that is forbidden by Writ!

 Cardinal Noncire did it to me, Dain said, even while Thum shook his head. I have no reason to lie. 
You saw my state before the sword revived me. 


 But why would he do such a thing?

 But why would he do such a thing?

 Great Thod, no!

 Dain stared at the wall, and felt a bitter surge of memory. My father warned me in a vision that I 
would be betrayed. I always felt sure it would be Gavril who did so, but I never thoughtI didnt expect 
this

 He broke off, unable to command his voice.

 After a moment of silence, Thum gripped his shoulder. They are foul to the core, Thum said angrily. 
Gavril has always rammed his piety down our throats, but he is the very worst blasphemer I have ever 
seen. I suppose he thinks that if he but gives the orders for his evil to be carried out, and takes no action 
himself, Thod will look the other way.

 There isnt much time, Dain said. Theyll be looking for me. Somehow weve got to warn Sir 
Terent and 
Theyre looking for you, but / am not suspect, Thum said. He pointed at the hidden door. Let me 

back through.

 Nay! Dain protested in alarm. Youre safe with

  Tis your safety we must worry about. Let me go back and announce that youve taken to your 
chamber with illness.

 No

 Dain, hear me, Thum said with urgency. Well need horses, and money. You cant walk to Nether, 
can you?

 Realizing Thum was right, Dain put aside his protests. Youre thinking more clearly than I am.

 And small wonder. Ill take those coins from that purse we saw in the chest. Aye, and clean out your 
strongbox as well. Theres food too

 No food. Dont risk it.

 Very well, but you must have your hauberk, your cloak, and your boots. Besides Sir Terent, who 
else do you want?

 Sir Alard, Dain said, thinking it over.

 No one else?

 We cant smuggle out the entire force without arousing suspicion. As tis, how will you get yourself, 
and horses besides, out of the hold without being stopped?

 Thum looked grim indeed. Unless Gavrils men have taken the hold by force, the sentries are your 
men, sire. I have only to say we act on your orders, and theyll let us out.

 Dain nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. Go then, and take care.

 Tis yourself who must take care, Thum said worriedly. Were there any other way, I would not 
leave you. What if your illness returns?

 It wont, Dain assured him, and then stilled his protests.

 Dain listened at the door a moment, then pulled up the lever. The panel slid open and, after handing 
Dain the torch, Thum stepped back into the wardroom.

 They stared at each other a moment, and Dain wondered if he would ever see his friend again.

 Go with Thod, Thum said.

 You as well.

 As Thum lifted his hand, Dain pushed down the lever. The hidden door slid between them, and Dain 
was left in the cramped passageway with only the weapons and the torch for company.

 He took a moment to thread the dagger and Truthseekers scabbard onto his belt. Truthseeker was so 
long its tip nearly dragged on the ground. As Dain picked up the torch again, a wave of dizziness passed 
through him.

 He leaned against the wall until the trembling aftershock passed, then wiped the sweat from his brow 
with an unsteady hand and regathered his strength with determination. Pushing himself forward, he 
followed the passageway to wherever it might lead him. 


 Part Two

 Part Two

 It was bitterly cold tonight, the wind cutting through her cloak and hauberk. Shivering, she flexed her 
fingers inside her fur-lined gloves in an effort to keep them from stiffening.

 Snow season was just beginning in southern Nether. Up north, where shed lately been, snow lay 
waist-deep over the ground and drifted high against trees and shepherds crofts. Travel in such climate 
was hard indeed, and Alexeika was grateful to have come down here near the border, to better weather 
and riper pluckings.

 On the other side of the wall, she heard muffled sounds as the small party of kings soldiers shed been 
tracking all afternoon rode into the stableyard and shouted for the landlord.

 Grinning to herself, Alexeika thought of the eight stalwart horses shortly to be stabled in this 
ramshackle struc-ture at her back. In two or three hours, when the inns customers had dined and 
bedded down for the night, she would slip over the wall and take her pick.

 Four stolen horses with bridles would be about all she could handle. They would fetch a good price 
from Costma and add to her growing stash of coin. She had almost enough money to pay for her lodging 
and food for the duration of the winter. Time was growing short before the deep cold came, but tonights 
work would bring her very near her goal.

 Born a princess and the daughter of Nethers most famous general, Alexeika now lived a dangerous 
and solitary life. Since her escape from the savage Grethori tribes up in the far mountains, shed avoided 
most folk. The price on her head was high enough to tempt one to betrayal. Twice shed asked Costma 
to let her join his bandits, but he refused, saying his men would not tolerate her presence in their 
company, not even if she wore chain mail and wielded a sword like a man. She would cause trouble, he 
said.

 And so shed become a horse thief, working alone and taking dangerous risks, selling her prizes to 
Costma and other bandit chieftains for the coinage that would see her through the winter. She had no 
home, no family, no one to give her charity. She had no choice but to provide for herself as best she 
could.

 Hunkered in the dark, sheltered by the crates with the stable wall at her back, Alexeika supped on 
hard cheese and a withered apple and ate snow to quench her thirst. The falling snowflakes filled the 
folds of her cloak and dampened her hair.

 Gradually the village grew quiet as folk shut themselves in for the night. The smell of woodsmoke 
drifted to her nostrils now and then. In the forest beyond the outskirts of the village, she heard the distant 
howling of wolves, and shivered involuntarily. The voices and bustle inside the inn, accompanied by the 
aromas of hot stew and dran tea, eventually faded. When all lay quiet, and even the wind died down to a 
light breeze that swept snow across a sleeping world, Alexeika rose to her feet and stamped them a while 
to bring back feeling in her toes.

 She shook the snow from her cloak and climbed the wall. After she paused on top to look around, she 
dropped lightly into a snowdrift in a corner near the fodder pile.

 No alarm sounded, and she drew in a deep breath of relief. Dusting snow off her clothing, she glanced 
around to get the lay of the place. The inn was a crumbling structure built of timber and daub in the shape 
of an L. The stables were hardly more than a rickety lean-to attached to the longest section of the inn. 
The walls extended from there, forming the whole into a rectangular-shaped compound. Double gates 
made of thin wood slats that creaked and rattled in the wind provided the only exit or entrance. Although 
theyd been shut for the night, they were hardly stout enough to provide any real protection in case of 
trouble; nor, Alexeika saw at a glance, were they locked. Only a wooden pole dropped across two 
brackets held them closed.

 Light shone across the yard from a large window, throwing an oblong spangle of gold upon the snow. 
The window gave anyone inside a clear view across the yard, and Alexeikas heart sank as she saw it. 


For a second she considered abandoning her plan, but she could hear the horses moving about inside the 
lean-to, tantalizingly close and too tempting to resist.

For a second she considered abandoning her plan, but she could hear the horses moving about inside the 
lean-to, tantalizingly close and too tempting to resist.

 Now, finning her resolve, she edged along the inside of the wall, staying well within shadow as she 
circumnavigated the yard. A dog lying curled up against the door barked sleepily at her. She gave it the 
rest of her cheese, rubbing its upright ears and making friends with it. When it saw she had no more food, 
the watchdog yawned and put its head down on its paws.

 Grinning to herself, Alexeika slipped up to the large window and peered cautiously inside. The light 
came from a dying fire on the hearth. It glowed in a mass of collapsed embers and ash. All the torches 
and lamps had been extinguished; she saw no sign of servants.

 The soldiers snored with their heads on the table, their hands still curled around their tankards. By the 
look of their uncleared trenchers, theyd drunk more than theyd eaten. Over in one corner near the fire, 
a communal heap of straw provided bed-ding for a small group of travelers huddled together for warmth 
under fur robes and blankets. Alexeika hardly spared them a glance. They would not have horses to 
steal. Hardly anyone could afford a mount these days except soldiers and the aristocrats in favor with the 
usurper.

 Silently Alexeika moved away from the window. If she kept quiet enough, no one indoors would 
rouse. Now she had to make sure no guard had been posted at the stables themselves. Keeping one 
hand on her dagger hilt, Alexeika made her way cautiously in that direction.

 Close up, the stables looked even more dilapidated than they had at a distance. The structure seemed 
to have been built of whatever scraps of timber and board the owner could scrounge together. Wattle 
panels divided the stalls, and Alexeika could hear the wind whistling through the gaps and chinks in the 
lean-to.

 The horseslarge shadows she could barely seeshifted about placidly in the dark. The wealth they 
represented made her shiver with anticipation.

 Swiftly she forced herself to concentrate. This was no time to be dreaming of the coins Costma would 
count into her palm. The hardest part of her task still lay ahead of her.

 The wind died down completely, and all the world fell into a hush. It grew even colder. Alexeikas feet 
and hands were numb, and her cloak might as well have been made of paper for all the warmth it 
provided tonight. Forcing herself to be patient, she waited and listened for a long while until she felt sure 
no guard was present, then eased inside the shelter and made soft clicking noises with her tongue to alert 
the horses to her presence. Stretching out her hand, she touched the hindquarters of one animal, and 
patted it in reassurance as she moved up alongside it.

 Easy there. Easy, she murmured, and the horse dipped its head and rumbled softly in its nostrils.

 In her fathers youth, knights of family and proud lineage, and not hired soldiers, formed the bulk of the 
kings army. Such knights had possessed war horses trained to submit to them alone. Nearly impossible 
to handle, fierce, and trained to strike down any stranger who put his hand on them, those chargers 
would have attacked her, whereas these horses were sleepy and docile. The kings agents bought them in 
herds from the Kla-dites, and they were assigned to the soldiers at random. These nags were light-boned 
coursers, underbred and thin-necked beneath shaggy winter coats, but they would fetch her money from 
the bandits. That was all she cared about.

 Not wanting to alarm the horses, Alexeika forced herself to take her time. Fumbling in the dark, she 
found the bridle of the nearest horse hanging on a peg and slipped it on the animal, then did the same with 
the horse next to it. The bemused pair turned about and came with her willingly.

 Drawing in a deep breath, Alexeika glanced once more at the window of the inn, wishing it did not 
overlook the yard, and told herself that now was the time for boldness.

 She led the horses across the yard in full sight, feeling her heartbeat pound nervously. Her senses were 
stretched tight. When one of the horses nudged her back, she nearly jumped.

 Alexeika slipped the pole out of the gate brackets, eased open a panel, which creaked loudly, and led 


the horses out into the road.

the horses out into the road.

 Gasping with alarm, Alexeika froze in her tracks and stood there staring. The snow had stopped 
falling, and overhead the clouds had parted enough to show stars and moonlight. She could see these 
travelers well enough, but from whence had they come? Shed heard no hoofbeats, no sounds of 
approach. It was as though they had dropped from the second world, yet they were not Nonkind. In 
fact, they looked foreign, for their cloaks were thick and neither patched nor mended. Their horses were 
twice as fat and sleek as her pair.

 Her heart was hammering with fright, but almost at once she regained her wits and told herself to act 
nonchalant.

 So she gave them a nod and clucked to her horses, then attempted to lead them past the strangers.

 Hold there, if you will, called out one of the four. His voice was clear, strong, and foreign. He spoke 
Netheran with a strange accent indeed, but she could understand him.

 The problem was, she feared the soldiers asleep in the inn would also hear him.

 Is this an inn? the stranger asked her.

 Alexeika shook her head.

 The four travelers exchanged looks and sighs of obvious disappointment. Alexeika hardened her heart 
to their plight. It was late and cold, but if they were foreign and soft theyd not find this lodging to their 
satisfaction. Better to spend the night in the forest with beyars and wolves than to share a roof with the 
kings men.

 Holding her head down, she tried again to lead the horses past them, and again the spokesman 
blocked her path. We were told we could find lodging in this village. Where is it, if not here?

 Silently, Alexeika pointed down the road the way theyd come.

 One of the other men, a large shadow with bulky shoulders, growled within the dark folds of his hood. 
Nay, sire, he said in Mandrian, which Alexeika understood, this lads playing us for a fool. Weve 
found the place, right enough.

 Their leader raised his gloved hand for silence and regarded Alexeika from within the dark folds of his 
hood. Guide us to the inn, and Ill pay you for your trouble.

 Again Alexeika shook her head. She dared not speak. Although she looked enough like a boy in the 
moonlight in her masculine garments, her voice was unmistakably feminine and melodious, difficult to 
disguise.

 Might be a half-wit, growled the large man whod spoken earlier.

 Alexeika did not wait for the leader to respond. She tightened her grip on her horses bridles and led 
them forward past his stirrup.

 In silence he did nothing to stop her, and she was just feeling the first stir of relief when she overheard 
him say to his men, Thum, see if you can rouse the landlord. If nothing else, perhaps we can pay the 
owner of a private dwelling to let us lodge for the night.

 Aye 
Alexeika spun around. Do not call out, she pleaded ur-gently, keeping her voice as low as she 
could. Your kind are not welcome here, and King Muncels soldiers lodge within.

 At that moment the watchdog set up a furious barking, and a shout came from inside the inn. Alexeika 
swore and jumped onto the bony back of one of her acquisitions. She kicked it forward and yanked on 
the reins of the other just as some of the soldiers came bursting out into the yard and ran to the gates.

 Thief! Bandits!

 The clash of steel made Alexeika glance back. She saw the four strangers fighting off the soldiers 
disorganized attack. Grinning to herself, Alexeika kicked her mount to a gallop, and the horse she led 
broke into an unwilling run alongside.

 Seconds later, she heard the thunder of hoofbeats behind her and saw that the four strangers were 
following her. She swore in annoyance, for they would lead the soldiers onto her trail.

 By now, torchlight was flaring in the stableyard. Men shouted, and already some of the soldiers were 


mounted in pursuit.

mounted in pursuit.

 Reluctantly she dropped its reins, and the animal blundered over into the path of one of her pursuers. 
As the man cursed in Mandrian, Alexeika yanked on the reins and left the road, ducking low as she 
plunged into the forest. Here, no moonlight penetrated the interlaced boughs of pine and fir. She rode 
recklessly through the darkness, pressing her cheek to her horses rough mane to keep from being 
whipped by branches.

 If Thod favored her, as she prayed he would, the Mandri-ans would not leave the safety of the road.

 But Thod did not favor her.

 The Mandrians fell back slightly and Alexeika thought her ploy had worked, but then two riders began 
to follow her while the others stopped to engage the soldiers. Again she heard the clash of swords, along 
with a choked cry of pain.

 The second skirmish ended nearly as soon as it began. Alexeika glanced back, and now she saw a 
shadowy figure racing behind her, closing the narrow gap. Worriedly she tried to think of another trick to 
throw him off, but at that moment her horse plunged into a thicket of briers and reared with a squeal of 
pain.

 With no stirrups or saddle to aid her, Alexeika nearly fell off. Clinging to the horses neck, she hung on 
desperately while it lunged out of the thicket. Then it halted with a lurch that sent her flying.

 She landed on her hands and knees with a jolt that snapped her teeth together. As her horse whinnied 
and tried to run backward from her, she staggered upright in an attempt to grab the dangling reins, 
stumbled in the deep snow, and fell again.

 Meanwhile, the Mandrian in pursuit galloped up so fast she feared she would be trampled. She rolled 
frantically to one side even as his mount plunged to a halt, throwing a spume of snow over her. Snorting 
white jets of air, the horse tossed its fine head and pawed the ground.

 Alexeikas horse flicked its moth-eaten tail and darted into the undergrowth. Seeing a long days 
worth of hard work vanish like mist, she knelt in the snow and swore long and loud. 
The Mandrian laughed at her. I understand one word in four, he said, still chuckling, but for a maid 
verily you do curse as well as any knight Ive known. 
Vexed beyond measure, Alexeika fell silent. To be laughed at, after having failed so completely in her 

objective, made her furious.

 The other Mandrians joined their leader, who glanced their way. Any more to follow? he asked.

 Nay, sire, said the largest one. They fought ill indeed. Why they thought us bandits I

 The leader pointed at Alexeika. There is the bandit, but she has lost both her horses in the chase.

 She? one of them asked him. You mean

 Aye, a maid, the leader said. Amusement still colored his voice, and Alexeikas cheeks burned like 
fire.

 She rose to her feet and looked carefully to one side to see if she could escape this clearing for the 
nearby thicket before they had time to stop her. Her hands settled themselves unob-trusively on the hilts 
of her daggers, ready to throw with deadly accuracy if these men decided to try other sport with her.

 Come, lass, the leader said to Alexeika, stretching out his hand. Climb behind my saddle and guide 
us to where we can shelter for the night in this blighted cold.

 While Alexeika hesitated, the biggest man cleared his throat. Nay, sire, he protested, be not so 
generous or so trusting.

 Shes a proven thief, another one remarked.

 Im not leaving her here in the cold, the leader said. Come, maid. We mean you no harm, as long as 
you try not to steal our horses.

 Stung by that remark, Alexeika tossed her head. Im no thief.

 Were those horses yours?

 Grinding her teeth together, she would not answer. 


 A thief, the large man said with a growl. Leave her be, yer grace, and lets quit this wood as fast as 
we can.

 A thief, the large man said with a growl. Leave her be, yer grace, and lets quit this wood as fast as 
we can.

 How much coin do you offer?

 Two silver dreits.

 In Mandrian coin? Her mouth opened in shock even as she thought he must be a fool. The offer was 
too generous, which meant he knew nothing about Nether at all.

 I know more than you think, he said gently, as though he could read her very thoughts. Would you 
rather have skannen instead

 Ill take the dreits, she said swiftly, and gripped his stirrup.

 The large man kicked his horse forward. Nay, lass, youll ride with me. And youll hand over both 
daggers and the sword first.

 She backed up at once. Never!

 Sir Terent, you affront her at every turn, the leader chided the man gently. Despite his odd accent, 
there was something familiar about his voice, something that toyed with her memory. Shes no enemy of 
ours.

 Dont be so sure, Sir Terent replied sourly. Weve met no friend in this forsaken land yet, and

 What is your name? the leader asked her.

 Alexeika.

 He waited a moment as though he expected her to tell him the rest of it, but when she did not he 
bowed to her from his saddle. Alexeika is a highborn name, is it not? Very pretty.

 She flushed at the compliment, then felt renewed anger at herself for being swayed by his charm and 
manners.

 You are welcome to come with us, Alexeika, and show us to good shelter. Will you give me your 
word that you will not use your weapons against me or my companions?

 She hesitated, sensing the suspicion and distrust that surrounded her from everyone except the leader. 
Youre no enemy of mine, she said begrudgingly. Ill strike you not, providing none of you strike me.

 Fair enough, the leader announced, and held out his hand to her again. Climb up behind me.

 The thought of those two silver dreits decided her, for they were a fortune. At best, Costma would 
have given her only a few skannen for the horses. But Mandrian dreits would put an end to the shortage 
in her purse, meaning shed have enough to live on for the rest of the winter. It was incredibly good 
fortune, and she hesitated no longer.

 When she grasped the strangers hand he pulled his foot from his stirrup, and she climbed up behind 
him with quick agility. Settled at his back, she resisted the impulse to put her arms around him and 
clutched the back of his fine thick cloak instead. He was a rich man, this stranger, and why hed chosen 
to travel into Nether at this time of year was a mystery she did not care to unravel. Soon enough hed run 
into more trouble than his three men could handle, and then hed be shorn of his fine clothes, his boots, 
and his fancy horse, not to mention his fat purse. For a moment it was tempting to consider guiding him to 
Costmas camp and turning him over to the bandits.

 But then she thought of her father and what he would have said to such a dishonorable scheme. 
Ashamed of herself for even thinking it, Alexeika tapped the Mandrian lords shoulder and pointed 
deeper into the forest. That way.

 In less than an hour they reached a sheltered spot that was Alex-eikas camp. Nestled beneath the 
overhanging bank of a small stream that was now a half-frozen rivulet in the snow, it was a good place, 
protected from the wind and easily defended. Alexeika showed the men where they could tether their 
horses in a small, sheltering grove of shtac. She dismounted, then ducked beneath the overhang and 
pulled aside the stone where she kept her strikebox and tinder dry.

 A few moments later she had a fire going. The men moved back and forth, unsaddling and caring for 
their horses, talking softly among themselves as they decided who would stand watch and in what order. 


Alexeika fed sticks to her small fire, which blazed stronger, and watched the men without appearing to. 
She found herself approving of their camaraderie and discipline. Three of them, the lord included, were 
clearly knights, for the firelight glinted off their mail hauberks and spurs. The fourth individual, young and 
very thin with freckles and dark red hair, served the lord as squire.

Alexeika fed sticks to her small fire, which blazed stronger, and watched the men without appearing to. 
She found herself approving of their camaraderie and discipline. Three of them, the lord included, were 
clearly knights, for the firelight glinted off their mail hauberks and spurs. The fourth individual, young and 
very thin with freckles and dark red hair, served the lord as squire.

 Giving her a tentative smile, he said, I am Thum du Maltie, squire to our master. May I heat this water 
for his comfort?

 She nodded, not yet ready to smile back. If you dont set my bucket afire.

 There was a simple trick to heating bark containers, but it seemed the squire intended to take no 
chances. He produced a metal pot from his saddlebags and used it to heat the water. Then he set about 
unwrapping some bundles of waxed linen to produce a feast of cold meat, cheese, flat cakes, and apples.

 Although Alexeika had eaten, her supper had been meager fare indeed compared with this. As the 
men gathered around the fire, crouching low to keep from bumping their heads on the overhang, Alexeika 
shyly retreated deeper into the shadows.

 The largest man was clearly the lowest born. Sir Terent, the lord had called him, and he was 
rough-edged and plain, sitting there with his ruddy face and gapped teeth. His green eyes remained 
forever watchful for trouble in the dark woods beyond their fire. Now and then he glanced at her, alert to 
her movements.

 By his actions, he was clearly the lords protector, she realized.

 The other knight was fair-haired and soft-spoken, a courtly man whose manner reminded her of her 
fathers. Suddenly she yearned for her old life, when her father had still lived and there had been a few 
remnants of civility and grace in their camp.

 I am Sir Alard, he said to Alexeika as he carved himself a hearty slice of meat with his dagger. Will 
you eat with us?

 Shed had no meat in several days. Game had grown scarce here, and she knew shed have to move 
her camp soon. Silently she nodded her acceptance of the mans offer, and grew round-eyed as he 
handed her the large slice of meat hed cut for himself.

 Cold rations again, Sir Terent grumbled between bites of flat cake. Nothing to warm a mans bones 
in this supper.

 Be glad youve got food at all, Sir Alard told him, and offered Alexeika a flat cake.

 She took it politely. The cake was light in texture, baked of fine flour with no coarse grain in it. 
Ravenous, she devoured it in four bites and gnawed happily at her meat, grateful for the mens casual 
generosity.

 Thum took the heated water and carried it out to the shadows for the lord to wash with.

 Warmed by the fire, Alexeika pulled off her tattered cloak and knelt to put another stick on the blaze.

 Thods mercy! Sir Terent shouted, reaching for his sword.

 That was all the warning Alexeika had before she found herself knocked sprawling. Coughing, she 
lifted her head and found Sir Terents sword tip at her throat. Sir Alards foot pinned her arm.

 She lay there, half-winded and paralyzed with alarm. What

 Silence! Sir Terent roared. Youll have steel down your gullet if you try your wiles on me.

 She could not understand what had turned them so suddenly against her. Sir Terents hostility, 
however, could not be doubted, and when she shifted her gaze to Sir Alard, that knight looked no less 
dangerous.

 Ill hold her, Sir Terent said grimly to his fellow knight. Run and tell his grace that weve caught 
ourselves a Nonkind witch.

 Sir Alard obeyed, while Alexeika glared up at Sir Terent. She realized now that it was the sight of her 
red hauberk that had alarmed him. He was a fool to jump to conclusions, but when she opened her 
mouth to tell him so, he pressed harder with his sword, and she felt the tip break her skin. She froze, 
hardly daring to breathe, and moved no more.

 At that moment, the lord strode up. He had thrown back his cloak hood like the others, but unlike 


them, he had removed his mail coif and washed the road grime from his face and hands. His black hair 
fell, neatly combed, to his shoulders. When he stopped next to her, he stood so that the fire was at his 
back and his face remained cast in shadow.

them, he had removed his mail coif and washed the road grime from his face and hands. His black hair 
fell, neatly combed, to his shoulders. When he stopped next to her, he stood so that the fire was at his 
back and his face remained cast in shadow.

 Look at her, sire, Sir Terent said roughly. Look at what shes wearing.

 Gantese mail.

 Aye. That makes her one of the murdering savages if not

 Shes Netheran, not a Believer, the lord said sharply.

 But we know that Nether and Gant are allies now,Sir Alard said. Strange how neatly we fell into 
her path. She could have led us into a trap and

 Theres no trap here, their master said. Let her up.

 But, sire

 Let her up. She intends us no harm, no matter what she wears.

 Sir Terent looked as though he wanted to argue, but he obeyed the command. As soon as his sword 
tip swung away from her throat, Alexeika scrambled up and tackled him by his ankles, knocking him to 
the ground. He fell with a howling curse of fury, but she was already swarming him and had drawn one of 
her daggers. She pricked his throat, and had the satisfaction of seeing his green eyes flare wide with 
alarm, before she sprang off him and whirled to face the others, crouching low, her dagger ready in her 
hand.

 Get away from me, you Mandrian devils! she snarled. I curse this fire Ive shared with you! I

 Alexeika! Be at peace, the lord said to her, holding up his hand placatingly. The firelight gleamed in 
the ruby on his finger. It was a mistake, nothing more.

 Sir Terent rose to his feet, dabbing at the trickle of blood on his neck, and scowling. Damne, Ill 
show her what a mistake is.

 Youll stand! the lord commanded in a voice like thunder. Youve caused enough trouble, sir.

 Sir Terent turned bright red. Sire, weve seen the womenfolk of Nether. Aint none of them like this. 
Shes a shapeshifter or Believer or both. Whats more, shes likely to cast a

 Enough! the lord snapped, and Sir Terent fell reluctantly silent. I have already said shes not 
Nonkind. Even the mail she wears carries no taint.

 I cleaned it well after I killed the Believer it belonged to, Alexeika said fiercely, glaring at Sir Terent.

 He glared back. Aint likely, he growled. Horse thief, liar, and idle boaster.

 His master gestured in visible annoyance, and Sir Terent uttered no more taunts.

 Furious with herself for having brought these men here, Alexeika glared at them all. They had no right 
to judge her or insult her by calling her a liar. They were foreign dogs, louts of no breeding and less 
worth. And if Sir Terent insulted her once more, shed hurl this dagger at his throat and silence him 
forever.

 Enough of this, the lord said, cutting across the hostile quiet. Let us all return to the fire and sup 
together. Weve no right to judge Alexeika, no right to force explanations. She

 You owe me two silver dreits, Alexeika broke in, interrupting his attempt to restore peace. Ill have 
my payment now. Then Im going. Keep the camp. I care not, but Ill share no fire with you again. Nay, 
and I want no more of your putrid food, either!

 As she spoke, she vowed to spend the rest of the night walking to Costmas camp. Shed tell him 
where these rich strangers were and see him pluck them the way they deserved. That ruby ring alone 
would fetch a good price.

 Very well, Alexeika, the lord said mildly. He ignored his mens protests and turned toward the fire to 
pick out the coins from his purse.

 As he did so, Alexeika caught a clear view of his face for the first time that night. To her total 
astonishment, she recognized his lean chiseled face, slanted cheekbones, keen pale gray eyes, and mouth 
both sensitive and determined. Now she knew why his voice had sounded familiar. She had seen this 
man, seen him in a vision on the fjord long months ago, when shed tried to conjure forth her dead 
fathers spirit and had brought forth King Faldains image instead. 


 Disbelief flooded her, yet she was certain he was one and the same. Dropping her dagger unheeded 
on the ground, she retreated from him and nearly lost her balance on the sloping bank.

 Disbelief flooded her, yet she was certain he was one and the same. Dropping her dagger unheeded 
on the ground, she retreated from him and nearly lost her balance on the sloping bank.

 Alexeika? The lords voice was both gentle and commanding.

 She felt faint at the sound of it, faint and on fire all at the same time. This was the man shed cursed; 
this was the man shed considered betraying to Costmas bandits. Thod above, but she was unworthy to 
have found him, unworthy of his kindness and his valor in saving her tonight from the usurpers soldiers.

 Whats amiss with you now? Faldain asked.

 Shes lost her wits, Sir Terent said gruffly. That is, if she ever had any.

 Ignoring his insult, Alexeika went on staring at Faldain. Her heart was thudding so hard it hurt. He was 
no apparition this time, but actual flesh and bone.

 Shes staring hard at his grace, Sir Alard said in alarm. If she means to cast a spell

 She doesnt, Faldain said quickly. Put aside your superstitions, men. She cannot harm you that 
way.

 Thum stepped forward. Be at ease, Alexeika. This is our lord and master, the Chevard of Thirst

 Nay, he is not! she broke in, refusing the lie.

 He is! Thum said hotly.

 Liar! I know different.

 Faldain gripped Thums arm to hold him still and walked toward her with a frown.

 Sire, dont go near her! Sir Terent pleaded, but Faldain ignored him.

 As he approached, it was all Alexeika could do to hold her ground. Her knees were shaking so she 
feared they might buckle.

 Alexeika, Faldain said gently. What ails you?

 Her ears were roaring. She kept staring at him, telling herself that he was real. She had ridden at his 
back. She had gripped his hand in hers.

 Alexeika?

 You, she said, forcing herself to speak at last. In some dim corner of her brain, she realized she was 
acting like a fool, like the basest, most unlettered peasant, but all her training seemed to have deserted 
her. In truth, she could scarcely command her wits. You are King Faldain.

 He halted in his tracks.

 Alexeikas gaze never left his face. She had dreamed of him often, trying to imagine where he was, 
what he might be like. In her mind she had made a valiant hero of him, hoping that one day he would 
return to his kingdom and free his people. But in all her dreams and imaginings, she had not quite 
conjured him into this tall, broad-shouldered, handsome man. She had not prepared herself for the keen 
force of his penetrating gaze, for his intelligence and perception. She stared at him now, and wondered if 
he would admit his true identity to her.

 You are, she insisted, although hed neither confirmed nor denied what shed said. Youre King 
Faldain. You have returned.

 Still he did not speak.

 His squire frowned at her. Why do you say this? How do you know?

 I have seen him before.

 And I say her wits are clean addled, Sir Terent said loudly. Shes no

 Faldain, however, held up his hand. Recognition suddenly flashed in his eyes. The lake, he said. 
You were the one who brought me there!

 Her knees failed her then. She sank to the ground and bowed low, overwhelmed by the desire to 
weep and laugh at the same time. Your majesty, she said through her tears. Oh, that my father could 
have lived to see your return.

 Faldain bent over her and pulled her upright. You parted the veils of seeing to find me many months 
ago, he said to her in wonder. Who are you?

 And now at last she remembered her training and her lineage. Lifting her head proudly to belie her 
ragged clothing and dirt-smeared face, she said, I am the Princess Alexeika Volvn, daughter of Prince 


Ilymir Volvn, former general of King Tobesz-ijians forces. My mother was lady in waiting to Queen 
Nereisse and later served Queen Neaglis under duress until Neaglis had her executed as a spy.

Ilymir Volvn, former general of King Tobesz-ijians forces. My mother was lady in waiting to Queen 
Nereisse and later served Queen Neaglis under duress until Neaglis had her executed as a spy.

 My fathers sword. He has no sons to carry it, and so I bear it in the cause of restoration of your 
majestys throne, and the defeat of the usurper.

 Faldain reached out and gently touched the hilt for a brief moment. Your service honors me, he said 
quietly. As does the noble blade Severgard.

 Awestruck, Alexeika realized she had not said the swords name aloud. How did youyou

 Faldain smiled. It told me.

 She knew that swords made of magicked metal were supposed to speak to their masters, but although 
Severgard obeyed her hand and had glowed with power when shed wielded it against the creatures of 
darkness, never had she actually heard its song. That he could astonished her. In truth he was the king.

 Faldain gestured. Come, my lady, he said with courtesy, as though her hair was combed and 
braided with jewels and she wore a fine gown of silk velvet. Come and retake your place at the fire. 
Weve much to discuss.

 Feeling numb, she obeyed, and hardly noticed when he bent to pick up her dropped dagger and hand 
it back to her. Absently she sheathed the weapon and sat down across the fire from him.

 The ruddy light cast shadows and angles over his face, as sparks and flame danced between them.

 When the others crowded around, Alexeika leaned forward. Your army, she said eagerly. How far 

behind you does it come? How many troops have you? Infantry or calvary? Or both? 
Embarrassment colored his face. He shook his head. Nay, good lady. I come not leading an army. I 
am here with these men only, traveling in secret to find the eld-folk. 
His answer was so unexpected she could but stare at him at first. I must have misheard your 

majesty, she said slowly. You come not with an army?

 He shrugged. Do you see one encamped here? Nay. As I said, I travel with these men only.

 But what mean you by this? she cried, forgetting she spoke to a king. Have you not come to Nether 
to claim your throne, as is your right?

 In time, yes, but first

 First? What could be more important?

 His gray eyes flashed angrily. That, good lady, is not your concern. 

 Isnt it? Why come here at all, if you mean to ignore the plight of your people? she cried, ignoring the 
anger in his face. Disappointment and outrage choked her. She could not help thinking of her fathers 
slain body lying on that battlefield, a brave and noble man who had fought for thisthis cravens cause. 
Tears burned her eyes. Do you care nothing for the sacrifices that have been made on your behalf? Do 
you have no heart, that you can ignore the misery and wretchedness that youve seen?

 Rigid with anger, he jumped to his feet.

 She also stood up, glaring at him with a spirit fed by years of hope now crushed past bearing. 
Sneaking into Nether like a thief, hiding yourself as though you are ashamed of who you are

 Thats enough! he snapped. I do not answer to you. I need not explain my actions.

 Why? she taunted him. Because you are king?

 Nostrils flaring, he said nothing.

 If you will not declare yourself, and act like a king, then you cannot expect me to treat you as one, 
she told him. I

 have seen five hundred valiant knights, brave warriors all, slain to the last man by trickery and evil. 
They died in your cause, and my father died with them. He believed in you and your father to the last. 
Her voice nearly broke, but she managed to control it. I am glad now that he did not live to see this day, 
did not live to see you as you really are, unworthy of his sacrifice and devotion.

 Faldain had turned white. His lips were clamped in a thin line, and his pale eyes blazed at her. You 
are quick to judge, my lady, he said at last, his voice hoarse with the effort of controlling it. You are 
quick to condemn matters you understand not. 


 She despised him for keeping his temper, for refusing to defend himself against her accusations. 
Worse, she despised him because shed been infatuated with him all this time, and now that shed seen 
him she was forced to realize that shed been thoroughly deluded. He looked strong and handsome, yes. 
He had civil manners, and intelligent, well-governed men around him, but he was all show and good 
clothing. Shed seen nothing of worth in him except his innate kindness. But kindness did not make a 
king. Kindness did not win a stolen throne from the hands of one so evil and unscrupulous she could 
barely say his name aloud.

 She despised him for keeping his temper, for refusing to defend himself against her accusations. 
Worse, she despised him because shed been infatuated with him all this time, and now that shed seen 
him she was forced to realize that shed been thoroughly deluded. He looked strong and handsome, yes. 
He had civil manners, and intelligent, well-governed men around him, but he was all show and good 
clothing. Shed seen nothing of worth in him except his innate kindness. But kindness did not make a 
king. Kindness did not win a stolen throne from the hands of one so evil and unscrupulous she could 
barely say his name aloud.

 You are not sorry, she broke in with scorn. You did not know him. You did not watch him cut 
down, as I did. Why should you care?

 His pale gray eyes raked her. I, too, have seen loved ones die. Do you think you are the only one in 
this world who has suffered loss or deprivation, princess?

 You have grown up in Mandrian ease, she said scornfully, glancing at the other men, who were 
looking on in complete silence. A prince of royal blood, pampered and given every

 Faldain laughed, the sound cutting across her words and driving her to furious silence. Even worse, 
some of his men began to smile. They exchanged glances as though they shared some private joke. She 
despised them for laughing at her.

 Well? she demanded, refusing to back down. What does your majesty know of want? When have 
you ever gone hungry or slept in the wilderness like an animal with only a pile of leaves to serve as a 
bed?

 A muscle leaped in his jaw, but he answered not.

 Instead, his squire spoke up: Truly, my lady, you do discuss matters of which you are woefully 
ignorant. It has only been this autumn that his majesty learned his true identity and royal lineage. He grew 
up in Nold, apprenticed to a sword-maker, and would remain there still had his family not been 
slaughtered in a dwarf war.

 Thats enough, Thum, Faldain said.

 But Thum squared his shoulders and continued. He has known both whippings and near-starvation. 
People of eld blood fare poorly in Mandria, and had he not come to the favor of King Verence he might 
be beggared still.

 Alexeikas eyes widened. She felt a roaring in her ears, and her face was on fire.

 You call yourself highborn, Thum continued scathingly, but you have the appearance of a harridan. 
You are wild, tattered, and dirty, with sticks and leaves in your hair. You are garbed immodestly in mens 
clothing. When we saw you this evening, you were stealing horses, yet you think you have the right to 
scream at our master and accuse him of cowardice and worse. You are not fit to speak his name, much 
less judge his actions.

 Enough, Thum, Faldain said sharply, and this time his squire colored and obeyed.

 Alexeika stood there as though frozen while they all stared at her in disapproval. Inside, she raged at 
what Thum had said, yet his words carried the ring of truth. And she was mortified by how much she 
deserved his reprimand. Her father would have been ashamed of her for the way shed acted tonight, and 
she wished the ground would open now and swallow her.

 Living alone these past few weeks had been hard indeed. Since her escape from the Grethori, she had 
been all internal fire and steely determination. It had driven her and given her purpose so that she could 
survive on her own. But perhaps shed become too hard, too fierce. If what Thum said was true, shed 
made a dreadful error.

 Somehow, although she wanted to die, she managed to bring up her gaze to meet Faldains. What 
must he think of her? What had she done?

 Your majesty, she said so softly her words were barely above a whisper. My behavior has been 
inexcusable. I forgot my place. I

 Let us say no more about it, he interrupted coldly, and turned away. Wed better get some rest if 
were to make an early start come morning.

 Aye, Sir Terent said. Im to take first watch. You use my blanket as well as your own, sire. 


 Then they went on about their business of shaking out bedrolls and banking the fire, all of them 
ignoring Alexeika as though shed ceased to exist.

 Then they went on about their business of shaking out bedrolls and banking the fire, all of them 
ignoring Alexeika as though shed ceased to exist.

 Then Faldain glanced at her and held out the spare blanket. Come to the fire, Alexeika, he said. 
Use this blanket, if you have none of your own.

 His kindness was even worse. She turned away and stumbled out into the darkness to the edge of the 
trees. Her throat ached, and tears spilled down her cheeks, freezing there in the frosty air. She felt as 
though shed failed her father and all his expectations of her. And yet, what was she to think of a king 
who would not seize his throne, would not take the risk of standing forth and making his claim openly?

 After a few minutes, she heard footsteps behind her and whirled around, her hand on her dagger.

 Alexeika, Faldain said quietly, fear not. I mean you no harm.

 Her hand dropped from the weapon, and she drew a long, shuddering sigh. Please, she whispered, 
wiping furtively at her eyes in the dark, leave me alone.

 If thats your wish. I came to pay you the coinage I owe you.

 Pride surged hot in her throat. She wanted to throw the money in his face, but her common sense and 
desperation made her stretch out her hand to take the coins. She gripped them hard, and fresh shame 
branded her all over again.

 You are no common lass. Forgive me, but I meant no common lady,  he said, breaking the silence. 
Your way of life has taken you cross-country many times? Yes.

 Good. I could hunt the eld-folk on my own, but winter is coming soon, and I must find what I seek 
without delay. Will you guide me to my mothers people, Alexeika? I will pay you well for your trouble.

 She sniffed, and wiped her eyes again. I dont understand. The eldin will not fight. They will give you 
no army.

 He snorted impatiently. Do not worry about my army. I have one already in place.

 She stared at him in astonishment, wishing she could see his face through the darkness. Butbut your 
majesty said you had none.

 I said I have come to Nether with only the men who are with me tonight. That does not mean I have 
no warriors to fight in my name.

 Her sense of astonishment grew, and rapidly she reviewed in her mind the remaining bands of rebels 
that she knew about. So many had given up and dispersed.

 Will you guide me to the eld-folk? he asked again. She frowned. They cannot be found, not now. 
Perhaps in the spring, when thaw begins, but

 But do you know where they are? Where to look for them? She hesitated, then shook her head. 
No, majesty. Without warning, he pounced on her, pushing her back against a tree and pinning her 
there. She tried to fight him off, but he gripped her wrist with crushing strength. Never lie to me again, 
he said harshly. Her mouth went dry. She could feel her heart thudding against her ribs, even after he 
released her and turned away. He was incredibly quick. She realized she had underestimated him, 
misjudged him, perhaps completely.

 Confused and embarrassed, she swallowed with difficulty and tried to amend her mistake. Forgive 
me, she whispered.

 You have judged me, insulted me, and now lied to me, he said, his voice like iron. Why should I 
forgive you anything?

 I will find another guide.

 He started to walk away, but she ran after him. Your majesty, wait! I didnt mean to lie. Its just that 

searching for the eldin is a waste of time. They 
It is my time to waste, he said harshly. Mine, and that of the one I love. How dare you decide such 
things for me? 
Im sorry, she whispered, feeling as though shed been struck. II have been used to giving 
orders. I dont take them very well. 
It would seem you do not take them at all. If your father was a general, my lady, I wonder you are 


not better trained.

not better trained.

 Please, she said, letting herself plead. I would be honored to guide your majesty anywhere. I just 
thought I

 You must give me your word never to lie to me again, Alexeika. I will not tolerate it, not in anyone 
who serves me.

 He spoke to her the way he might have spoken to a servant. Irritation flared inside her, but she 
stamped it out. If he was really the king, he could speak to her any way he chose, and she would have to 
accept it.

 She bowed her head. I swear my honesty, your majesty.

 Then on the morrow you will guide me to the eld-folk?

 She hesitated. I will take you where I think they might be found. I cannot promise success. They no 
longer trust men.

 Then I shall find much in common with them, he said dryly.

 She frowned. If your majesty would but strike first at Grov, and proclaim yourself there, the people 
would rally to you. And the eldin would come forth from hiding. It would not be necessary to seek them.

 I have asked you to be my guide, not my adviser, he said firmly. If I want your counsel I will ask 
you for it; otherwise, my actions and decisions are not yours to question.

 She could not rein in her pride. You misjudge me if you think I am some meek maiden fit only for 
pointing you down a road, she told him plainly. I know this land, yes, especially the mountain and fjord 
country. But I know much more that could be of use to your majesty, if you would but allow it.

 You

 I have been trained in battle strategy.

 He laughed. Am I to be taught by a girl? Nay, my lady, you wont

 Hear me! she said furiously. Of course I do not intend to teach your majesty simple battle skills, but 
do you know the Netheran style of fighting? Do you know how to face Nonkind and sorcerelsl Do you 
even know what they are?

 Aye, he said brusquely. I do.

 She realized she was offending him again, but she had to prove her point. I am not helpless. See 
these? She drew her daggers and held them out for him to see. I have slain the men who carried them. 
One was a Grethori chieftain; the other was a Believer. I have used my fathers sword in battle. I have 
fought in your majestys name, struggled to keep your cause alive. There is a price on my head, as there 
was on my fathers. I tell you all this not to boast, but to show you the value of my advice. Heed me, 
majesty, and let me guide you in more than following a trail.

 You have been accustomed perhaps to giving orders in your fathers camp, he replied, but you will 
not give them here. There can be but one leader among us. If you are a true supporter in my cause, you 
will accept this. Well?

 Alexeika felt as though shed been flattened again, and a mixture of resentment and exasperation 
stirred her. After all, her father had trained her to use her intelligence and abilities. She wasnt trying to 
compete with Faldain; she only wanted to help him. But it seemed that wasnt what he wanted.

 She had often imagined what it would be like if she were to ever meet him. She believed he would 
instantly acknowledge her to be no ordinary woman, and he would be grateful for her help. Instead, she 
had found herself reprimanded harshly and put firmly in her place. It seemed her expectations had been 
far too idealistic. He had a mules stubbornness, and a poor grasp of his kingdoms political situation. 
Such a combination could be deadly. She should perhaps abandon him now, she reflected, before she 
was forced to witness disaster.

 And yet, she could not go. She had spent her life wondering what he would be like. After shed seen 
the vision of him on the fjord, she had been infatuated with him. Now that shed met him in person and 
felt the force of his charm and mag-netism, she could not imagine herself anywhere except at his side. Yet 
that confused her too. 


 Well? he asked again, impatiently this time. We must get this settled, for I do not want to repeat this 
argument with you.

 Well? he asked again, impatiently this time. We must get this settled, for I do not want to repeat this 
argument with you.

 Good. He did not seem to notice how hard it had been for her to say that. I am in great haste to 
find the eld-folk. I seek a cure, one that they alone can give

 Are you ill, majesty? she asked in alarm.

 Nay, it is for someone ... very dear to me, he said.

 She tried to draw breath, but her lungs did not seem to be working very well. Her dreams were 
bursting in rapid succession tonight. How could she have ever hoped he would see her and instantly lose 
his heart? She was rough and unfeminine, her maidenly wiles forgotten. Naturally he would have a lady he 
loved. He might even be married, although he wore no marriage ring. Feeling foolish, Alexeika told 
herself her dream of winning him was girlish nonsense that must come to an end. But it hurt just the same.

 As Faldain walked back toward the fire, with Alexeika following, he said, When we have found the 
eld-folk, then I hope you will guide me to General Matkevskiet.

 Surprised yet again, she stopped in her tracks to stare at him.

 He did not pause, but continued walking so that she was forced to hurry to catch up.

 If you are indeed the daughter of a rebel leader, then you must know this man.

 Of course. She frowned. I mean, I know who he is. I saw him once when I was a child. Hehe 
refused to join the Agya forces with my fathers men. If he had, they could have crippled Muncels army 
before he gained troops from Gant. It might have made all the difference, or so my father used to say. 
There was no communication between them after that.

 And Count Romsalkin?

 Again he surprised her. These men support you?

 Aye.

 And you tell me this? she said, marveling. You do not suspect that I might betray you at the first 
village we come to? The usurpers spies and paid informants are everywhere. I could betray you, and 
Matkevskiet and Romsalkin as well, for a few pieces of

 But you wont, Faldain broke in calmly. Their gazes locked for a long time. No, she said, lifting her 
head proudly. I wont. But I do not think you should trust meor anyoneas quickly as this.

 He grinned, and in that moment she lost her heart to him forever. There was such charm in his face, 
such a winning look, that she could not resist him. You need not worry, he told her. You seem to think 
me something of a fool, Alexeika, but fear not. I was raised by dwarves, and I know more than you 
suppose.

 Her face flamed anew. It seemed she had made every mistake possible tonight. Majesty, I

 It grows late, and we must ride at first light, he said in dismissal, and climbed into the bedroll his 
squire had prepared for him.

 Disgruntled, Alexeika hesitantly took up the blanket they had generously left for her use, and wrapped 
herself in its folds. She settled herself a little apart from the men, with her back propped against the bank 
for security.

 Sir Alard was the last to settle himself by the fires glowing embers. Rolling over so that he could look 
at her, he smiled and said softly for her ears alone, We have all tried to dissuade him from this quest, 
and cannot. You will not succeed either.

 She frowned. Not even if we are trapped up by the Worlds Rim when the deep cold comes? It is 
folly to seek the eldin this time of year. It was folly to seek them at any time of year, for they refused to 
be found, but she did not say that aloud.

 Sir Alard shrugged and burrowed deeper into his blankets, saying nothing else. Soon the men were 
snoring.

 Alexeika lay there, wide-awake and unable to calm herself. She listened to the sentry stamp his feet 
out in the darkness to keep them warm. She listened to her own heartbeat thrumming with excitement 
that Faldain was so near. He was stubborn, impossible to manage, ruthless beneath his courtesy, and 
completely fascinating. She had done everything wrong tonight, and yet he had still offered her a place in 


his service. 

his service. 

 If only they were riding in the right direction, instead of on this mysterious quest of his. She thought 
briefly of misleading him and guiding his path straight to the Agya hideouts, but at once she dismissed the 
temptation. He had too much eld blood in him to be so easily fooled. Besides, there was more to this 
matter than hed yet revealed. She warned herself to bite her tongue and take care.

 And for the first time in her life, she could not sleep.

 With his horse plodding in Lord Barthomews wake, Prince Gavril squinted into the driving snow, and 
huddled deeper inside his fur-lined cloak. He was exhausted and half-frozen. His joints ached from long 
hours in the saddle, but he had too much pride to rest himself in one of the wagons. Cardinal Noncire had 
retired from riding horseback many days ago, and now rode in state beneath an arched canopy that 
protected him from the worst of the wind and cold, with a little portable brazier burning with coals, soft 
cushions to recline on, and his scrolls and books to read. Each day he invited Gavril to share his 
comforts, and each day Gavril gave him a curt refusal.

 He had yet to forgive Noncire for his failure to learn the true whereabouts of from Dain. After all, 
Gavril had warned Noncire that Dain required special handling, but the cardinal had been too arrogant, 
too self-confident, to listen.

 As a result, Dain had deceived them all, his vile trickery sending Gavril on a futile chase to an 
abandoned shepherds hut in the meadows far west of Thirst Hold. That escapade cost them three days 
of time they could ill afford to spare. Dain seemed incapable of understanding how holy and precious

 was, or how vitally important it was to recover the sacred vessel.

 Now, riding along the road while the wind blew right through his cloak and furs and the snow stung his 
face, Gavril fumed and clenched his cold fingers harder on the reins. He vowed that if ever again his path 
crossed with Dains, he would make that pagan dog pay dearly for misleading them.

 In the first place, Dain should have been forthcoming abouts whereabouts. When Noncire questioned 
him, Dain should have submitted himself willingly, even eagerly, to the cardinals interrogation. After all, 
hed sworn to help save Pheresas life. The liar had claimed he would do anything for her.

 To Gavril had fallen the unpleasant task of explaining Dains defection to Pheresa. She had lain there, 
wan of face, with her reddish-gold hair brushed and shining, and listened to him gravely. Tears had 
welled up in her brown eyes as he told her how Dain had betrayed her, and Gavril had pledged anew 
that he would never desert her, that he would do everything humanly possible to find her cure.

 Yet hardly had they set out from Thirst to resume their journey when another guardian had collapsed. 
Despite Noncires previous avowal that he could replace a guardian if necessary, he immediately claimed 
that he was too fatigued from the effort to open Dains mind to be able to serve the lady. Gavril, 
disgusted by the cardinals cowardice, made no effort to coerce him. He knew the spell could not work 
under duress.

 Thus far, Pheresa still lived, even with the spell out of balance, but at night her moans and weeping 
could be heard across the sleeping camp. She looked so ill and hollow-eyed that Gavril could hardly 
bear to visit her these days. He no longer knew how to alleviate her fears.

 Well be in Nether soon, he told her day after day while the belief in her eyes gradually dimmed.

 At first shed tried to ask him questions about the remedy the Netherans promised. What was it? How 
would it work? But in the last week, shed grown too weak to bother. She only stared at him with grave, 
pain-filled eyes, clearly no longer trusting him to save her. And what if he did fail? For the first time in his 
life, Gavril was not entirely sure he would triumph. He found such a possibility disquieting, and it was 
difficult not to resent the lady for having brought him to such a state. If Pheresa died soon, in a way it 
would almost be a relief.

 Such thoughts shamed him, making him pray long into the nights in atonement. But sweet mercy of 
Tomias, he was tired of responsibility, tired of this long trek, tired of the endless small difficulties of 
traveling with an invalid, tired of the boring exhaustion of it all.

 Nevertheless, here he was, pressing on at the head of their company. Nether was a country as bleak 
and forbidding as anything hed ever seen. The snow was driving harder in their faces today, and Gavril 


had never been colder in his life. There was no way to get warm, not even when they set up camp for the 
night. No fire, tent, or blankets could ward off the numbing cold, which seemed to freeze the very 
marrow of his bones. Aching, tired, and miserable, he slept poorly, if at all, yet he kept forcing himself 
and his men onward.

had never been colder in his life. There was no way to get warm, not even when they set up camp for the 
night. No fire, tent, or blankets could ward off the numbing cold, which seemed to freeze the very 
marrow of his bones. Aching, tired, and miserable, he slept poorly, if at all, yet he kept forcing himself 
and his men onward.

 Worse, time was running out. Hed intended to reach Grov and return home to Savroix by Selwinmas, 
but that holy day was drawing nigh. After it would come winter. He had to get out of this Thodforsaken 
realm before the weather became too harsh for travel. The thought of being trapped here all winter filled 
him with dread.

 As for Dain, ever since his escape from Thirst Hold in the dead of night, along with one of his 
protectors, du Maltie, and one other Thirst knight, there had been no sight of him, no trail to follow, no 
whisper along the border that hed been sighted. It was as though the forest had swallowed him. And no 
matter how much Gavril craved vengeance, there was no time to spare in hunting him down.

 Noncire swore that Dain would forever go in want of his wits, but Gavril did not believe him. Gavril no 
longer believed much of anything the cardinal said. Dain hadnt been too insane to escape Thirst or elude 
them since. Gavril believed that Dain must carry blasphemous protections of magic and evil that gave him 
more lives than a cat. 

Blessed Thod, Gavril prayed now, have mercy on me and let me find this creature, that I may 
destroy him once and for all. Your highness.

 The voice of Lord Barthomew intruded on Gavrils thoughts. Seeing the church knight commander 
blocking the road, Gavril reined up with a scowl. Around him, his squires and Lord Kress drew rein as 
well.

 Yes? Gavril snapped.

 The Netherans, your highness. Theyve passed along a message that we approach Grov.

 Gavrils ill temper fell away, and excitement made him straighten in his saddle. Where?

 Lord Barthomew pointed, and Gavril saw Commander Ognyoska of their Netheran escort a short 
distance ahead, beckoning to him. Since theyd crossed the border, this large, armed force of Netheran 
soldiers had traveled with them, claiming to be escorts. Ognyoska said that he and his men rode along for 
Gavrils protection, but Gavril considered their presence an insult, most especially since there were 
exactly the same number of Netheran knights to match his church soldiers.

 But right now, Gavril forgot his resentment and felt overwhelming relief at having finally reached their 
destination. Spurring his horse forward, he joined Ognyoska.

 A burly, taciturn man with a thick mustache and a tall hat of black beyar hide, Ognyoska wore a cloak 
of shaggy fur. His chain mail was rusted in places, his horse was a spindly, rough-coated nag, and his 
marriage ring was tarnished. When he grinned at Gavril, he showed a mouthful of rotten teeth.

 Pointing ahead into the swirling snow, the commander spoke with more animation than hed showed in 
days. His translator, a scrawny man going bald and suffering from a perpetual head cold, sniffed and said, 
Compliments to your royal highness. The city lies ahead. Permit Commander Ognyoska to show you the 
vista.

 Glancing at Lord Kress and Lord Barthomew to make sure they stayed close by, Gavril spurred his 
black stallion ahead of the pennon-bearers to follow Ognyoska to the top of a small rise.

 As Gavril drew rein there, the wind died down for a moment and the snow stopped swirling in his 
face.

 Ognyoska gestured proudly. Grov! he stated.

 A valley bathed in misty white lay before them. Bordered on one side by the half-frozen Velga River, 
the city sprawled across the valley floor with clusters of wooden houses painted in garish colors, gilded 
church spires, and defense towers of stone. Although it was barely mid-afternoon, dusk was drawing 


near and many windows already shone with light. The falling snow blurred the scene, softening the 
outlines of the buildings. Plenty of people could be seen thronging the streets of frozen mud, and barges 
bobbed on the river amidst small ice floes. Across the city, rising high atop a bluff that overlooked the 
river, stood the palace of Nethers kings, a fortress of massive stone walls and tall towers wreathed in 
mist and snow flurries.

near and many windows already shone with light. The falling snow blurred the scene, softening the 
outlines of the buildings. Plenty of people could be seen thronging the streets of frozen mud, and barges 
bobbed on the river amidst small ice floes. Across the city, rising high atop a bluff that overlooked the 
river, stood the palace of Nethers kings, a fortress of massive stone walls and tall towers wreathed in 
mist and snow flurries.

 But a new problem loomed before him. Part of the cost of Pheresas cure was to deliver Dain alive 
into the hands of Cardinal Pernal. How, Gavril wondered bleakly, was he to explain to the Netheran 
cardinal that he would not be delivering Dain as promised? Hed received no communications from 
Pernal in days, and he had not wanted to send news to the Netheran that Dain had escaped through the 
incompetency of his men.

 Well, he couldnt repine over it now. There must be something else the Netherans would accept in 
Dains place, he told himself. Perhaps the wagons of costly gifts would be enough. 
Swinging his gaze away from the city, Gavril looked at Ognyoska. Where are we to go? To the 
palace? 
The translator chattered between them. No, no, he said earnestly. Not enough space for all in King 
Muncels court. Your highness will lodge in fine house. All has been made ready for comfort. 
House? Gavril stiffened in affront. Whose house? How dare you suggest that I take up residence in 
some ordinary dwelling? I 
Ognyoska spoke again in Netheran, his words coming rapid-fire. The translator blew his red nose and 
sniffed miserably.

 Your highness mistakes my words, he said with a mendicant smile and a little bow from atop his 
donkey. This is house of very fine personage. Very fine. Will be satisfactory much. It belongs to family 
of Count Mradvior and is grand indeed. You will see.

 Scowling, Gavril did not see why he should not stay in the palace or even reside with King Muncel in 
his stronghold at Belrad. However, when Ognyoska shouted orders they moved forward, following the 
road down into the city as twilight closed about them.

 With wolves howling in the woods and nightfall making the cold bite even deeper, all Gavril could think 
about was getting indoors and finding fire and food.

 Grov itself was an ominous place, however. As he drew near, Gavril felt the strangeness of the city 
reach out to him. Unease prickled along his spine and he rode with one hand clutching the hilt of his 
sword.

 Since theyd entered Nether, hed resumed carrying Tanen-gard, despite Noncires protests. Gavril 
felt as though a missing piece of him had been restored, making him whole again, for the sword was no 
longer silent. It muttered constantly in the back of his mind, a closer companion than even his protector.

 Just now, the blade was glowing white inside its scabbard, which meant Nonkind lurked nearby. 
Dry-mouthed, he stared hard into every deep shadow and sat tense and alert in his saddle, certain that 
death was going to attack.

 In silence, the townspeople pushed back to let them pass.

 No cheers of greeting were raised, and yet the crowdominously quietgrew ever larger as they 
passed. Hordes of beggars followed at their heels. With the grim-faced Netheran knights trotting at front 
and rear, and the church soldiers angry still at having these foreign nursemaids, as they called them, it was 
a solemn procession indeed that wended its way through the fetid streets.

 Garbage and filth lay where it had been tossed. Starving mongrels scavenged what they could, snarling 
as they ran from the horsemen. Most of the buildings Gavril saw stood in disrepair. Some had been grand 
in the past but were now deserted. Weeds grew up through broken steps and snow drifted in through 
open windows.

 They crossed a fine square, paved in stone and surrounded by beautiful villas, but whatever statues 


had once stood on a trio of bases in the center had been pulled down and smashed to bits.

had once stood on a trio of bases in the center had been pulled down and smashed to bits.

What have I done? he asked himself.

 In the very heart of this dreadful city, he found himself riding at last through tall gates of intricately 
worked iron and entered a compound of ornate gardens, pools, and fountains blanketed with snow and 
ice.

 The house itself was an immense structure that towered at least four stories overhead. Broad steps of 
pale stone jutted forth from its red-painted entrance, and mythical creatures carved from finest agate 
guarded either side.

 Servants clad in livery came out to greet them with welcoming smiles and steaming flagons of hot 
drink. Distracted by the spiced and rather appealing brew, which warmed him from the first sip, Gavril 
saw Ognyoskas knights close the iron gates just as the crowd surged forward. Now the peculiar silence 
was broken, and many people howled like wolves, reaching through the gates with imploring hands and 
crying out words Gavril did not understand.

 Shouting, the guards drove the horde of people back with pikes, for it seemed they might break open 
the gates if left unchecked. Some even attempted to climb over, only to be knocked off by the guards.

 It made no sense to Gavril, who turned his back on the sight and went inside, leaving the church 
soldiers to be directed to barracks in another wing of the compound. Stout men came forth to gently 
carry Lady Pheresas glass encasement up the steps, which had been swept clean of snow.

 Warmth was Gavrils first impression as he strode through the tall doors. The air was so comfortable 
he immediately felt overdressed in his gloves and heavy cloak. A long vestibule painted in garish colors of 
scarlet, black, and blue stretched before him, but he saw no hearth or burning fire. Puzzled at first and 
fearing the use of some magic, he soon realized the warmth was radiating from a tall construction of 
glazed tiles standing in one corner.

 Unctuous servants ushered him forward into a spacious chamber of regal proportions. The ceiling, 
carved and gilded in a riot of creatures and floral motifs, soared high overhead. 
Noncire, puffing in his fur-lined cloak, his long black traveling robes snow-soaked at the hem, 
waddled up beside Gavril and smiled in approval as he glanced around. Very fine.

 Indeed, Gavril could find no fault with the soft carpets underfoot, the exotic woods which paneled the 
walls, or the marquetry and carving of the furniture. More servants appeared like magic to anticipate his 
every wish. And so efficient were they that he felt instantly at home. His initial misgivings faded.

 Lady Pheresa had been set down in the center of the room. Her serving woman hovered nearby, and 
Gavril strode over to check on his lady. Pulling back a corner of the blanket covering her encasement, he 
found her either asleep or unconscious; her skin was pasty white, with a light sheen of perspiration. He 
wanted to wake her and tell her the good news of their arrival, but just then the guardians filed in silently 
to surround her, and Gavril retreated from them.

 Throwing off his cloak and gloves, he accepted another flagon of the spiced drink and stood near the 
tile stove to bask in its wonderful warmth. What a luxury to feel the frozen mar-row in his bones thawing. 
For the first time since hed left Savroix, he felt warm enough.

 A gray-haired Netheran, clad in a velvet tunic trimmed with islean fur and a heavy gold chain studded 
with jewels, appeared and bowed deeply to Gavril. 
I am Lord Mradvior, he announced in heavily accented Mandrian while Gavrils brows rose in both 
astonishment and affront. All is to your comfort, yes? All is to your liking? 
Gavril set down his flagon and turned his back on the man. leaving Noncire to quietly explain 
Mandrian protocol to him.

 Ah, yes, Mradvior said. He smiled, but there was a flash of anger in his dark eyes. I understand. 
But your highness is a guest in my house, by orders of our esteemed majesty the king. I will, I think, 
introduce myself as I please.

 There was something slightly hostile in the mans tone. Still annoyed by his presumption, Gavril turned 


around with the intention of ordering his men to usher Mradvior out.

around with the intention of ordering his men to usher Mradvior out.

 Where are the church knights? he asked sharply. Kress! Where is Lord Barthomew?

 Your knights have been shown to their quarters, Mradvior said before Kress could reply. There 
they will stay. Your highness has no need of armed men to protect him while he is the guest of our most 
excellent majesty.

 Gavril felt uneasy. He realized he was deep inside a foreign kingdom, inside a strange and foreign city, 
now isolated from his own men and at the dubious mercy of his hosts. For the first time he understood his 
fathers fears and why Verence had been so reluctant to let him come here.

 However, Gavril refused to let himself be rattled. Facing Count Mradvior with all the icy disdain he 
could summon, he said, Your hospitality is most gracious. When will I see King Muncel?

 Ah, very soon. Very soon. An audience has been arranged.

 His majesty is always pressed by the many demands of his high estate, but he, too, is anxious to meet. 

In the meantime, I am to see to your every comfort. If you wish anything 
Lady Pheresa, Gavril cut in. Her comfort is paramount. She has need, at this moment, of her 
physicians. 
Of course. Her affliction is surely most curious. As he spoke, Mradvior walked over to Pheresa and 
swept the blanket to the floor. He stared at her, his eyes gleaming. Well, well, a beauty. 
Stand away from her! Gavril commanded furiously. How dare you invade her privacy in such a 
way.

 Mradvior ignored his protest and walked around the circle of guardians, now and then tapping one of 
them on the shoulder. Gavril saw one of these men, Dains peculiar physician Sulein, twitch violently and 
sway where he knelt.

 Alarm filled Gavrils throat. He stepped forward with his hand outstretched. You must not distract the 
guardians, Count Mradvior. Her life depends on their complete concentration. 
Really? Mradviors thick brows shot up, and he smiled. This is most fascinating. I will tell the king 
of these details. They will amuse him, I am sure. 
Gavrils hands curled into fists. He could not believe this creatures insolence. But without his men to 
put Mradvior out, Gavril could do little to silence him. 
The ladys affliction, Gavril said through his teeth, is surely too tragic to afford amusement to 
anyone of civility and kindness. 
Mradvior tossed back his head in a bellow of laughter so loud several of the guardians swayed. Gavril 
watched them in alarm, wondering how to get this idiot away from them. 
Ah, your highness, Mradvior said at last, wiping his eyes. He laughed again. You will find that his 
majesty is neither civil nor kind.

 If you have any regard for the ladys malady, please grant her some privacy and quiet, Gavril said, 
resenting having to plead on her behalf. Hed never begged for anything in his life. She needs her 
physicians at once. The journey has taken its toll on her.

 Do you want her moved again? Mradvior asked, looking surprised. This chamber is surely good 
enough. It is warm and dry. 
She requires a solitary chamber where no one will disturb her and the guardians, Gavril said 
impatiently. Please.

 Mradvior shrugged and issued a series of rapid orders in Netheran. Servants came to lift Pheresas 
encasement and carry her away, with the silent guardians filing out in her wake. Megala followed 
fearfully.

 Noncire leaned over Gavrils shoulder. I am not sure this separation is wise, your highness, he 
murmured into Gavrils ear. Perhaps it would have been better to keep her close by. 
Gavril glared at him. Your advice comes too late. 


 Noncires answer was cut off by Mradvior, who said, There! She will be placed in my wifes 
apartments. Perhaps she will amuse the ladies of my household, for they will be curious to see her style of 
hair and gown.

 Noncires answer was cut off by Mradvior, who said, There! She will be placed in my wifes 
apartments. Perhaps she will amuse the ladies of my household, for they will be curious to see her style of 
hair and gown.

 My physician attends her now, Mradvior said with a shrug. It is enough.

 Gavril shut his mouth on more protests. Then I wish to bathe and dine. Afterwards I will write letters. 
Have you messengers that will carry them for me? Or may I dispatch my own men?

 All will be seen to, your highness.

 The evasive answer set Gavrils teeth on edge. If he was a prisoner, he wished Mradvior would come 
out and say so openly.

 Please notify Cardinal Pernal of my arrival. As soon as possible, he must come to me.

 Mradviors smile faded. He pressed his palms together and sighed. Regrettably, his eminence is 
away.

 Where?

 Far from here. He has gone on a long journey.

 And when will he return?

 For some reason this question seemed to amuse Mradvior very much. Not for a very long time.

 But I have been exchanging letters with him, Gavril protested. We were engaged in negotiations 
for

 Ah, yes, negotiations for the return of the pretender, Mrad-vior broke in with a bow. But I am 
informed by Commander Ognyoska that the pretender is not with you.

 Unfortunately, no. Gavril shot a look of blame at Noncire. He escaped us.

 Pity. Mradviors smile disappeared, and his dark eyes bored into Gavril with implacable force. 
Ognyoska had orders to give the pretender a proper greeting at the border. His majesty will be... 
disappointed.

 An involuntary shiver ran up Gavrils spine. It could not be helped. 
Oh, you need not make your excuses to me, your highness. It is King Muncel you will be held 
accountable to. 
Anger flashed through Gavril. He tossed his head. I am accountable to no one, Count Mradvior. As 
Heir to the Realm of Mandria, I 
Oh, your highness is of very great importance, Mradvior agreed. Very great. Yes, yes, this is 

understood.

 Your highness, Kress whispered hoarsely at Gavrils shoulder. This feels like a trap.

 Gavril was amazed it had taken Kress this long to grasp the obvious. Glaring at his protector, all he 
said was Netheran manners are poor, but they do understand the rules of safe conduct and hospitality.

 Yes, yes! We do understand, Mradvior said with a smile. You will be treated very well during your 
stay here. Of course, how long you stay depends on many factors.

 The health of the lady, Gavril said sharply. If she can be cured quickly, I hope to depart before

 Mradvior shook his head as though she were of no importance. Not the lady, no. You will stay as 
long as it takes King Verence to become generous.

 Stiffening with alarm, Gavril gripped his sword hilt. What do you mean?

 Mradvior gave him a sly grin. Yes, yes, I think he will be anxious to see his son and only heir come 

home again. We Netherans are not fools, your highness. When you give us such a ripe opportunity, how 
can we resist grabbing it? 
Speak plainly, sir. Say what you mean! But Mradvior only laughed. 
We had an agreement, Gavril said angrily. We came here under stated truce and a flag of 
pilgrimage to save the ladys life.

 Well, shell be a curiosity for the court, I am sure, Mradvior said with a shrug. Everyone is agog to 
see her. We have heard the rumors of her beauty. This spell which keeps her alive is strange magic 
indeed, which the king wants to study.

 Take me to King Muncel at once! Gavril commanded. 


 When it is time for your appointed audience, of course.

 When it is time for your appointed audience, of course.

 When it is time for your appointed audience.

 Gavril muttered under his breath and strode for the door. The guards who stood in front of it, 
however, refused to budge. Gavril glared at them, trying hard to keep his dignity even as his heart started 
pounding.

 Let me pass! he commanded.

 They do not obey your highnesss orders, Mradvior said from behind him. Your highness may have 
full run of my house, but your highness may not leave.

 Gavril stiffened and turned back to face him. Am I a prisoner here?

 Mradvior spread wide his hands with a shrug. I prefer the word guest.

 You cannot hold me. To do so is tantamount to a declaration of war.

 Yes, yes, of course, Mradvior replied. But since King Verence has refused agreement to the terms 
of the new treaty, Nether and Mandria are no longer friends.

 Gavril listened to this news and felt sick. Was this why his father wanted him to turn back? Why had 
his message not said so in plain explanation? But even worse, what had possessed Verence to be so 
stubborn at this delicate time?

 Still, Mradvior was saying merrily, what do the terms matter? You will bring a very fine ransom that 
will swell King Muncels treasury. Of course if your father does not act quickly, you cannot be released 
before the deep cold, and then Im afraid it will be thaw-time before you can journey homeward. Do you 
think the lady will live that long?

 Kress! Gavril shouted, and sprang forward as he drew

 Tanengard. Behind him, he heard Kress draw steel. His protector took on some of the guards, who 
shouted in Netheran as they engaged in combat.

 Gavril charged Mradvior, who carried no weapon other than a small dagger. Although he wanted to 
run the villain through, Gavril intended to hold him at swordpoint and force a way to freedom.

 Noncire called out a warning that Gavril ignored.

 Just as he reached the count, however, an invisible force slammed into him. Tanengard grew too heavy 
to hold, and as he went staggering back, he dropped the sword.

 Across the room, Kress screamed in agony. Gavril looked over his shoulder in time to see one of the 
guards yanking his sword from the protectors chest. Blood spurted, and Kress crumpled to the floor.

 Looking around wildly, Gavril found himself entirely on his own. He lunged toward Tanengard, but the 
invisible force struck him again, and knocked him away from the sword.

 Fearful of this magic, he retreated a step and desperately tried to remember his Sebein training in how 
to properly channel Tanengards special powers. If he could just close his eyes and concentrate a 
moment, he would remember how to

 In the name of Tomias, begone! Noncire shouted sternly, and the memory shattered in Gavrils 
mind.

 Enraged, he turned on the cardinal. This is no time for piety! How dare you interfere!

 And how dare you risk your soul when your very life is in mortal danger? the cardinal retorted. Do 
not reach for that weapon in anger, your highness. I warn you most urgently. It will consume you as it did 
before.

 Gavril opened his mouth to argue, but by then Mradvior had picked up Tanengard and was examining 
it with interest.

 A magicked blade, he said, pursing his lips. I thought Mandrians never carried them.

 You thought wrong, Gavril said proudly.

 Noncire clutched his sleeve. Have a care, highness. Furious with him, Gavril shook off his grasp. He 
sprang at Mradvior again, intending to wrest Tanengard from his hand.

 This time the invisible force walloped him so hard the world grew dim. Only his quick grab at a table 
kept him from falling.

 Noncire gripped his shoulders to steady him. Desist, I beg you! He is using magic and you will only 


do yourself harm.

do yourself harm.

 Chuckling, Mradvior came forward and handed Tanengard to him hilt-first. My master-at-arms 
would be interested to know where this weapon was forged. It has an unusual vibrancy in the blade. 
Does it not affect you? Some men go mad when they carry something flawed like this.

 As Gavrils hand closed on the hilt, he felt Tanengards rage ignite from his own, and he was filled with 
an overwhelming urge to strike. With one blow, he could send Mradviors head rolling across the soft 
carpet.

 Gavril! Noncire said urgently. In the name of Tomias, take care! He wants you to act rashly.

 The prince bared his teeth, but he saw the taunting challenge in Mradviors dark eyes, and knew that 
Noncires warning was true.

 Struggling to master his emotions, Gavril slid Tanengard into its scabbard. He could not fight 
spellcasting, no matter how much he might want to try. He must bide his time for the right moment, and 
then, by Thod, he would run Mradvior through.

 Looking disappointed at his restraint, Mradvior beckoned to a wide-eyed servant. His highness looks 
fatigued. Conduct him and his eminence to their apartments. Oh, and clean up this mess.

 Feeling hollow, Gavril walked past Kresss body to follow the servant through a door and up a long 
flight of stairs to an elegant suite of rooms. Gavril hardly spared a look for his new surroundings. He 
seemed unable to concentrate. He had been tricked. Hed been made into a fool. First by Dain, and now 
...

 Highness, the servant said, handing him what looked like a clear stone. Speak aloud where you 
wish to go, and the stone will guide you.

 Great Tomias! Gavril said in startlement. He dropped the stone, which bounced on the thick rug and 
rolled partway under a chair.

 Clucking in distress, the servant retrieved it, seemed about to repeat his instructions, then bowed and 
carefully set the stone on a small table of inlaid wood. Bowing again, he backed out past Noncire, and 
vanished.

 Gavrils fear rushed up and over him like a gigantic wave. He shut his eyes, fighting the desire to 
scream aloud. What in Thods name have we come to? he whispered.

 We have come to betrayal and villainy, Noncire said softly. Shrugging off his cloak, he looked at the 
ornate furnishings and heavy hangings. Well, Gavril, your pride has brought you here. Since you refused 
to listen to anyones counsel except your own, you

 Oh, end your recriminations, Gavril said sharply, recovering from his momentary weakness. He 
began to pace back and forth. I take no blame for this. I came here in good faith. Is it my fault that I 
have been betrayed?

 Yes.

 Gavril glared at him. How dare you say so!

 Why should I not tell the truth? I am equally a prisoner here, but no one will ransom me, I think.

 Gavril resumed pacing. Another wave of indignation swept over him. We had Muncels assurance, 
his word!

 This situation cannot be entirely unexpected, Noncire said scornfully. The risk has always been a 
factor. King Verence feared something like this

 My father is the very reason we are now prisoners! Gavril said furiously. I blame him entirely for 
this.

 Noncires small black eyes turned stony with disappointment. Of course you do.

 Why dont you make yourself useful? Instead of casting blame, you can better serve me by finding a 
way to reach Cardinal Pernal andwhat? Why do you shake your head at me?

 Did your highness not understand Mradviors hints? Cardinal Pernal is surely dead.

 You imagine things! Gavril said with a sharp laugh of disbelief. Why should he be dead?

 Because in this realm, enemies of the king vanish, never to be seen again. 


 Fie! We know Pernal to be Muncels chief spiritual adviser. He has been so for years. You can 
hardly label him one of Muncels enemies.

 Fie! We know Pernal to be Muncels chief spiritual adviser. He has been so for years. You can 
hardly label him one of Muncels enemies.

 Then find someone else to aid us.

 Noncires fat face never changed expression. I think it must be your highness who finds a way out of 
this predicament.

 How so?

 When you meet with King Muncel

 If I meet with him, Gavril said glumly.

 I believe you shall. He will want to gloat over his catch, if nothing else.

 Gavril ground his teeth together and abandoned this useless conversation. The fact of having been 
tricked made him boil. That Muncel dared betray him seemed inconceivable. Never in his life had Gavril 
met with more disrespect or insult than today. And yet, had his father not bungled the treaty with Nether, 
none of this would have happened. Gavrils eyes narrowed. It seemed Verence wasnt as concerned for 
his sons welfare as he pretended. Well, let him pay a hefty ransom for their return. Perhaps that would 
teach him to be less careless with his treaties in the future.

 It is said that King Muncel has an uncertain temper, Noncire was saying. When you talk to him, 
take care that you do not arouse it.

 Gavril turned on him impatiently. I do not require your counsel on this.

 I think you do! Noncire said sharply. All our lives are at risk here.

 He will not dare kill me, Gavril said haughtily.

 Noncires fat face turned red. It was one of the few times he had ever displayed his temper. You 
might consider the safety of those you have brought here with you, he said very quietly indeed.

 Gavril shrugged. Do not lose your nerve simply because

 Mradvior has wielded a bit of magic. Muncel and Mradvior know that if / am harmed, my father will 
send no ransom.

 And your men are therefore expendable? Noncire said in rebuke. Like Lord Kress?

 I cannot help the man now, Gavril said in irritation. What is the point of dwelling on his loss?

 And Lady Pheresa?

 Ah, yes. I must see that she gets the care she needs. You will work to negotiate our freedom.

 With whom?

 Gavril shrugged. You must have allies in the church here. Contact them.

 And if I cannot?

 Stop arguing with me, and do as you are told! Gavril shouted. I wish to Thod Id never brought you 
along.

 I wish to Thod I had not come.

 Hot, angry silence fell between them. Gavril looked at his former tutor with contempt. Although the 
man had once seemed to be so intelligent and clever, hed proven himself both spineless and weak.

 Youre here at your own insistence, he reminded the cardinal icily.

 Someone must protect your soul. Noncire pointed at Tanen-gard. Your blasphemy in carrying that 
vile weapon puts you in mortal danger.

 Without it to protect us, we

 Did you not hear Mradvior say it will eventually drive you mad?

 Worry touched Gavril for only a moment before he dismissed it. Why should I believe what that 
villain says? Tanengard will protect us from the evil here.

 Tanengard will only draw you into the darkness. Have care

 Be silent! Gavril roared, losing his temper entirely. I will hear no more on the matter, lord cardinal! 
Must I use this weapon to silence you forever?

 Noncire stood very still, his face as immobile as stone. For a long moment he stared at Gavril. I have 
lost you, he said sorrowfully. All the training and instruction in the faith that I 


 gave you since your infancy is now as nothing. You are lost, Gavril, and I cannot get you back.

 gave you since your infancy is now as nothing. You are lost, Gavril, and I cannot get you back.

 In cold, disapproving silence, Noncire drew the sign of the Circle between them and went.

 Dain and his companions were five days into the forest of central Nether and looking for a place to 
camp for the night when the attack came.

 It had been overcast all day. No snow was falling, but the air smelled damp and frosty. It was bitterly 
cold, and as dusk drew nigh, shadows began to pool beneath the trees. Keebacks flew overhead, calling 
their plaintive kee ... kee ... kee. A young danselk, his antlers spreading to only two points, foraged 
noisily in a stand of colorful harlberries until he heard their approach; panic-stricken, the danselk flung 
himself from the thicket and raced away.

 Damne! Sir Terent said. An easy shot, that, if I had a bow.

 Do you want to course him? Thum asked.

 And do what? Stab him with my sword? Sir Terent snorted. Nay. Hes gone already.

 Meeting Thums smiling eyes, Dain gave his squire a small nod of approval. That was the most Sir 
Terent had said in days. Ever since Sir Polquins death, Sir Terent had gone about in a black mood 
indeed. Gone were his sunny, gap-toothed smiles. Instead, his brow was often furrowed, and grim lines 
bracketed his mouth. Dain left him alone to his grieving for his friend.

 There was no comfort to offer; nothing would bring Sir Polquin back.

 At present, Alexeika and Sir Alard had ridden ahead, scouting for a campsite. Dain, Sir Terent, and 
Thum allowed their horses to plod along at a walk. It was getting more and more difficult to find forage 
for the animals, and their own food supplies had dwindled to whatever they could manage to hunt on the 
way. Early this morning, Sir Terents traps had caught two hares. Tied to his saddle, they dangled and 
bobbed with the promise of tasty eating tonight.

 Dains head was aching a little, in the way it did occasionally since Cardinal Noncire had tried to force 
open his mind. As a result, he wasnt alert. All he could think of was stopping for the night, eating 
something hot, and not moving until his headache eased.

 Had he felt well, they might have had some warning before gray shadows came flying at them from the 
trees.

 Larger than bats and much faster, two of the creatures zoomed over Dains head. He ducked 
instinctively and heard Thum shout in alarm. Drawing rein, they all bunched together, ducking and 
swatting the things in bewilderment. Sir Terent drew his sword with an oath, but he could not swing it fast 
enough to strike whatever these things were that darted and circled.

 His headache forgotten, Dain tried to contact them with his mind, but was brushed aside. One came 
right at him, and Dain ducked just in time.

 Morde a day! Sir Terent swore, swinging his sword in vain. What are they?

 Nothing of this world, Dain said as one struck his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he caught a 
confused impression of gray fur and beady malevolent eyes. Its claws were like needles, and with an 
oath, he knocked it off. Before it hit the ground, however, it turned over in midair and suddenly zoomed 
away.

 Thum screamed, arching his back, and Dain saw that one of the small gray shapes had fastened itself 
to his shoulder. Get it off me! Thum shouted. Damne! Its He halted in mid-sentence and 
screamed again.

 Unsure what to do, Dain drew Truthseeker and plunged its tip into the creature. Flames burst the thing 
apart, and the others flew off with tiny screeches just as Sir Alard came galloping out of the trees, with 
Alexeika clinging behind him.

 Sir Alard had his sword drawn. His eyes were on fire and he was ready for battle. What is it? What 
happened? he demanded.

 Dain had no time to answer him. Leaning over from his saddle, he pounded out the flames burning 
through Thums cloak, using his gloved hands to smother the fire. Thum was huddled over his horses 
neck, moaning softly. Dain stopped slapping flames long enough to give him a light shake.

 Are you much hurt? Did it bite you? Thum, are you hurt? 


 Thum didnt answer. At that moment, the fire in his cloak shot back to life, nearly scorching Dains 
hand.

 Thum didnt answer. At that moment, the fire in his cloak shot back to life, nearly scorching Dains 
hand.

 These damned swords, he grumbled.  Tis against Writ to put magic in a blade, aye, and I can see 
why.

 By then they were all off their horses, except Alexeika, who remained on Sir Alards steed. Holding 
her daggers in her hands, she kept a sharp watch on the sky and trees around them.

 We must leave this place, she announced. Now.

 Dain glanced up at her. She was an odd maiden, to be sure, with her brusque manners and masculine 
clothing. Her tongue was sharp, and she was quick to criticize, quick to voice her opinion, whether asked 
for or not. But since that first night, when theyd argued so fiercely, shed taken care not to contradict 
Dains orders. On his part, he tried to talk to her only when it was absolutely necessary.

 He noticed now that she was looking tense, even a little frightened. That increased his sense of unease.

 It is not good to be here, she said. They are a warning.

 What are they?

 Krenjin. Imps. Theyre dangerous.

 Dain had never heard of the creatures. But although they were not Nonkind, they were certainly 
hostile. What kind of warning? 
She glanced overhead again with such apprehension that Dain looked skyward too, half-expecting to 

see another formation of the creatures in renewed attack.

 Alexeika, what kind of warning? Against what?

 I dont know. She gestured impatiently. We must go!

 By now Sir Terent and Sir Alard were helping Thum to his feet. The squires face was bone white 
beneath his freckles. His hazel-green eyes were round and wide with shock.

 All right? Dain asked him worriedly. Can you ride?

 He gave Dain an unsteady nod. Aye.

 Well tend him later! Alexeika called out. Only let us get away from here!

 Dain had many questions about these mysterious krenjin, but he would ask them later. While Thum 
was helped back astride his horse, Dain swung into Soleils saddle.

 They came at us from the direction we were heading, he said to Alexeika.

 She frowned. Then lets turn aside. Well circle east a ways before we head north again.

 Mindful of Thum, who looked none too steady in the saddle, Dain kicked his horse to a trot and 
ducked beneath the bare branches of a tree entwined with woody vines. The others followed him, and 
for a moment there was only the sound of their horses crashing through the snow-crusted undergrowth.

 Then Dain sensed something ahead, something he did not know or recognize. Fearing another attack 
of krenjin, he turned Soleil aside, but an enormous gray beyar came loping across his path.

 Soleil reared in fright, and suddenly they were surrounded by more of the huge, shaggy animals.

 By the time Dain had his panicked horse back under control, it was too late to run. Only then did he 
notice that some of the beyars had riders. Slim, cloaked figures, they were but half-seen in the gloomy 
shadows among the trees.

 Merciful Thod, Sir Terent whispered hoarsely, what lies before us now?

 But Dain started grinning in relief. Eld-folk! he said with a laugh. We have found them.

 Sir Terents eyes shifted and darted warily. Looks more like theyve found us. Aye, and caught us 
fast.

 Theres nothing to fear, Dain proclaimed. For the first time since hed sneaked out of Thirst Hold via 
its secret passageway and waited long, bleak hours in the darkness until Sir Terent, Thum, and Sir Alard 
rode through the gates at dawns light, concealed among Lord Renalds small squadron of knights, Dain 
felt optimism. No matter how much the others had doubted the course hed set them on, hed always 


believed that he could find the elusive eldin. And now that he had, he felt that many of his troubles were 

believed that he could find the elusive eldin. And now that he had, he felt that many of his troubles were 

 Raising his hand in peace, he called out a greeting.

 Take care, sire, Alexeika warned softly.

 Ignoring her, Dain kicked his trembling horse forward.

 A slim, short arrow hurtled through the air, missing him by inches. He halted, his heart pounding fast.

 In Thods name, sire! Sir Terent called out in alarm. Come back!

 Be still, Dain told his protector, and stared at the silent, hostile eldin around him. He wished he could 
see their faces more clearly in the darkening shadows. Again he raised his hand. I am Faldain, he said 
loudly. Son of King Tobeszijian and Queen Nereisse. I come seeking my mothers people.

 When no one responded, Dain frowned. I bring no harm to you, he said. I seek my mothers 
people, and come with friendship and good intentions.

 Finally the beyars parted, and a single rider approached Dain. His mount was a stout, black-furred 
beast with a band of white at its throat. When the beyar halted in front of Dain, its rider pushed back his 
hood with a frown.

 Dain found himself looking into a pair of amber eyes flecked with glints of silver. The elds hairblond 
as tasseled grain fell nearly to his slim shoulders, and the pale locks twisted and writhed constantly as 
though a wind blew through them.

 A pang of familiarity shot through Dains heart. Thias hair had been that same pale color. It, too, had 
moved and curled incessantly as though possessing life of its own. He wished fiercely that she were here 
at his side for this reunion with their mothers people.

 The elds face was triangular, with pronounced cheekbones and a narrow chin. A single gold earring 
dangled from one of his pointed ears. Beneath his cloak, he was clad in a fur-lined jerkin and leggings of 
soft, fawn-colored leather.

 You call yourself Faldain, son of Tobeszijian, he replied at last when he had finished his scrutiny of 
Dain. How will you prove it?

 Dain frowned. How will you test me?

 The eld glanced at the darkening sky and shrugged. In silence he started to turn his beyar around.

 Wait! Dain called out desperately. Please. Ive come seeking your help.

 You wear man-stink and think man-thoughts, the eld said to him harshly. We no longer walk among 
men.

 I would change that, if I could, Dain said. I know many injustices have harmed the eld-folk, and 
hope to put an end to such wrongs.

 Then end them, the eld said indifferently. It is nothing to us.

 Wait! Dain called again. Please take me to your king. Let me plead my cause to him.

 Your cause has no meaning to us.

 How do you know? Dain asked.

 The eld glared at him. Leave this land. You have intruded on sacred ground, and your presence 
offends us. Take your men and go!

 I ask your pardon for our intrusion, Dain said quickly. I didnt know

 The markings are plain.

 Embarrassed by his ignorance, Dain sighed. I know only dwarf runes, not eldin ones.

 The eld gestured with contempt. We do not scratch runes into trees like barbarians. You were 
warned away by the kren-jin, but you heeded them not. You have intruded, and I will give you but one 
more chance to go with your lives intact.

 Sire, Sir Terent said softly behind him. You better back away now, nice and quiet.

 But Dain couldnt face defeat now, not when he was so close to achieving this part of his objective. 
He drew a deep breath. In the name of Solder, I

 Roaring, several of the beyars reared up on their hindquarters. Their eldin riders exchanged glances 
and called out sharply in a language Dain did not understand.

 Their leader narrowed his amber eyes at Dain. What do you know of the old favors? he demanded 


angrily. What do you call for in the name of the First?

angrily. What do you call for in the name of the First?

 Take me to your king, he said. I must talk to him.

 The eld scowled at him through the gathering shadows, then said something rapidly that Dain did not 
understand. He pointed behind Dain, and several eld riders closed in on Dains companions.

 No man may come past this point, the eld said to Dain. Your companions will stay here, guarded 
close.

 But

 There will be no trickery. The eld issued another order.

 One of his riders gripped Alexeikas arm and pulled her off Sir Alards horse.

 She twisted, kicking in midair, and landed on her feet with a stumble. Snarling something, she reached 
for her daggers.

 Alexeika, no! Dain commanded.

 She froze. Curly tendrils of her dark hair framed her face, and a long strand that had escaped her braid 

hung crookedly over one ear. Ill not be taken prisoner, she said gruffly. Never again will I be held 
against my will. 
The eld leader swung his attention back to Dain. You are both mixed-bloods. Is she your sister, 
Thiatereika? 
Again, a pang of regret stabbed through Dain. He was relieved that they knew him, even recognized 
him, but deeply saddened that Thia would never meet her mothers people. 
Thiatereika is not with us, Dain said formally. His throat felt like it had something wedged in it; he 
could not seem to make himself phrase his answer differently. 
Who is this maiden? the eld leader asked suspiciously. 
With a proud toss of her head, Alexeika walked up to stand at Dains stirrup. I am Alexeika, 
daughter of Prince Ilymir Volvn. My mother was half-eldin and from 
Both of you will come, the eld leader said. As he lifted his hand, tiny flames ignited from the tips of 

his fingers and cast a faint, pearly glow of light. Your mixed blood will enable you to go across.

 Sire! Sir Terent called in alarm. Dont go off with them! They mean you no good

 Sir Terent, hold your tongue! Dain ordered furiously. I will not hear you insult their hospitality.

 Aint hospitality to part you from your protector and haul you off at spearpoint, Sir Terent said 
stubbornly. 
I am in no danger, Dain retorted. They will treat me well. Bide here quietly until my return. I wont 
be long. 
I must go with you, Sir Terent said stubbornly, coming forward.

 The eld leader spoke a sharp command, and one of the riders bounded across Sir Terents path. 
Confronted by a huge, snarling beyar and a rider holding a javelin in readiness to throw, Sir Terent 
backed down.

 In Thods name, sire, take not this risk! he pleaded one last time.

 The eld leader was glaring at Dain; clearly the scant patience hed possessed was gone. They cannot 
enter our sacred groves, he said in outrage. They profane the very ground.

 I give you my word they will not stir from this place, Dain said, making sure he spoke loudly enough 
for Sir Terent and the others to hear him. They will cause no trouble. You have my bond on this.

 The eld leader looked at Dain with open distrust, but after a moment his scrutiny swung away. He 
nodded, then wheeled his beyar around. Very well. Come.

 Alexeika stepped forward, her blue-gray eyes large and luminous.

 Dain reached down to give her a hand so she could climb on Soleil behind him. She hesitated, but he 
gave her a quick smile, and something softened in her eyes. She climbed up behind his saddle with quick 
agility, and in that momentary clasp of their hands, he sensed the excitement that pulsed inside her.

 Dain felt the same way, for he was certain he was going to meet a part of his heritage and find out 


more about who he was. He would meet his family. There would be celebrations and long talks. And 
best of all, he would learn how to cure Pheresa.

more about who he was. He would meet his family. There would be celebrations and long talks. And 
best of all, he would learn how to cure Pheresa.

 In all directions he sensed only a silent stillness that made the hair prickle beneath his mail coif. He 
stayed alert in the saddle, riding with one hand resting on his sword hilt. Beneath him, Soleil pranced 
along like a coiled spring, ready to bolt at the least provocation.

 At last, they came to a stream, narrow and incredibly swift. The water rushed past a scrim of ice trying 
with little success to form along the edge of the bank. The riders around Dain parted to allow him to ride 
alongside their leader.

 A narrow bridge spanned the stream. Access to it was guarded by a pair of life-sized, carved wooden 
beyars standing on their hind legs.

 The leader dismounted with a gesture for Dain to do likewise. An eld rider hurried forward to take 
Soleils reins.

 Dain watched him with a frown, but the elds hands were gentle with the nervous horse. He murmured 
softly to Soleil as the eld led the steed away.

 Come, the leader said, then walked across the bridge, the sound of his footsteps masked by the 
rushing water.

 Dain walked between the carved beyars, and was startled to feel himself brushed by some essence of 
the animal, as though beyar spirit resided in these statues. Warily, he quickened his stride across the 
bridge planks, with Alexeika hurrying at his heels, and joined the leader on the other side of the stream.

 The moment his foot stepped off the bridge onto solid ground, the entire world changed with a 
suddenness that took him aback. Where before there had been nightfall, bone-numbing cold, and 
crunchy snow underfoot, now there was light as though a hundred lanterns had been lit at once. The 
warm breeze was fragrant with the scents of flowers and foliage. The trees towering around them were 
fully leafed in green, their canopies whispering and rustling softly.

 The ground itself was carpeted with moss that released a pungent, almost spicy aroma when stepped 
on. A path edged with glowstones wended its way toward a collection of dwellings close by, and Dain 
could hear the sound of voices and laughter.

 He glanced back across the bridge at the other side, but all lay shrouded in darkness, and he could see 
nothing now of the other riders or his horse.

 Alexeika was gazing around in wonder. Meeting his eyes, she smiled with the delight of a child.

 He felt himself relaxing in these gentle surroundings. This was all he could have imagined and more; 
once again he thought of his sister, and how wherever shed been present, plants grew lush and flowers 
bloomed with an intensely sweet fragrance.

 Their guide, however, looked as stern and unfriendly as ever. He gestured impatiently, and they 
followed him up the path to the village.

 Tidy dwellings enclosed within blooming hedges circled a grassy clearing. In its center stood a tree 
growing straight and true. Although it was fully leafed, it cast no shade. The same gentle clear light 
seemed to shine everywhere. Eldin children were at play, running and chasing a ball made of leather, but 
at the sight of Dain and Alexeika they stopped their game and scattered for home.

 Thats when Dain noticed an individual sitting on a wooden chair beneath the tree. The chair had 
sprouted leaves along its surface, as though the wood it was carved from remained alive and rooted. 
Robed in clothing of soft green, wearing shoes of supple leather, and holding a leafy staff in his hand, this 
individual had the distinctive eldin features. His face was unlined, but as Dain met his rain-colored eyes he 
knew instinctively that the eld was very old. His pointed ears were pierced by multiple gold rings, and in 
his white, constantly stirring hair he wore a gold diadem. 


 A few eldin, both male and female, stood near him. One of them held a small harp, although Dain had 
heard no singing. The pleasant expressions on their faces dropped away and hardened as they caught 
sight of Dain and Alexeika.

 A few eldin, both male and female, stood near him. One of them held a small harp, although Dain had 
heard no singing. The pleasant expressions on their faces dropped away and hardened as they caught 
sight of Dain and Alexeika.

 The guide gestured for Dain to stop, then walked forward alone to kneel before the old eld.

 Grandfather, he said reverently, and kissed the hem of his garment.

 The old eld leaned forward to place his hand benevolently on the younger ones head. He asked a 
question in the eldin dialect that Dain did not understand.

 Still kneeling, the young eld replied in kind.

 Something familiar about the words flickered and shifted in Dains mind. He frowned, feeling he should 
be able to understand if only he concentrated a little harder.

 Alexeika edged closer to him. Do you know what he is saying? she whispered.

 No.

 She frowned. Did your lady mother teach you nothing when you were a child?

 He glared at her. Did not yours?

 Her face puckered angrily as though shed bitten into a sour grape, but before she could retort, the old 
eld was beckoning to Dain.

 Come forth, he said in Netheran.

 Not sure whether to be elated or nervous, Dain swallowed and walked up to him. He bowed in the 
Mandrian way, then 

r

 dropped to his knees, willing to humble himself if it would help.

 This is King Kaxiniz, the younger eld announced. Leader of the eight Tribes ... and father of she 
who was Nereisse.

 Dain looked up in startlement, realizing he was staring into the pale gray eyes of his own grandfather. 
At last, against all odds, he had found his true family. Tangled emotions surged into Dains throat. For a 
moment he was too choked up to speak.

 Kaxiniz stared at him and through him, offering no greeting. Dain met his regard steadily for a moment, 
then shifted his gaze to the younger eld, who had taken a place beside Kax-inizs chair as though he had 
the right to do so.

 You called his majesty grandfather, Dain said in puzzlement. Is he in truth your relation, or do you 
call him so as a title of respect?

 The young elds amber eyes flashed proudly. I am Potanderzin, he stated. Grandson and heir to 
King Kaxiniz.

 Dain smiled in genuine pleasure. Then we are cousins. I am glad to find family.

 Potanderzin stiffened. We are not your family, mixed-blood!

 Kaxiniz held up his hand, and Potanderzin subsided with a glare.

 The king of the eldin turned his pale gaze back on Dain and said, You have invoked the old favors 
owed to Solder the First. What would you ask of us?

 Dain blinked at the direct question. He was still trying to adjust to the fact that he possessed both a 
grandfather and a cousin, and possibly numerous other relatives as well. He wanted to meet them all, to 
be welcomed. However, plainly he was not going to be accepted here. It saddened him to discover that 
the eldin were in their own way as bigoted as humans.

 Ask your favor! Kaxiniz said impatiently. Let us settle all debts and be done with them.

 Dain frowned, certain he faced a trap of some kind. Solder had been the first king of Nether; for a 
debt to have lasted over the course of several centuries, Dain realized, it must be great indeed. He had no 
intention of squandering it through ignorance.

 Perhaps I will not ask my favor now, Dain said, and saw the old kings eyes narrow.

 What, then, do you want?

 I am Nereisses son, Dain said in appeal. 


 Kaxinizs eyes were like river pebbles. So it has been said. What proof have you?

 Kaxinizs eyes were like river pebbles. So it has been said. What proof have you?

 Potanderzin caught his breath audibly, and Kaxiniz closed his eyes. No one else present moved or 
spoke until the song ended.

 Trembling a little with emotions he could not name, Dain closed his hand around the crystal. It felt 
strangely warm and alive against his palm, more so than ever before. He drew in several deep breaths to 
steady himself.

 I am Faldain, he whispered.

 When Kaxiniz opened his eyes, tears shimmered in them. I heard Nereisses voice in your song.

 Dain bowed his head, missing the mother he had never known.

 And the voice of someone else. Who?

 Thiatereika, Dain said hoarsely, and cleared his throat. My sister.

 Kaxinizs gaze shifted to Alexeika, who stood behind Dain. Not this maiden?

 No, Dain answered. Thiatereika is dead.

 Murmurs came from the onlookers, and Kaxinizs hands clenched hard in his lap.

 His expression, however, did not change. Killed by menl he asked harshly.

 No, by dwarves. MyTobeszijian left Thia and me in the guardianship of Jorb the Swordmaker. We 
grew up in Nold, and might be there still except for a war that broke out among the clans. lorb died in 
one of the attacks, and so did Thia.

 How were you spared? Potanderzin asked.

 Hearing criticism and an unspoken accusation of cowardice in his voice, Dain frowned and rose to his 
feet to face his cousin. He was a full head taller than Potanderzin, with twice the muscles and breadth of 
shoulder. He was getting tired of being judged and found lacking by someone he could break in half.

 I was away, buying ore for the forge, he replied, his voice quiet but brittle. Be assured I took 
vengeance on those who slew her. They live no more.

 Ah, the man-taint covers you well, Kaxiniz said. Why come you here to boast of killing and death?

 I come here to ask for your help in saving someones life.

 Whose?

 Lady Pheresa du Lindier, Dain replied. She is of Man-dria.

 The eldin all stared at him, and no one spoke. Dain struggled on with his explanation.

 By accident she drank eld-poison which was intended for me. She lies near death, and has been kept 
alive only through a spell. It cannot hold her much longer. I came here for the cure.

 Kaxinizs brows drew together. You come invoking the old favors for this?

 Dain did not understand his anger. I need your help. I dont know where else to turn.

 Nereisse died because of eld-poison meant for you, the old one said. Why do you come before me 
with this tale told anew? To wound my heart? To stir up old grief? She was my only daughter. With the 
greatest misgivings did I bestow her hand in marriage to a man-king. I did it only because Tobesz-ijian 
had eldin blood in his veins. And see what became of her! See!

 He flung out his hand as he spoke, and a small vapor formed in the air. For a moment it roiled upon 
itself, then it cleared to show Dain an image of a woman lying in bed, writhing in fevered delirium. He 
stared at her, realizing this slender, beautiful woman who looked so much like Thia was the mother hed 
never known.

 Unable to stop himself, he took at step toward the image, and it vanished with a small pop.

 She died because of you! Kaxiniz said. Died to save her child from poison. j__

 And now you claim another woman will die by the same cause, and for the same reasons.

 I didnt come to bring you pain! Dain said vehemently. I came in an effort to save a life.

 She cannot be saved. 


 But shes human. Theres no eld blood in her. Surely something can be done to rid her of the poison, 
Dain said desperately. Please, sir. I beg for your mercy.

 But shes human. Theres no eld blood in her. Surely something can be done to rid her of the poison, 
Dain said desperately. Please, sir. I beg for your mercy.

 But

 Accept this. Your quest is a false one, born of pride and a sense of false responsibility.

 I am responsible! Dain retorted, reeling from what Kaxiniz had said. I love her. I

 And that is another lie. As Kaxiniz leaned forward, his pale gray eyes were relentless. You claim 
love for the bride of another man. No eld would dare do this. You are immoral and tainted by 
man-ways.

 Dain stiffened. I fell in love with her before she belonged to another. I

 No, Faldain. No. I read the truth in your heart, truth which you will not accept. You sought this 
maiden because she was forbidden. You sought her because you are the enemy of the man she belongs 
to. This is evil. Great evil!

 But I

 You have grown up to be unworthy of your mothers sacrifice, Kaxiniz said with contempt. 
Nereisse never lacked courage. She never told lies, not even to herself. She never evaded her duty.

 Are you saying I do?

 Kaxiniz said nothing, but the expression in his eyes was damning.

 Feeling whipped by the old kings scorn, Dain stood there with his face on fire and his temper in 
shreds. He hadnt come here to be called an immoral coward. Kaxiniz was a stranger, with no right to 
judge him.

 Except... Kaxiniz was his grandfather, and he did have the right to judge.

 Feeling ashamed and confused, Dain bowed his head. I do intend to claim my throne, he said stiffly, 
wanting the old eld to understand. But I have felt it necessary to save Pheresa if I could. I dont expect 
her gratitude. II know that if she lives she will marry Prince Gavril of Mandria. But why should I let her 
die, if I could do anything to prevent it? He looked up, frowning earnestly. I thought the eldin revered 
life. Why are you so eager to condemn this young woman? You dont even know her.

 I do not judge her. I do not condemn her, Kaxiniz said. Her fate lies not in my hands.

 The eldin are healers, Dain said, pleading with him. Can no one try to help her? If not for my sake, 
then for hers? She is innocent. No enemy of any man. Why should she suffer? Why should she die 
because an assassin sought my death?

 Kaxiniz stared at him stonily. You could journey to the pits of hell and beg Ashnod for his dire mercy 
on her behalf, and it would avail you nothing. There is no cure. 

But I thought an eldin healer could draw the

 No eld can draw the poison from her without dying in the attempt. As your mother died, drawing the 
poison from her child.

 Dain flinched, for again he heard the accusation and bitterness in Kaxinizs voice. He had no memory 
of having been poisoned as a young child, no memory of having been seriously ill. Thia would have told 
him about it if it had really happened. Yet he heard no lie in Kaxinizs words.

 Dain sighed, then said, Can of Eternal Life not create a cure?

 Behind him, Alexeika gasped aloud. Potanderzin blinked in shock. Kaxiniz drew back deeper within 
the embrace of his leafy chair. Dain did not know what had shocked them this time, but he was getting 
tired of how these people took offense at everything he said or asked.

 Do you know where is hidden? he persisted.

 I do not.

 Dains last hope crashed. He couldnt believe he had come all this way, risked his life and the lives of 
his friends, only to meet now with failure. Hed been so sure the eldin would help Pheresa. Had 
Thiatereika still been alive, she would have stretched out her hand instantly to help a stranger. He realized 
hed expected all the eldin to be like her, but clearly they werent. 


 And yet, there was another mystery lying concealed beneath Kaxinizs hostility, a secret of some kind, 
a... a sort of wariness tinged with fear. Dain glanced around at the handful of eldin looking on, then turned 
his frown on the nearby dwellings. There werent many of them. There seemed to be almost no folk in 
this enchanted village. And why had the little ones fled at the sight of him? Were they so wary of 
strangers? Why? Who could harm them, much less find them here?

 And yet, there was another mystery lying concealed beneath Kaxinizs hostility, a secret of some kind, 
a... a sort of wariness tinged with fear. Dain glanced around at the handful of eldin looking on, then turned 
his frown on the nearby dwellings. There werent many of them. There seemed to be almost no folk in 
this enchanted village. And why had the little ones fled at the sight of him? Were they so wary of 
strangers? Why? Who could harm them, much less find them here?

 Kaxinizs and Potanderzins faces were like stone. Dain sensed a flash of panic between grandfather 
and grandson, felt it as sharply as though it had been shared with him.

 Something is wrong, Dain said. You fear me? Why?

 The two of them exchanged glances that only confirmed Dains suspicions.

 Why? he repeated. All my life I have heard of the eldin ways, of eldin gentleness, of eldin 
hospitality, of eldin grace and love of beauty. I saw it in my sister, who never spoke from unkindness, 
who cherished all living creatures.

 Your sister is dead, Potanderzin said harshly. You said she died by violence. So has it been for 
most of our folk. We have been too gentle, too trusting. Well, no more!

 Kaxiniz reached out and touched his wrist, but Potanderzin scowled and jerked away from the old 
elds touch.

 You ask why we fear you? Potanderzin said angrily to Dain. You stand here, in our last place of 
refuge, and feel hurt because we abhor you!

 Kaxiniz sighed. Potanderzin, do not

 Yes, Grandfather! I must tell him. Why shouldnt he know?

 Tell me what? Dain demanded.

 Potanderzins amber and silver eyes blazed at him. You mean our destruction.

 What?

 It has been foretold! The son of Tobeszijian will find us, even in refuge where no man may enter. No 
matter where we hide, he will ride straight to us with eyes that see past the veils of concealment. And 
when he goes forth from us, he will betray us to our worst enemies. Then will we be driven forever from 
this place of safety, nevermore to dwell here beyond the reach of men.

 Stunned, Dain could only stand there, staring at his cousin in astonishment. But such a prophecy is 
impossible, he said at last. I would never bring harm to you. I-

 Save your lies, Potanderzin said roughly. I tell you it has been foretold. The veils of seeing have 
been parted several times, and always we see ourselves in flight, moving eastward, toward the lands of 
our enemies.

 Visions can be misinterpreted, Dain said desperately. I would not act against you. This, I swear!

 Knowledge of our hiding place now lies in your mind, Kaxiniz said with quiet weariness. Among the 
Nonkind, knowledge can be plucked from anyones thoughts, whether he wishes it to happen or not.

 Potanderzin nodded. You are our downfall, Faldain. Our last destruction. This is why we wish you 
ill.

 But

 It is time for you to go, Kaxiniz said. He met Dains eyes as he spoke, and there was no relenting in 
his gaze. If you invoke the old favors, we will dishonor ourselves and refuse. For we cannot help you. 
Now go, and bring about our destiny.

 No, Dain said. No! Please, I swear to you that

 We do not want your oaths, Potanderzin said with a sneer. The king has bade you go. In the name 
of courtesy, do as he asks. Or must you be forced out?

 From the corner of his eye, Dain saw Alexeika stiffen and reach for her daggers.

 Not wanting violence, Dain held up his hand. Wait! he called out, as much to her as to Potanderzin. 

I will go, but I ask one last question. 
Potanderzin looked as though he would refuse, but Kaxiniz gestured to Dain. Speak. 
Could / draw the poison from Pheresa? Dain asked. Alexeika gave an involuntary start, but he 
ignored her and kept his gaze firmly on Kaxiniz. If I were shown the gifts of healing, could I save her? 


 Emotions shimmered in Kaxinizs eyes, but he gave Dain no answer.

 Emotions shimmered in Kaxinizs eyes, but he gave Dain no answer.

 It would clear a debt, Dain said stubbornly. One life for another. Isnt that right, Grandfather?

 Kaxinizs face had lost all color. Even his curls stopped moving. No, he said hoarsely. No!

 Teach me this skill, Dain said. I was too young to remember where my father hid , so I cannot bring 
it forth from hiding to heal many who suffer. I can think of no other way to save Pheresas life. Even if 
you think I am wrong, she is my friend. I have to save her, no matter what the cost!

 And do you understand the cost? Potanderzin asked him fiercely. Do you?

 Yes, Dain said. My life for hers.

 No, Alexeika moaned, but Dain ignored her.

 With you will die the true line of Netheran kings, Kaxiniz said. The chain of descendants from 
Solder will lie broken forever. 
Dain flinched slightly at that, but he did not yield. I am sorry, he said. I was not raised to preserve 
kingdoms, but instead to keep my word. And I gave it to

 Foolish boy, consider more than your own boastful arrogance! Kaxiniz broke in. Long, long ago in 
the time of the ancients, Solder did dare to intervene in the Battles of the Gods. Partly because of his 
courage and valor, Ashnod and the lesser dark gods were defeated. The mortals who worshipped them 
became the first Nonkind, and all were driven far across the Charva into a desolate place that we now 
know as Gant.

 In reward, Thod made Solder first king over Nether and entrusted him with of Eternal Life and many 
secrets of power and magic to enable him to rule long and well. This, Faldain, is your heritage. This is 
your beginning.

 Dain frowned. He dared not interrupt the old eld, but so far nothing Kaxiniz said had changed his 
mind.

 Since that dawning of time, Ashnod has focused on one primary objective.

 Revenge? Dain said impatiently.

 Kaxiniz frowned at him in severe disapproval. It is Ashnods will that Solders line be broken forever, 
crushed from existence. of Eternal Life is to be either destroyed or else lost for all eternity. Nether is to 
sink into the darkness and be consumed by evil. Why do you think Muncel was befriended years ago by 
agents of the Believers? Who do you think dripped the poison of jealousy into his ear, day after day, until 
he actually struck against your parents?

 Dain dropped his gaze, ashamed of his earlier flippancy.

 Hear me, Kaxiniz said. When Tobeszijian was forced from his throne and vanished, never to return, 
evil took great strides against us. Your father condemned his realm to death when he removed 

 He had to, Dain said in automatic defense of his father. He couldnt let it fall into their hands.

 Kaxinizs face twisted with bitterness. Your father was a brave warrior in battle. The rest of the time 
he was a fool who did not think ahead. He reacted. He never planned. Time after time, I warned 
Nereisse of the dangers, yet Tobeszijian would not heed them.

 Anyone can make mistakes, Dain said. Why can you not forgive his?

 Because he carelessly allowed himself and his entire family to fall into the enemys hands.

 Dains head lifted in contradiction. Nay, he kept my sister and me from harm. We were well-hidden 
until this year.

 Too well-hidden, Kaxiniz said bitterly. He could have brought you to my keeping, but he did not. 
Despite his eld blood, he did not trust me with your welfare. Now you stand here, looking brave and 
manly, yet how ignorant of the true situation you are. By hiding you from your own heritage, Tobeszijian 
played once more into the enemys plans. To some Netherans you are a myth, a savior whose eventual 
return has been foretold. To others, you are nothing at all, for they do not believe in you. To us, you are 
disaster.

 Hear me! Your coming is likely too late, but if you do nothing except go questing to save a foreign girl 
whose destiny has no place in Nether, then you finish Ashnods work for him. 


 I gave her my word, Dain said stubbornly.

 I gave her my word, Dain said stubbornly.

 Dain frowned. He had the feeling that Kaxiniz already knew the answer to his question, yet Dain knew 
he was expected to reply. After.

 Aye, after, Kaxiniz said with a nod. After you knew you were required to be elsewhere.

 Nether has grown dark indeed, Dain told him coldly. For I see that the eldin have come to despise 
kindness.

 Kaxiniz stared at him a long moment before he shook his head. Alas, kindness is not despised, but 
the good of many must come before the good of one. Has no one taught you this?

 Dain refused to answer.

 Kaxiniz sighed. It would seem you are exactly like your father.

 Am I? Dain retorted with heat, wondering what the old eld would say if he knew how strongly 
Tobeszijians vision had urged him to return and rectify his mistakes by fighting for the throne. Then I am 
proud to be like him. He kept from danger.

 But at the cost of his kingdoms well-being! Potanderzin burst out, as though he couldnt keep quiet 
any longer. His eyes were blazing. The land has grown tainted and foul. We eldin can no longer heal it, 
for Muncels evil has destroyed the Tree of Life that we worship. If you throw yourself away on a cause 
that does not belong to you, who will restore the tree? Who will restore ? Who will restore the 
kingdom?

 Dains face was burning. He glared back. You revile me in one breath and beg me to save you in the 
next. Is this not the way of men, and far beneath the honor of the eld-folk?

 Potanderzin reached for his dagger, but quickly Kaxiniz rose to his feet and stepped between them.

 You hide here, fearing foretellings that may or may not come true, Dain said in disgust. Yet what do 
you for the cause? Will you come forth and fight the evil? Or am I supposed to do it all alone?

 Kaxiniz faced him with stony dignity. The expression in his gray eyes was terrible to behold. When 
you have proven yourself a king, you may criticize us. Not before. He pointed a trembling finger at Dain. 
Go from us. Go!

 Dain bowed to the old king, his anger like something alive in his chest. Tight-lipped, he took no 
farewell and gave no other courtesy, but simply turned on his heel and strode away.

 Potanderzin hurried to catch up with him. I will lead you back to the bridge.

 No need, Dain said angrily. I can follow the path.

 You are blind and foolish, Potanderzin said. Just like your father. You are unworthy of Solders 

heritage. 
Thank you, Dain said through his teeth, for repeating the old kings words. I would not want to 
forget them. 
Perhaps repetition will break through the stone of your stubbornness. 
Fuming, Dain followed Potanderzin back along the village path to the bridge. There, he hesitated, 

seeking one last way to appeal to his cousins sense of mercy.

 But Potanderzin gave him no chance. He pointed at the bridge. Go from here, and do not return.

 My blood is pale, Dain said resentfully. Just like yours. Were kin, whether you like it or not.

 Until you are worthy, you are no kin of mine.

 Worthy? Dain shot at him. Worthy of what? My throne? How dare you judge me like this. You 
have closed your minds, without giving me a chance.

 We have seen what is to come, Potanderzin intoned.

 Aye, so you keep saying, but what do you intend to do about it?

 Do? Potanderzin said blankly. What can be done?

 When you can answer that question, perhaps at last you will be worthy to sit on our grandfathers 
throne.

 Potanderzins eyes narrowed. Do not mock me. This war against Ashnod has nothing to do with the 
folk of eld. 


 Dain snorted. Of course not. Yet you hide.

 Dain snorted. Of course not. Yet you hide.

 Clearly, Dain retorted. You hide here in your enchanted wood, safe from Muncels army, safe from 
Gantese assassins. You criticize me yet take no risks yourself. I wonder you do not slaughter me to 
prevent this betrayal Im supposed to commit.

 Great Thod, no! Alexeika said in alarm.

 Dain went on glaring at Potanderzin. Or do you intend to strike me down after I cross this bridge?

 You speak evil insult, Potanderzin said through his teeth. His hands were clenched at his sides. We 
eldin are not assassins.

 No, indeed. Your destiny has been foretold; therefore, you will fold your hands like old women and 
make it come true. Why not help fight the darkness? Why not seek to restore this Tree of Life you count 
so high?

 Potanderzins amber eyes narrowed to slits. He glared at Dain in silence. 
Yes, I thought so, Dain said with contempt. You will do nothing. I may be wrong, as my 
grandfather has said, but at least I am no coward. 
Go from here, Potanderzin said furiously, and the flowers blooming next to the path withered and 

died as he spoke. You understand nothing. Nothing! Go and do not come back!

 Dain shot him a final steely look. I am ashamed, he said, to know you are my kin.

 Potanderzin stiffened, but Dain turned away from him and stepped onto the bridge.

 Instantly the light and warmth vanished, and all was dark and bitterly cold once more. Dain strode 
across, his boots echoing on the rough planks, and stepped off between the carved beyars.

 He found the other eldin riders gone. Only a lingering scent of rank beyar musk remained on the frosty 
air. Soleil, nickering a welcome, stood tied to a tree.

 Dain untied the reins and waited in the darkness, fuming, as Alexeika crossed the bridge and hurried to 
join him.

 Your majesty, she said quietly, her voice holding a mixture of sympathy and pity, Im sorry

 Yes, thank you, he said, cutting her off. He wanted no comforting. He was too angry, too resentful. 
His eldin relatives had condemned Pheresa to death, and he would never forgive them for it. Lets find 
the others and go from here.

 But Alexeika blocked his path. Im sorry I had to hear of your shame, she said. I swear I will never 
speak of it.

 Shame? What say you?

 She was only a shadow in the darkness, lean and straight and stalwart. Her hair and skin smelled of 
frost. This awful thing that you will do

 I will not betray them! Dain said angrily. Gods! Is this your belief as well, that fate comes to us as 
an assignment we cannot escape?

 No, but

 They are sore afraid, he said, cutting across her words. There are few of them leftno doubt from 
persecution. Clearly it has softened their thinking and made them weak.

 Fear is always the greatest enemy, Alexeika said. Or so my father always told me.

 Your father, Dain said grimly, was wise.

 Sire, you wontI mean, you really dont intend to draw this ladys poison into yourself, do you?

 He looked away, staring into the blackness of the forest with his heart still on fire. Never, since Thias 
death, could he remember feeling so bleak inside.

 No, he said curtly.

 Alexeika sighed in obvious relief. Thank the

 If she were nearby, I would try something... anything, he said raggedly, clenching and unclenching his 
fists. But surely shes in Grov by now.

 Grov!

 Aye. Unless she died on the journey. Dain tipped back his head and blinked fiercely in an effort to 


control himself. He wanted to yell, to draw his sword and cleave something in twain. He wanted to 

control himself. He wanted to yell, to draw his sword and cleave something in twain. He wanted to 

 Your majesty cannot go to Grov! Alexeika said in alarm.

 I know. My uncles men would cut me down. No, Alexeika, Im turning west to find the Agyas. Its 
time for war.

 She made a soft little cry in the back of her throat and suddenly dropped to her knees in the snow 
before him, clutching the hem of his hauberk. At last, she murmured, her voice raw with emotions he 
did not want to witness. At last! Oh

 He gripped her shoulders, and gave her a rough shake. On your feet. Theres nothing to rejoice 
about.

 But there is!

 No, Alexeika. He sighed harshly in the darkness. Come, let us get back to the others.

 Just as he slid his foot into the stirrup to mount his horse, a peculiar feeling swept him, rendering him 
dizzy and suddenly weak. Letting his foot drop back to the ground, he closed his eyes and leaned against 
Soleils reassuring bulk. A terrible coldness suffused him, starting at the top of his head and descending 
through his body. He felt as though his very life was sinking into the ground with it. He could feel his heart 
slowing, his energy draining away until there was nothing ... nothing ...

 Dain!

 A rattling thump jolted his bones and brought him back from the icy darkness of nowhere.

 Opening his eyes with a wince, Dain found himself lying on the ground, which was very cold and hard 
beneath him. He blinked, momentarily dazzled by the orange flames of a campfire. Thum knelt over him, 
gripping the front of his surcoat with both fists.

 Dain! he shouted again with more urgency than before.

 Easy, lad, Sir Terents voice said. Hes coming around.

 Dain tried to lift his hand to his head. He felt dizzy and strange. Nothing looked right to him. He could 
not figure out what had happened.

 Here, Terent, lift him while I put this blanket under him.

 Aye, Alard. Here, Thum, move out of the way. Youre of no help lifting.

 Thum vanished, and Dain felt himself lifted and set down again. The ground still felt cold beneath him.

 Frowning, he gazed up into Sir Terents worried face. His head dawdled like an infants, and he had to 
concentrate to hold it steady. What happened to me?

 Sir Terent pressed a callused hand to his cheek and smiled. Ah, now, thats what wed like to know. 
That lass came riding into camp here like a wild woman, with you draped unconscious over the saddle. 
She said you were hale and hearty and talking to her one minute, and the next you fainted flat on the 
ground.

 Oh. Dains frown deepened. He tried to remember and couldnt. Is that what

 As for me, Sir Terent said grimly, Im wondering what those queer eldin did to you. What kind of 
spell did they cast on you, eh?

 Move back! another voice said before Dain could answer.

 Alexeika rushed up to elbow Sir Terent aside. She lifted Dains head and pressed a bark cup of water 
to his lips. Drink this.

 Realizing he was thirsty, Dain gulped down the icy cold liquid with gratitude. His weakness was 
wearing off now. He pushed her hands aside and sat up, thrusting against Sir Terents attempt to press 
him back down.

 Im well, sir, he said sharply, and glanced around.

 The camp lay in a tiny clearing banked with snowdrifts beneath the laden branches of pine and fir. A 
fire was crackling briskly, casting out enough warmth to hold back the nights raw cold. Hare carcasses, 
long since roasted and stripped to the bones, lay atop a flat stone by the flames. Dain could smell the 
lingering aroma of roasted meat, and his mouth watered.

 Is aught left for me to eat?

 Sir Terent chuckled and clapped him hard on the shoulder. Aye, that there is. Now I know youre 


well again. Here, Alard! Hand over that morsel of hare we saved back.

well again. Here, Alard! Hand over that morsel of hare we saved back.

 While he did so, they gathered round and stared at him with blatant concern.

 I like this not, Sir Terent said finally when Dain was snapping the bones and sucking marrow from 
them. You faltered at Thirst and did act most strange. Now youve swooned. Perhaps its some illness 
and

 No, Dain said with a frown, tossing the bones into the fire and wiping his greasy fingers. I have 
been thinking about this, for its passing strange.

 But if youre ill

 I cant be, Dain said. My eldin blood would protect me from common malady.

 Sir Terents face turned red, and he slapped a hand around his sword hilt. Then these eldin have 
enspelled you

 Easy, sir, Dain said to restrain him. Someone is trying to do it, but its not the eld-folk.

 Alexeikas intelligent gaze was intent as she leaned forward. No, it cant be, she agreed. I sense 
none of their type of magic near you.

 Hush, lass! Sir Terent said gruffly to her. This discussion has no need of your opinion.

 For an instant she looked hurt; then anger flashed in her eyes and she jumped to her feet. Wisely 
spoken, sir lout! she said contemptuously. Since you are foreign-born and too stupid to know magic 
when its burning your ears, Ill leave you to it.

 Alexeika! Dain called after her, but she turned so fast her long braid of hair swung behind her. Away 
she strode into the night.

 Thum and Sir Alard kept silent, but Sir Terent showed no remorse.

 Good riddance, he said in satisfaction, rubbing his hands. Bold as brass and a tongue of vinegar. 
Now, sire, about these eldin

 She was absolutely right, Sir Terent, Dain cut him off coldly. This could not be their magic turned 
against me.

 Dont see why not, Sir Terent replied stubbornly. No friendliness in them, and the lass told us they 
refused to help you.

 That doesnt mean theyre trying to kill me, Dain said.

 Kill you! Thum exclaimed in horror. You think someone intends your death?

 Aye. Frowning, Dain rubbed his chest. Its like lying in a snowdrift for hours, unable to move, and 
growing colder all the while. But its worse than that. Its feeling everything sinking away, fading ... He 
sat in silence a long moment, trying to shake off the confused memories. It comes from afar.

 From who? Thum asked. Who attacks you like this?

 Dain shook his head. Choose from my enemies, since theyre so plentiful. But this is strange magic. I 
dont know it, and yet I... He frowned, but the thought that had almost come to him vanished and would 
not return. Frustrated, he sighed. All I know is that its getting stronger.

 His men exchanged uneasy glances. Sir Alard had pulled out his Circle and was turning the brass piece 
over and over in his fingers.

 Thums hazel-green eyes held horror. But what can you do to stop it? You must know something!

 I dont. I never know when its going to overtake me. Dains frown deepened, and he shivered 
despite his nearness to the fire. With the Nonkind, I often have some inkling, but this is nothing of their 
ilk.

 Can you not sense when it will strike again? Thum asked.

 Dain met his eyes with a sense of foreboding. Nay. I only know that it will.

 That night he dreamed of riding through driving sleet, the air so cold it burned his nostrils and fingers. 
He dreamed of hurlhounds red-eyed, acid-slavering beasts that surrounded him so that there was no 
way out. He dreamed of fire and smoke, hearing Thias screams, feeling her life force ebb away as he 
gripped her in grief and denial. He dreamed of a place harsh and terrible, where the wind blew sand that 
abraded his face and choked his breath. And he dreamed of his father, ghostly pale astride his darsteed, 


blood streaming from terrible wounds, his sword, Mirengard, glowing white in his hands.

blood streaming from terrible wounds, his sword, Mirengard, glowing white in his hands.

 But Tobeszijian seemed not to hear him. Moaning in pain, the great king reeled in his saddle as though 
he would fall from it. On his ungloved hand, the Ring of Solder glowed brightly against the gloom. Dain 
saw his father hesitate, nearly swoon again with a shuddering grimace, and mouth words that Dain could 
not overhear.

 A blinding explosion of sparks enveloped him, and in an instant he vanished into thin air. Only a few 
golden sparks lingered in the air, raining down slowly where he had been a moment before.

 Dain felt an overwhelming sense of loss and dread. Father! he called. Come back! Please!

 But Tobeszijian did not return.

 The next morning, they arose and broke camp in dawns bleak light. Dain felt tired and heavy-eyed 
from poor rest. He caught the others glancing at him in concern, but with a frown he brushed aside their 
inquiries and climbed into the saddle.

 As had become their custom, Alexeika walked over to climb up behind Sir Alard, but Dain stopped 
her.

 Ride with me today, he said. We will turn westward and set a hard pace. Soleil is better able to 
carry two than is Sir Alards steed.

 Alexeikas cheeks took on a pale tinge of pink. In silence, her red chain mail looking vivid and 
outlandish against the frosty gray backdrop of the woods, she climbed behind his saddle.

 Im sorry for Sir Terents words to you last night, Dain said quietly for her ears alone.

 The color in her cheeks intensified. Her blue-gray eyes were fierce with resentment as she nodded 
stiffly to him. The apology is not yours to make, sire, she said.

 Perhaps not, Dain said. But he is my man and I am responsible for him. He never means to be as 
rough as he sounds.

 Your majesty is wrong! she said sharply. He means exactly what he says. But I need no protecting 
from the bigotry of your men. I can take care of myself.

 She was so prickly that Dain was tempted to drop the matter, but he could hear genuine hurt beneath 
her bravado, and he remained troubled by the look that had crossed her face last night. It was the first 
sign of vulnerability hed seen in her, the first sign that she was neither as tough nor as hard as she tried to 
appear.

 I faced their bigotry myself not so long past, he told her mildly. Few Mandrians will accept anyone 
of eld blood in their company. Gaining their loyalty did not come quickly ... or eas-By.

 I suppose your majesty is telling me that in the fullness of time they will befriend me too?

 Aye.

 She snorted. Why think you I want their friendship?

 Everyone needs friends, Alexeika. Even you.

 She fell silent at his back, and Dain added, Besides, were comrades. Its best to be on good terms 

before battle. 
She ducked in unison with him as they rode beneath a low-hanging branch. Battle wont come before 
the thaw of spring. We 
She broke off with a gasp of alarm. At that moment, the stench of fetid decay filled Dains nostrils. 
He nearly stood in the stirrups as he drew Truthseeker. Ter-ent, Thum, Alard! he shouted. 
Nonkind!

 Just as Dain shouted his warning, a pair of hurlhounds burst from the undergrowth and came bounding 
straight for him. Black as eternity they were, their hides scaled and oily, and their eyes glowed with red 
fire. Venom dripped from their slavering jaws, and they stank of the grave.

 At his back, Alexeika shouted a war cry and drew her sword, which was glowing white in the 
presence of evil. Dain spurred Soleil forward, intending to meet the onrush of the two hurlhounds with 
steel, but his beautiful steed had been bred in the gentle stables of Savroix, far to the south where 
monsters such as these were unknown. Soleil was only a courser, trained to the hunt, and no horse of 


war.

war.

 Then Sir Terent came galloping up on his heavy charger. With a shout, he beheaded one of the 
hurlhounds before it could leap at Dain. Coming up on the other side, Sir Alard attacked the second 
monster. Their ordinary swords could not prevail, however. Refusing to fall over, the headless hound 
went staggering back and forth until at last Dain was able to stab it with Truthseeker. Flames shot forth 
from the blade, and the hurlhound burst into ashes with a thin, wailing scream.

 Sir Alard was stiH hacking at the other monster, mercilessly cutting it to pieces until his charger finally 
reared and brought both forefeet down on the hurlhounds skull with a mighty crack of bone. Only then 
did the monster fall.

 A terrible quiet fell over the wood, broken only by everyones harsh breathing. Jets of white wreathed 
from their mouths, and there was no need to say aloud what they were all thinking: where two hurlhounds 
were to be found, a whole pack would surely follow.

 Alexeika gripped the back of Dains cloak. This horse of yours is a fool! she said in fury.

 Dain didnt bother to reply; he was too busy using his mind to soothe Soleils fear and bring the 
trembling horse back under his control.

 I hear more coming, Sir Terent said.

 For once his hearing proved more keen than Dains. Lifting his head, Dain shook off his preoccupation 
with Soleil to listen, and now he heard the baying of more hurlhounds, coming fast. Worse, he heard the 
thunder of hoofbeats, and he sensed the minds of many riders. Some were filled with evil intent; others 
were simply empty. His mouth went dry.

 Believers and Nonkind, he said hoarsely.

 Sir Terent stood up in his stirrups, listening with all his might. How many, think you?

 Dains mind was working rapidly. Not for the first time did he feel exasperation at being in a strange 
land. He knew not the lay of this country, knew not the streams, nor the ravines and hiding places.

 Sire? Sir Terent said. How many*

 Too many for us to fight, Dain replied quickly. Damne, but we should have ridden hard all night, 
gotten ourselves far from here. We

 After your swoon last night, you were in no condition to ride, Sir Terent reminded him gruffly.

 Thats my point, Dain said impatiently, reining Soleil around. Clearly my uncles agents have been 
hunting me since I left Savroix. Last night, somehow, theyor some sorcerel working in conceit with 
themmanaged to mark me.

 Mercy of Riva, Alexeika whispered in dismay.

 Ignoring her, he kept his gaze on his protector. That must be why I fainted.

 A deep crease furrowed between Sir Terents brows. While Sir Alard drew a Circle on his breast, Sir 
Terent stared hard at Dain. Youre saying some kind of spells been cast oer your mind?

 Not to control me, Dain assured him. But these hurlhounds made straight for me alone. Weve 
been found, here in the midst of nowhere. How else, unless they have marked me in some way?

 Alexeika gripped his shoulder. If thats so, then by camping here near where you collapsed, weve 
given these riders all night to catch up with us. Thod above, I never thought of that!

 Comprehension and worry flashed across all their faces, but there was no time to discuss it further. 
The sounds of pursuit were coming closer, a crashing thunder through the forest that made birds fly up 
from the treetops into the sky and set Soleils ears pricking nervously. A terrible howl rose in the air, and 
Dain felt his heart lurch in his chest, for he was the quarry.

 Weve got to run for it, Sir Terent said grimly, and Sir Alard was nodding with nervous glances over 
his shoulder.

 If youre marked, Alexeika said quietly to Dain, then theyll follow you no matter where you run. 


 Ive thought of that, Dain said. He forced himself to speak crisply, with no evidence of fear, in order 
to steady the rest of them. I think I can make myself elusive and counteract whatever theyve put on me. 
Quick, Alexeika, is there a place of refuge nearby? An old shrine, perhaps? A place to hide?

 Ive thought of that, Dain said. He forced himself to speak crisply, with no evidence of fear, in order 
to steady the rest of them. I think I can make myself elusive and counteract whatever theyve put on me. 
Quick, Alexeika, is there a place of refuge nearby? An old shrine, perhaps? A place to hide?

 Morde a day! Sir Terent said in frustration. What good is some pagan cave

 A river! Dain said in relief, paying his protector no heed. Thats even better. Come

 Wait, sire! Thum said urgently, moving his horse to block Dains path. Why take the chance of 
running that far when the eldin sanctuary is close by? If you hide yourself there, surely the Nonkind 
cannot follow you to that enchanted place.

 Sir Alards head whipped around, and hope flashed across his face. Yes, thats it! Go there now, 
while we hold them

 Nay! Dain said angrily, as Soleil bunched and pranced beneath him. He thought of the prophecy that 
said he would lead destruction to the eldin, and shook his head. Not there. None of us are welcome, 
and I will not lead Nonkind to-

 Never mind us, Sir Terent said gruffly. Get yourself to safety at once, Dain lad. Well take a stand 
here to give you what time we can.

 Dain met Sir Terents green eyes and saw in them all the mans stalwart love and loyalty, offered with 
the gift of his life. Nay! Ill leave none behind. Quick! We ride toward the river.

 Go to your folks, Sir Terent said. Theyll hide you. Ill lay odds they know how to hide from the 
Nonkind better than anyone.

 The kind intentions of his friends filled Dain with frustration. There was no time to explain how hed 
been treated by the eldin, and clearly Alexeika had not spoken of it to anyone.

 Another howl filled the air, followed by fearsome baying, and Soleil reared in fright. Fighting with the 
horse, Dain shouted breathlessly, Im riding to the river, and all of you will follow. You cant defend this 
ground. Come!

 Not allowing them to waste more time by arguing, Dain wheeled Soleil around and let him run. 
Spurred by panic, the fleet-footed courser would have ordinarily left the heavier horses behind, but Soleil 
was carrying the weight of two, and that helped Dain slow him to a pace the others could match.

 Theyd very nearly argued too long. A pack of hurlhounds came into sight, gaining rapidly on their 
heels, then splitting into two smaller packs that ran through the undergrowth on either side of Dain and his 
companions. Making no attempt to attack, they merely paced them, their black scaly hides flashing 
through gaps in the undergrowth as they ran alongside.

 Sire! Alexeika shouted in his ear, but Dain was watching the hurlhounds closely and made no reply. 
He leaned forward over Soleils whipping mane, steadying the frightened horse all he could. The 
hurlhounds kept pace easily, never drawing closer, and Dain wondered why they did not attack.

 A horn wailed in the distance behind them, and Dains heart nearly jumped from his throat. He 
remembered the day when Gavril had coursed him through the Dark Forest with hounds and men, all 
because hed tried to steal a horse and a bit of food. And now he was the quarry again.

 Battling down fear, he forced himself to think. They couldnt ride at this blistering pace all the way to 
the river. Therefore, it was time for trickery.

 With determination, he reached deep inside his mind, seeking the mark that had been placed on him. 
Because he was no sor-cerel, he could not work complex magic. He knew only the simple, instinctive 
spells of life and nature, but thus far simplicity had always served him well. He drew in a breath, then 
began to sing softly of salt.

 What are you doing? Alexeika asked, but with a shake of his head Dain kept singing.

 He sang of salt mines, places where the ground turned barren and salt lay white atop the soil. He sang 
of salt on food, salt on altars, salt on the tongue. He sang of salt in the sea, salt in wounds, salt to cure 
meat, salt for cleaning. He sang of the coarse gritti-ness of it, of its radiant sparkle in sunlight, of its white 
purity when finely ground. He sang of its flavor. He sang of its sting.

 He sang until he felt the mark wither slightly, then he yanked the reins and veered Soleil toward the 


hurlhounds paralleling him on the right. Neighing in fright, the horse fought him, but Dain pressed at its 
mind with his own.

hurlhounds paralleling him on the right. Neighing in fright, the horse fought him, but Dain pressed at its 
mind with his own.

 Drawing Truthseeker, Dain struck fast and hard before the horse could scramble away from the 
hurlhound. Flames and ash flew in all directions, and the hurlhound was no more.

 Behind him, Alexeika was wielding her own sword, chanting, Severgard! Severgard! as she sliced 
through another creature.

 Wild baying broke out. The hurlhounds that had been running on their left came to the fray, just as Sir 
Alard, Sir Terent, and Thum caught up and desperately joined Dain in the fight hed started. For a 
moment there was only wild shouting and the frenzied snarling of the monsters.

 Truthseeker sang in Dains hands as he caught another hurlhound in mid-leap and sent it crashing to 
the ground. He could hear Severgard singing as well, in a kind of peculiar harmony, as though the two 
bladesdespite being forged so differentlywere aware of each other.

 A few seconds later, the battle ended, and all lay momentarily quiet in the forest. Weak sunlight filtered 
through the bare branches of the trees and glittered atop the trampled snow. Breathing hard, Dain felt 
Truthseeker still humming in his grasp. The sword glowed and rippled from hilt to tip, cleaning itself of 
gore and blood, which dripped off to hiss and steam on the ground.

 Dain sheathed the sword and glanced around swiftly to take stock. Alexeika slid off Soleils rump 
without a word and darted over to Sir Alard. Meanwhile, Thum was doubled over his saddle, wincing 
and gasping. Dain saw him clutching his leg, saw the claw marks and blood, now dripping onto the snow.

 Swearing in alarm, Dain reached into the purse of salt that hed brought with him from Mandria and 
rode over to his friend. Swiftly he brushed Thums hand away from his injury and salted the wound.

 Stiffening, Thum jerked back his head with a shout of agony that he bit off. Dain gripped his arm hard 
until the spasm eased and Thum began gasping and swearing.

 Dain grinned at him, but Thum grimaced back. I like not your tending, he said.

 Youd like dying of poison less, Dain said bluntly, and glanced at Sir Terent. Are you well? he 
asked.

 Aye. The protectors gaze was shifting in all directions. We cant tarry here.

 Bind his leg for him. And quickly. Dain handed over the purse of salt. Paste those cuts well with 
more salt first.

 Morde! Nay, Thum said shakily.

 Dain looked at Sir Terent sternly. Be sure its done. It means his life.

 Aye, your grace, Sir Terent said.

 Dain nodded, then rode over to see about Sir Alard just as Alexeika was pressing the flat side of her 
sword against a bite wound in his arm. His mail sleeve hung in tatters, and he gritted his teeth in obvious 
pain, the cords in his neck standing out until I at last she released him. Sir Alards aristocratic face turned 
as pale as the snow. He drew in several shuddering breaths before at last he recovered enough to lift his 
head.

 Does that work better than salt? Dain asked Alexeika.

 She grinned. The same, but while I can run out of salt, Sev-ergard is always with me.

 Dain gave Sir Alards shoulder a little shake. Well again?

 The knights brows rose. If you call being branded alive a cure.

 If you can joke, you can ride. Dain swung his gaze back to Alexeika. Come, my lady. Back up 
behind me.

 She frowned, hesitating between the two of them. Perhaps I should ride with Sir Alard and steady 
him.

 Im well, Sir Alard said, straightening in the saddle.

 Come, Dain said to her, listening to the wail of the horn coming closer. His heartbeat quickened. 
His horse carried you yesterday. Today tis Soleils turn.

 Alexeika climbed on behind him, and they rode onward at a brisk trot. Soleil, Alexeika said in 


Dains ear, is likely to buck both of us off before this day is over.

Dains ear, is likely to buck both of us off before this day is over.

 Alexeika moaned. Thods mercy.

 We can take them, sire, Sir Terent said softly, looking grim indeed as he gripped his sword hilt.

 Dain frowned and drew rein. Nay, he said in alarm. Theres a trap here. Turn back!

 But as he whirled Soleil around, it was only to see another group of five riders block them from 
behind. This latter group was close enough for Dain to see that their mail was made from something that 
looked like black obsidian, yet that was flexible enough to allow them movement. He was reminded of 
scales on a serpent, or some Nonkind creature. Swiftly he drew his sword.

 Alexeika gripped his shoulder hard. Fire-knights! she whispered.

 He frowned. Believers?

 Aye, the worst kind.

 The fire-knights slowly trotted forward from both sides, closing in on them. Dains men were brave 
fighters, but were outnumbered and tired. Even as Sir Terent and Sir Alard drew their swords, Dain 
turned Soleil southward and headed into the forest. Come! he shouted, and kicked his horse to a 
gallop.

 The others tried to follow, but one of the Believers shouted something in his bizarre, clacking language. 
Strange symbols drawn in flames appeared suddenly in midair before Dain.

 Startled, he jerked involuntarily on the reins, and Soleil reared in panic. The flaming symbols cast off 
sparks and ashes that elongated as they fell to the ground. But instead of snuffing out in the snow, they 
blazed on the ground, cutting him off from the forest.

 Thod and Riva, have mercy on our souls, Alexeika was praying at Dains back.

 He brought Soleil under control and wheeled the horse in another direction, but again the Believer 
shouted, and again fire symbols blazed in the air, cutting Dain off.

 Sir Terent swore a string of violent oaths. Heres where we fight these devils, sire.

 Aye, Dain agreed grimly, and brandished Truthseeker. It was not humming with power, and neither 
was Severgard aglow. Whatever these fire-knights might be, they were not Nonkind. Thod only knew 
what they were.

 Thum, Dain said rapidly to his friend. Get you away into the trees.

 Nay, sire. <

 Do not engage! Dain said angrily. Youve no armor. Youre not required to fight.

 Holding his sword, Thum looked grim indeed as he positioned his horse beside Dain. They were 
arranged now in a tight circle, facing all four directions as the Believers closed in. I doubt these creatures 
understand Mandrian rules of combat, sire, he said in a tight, strained voice.

 Squires do not fight, Dain said harshly. Ill not put you at risk. As soon as we engage, slip away 
and

 Nay!

 Hush, the pair of you, Sir Terent muttered, just as he used to when they were fosters in training. He 
drew the sign of a Circle on his breast, as did Sir Alard.

 With shouts, the Believers charged at a gallop. Dain lifted Truthseeker. For Nether! he shouted. 
For Faldain! his men roared in response. Then they were surrounded, and the crash of swords rang 
through the trees. Sir Terents war charger reared up and struck with deadly forefeet, driving one 
Believer back just as the protector swung his sword at one of the foes closing in on Dain.

 Then another opponent rushed at Dain, and he had no more chance to see what was happening to his 
companions. Looking massive in the black stone armor, this Believer kept his helmet visor closed, and 
Dain could see only darkness where his eyes should have been.

 Fear stabbed through Dain, but he pushed it away as he met the Believers attack. God-steel collided 
with iron, and the Believers sword shattered in the first blow. The Believer stared at the broken weapon 
in his fist, then shouted something and hurled it at Dain like a knife. 


 Dain batted it away, but by then the Believer had drawn a curved dagger that flashed in the final 
slanting rays of sunlight. As he charged again, Dain swung his ancient sword with both hands and struck 
the man at the base of his shoulder.

 Dain batted it away, but by then the Believer had drawn a curved dagger that flashed in the final 
slanting rays of sunlight. As he charged again, Dain swung his ancient sword with both hands and struck 
the man at the base of his shoulder.

 Sir Terent was hacking lustily away, and Sir Alard was holding his own, but Thum was outnumbered 
by two Believers, who were ignoring his squire status entirely. While one kept Thums sword engaged, 
the other hit him from behind.

 Knocked from his saddle, Thum went crashing to the ground and lay there unmoving.

 No! In a fury, Dain attacked the Believer whod struck his friend down, thrusting Truthseeker 
through his back. Screaming, the Believer toppled over. Dain twisted Truthseeker desperately to keep it 
from being wrenched from his hand, but before he could withdraw his weapon, the fire-knight whod 
been fighting Thum hurriedly pulled the dead man from Dains reach. Truthseeker, still lodged in the dead 
man, was wrested from Dains grasp.

 With a laugh, the Believer galloped off, dragging the corpse and Truthseeker alike.

 Armed now with nothing more than his dagger, Dain gulped. For a moment he was too horrified to 
think.

 Two down to our one, Alexeika shouted over the clang of weapons. Six now against our four.

 Dain looked at Thum, who was still lying on the ground. Dead or stunned, Dain knew not, but he 
feared the worst. Grief swelled through him, and with it came fresh anger.

 Ill take his sword, Dain said, and started to dismount. Alexeika, however, gripped him in warning. 
Look! He turned his head and saw another Believer approaching him at a gallop, sword brandished 
aloft Straight at Dain came this new opponent, looking huge in his stone armor, his black cloak billowing 
from his shoulders as his horse jumped Thums body. The Believers horse was snorting jets of white 
breath, and tendrils of smoke curled through slits in the Believers visor.

 Desperate to get Thums sword, Dain again started to dismount, but Alexeika reached around him to 
press Severgard into his hand. Take mine! she shouted, and jumped off before Dain could stop her.

 Severgard protested by nearly twisting itself from Dains hand. It was all he could do not to drop it. By 
then Alexeika had darted behind the fire-knight to seize Thums sword. Holding it aloft, she went running 
to rejoin the fray, and there was no chance to swap weapons with her. Desperately Dain managed to 
force his fingers around Severgards silver and gold wire hilt just as his opponent struck.

 Despite mustering a desperate parry just in the nick of time, Dain knew himself to be in trouble.

 Severgard was not forged for him, was never destined for his use. Its weight and balance were off; 
having held Truthseeker only moments before, Dain was painfully aware of this fact. He struggled with 
the sword, fighting it as much as he fought his opponent, who kept him hard pressed.

 Severgard was a magicked blade, but it had none of the advantages of god-steel. It did not shatter the 
Believers weapon. It could not cut through his obsidian armor. With every blow, Dain felt the Believers 
strength jolt through his blade, his wrists, and his arms. He was tiring, sweating heavily inside his hauberk, 
and all the while in the back of his mind he was cursing himself for having foolishly thrust Truthseeker into 
that last man.

 How many times in sword drills had Sir Polquin taught him and the other fosters never to run a 
mounted man through? Always cut, but never stab. Not while in the saddle. 
Hed made a terrible error, a green boys error, and now he was paying for it. It was only by Thods 
grace and Alexeikas generosity that he was still armed and able to fight at all.

 Determined to prevail, Dain stopped defending himself and instead swung aggressively, feinting, then 
striking low, just above the fire-knights hipbone. The blade bounced off the stone armor, unable to cut 
through it. Had the man been wearing normal chain mail, it would have been a mortal blow. Ignoring his 
disappointment, swiftly Dain reversed his swing and brought Severgard up to meet the Believers 
response.

 The sword was no longer fighting him, but it remained something lifeless in his hands. Dain sent his 


mind to it in appeal.

mind to it in appeal.

 The Believer got in past Dains guard and struck his upper arm. It was a glancing blow that did no 
damage, but the jolt of it was a warning. Gritting his teeth, Dain swung back in a fury, striking again and 
again with all his skill and might.

 The Believer faltered a little. His guard slipped more than once, only to recover before Dain could take 
advantage of it. Clearly the Believer was tiring too, although not as much as Dain. With leaden arms, Dain 
forced himself to keep fighting. When he saw smoke curl through the slits of the fire-knights visor, he felt 
a weary stab of alarm. What was this creature if not a man? And if he was Nonkind, why didnt 
Severgards magical power come alive?

 Nearby, the others fought equally hard. Heartened by the shouts and ringing steel, knowing his 
comrades refused defeat, Dain kept on, but he was grunting now with every blow he delivered and 
feeling a burn in his arms that warned him he had little strength left.

 Knowing that he would soon falter from exhaustion, Dain sang Severgards song raggedly, although 
such notes were hard for his throat to imitate. He sang them anyway, panting between notes as he 
sweated and fought against his indefatigable foe.

 Severgard shuddered in his hands. He felt its power come reluctantly to life, flashing from hilt to sword 
tip in an instant, and making the blade glow white.

 The Believer shouted something in Gantese and tilted his head away, as though it hurt him to gaze on 
that glowing light. Seiz-ing his momentary advantage, Dain swung Severgard with all his strength.

 The blow overpowered the Believers defense. He went reeling back, toppling from his saddle to roll 
over in the snow. The advantage was now Dains. Kicking Soleil faster, he swung Severgard high and 
charged. The fire-knight regained his feet, but he did not parry, did not even look up at Dain. Instead, he 
shifted his stance as Soleil came at him, and with one powerful blow sliced through the horses throat a 
split second before Dains sword hit him.

 A spray of blood splattered the snow and blew back across Dains thighs. In mid-stride, Soleil went 
down, crashing to his side and kicking his legs convulsively as his powerful heart pumped his life away.

 Knocked flying from the saddle in the fall, Dain hit hard and tumbled over twice from the impetus of 
impact.

 Although his mind urged him up, he lay mere a moment, half-stunned. Blearily he saw Soleil lying on 
blood-soaked snow, the horses strength, beauty, and speed gone forever. It was impossible to believe, 
too terrible to believe. Dain wanted to close his eyes and just lie there, but he knew better.

 Somehow he forced himself to his hands and knees, shaking his head in an effort to get his wits 
moving. He saw a shadow rushing at him, and desperately lifted Severgard.

 He was too slow, too dazed from his fall.

 The Believer hed been fighting knocked Severgard from his hands, then kicked him hard in the ribs. 
Wheezing from having all the wind driven out of his lungs, Dain toppled onto his side and knew he was 
finished.

 Dain! Sir Terent bellowed in the distance. Dain, no!

 Looming over him, the fire-knight lowered his sword, and Dain expected him to drive it through his 
heart in a final thrust. Instead, he nudged Dains leg with his toe.

 Up, he said.

 At first Dain could not believe his ears; then he realized he was to be made a prisoner.

 A sickening sense of defeat flowed over him as he floundered unsteadily to his feet.

 A short distance away, Alexeika was screaming defiance. Dain saw her crouched with Thums sword 
in her hands, turning while a Believer circled her. They sprang at each other and engaged in a swift flurry 
of blows, but a moment later she cried out in pain and her sword went spinning from her hand. She drew 
a dagger and hurled it, but the Believer batted it aside and grabbed her. Shrieking, she tried to stab him 
with her remaining weapon, but could not pierce his armor. Then she was knocked to the ground and 
pinned there by her opponents foot.

 Only then did Dain see Sir Alard lying on the ground and Sir Terent kneeling in defeat with two 


opponents holding their weapons on him. Blood streamed down his face, and his head was bowed.

opponents holding their weapons on him. Blood streamed down his face, and his head was bowed.

 The Believer who had defeated Dain held his sword aimed warily at Dains throat, as though he 
expected Dain to give him more trouble. I am Quar, he said. His voice was rough and guttural. You 
are my prisoner, Faldain of Nether.

 Dain gritted his teeth and forced himself to speak calmly. Raise your visor, Quar. Let me see who has 
captured me.

 He intended to hurl his dagger into the mans eye if he could get him to raise his visor, but Quar only 
laughed. It was a low, horrid sound, like stone grating on stone. Smoke curled forth from beneath the 
mans helmet, and Dain caught a whiff of something charred.

 My face is not for you to see, Faldain, the Believer said. I have walked through the fire of Ashnod. 
I live in fire, for his glory. And for his glory will your blood be served to him.

 Dain swallowed hard. Youre taking us to Gant?

 You, I take to Gant. You will be served to Ashnod.

 Then let my friends go, Dain said quickly. You have no need of them. Spare their lives and release 
them.

 Turning partially away from Dain, Quar gestured at the men standing over Sir Terent. Cht kvmstyk 
mut!

 One of the Believers reached down and yanked off Sir Ter-ents mail coif. The other swung his sword 
in one swift, flashing blow.

 Sir Terents head went rolling across the ground beneath the feet of a horse. While the animal neighed 
and pranced in fright, Sir Terents body toppled over.

 Dain stared openmouthed, unable to believe it. So swiftly, so cruelly had it happened, he could not 
absorb the horror of it. Sir Terent had been their prisoner, disarmed. He had surrendered and was at 
their mercy. The casual brutality of Quars order stunned

 Dain.

 He slowly wrenched his gaze away from the gruesome sight of the man who had befriended him, 
trained him, protected him, and served him with the most loyal heart of all. Quar met Dains gaze steadily 
but said nothing.

 Thats when the rage came, a fury that burned away everything inside Dain and left only a white-hot 
force. He felt the anger flash through him, then he shouted, and his rage came forth like flames of power, 
knocking Quar reeling.

 Ducking recklessly under Quars sword, Dain drove his shoulder into the mans gut, pushing him 
backward with all his might as he drew his dagger.

 Still shouting words that cracked and trembled in the air, Dain struck at Quar again and again, but his 
dagger point skidded harmlessly off the stone armor. Quars fist, sheathed by an obsidian-encrusted 
glove, smashed into Dains face.

 The world blackened and shrank in an instant. Dain staggered backward, feeling as though hed been 
sucked into a vortex. It pulled him down before he could even struggle, and he was smothered in dark 
nothing.

 Part Three

 For days, Gavril waited in vain for an audience with King Muncel as though he were nothing more than 
an emissary. It was a terrible insult, and with every passing day Gavrils temper grew more frayed. Truly 
he had come to a land of barbarians.

 He was given the run of one wing of Count Mradviors palatial house, but he quickly discovered that 
aside from a handful of graciously furnished chambers, the rest of the building stood empty.

 Denied the most basic amusements, Gavril prowled restlessly through the desolate, unheated rooms, 
preoccupied with finding a way to escape his trap. A trap he still blamed on Verence.

 Father, you fool! Gavril muttered aloud as he paced up and down. Why do you delay? Why do 
you not hurry? 


 Hed written several letters to Verence, until hed figured out that Mradvior was burning them.

 Hed written several letters to Verence, until hed figured out that Mradvior was burning them.

 Mradvior. Tanengard could not harm them. In sheer frustration, hed even tried throwing a chair 
through a window, but the glass would not break.

 Megala came searching for him. Your highness

 What are you doing away from your post? he asked in annoyance. Get back to Lady Pheresa at 
once.

 The serving woman curtsied deeply. I ask pardon of your highness, she said nervously, twisting her 
hands together. The lady has sent me to fetch you.

 Gavril was startled. Shes awake?

 Aye, your highness. Weak and doing poorly, but

 He strode out of the room, with Megala trotting at his heels. When theyd first arrived in this terrible 
place, Mradviors wife had stolen Pheresas ball gown, for apparently it was dyed a shade of blue 
impossible to obtain in Nether. Thereafter, theyd ignored her, for she gave them little amusement.

 Presently Pheresa was installed in a tiny chamber hardly large enough to hold her encasement and the 
guardians. Sometimes her room was heated; sometimes it was not. More guardians had collapsed, until 
now she had only six to hold the spell together. Gavril could not believe Pheresa remained alive. Her 
survival had seemed tenuous enough when thered been thirteen guardians, let alone less than half that 
number.

 Now, as he hurried into her tiny, poorly lit chamber, he hoped that she was finally dying. Shed 
suffered long enough, and the Netherans werent going to help her. Why should she not at last have the 
relief of death?

 At first, Gavril had considered it both noble and tragic to have his betrothed stricken this way. The 
spells, the encasement, and the trappings necessary to preserve her life had lent the situation a certain 
dignity, as had the dangerous quest to save her. She remained beautiful, and her helpless vulnerability 
rendered her appealing to him. During their journey, Gavril had felt proud of himself for taking such good 
care of her. In return, shed shown him gratitude, and hed felt sure that once she was cured, she would 
become a dutiful, compliant wife.

 But the quest had ended in failure, and Pheresa wasnt going to be saved. Instead, she was dying 
slowly and terribly. He gazed at her now where she lay within a dim circle of candle-light. She wore a 
dingy white gown of cheap cloth, plain of embellishment and so poorly constructed that one of the 
sleeves was noticeably shorter than the other. Her thick reddish-gold hair lay matted to her skull like dull 
straw, and her eyes were deeply sunk into their sockets.

 A dark cloud settled over his spirits, and he bowed his head, feeling a tangle of resentment, self-pity, 
and deep unhappiness. It was one thing to undertake a difficult endeavor with shining confidence and 
every hope of success; it was quite another to stand among the ruins of failure and despair.

 The shining glass encasement had grown dusty and scratched. There was something tawdry about it 
allthe plainness of the dying girl, her cheap gown, the stink of a sickroom, the desperate exhaustion so 
obvious in the few remaining guardians kneeling around her.

 Feeling repulsed, Gavril lifted his head and took a step back from her. For this, he had risked his life. 
For this, he now was kept prisoner in this vile place. He turned to leave, but at that moment Pheresa 
opened dull, unfocused eyes.

 Gavril could barely stand to look at her pale face and wasting form. In that moment he despised her 
for what shed become as much as for what shed brought him to.

 Gavril. Her voice was the merest whisper, and she struggled to smile. Sweet prince, you are still 
with me. 

Still chained to you, he thought, and averted his face without reply.

 Dont weep for me, she said. My dearest prince, how good you are. I didnt think you loved me at 
first. Now I know that you care deeply. Youve done so much for me. Thank you, my love. 


 Overwhelmed with revulsion and embarrassment, Gavril felt as though hed been swept by fire. Her 
words made her even more pathetic, and he was filled with the urge to turn on her viciously, to say how 
he hated her, how shed put him in the gravest danger, how he wished hed never known her. He felt like 
shattering the encasement and stabbing her through the heart. Even then, he decided contemptuously, she 
would probably think him a hero for releasing her from this misery.

 Overwhelmed with revulsion and embarrassment, Gavril felt as though hed been swept by fire. Her 
words made her even more pathetic, and he was filled with the urge to turn on her viciously, to say how 
he hated her, how shed put him in the gravest danger, how he wished hed never known her. He felt like 
shattering the encasement and stabbing her through the heart. Even then, he decided contemptuously, she 
would probably think him a hero for releasing her from this misery.

 Dont blame yourself, she whispered. Her brown eyes gazed up at him with tenderness. You tried 
your very best. I love you for that. My last prayers will be for you.

 As her voice drifted off, her eyes fell closed. Choking, Gavril retreated from her while Megala hurried 
forward to tend her mistress.

 Is she ... dead? he asked hoarsely, gripping his sword hilt while Tanengard chanted Death, death, 
death, death in his mind. Nay, your highness, Megala replied. The sweet lady sleeps again. But her 
fever burns strong today. The physicians have not come to her recently. Where are they? Can nothing be 
done to ease her suffering?

 Gavril envisioned endless months imprisoned here, trapped by the guards, trapped by the terrible cold 
and snow outside, trapped by this maiden who would not die. His brain felt as though ants were crawling 
inside it. He wanted to scream, and then to laugh. Above all, he wanted to draw Tanengard and behead 
each of the remaining guardians. Then Pheresa would die. And then ... he would still be a prisoner. Your 
highness?

 Gavril shot Megala a wild look, then whirled around and fled the room. He collared the first servant he 
encountered. Your master. I want him at once!

 The servant looked bewildered. Count wants you, he replied in his thick Netheran accent. I come 
to bring you.

 A little surprised, for he hadnt spoken to the count in days, Gavril followed the servant to the 
sumptuous chamber where hed first met Mradvior. It seemed to be the counts favorite room. When 
Gavril arrived, the count was sitting near the warm tiled stove, sipping spiced wine from a 
jewel-encrusted cup and munching on toasted nuts.

 He grinned at Gavril and raised his cup in greeting. Your highness! he said merrily. I have a surprise 
for you. Tonight begins the festival of lights. It is a great favorite here in Grov. I shall take you in a sleigh 
down to the river if you give your word not to

 I want to see the king, Gavril said angrily.

 Yes, yes, it takes time. But the festival is really

 A plague on your festival! I want to see the king! I demand to see him.

 Tossing more nuts in his mouth, Mradvior shrugged. Why? Your royal father will pay your ransom. 
Be patient, and enjoy yourself. Enjoy Netheran hospitality.

 No, thank you, Gavril snapped. I have asked repeatedly for audience with King Muncel. What is 
necessary to achieve it? Bribes? Promises of

 No, no, no. Mradvior grew serious. You are fine prince, fine young man. I like you. And so I will 
give you advice. Is good the king has not sent for you. He pointed at Gavril. You do not ever tell him I 
say this to you, eh?

 Gavril shrugged. I want to see him. Now, with no more delay.

 Why?

 Gavrils anger swelled inside him. That is no concern of yours.

 If you have question, or request, ask me. I will find out answer.

 No, Gavril said through his teeth. I want to speak to the king myself.

 Is not good for you to do this, Mradvior insisted.

 Morde a day! Gavril screamed, losing his temper completely. He drew Tanengard and used it to 
smash a small table to pieces.

 Mradvior jumped to his feet, dropping his fancy cup and scattering the toasted nuts over the floor. His 
protector came running, but Gavril turned aside from the count and started pacing back and forth. I 


want to see the king! he shouted, still brandishing his sword. Make it so, Lord Mradvior, and do it 

want to see the king! he shouted, still brandishing his sword. Make it so, Lord Mradvior, and do it 

 As you command, Mradvior said warily. So will I inquire.

 Insist, damn you! Dont inquire!

 Bowing repeatedly, Mradvior backed away from him and beckoned to two of his guards. Watch his 
highness, he said in a low voice. Do not let him destroy more furniture.

 Overhearing, Gavril snorted to himself with bleak amuse-ment and kept pacing back and forth. It 
pleased him to hold Tanengard in his hands, pleased him to swing it about and attack imaginary foes.

 After a long while, one of Mradviors minions came for him, followed by a servant carrying Gavrils 
cloak and gloves. Smiling, Gavril put them on and followed the man outside.

 Snow was falling, and the air felt damp and bitterly cold. Shivering beneath his heavy cloak, Gavril 
climbed into the horse-drawn sleigh next to Mradvior and allowed servants to spread a heavy robe of 
beyar fur across his lap. Mounted guards, snow collecting in the folds of their fur hats, surrounded the 
sleigh.

 An order was given, and the sleigh went racing toward the tall gates, which swung open at their 
approach. The gliding smoothness of the sleigh amazed Gavril. It was far more comfortable than a 
wagon.

 The mounted guards stayed close, pressing on all sides, so that it was impossible to see anything of the 
streets or the city.

 Mradviors dark mustache turned white with snow. He sat tensely, looking neither right nor left. A 
large basin of salt was balanced on his lap, and in his hand he clutched a long dagger. He seemed 
unwilling to talk to Gavril.

 The prince wondered what Mradvior was afraid of, yet the count seemed unwilling to talk. At last they 
passed through a set of tall gates and wound through a wood up a short hill to a castle fortress. An entire 
army seemed to be camped on the grounds. Gantese marched by, and in the distance Gavril heard an 
animal bugle loudly.

 He jumped, his heart thudding in his chest. A shapeshifter? he gasped out.

 Darsteed, Mradvior told him without expression. Foul creatures.

 In its scabbard, Tanengard glowed white. Gripping the hilt for courage, Gavril saw a black, scaly 
monster that looked like a dogbut that was much larger, and horriblego padding around the corner 
of a tent. His mouth went dry, and his grip tightened.

 Thatthat beast, he said breathlessly.

 Hmm? I didnt see it.

  Twas vile, Gavril said. Like a He stopped, unable to go on.

 Mradvior stared at him. Havent you seen Nonkind before?

 Of course I have! I Gavril thought of the shapeshifter, a horrifying, shrieking, winged creature that 
had clawed him with its talons. He still bore deep scars on his legs, still remembered his terror, still 
recalled how his gold Circle had not deflected the monsters attack.

 Suddenly the bowl of salt that Mradvior held made perfect sense. Staring at it, Gavril swallowed hard.

 Have you any salt in your pockets? Mradvior asked him, proffering the bowl. Take some.

 Gavril frowned, affronted as always by the mans familiarity, and turned his head away. No, thank 
you.

 Take some. Is best to be prepared.

 Nothing would dare attack me, Gavril said, and heard the hollow bravado in his voice. Certainly 
not in the presence of your king.

 If you want to think so. But is never good, to be in presence of king.

 Gavril ignored him.

 The sleigh crossed a moat and drawbridge into what seemed more like a cave than a fortress. They 
passed through a long, rough-hewn tunnel, the runners scraping noisily over paving stones, before they 
eventually emerged in a cramped courtyard surrounded by towering walls.

 Here, the sleigh stopped. Gavril and Mradvior climbed out. The guards dismounted and flanked them 


on either side as they walked up a set of massive stone steps to enter the fortress through a set of tall, 
thick doors studded with nails.

on either side as they walked up a set of massive stone steps to enter the fortress through a set of tall, 
thick doors studded with nails.

 They climbed a flight of steps into a gallery of long cham-bers, where one opened directly into another. 
Again, there were no windows, only a few arrow slits cut high up into the walls. Snow drifted through 
these openings, and icy drafts whipped through the rooms.

 Fur- and velvet-clad courtiers huddled in small clusters. Some were dicing or playing assorted games 
next to charcoal braziers. Others plinked mournful tunes on lutes and zithrens. And a few talked and 
drank, passing dishes of little morsels from one to another.

 They stared at Gavril openly, making no attempt to mask their curiosity. He walked with his chin held 
high, annoyed by having to come here under close guard, without his entourage, his heralds, his banners, 
or the usual fanfare. He was mortified by such treatment, yet with his gloves held elegantly in one hand 
and the other resting on his sword hilt, he swaggered along like the prince he was, staring back at the 
curious with all the hauteur he possessed.

 He wore a fur-lined doublet of pale blue velvet today, tied with lacings of silver. His snowy, 
immaculate linen showed at the throat. His leggings and boots were made of supple leather, and his 
sword belt was chased with silver. His bracelet of royalty glinted gold on his wrist, and his dark blue eyes 
glowed with defiance and contempt for this ragged, ill-mannered court.

 They came at last to a closed door, guarded by knights who held pikes across it. An official shivering 
in a woolen cloak lurked there.

 Mradvior spoke very softly to him, and the official shot Gavril a wide-eyed look before slipping past 
the guards into the chamber.

 The king waits in yon room? Gavril asked.

 Mradvior bowed and nodded. He seemed nervous.

 Gavril turned around and began to pace back and forth. I will not be kept waiting like this. Let 
whomever his majesty is receiving be sent out, that I may enter.

 As though someone had overheard him, the guards stepped aside and the door swung open. Young 
pagespallid, scrawny boys with frightened eyeshurried out, crying, Make way! Make way!

 Mradvior drew a sharp breath and jumped aside. As he did so he gripped Gavrils sleeve to pull him 
out of the way. Unhand me! Gavril said. How dare you! The count shot him a look of warning. Be 
quiet, be quiet, he whispered, glancing past Gavril and bowing low. Call no attention to yourself.

 Puzzled, Gavril swung back just as a litter of carved and gilded wood was carried out by eight 
sweating bearers. Cushioned with scarlet, purple, and gold silk and adorned with long tassels that swung 
and bobbed, the litter contained a creature such as Gavril could not even have imagined. It might have 
been a man ... once. But its skin was charred to a black, leathery texture from the top of its knobby, 
hairless skull all the way to the elongated, bare feet protruding from the hem of its silk robes. Its hands 
were strangely shaped, very narrow with fingers of unusual length. Each digit ended in a long, black talon 
that looked needle-sharp. A stink of sulfur and brimstone hung about this apparition. Draped on its neck 
was a collar studded with enormous rubies that glowed blood red.

 Gavrils jaw dropped and, ignoring Mradviors surreptitious tug at the hem of his doublet, he stared 
openly. The creature lifted its gaze to his and stared back. It had a mans eyes, distinctly human no matter 
what the rest of him looked like.

 No word was spoken between them. Gavril barely drew breath. He could make no sound. Inside, his 
heart was hammering as though hed run a long distance.

 Certain he was gazing on the god of darkness itself, Gavril fumbled inside his doublet for his gold 
Circle and clutched it hard.

 The creature went on its way, and Gavril saw three other vile things emerge from the chamber in its 


wake. Huge and moon-faced, they stank of carrion. As they shambled past him, Gavril felt a nameless 
unease coil about his entrails.

wake. Huge and moon-faced, they stank of carrion. As they shambled past him, Gavril felt a nameless 
unease coil about his entrails.

 Those were magemons, Mradvior said. Taken away, it looks to be. The king will be angry. 
What are magemonsT

 Gantese magicians. Very powerful. Yes, yes, makers of very powerful magic. Very dangerous. 
Sorcereh work alone, but magemons cast their spells in teams. Very strong. Mradvior frowned. Is 
against Writ to have them here. The king dares much.

 Feeling as though hed been struck, Gavril stared at the count and found nothing to say.

 Mradvior scuttled away, beckoning to the official, who had now reappeared. The two put their heads 
together and consulted in whispers.

 Gavril turned and stared down the gallery at the departing magemons and the burned creature. 
Forbidden, blasphemous purveyors of magic ... everything that was wrong and unholy. To even see such 
as they was to be defiled. And Muncel openly consorted with such unspeakable evil. It was amazing, 
Gavril thought in shock, that Thod had not struck the king down for the evil he did.

 Best to go, Mradvior said, returning. Best to come another day.

 Certainly not, Gavril said with a huff. I will not be brushed off like a mere courtier. How dare you 
suggest it.

 Is better to be gone when king is angry, your highness, Mradvior said.

 Disdaining the mans cowardice, Gavril stepped past the count. Announce me, he said to the official 
hovering at the doorway.

 The man only stared at him with bulging eyes. From inside the kings chamber came a howl of temper, 
followed by a shattering crash.

 Blanching, the official retreated.

 Come away, your highness, Mradvior called softly. Is not a good time.

 Ignoring him, Gavril walked unannounced into the kings chamber, where he saw a cluster of 
wary-eyed courtiers on one side of a large, sparsely furnished room. Pacing back and forth before a 
heavily carved throne was a black-haired man garbed in a long velvet tunic trimmed with ermine at cuffs 
and hem. A half-grown lyng, wearing a studded collar and tethered by a chain, lay near the throne, idly 
switching its tail and watching the proceedings through slitted, feral eyes. Servants were crouched on their 
knees, foreheads touching the floor. An overturned table lay in the midst of broken glass. Wine spread in 
a large puddle from the mess.

 Those who noticed Gavrils entrance ignored him. The king busy pacing and gesticulatingpaid 
Gavril no heed either.

 This meddling goes too far, Tulvak Sahm, he said furiously to a tall, foreign-looking man clad in long 
robes and a peaked hat. I will not submit to it!

 Your majesty has no choice ... at present, the man replied in a quiet, singsong voice.

 Although they were speaking in Netheran, Gavril understood what they were saying. Since childhood, 
hed been thoroughly versed in the languages of all Mandrias allies. That did not mean, however, that he 
would deign to speak anything but his own language.

 Short of shouting to bring attention to himself, there was nothing to do but wait. Gavril glanced around. 
As an audience chamber, this room was half the size of Savroixs. Paneled with wood painted in gaudy 
colors and lit with torches, it held no fine art at all. A tiled stove checkered in colors of bright blue and 
red radiated the first heat Gavril had felt since entering this appalling fortress. An enormous mobile of 
kings glass, cut into rectangular prisms, quivered and danced in the air, singing softly as it refracted light.

 A plague on Gant! the king shouted. A plague on the Chief Believer and the minion he has sent to 
interfere with me! I will not stand for such interference.

 Majesty has no

 Bah! I had the pretender in my grasp, the king said, clenching his fist. All I had to do was squeeze 


the life from him, Tulvak Sahm. But now he is to be saved.

the life from him, Tulvak Sahm. But now he is to be saved.

 The rabble will make a martyr of him, Muncel said. It will cause more unrest.

 But the pretender will still be dead, Tulvak Sahm murmured.

 Gavrils wandering attention suddenly focused on what they were saying. The pretender they 
referred to could only be Dain, pagan fiend that he was.

 So your majestys men have captured the upstart, Gavril said loudly, daring to interrupt the kings 
conversation despite Mradviors hiss of warning. He walked forward, clapping his hands together. Well 
done.

 A knight clad in a mail hauberk and fur-trimmed surcoat stepped into Gavrils path. Halt! 
Gavril struck a disdainful pose, but obeyed. Angered to be treated like some oaf, he told himself these 
Netherans clearly had no understanding of the proper deference due a prince of royal blood. 
Again, your majesty, I say well done, he called out in Mandrian.  Twas my intention to bring 
Faldain to you in chains as a gift, but, alas, he escaped my men through vile trickery.

 Muncel stared at Gavril in astonishment. Far from a handsome man, at this close range the king looked 
even less well-favored. Lines of dissipation were grooved around his eyes and mouth, and his mouth was 
pinched together. His deep-set brown eyes held chronic dissatisfaction. Gray streaked his black hair and 
beard, making him look older than he probably was. Stooped and perhaps shortsighted, he lacked the 
aura of noble majesty which rested so impressively on Verences broad shoulders.

 Who is this? he asked.

 Belatedly the official at the door announced, Your majesty, the Prince of Mandria!

 Gavril stood proudly with his head held high, pleased to be the center of attention at last. I am Prince 
Gavril of Mandria, he said, giving the correct form of his title. Heir to the Realm.

 Pointing at him, Muncel laughed. So, Mradvior! You have brought the little cock to me, eh? How he 
does crow and strut.

 Some of the courtiers present joined in the kings derisive laughter.

 Heat flooded Gavrils face and burned the tips of his ears, but calling on all his willpower, he managed 

to keep his temper. I thank your majesty for granting me this audience. 
Muncels laughter died. He swung around to the tall, odd-looking man standing beside him. Eh? he 
said sharply. What does he say? 
The man translated. 
I have been a guest in your majestys fair city for many days now, Gavril continued, pausing 

occasionally to allow translation. It is time your majesty and I had a discussion. I want

 Has the ransom come? Muncel broke in.

 Nay, your majesty, replied a courtier with a deep bow. King Verence has sent no reply to your 
majestys demands.

 Muncel leaned forward, peering at the man who spoke. Nothing?

 Not a single word.

 Muncels face turned purple. He swung around and glared at Gavril. That southern dog! I hold his 
son and heir, and still he defies me. Gant meddles. Mandria ignores me. What is next? War?

 If your majesty will hear me, Gavril said impatiently.

 Muncel gestured angrily. Get rid of him.

 When the protector shoved Gavril back, the princes temper snapped and he drew Tanengard. How 
dare you touch me! he shouted.

 Even as the courtiers called out in alarm, the protector drew his weapon and attacked. Gavril parried, 
expecting his mag-icked sword to easily vanquish this opponent. But everything seemed to go wrong at 
once. The protector had the strength of three men. He overpowered Gavril and knocked Tanengard 
from his hands in the first exchange of blows.

 Before he knew what was happening, Gavril found himself flat on the floor with the protectors sword 
at his throat. 


 Dazed by how fast it had happened, Gavril dared not move. His heart was pounding, and to his shame 
he was afraid that he would die here and now.

 Dazed by how fast it had happened, Gavril dared not move. His heart was pounding, and to his shame 
he was afraid that he would die here and now.

 It will be paid! Gavril said through his teeth. And to the last dreit. That, I swear!

 What? Muncel asked Tulvak Sahm. He says it will be paid?

 Yes, majesty. He swears it.

 Stooping, Muncel peered down at Gavril. His eyes were like stone. They held no humanity, 
compassion, or mercy. Gavril reflected that the burned creature whod ridden out of here on that fancy 
litter had eyes more human than Muncels. Here, he thought with a shudder, is true evil.

 Tulvak Sahm picked up Tanengard and examined the weapon with interest. A magicked blade, 
majesty, he said, sounding amused. Poorly made. Shall I let your majesty hear its song?

 No, Gavril whispered, agonized with jealousy. No one was supposed to hear Tanengard except 
himself. It was his and his alone.

 There are spells and lures woven through the metal, Tulvak Sahm said, letting his fingertips brush the 
blade lightly. Look at him, majesty. Hes caught fast like a moth in a spiders web. See how much he 
hates it that I hold his sword?

 Muncel barely glanced at Tanengard. The workmanship is terrible. Break it.

 No! Gavril cried out before he could stop himself. With his last remnants of pride, he barely kept 
himself from pleading.

 And do I release him from its spell first? Tulvak Sahm asked, tilting his head to one side. His strange, 
slanted eyes regarded Gavril coldly. He will go mad if he is not released before it is destroyed.

 Muncel walked over to his throne and sat down. He looked petulant and bored. I care not.

 It is best, majesty, to keep him in good health until he is ransomed. Verence may demand verification 
of his well-being before he pays.

 Verence is a lying dog! Muncel said harshly. And full of trickery. Clearly he cares nothing for this 
boy. He must have other sons.

 He does not! Gavril declared hotly.

 The Netherans exchanged speculative glances, and Gavril re-alized it would have been wiser to keep 
quiet. Swallowing hard, he burned with humiliation.

 Is this how you treat your equals? he asked, feeling he had nothing left to lose. This discourtesy, 
these constant insults ... they ill-become a monarch. But then, you are only a king by theft and treachery.

 Muncel jumped to his feet. Get him out! Get him out!

 The protector grabbed Gavril by the front of his doublet and shoved him from the chamber with such 
force that he fell sprawling on the floor. Gavril heard the door slam shut behind him, cutting off the babble 
and noise inside.

 Seething, he picked himself up slowly, glad hed delivered some insults of his own. Really, Muncel was 
nothing but an arrogant monster, a ruffian, a usurper, nothing more.

 Mradvior hurried to help Gavril up. Come, come, he said in haste. We go. We must hurry.

 You are not to touch me! Gavril roared at him.

 But Mradvior gripped his sleeve anyway. We go now. You have made the king more angry than 
before. Is not good to stay here.

 Planting his feet, Gavril wrenched his arm free. Ill go nowhere without my sword! he shouted. They 
are not to break it. Not to dishonor me like this. They have no right to

 You fool! Forget the sword. We must go before the king orders you killed on the spot, and me with 
you.

 Still protesting, Gavril was whisked from the moldering fortress and packed into the sleigh. Climbing in 
beside him, Mradvior shouted orders at the driver, and back they went through the city. Dusk was falling 
now.

 Howling for alms, beggars ran beside them in the streets. Mradvior ignored them and the guards kept 
the beggars away from the sleigh. Gavril huddled under the furs and paid no attention. All he could think 


about was Tanengard and how Muncels minion had stolen it from him. He wanted it back most 
desperately.

about was Tanengard and how Muncels minion had stolen it from him. He wanted it back most 
desperately.

 I should not have brought you here, he said over and over.

 I should not. I was fool to bring you to the king. But you are bigger fool to insult him. Thod! The 
kings temper is terrible thing. And now ... now perhaps I am ruined.

 Why do you snivel so? Gavril asked indifferently. His hands stroked Tanengards empty scabbard. 
Why are you not quiet?

 Mradvior drew in a sharp breath. Do you realize nothing? In morning I could face orders for 
execution. My house, my family all could be destroyed. Like that. He snapped his fingers. All because 
you insult the king.

 Your fate has nothing to do with me, Gavril said with a shrug.

 Visibly fuming, Mradvior sat rigidly on the seat beside Gavril, silent all the way back to the gates of his 
house.

 The guards pushed away the rabble that crowded up next to the sleigh as it slipped through the gates. 
When pikesmen attacked the crowd, the guards galloped inside, urging the sleigh before them. The gates 
shut with a clang, while the people shouted pleas for food, for money, for mercy ... unheeded completely 
by both Gavril and Mradvior.

 Gavril found the heat inside the house a blessing. Until then, he had not realized how thoroughly chilled 
he was. Pulling off his cloak, he glanced around, but Mradvior was already hurrying away into another 
part of the house, leaving him behind with the servants.

 Gavril shrugged. King Muncel was an ill-tempered lout, and Mradvior was a whining fool. It had been 
a wasted afternoon, and now hed lost Tanengard.

 As Gavril was ordering his supper, a loud series of knocks sounded on the front portal. A few minutes 
later, Mradvior hurried past to meet the messenger.

 Shortly thereafter the count approached Gavril, with a small squadron of guards following at his heels. 
Pointing at the stairs, Mradvior issued orders in rapid-fire Netheran. The guards trotted off in that 
direction as the count turned to Gavril.

 Now it begins, he said heavily. Orders have come from his majesty. You leave my house tonight. 
You and the lady.

 We are released? Gavril asked in delight. Aha! I knew if I could but see his majesty that

 Do not mock this, your highness. Of course you are not released.

 Gavrils sense of relief crashed to his feet. In its place came alarm, which he tried to mask with a 
sneer. I see. Holding us prisoner is unconscionable. We should be set free.

 You are to be moved to old Palace of Runtha and kept there until you are ransomed.

 Gavril frowned, thinking of the fortress hed visited today. The kings own

 Nay, Palace of Runtha. The old place of kings. From before ... before everything changed. It is a 
ruin, but not all of it has been torn down. You will live there, with your guards. The lady too.

 Shes too ill to be moved, Gavril protested.

 Your highness should have thought of her before you insulted the king.

 He insulted me first! Gavril said defensively, then stopped himself, for clearly he wasnt going to 
prevail.

 From outside the room he heard the marching cadence of bootsteps. Someone rapped loudly on the 
panels, and the door swung open to reveal the contingent of guards, cloaked and heavily armed, returning 
from upstairs.

 They shepherded Noncire and four of the guardians inside. One of the latter swooned as soon as he 
crossed the threshold. A burly knight bent and gave him a vigorous shake, only to straighten and look at 
Mradvior with a shrug. 

Vant othyaska, he said.

 Another one dead? Mradvior said with a lift of his heavy brows. Throw him over wall. The poor 


will be glad of some meat.

will be glad of some meat.

 While one of the guards bent to pick up the dead man, Noncire hurried across the room to Gavrils 

side. The cardinal looked pale and strained. 
Gavril. Your highness, he said in quiet urgency. Please intervene on our behalf. 
Mradviors laugh rang out loudly. Look at his eminence quiver! he called. Whats amiss, lord 
cardinal? Does your faith not sustain you now?

 Your highness must intercede, Noncire said. His small dark eyes were as round as possible within 
their folds of fat. Perspiration soaked the collar of his robes. For the love of Thod, your highness, have 
mercy and do not let them take us to Gant.

 Gavril stared at him impatiently. I think your wits have gone. No one is going to Gant. Who told you 
such a thing?

 Please, they

 Gavril shifted his gaze away from Noncires gibbering and pointed imperiously at the guardians. Why 
are they brought here, Lord Mradvior? Its critical that they be left alone.

 Is excessive to have this many guardians, Mradvior said. As the lady dies, is less and less need for 
her to be sustained by so many.

 That is not for you to decide. Send them back to their place, Gavril commanded.

 Mradviors dark gaze did not waver; nor did he obey the order.

 I said

 Your highness spoke clearly, Mradvior broke in. These men, the foreigner especially, he said, 
pointing at Sulein, who looked at Gavril in silent appeal, are superfluous. So says the kings orders. 
I dont believe you. There are no such orders. 
Quiet fell over the room. Mradvior scowled. Take care, young prince, that you do not insult me 

again. You are not among friends.

 Gavril narrowed his eyes. A fire was burning in his temples, stabbing sharp little jabs into his brain.

 Your dogs are destined for the cook pots, Mradvior announced. Your knights and servants can be 
sold into bondage at good prices.

 You do not dare! Gavril said furiously. By the laws of

 Laws? Mradvior broke in with a laugh. They are for the weak and feeble-minded.

 Youre a thief, Mradvior! Gavril said. A thief and a barbarian!

 Pursing his lips, the count turned away. Noncires gaze flicked desperately to Gavril. Placate him, he 

murmured. Use honey, not a wasp sting. Win back his friendship. 
Be silent, Gavril snapped, but despite his annoyance he tried to take Noncires advice. Lord 
Mradvior, reconsider. I have money. I shall pay you well to keep the guardians in place. 
And me, your highness, Noncire murmured beneath his breath. Will you pay him to keep me here 
as well? 
But Mradvior was laughing with both contempt and mockery. Your highness forgets something 

important.

 What is that? Gavril asked haughtily.

 Your money and fine possessions have already been confiscated. Besides, even you did not bring 
enough gold to pay bribes for all your knights and servants.

 I Gavril left his sentence unspoken. He could not believe Mradvior intended to send the church 
knights to Gant as well. Once they were taken away, would he have anyone left with him except a dying 
girl? Fear washed over him, rendering him mute.

 At Mradviors gesture, two guards gripped Noncire by his fat arms. He struggled against them.

 No! he shouted. No! Lord Mradvior, I have a private fortune. It can be yours if you will spare me.

 Gladly would I take your gold, Mradvior replied, but I do not disobey the king.

 But an arrangement can be made, Noncire said, making a grotesque attempt to smile. Surely we 
can reach

 With Noncire struggling all the way, the guards forced him to the door. Please! he called out, 


throwing aside all dignity to beg. Prince Gavril, have pity and help me. Dont let them send me to Gant 

throwing aside all dignity to beg. Prince Gavril, have pity and help me. Dont let them send me to Gant 

 Surely your faith will sustain you, Gavril replied.

 The cardinal stared at him in disbelief. What have you become? he asked.

 The guards pushed him from the room. The door slammed, and he was gone.

 My lord count, Gavril said with a sigh, let us come to fresh terms. I feel we should discuss

 Discussion is over. Mradvior paused next to a table to caress a small box of exquisite wood sitting 
on top of it. Your belongings should be packed by now.

 I refuse to go, Gavril said, tossing his head. I refuse to live in a ruin. Your house

 Is no longer at your disposal, Mradvior said coldly. You go quietly or you go by force. The lady 
has already been loaded on a wagon. Will you ride with her?

 Before he could stop himself, Gavril began laughing. Mradvior looked at him strangely, but Gavril 
could not stop the laughter as he put on his cloak and gloves.

 And my sword? he asked when hed finally regained his breath. Let it be returned to me.

 Mradvior eyed him with something close to pity. You plead for it, but not for the life of your cardinal 
or your men. Truly you are caught in its spell.

 II need it. Gavril swallowed the last dregs of his pride. Please, lord count. I can bear to lose 
anything but Tanengard.

 I think you mean what you say, Mradvior said in wonder.

 Of course I mean it! I must have it with me! Please!

 Mradvior sighed. I will ask. If Nonkind break into the old palace, you will need defense against 
them.

 Nonkind! Gavril said uneasily. You mean

 Is not a good place, Mradvior told him. Is nothing good left in palace of our former kings. Nothing 
good at all.

 The guards escorted Gavril outside into the snowy darkness, where a cold wind bit deep into his 
bones and made him shiver. He climbed into the wagon beside Pheresas encasement. Out near the wall, 
he could see shadowy figures lined up, and as the wagon lurched past he realized they were his church 
soldiers, shackled together and about to be marched away to their terrible fate.

 What is to become of us, Megala moaned, weeping into her hands as she crouched in the wagon.

 Gavril saw the tall gates swing open, and he felt as though the dark city beyond waited to engulf him. 
Forcing himself to sit up straight, he smiled and proudly saluted farewell to his men as he was carted 
away. For surely it was better for a knight and prince to laugh aloud at his enemies than to cower in fear.

 Yet his men did not cheer him as he left them. They did not cheer him at all.

 Night fell over the forest; the wind gusted, bringing sleet and misery; and still the Believers and their 
prisoners rode at a steady trot. Alexeika was so cold she would have wept, had she any tears left inside 
her. The dead menFaldains companions and the slain fire-knights alikehad been abandoned by 
Quar to lie where theyd fallen, unshriven and unburied.

 Now it was late and the sleet was stinging her face. With her hands bound behind her, she couldnt 
pull up her hood for protection. Aching with exhaustion, she worried about Faldain, who was still draped 
unconscious across the back of his horse. His squire Thum swayed in the saddle and made small, 
involuntary grunts of pain whenever his horse jolted him too much. Alexeika worried that if he could not 
continue to ride, the fire-knights would probably kill him.

 Fear kept gripping her entrails. She did not want to be taken to Gant and sacrificed to Ashnod. All her 
life shed heard stories of Gant, of how dreadful it was, of how the taint of evil poisoned the land.

 She glanced at Faldain in the darkness, willing him to wake up. There had to be a way to escape these 
fire-knights. If they ever stopped and camped, she vowed, shed find a way.

 They did not stop. Instead, they rode all night and into the early light of dawn. By then Alexeika was 
reeling in the saddle. Her eyes were gritty and so heavy she could barely hold them open. When they 
finally stopped, and she was pulled off her horse, she lay on the cold ground where they tossed her and 
slept until she was kicked awake. 


 The sun was shining midday-bright. She sat up awkwardly, her arms aching from being bound so long. 
Faldain, she was relieved to see, had also awakened. He sat blinking in the sunshine, with a bleak 
expression of loss and desolation on his face.

 The sun was shining midday-bright. She sat up awkwardly, her arms aching from being bound so long. 
Faldain, she was relieved to see, had also awakened. He sat blinking in the sunshine, with a bleak 
expression of loss and desolation on his face.

 One of their captors walked over and kicked their feet. Get up, he growled. We ride.

 Realizing they werent going to be fed, Alexeika fell over and rolled facedown, scooping as much 
snow into her mouth as she could before she was yanked upright and shoved toward a horse.

 The snow tasted old and bitter. It was so cold it numbed her tongue, but she swallowed it in an effort 
to ease her parched thirst, and longed for more. Her stomach growled loudly, but she knew she could 
last better without food than she could water.

 Quar! Faldain said, twisting in his captors hold when they tried to lift him onto his horse. Quar!

 The leader turned his head and stared at Faldain through his visor. Alexeika had observed that Quar 
seemed to respect the young king a little, possibly as a fellow warrior, but they could not count on this for 
much. She hoped Faldain understood that.

 You must feed us, Faldain said. We are not like you. We need food and water if were to keep 
going.

 Quar looked away. You will last.

 Then at least bind our hands in front. That way, we can

 Escape? Quar broke in harshly. No.

 He signaled, and the other Believers hoisted Faldain into the saddle, then came and tossed Alexeika 
into hers. As they put

 Thum astride his horse, Alexeika noticed that his leg was bleeding again.

 Sire, she said quietly. Your squires wound needs tending.

 Faldain frowned at Thum. How bad is it? Have you fever?

 The red-haired squire shook his head valiantly. Nay, Ill do.

 Hes bleeding, Alexeika said.

 Not much, Thum protested.

 The Believers kicked their horses into that jolting trot that made Alexeikas spine feel as though it 
might snap. Gritting her teeth as her sore muscles protested, she jounced along at the mercy of the 
Believer leading her horse, and ducked a low branch barely in time.

 You must tell me if you feel strange, Faldain said to Thum. If the hurlhound venom wasnt salted 
away thoroughly, fever will grip you. Tell me at once if that happens.

 Thums smile was crooked and strained. And then? Do I become like them? As he spoke he 
nodded at their captors backs.

 Not like them, Faldain said, and stopped with a worried frown to cast a glance of appeal at 
Alexeika.

 You will not become Nonkind, she said in reassurance, wishing shed cauterized his wound with 
Severgard the way she had to Sir Alards arm. Salt was good, but sometimes it did not work as well as it 
should. She did not say that, however; Thum looked scared enough already. But if you keep bleeding, 
you will weaken.

 He nodded, and the two young men began to converse, excluding her. Alexeikas eyes stung, and she 
told herself not to be so sensitive. After all, shed been with them only a few days. They barely trusted 
her. As Faldain had said, they were now comrades, but clearly they were not yet friends.

 She tried to content herself by stealing glances at him. She wanted to help him, to make him smile, to 
see his gray eyes soften toward her. But his heart belonged to another. She wondered what this Lady 
Pheresa looked like. Was she dark or fair? Did she sing and display the acceptable maidenly 
accomplishments? Alexeika imagined her wearing a lovely gown, her long tresses combed into soft 


waves that shone in the candlelight, a piece of exquisite needlework in her white, slender hands. Sighing, 
Alexeika asked herself why Faldain should look twice at a girl with rough, tanned skin, her hair springing 
wild from a sloppy braid, who wore masculine clothing and swore like a hire-lance?

waves that shone in the candlelight, a piece of exquisite needlework in her white, slender hands. Sighing, 
Alexeika asked herself why Faldain should look twice at a girl with rough, tanned skin, her hair springing 
wild from a sloppy braid, who wore masculine clothing and swore like a hire-lance?

 She used to dream of the day when Faldain would regain his throne, thus restoring peace and 
prosperity to the kingdom. She would take her place in his court as a princess of high rank. She would 
wear a gown of silk studded with tiny pearls, and her every movement would shimmer. One glance at her 
would entrance his gaze, and thus would she capture his heart.

 Angrily she now brushed such fantasies aside, telling herself to face reality. Although shed vowed 
never to be taken prisoner again by barbarians after her escape from a Grethori tribe, here she 
wasbound and cold and hungryriding to Gant to die. Although shed pledged herself to the cause of 
helping Nethers rightful king retake his throne, there would be no restoration. Her parents deaths had 
been for nothing. Soon Alexeika would die too, ending the line of Volvn forever.

 Faldain had been this kingdoms last hope, but it was over.

 Dains head was aching. He rode along, weary from too many hours in the saddle, and tried to think of 
ways to escape. As long as they were tied up this way, he could mink of no solution. Soon, if they were 
not given food and water, they would become too weak to try anything.

 Alexeika, at least, was clever enough to take care of herself. Dain had seen her eating snow just 
before they set out again. He wished hed thought of it, for his thirst made him suffer. And Thum was in 
the worst shape of all. Worried that if Thum weakened more Quar would kill him, Dain chattered in an 
effort to encourage his friend.

 Thered been enough killing. Again and again, the image of Sir Terents beheading haunted Dains 
mind. He wished the memory could be less vivid and terrible, yet his grief kept it sharp and all too clear 
no matter how many times he forced it away.

 Sir Terent would not die unavenged; that, he swore with all the determination in his soul. He kept his 
eye on the long bundle that held Truthseeker and Severgard. Wrapped in a cloak, the two swords were 
tied to the back of Quars saddle. Dain longed to get his hands on his weapon, for the next time he fought 
Quar, he vowed to himself he would not lose.

 When Thum tired of talking and fell into a semi-doze, Dain glanced at Alexeika, who was crying. Her 
face remained stoic, but tears kept slipping down her dirty cheeks. The remark Dain had intended died in 
his throat, and he stared at her in consternation. He had not realized she was so afraid. Or perhaps the 
Believers had hurt her in the battle. Frowning in sudden compassion, Dain started to reassure her, but 
something about her averted face and the rigid set of her shoulders warned him to leave her be.

 Still, it unnerved him to see her so vulnerable. Until now, hed taken her toughness for granted. She 
was prickly and fierce, always trying to usurp leadership, voicing her opinions whether anyone wanted 
them or not. Shed offended Sir Terent by wearing red chain mail and carrying weapons like a knight, 
when she had not that rank and deserved no such privileges. Even Thum was not allowed to wear mail, 
and wasnt supposed to fight in battles. Alexeika had ignored all the rules, flaunting her knowledge of 
strategy and combat when she should have stayed quiet.

 Dain frowned, wishing she would not cry. He preferred her to remain tough and boylike. He knew 
how to deal with her in that guise. But if she became maidenly and soft, then he would feel protective and 
worry about her safety. He wished he knew what to say to her.

 Alexeika, he said softly. 
She glanced up, sniffing and blinking rapidly. He knew that had her hands been free she would have 
slapped her tears away. Her face reddened, but she looked at him squarely. 
Yes, sire? 
He kept his voice very low, for he knew not how keen the Believers ears might be. Have you 


marked where your sword is?

marked where your sword is?

 He nodded. I need a way to free my hands.

 It wont do. Theyre alert for trouble. Even if you got free, theyd turn on Thum and me.

 Hed thought of that. I want to try something that will free us both, but I dont want to frighten you.

 A partial smile quirked her lips. She looked fearless. Do it.

 I think I can burn off my ropes. If I can burn yours too

 Try it now, she said eagerly.

 Dain opened his mouth, then sang the first notes of fire.

 In the lead, Quar whirled around in his saddle and pointed at Dain. He uttered a single, guttural word, 
and Dains throat froze. He could not sing or speak. Try as he might, no sound came forth.

 Sire? Thum said worriedly, rousing from his doze. Dain?

 Hush, Alexeika said angrily. His majesty has been silenced.

 Seething with frustration, Dain glared at Quar, but the fire-knight ignored him.

 Within a few minutes, they drew rein short of a stream running swiftly across the road. An ancient, 
crumbling shrine with unfamiliar symbols stood on its bank. With thirst burning his throat, Dain kicked his 
feet free of the stirrups, intending to dismount and drink his fill.

 Stay on horse, Quar ordered. He gestured at his men, and they pulled the prisoners horses closer to 
their own.

 Please, Alexeika said, her word almost a moan. Let us drink.

 Quar wheeled his mount around to face them. We go to Gant now. You keep quiet. Say nothing. Do 
nothing.

 Dain and Thum exchanged puzzled looks, but Alexeika turned white. She began to pray rapidly 
beneath her breath.

 Quar pulled a short baton from his belt and held it aloft. As he rode toward the shrine, he uttered 
words that burned in Dains mind. The baton suddenly began to glow as though lit from within by fire. 
There came a rushing sound, like a strong wind, and Dains horse leaped high. He found himself in 
midair, then the world around him vanished and he plunged through dense gray mist.

 It obscured everything, even the ground and sky. His companions vanished from sight. All he could 
see was his horse.

 The fog flowed damp and cold against his face. He felt as though he were being smothered in it. He 
breathed it in, choking with the old lifelong, irrational panic. He hated fog, had always feared it.

 And now ...

 With a jolt that snapped his teeth together, Dain felt his horse land on solid ground. He blinked and 
squinted against brilliant light.

 The sun blazed down on them from a brassy sky. While the air had been bitterly cold only minutes 
before, now it felt hot and dry. Dain found himself roasting in his fur-lined surcoat and heavy cloak. 
Dazed and disbelieving, he stared at a barren landscape where nothing grewnot one tree, not one 
blade of grass, not even any scrub. Everywhere he looked, he saw an unchanging vista of reddish sand, 
rock outcroppings, and stony ridges. And here, nearby, stood a stone shrine nearly identical to the one 
Dain had just seen by the stream in Nether.

 Undoubtedly by some magical means, they had passed through the second world, leaving Nether to 
arrive here. Dain wondered if such shrines were to be found in upper Mandria and Nold as well. Perhaps 
they were gateways that allowed the Gantese to come and go as they pleased. It would explain how they 
were able to bypass the Charva, which was supposed to keep them in Gant.

 Their captors, having ridden for hours without any evidence of tiring, suddenly seemed exhausted. The 
man holding Dains and Alexeikas reins dropped them and nearly fell from his saddle. Puzzled, but 
determined to seize any advantage he could, Dain kicked his horse hard, but the animal stood with its 
head down, breathing hard, and did not respond.

 Had there been anywhere to run to, Dain would have jumped from the saddle, but this parched, 


barren land daunted him. He could smell the heavy, putrid stench of Nonkind nearby, but although he 
stared hard in every direction, he saw nothing except black shapes flying lazily in the sky. Quar, sagging 
in his saddle, glanced up warily. That alone made Dain decide not to run away, weaponless and bound, 
an easy target for whatever kept circling overhead.

barren land daunted him. He could smell the heavy, putrid stench of Nonkind nearby, but although he 
stared hard in every direction, he saw nothing except black shapes flying lazily in the sky. Quar, sagging 
in his saddle, glanced up warily. That alone made Dain decide not to run away, weaponless and bound, 
an easy target for whatever kept circling overhead.

 After the Believers gulped down the morsels, which seemed to restore their strength immediately, one 
man dismounted and fed bits of the substance to each of the horses. Their heads snapped up and their 
ears pricked forward as they, too, regained their energy.

 Please, Thum said hoarsely. May we not eat?

 The dismounted fire-knight glanced at Quar, then held out a piece to Thum, who bent over awkwardly 
in the saddle to take it. Just as he opened his mouth, however, his face wrinkled in revulsion. Before he 
could draw back, the Believer laughed and crammed it in his mouth. Making a terrible face, Thum 
choked and spat it out.

 Cursing him in Gantese, the Believer dragged him off his horse and shoved him sprawling to the 
ground. While the other fire-knights laughed, the Believer kicked and swore at Thum, who tried 
unsuccessfully to crawl away from him.

 Stop it! Dain shouted, suddenly regaining his voice. Leave him alone!

 Ignoring him, the Believer went on kicking Thum until he lay gasping and shuddering on his side with 
his knees drawn up.

 Get on horse, the Believer said harshly.

 Thum moaned and lay there.

 Thum! Dain said urgently, afraid they would leave him behind. Get up! Do as youre told. Thum!

 Leave him, Quar said.

 No! Horrified, Dain tried to dismount in order to intervene, but Quar spoke and Dain found his feet 
glued to the stirrups. Try as he might, he could not kick them free. We cant leave him here. Thum! You 
must get up. Thuml

 His friend struggled, sat up, fell over, sat up again, and finally knelt, swaying. His face was pasty white.

 Get up, please, Dain said. I need my squire with me. I need you, Thum.

 Once more his friend struggled to gain his feet. Quar growled something impatiently and the other 
Believers walked over to grip Thums arms and hoist him to his feet. Roughly they put him back on his 
horse.

 Thum sagged in the saddle, barely staying on.

 Steady, Dain said, trying to think of what Sir Polquin would have said. Remember youre a Thirst 
man. Show these Gantese dogs what youre made of.

 Aye, Thum said faintly, and slowly pulled himself more erect.

 The Believers mounted their horses, then began to trot across the barren landscape. As they started up 
a long, stony slope, Dain settled himself deeper in the saddle and tried to ignore his growing list of 
discomforts even while the sweat poured down his face and the red dust clouded over them.

 His mind was awash with a flood of sudden memories, for he remembered that hed made other 
journeys through the gray mist. Journeys huddled next to Thia, while she had held something white and 
large in her small hands.

 Do not drop it, Thiatereika, their father had said.

 I wont, my papa, shed replied.

 , Dain now whispered aloud.

 Alexeika glanced at him. What? Its not to be found here. That much is certain.

 He paid her no heed, as amazement filled him. , he said again, thinking of the clear white light which 
had glowed next to him, his sister, and his father, holding back a cold and rainy darkness. His fathers 


sword had glowed with light also, as had a ring which Tobeszijian wore.

sword had glowed with light also, as had a ring which Tobeszijian wore.

 Aye, Quar stole your ruby while you were unconscious.

 He felt as though hed awakened from a very long dream. Turning his head, he stared at Alexeika as 
though hed never seen her before. I know where it is, he said.

 I just said that Quar has it.

 He didnt hear her, for he was remembering it all. That long, tiring journey on his fathers darsteed. 
The cold darkness, the leaps through mist, his fathers fear and worry mingled with courage. Dain 
remembered trying to sleep in a cavet and how hungry hed been. Hed wanted his bed and his nurse 
singing to him by the firelight, but thered been neither. His fathers cloak had smelled of woodsmoke and 
leather. There had been prayers said over a circle of stones. And had shone its white, peaceful light 
within the cave, warming him so that at last he could sleep.

 A shiver passed through him. I know where it is, he said in wonder. Ive remembered.

  of Eternal Life? Alexeika asked in a voice so low he could barely hear her. Her eyes were huge as 
she stared at him.

 Thum was staring at him too, in awe mixed with open-mouthed astonishment.

 Glancing at them both, Dain nodded, then realized this was not the time or the place to talk about the 
sacred vessel. To his relief, Thum and Alexeika seemed to come to the same unspoken realization, for 
with uneasy glances at their captors neither of them asked any questions.

 Dain found it astonishing that memory should return to him now in this desolate place. Tobeszijian had 
hidden in a cave in Nold. He had hidden it with honor, making a sacred place for it, and perhaps it was 
there still. Dain understood that the Ring of Solder was a device similar to Quars baton; somehow its 
power enabled its wearer to pass through the sec-ond world and return. His father had done so in order 
to escape his enemies and keep from harm.

 But how to get there now? Dain wondered. He envisioned the Ring of Solder as hed last seen it, with 
its distinctive carved runes on the band and its large, milky-white stone. If only hed been able to get it 
from Sulein, it might be encircling his finger at this very moment. Then he could have escaped these 
fire-knights. But, nay. He would not have abandoned his friends just to save himself.

 Look! Thum cried.

 At the crest of a hill, they paused. Before them stretched a desolate plain leading to a jagged mountain 
range on the far horizon. A city nestled at the base of the mountains, its domes and spires shimmering 
slightly in the heat. The buildings were the color of dirt and sand.

 A road wound its way toward the city, which sprawled, stark and unadorned, across the desert.

 City is Sindeul, Quar told them.

 Dain had heard of Sindeul from peddlers at dwarf clan fairs. It was reputed to be a place of the 
greatest blasphemy and evil, a place where unmentionable things were practiced. No one traveled 
willingly to Sindeul, the city of death.

 Look yon, Quar said, pointing. Behold sacred mountain that is mouth of Ashnod. 
Dain stared at the tallest peak, which smoked as though it had fire inside. Dread and foreboding 
settled over him. He sensed that he might be taken there, and he did not want to go. 
After a moment, during which none of the prisoners spoke, Quar led them forward across the hot and 
dusty plain.

 The city was farther away than it looked. They rode, baking in the merciless heat, until Dain thought he 
would perish of thirst and weariness. In the afternoon they came at last to the gates. Shapeshifters flew 
overhead like huge vultures, and as they drew near to the walls of towering black stone, Dain saw 
corpses dangling from the crenellations. Decaying heads stuck on pikes were fought over by ugly, 
raucous birds with scales instead of feathers. A terrible stink hung over the place.

 Quar shouted in his harsh, guttural voice. After a moment the city gates creaked open to allow them 
entrance. Alexeika cried out in fear. Thums face turned pale. Tomias, save us, he said again and again.

 Dain gazed up into a hideous face carved in the stone wall, and felt his own courage quail. Surely they 
were doomed. 


 His keen ears overheard murmurs of curiosity and eagerness beyond the gates. Although he could not 
understand Gantese, he heard one familiar word over and over: Faldain ... Fal-dain...

 His keen ears overheard murmurs of curiosity and eagerness beyond the gates. Although he could not 
understand Gantese, he heard one familiar word over and over: Faldain ... Fal-dain...

 Princess Alexeika! he said sharply as they passed through the gates. Remember who you are. 
Her eyes, huge and dark with fear, stared at him. Pink tinted her cheeks, and as her chin lifted, he saw 
the old spirit flash in her eyes. 
Thum du Maltie! he said, glancing to his right. Show them a Mandrian uplander. Your ancestors 
have fought off their raids for centuries. They are dogs and worse. They are carrion-eaters. 
Aye, Thum said in a shaky voice. He frowned and straightened with a wince. Aye, thats so. 
By the time they reached the checkpoint inside the gates, all three prisoners were sitting tall and 
looking bold.

 Glancing about at the curious guards leaning on their spears as they stared, Dain closed his mind to 
their savage thoughts. He pretended he did not see the shapeshifters flying back and forth overhead. He 
tried hard to ignore the growling hurlhounds slinking here and there among the crowd, baring venomous 
fangs. A soultakergray, fat, and satedwas lying in a cage hanging overhead, and Dain was obliged to 
ride directly beneath it.

 Aware of its interest in him, he shuddered. His heart thudded hard against his ribs, and sweat poured 
off him, but with determination he kept his face stony and his eyes calm and steady.

 Beyond the guardhouse, they rode along a broad avenue paved with red sandstone. A drum began to 
pound, and guards in breastplates and metal-studded loincloths fell in behind them. Wearing helmets and 
carrying spears, they seemed to be primitive warriors indeed, very old-fashioned compared with the 
fire-knights.

 Along the route, they were joined by mounted knights wearing red hauberks similar to Alexeikas. 
Some of them called out to her, but she merely lifted her chin higher and ignored them all.

 Only Dain was close enough to see her mouth quiver now and then, but she had pride and hatred to 
sustain her, and she did not falter.

 Another contingent of armed men joined them, this time with prisoners in tow. Dain saw them shuffling 
along in shackles, their boots worn nearly through, their mail tarnished and torn, their surcoats in filthy 
tatters. After a moment he recognized the black circle on their breasts and realized they were church 
soldiers, Mandrians all.

 Dain stared at them in shock, recognizing some of the faces now despite their grime and matted 
beards.

 Thum stared at them too, and gasped. Sire!

 Aye, Dain said grimly. Gavrils church soldiers.

 Great Thod, Thum said, his eyes widening as horror sank in. That means

 Betrayal. Disaster. Dain wondered what had become of Pheresa, and his heart felt like lead in his 
chest. When they reached Nether, Muncel must have turned on them.

 Merciful Tomias, Thum whispered in anguish. Think you that all were captured?

 Dain bowed his head in silence. What was there to reply? After a moment, he roused himself and 
looked for Gavril among their number, but did not see the prince. Instead, he spied one knight, taller than 
most of the others, limping along, and recognized him.

 Sir Wiltem, he said.

 As though the man had overheard him, Sir Wiltem lifted his head, and his gaze met Dains. In silence, 
they stared at each other. Sir Wiltems eyes held only stoic suffering. Dain had no idea what his own 
conveyed in return. A whip cracked across Sir Wiltems shoulders, and Dains captor tugged his horse 
into a trot, leading him past. The church soldiers were left behind to join the rear of the procession.

 Curious folk emerged from houses of red or tan mud. Most were leather-skinned, burned dark from 
the relentless sun, with narrow skulls and hostile eyes. Children ran alongside the procession, shrieking 


insults and pelting the prisoners with dried dung. The city seemed to be a maze of narrow, winding 
streets, buildings made of stone or mud, and endless dust and filth. Ashy smoke from the volcano 
polluted the air, making Dains eyes sting. He sensed a restless energy in the streets, an innate streak of 
cruelty in the citizens, a feeling of something terrible about to happen.

insults and pelting the prisoners with dried dung. The city seemed to be a maze of narrow, winding 
streets, buildings made of stone or mud, and endless dust and filth. Ashy smoke from the volcano 
polluted the air, making Dains eyes sting. He sensed a restless energy in the streets, an innate streak of 
cruelty in the citizens, a feeling of something terrible about to happen.

 Walls of red stone surrounded the palace, which was white, creating strong contrast. The spires 
towered high, and the hot sun glinted off the hammered gold leaf decorating the domes. At their 
approach, the ornate gates swung open to admit them.

 Impressed in spite of himself, Dain looked around in open curiosity. The palace was enormous, rising 
white atop a checkerboard foundation of red and white stone. The unpaved courtyard was huge, more 
than ample to hold all the knights, spearmen, and prisoners, plus the armed men who advanced to 
surround them all.

 Orders rang out, and red-hauberked guards with drawn swords ascended and lined up along the 
sandstone steps.

 At the top of the steps, along a wide veranda that lay deep in shadow, a cluster of individuals stood 
watching. Glancing in their direction, Dain felt a chill sink through him.

 He thought of the mysterious power that had reached him and caused him to swoon twice. He 
remembered the peculiar coldness that had permeated through his body, taking his consciousness and 
something of his life force with it. And although nothing attacked him now, he felt that same evil power, 
that same icy coldness, slither across his being with the lightest possible touch.

 A shudder passed through his frame.

 Quar dismounted, came over to him, and cut through Dains ropes. As his arms swung forward, Dain 
barely managed to bite off a yelp of pain. His arms felt leaden and useless, yet painful prickles rippled 
through them, bringing a new kind of agony. Gritting his teeth, he made himself flex and work his fingers. 
They were puffy and dark, with bruised creases cut deeply into his wrists.

 Quar cut Alexeika free, then Thum, before he returned to Dain.

 Down, he said.

 Dain dismounted, as did the others. Thum staggered slightly and had to grip his stirrup to keep himself 
on his feet. His thigh wound was seeping blood again.

 Quar pointed at Alexeika and Thum, issuing orders.

 At once they were shoved over to the line of church soldiers. But when Dain tried to join them, his 
path was intercepted.

 Quar gave him a light shove. Up the steps. Go.

 What about my friends?

 Go.

 But

 Your majesty! a singsong voice called out in Mandrian.

 Dain whirled, his gaze searching the many faces. Sulein?

 Your majesty, have pity! Sulein came shoving his way through the line, breaking away from any 
guards who tried to stop him. Hobbled by his shackles, his long robes tattered and torn, his black hair 
frizzing wildly, the physician stretched out his hands to Dain.

 Do not let them make a slave of me, he begged. Have mercy, majesty, for I belong to your service. 
Keep me with you. I was not destined to be broken hauling stone.

 Sulein, Dain said with pity, I cannot help you. I am a prisoner too.

 No, that cannot be so, Sulein said, shaking his head. Guards caught up with him and grabbed his 
shoulders. You are King

 Faldain. All in Gant know your name. Your horoscope shows you emblazoned across the heavens.

 The guards pushed a struggling Sulein back toward the line of prisoners. Majesty! Keep me with you! 


You swore you would.

You swore you would.

 Keep your promise! Sulein called out.

 But there was nothing Dain could do for him. When he helplessly shook his head, the physicians face 
contorted with rage.

 You cannot cheat me! he cried as he was shoved into line next to Alexeika. She stared at him in 
amazement, but he never noticed her. His dark eyes blazed at Dain. If you break your royal promise to 
me, youll regret it!

 Sulein, I can do nothing

 The physician raised his fist, and Dain saw the Ring of Solder glowing on his finger.

 Aghast, he pushed against Quars restraining arm. No! Sulein, do not use it! In Thods name, dontV

 But Sulein spoke a word that made the ground rumble. Dains ears hurt from the sound of it, and with 
a loud pop the physician disappeared.

 Consternation broke out among the Gantese. Even Quar seemed taken aback. His arm dropped, and 
Dain ran forward a couple of steps, only to stop in dismay.

 He couldnt believe Sulein had panicked like that. Sulein, who had never before been seen to lose his 
nerve. Had the physician kept his head, Dain thought ruefully, perhaps they could have worked out an 
escape plan for everyone.

 At that moment, the air shimmered and seemed to break open. Screaming, Sulein appeared in midair, 
then plummeted to the ground. He thudded hard and lay there unmoving, almost at Alexeikas feet.

 Jabbering in Gantese, the guards surrounded him, shoving Alexeika aside with such force she stumbled 
and fell. She scrambled out of the way, then quickly regained her feet.

 As some of the guards dragged Suleins body past Dain, he ran to the physician, who was dead. His 
dark beard and hair had both turned snowy white, and his skin was as cold as ice.

 Dain stared at him, unable to believe hed died in those few seconds. Where had he gone? What had 
he seen in the second world? What had killed him?

 Swiftly Dain gripped Suleins hands, feeling for the Ring.

 It was gone.

 Get back! Quar ordered, pulling Dain away.

 Dain offered no resistance, and Sulein was removed, his head lolling, his arms dragging in the dust. 
Despair settled through Dain. He could not believe Sulein had been so foolish, so utterly stupid. He had 
thrown the Ring away, lost it forever in the second world. What evil lunacy had possessed him?

 Quar gave Dain a push, jolting him from his thoughts. Up the steps, he ordered. Now.

 Dain had no choice but to obey. Numb, feeling dazed, he stumbled forward. Although he sensed 
Thums worry and Alexeikas fear behind him, he didnt glance back. He no longer had any assurances 
to share. They were all doomed.

 The palace was an edifice of torment. It had been built out of mortar mixed with blood and ground-up 
bones. Grotesque faces carved from stone leered over the doorways. Disembodied souls, gibbering and 
moaning, flew about like smoky wraiths and puddled together in shadowy corners. Sticking out from the 
walls of the dimly lit corridors at regularly spaced intervals were hands, turned palm upward. Fairlight 
flickered from the fingertips, and Dain dared not look closely enough to see if they were real eldin hands 
or just carved ones. Ushered along by Quar and additional guards, Dain was startled at first to see doors 
swing open at his approach without anyone having pushed them. As he walked past, eyes, and 
sometimes an entire face, would appear in the murky panels of the doors. He sensed the muted screams 
of whatever was trapped inside, and couldnt keep himself from quickening his pace.

 Despite the shadows, the interior of the palace was almost as hot as it was outdoors. As he strode 
along Dain pulled off his cloak and loosened the throat of his hauberk. He was so hungry and thirsty and 
his senses felt assaulted on all sides by the torment and misery that seemed to permeate every corner.

 At the end of the corridor stood a tall pedestal beneath a window through which sunlight streamed in. 
Dire curses carved in ancient runes marked each side of the pedestal, and a plain metal bowl stood on 
top of it. As he drew near, Dain realized the bowl was made of god-steel. He could sense it, as though 


the metal were alive and calling out to him.

the metal were alive and calling out to him.

 The fire-knight prodded his shoulder. Go, he said. Cannot linger here.

 He seemed uneasy, and he avoided looking in the bowls direction.

 Dains apathy fell away. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at Quar. Why do you keep god-steel indoors 
if you fear it? he asked.

 Smoke curled from beneath Quars helmet. Go, he said finally, refusing to answer Dains question. 
Do not stop here.

 As Dain passed the bowl, he ran his fingertips across it.

 Snarling, Quar struck him so hard he staggered against the wall, but Dain did not care. That brief touch 
was enough to send tingling energy through him. Much of his fatigue dropped away. Even his thirst 
lessened, and full feeling returned to his puffy hands. Although he did not yet know how he could possibly 
escape this place, or even ride across the desert of Gant, he vowed that somehow he would try. He 
would not give up as long as he drew breath.

 Ahead, a door swung open, moaning on its hinges. An em-bossed face appeared in the panels, and 
opened its mouth in a soundless scream.

 Quar struck the wood with a bad-tempered fist, and the face disappeared. Inside! he ordered.

 But as Dain stepped over the threshold, he stopped in his tracks with a gasp.

 The heat was overwhelming. An immense blaze roared inside a brick firepit in the rooms center. 
Brown lizards with iridescent throats lay basking atop the broad edge of the firepit wall. Now and then 
one of them blinked bulbous yellow eyes. Believers, both men and women, moaned and chanted in 
worship. Clad only in loincloths, their oiled bodies tattooed with intricate designs, they crawled to the 
firepit on hands and knees, threw offerings into the flames, and retreated to allow others to crawl 
forward. Thus did the group move in a continuous flux. Suddenly one of them leaped to his feet and flung 
himself into the flames. As he screamed and flailed in the firethe stench of burning flesh and hair filling 
the airthe other worshipers lifted their arms and shouted in mindless ecstasy.

 Appalled, Dain wondered if this was what the Gantese meant by eating fire. He cast Quar a sharp 
look, but dared ask no questions.

 Quar gestured, and with reluctance Dain edged his way past the worshipers. When a snake slithered 
across the floor toward him, he stopped warily, but Quar shoved him forward. At the same time, Quar 
spoke a sharp command and the serpent turned aside as though it understood him. Enormous tarantulas 
scuttled out of Dains way as he left the worshipers behind and crossed the remaining half of the room. 
Quar pointed at a dais at the opposite end, and Dain headed toward it.

 A long bench gilded in gold leaf and padded with scarlet cushions stood centered on the dais. 
Reclining there was a figure clad in robes of purple silk, a figure who was no more than leathery, deeply 
scarred skin stretched over a skeleton. He looked as though in the past hed been burned alive. His lips 
and nostrils and ears had all been scorched away, leaving slits and orifices. Only his eyes remained 
human, eyes as intelligent and searching as any Dain had ever seen.

 He found his own gaze captured and held by those remark-able eyes, and before he realized it he was 
nearly kneeling to this creature. At the last second he stiffened his knees and refused to bend to the will 
exerted against his.

 The pressure eased and fell away. Drawing a deep breath, Dain stared hard at this creature and 
wondered if the fire-knights looked like this beneath their obsidian armor and helmets. 
Quar clamped his gloved hand possessively on Dains shoulder. Lord Zinxt, I bring Faldain of Nether 
to thee, as the Chief Believer has ordered. 
Thou has done well, Quar, Lord Zinxt replied. His voice was as ashy, ruined, and hoarse as Quars. 
The Chief Believer will be pleased. 
Although they spoke in Gantese, Dain found himself suddenly able to understand them. He glanced at 
Zinxt in suspicion, suspecting he had made this possible. The Gantese lord dismissed Quar with a gesture, 


and Quar glanced at Dain before striding out. Four more fire-knights remained at Dains back; he dared 
do nothing.

and Quar glanced at Dain before striding out. Four more fire-knights remained at Dains back; he dared 
do nothing.

 Frowning as he adjusted mentally to Zinxts strange way of speaking, Dain said nothing. He was too 
wary to accept the Gantese lords compliments. Behind Dain, another worshiper flung herself into the fire 
while her companions shrieked and wailed joyously.

 Refusing to look, Dain steeled himself to be as ruthless as possible in order to escape this place.

 Faldain has eluded us a long while, Zinxt continued. But the Chief Believers patience is long. When 
it comes to obeying Ashnods will, the Chief Believer never stops until he succeeds. Now Faldain is here, 
and the final steps of the plan can be put in place.

 What plan? Dain asked sharply. Ive been told Im to be sacrificed to Ashnod. I promise you Ill 
make him a poor dinner.

 Do not mock the god! Zinxt said angrily.

 Or what? Dain retorted. Im doomed to die already. What can you threaten me with?

 For a moment there was silence, then Zinxts lipless mouth stretched in what was perhaps a smile. 
Faldain fears the same things as any other nonbeliever. But when Faldains soul is eaten and he belongs 
wholly to us, then, little king, then Faldain will be useful indeed.

 Dains defiance dropped away. Trying hard to mask his horror, he stared at Zinxt, and felt suddenly 
numb. My soul, he repeated. Eaten.

 Of course. Faldain will become Nonkind and blessed among us.

 Cursed, you mean, Dain whispered.

 It is not the terrible thing Faldain thinks, Zinxt said with a shrug. Faldain will have the honor of 
serving Ashnod. Faldain will be the last piece in a plan that has taken centuries to complete.

 Thinking of what the old eldin king had told him, Dain swallowed with difficulty. What is Ashnods 
plan?

 When Faldain belongs to Ashnod, we will return him to Nether to take his throne. With our help, 
Faldain will overthrow Muncels army. The rebel forces will come out of hiding to pay Faldain fealty, and 
we will destroy them.

 Dain frowned, but Zinxt went on:

 According to our agents, Faldain is on excellent terms with Verence of Mandria. He will be eager to 
sign a new treaty with Faldain. Because of this, Faldain will find it easy to lure him to Grov, where he will 
be crushed.

 Never! Dain said. I wont do any of it.

 Zinxt tilted his head. Does Faldain believe he has a choice? It is Ashnods will that Gant rule the 
world. Since the day when we were imprisoned here in this place of desolation and forced to eat sand 
and bitterness, we have vowed to destroy the order of things. We shall rule over all kingdoms. All people 
will bend their knees and hearts to the will of Ashnod. No other god will be worshiped. And Faldain will 
finish this plan when he brings the end of the world. He will provide Gant with its new beginning. So it 
was with Solder the First. So it is now with Faldain the Last.

 Dain set his jaw. Youre wrong, Zinxt, he said defiantly. Gant will never spread its darkness across 
the world. Your plan will fail. You will remain here in this desert, where your kind belong.

 Such defiance is as the wind, Zinxt replied. Once Fal-dains soul is eaten, he will not resist. He will 
be ours.

 Soultakers cannot eat the souls of eldin, Dain said rapidly. He glanced left and right, but the guards 
still stood between him and the door.

 Zinxt emitted a dreadful laugh. False! Eldin souls are no different from others. It will not hurt unless 
Faldain fights, but the magemons will hold Faldain so that he does no harm to himself, and the soultaker 
will, I promise, be swift.

 Afraid, Dain steeled himself. Bring on your foul creatures, he said with all the defiance he could 
muster. See how well they prevail. 


 It was not foretold that Faldain would be a fool, Zinxt said. Have patience, little king. The 
magemons are still with the Chief Believer. He wants to see Faldain for himself before Faldain is... 
altered.

 It was not foretold that Faldain would be a fool, Zinxt said. Have patience, little king. The 
magemons are still with the Chief Believer. He wants to see Faldain for himself before Faldain is... 
altered.

 Zinxt beckoned to the guard who held the swords. Show me what thou has brought.

 The guard unrolled the swords at the foot of the dais. Sev-ergards black, rune-carved blade was 
glowing white in the presence of evil; its huge sapphire gleamed in the firelight. Beside it lay Truthseeker, 
ancient and deadly, its hilt emeralds glittering with fire of their own. Its song was loud in Dains mind.

 Aching to leap for the weapon and fight his way out of here, he clenched his fists at his sides. He 
sensed that Zinxt was waiting for him to try something rash, waiting with a trap ready to spring closed 
around him. Although it cost him all the willpower he possessed, Dain waited.

 These swords are made from the foul metals, Zinxt said, gazing down at them in patent displeasure. 
His gaze shifted to Dain. One of them is Faldains. The other, whose?

 Alexeikas. The maiden who was brought to Sindeul with me.

 Alexeika. Zinxt repeated her name as though savoring it on his tongue, then reached to the floor and 
picked up a snake. He allowed it to slither up his arm and curl itself around his neck. Faldain and 
Alexeika ... these names have been spelled out by the bone dice. Faldain and Alexeika are young indeed 
to carry swords of such antiquity.

 We inherited them from our fathers.

 False! Zinxt said, pointing a long talon at Dain. False. The kings of Nether do not carry god-steel.

 Dain stiffened. What do you know about the kings of Nether? What we do and what we carry into 
battle is no concern of yours.

 Lord Zinxts eyes narrowed. He tipped back his head, then hissed a long stream of smoke from his 
mouth and threw the snake straight at Dain. As it flew through the air, the snake suddenly shimmered into 
another shape, something flaccid and gray and amorphous.

 It was a soultaker, uncaged, and incredibly dangerous.

 Chilled to the marrow despite the hot room, Dain froze for a second. He had no idea these things 
could transform themselves like shapeshifters. As its putrid smell choked his nostrils, he realized it was 
going to land right on him if he didnt force himself to move.

 Dodging barely in time, so that the soultaker landed with a plop on the floor and came writhing toward 
him, Dain lunged for Truthseeker and closed his fingers around the hilt just as one of the guards grabbed 
him from behind. Yanked off balance, Dain swore and managed to keep his footing. As he righted 
himself, he swung Truthseeker up and around. Chanting ancient words to the weapons inner song, Dain 
slashed through obsidian armor and nearly cut the fire-knight in half. As the Believer staggered back, 
crumpling in a gush of blood, the others charged Dain.

 Sidestepping the soultaker once more, he kicked it away from him with all his might and met the 
guards swords with Truthseeker, which sang loud and strong. Back and forth their blades flashed. In 
seconds, two guards were down. The others hesitated uncertainly, and did not charge him.

 As the soultaker came his way again, Dain turned and plunged Truthseeker through it.

 Screaming, the thing burst into flames.

 At the firepit, the chanting and wailing fell abruptly silent. Lord Zinxt shouted something that made the 
air stink of ashes and smoke. Although Dain felt the power of the spell that was hurled his way, it did not 
ensnare him. Instead, all he felt was Truthseekers power throbbing in his hands. Dain ran for the door.

 He feared that the worshipers might attack him in a mob, but they knelt where they were and stared at 
him with dazed eyes.

 Before he reached the door, however, it swung open and Quar marched in, weapon in hand, with 
additional fire-knights at his back.

 Retreating, Dain searched for another way out.

 Quar! Lord Zinxt called. Leave thy men at the door and come to me. 


 The fire-knight swung away from Dain as Zinxt began in-canting another spell. This one, however, was 
not directed at Dain but instead at Severgard, which still lay in front of the dais.

 The fire-knight swung away from Dain as Zinxt began in-canting another spell. This one, however, was 
not directed at Dain but instead at Severgard, which still lay in front of the dais.

 Quar, take it, Zinxt commanded.

 The fire-knight hesitated only fractionally before he sheathed his weapon and reached out to grip the 
sword of Alexeikas ancestors. As soon as his gloved hands closed on the long hilt, he flinched with a 
bellow of pain.

 Understanding what Zinxt was trying to do, Dain ran straight at the fire-knight. He swung Truthseeker 
high, and aimed for Quars neck, determined to behead him as brutally and mercilessly as Sir Terent had 
been beheaded.

 But at the last second, Quar managed to lift Severgard enough to parry Dains blow. Quars 
movements were jerky and awkward, almost as though another will was directing his. Smoke boiled 
from beneath the edges of his helmet, and Dain could hear his ragged breathing, but despite his obvious 
pain, he fought.

 Magicked steel against god-steel. The two noble blades clanged loudly as Dain and Quar fought back 
and forth. Severgard slashed across Dains forearm, snapping the finely wrought links of chain mail and 
drawing blood.

 Hissing, the brown lizards around the firepit came to life and jumped down from their ledge. They 
crawled through the crowd of worshipers, and headed straight for Dain as though drawn by his blood 
scent.

 Keeping a wary eye on the approaching creatures, Dain balanced his weight on his back leg a moment 
to catch his breath; then, as Quar lunged at him, Dain crouched low beneath Sev-ergards thrust and 
hacked at Quars knees.

 He cut tendons, and although Quar leaped aside, he staggered as he landed, then sank down. Dain 
charged with all the strength he had left, raising Truthseeker high. 
Gasping, Quar lifted Severgard as though intending to impale Dain, but when Dain spoke in the 
language of swords, Severgard twisted in Quars hands, its point swinging aside. 
Down swept Truthseeker, and Quars head went tumbling across the floor among the brown lizards 
and tarantulas. As Quars body toppled, Dain scooped up Severgard in his left hand. 
The weapon was throbbing and the hilt felt white-hot. Swiftly Dain slid the sword through his belt and 
swung around to face the charge of the remaining fire-knights.

 By now, Zinxt was shouting words that made the air tremble. Flames and sparks burst in midair, yet 
Dain realized he was protected as long as he held Truthseeker. Chanting again the songs of battle and 
blade, Dain felt tireless as he killed another fire-knight, then charged the next.

 This Believer, however, turned and fled from him. Zinxt shouted a spell that knocked the coward 
down. Leaping over the fire-knight, Dain ran for the door. 
The lizards scuttled after him, following the pale blood that still dripped from his arm. As Dain passed 
the firepit, flames seemed to explode in all directions.

 The worshipers went sprawling, and many of them were set on fire as the flames caught their hair and 
spread across their oiled bodies. Knocked off his feet by the explosion, Dain was too dazed at first to 
know what had happened. His ears rang, and his eyes were dazzled. Squinting, he shook his head and 
tried to regain his senses.

 Something crawled over his leg, and Dain slapped it away with Truthseeker.

 His vision cleared, although his hearing still rang. He beat down the sparks smoldering in his clothing, 
scrambled to his feet, then staggered out the door.

 More fire-knights were running up the corridor toward him. Dismay sank through Dain. His rush of 
energy had spent itself, and exhaustion now trembled in his arms and legs. He was panting from exertion 
and drenched with sweat. The cut in his arm was no longer bleeding, but it hurt.

 Instinct told him that if he tried to fight his way out, he might never reach the last knight ordered against 
him. He decided to try a different tactic. 
Impulsively, he ran to the pedestal and seized the bowl of god-steel. Cradling it against him, he 


retreated into Lord Zinxts chamber, kicking lizards and serpents aside and jumping over the burned and 
injured worshipers.

retreated into Lord Zinxts chamber, kicking lizards and serpents aside and jumping over the burned and 
injured worshipers.

 Without hesitation, Dain rushed up to Zinxt and stepped inside the circle of flames. An invisible force 
tried to push him back, and his mind was assaulted by numerous voices murmuring vile and terrible things 
in a maddening babble. But Dain slammed the bowl against Zinxts bare chest.

 The Gantese lord reeled back, screaming. The voices babbling filth fell abruptly silent, and the circle of 
flames vanished. Smoke rose from where the god-steel was blistering Zinxts scarred flesh. He writhed 
and screamed again, then jerked himself back with such force that he fell off the dais.

 Dain straddled him, pinning him on his back with Truth-seeker at his throat. Holding the bowl in the 
crook of his left arm, Dain felt its strength pour through his body, driving away his exhaustion and 
weakness and restoring his strength. He glared down at Zinxt, who was wide-eyed in fear.

 Give the order, Dain said. Tell your guards to let me go.

 Zinxt defiantly hissed smoke at him. I cannot defy the Chief Believers commands.

 Dain pressed Truthseeker against his throat, intending to torture him until he complied, but suddenly all 
the air seemed to leave the room.

 Dain tried to breathe, and couldnt. The bowl fell to the floor, spinning there with an awful clang. As 
his lungs jerked in panic, he turned around and saw a tall nightmarish figure standing behind him. Clad in a 
sleeveless tunic of thin stone disks, a necklace of skulls hanging around its neck, the newcomer had the 
shape of a man, yet his entire body was aflame. In one blazing hand this creature held a stone scepter 
topped by a ball of crystal in which floated tiny, distorted faces grimacing in perpetual torment. Two 
snarling slythseach beast no wider than Dains handflanked it like sentinels.

 The creature stopped blazing orange, its flames dying down to mere flickers. Air returned to the room, 
with a gust that blew Dains hair back from his face. He could breathe again, but now the air stank of 
sulfur and ashes. Inhaling only shallow breaths, Dain realized belatedly that he was being mesmerized by 
the creatures fiery gaze. Somehow he managed to wrench his eyes away.

 Let Zinxt go, the monster commanded.

 Are you the Chief Believer? Dain asked.

 Thou are mine, Faldain, the monster replied. Its voice was like nothing hed ever heard before. 
There was no song, no life in it. Every word it spoke seemed to weaken him, despite the god-steel in his 
hands. Thy soul is mine. Once it is collected, I shall keep it here. It tapped the crystal of its scepter. 
Thy blood belongs to the Nonkind who serve Zinxt. Thy body will do the bidding of Ashnod, and lure 
the mortal kings of this world to their deaths.

 No, Dain said. I am sworn to be forever your enemy, yours and your gods. Faldain of Nether 
does not serve you.

 Not even if I save the one thou loves?

 Dain jerked involuntarily, and Truthseeker nearly slipped from his hand. The Chief Believer extended 
the scepter in his direction, and the distorted faces inside the crystal were replaced by a likeness of 
Pheresa. Her reddish-gold hair framed her oval face; her eyes were shut as though she slept... or lay 
dead.

 Dain frowned, believing the latter possibility, but at that moment her brown eyes opened and looked 
straight at him.

 Dain. Her lips formed his name in silence, but he seemed to hear her melodious voice in his mind.

 I can save her, the Chief Believer said. Its voice was stony and lifeless. Serve as we bid thee, and 
she will be whole again.

 Dains heart swelled with hope, but he cut off the temptation as fast as he could. The Chief Believers 
offer was a trick, nothing more.

 Shes dead already, he said. I saw the guardians among the prisoners today. She could not live 
without them. Shes dead! 


 Fool! the Chief Believer said, flames blazing higher. The heat it emitted made Dain back up a step. 
She lives, and she can be at thy side.

 Fool! the Chief Believer said, flames blazing higher. The heat it emitted made Dain back up a step. 
She lives, and she can be at thy side.

 Defy us, and she will die, the Chief Believer said. Defy us, and we will take you into the fire.

 On the floor at Dains feet, Zinxt reached out and gripped his ankle. His talons pierced Dains boot, 
holding him with unnatural strength when Dain tried to kick free. Hissing smoke, Zinxt stretched open his 
mouth very wide and belched forth a small soultaker. Gray and slick, its flesh pulsing in eager quivers, the 
disgusting thing landed on Dains foot and began inching up his leg.

 Shouting, Dain jerked in Zinxts hold, but when he could not get free, he plunged Truthseeker through 
Zinxts heart. Flames burst from his wound as Dain withdrew the sword. More flames blazed in Zinxts 
open mouth and nostrils. His eyes melted in the heat, and his body seemed to collapse in on itself like 
paper thrown onto a fire.

 Retreating, and unable to shake off the soultaker, which was still climbing his leg, Dain reached into his 
purse and pulled out a handful of salt. He threw it on the soultaker, which shuddered all over, then went 
rigid and fell off.

 Dain stabbed it, and fire exploded it into bits. He whirled and swung Truthseeker at the Chief Believer, 
not sure how he could fight an entity made of flames. The creature parried with its scepter and deflected 
Truthseekers blow. Shocked to find the scepter capable of withstanding god-steel, Dain was caught off 
guard when the slyths sprang at him, attacking him from two sides. He managed to cut one in half, but the 
other knocked him down. It bit his shoulder, but its poisonous fangs closed only on Dains fur-lined 
surcoat and the mail hauberk beneath it. He rolled over and plunged Truthseeker through its chest. With 
a scream the slyth crashed to the ground.

 Dain jumped to his feet and grabbed the bowl hed dropped earlier. The Chief Believer shouted 
words that appeared in midair, flaming and shooting sparks. But once again, the god-steel protected Dain 
from Gantese spells, and the fire-curses did not entrap him. Without looking back, he fled.

 A whip cracked across the shoulders of the man in front of Alexeika, making her flinch reflexively.

 Go! the guards commanded.

 Slowly the line of prisoners shuffled across the baked compound. Alexeika walked with her head 
down, trying to bring no attention to herself. Thum limped grimly beside her, his hazel eyes filled with both 
anger and despair.

 Alexeika knew he was fretting for his friend and master. She felt sick at heart herself, for the thought of 
Faldain being sac-rificed to Ashnod was impossible to bear. Yet how could they escape? Now that they 
were separated, what hope had they?

 Tears stung her eyes, and angrily she wiped them away. She would not give up as long as she drew 
breath. Whatever she could do to thwart or harm the evil ones here, she would do. As her father had 
faced overwhelming forces with courage, defying the darkness to the last, so would she do her best until 
the very end.

 Lifting her head and sniffing, Alexeika stopped her tears, then pulled off her cloak and tied it around 
her waist.

 Why keep that? Thum whispered. Throw it away. I have never known such heat.

 She shook her head with a frown. Although she loosened the lacings of her red hauberk, she did not 
cast it off. She was roasting in her heavy winter clothing, but if she somehow found a way to escape, she 
would need its protection later.

 To the west of the palace sprawled a complex of barracks and stables. Here, the prisoners were 
separated into groups and led away to various tasks. Alexeika and Thum were among those assigned to 
the stables. The shadowy interior was cool after the intense heat outdoors. Mixed with the usual rustic 
smells of straw, fodder, animals, and droppings was a terrible stench, rank and hot, of something not of 
this world.

 With flaring nostrils, Alexeika glanced around with interest. Darsteeds, she said. 
Groaning, Thum limped over to the water trough. He fell to his knees, plunged his face into the 
greenish water, and drank deeply. 


 Shouting and cursing in Gantese, a guard yanked him away.

 Shouting and cursing in Gantese, a guard yanked him away.

 Concerned, she held his shoulders until he was finished, then helped him straighten. Using a corner of 
his cloak, she wiped the clammy sweat from his face. He was bone-white and gasping. His hazel eyes 
looked at her in horror.

 Dont drink it, he whispered, swallowing with a grimace. It tastes like blood.

 She stared at the trough in disbelief.

 That food the fire-knight tried to give me earlier, Thum went on painfully. It tasted foul and rotted. 
Horrible. We cant eat or drink anything here.

 But we have to, Alexeika said in alarm. We cant survive much longer without water.

 Everything is tainted, Thum said despairingly.

 Grooms in livery, their narrow faces cruel and hostile, interrupted them then, barking orders in Gantese 
and putting shovels in their hands. Alexeika and Thum were sent to muck out stalls and spread clean 
bedding.

 She welcomed the work. It was easy, requiring no thought. She worked quickly and methodically, 
moving from one stall to the next. Now and then she paused to rest and lick the perspiration from her lips 
for the tiny amount of moisture it brought her. She was soaked to the skin beneath her hauberk, but she 
forced herself to ignore the discomfort. Shed survived worse.

 In the meantime, a plan of sorts was forming in her mind. She observed the layout of the stables, 
watched the grooms and other workers, made note of the slaves such as herself and what they were 
permitted to do. Gradually, as she reached the end of her assigned row of stalls late in the day, she found 
herself near the section of heavy brick pens where the darsteeds were kept.

 Bugling challenges, kicking and lunging at each other in an effort to fight, the darsteeds were 
perpetually restless. Some of them stood looking over the top of their brick pens, red-eyed and snorting 
flames.

 Alexeika kept staring at the animals. They were larger than horses, and capable of covering long 
distances speedily without tiring. If she found a way to escape and stole a darsteed, she might have a 
chance.

 The idea was so daring and far-fetched it seemed impossible. Yet it would not leave her. She wished 
she had Quars magical baton and could just leap home through space and time, but she did not. 
Therefore, she had to ride across the desolate plains and deserts of Gant until she reached the Charva 
River.

 But how could she steal a darsteed? How could she saddle it, or ride it? The creatures were wild and 
savage, only mini-mally trained to saddle and bridle. She knew they were controlled by their riders 
minds. Could she somehow control them?

 In her mind she heard old Uzfans scolding voice: Nay, child, you have not the ability. Do not 
attempt it. Spellcasting is not your gift. 

 Uzfan had always said she was untrainable, and her abilities were indeed erratic. Since her escape 
from the Grethori, when shed called forth krenjin and attracted hurlhounds to her by accident, shed not 
dared to try again. Yet despite things going awry, she had escaped the Grethori. She had escaped the 
hurl-hounds. Shed even killed their master. It was his hauberk that she now wore, his dagger she 
carried. What would it hurt to try to tame a darsteed with her mind?

 One of the darsteeds was staring at her, its eyes red and intent, like a hunter focused on its prey. 
Alexeika stared back at it, then closed her eyes and centered her thoughts. You are mine, she thought, 
sending her will toward the creature. Serve me. You are mine.

 For a moment there was nothing at all. Ignoring her frustration, she concentrated harder. You are 
mine.

 The darsteeds mind suddenly opened to her, and she was assaulted by primitive fury and killing lust. 

Food/food/food/food! 


 Rocked on her feet, Alexeika opened her eyes and broke free of that savage contact. Her mind felt on 
fire, and she was panting for breath. Glancing around to make sure she was unobserved, she put aside 
her shovel and hurried over to a metal box by the darsteeds pen. From it she took a chunk of raw meat 
that stank and felt sticky with decay. Maggots were crawling in it, and in revulsion she flung it over the 
top of the wall. The darsteeds head vanished, and she heard its jaws snap on the meat. Immediately the 
darsteeds head appeared again. Its eyes fastened on her more avidly than before.

 Rocked on her feet, Alexeika opened her eyes and broke free of that savage contact. Her mind felt on 
fire, and she was panting for breath. Glancing around to make sure she was unobserved, she put aside 
her shovel and hurried over to a metal box by the darsteeds pen. From it she took a chunk of raw meat 
that stank and felt sticky with decay. Maggots were crawling in it, and in revulsion she flung it over the 
top of the wall. The darsteeds head vanished, and she heard its jaws snap on the meat. Immediately the 
darsteeds head appeared again. Its eyes fastened on her more avidly than before.

 A groom glared at her, gesturing and shouting incomprehensibly. He slammed the box shut, and 
shoved Alexeika away so hard she nearly fell.

 Slapping and shoving her, he continued to berate her all the way over to a stack of filthy straw. 
Pointing and shouting, he indicated that she was to shift the entire stack outside, then handed her a 
wooden pail and shovel.

 Disposing of the refuse stack one bucketful at a time was total drudgery, but Alexeika hardly minded. 
She was too busy planning. The darsteeds response had been encouraging, and she felt confident now 
that she could gain influence over it. All she needed was time and opportunity.

 Dain squeezed himself into a shadowy niche behind a contorted statue of some demonic figure and 
crouched there, barely daring to breathe as another squadron of guards hurried by. They were sweeping 
the palace in search of him, but thus far hed been able to elude his pursuers. After all, he was skilled in 
the art of hiding.

 He knew, of course, that had he not kept his hand constantly on god-steel the Believers or their 
magemons could have found him instantly. Hed found other pieces of god-steel displayed here and 
there on pedestals throughout the palace, but all of them were damaged or merely a scrap or two of 
some item that he could not identify. He wondered why the Gantese kept such artifacts, when obviously 
they abhorred the metal and could not tolerate touching anything made from it.

 Still, it was not a mystery worth solving. All he cared about was that the god-steel helped him, and he 
was grateful for it. At one point hed come to a water source, a large basin filled to the brim with stale, 
brackish water scummed over with algae. Its smell alone had been foul enough to counteract Dains 
terrible thirst. But on instinct hed dipped the bowl into it. The water was purified instantly, enabling him 
to drink it without harm.

 He wished he could find food, but he dared not risk searching for any. His intent was to get out of the 
palace and somehow find Alexeika and Thum.

 As he crouched in this latest hiding place behind the statue, with the bowl safely tucked away inside his 
surcoat and Truth-seeker lying across his knees, he sensed a stirring of something inside the stone figure, 
something malevolent and watchful.

 Warily, Dain eased out from behind it as soon as the way was clear again. As he stood up cautiously 
in the passageway, the statues eyes came to life, shifting until they stared down at him. 
Swiftly, not even giving himself time to wonder what might be going on, Dain pressed the tip of 

Truthseeker to its surface.

 The statues demonic eyes flickered, then went dead and stony once more.

 Glancing right and left, he hurried silently along the passageway, seeking a way out. This palace would 
be impossible for any ordinary person to escape, for the trapped and tormented entities within the very 
floor and walls would surely betray him. But Truthseeker kept them silent.

 He came to a door and hesitated there. As he listened, questing cautiously with his senses, he leaned 
against the door and slowly pushed it open.

 Courtiers, knights in red mail, and other Believers milled inside a long gallery. Dain retreated with a 
grimace of impatience, then looked around until he found a door concealed in the wall panels for servants 
to use. He opened it cautiously and slipped into a plain, narrow passageway, praying he would not 
encounter anyone.

 He did, of course. Rounding a corner, he came abruptly face-to-face with a female in a sleeveless 
gown and soiled work apron. She was carrying ashes in a bucket, and her gaunt face creased in dismay 


equal to Dains own.

equal to Dains own.

 She seemed frozen. Finally Dain walked toward her as slowly and gently as he could. He had no 
doubt that in her eyes he looked foreign and terrifying, garbed in fur and chain mail, his pale eyes wild 
with strain, a bare sword gripped in his hands. As he brushed past her in the narrow passageway, she 
uttered a muffled shriek and dropped the bucket of ashes.

 But as Dain went on without doing her harm, the terror abated in her eyes. She frowned, blinking at 
him, and slowly lifted her dirty hands to her mouth.

 He dared give her a tiny smile before he turned and hurried on. She sounded no alarm, and Dains 
stride lightened. If even one Gantese could comprehend kindness and mercy, then there was hope for this 
tainted and blighted land.

 .Eventually he made his way outdoors. The sun had gone down, leaving the world shrouded in a 
murky twilight. The air stank of Nonkind and ashes. In the distance beyond the palace walls he could 
hear the noise of carts and pedestrians. Somewhere a bell rang out in queer, off-key notes that made him 
wince. Worshipers, chanting and carrying torches, filed through the palace gates and crossed the 
spacious compound.

 Dain crouched behind a stone pillar in the shadows and watched the worshipers impatiently. He had to 
find his friends in this enormous compound, and the quicker the better. Unwilling to waste time searching 
in the wrong places, Dain dared allow his senses to quest for them.

 At once he picked up Thums emotions, close by. Pain and fever caused by his wound, mingled with 
despair and grief, poured into Dain before he closed the contact. Realizing Thum was in a bad way, Dain 
frowned. It was unlike his friend to lose heart like this.

 Moving from shadow to shadow, taking his time and staying careful despite his impatience, Dain made 
his way to the stables. Row after row of horses were munching contentedly on their bags of fodder. An 
occasional groom walked up and down the rows, inspecting the animals. On the far side of the large 
building stood a number of circular darsteed pens.

 The sound of voices alerted him that someone was approaching. He flitted deeper into the shadows 
and hid behind a pile of fodder that smelled sour and moldy. The search party did not enter the stables, 
but instead marched on into the darkness.

 When the grooms ended the inspection of their charges and the torches were extinguished, Dain crept 
outside and around the end of the stables, seeking the slaves housing. In a space between the stables 
and the knight barracks, he found a filthy pesthole crammed with prisoners and slaves. They had nothing 
to sleep on save the ground, no means by which to keep their areas clean. He smelled the food that had 
been served to them, but it stank as though half-spoiled.

 Most of the wretches were lying down now as the starlight glittered overhead. Dain noticed that a fat 
white moon was rising above the horizon. Moving cautiously forward, he picked his way about, trying not 
to step on anyone. Some of the slaves were free; others wore chains and shackles that rattled with their 
every movement.

 He searched slowly, now and then bending over a recumbent form to press his hand to a ragged 
shoulder. He dared say nothing, dared not utter names. Instead, he relied on touch and his keen sense of 
smell.

 At last he caught Thums scent. Relieved, he knelt beside his friend and gripped his shoulder to be 
sure. Thum moaned at his touch and stirred. Dain pressed him down.

 Hush, he whispered, afraid of who or what might overhear. Say nothing. Us I.

 Thum rolled over, then struggled to sit upright. Thod be praised! Youre

 Exasperated by such foolishness, Dain clamped his hand across Thums mouth. Thum grew still and 
touched Dains wrist. Only then did Dain take his hand away. In silence Thum gripped his fingers hard, 
awash with emotions. Quietly, Dain slung his arm around Thums shoulders and held him. 


 Nearby, another shadow slowly sat up and stared at him. Recognizing Alexeika, Dain mentally 
applauded her good sense in keeping quiet. She reached across Thum and gripped Dains sleeve, and 
only the hard pressure of her fingers betrayed her emotions. When she pointed at the stables, Dain 
nodded.

 Nearby, another shadow slowly sat up and stared at him. Recognizing Alexeika, Dain mentally 
applauded her good sense in keeping quiet. She reached across Thum and gripped Dains sleeve, and 
only the hard pressure of her fingers betrayed her emotions. When she pointed at the stables, Dain 
nodded.

 Not until Dain had left the slave area and circled around the end of the stables did Thum follow. 
Limping heavily, he came stumbling around the corner and nearly blundered into Dain, who gripped him 
in support.

 Easy! Dain whispered.

 Thum was shuddering from that simple exertion. He sank to the ground despite Dains attempts to 
support him, and sat there breathing raggedly. Dain was concerned, but Alexeika arrived before he had a 
chance to discover what ailed his loyal squire.

 She knelt at once next to Dain. The sentries have counted us once, but I think they will come back in 
a few hours to check again, she whispered. I have a plan

 Good, Dain said, interrupting. The compound gates opened tonight to let worshipers inside. If they 
leave, we should try to get out with them.

 I think I can steal a darsteed, she said. We cant cross the desert to the Charva on foot. Even a 
horse or two wont be able to outrun pursuit for long.

 Dain frowned in the darkness, for the idea of trying to control one of the monstrous beasts unnerved 
him. Still, although her suggestion was daring and risky, it was bold enough to have a chance of success. 

If he could manage to control one of the beasts.

 All right, he said finally. I shall try

 Nay, sire. Ill do the stealing. Im experienced at this, remember?

 Experienced at stealing horses, not darsteeds. Theyll eat anyone they can reach.

 I know that, she said impatiently. One has already learned my scent. Ive been working to gain its 
trust.

 Trust? he echoed more sharply than he intended. Darsteeds have no trust to give. This is not some 
skittish horse, but a monster.

 Which I can control, she retorted. You arent the only one who

 Perhaps, he said, worried that a longer argument would bring discovery. But you could get eaten 
while bridling it.

 She hesitated. That part worries me, she admitted at last. It might take two of us to do that.

 It usually took a neck-pole and several stalwart lads manhandling a darsteed to get it saddled and 
bridled, but Dain did not point out such details. He gave her hand a quick squeeze to indicate agreement 
and together they rose to their feet.

 Thum, however, stayed on the ground where he was. Worried about him, Dain bent down again.

 Can you stand? he asked softly. Come, my friend.

 Thum struggled upright, gasping with every breath. Dain gripped his arm to support him and felt the 
heat of Thums fever through his clothing.

 They limped along a few steps before Thum stopped and slumped against the wall. Its no good, he 
moaned. Im only in the way. Get away if you can. Leave me here.

 Dont be stupid, Dain whispered angrily. Im not leaving you behind.

 I cant do it, Thum said, and rubbed his forehead fretfully. If I only had some water.

 Dain looked around at once. Wheres the horse trough?

 Alexeika blocked his path. No, she whispered. He tried to drink it earlier. He said the water tastes 
like blood.

 Gently Dain pushed her aside. Wait and see.

 Slipping inside the stables, he dipped the god-steel bowl into the water, carried it outside, and held the 
brimming vessel to Thums lips. Drink.

 Thum turned away. Its no good. It burns like fire and 


 Drink, Dain urged him. This is pure.

 Drink, Dain urged him. This is pure.

 She took it warily, then nearly dropped it. What is this? she asked suspiciously.

 Dain held the bowl for her. Just drink, he said.

 She lowered her head to the water and sniffed it. Cautiously she took a sip, then began to drink faster 
until she was gulping it as greedily as Thum had been. When it was empty she stepped back and wiped 
her mouth with the back of her hand.

 Praise to Thod, she whispered with a new lilt to her voice. Nothing has ever tasted sweeter.

 Dain tucked the bowl away inside his surcoat, then took Sev-ergard from his belt and handed it to her.

 She gasped audibly and gripped the sword with both hands. At once its blade began to glow in 
warning, and she sheathed it hurriedly.

 Where did you ... how did you get it? she asked.

 Ill tell you later, Dain said, casting a look over his shoul-der. He heard nothing to alert him, but just 
the same he felt uneasy. Wed better hurry.

 Leaving Thum outside to keep watch, they hurried into the stables together and slipped over to the 
darsteed area.

 At once, several of the creatures bugled a warning. Stamping and snorting, they peered over the tall 
walls of their pens, red eyes glowing demonically.

 Dain stared at them in annoyance, wanting them to be quiet.

 That one, Alexeika said, pointing.

 Without giving Dain a chance to respond, she darted over to its pen and opened the meat box. The 
darsteed reared up eagerly, its hooves striking sparks off the top bricks.

 Dain gripped her arm to stop her. Dont feed it!

 Why not?

 Look! He gestured at the other darsteeds, now alert and snorting eagerly. They all want feeding.

 Oh. Alexeika shut the box. Give me a moment to prepare.

 We dont have a moment, Dain said. He heard a muffled voice of inquiry from the loft where the 
grooms slept. Swiftly he hurried to the gear hooks and pulled down an odd-shaped saddle and bridle 
designed for darsteeds. He pushed the saddle into Alexeikas hands. Ill go in first and bridle it. While I 
hold it you get the saddle on. Agreed?

 Aye, she said breathlessly. But how

 He reached for the gate, paused a moment to let the hot fury that was the darsteeds mind flood his, 
then opened the gate, stepped inside, and clamped down hard on the beast with all his willpower. 

Stand/stand/stand/stand.

 The darsteed snorted and retreated from him, lashing its barbed tail from side to side. Dain kept aiming 
the mental command at it. Never before had he felt anything fight him so hard. Never before had he had 
to be so harsh with a wild beast to make it do his bidding.

 Sweating in the darkness, he advanced on the creature, aware that if his control slipped the darsteed 
would attack him instantly. 

Stand/stand/stand/stand.

 It stopped retreating and lowered its head. Flames rumbled in its nostrils. Dains heart was thudding 
hard, but he knew he dared not hesitate now. Swiftly he strode forward and slipped the bridle onto that 
narrow skull. He fastened the throat latch with a hard tug, then turned around.

 Come.

 Alexeika entered the pen, lugging the heavy saddle. The darsteed reared and struck out with a deadly 
forefoot, missing Dain by inches.

 He struck back with his mind, and the darsteed squealed in pain.

 Someones coming, Alexeika said. I heard them.

 Dain refused to listen. He could feel the animals savage desire to attack pushing against him. With all 
his might he struggled to hold it while she fumbled with the saddle and tugged at the girths. Dain helped 


her, fear giving him the strength to yank them tighter than the darsteed liked.

her, fear giving him the strength to yank them tighter than the darsteed liked.

 Distracted, Dain lost control of it.

 The darsteed opened its venomous jaws and charged. Shouting something, Alexeika tried to stop it, 
but its mind was a maelstrom of fury and attack. It bounded right at Dain, who retreated until his 
shoulders struck the brick wall behind him. Swiftly he drew Truthseeker, and as the darsteed reared 
above him, Dain slapped the creatures chest with the flat of his blade.

 Truthseeker burned the darsteed. Squalling in pain, it dropped to all four feet and retreated. The 
stench of burned hide filled the air. 
In the distance, shouts rang out, and Dain heard the sound of running feet. Pushing past Alexeika, he 

sprang into the saddle and beat the darsteed with his mind to regain control of it.

 Quick! he said to Alexeika.

 She climbed on behind him, and the darsteed exploded into a gallop, bursting through the half-open 
gate. They thundered through the stables, frightening the horses, which neighed and jerked at their ties. 
The other darsteeds bugled and kicked while grooms came running with torches and shouts of alarm.

 The darsteed sprang outside, bounding faster than Dain was prepared for. By the time he stopped it 
and wrenched it around, precious minutes were lost. It fought him every step as he forced it back to the 
stables to get Thum.

 His friend was standing there openmouthed in the brightening moonlight. He retreated as the darsteed 
sidled up to him.

 I cannot, he said.

 Quick, Thum! Dain shouted. Theres no time for your scruples now.

 Leave me. Us blasphemous to ride it.

 There was no time to argue with him. Dain urged the darsteed closer, and when Thum turned to run 
Dain reached down, gripped him by the back of his tunic, and hauled him up across the darsteeds 
withers. Thum howled in fear and struggled, but Dain held him in place ruthlessly. Dain wheeled the 
darsteed around so sharply it reared, then let it run.

 On the other side of the compound, more worshipers were entering. Now there was no question of 
trying to slip out unnoticed, but the gates were open, and if he could reach the streets beyond the palace, 
he vowed, hed lead his pursuers on a merry chase.

 No! No! Thum was still protesting.

 Sit up! Dain shouted at him. Damne, man, youre alive and weve a chance to get out of here. Sit 
up and ride like the du Maltie you are, or by Thod I will leave you behind.

 His words were harsh, his temper ablaze, but Thum stopped whining and struggled erect astride the 
darsteeds neck. It bounded along with a longer stride than a horses, awkward and hard to get used to. 
But Thods bones, Dain thought in sudden exhilaration as his hair blew back from his face, it was indeed 
fast.

 Scattering worshipers on every side, he came galloping up to the gates. They were wrought of some 
kind of ornate met-alwork, far from the solid and immensely thick portals he was used to in Mandria. 
Shouting and cursing, the guards were shoving the gates closed, but although Alexeika screamed 
something in Dains ear, he did not hesitate.

 For Nether! he shouted, drawing Truthseeker.

 He swung the sword with lethal force, and the guards reach-ing for him went sprawling. As Dain sent 
the darsteed leaping straight at the gates, he leaned forward to strike the metal with his sword.

 Truthseeker shattered the ornamentation, sending bits of metal flying in all directions. He struck again 
and again, chopping his way through while the darsteed danced and wheeled.

 An arrow flew through the air, missing them by inches. Crying out, Alexeika drew Severgard, which 
was glowing white, and fought off those who tried to attack them from the rear.

 The darsteed kicked with lethal force, knocking a man flying as Dain finished destroying the gates. He 
gathered the reins and started to turn his mount just as more arrows flew by his ear. 


 None struck him, however, and by then Dain was sending the darsteed bounding through and out onto 
the broad avenue that stretched across the entire length of the city.

 None struck him, however, and by then Dain was sending the darsteed bounding through and out onto 
the broad avenue that stretched across the entire length of the city.

 Fire-knights pursue us! Alexeika shouted in his ear.

 Nodding, Dain settled deeper into the saddle and let the darsteed run as fast as it wanted. Thum was 
leaning back against him, hindering his control of their mount. After a moment, Dain gave him a slight 
push, then had to grab him quickly to keep him from toppling off.

 Only then did the moonlight glimmer off the arrow protruding from Thums chest. Horrified, Dain held 
him close.

 Thum! he shouted over the thunder of the darsteeds hooves. Thum, can you hear me?

 His friend made no answer. Dain realized that had he not forced Thum to sit up, he himself would have 
been hit by the arrow. Aghast, he wanted to plead forgiveness, but knew it would do no good.

 Damne!

 Whats wrong? Alexeika asked.

 Thums hurt. Arrow! I cant hold him up.

 Break it off and let him lie across the darsteeds neck, she suggested. Hang on. Ill try to reach the 
arrow if I can.

 Her arm snaked past Dains side. He wanted to protest, for he feared she might kill Thum by yanking 
the arrow in the wrong direction. But there was nothing else they could do.

 She grunted, pressing her cheek hard against Dains shoulder as she struggled to pull the arrow out 
from this difficult angle. Finally she gave a shout of triumph and held it up. Blood dripped across her 
hand, and she flung the arrow away.

 Lower him! she said. Hell live or die, but theres naught else we can do right now.

 Glancing back, Dain saw a shadowy group of riders in the distance behind them, closing too fast.

 Something invisible touched him, and Dain shuddered. Quickly he tightened his grip on Truthseeker. 
Alexeika! he said. Reach inside my surcoat and put your hand on the bowl. Whatever happens, dont 
let go of it.

 To her credit, she didnt question his odd order but did as he said. The magemons touch on his mind 
fell away. Dain gasped in relief.

 He felt suddenly tired and weakened from a day too long and too full of exertion. In his heart he was 
grieving for Thum, yet now was not the time to give way. Mustering his determination, Dain thrust off his 
fatigue and veered the darsteed abruptly off the wide avenue into one of the dark, twisting streets of the 
city.

 Alexeikas arms tightened around him, but she made no protest. Praying he would not become lost, 
Dain wound along the narrow streets. Here and there the darsteeds hooves slipped on the filth, but he 
came to no dead ends, and gradually the sounds of pursuit diminished.

 But they had another problem ahead of themvone that Dain had not yet solved.

 As though she were thinking the same thing, Alexeika said, The city gates. How do we get through 
them?

 I dont know.

 You cant batter them down. Theyre too strong, and too heavily guarded.

 But Dain was thinking hard. He said, Can you speak Gan-tese?

 Almost none, she said.

 Enough to get past the guards?

 How

 Can you say you have business beyond the city walls?

 II think so, she said doubtfully. But what

 Quick, then, he said, halting the reluctant darsteed. It rumbled and shook its head, snapping the air 
and lashing its tail, but he held it firmly. Youre wearing red mail, Believer mail.

 Aye, butoh.

 She stared at him as he twisted around to look at her. 


 Aye, he said swiftly, and pulled the bowl from his surcoat. Take off your surcoat and give me your 
cloak.

 Aye, he said swiftly, and pulled the bowl from his surcoat. Take off your surcoat and give me your 
cloak.

 At once she gripped it in protest. What are you doing?

 Making you a helmet, he said. Hush. I can make you look bigger. I can make this bowl look like a 
helmet. Wait. He paused, surprised to see her still armed with her daggers. How come you to have 
those?

 My daggers? she asked, and shrugged. I know not. They never took them from me. Perhaps 
theyre of no use against spell locks and protections.

 Dain grunted. Were trading places. Get off.

 What?

 He elbowed her in the stomach, shoving her off the darsteeds bony hindquarters. She landed on her 
feet and had to jump quickly to avoid the lash of the creatures tail.

 Dain pushed himself back behind the saddle. Get on, quickly!

 She climbed, avoiding a vicious bite by striking the darsteeds muzzle with her fist, and put the bowl 
back on her head. I feel like a fool. This cant work.

 Eldin magic is mostly about illusion. You let folks see what they expect to see, Dain said in 
explanation. He leaned close against her. I shall make an illusion that we are one rider, masculine and 
large.

 What about Thum?

 They wont see him.

 What about my face?

 I shall make the bowl look like a helmet so they never see your face.

 But it wont really be covered.

 In their eyes it will appear so. Remember to speak Gan-tese. Be gruff. Be curt and impatient. Do 
nothing else. Make no sudden moves, because the illusion will fail if you do. The spell will be very thin.

 But

 He gripped her shoulders. Trust me. And do what I ask.

 She nodded, although she still looked doubtful. But what kind of magic is this? Ive never heard of 
eldin doing sucli

 Its my magic, Dain said hurriedly. Something I taught myself to do.

 As she fell silent, the darsteed jumped without warning and nearly unseated both of them.

 Alexeika! Dain said in exasperation. You must control it. I cant concentrate on both things at 
once. 
All right, she muttered beneath her breath. Just get on with it. 
You wont feel anything. Dont trust your eyes, he warned her. Trust me, and stay within the 
illusion.

 She nodded, and he closed his eyes. After a moment he was able to clear the darsteed from his mind. 
He felt it shy again, fighting Alexeika and the reins. Somehow she held it, and Dain concentrated on the 
spell he was weaving. As once hed made men look like trees in the Nold forest to save their lives, so 
now did he weave this illusion, turning Alexeika and himself into one Believer in red mail.

 At last he opened his eyes, feeling fresh sweat pop out on his forehead as he struggled to hold the spell 
in balance. Now, he whispered.

 She eased the darsteed forward, threading it down a dark, narrow street between silent mud houses. 
In a few minutes they emerged into the open. The city walls rose up before them, and torchlight flared 
brightly at the gates. Their pursuers milled around there, shouting orders at the sentries, who replied with 
equal vehemence.

 Alexeika checked the darsteed suddenly. Oh, no!

 Dain felt the spell slip; he nearly lost it entirely. Join them. Stay at the rear. 


 She drew in a sharp breath, but then steadied herself. She rode up to the rear of the party, her 
darsteed snapping in ill temper at another. She was the only knight in red mail astride a darsteed. All the 
others of her rank were on horseback, but no one seemed to notice the discrepancy.

 She drew in a sharp breath, but then steadied herself. She rode up to the rear of the party, her 
darsteed snapping in ill temper at another. She was the only knight in red mail astride a darsteed. All the 
others of her rank were on horseback, but no one seemed to notice the discrepancy.

 Alexeika rode out behind them, and as the Believers fanned out into the darkness, Dain gradually 
dropped the illusion, then resumed control of the darsteed. He sent it a firm command 
Quiet/quiet/quiet/quietand the animal for once obeyed him perfectly.

 Without even a rumble, it dropped back from the others and picked its way quietly down into the ditch 
bordering the road.

 Cloaked in darkness, keeping well to shadow, they kept going cautiously until the ditch petered out in 
a dry canyon and the darsteed began to flounder in deep sand.

 Giving it a kick, Alexeika sent the beast climbing out of the shallow canyon, then they went galloping 
into the moonlit desert. Not until they reached the low hill where theyd first seen Sin-deul did Alexeika 
draw rein. Dain looked back at the city, which lay like a long dark smudge at the base of the black 
mountains. The tallest peak, sacred to Ashnod, was spewing fire at its top, and the smoke it emitted 
spread into the night sky, obscuring the stars and veiling the bright, round moon.

 Dain allowed himself to draw a long, deep breath. It was hard to believe theyd actually escaped, yet 
at the same time he felt scant relief. He knew the hardest part still lay ahead of them. 
As he took the bowl off Alexeikas head and slipped it back inside his surcoat, she laughed aloud. 
We did it! she crowed. Were free! Free of Gant and all its evil. 
Hush! he whispered, swiftly gripping her shoulder in warning. Sound carries far in the desert. 

Besides, they wont let us go this easily.

 I see no one in pursuit, she said. Weve lost them.

 Have we? he asked sharply. Where are the ones we followed out? Why do they not come after 
us?

 What does it matter, as long as were free?

 While we remain in Gant, we are not free, he said grimly. I think they may be waiting ahead of us, 
near the gateway to the second world.

 In ambush?

 Aye.

 As he spoke, the ground rumbled and quaked, causing the darsteed to shy. Dain saw the mountain 
erupting with fire. Molten lava spilled down its sides. The air, even at this distance, was suddenly filled 
with ash and smoke.

 Alexeika kicked the darsteed forward. Then we must avoid that trail and choose another. The desert 
is vast. Surely we can elude them.

 Before them stretched a vast sea of sand and bare rock, perhaps empty of life except for themselves. 
Dain had no idea of how far it was to the Charva, which bordered this land, how many leagues they 
needed to ride, how many days they had to travel. Was there any water to be found in such a vast 
wilderness? Was there anything to hunt for food? And if so, would it be edible?

 All these questions swam in his mind, but he touched Alexeikas shoulder and said, Let the darsteed 
run.

 She obeyed, and as the darsteed raced into the desert nightscape, Ashnod shook the ground and 
rimmed the edges of Sindeul with living fire. Whatever lay ahead did not matter, Dain told himself, 
because for them there was no going back.

 The following morning, as the sun came up and grew bright and hot, they took shelter of sorts beneath 
a rocky outcropping that cast scant shade. Keeping a sort of mental leash on the darsteed, Dain stripped 
off its bridle and let it roam to hunt.

 He and Alexeika had nothing to eat except the pocketful of grain shed stolen from mangers in the 
stables. Dain put the few precious kernels in the god-steel bowl in hopes of cleaning them of whatever 


taint they held, then he and Alexeika chewed them raw. Despite his efforts, the taste was foul, and the 
grain proved to be almost too hard to chew. Afterwards, his stomach hurt, ungrateful for what hed put 
into it.

taint they held, then he and Alexeika chewed them raw. Despite his efforts, the taste was foul, and the 
grain proved to be almost too hard to chew. Afterwards, his stomach hurt, ungrateful for what hed put 
into it.

 Throughout the day the heat grew more intense, until they were panting from it. Dain could think of 
nothing except water. He stripped bare to the waist, leaving himself clad only in leggings and boots, and 
used his clothing for a bed. Sweating and miserable, he fell into an exhausted sleep while Alexeika kept 
watch.

 When the sun began to drop low in the sky, Dain awoke, wiped his perspiring face and licked the 
sweat off his palms for moisture, then recalled the darsteed. To his relief, the creature came back, but it 
was bad-tempered and hungry. With difficulty they loaded Thum across its withers. Dain and Alexeika 
got on, and they turned their faces toward the huge, blazing orb sinking beyond the horizon. Dain rode all 
night, with Alexeika dozing against his back.

 The next dawn the darsteed found a small oasis with a muddy, brackish puddle beneath a sickly, 
yellow-green tree. Its dying, thorny foliage lay scattered on the ground and floated on top of the water. 
Tracks of wild creatures, all small, could be seen in the dried mud.

 Dismounting, Dain let the darsteed drink first while he sniffed and prowled hopefully, but he sensed no 
game nearby. For a moment his head felt light and his knees wobbled under him. He clung, half-swooning 
from hunger, to the darsteeds side, then pulled himself together and filled the bowl with water.

 When it cleared, he gave it first to Alexeika, then drank deeply himself. He refilled the bowl and 
managed to dribble some water past Thums dry, crusted lips. Moaning, Thum stirred and seemed about 
to awaken, but he did not.

 Worried about his friend, Dain supposed it was just as well that Thum stayed unconscious. His misery 
was lessened that way.

 In the end, Dain and Alexeika broke off twigs from the odd tree. He peeled back the tough bark with 
his thumbnail and gnawed the twigs like something demented.

 Sire!

 He looked up, alerted by the strange tone in Alexeikas voice. Shed climbed partway into the tree 
and was frozen there, staring at something shed found among the branches.

 What? he asked, squinting.

 At their backs, the sun was coming up, streaking the sky with coral and gold. With it came the heat 
that was their enemy. Dain frowned at Alexeika, who was making odd little noises in her throat.

 What? he asked again.

 Eggs, she said reverently. A nest of eggs.

 Nearly overwhelmed by this stroke of good luck, he closed his eyes. Merciful Thod, he whispered. 
Can you reach them?

 Aye. Here.

 With infinite care, she handed the fist-sized eggs down to him one at a time. He fought off the 
darsteed, which lunged at their bounty, and managed to keep the beast from stealing any. Grumbling, the 
darsteed lurched off, then stopped, glaring back at them with red, resentful eyes.

 Ignoring it, Dain and Alexeika busied themselves making camp a short distance away from the water 
hole. Alexeika built a fire, while Dain held up the eggs one by one. They were hard-shelled and an ugly 
greenish-black color. Four of them felt heavy; two did not.

 He and Alexeika baked the four heavy eggs in the ashes of the small fire, their mouths watering at the 
aroma. The darsteed stayed nearby, bugling its desire for food. Finally Dain tossed it the lightweight eggs 
hed rejected.

 Two snaps of the darsteeds jaws, and the eggs were gone. 


Go, Dain commanded, and finally the darsteed ambled off to hunt.

Go, Dain commanded, and finally the darsteed ambled off to hunt.

 Sniffing it cautiously, Dain smelled nothing foul. At his nod, Alexeika divided the egg between them, 
and they could barely wait for it to cool. Dain found the flavor too strong to have been appealing under 
different circumstances, but he ate all of his share and counted himself blessed. Half of an egg, though, 
was hardly enough. He stared at the rest of the eggs, tempted sorely to eat them all, before his gaze lifted 
to meet Alexeikas blue-gray eyes. He saw his own desperate hunger reflected in them. He realized that 
if his willpower weakened, hers would too. Thus far, shed proven to be resilient, brave, and stalwart. It 
was a relief to have a companion equal to the task at hand. She was no helpless lady, to be pampered 
and worried over. She could take care of herself.

 With a frown, he pulled his attention back to the situation at hand. Better save the rest of the eggs, 
just in case, he said regretfully.

 She licked her mouth and dropped her eyes to hide their disappointment. After a moment, she 
nodded, and he was grateful she did not whine or protest.

 Im going to make some lures, she said, and see if I can trap whatever comes to the water today.

 A good idea, Dain told her with a smile. Ill help you.

 Companionably they set to work, cutting supple branches from the tree and matching them by length. 
Alexeika unraveled threads from the edge of her cloak and braided them together to make a thin but 
strong cord. With it, she bent the lures into position while Dain carefully brushed out their tracks. 
Glancing over at her, he realized they had not argued since their escape. It was pleasant working together 
on a specific task, such as making these lures.

 Lets shift our camp upwind of the water, he suggested. And out of earshot. Nothing will come 
close if it smells or hears us today.

 Alexeikas assessing look held a new measure of respect. It would seem your majesty is a skilled 
hunter as well as a warrior.

 He grinned at her, for hed learned her compliments were rare. Kicking away a brown, furry spider as 
large as his hand, Dain settled himself in the scant shade created by spreading his cloak across two 
branches to form a crude lean-to.

 She hesitated a moment, standing there with her gaze on the horizon and her hands resting casually on 
the hilts of her daggers. Sire?

 Hmm?

 May I ask you about the man who died?

 Dain glanced up. What man?

 The one who was a guardian. The one who disappeared in thin air, then died. She was frowning, 
looking troubled. Her eyes, so clear and intelligent beneath dark brows, met Dains hesitantly. Was he 
your servant?

 Thinking of Suleins crazed final moments only reminded Dain of the Ring and all that had been lost 
with it. He scowled and drew up his knees beneath his chin. He was the physician of Thirst Hold.

 And ... I think . .. also a sorcerelT

 Nay! Dain said sharply. He wanted to be one, wanted others to think him one, but he lacked those 
powers. His spells were minor ones.

 But he could enter the second world at will, she said. As Quar took us. Surely that was possession 
of great ability.

 Dain frowned, still angry at the physician for having been such a greedy fool. Jabbing the red dirt with 
his thumb, Dain gouged a hole as he said, That was no special power of his. Sulein possessed the Ring 
of Solder.

 Alexeika turned pale. Staring at him, she opened her mouth but no sound came out. She dropped 
cross-legged on the ground before him. The Ring! she finally whispered in awe. I have heard its 
legend. But how came he by it? 


 Dain shrugged. He said he bought it from a peddler. How this could be, I know not. When I learned 
what it was and that it was part of my birthright, I tried to claim it, but Sulein would not release it into my 
keeping. He paused, his mouth twisting with bitter regrets. We could be traveling to Nether at this 
moment, in the blink of an eye. He snapped his fingers, and Alexeika flinched.

 Dain shrugged. He said he bought it from a peddler. How this could be, I know not. When I learned 
what it was and that it was part of my birthright, I tried to claim it, but Sulein would not release it into my 
keeping. He paused, his mouth twisting with bitter regrets. We could be traveling to Nether at this 
moment, in the blink of an eye. He snapped his fingers, and Alexeika flinched.

 Oh, aye, he believed that long before I did myself, Dain said. But he was an ambitious and greedy 
man. He wanted riches and great rewards, and he thought if he kept the Ring from me I would grant him 
anything he asked.

 Frustration welled up inside Dain and he clenched his fists, wishing he could run and run and run, the 
way he used to through the Dark Forest when his inner burdens grew too heavy to bear. But he was no 
longer a child, with a childs solution to problems.

 Why he panicked in Sindeul, I know not.

 Perhaps he was simply afraid, she said softly.

 Aye. Its a terrible place.

 More than terrible.

 Dain met her eyes, which held a haunted look. He knew his own must be reflecting back a similar 
expression.

 An unholy place, she whispered.

 He nodded. But now he is dead. He used the Ring improperly, and lost it forever.

 If you had it, she asked slowly, would you dare use it to take us from here?

 Aye. Then he remembered Tobeszijians warning and abruptly shook his head. Nay, I suppose not. 
Its use is for the benefit of only. Tis what happened to my father, after all. He used the Ring without 
harm to conceal the Chal-ice, but then he tried to save himself and is now trapped forever in the second 
world.

 She gasped. I didnt know this! Merciful Thod, I thought him dead. 
Dain sighed. Tis worse than being dead. He wanders, trapped between the first world and the third 
like a ghost. 
Before your path parted from this man Suleins, why didnt you use the Ring to find ? 
Because I didnt know where was, Dain told her. You cant just leap into the second world 

without a clear destination in mind. You could end up lost like Tobeszijian. Or dead, like Sulein.

 She frowned thoughtfully. Can anyone use the Ring, if they know how?

 That, I know not, Dain said. It is meant to be worn by the king. Sulein dared to use it, and you saw 
what happened to him.

 Aye, she said softly. I did.

 In the shade of the lean-to, Thum moaned.

 Hoping his friend was finally coming round, Dain dusted off his hands.  Tis no good talking about the 
Ring now, he said bitterly. Sulein saw to it that its gone forever.

 He checked on Thum, who was tossing feverishly. The squires dark red hair looked matted and dull, 
his eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, and his skin was hot to the touch. Dain gave him more water 
and tried to keep his face cool.

 Out in the sun, Alexeika sat cross-legged on the ground with her back turned slightly toward him as 
though to give herself privacy. She rolled up the sleeves of her linsey tunic and used a damp rag to clean 
her face and arms, which were growing bronzed beneath the merciless sun. Then she loosened her hair 
from its braid and began to work out its many knots and tangles with her fingers.

 Dain found himself watching her perform these simple, yet incredibly intimate acts. He felt 
uncomfortable, as though hed somehow invaded her privacy, yet there was nowhere else to go unless he 
were to risk sunstroke by wandering about in the desert. So, tired and stiff from riding all night, he 
reclined on one elbow under the lean-to and sleepily watched her finger-comb her hair.

 Hed had no idea there was such a wealth of it, or that it was so long and thick. Curly from having 
been braided, it flowed down her back to the ground. He remembered his sisters long hair, so fair and 
silky, and how Thia used to comb it every night, counting the strokes under her breath, before she went 


to bed.

to bed.

 Then she straightened and looked over her shoulder straight at him. Her blue-gray eyes held his a long, 
long while, entangled with emotions he could not read.

 He sensed nothing from her mind, nothing at all, yet there seemed to be something she expected. Hed 
noticed that Alexeika watched him often with a brooding frown, as though she wanted to say something 
to him, or to ask a question, or even perhaps to confide a secret. Yet she seldom spoke except as 
necessary. Todays questions were unusual for her. He found himself suddenly curious about her past.

 Alexeika, he said.

 She blinked, her gaze changing. Sire?

 Tell me about Nether. Tell me about its history, about your father and what you know of mine. Tell 
me about yourself and how youve grown up, what youve done since your father died.

 Something eager sparked to life in her remarkable eyes. She nearly smiled, then frowned. There is 
much to say in all that. I would bore your majesty.

 Dont be coy, he said sharply. Were I not interested, I would not ask. Talk to me a while, for tired 
as I am, I cannot sleep.

 Where do I start?

 Anywhere you like.

 And so she began to talk, keeping her voice low and quiet.

 He found her an excellent speaker. Her recountings were clear and concise and well-ordered. After a 
while she seemed to relax and forget his rank, for she began to sprinkle in pithy comments and 
observations that made him smile. He saw how keen and logical her mind was. The details she gave him 
were useful. He learned all she knew about his parents and the betrayal which had led to their doom. But 
when Alexeika began to talk of her own father, her tone softened and changed, filling with pride, love, 
and longing all jumbled together. Dain saw how profoundly she had adored and respected Ilymir Volvn, 
and he envied her for having grown up knowing her parent. Through the spinning of her tales, he could 
envision that tall, fearless general with his jutting nose and fierce gray eyebrows. When she described 
Volvns final battle, how he and his five hundred men took on a force of two thousand, only to be 
slaughtered by the unexpected arrival of Nonkind against all rules of combat, Dain heard the war cries 
and saw the terrible massacre as the rebels fell one by one. These had been men loyal to his father, King 
Tobeszijian. Men loyal to himself, although theyd never seen him.

 Bowing his head, Dain knew he owed such menowed all the Netherans who had fought and died in 
the cause of right a tremendous debt. It did not matter how much he still felt unworthy and unready for 
his kingly responsibilities. They had to be carried out. And he vowed anew that he would do what was 
required.

 Unless he failed to escape Gant.

 Tears welled up in Alexeikas eyes as she told him how shed released her fathers soul just before the 
looters returned to the battlefield.

 Im sorry I asked you to conjure up such painful memories, Dain said softly.

 She sniffed, and wiped her eyes as though ashamed to be caught weeping. I was so certain he would 
win. Until that day I never doubted that my father could do anything. The possibility of defeat never 
entered my mind, despite all his cautions. She frowned. I was such a child.

  Tis nothing wrong with being so. With having an innocent hope and belief in good, he said.

 Her eyes flashed fiercely. Nay! Tis better to know that life can be cruel indeed. Nothing is ever safe. 
Nothing ever remains unchanged.

 Would you want things to always be the same, Alexeika?

 Aye! I would wipe this year away, if I could. 


 Dain said nothing. Despite all that had happened to him in recent months, he would change little of it. 
Only the deaths, he thought, would he change. There had been too many of those, too many loved ones, 
friends, and comrades taken.

 Dain said nothing. Despite all that had happened to him in recent months, he would change little of it. 
Only the deaths, he thought, would he change. There had been too many of those, too many loved ones, 
friends, and comrades taken.

 Only to be pulled back into danger by me, Dain said. And because of me you were brought here to 
be a Gantese slave.

 The Grethori were worse, she said, tossing her head. All my life I have feared Gant, but nothing 
Ive seen here has been worse than the sheda and her spells.

 She didnt meet Lord Zinxt, Dain thought bleakly. She didnt walk through that palace of the lost and 
the damned. She didnt face the Chief Believer.

 He crawled out from under the lean-to, picked up the bowl, and rose to his feet. Exposed to the full 
blast of the sun, he felt himself instantly drenched with perspiration. The heat seemed to be baking his 
brain inside his skull. When he squinted across the horizon, the air shimmered from the heat, and for a 
wild moment he thought he saw riders coming their way.

 But it was only a mirage, and after a moment his racing heart slowed down.

 Get in the shade and rest, he told her. Ill go fetch more water and check the traps.

 Those should be my jobs, she said at once.

 Dain frowned. Alexeika, he said with more sharpness than he intended. You are neither my squire 
nor my servant. Nor do I want you to be. Avail yourself of the shade.

 A tide of red rose from her throat into her face, but Dain swung away from her and strode off toward 
the watering hole. His senses told him no animals had come to it; thus, he made no effort to be quiet. It 
was odd how, whenever he found himself starting to like the girl, she did something to irritate him. She 
had no business groveling around him like some lackey. Indeed, as a maidenand maiden she was, no 
matter how good a warrior she might also beit was unseemly for her to serve him; why didnt she 
understand that?

 He filled the bowl halfway with muddy water and watched it gradually clear. As he carried it carefully 
back, he checked their empty traps and let his vision sweep the horizon in all directions. The wind blew 
hot and dry against his face. Every breath he inhaled seemed to desiccate his body from the inside.

 When he returned to the lean-to, he found Alexeika sitting in the shade. Her loose tunic sleeves were 
rolled down to the wrists, concealing her lean, well-toned arms. Her beautiful hair had been pulled back 
in a severe braid. Looking stern and unhappy, she watched as he crawled next to Thum and began to 
bathe his friends feverish face.

 I do not understand how the bowl sweetens the water, she said at last.

 Dain finished dribbling a bit of the liquid between Thums parched lips and sighed. Be grateful for this 
gift of the gods.

 Isis this perhaps ? she asked in a hushed voice.

 Dain looked at her in surprise. Nay.

 I thought it must be. It seems to have such amazing powers. It has saved our lives and

  is in Nold, he said firmly, and handed her the bowl to drink from. That is where we go next.

 She lowered the bowl from her lips and frowned. Not to Nether?

 Ill not argue with you on this matter, he said in warning.

 Her frown deepened. I do not argue with you, sire. I merely asked for clarification.

 We go first to Nold, if we can reach it, he said, hardly willing to let himself hope that they might 
actually get as far as the border. But finding the water and food today had restored his faith in their 
survival, giving him new energy and optimism.

 With in my possession I will rally the scattered rebel forces into an army.

 But would it not be better to rally those forces now, in the last days of autumn? she countered. You 


will have all winter to train them into a strong fighting force. Then you can renew your quest fors 

will have all winter to train them into a strong fighting force. Then you can renew your quest fors 

 With a snap of his temper, Dain turned away from her. I told you I would not argue about this.

 It is not argument to discuss

 Alexeika, he said sharply, if you want me to be your king, then let me lead. Let me make the 
decisions.

 She jumped to her feet. Are you ever willing to be counseled in anything?

 Are you ever willing to accept it when I do not want such counsel?

 Why do you reject advice that is wise and sound?

 Learn to be rejected, he replied harshly. Learn to be quiet.

 Her cheeks grew red. Standing there with her long legs braced apart and her hands resting on her hips, 
she fumed visibly. I am only telling you what my father would tell you. I suppose that were he alive, you 
would pay heed to him.

 I thought we had this settled, he said in annoyance.

 I have seen you fight as no other man can fight, she said furiously. Why, then, do you turn coward 
whenever joining your army is mentioned? Whats amiss with you?

 Had she been a man, he would have struck her for that. As it was, he glared at her with such heat he 
thought the top of his head might explode. Somehow he held on to his temper and drew in several deep 
breaths until he thought he could control his voice.

 No doubt she thought he wasnt going to answer, for she continued: Or is it Lady Pheresas plight 
that keeps your wits bound in a knot? Cant you think of anything else? What about your kingdom? 
What about the peoples suffering? You think will heal your lady love, but what about

 Enough! he broke in. You seem to have certain expectations of me, of what I will do, of how I will 
act. And when I do not conform, you shriek at me like a fishwife.

 Her mouth opened, but he held up his hand to silence her.

 Hear me! There can be but one king, one leader. The rest must be followers!

 Sire

 Perhaps your father hoped to make himself king of Nether. Perhaps you think you should rule.

 She turned bright red and knelt at his feet. No, sire. I

 You want me to be something I am not. You refuse to accept me for what I am.

 Please

 But he was tired of her criticism. I am not Netheran-raised, Alexeika. Never will I react as you would 
probably wish me to. My actions are governed by many factors, some of which you know nothing 
about.

 I know about them, she said resentfully. I know you put Lady Pheresa ahead of your own throne.

 That again, he thought. As though Alexeika were somehow jealous of Pheresa, whom shed never 
met. The absurdity of it only fanned his anger more.

 I see, he said in a clipped voice. You think that because King Kaxiniz spoke unkindly about the 
lady you may do the same. No doubt if you were fed adequately and had sufficient sleep, you would 
show more charity to a maiden who has done you no ill whatsoever.

 His angry gesture cut her off. Let us put the ladys misfortunes aside. She is dead by now and beyond 
my ability to save her.

 Dead! Alexeika looked shocked. How know you this?

 Her guardians were among the prisoners in Sindeul, or have you forgotten? She and Prince Gavril 
were betrayed. The outcome is only too obvious.

 Alexeikas dark brows knotted, and her anger seemed to fade away. I had not made the connection. 
Im sorry.

 Sorry? he snapped. Aye, perhaps. Until the next time you see fit to judge my actions. These jealous 
outbursts become you ill. Did your father teach you to behave so toward your liege and king?

 Her face turned pale. No, sire, she whispered.

 As for , its welfare is more important than my throne. It is my duty to return it to Nether first, as I 


swore to my father I would.

swore to my father I would.

 Annoyed that he had revealed his private promise to his father, Dain glared at her. Yes, Princess 
Volvn, he said with icy formality, an oath sworn to Tobeszijian. A promise given. Do you understand 
that? Do you acknowledge the obligations a son must fulfill?

 Tears shimmered in her eyes. Yes, she whispered.

 He left her then, wishing he could stride out into the desert and work off his fury. Instead, he circled 
around behind the lean-to and settled himself there with an angry grunt. Shed provoked the stupid 
argument; he wondered how she liked the outcome.

 But he could take neither pride nor satisfaction in having crushed her. Instead, he felt faintly ashamed 
of himself for having been so harsh, although that only annoyed him more. She needed to be taught a 
lesson, and that was an end to it.

 In the empty silence beneath the wind, he heard her crying, the sound muffled and private.

 Feeling more guilty than ever, he scowled. That was the way of females, he thought with resentment. 
They provoked an argument, then cried when they lost. Well, damne, perhaps shed learn to bide her 
tongue. She had no business jumping to conclusions the way she did.

 Just before sunset, he awakened from uneasy slumber and sat up stiffly. His skin felt burned and raw. 
The inside of his mouth was so dry he could not spit. The prospect of riding through another night filled 
him with dread and an exhaustion so pervasive he did not think he could even stand up.

 But he forced himself to his feet. Alexeika was awake, and very subdued. She went to check the traps 
and came back with a shake of her head. 
In silence they shared another egg. Such a meager amount of food was so inadequate against his 
ravenous hunger he almost didnt want to eat at all. But afterwards he felt strong enough to break camp.

 Alexeika tucked their other two eggs away in her pockets while Dain gave more water to Thum. Both 
Dain and Alexeika drank as much as they could hold. Wishing he had some better means to transport 
water, Dain filled the bowl one last time and handed it to Alexeika to carry. Recalling the darsteed, which 
had tried to rub off its saddle during the day, Dain tightened the girths and lifted Thum onto its withers.

 Alexeika stood nearby, stiff and almost at attention. Her right hand was white-knuckled on 
Severgards hilt. Sire, she said formally, I wish to beg your forgiveness. I spoke wrongly to you today 
and deserved your ire. Please grant me your pardon.

 Wrath, resentment, shame, and deep unhappiness were all entangled in her voice. Dain realized she 
must have battled long and hard with her pride to make this apology.

 He also realized that her fiery spirit was far from broken, and that in the future she would likely give 
him more trouble.

 But did he really want to crush her spirit?

 Though he felt regret for some of the things hed said to her, he did not apologize in turn. Instead, he 
gave her a kingly nod. Its not the first time weve fought over this same matter, he said sternly.

 She bowed her head. No. I took your majestys reprimand before, yet I did not learn my lesson.

 You have not learned it now.

 Her head snapped up, but he did not let her reply. You apologize because you think you should, not 
because your heart has changed. There will be more arguments in the future.

 Sire, I

 Dont promise something you cant keep, he said.

 But I

 Perhaps it is right that you do question me, he said. His anger was gone; he was too weary to find it 

again. I think every king should have a friend fearless enough to speak her mind. Even if shes 
sometimes wrong. 
Alexeika stared at him in astonishment. He returned the stare a moment, then smiled. She smiled back, 
and when he held out his hand to her, she clasped it readily. 
He found her grip strong, her long fingers so different from Pheresas slender, delicate ones. But 
thinking of Pheresa only stirred up emotions of grief and rage at her fate. Frowning, 


 Dain swept Pheresa from his mind and climbed into the saddle.

 Dain swept Pheresa from his mind and climbed into the saddle.

 Even more worrisome was the lack of pursuit, for he knew the Chief Believer would not let him go this 
easily. He was the linchpin of the Gantese plan of domination. Somewhere, sometime, he knew, there 
must be a confrontation, or a trap. He told himself to stay alert, but weariness and aches kept dulling his 
senses.

 Yet despite his pessimism, there had been no more attempted contact by magemons. They 
encountered no traps. No riders appeared on the horizon behind them. No shapeshifters flew overhead 
to mark their location. They faced nothing but the terrible landscape and the deprivations of inadequate 
food and water. 

The following daybreak, the air stayed cooler than it had before. Different scents came to Dains 
nostrils, faintly intriguing but elusive, gone before he could identify them. He stiffened in the saddle and 
leaned forward as the starlight overhead faded and the day steadily brightened. They had left the desert 
behind. The darsteeds cloven hooves clinked now and then on dislodged pebbles. The terrain had 
changed, grown hilly and broken.

 A breeze picked up, stirred by the rising sun. It came from the west, blowing into Dains face. He 
turned his head and prodded Alexeika awake.

 What? she asked at once, reaching for her daggers.

 I smell water, he said. His heart leaped in hope, and for the first time he allowed himself to believe 
they were going to make it. Alexeika, I smell water!

 Another oasis? she asked, rubbing her face with her hands. She yawned and stretched while the 
darsteed plodded steadily onward.

 Nay. Dain lifted his face to the breeze, his nostrils sorting through various scents, which were 
stronger now. Trees. A lot of water. He grinned in excitement. I think it must be the Charva!

 At that moment the darsteed topped a rise, and there before them flowed the river of legend, rippling 
and rushing along between its rocky banks. On their side the hills dropped abruptly to a narrow beach of 
pebbles. The river ran glistening and shallow at the edge, so clear Dain could see the bottom pebbles. 
Here and there it foamed white over boulders in its course. Toward the center, the waters deepened to a 
swift channel.

 On the other side, boulders lay strewn about as though a giants hand had thrown them in a dicing 
game. The bank itself was flatter, wider, stretching gradually back toward a forest of pines, where the 
ground gleamed white beneath them.

 Dain inhaled deeply of the pines clean, pungent scent, and shivered in the cool dawn air. He untied his 
hauberk from the saddle, slipped it on, and rebelted Truthseeker and his dagger around his waist.

 The darsteed stood there atop the rise, surveying the landscape before it with uneasy snorts.

 Alexeika chuckled. It doesnt like the water. Do we release it here?

 Dain shook his head. Not if I can force it across. I know not exactly where we are, or in what realm 
well land on the other side.

 Pray to Thod its not Klad, she said. I know little of that land, and nothing Ive heard is promising 
to our cause.

 He smiled, his keen eyes surveying the forest. Perhaps its Nold. Ill know as soon as were across 
and I find clan markings.

 Whatever it is, let us go there as fast as we can!

 He laughed with her, his weariness forgotten, and kicked the darsteed forward. The sun was climbing 
ever higher behind him. It did not feel as hot on his back as on previous days, and he rejoiced in that. 
Despite terrible odds, they had survived the Gantese desert. Perhaps there had been no pursuit because 
the population of Sindeul had perished in the erupting volcano. Dain knew not what had befallen the 
Believers, and he did not care. He and Alexeika were going home.

 The darsteed flung up its narrow head and bugled. Thinking that it feared the water, Dain kept urging it 


forward. The darsteed fought him every step, slinging itself from side to side, then rearing.

forward. The darsteed fought him every step, slinging itself from side to side, then rearing.

 Well have to leave it behind, Alexeika said breathlessly, clinging to Dains waist.

 But Dain was determined to ride into Nether on a darsteed, determined to create a legend for himself 
no less than his fathers had been.

 Come! Alexeika urged him. Lets dismount and be done.

 Nay! Ill try one more time.

 He wrenched the darsteed around, but at that moment a terrible, putrid stench filled the air. It was so 
heavy and rotten it burned his nostrils and filled his mouth. Sick dismay sank his heart.

 Nonkind! he shouted.

 Alexeika was already drawing Severgard, which glowed as though on fire. Great Olas, protect us 
now, she prayed aloud.

 They came pouring into sight from farther upriver, horses and darsteeds galloping across the rocky 
beach. As they came, sunlight glinted off the riders chain mail. The hurlhounds ran in front. Their baying 
chilled Dain to his very bones. Here, at last, was the ambush hed feared all along.

 As the Believers came galloping at them, Dain drew Truth-seeker and kicked the darsteed again 
toward the water. Although reaching the Charva was now their only hope, the darsteed fought every 
step, costing them more precious minutes. Dain couldnt help but think, with a deep stab of frustration, 
that had the darsteed gone into the river the first time, theyd be halfway across by now and out of reach.

 Morde a day! he shouted aloud to the beast. You will go!

 Get off! Alexeika shouted. Lets leave the brute!

 And what of Thum? he asked, unwilling to give up. Am I to fight with him on my back?

 Well swim! Alexeika said. Never mind fighting.

 Baying came from Dains left, and he saw more Believers and hurlhounds stampeding their way from 
the opposite end of the rocky beach. They were cut off now on two sides, with the desert behind them. 
There was no choice but to enter the river.

 Dain touched Truthseeker to his darsteed, and the beast squalled in pain. Furiously it galloped 
forward, splashing into knee-deep water. When it stopped again, rearing and striking the air with its 
forefeet, it was something crazed, and Dain no longer could control it.

 Although the fire-knights on their darsteeds reined up at the waters edge, the red-mailed Believers on 
horseback charged into the shallows without hesitation. Dain gripped Thums unconscious form and 
shoved him off into the water. It was the only place of safety for his helpless friendunless Thum 
drowned, and even that would be better than recapture.

 Dain twisted in the saddle as the hurlhounds reached them and shoved Alexeika off the darsteed too.

 Yelling furiously, she hit the shallow water and floundered there, then jumped to her feet and 
brandished Severgard. Are you mad? she shouted. What

 Get Thum to safety! he shouted back. Swim for your life!

 There wasnt time to say more, for the hurlhounds came splashing into the water, only to yelp and leap 
back.

 The Believers on horseback galloped up and surrounded Dain. He could have jumped off and tried to 
swim away too, but he thought if he held these men for a few minutes it would give Thum and Alexeika a 
better chance to escape.

 Shouting defiance, he swung Truthseeker in ferocious combat. But no matter how mighty his sword, he 
could not fight all his foes at once. Even as he stood up in his stirrups to strike off one mans head, he 
was hit in the back with a blow that seemed to break his spine. All the air was driven from his lungs, and 
he reeled in the saddle.

 Somehow, he managed to parry another blow which came at his unprotected head. He figured he 
should have been dead already, but then realized they were hitting him with the flat sides of their swords, 
seeking to stun him and take him prisoner rather than kill him.

 The Chief Believer must still want him taken alive, Dain realized, and that helped him pull himself 


together. He fought harder than ever, determined never to be mastered or used for their evil purposes.

together. He fought harder than ever, determined never to be mastered or used for their evil purposes.

 Savagely he fought. He did not know how many came against him, or how many he sent tumbling into 
the blood-churned water under the darsteeds feet. Then his mount bolted, nearly unseating him, and 
Dain realized it was heading back to the bank, all but maddened by its partial immersion in running water.

 If it left the river, he knew, he would be doomed. With all his strength he wrenched the creature 
around, the darsteed rearing and fighting him all the way. A blow smote his shoulder, rendering his whole 
arm numb. He did not know how he managed to retain his grip on Truthseeker, for he could not feel his 
fingers, much less command them. Unable to lift his sword and gritting his teeth against the pain, he 
pressed Truthseeker to the darsteeds rump and commanded it with his mind at the same time.

 Crazed with agony, the animal bounded past the circle of attackers and jumped into the deeper water, 
where the swift-moving current made it stagger.

 One of the Believers forced his horse to follow and swung at Dain from behind. Glimpsing him from 
the corner of his eye, Dain twisted in a weak effort to parry the blow. But as he did so, the floundering 
darsteed lost its footing in the current.

 The water swept it over, and Dain went plunging with it beneath the surface, hopelessly tangled in the 
stirrups.

 The darsteed flailed, legs churning, while Dain struggled to get free. He hardly knew which way was 
up. His lungs were bursting with the clawing, desperate need for air. Yet no matter how he kicked and 
jerked in an effort to free his feet and get away from the darsteed, he could not seem to make it.

 A force caught him, and he tumbled upward. Breaking the surface briefly, he gulped in air before he 
was dragged down and away. He realized vaguely that it was the current, sweeping him and the darsteed 
together into deeper and deeper waters.

 Alexeika meant to consign Thum to the mercy of the gods and make a stand with Faldain, but as she 
jumped to the side to avoid one of the riders rushing at her king, she stepped into a hole and fell. The 
current grabbed her, and suddenly she was struggling to stay afloat. Her chain mail dragged her under the 
surface before she was able to kick her way back up. Gulping air and water, she managed to slide 
Severgard into its scabbard, thus freeing both hands to swim, but her mail and the heavy sword weighed 
her down so much she could barely keep her head above water.

 Behind her, she heard the shouting and clanging swords of battle. Her heart was screaming, for she 
knew Faldain could not prevail against so many. With all her strength she tried to swim back to him, but 
the current was too strong for her.

 Although she was an excellent swimmer, the deep still waters of the northern fjords were nothing like 
this river, which swept and tumbled her relentlessly along. She realized that if she were to survive, she 
had to keep swimming, keep angling against the current in an effort to reach the opposite shore.

 As she struggled along, she was swept into a pile of logs caught against some boulders. The impact 
shook her bones, but she was able to clutch one of the water-slick logs and hang on for a few minutes, 
long enough to catch her breath and cough some of the water from her lungs.

 Shoving her dripping hair out of her face, she stared upriver, but shed been carried too far away 
around a bend. She could not see Faldain, and no longer heard the battle sounds, for the rushing water 
was too loud.

 She clung there, her hands slipping periodically, and her face twisted with wrenching grief for all their 
shattered hopes. Angrily she struck the water with one hand, struck it again and again and again before 
she stopped and began to sob.

 At that moment a body came bobbing past her, and her heart lurched before she saw the red mail and 
realized that it was a Believer.

 Go to perdition! she shouted, then lost her handhold and slid back into the water. 


 The rest, however brief, had revived her strength a bit. Although the strong current still swept her 
along, she renewed her struggles to keep swimming despite being seriously hampered by boots and 
clothing. No matter how much Severgard pulled her down, she refused to throw it away. She would 
drown with it rather than lose it now.

 The rest, however brief, had revived her strength a bit. Although the strong current still swept her 
along, she renewed her struggles to keep swimming despite being seriously hampered by boots and 
clothing. No matter how much Severgard pulled her down, she refused to throw it away. She would 
drown with it rather than lose it now.

fury faded in an instant.

 Thum! she cried out, aghast at what shed nearly done.

 She pulled him close, got her arm around him, then kicked with all her might as she struck out for the 
bank.

 Eventually, when she thought her arms would fall off at the shoulder from sheer exhaustion, she 
reached shallow water. Her feet touched bottom, slipping as the.pebbles and mollusk shells rolled 
treacherously beneath her. Staggering, she emerged from the river, pulling Thum along with the last dregs 
of her strength.

 A slim, brown-furred weasyn, startled by her appearance, retreated from the waters edge with a fish 
in its mouth, and dashed into the forest.

 She stumbled and fell to her hands and knees in the water, crying with grief and fatigue, but after a 
moment she forced herself up and pulled Thum completely out of the water and laid him down gently on 
the pebble-strewn bank. It was a miracle that he still lived, she mused, then decided that Mandrians must 
be tougher than they looked. As she knelt over him and pumped the water from his lungs, his hazel-green 
eyes flickered open momentarily.

 Dain? he whispered.

 Grief overcame Alexeika. She stopped working on him and sat down with her knees drawn up tight 
within the circle of her arms. She was dripping wet; her clothing was plastered to her body, making her 
shiver in the crisp early morning air. In sudden fury, she hurled a stone, then another and another until she 
started sobbing.

 The sunlight grew brighter. Birds were singing in the forest behind her. Shed not heard birds the entire 
time they were in Gant. Yet now that she was back in a normal place, it somehow didnt matter. Nothing 
did, for Faldain was lost forever.

 Tears spilled down her cheeks. She remembered how hed shoved her into the water, then turned to 
face the enemy closing in around him. Shed seen no fear on his handsome face, only courage and 
determination as he put her safety ahead of his own. He was a natural-born champion, a king to his very 
fingertips.

 Yet, what good were his courage and valor now? Hed saved her and Thum but lost himselfand 
Netherforever.

 You brave, stubborn fool! she whispered.

 During their days together in the desert, riding at his back with a proximity that made her entrails melt, 
shed grown sensitive to his every mood, his every change of expression. When hed stripped to the 
waist, revealing powerful muscles and thews, shed had to busy herself to hide her trembling. During the 
hot days, shed often lain awake just so she could watch him sleep, imprinting every detail of his face on 
her memory.

 But no matter how handsome he was, his inner qualities were even finer, for he was kindhearted, 
gentle, and compassionate. Of course, he had many faults as well. He could be prickly and defensive, 
seeing criticism too often in remarks that were meant kindly. There could not be a more stubborn man 
alive. He kept too much to himself, which caused misunderstandings. Yet there was such generosity in 
him, such a concern for and awareness of the plight of others. Not once had he lost patience with his 
injured friend Thum or contemplated abandoning him in the wasteland. Even when hed lost his temper 
with Alexeika, hed seen that she drank her fill of water and taken care to share their meager food 
equally. Hed even given eggs to that hideous darsteed, as though taking pity on it.

 Alexeika knew she was wrong to feel jealous of the maiden hed loved. Shed tried every means she 


could think of to gain his attention, from demonstrating her skills at swordplay to un-braiding her hair to 
picking arguments with him. She believed that had she ever managed to win his heart, he would have 
been as faithful and loyal to her as hed been to poor Lady Pheresa. How Alexeika craved such devotion 
and wished that for a single day she could have known it.

could think of to gain his attention, from demonstrating her skills at swordplay to un-braiding her hair to 
picking arguments with him. She believed that had she ever managed to win his heart, he would have 
been as faithful and loyal to her as hed been to poor Lady Pheresa. How Alexeika craved such devotion 
and wished that for a single day she could have known it.

 And because shed been jealous and petty, shed ensured his doom.

 Slowly Alexeika reached for the cord that hung about her neck beneath her hauberk. She pulled out 
the Ring of Solder, which shed picked up the day it fell from dead Suleins hand. Now, holding it aloft 
so that the large milky stone shone in the sunlight, she faced her guilt and shame.

 Had she given this to Faldain immediately, he could have recovered , perhaps even saved the maiden 
he loved. He would be free today, maybe already united with his army. He would not be a prisoner of 
the Gantese, would not at this moment be enduring the horror of losing his soul. Even as she sat here, 
mourning him, he was being turned into Nonkind, doomed to serve Ashnods bidding forever.

 It was all her fault. She, who had been raised from birth to serve Faldains cause, had instead 
destroyed him.

 She lowered her head to her knees, and wept with all her heart.

 A faint noise startled her from her misery. Fighting back her tears, Alexeika felt a wild stab of hope 
that Faldain had somehow escaped the Believers and survived unharmed.

 She looked up swiftly, but it was not her young king who stood nearby, but instead a band of perhaps 
twenty dwarves. Shaggy of beard and dressed in coarsely woven clothing as drab as the forest colors of 
stone, moss, and bark, they stared at her in hostile silence with bows and war clubs in their hands.

 Dismayed, Alexeika realized her troubles were far from over. Perhaps justice intended her to meet her 
end at the hands of these strangers, but she dismissed the thought quickly. She tucked the Ring of Solder 
out of sight, knowing it was her duty to return to Nether with it. She needed to determine how it could be 
used to withstand Gants attack against her homeland. She might even have to use it against Faldains 
soulless shell.

 Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, but she put aside her grief and tried to think of how to handle this 
newest kind of trouble.

 Some of the dwarf clans were civilized and peaceful; they traded with men of other lands and worked 
hard for the gold they hoarded in their burrows. Others were wildalmost feral and warlike. They 
raided loot to live on and dealt peaceably with no one except members of their own clan.

 She did not know much about dwarves, but she very much feared she was facing the latter kind.

 Slowly, trying to make no sudden moves that the dwarves might misconstrue, Alexeika rose to her feet 
and forced herself to hold out her hands empty of weapons.

 Even that peaceful move alarmed them. Several drew their bows and aimed arrows at her. The rest 
stiffened, glaring at her with more menace than ever.

 She knew almost nothing of the dwarf tongue; there were too many confusing dialects. Peace, she 
said awkwardly. Peace to you.

 The dwarves stared at her as though they did not understand.

 No other words came to her, and in frustration she spoke in Netheran. I mean you no harm.

 One of them shot an arrow at her. It struck the ground just short of her foot, and Alexeika flinched. 
Her heart thudded against her rib cage, and suddenly she found it hard to breathe. Still, she knew she 
must not let fear master her if she was to survive.

 Peace! she said again. I have no quarrel with you.

 Gant! one of the dwarves shouted at her. His yellow eyes glared from beneath bushy brows, and his 
brown beard was atangle with twigs and bits of leaves. Nearly rigid with contempt and hatred, he jabbed 
his finger at her. Gant!

 I just escaped from there, she said. I and my ...

 Her voice trailed off, for the dwarf was still pointing at her in plain loathing. Glancing down at herself, 
she realized it must be her red chain mail that had upset them. Comprehension filled her. Of course. They 
obviously thought her a Believer. 


 You dont understand, she said, although she wasnt sure how she was going to explain. Im not

 You dont understand, she said, although she wasnt sure how she was going to explain. Im not

 The spokesman shouted at her, gesturing in emphasis, but she could not understand what he was 
saying. Aware that at any moment they were likely to shoot an arrow through her throat, Alexeika pulled 
Severgard from its scabbard and held it up.

 Several raised their war clubs in response, but when she made no effort to attack they hesitated.

 Glaring at them, she raised Severgard higher so that they could all see it. Its huge sapphire glittered in 
the sunlight, and the blade gleamed. Look at it! she said. A magicked blade, my ancestral sword, and 
dwarf-forged. It was mined from the Mountains of the Gods.

 They understood that much, for some of them murmured and exchanged swift looks.

 Its name is Severgard. Do you know it? Was it made by an ancestor of your clan?

 They stared at her, but no one answered.

 Severgard! she repeated. Magicked and forged to fight Nonkind. No Believer from Gant could 
hold such a weapon. 
Gant! the spokesman said angrily. Gant! 
Nay! she shouted back. I am Netheran! I took this armor from a foe I defeated. It is my war 
trophy. Do you understand? 
I am not Gantese. Nor is he! She pointed Severgard at Thum. Hes Mandrian. Netheran and 

Mandrian, not Gantese.

 Nether, the dwarf said slowly. His yellow eyes assessed the weapon she held. Nether.

 Yes! I am from Nether. She bared her teeth at him. No fangs, see? I am from Nether.

 He looked at her teeth without coming closer, then pointed toward the forest. She stared at him a 
moment, but he stamped his feet and pointed with angry jabs, indicating that she should go in that 
direction. She slowly slid Severgard back into its scabbard, then bent over Thum in an effort to rouse 
him.

 Dwarves surrounded her, and some pushed her hands away. They picked Thum up, draped his thin 
length across their shoulders, and marched away with him.

 More dwarves crowded behind Alexeika, prodding her forward. She fought down her panicky 
feelings, assuring herself that all she needed was a way to communicate with them. If they could be made 
to understand that she was not Gantese, she did not think they would harm her. Even now, as she 
followed her captors into the forest of sweet-smelling pines, her feet silent on the fallen needles, she felt 
heartened because they had not sought to disarm her. She was not a prisoner yet. She must keep her 
wits about her, and not let fear overcome her good sense.

 They walked deep into the forest. The pines grew thicker together, and were interspersed occasionally 
with stands of shtac and harlberries. Some of the latter bushes still had fruit clinging stubbornly to their 
branches. She grabbed what she could, but found the berries frost-burned and shriveled to tasteless 
knots. She ate them anyway, for she was nearly light-headed with hunger. Sometimes they had to push 
their way through the fragrant pine boughs in order to keep to the trail. Now and then a fallen log lay 
across it, but they climbed over it rather than go around. The dwarves seemed oddly loath to leave the 
trail. She wondered why.

 Ahead she heard a drum pounding. Its steady, primitive sound filled her with unease. Now and then 
through spaces in the trees, she glimpsed a cleared expanse of white ground where no forest grew. She 
could not clearly see what it was, but she did not think it snow.

 At midday, they reached a large clearing in the pines and an enormous dwarf camp. Countless tents 
were pitched very close together. On the far side of the clearing, a stand of thick-trunked oaks of 
tremendous age stood clumped together, bare-branched and massive against a backdrop of dark green 
pines. An ancient stone altar covered with small bronze offering bowls stood beneath the oaks.

 A rope pen held a collection of short, shaggy ponies and donkeys. A grizzled oldster with his beard 
plaited in several sections sat on a stump, busily carving an ash quarterstaff with the faces of wood spirits 
while children watched him. There were wagons and carts holding peddler wares. Dwarves of all ages 


milled around. Some wore coarse linsey; others were garbed in furs and looked as wild as the Dark 
Forest they undoubtedly came from. Makeshift forges stood side by side in rows, and the air smelled of 
both heated metal and cooking. A young female dwarf emerged from a hole in the ground next to the 
surface roots of a large tree. After shaking the soil from her hair, she went running toward the crowd.

milled around. Some wore coarse linsey; others were garbed in furs and looked as wild as the Dark 
Forest they undoubtedly came from. Makeshift forges stood side by side in rows, and the air smelled of 
both heated metal and cooking. A young female dwarf emerged from a hole in the ground next to the 
surface roots of a large tree. After shaking the soil from her hair, she went running toward the crowd.

 Such an air of excitement pervaded the camp that Alexeikas arrival was largely ignored. Laughter 
punctuated the chatter, and folk called out shrilly to each other, beckoning. Some went running to join the 
throng congregated around a blazing bonfire.

 Halted by her escort, Alexeika waited while one of the dwarves hurried off and the others crowded 
close around her.

 The drum was pounding louder than ever. Alexeikas head started pounding with it, and she was ready 
to sink to the ground in weariness when she heard a bugling snort.

 Her head whipped around, and she stared at the spot where the crowd was clustered most thickly. 
Her heart was thudding. She told herself she was mistaken, but then the darsteeds head lifted into sight, 
its red eyes aglow.

 Staring, she felt her throat choke with a hope she dared not admit even to herself.

 It couldnt be, she told herself.

 The Believers had outnumbered Faldain too greatly for him to escape. The darsteeds presence here 
meant only that it had been abandoned when Faldain was captured. Somehow it must have crossed the 
river, only to be captured by these dwarves.

 And yet... and yet...

 She stretched on tiptoe, trying to see. Faldain! she shouted. King Faldain!

 Her captors gawked at her. People in the crowd fell quiet. Many turned to look at her, and as they 
did, the crowd parted between her and the darsteed. And there stood Faldain with his hauberk 
half-laced and a darkening bruise on his cheek. He held a stone jar of ointment in his hand, and had 
apparently been smearing the stuff on the darsteed where large patches of its black, scaly hide were 
peeling off.

 He smiled at Alexeika, smiled with such warmth and obvious pleasure she felt it all the way across 
camp.

 With a wordless cry, she went running to him. Her head was roaring. She could not feel the ground. 
All she could see was Faldains face, his smile.

 And with every step she thought joyously, He is alive. He is alive.

 She did not know how hed escaped the Believers. At the moment she did not care. His being here 
seemed like a complete miracle to her. Either he had more luck than any man alive, or the gods 
themselves were guarding his safety. Each time she believed him lost, he reappeared somehow.

 But then she stumbled and came to a halt, breathless and afraid. The gods were giving her a second 
chance, but how could she confess now what shed concealed and kept from him? He would hate her for 
it.

 Faldain thrust his rag and jar of ointment into someones hands, and beckoned to her. Sunlight shone 
into the clearing, bathing him in such brightness his chain mail glinted with every move he made. His black 
hair brushed his shoulders, and his pale gray eyes held all the future. He looked tall and hale and 
magnificent.

 She dropped to her knees before him, and bowed her head.

 I dont believe it, she whispered. I thought your majesty lost.

 Nay, he said, and his voice rang out deep and assured in the sudden hush about them. I was able to 
get into deep water and thus escaped. 
He made it sound so easy. Alexeika looked at the bruise on his face and knew it had not been. 
The dwarves were watching avidly, nudging each other and whispering. Her yellow-eyed captor 
caught up with her and said something in the dwarf tongue. 
Faldain replied fluently. 


 Gant! the dwarf said, pointing at her vehemently. 
Faldain shook his head and explained. As he spoke, Alexeika slowly rose to her feet. She was 
shivering in her wet clodi-ing and breathing hard in an effort to control herself.

 Gant! the dwarf said, pointing at her vehemently. 
Faldain shook his head and explained. As he spoke, Alexeika slowly rose to her feet. She was 
shivering in her wet clodi-ing and breathing hard in an effort to control herself.

 She realized she must give it to him, must tell him everything. And yet, if she did he would dismiss her 
from his service, for how could he ever trust her again? Although she knew she deserved such 
punishment, she could not bear to be driven from him now, not when shed found him again.

 His hand gripped her shoulder, startling her. Whats amiss? he asked. Are you hurt?

 Nay, sire. Im well.

 But her voice quavered through her answer, fooling him not. She tried to pull back, but his fingers 
tightened with painful strength.

 Thank you for saving Thums life, he said. Maug tells me you did not let him drown, and I owe you 
much for

 This time she did twist away from his touch, by rising to her feet. Your majesty owes me nothing*. 
she said too vehemently. Then she made the mistake of meeting his gaze, and sudden tears filled her eyes. 
She was appalled by her weakness, yet there seemed to be nothing she could do about it.

 Forgive me, sire, she mumbled, pressing her hand to her face. I thought... I was sure... She could 
not go on.

 Faldain took her hand, too brown and callused to be a ladys, and squeezed it in reassurance. He even 
brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face. He was so close she felt overwhelmed by his physical 
proximity. His kind concern shone in his eyes, and seeing it, she wept all the more.

 For it was not his kindness she wanted as her body had craved water in the desert; it was his love.

 All is well now, he said gently. Be at peace, my lady. These are dwarves of the Nega Clan. They 
will help us.

 She sniffed, and nodded, but could not stop her tears.

 Faldain stepped away from her and beckoned to two dwarf females in long tunics. Broad-faced, with 
large, perceptive eyes and hair the matted texture of moss, they came shyly forward. Faldain spoke 
rapidly to them in dwarf before turning back to her. Go with these women, Alexeika. I have told them 
you are unwell. They will see that youre fed and are given a quiet place to rest.

 She was horribly embarrassed by her weakness. Shed tried so hard to be as strong as any warrior, 
and now shed broken down. Im sorry, sire, she whispered, wiping at her tears. Im sorry.

 No need to apologize, he said in concern. Get some rest. When you are well again, well talk of our 
next strategy.

 The women led her away to a tent that smelled of soil and moss. Tiny glowstones cast faint illumination 
in its shadowy interior. While one pulled off Alexeikas boots, the other brought her food and drink. 
Ravenous, Alexeika wolfed it down without heed for the unfamiliar spices and flavorings. They brought 
her a pail of water for washing, and dry clothes, then discreetly withdrew, lowering the flap behind them.

 Alexeika found herself intensely grateful for the solitude. Aware that it was her exhaustion which had 
left her so vulnerable, she wept some more, then lay down to sleep.

 It was not an easy slumber, for she dreamed of battles and blood. She dreamed of her father, striding 
along the battlefield in search of his soul, a soul shed released. She ran after him, crying out, Im sorry, 
Papa! Im sorry!

 But he ignored her, pacing back and forth in a desperate search. I must have my soul back! he said. 
I was not ready to die.

 When at last she awoke, twilight had cast murky shadows in her tent, and the little glowstones shone 
more brightly. The air felt cold. Finding a comb, Alexeika used it, then washed the dried sticky tears from 
her face. Her eyes felt puffy and sore. She was hungry again, and finally ventured outside her tent.

 A youth with square shoulders and short, bandy legs had obviously been waiting for her to appear. 
Giving her a shy smile, he beckoned for her to follow and escorted her across camp to a large fire where 


many were seated on the ground, eating roasted stag and jabbering nonstop.

many were seated on the ground, eating roasted stag and jabbering nonstop.

 Faldain found her there soon after, sitting cross-legged on the cold ground and shivering a bit in the 
crisp night air while she gnawed on a meaty bone.

 At the sound of his voice, she tossed her food aside and scrambled hastily to her feet.

 Forgive me for my unseemly display earlier, sire, she said, stammering a little in mortification. I 
dont know what came over me.

 He sent her a peculiar look. Did your father force you to act like a son?

 His odd question surprised her. She frowned. What? Nay, sire. Why?

 Its just that you seem to hold yourself to a warriors standard of conduct rather than a ladys.

 Heat rushed up into her face, and she was mortified anew. II just find it easier to fight if I hold 
myself

 Alexeika, he broke in gently, giving her a faint smile. I do not criticize you. I just want you to know 
that you need not apologize for acting womanly today.

 For weeping like a gutless fool, she said bitterly.

 He laughed at that. Youre far from gutless. Come. Put aside your dark mood and walk with me.

 Happiness flared to life instantly inside her. Smiling back, she accompanied him to the edge of the 
clearing, well away from the others.

  Tis their annual fair, Dain explained. Cousins meet cousins. Family is reunited with family. 
Daughters see their parents again. Tis a special occasion for them. They have contests of skill at the 
forges and do much celebrating.

 Oh.

 Tomorrow they will begin conducting the worship ceremonies. Youths will be initiated into adulthood. 
Marriages will be performed.

 She gazed at his profile, telling herself to find her courage now and give him the Ring. Instead she 
asked, What is it your majesty wants to talk over with me?

 He pointed into the darkness. Out there lies the Field of Skulls.

 She gasped, and everything else fled her mind. Thods mercy, but it cant be. Thats a legend, nothing 
more.

 He gazed at her intently, his face half in shadow. So even in Nether you have heard of it.

 Aye, of course, but its just a tale, not reality.

 It exists, Faldain said grimly. I have known about it all my life. Jorb, my dwarf guardian, told Thia 
and me many stories of the terrible battles that were fought in antiquity on that ground.

 Thinking of the old legends shed heard as a child, Alexeika felt chilled. Its no place for men to 
walk, she whispered.

 Yet I must walk there, Faldain said. Tonight.

 Why? As soon as the question was out of her mouth, she grimaced and shook her head. Forgive 
me, sire. I do not mean to question you.

 Of course you do, he said, but tolerantly. Now come, and tell me how it is too dangerous and how 
I must not risk myself there.

 He was teasing, but she remained serious as she answered: If its really the Field of Skulls, so many 
died on it that nothing grows there to this day. So many bones lie on the field that the ground is still white 
with them. Its supposed to still be laced with potent powers and spells. It is not safe.

 I know that, Alexeika.

 And still you are curious.

 He snorted. Im no amulet hunter. My purpose is not to gawk and marvel.

 A sense of dread seized her, and she reached out to him, though she dared not touch his arm. Why 
must you go there? Why take the risk of disturbing the ghosts of long-dead warriors? It is no place for 


men.

men.

 Astonished, she stared at him in silence.

 I have learned that the potency which lingers on the Field can still enhance anyones powers. For that 
reason I believe I can summon Tobeszijian to me.

 Shivering, she stared at Faldain in awe. You could raise the ghosts of a thousand slain warriors with a 
summoning. Do you truly dare it?

 He screwed up his face in worry. It is not as though I have never seen him in visions. But since I left 
Mandria he has not come to me. There is much I need to ask him, Alexeika.

 This is a terrible risk. What if you summon things you cannot withstand?

 He shrugged. Truthseeker will guard me. Alexeika, there is a favor I seek from you.

 Yes?

 As a sorcerelle

 Nay! she said vehemently. I am not!

 But twas you who summoned me, long ago, in a spell.

 She gasped, guilt and embarrassment flying through her. Sire, II was foolish then. I hardly knew 
what I was doing. I could have harmed you.

 But you did not. Why did you seek me?

 She averted her face in shame. I didnt. I mean, I wanted our priest to summon a vision of you to 
encourage the people after my fathers terrible defeat, but Uzfan wouldnt do it.

 And so you did it instead. Why does this not surprise me?

 Not by intention, she explained, wishing the ground would swallow her. I was grieving for my 
father, and I wanted to see him so, I tried to summon him. You came instead. My gift goes awry. No 
matter what I seek to do with it, something else happens. Something unexpected.

 Still, you are the only sorcerelle available to me.

 Im not! Having a trace of eldin blood in my veins does not make me such a creature.

 You have more power than you will admit.

 She frowned. Uzfan said I could not be trained. I cannot control my gift as you do yours.

 Eldin females are always more adept than malefolk, he persisted. Go forth with me, Alexeika, and 
part the veils of seeing. Show me Lady Pheresa, and whether she yet lives or lies dead.

 Alexeika felt as though a pail of icy water had been dashed over her. Stiffening, she stood there and 
could not speak.

 He gave her a strange look. Must I plead with you?

 Rage burned her heart. How could he ask her to do such a thing for him? Desperately she sought an 
excuse, any excuse, to refuse. Sire, II cannot!

 Of course you can.

 No, she said, retreating from him. I tell you, I cannot. Please!

 Nonsense! he snapped. Is it only when you have a blade in your hand that you know courage?

 That hurt. Breathing hard, she whirled to leave him, but he seized her arm and held her fast.

 Nay, my warrior-maid, he said fiercely. I must know her fate.

 You said all her guardians had been taken from her. You said she was dead.

 I believe she is, he replied raggedly. But Cardo, the clan leader here, has heard that armies are 
massing on the Netheran border.

 Her head snapped up. Truly?

 Aye. Now is the time for quick action, yet I will not proceed blindly. If shes alive, by some slim 
chance, she could be used as a pawn in negotiations, ransomed, threatened as a hostage, anything. I must 
know the truth with absolute certainty.

 Alexeika nodded, forcing herself to calm down and listen. Aye, she agreed reluctantly. The usurper 
is not above using any tactic to his advantage. He has so little honor that he would even threaten a sick 
woman.

 Well? Faldain demanded. Will you part the veils? 


 And if my seeing goes awry?

 And if my seeing goes awry?

Because I love you too much, and I hate her more, Alexeika thought. Again she told herself to give 
him the Ring of Solder and flee, but she could not do it. Her will was too weak, her feelings too strong. 
She would do anything, sacrifice her own honor, to stay with him as long as she could. It shamed her, but 
even shame could not help her do the right thing.

 Alexeika! Damne, must I beg you? he cried, then grimaced and made a gesture of apology. Nay. I 
will not force you to do this. I ask it as a favor. But tell me now if you will do it or not.

 She felt both cold and on fire. The lie kept spreading around her, and she could not break its hold 
now, for it had gone on too long, had grown too strong to rectify. But how was she to answer his 
request? Even if she did part the veils, what would her jealousy and secrets wring from the seeing? She 
was terrified to find out, yet to refuse him anything seemed beyond her ability. He had asked for her help, 
and her love would not let her say no.

 Aye, sire, she said woodenly, Ill do it.

 Good! Laughing, he clapped his hands together. Run and fetch your cloak.

 Now? she asked, appalled. But is this the most propitious time?

 We must act without delay, he said. As soon as the dwarves go to their rest tonight, well venture 
forth.

 Part Four

 They were coming again.

 Propped up limply in the tall-backed chair like a childs rag doll waiting for its owner to return, 
Pheresa heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching.

 Closer they came.

 Closer.

 She tried to rouse herself, tried to force herself to sit up straight, to receive them with dignity, but she 
could not move. Her limbs were leaden, lifeless. Her heart beat sluggishly inside her breast, and she could 
barely blink her eyes.

 She sat in a long, empty gallery. On one side were a series of tall windows overlooking the snowy 
vista. Along the opposite wall were floor-to-ceiling mirrors, evidence of incredible past wealth, although 
many were now cracked and broken, begrimed, and fly-spotted. A few globes of kings glass hung 
suspended from the vaulted ceiling. Originally there must have been many such globes, but now their 
empty chains dangled. Long ago, someone had attempted to bind the remaining globes in protective 
cloth, but it had rotted away except for a few tattered strips.

 Sometimes she dreamed of what this gallery had once looked like, with so much shining glass reflecting 
the can-dlelight while courtiers danced and made merry. Now it was a place of ghosts and broken 
dreams, eerie with shadows and cobwebs, with only rats dancing in the dead of night.

 Megala, her serving woman, had vanished without explanation, and Pheresa feared the worst. A 
deaf-mute caretaker, terribly disfigured, and afraid of her, came limping in twice a day to build a meager 
fire in the tiled stove and to bring trays of food. Sometimes Gavril appeared to eat; often, however, he 
forgot and simply went on wandering aimlessly about the palace, prowling and talking to himself. If he did 
not come, there was no one to feed Pheresa. Unable to move more than her fingertips, unable to grasp a 
bowl of thin, greasy soup, much less lift it to her lips, she sometimes had to sit there with the food 
tan-talizingly close yet impossible to reach. Hours would pass while the soup congealed and the bread 
grew stale. If the bold rats ate it in front of her, she would cry, averting her eyes and holding back her 
screams.

 She knew instinctively that if she ever broke, if she ever let herself utter those internal screams, she 
would never stop.

 The only brightness to her dreary days was when the potion was brought to her by Master Vlana, a 
court physician. Sometimes Count Mradvior came along. He would chat with her after the potions 
effects took hold and she regained enough strength to converse. But on the days when the magician, the 


creature called a sorcerel, came to observe her condition, Pheresas fear left her trembling and silent. 
She could barely bring herself to meet Tulvak Sahms peculiar eyes, lest he enspell her. He always 
smelled of mysterious spices and something bitterly pungent. Ashes powdered his clothing, and when he 
bent over her to tap her fingernails or to peer into her eyes, his breath reeked of sulfur.

creature called a sorcerel, came to observe her condition, Pheresas fear left her trembling and silent. 
She could barely bring herself to meet Tulvak Sahms peculiar eyes, lest he enspell her. He always 
smelled of mysterious spices and something bitterly pungent. Ashes powdered his clothing, and when he 
bent over her to tap her fingernails or to peer into her eyes, his breath reeked of sulfur.

 What fools she and Gavril had been to come here. How naive, young, and trusting theyd been to 
believe the Nether-ans possessed either honor or compassion. Gavril had brought them right into a trap, 
despite all the warnings, and then hed been so shocked, so surprised when their flag of pilgrimage was 
violated.

 His reaction had made Pheresa, once she regained consciousness and understood the whole situation, 
reevaluate her opinion of him. Although previously shed deplored his careless indifference, his 
arrogance, his conceit, his occasional cruelty, shed never doubted his intelligence or courage. However, 
since reviving in this ruined palace and finding herself a prisoner, Pheresa had lost all confidence in him. 
At times he looked lost and afraid. Other times he boasted of bold plans to escape, plans which were 
ludicrous and impossible. She believed he had gone mad, and some days as she sat here in this chair, 
unable to move while he paced up and down the battered floor, his once-fine velvet doublet soiled, his 
golden hair uncombed, his dark blue eyes gleaming feverishly, she wondered why she did not go mad as 
well.

 Count Mradviors arrival ended her reverie. He walked up to her, then smiled and gave her a courtly 
bow. Of them all, she found him the least objectionable. Although he was not a kind man, he was at least 
civil. She understood that civility was a form of respect, and was grateful for it, but she never forgot that 
he was her enemy, one of her jailers.

 There was no point in attempting to gain his sympathies.

 Today, he gave her a searching look, frowned, and stepped aside for Master Vlana. Pheresa shifted 
her eyes so that she could watch the count gaze at her tray of untouched food. He wandered away, out 
of her range of sight, but she knew he would go to the opposite end of the room and feel the stove, which 
had grown cold. The deaf-mute had not come this morning, and Pheresa was nearly frozen.

 Bones of Tomias, Mradvior said in annoyance, striding back to them. I can see my breath in here. 
Where is the fire? Where is that wretched half-wit?

 Clucking and mumbling to himself, Vlana stirred up the po-tion in a brass cup and pulled her erect, 
holding her firmly by the back of her skull while he put the cup to her lips.

 She sipped weakly, shuddering at the bitter taste. It was so foul she thought she might spew it back 
up, but it always stayed down, lying queasily in her stomach for a few minutes until its effects spread 
renewed strength through her body.

 When she finished the last swallow, she sighed and let her eyelids close for a moment. It was easier to 
breathe now. When she could curl her stiff fingers in her lap, she opened her eyes.

 Everything looked brighter, more in focus. She could feel her mind sharpen, and she wanted to weep 
for having lost all in her young existence except this tiny fraction of life. She wished now that shed spent 
her days at Savroix more gaily. Instead of hiding in her room and trying to keep both her dignity and 
reputation intact, she wished shed gone to all the dances, flirted in the gardens, and banqueted like a 
glutton. Shed missed so much, and now ... and now ...

 Here, my lady, why do you weep? Mradvior asked, standing by her chair. This is a momentous 
day. Yes, yes, momentous.

 She must have some food, the physician murmured, gesturing at one of his minions. And warmth. 
She is far too cold.

 Pheresa let them fuss over her while she kept her gaze on Mradvior. His dark eyes were snapping with 
excitement, and she did not trust him. 


 Well? he asked her. Will you not question me about the surprise I bring? Are you not curious?

 Well? he asked her. Will you not question me about the surprise I bring? Are you not curious?

 He beamed, apparently satisfied with her answer. Ah, then I will tell you. Look here what I have 
brought.

 As he spoke he snapped his fingers at a page, and the boy brought forward a sword that Pheresa 
recognized with an unpleasant jolt.

 Tanengard! she said in revulsion.

 A good surprise for his highness, eh? Mradvior said, beaming from ear to ear. Ah, yes, I think he 
will be very happy. Where is he?

 Thinking that Gavrils madness would only be intensified by the return of this evil sword, Pheresa gave 
her head a minute shake. Somewhere, exploring.

 Mradvior glanced at the page. Find his highness and bring him here at once. We have little time to 
make him ready.

 For what? Pheresa asked, then hope filled her. Has the ransom come?

 No, Mradvior replied flatly. Today you will amuse the court.

 I dont understand.

 But he didnt explain, for at that moment Gavril came striding in, haughty and defiant. Mradvior! he 
said in displeasure. How dare you summon me like some lackey. I was

 The count held out the sword, and Gavril stopped in mid-sentence. His blue eyes widened, and a smile 
slowly spread across his face.

 Tanengard!

 Clutching the weapon, he spun away and hurried over to the nearest window, where he examined 
every inch of it. As his fingers stroked the blade, he made little cooing sounds in his throat.

 Feeling pity mingled with disgust, Pheresa shifted her gaze back to Mradvior. What do you intend to 
do with us? she asked.

 His broad smile did not reach his dark eyes. You will see. Look at this fine gown I have brought as a 
gift. Also, a lap robe of the softest fur. And here, jewels to make a ladys eyes sparkle.

 As he spoke he tossed the necklace in her lap. She worked her fingers slowly until she was able to 
draw the chain and its bright sapphires into her hand.

 The color was too garish, the weight of the jewels too light.

 She frowned. Colored glass. Fakes!

 But Mradvior had strode over to cajole Gavril and paid her no heed. A group of servants came in. 
Some took Gavril away to don new clothes. The rest surrounded Pheresa. Handling her as though she 
were a life-sized doll, they peeled off her cheap gown and arrayed her in finery of heavy crimson silk. 
Once the color had been richly breathtaking, but it was now sun-faded to a pale coral. Pheresa saw the 
ripped seams that were pinned deftly to look mended. She even saw the bloodstains on the skirt that a 
maid folded out of sight.

 Revulsion shivered through her. Who would save the clothing of a long-dead corpse? These people 
were mad.

 The gown was too large for her, but the servants tucked and pinned it at the back and propped 
Pheresa up in her chair. Jeweled slippers were placed on her pale, slender feet, with rags stuffed into the 
toes to make them fit. The cheap, gaudy necklace was fastened about her throat.

 Gavril returned, beaming in good humor and looking handsome in an old-fashioned tunic of rich green 
and a jaunty fur cap. Swaggering about with Tanengard on his hip, he flicked Pheresas cheek with his 
fingertip while servants positioned a chair for him next to hers.

 Seating himself, Gavril smiled as the servants unrolled a dusty red carpet across the battered floor. A 
dingy piece of needlework in a hoop was placed in Pheresas lap. She glared at it, wishing she could fling 
it across the room.

 His head cocked, Mradvior studied them before ordering the servants to add more props to the 
tableau he was creating. 


 Angered by the indignity of this situation, Pheresa turned her head fractionally to the side. Gavril, she 
said with all the sharpness she possessed, what is this about?

 Angered by the indignity of this situation, Pheresa turned her head fractionally to the side. Gavril, she 
said with all the sharpness she possessed, what is this about?

 She frowned. This isnt a reception. Were

 Ah, look! I hear the first guests arriving. Gavril patted her hand. How pretty you look, my dear. 
That gown is much more becoming than what youve been wearing. As soon as we are wed, you must 
make an effort to keep up with fashions, even set them. Learn to do better, Pheresa. I consider attire 
important.

 She wanted to scream at him, but he wouldnt have understood. The emptiness in his eyes made her 
despair. She had never felt more helpless or alone. With all her heart she wished she could turn back time 
to that night of the Harvest Ball at Savroix, when Dain had humbly offered her his heart. Enslaved to duty 
and responsibilities, shed turned away from him to accept Gavrils offer instead. What a fine bargain 
shed made. Gavril, so arrogant and heartless; Gavril, who hadnt given her a seconds consideration until 
he saw that Dain wanted her; Gavril, who had told her he would marry her provided she kept her place 
and never interfered with his rule. Shed wanted a kingdom. Shed wanted everything but love, and now 
she had nothing but a madman and a nightmare.

 At the door came the babble of voices. Titters of laughter rang out, for the Netheran courtiers had 
arrived. Swathed in furs and dusted with the snow that was falling outside, the queen and her companions 
entered the gallery while Mradvior bowed to them in welcome.

 My queen, lords, and ladies, he said cheerily. For your amusement, I present a tableau ... Behold 
the court of Savroix.

 Little dogs costumed as courtiers came trotting out to surround Pheresa and Gavril. They yapped at 
her, and one of them urinated on the floor. The people laughed.

 Gavril bowed to them grandly. You are hereby made welcome, he proclaimed.

 They laughed again, some applauding. Queen Neaglisa lean, intense woman with black eyes set 
narrowly above a thin, pointed nosegazed around at the tawdry, dirty room in disgust. When her eyes 
fell on Pheresa and Gavril, however, she smiled.

 Dressed in magnificent brown velvet trimmed in lyng fur with tippets of islean, and carrying a matching 
muff over one arm, she walked forward with her ladies in waiting.

 Embarrassment filled Pheresa and she wished she could do something, anything to drive these visitors 
away. Her helpless immobility so enraged her that she prayed to Thod for the ability to hurl this filthy 
piece of needlework at the nearest sneering face. Trapped and humiliated, she was forced to sit there 
while the queen approached her.

 Still smiling with amused contempt, Queen Neaglis stared first at Gavril, then at Pheresa. One of her 
gloved hands made a little gesture, and her ladies in waiting gave mock curtsies to the Mandrian prince 
and his lady.

 Mradvior hovered at her elbow. Your majesty, I present Prince Gavril of Mandria. 
Gavril stood up and bowed to the queen. I am honored, your majesty. May I present my intended 
bride, Lady Pheresa du Lindier. 
The queens dark eyes were very cold. Stripping off her gloves and giving them to a companion to 
hold, she glanced at Mradvior. Quite amusing, my lord. 
He smiled back in gratification. Thank you. Twas but a simple idea to while away a dreary 
afternoon. Yes, yes, a simple idea. 
Giggling, the queens ladies swarmed about Pheresa, touching her hair and fingering her fake jewels. 

Lord Mradvior! they called out. Is it true she cannot move?

 Very true, he replied.

 A queer, tingling sensation swept over Pheresa. For an instant she felt peculiar, in a way she could not 
describe. The room, the staring people, all seemed to fade for a moment. She heard something, a murmur 


like song or voices. Her gaze shifted up toward the globes of kings glass, but it was not their song she 
heard.

like song or voices. Her gaze shifted up toward the globes of kings glass, but it was not their song she 
heard.

 And then another face appeared next to the first one. Pheresa recognized Dain as clearly as though he 
were actually in the room. She grew faint, her temples pounding, and momentarily forgot how to breathe. 
Before she could cry out to him, the vision faded away. She went on staring upward, hoping he would 
reappear, but he did not. Tears welled in her eyes.

 Dain, she thought, aching to be rescued. Where was he now? Why had he left? Gavril had said Dains 
selfishness and impatience drove him away, but she did not believe Dain had willingly abandoned her, not 
after his promises to see her healed.

 Unlike Gavril, Dain was no liar. She supposed that Gavril had driven him away. 
Yet just now, shed seen him. Was he searching for her? Was this vision some kind of message he 
was sending to her? A message of hope? A message to hang on? 
If only Dain would come. 
Or perhaps she was only hallucinating, going slowly mad in her despair. Sometimes Master Vlanas 
potions were too strong and played tricks on her mind. 
How queer and demented she looks, one of the ladies in waiting remarked. Perhaps they are both 
insane. 
Emboldened by Pheresas silence, one of the women pulled her hair in a series of sharp tugs. The 

other one pushed her sideways in her chair, then pulled her upright again.

 The queen laughed at these antics and reached out to pinch her quite hard.

 It took every ounce of willpower Pheresa possessed not to wince or show the slightest flicker of pain. 
Nor was there any use in hoping Gavril would defend her. Oblivious to what the queen and her ladies 
were doing, or to how the other courtiers stared and pointed at him with snickers, Gavril had wandered 
off, caressing the hilt of Tanengard and mumbling to himself.

 There had been a time, when they first embarked on the journey to Grov, when Gavril would have 
leaped to her defense. Hed been afire with zeal to save her. Shed delighted in his kindness, his brief 
visits, his apparent worry on her behalf. Like a fool, shed told herself this illness was worthwhile if it 
made him love her.

 But in truth she had no lover here, no defender, no champion. Gavrilalways concerned most with 
himselfhad stood over her encasement one night when she was suffering from fever and, thinking her 
unconscious, had sneered at her, revealing his true feelings of disgust and impatience. Hed spewed out 
how tired he was of caring for her. He could have gone home had it not been for her. He could have 
turned his armed forces against Klad and conquered it if not for her. He could have been out searching 
for with Dain if not for her. She was a burden to him, and he wished hed never offered her marriage. He 
wished she would die.

 And now hed gone mad; whether his wits could be restored she did not know. She hardly cared. At 
present he was of no use to her at all.

 But if he chose to wander in his mind and thus evade the indignities heaped on them by their captors, 
Pheresa had no intention of doing the same. Seeing Dain again, even if it had been her own imagination at 
work, renewed her spirits. She believed that Dain, had he been imprisoned here, would have found a 
way to defy his tormentors. Well, then, why should she do less?

 Her fingers moved slowly across the needlework in her lap, and pulled out the rusted needle that had 
been left in the stained cloth. Gripping the needle between thumb and forefinger, Pheresa managed to 
quirk her lips in a small, brief smile.

 Will your majesty take my hand and warm my fingers? she asked sweetly.

 The ladies in waiting giggled, and othershearing Pheresa speak to their queenclustered around.

 She can talk, a man said in amazement. Did you hear her speak Netheran?

 I didnt know she could talk, a woman said. How is this so, count? 


 Ignoring the comments, Pheresa kept her gaze on Queen Neaglis. The womans cruel eyes made her 
shiver, but Pheresa did not back down. Please, your majesty, she said softly. Take my hand. Let a 
Netheran queen feel the clasp of one who will now never rule Mandria.

 Ignoring the comments, Pheresa kept her gaze on Queen Neaglis. The womans cruel eyes made her 
shiver, but Pheresa did not back down. Please, your majesty, she said softly. Take my hand. Let a 
Netheran queen feel the clasp of one who will now never rule Mandria.

 The queen, urged on by her companions, smirked and reached down to curl her perfumed hand 
around Pheresas. Swiftly, with all the scant strength she possessed, Pheresa stabbed the needle in 
Neagliss finger hard enough to draw blood.

 The queen jerked back with a scream, and tiny drops of blood splattered on the floor while the 
costumed dogs yapped and milled around.

 Get out! Pheresa said, her soft voice vehement with rage. You Netheran swine have betrayed us, 
but you will not make us into puppets to play with. Get out!

 With her black eyes narrowed in rage, Queen Neaglis slapped Pheresa hard, knocking her from her 
chair. Pheresa could not catch her fall. Her head thudded on the floor so hard the world swam dizzily 
about her. In a haze she heard the queen screaming, then a jeweled slipper trod on Pheresas hand, 
bringing sharp pain.

 Mandrian cow! the queen choked out. Your defiance will cost you dearly.

 Pheresa could not pull away, and the queens foot grated on the delicate bones in her hand. Clamping 
her lips shut, Pheresa refused to cry out in pain.

 Mradvior, you fool! Neaglis was shouting. She has attacked my royal person. She should die for it. 
Your sword, man! Your sword!

 But the king

 Must I run her through myself? Where are my guards? Theyll take care of her.

 Your majesty, please! Mradvior was saying in a horrified voice. I never dreamed she could do 
anything to harm you. Some idiot servant put the needlework in her lap. I assure your majesty that we did 
not

 Stop babbling and kill her. I command it!

 Pheresa shut her eyes. Yes, death, she thought with longing. Anything to escape this horrible place.

 The king, majesty, Mradvior protested, has ordered me to keep her alive. I regret

 You spineless fool! She has insulted me, and I want her death!

 Let me punish her, majesty. There are ways to make her suffer.

 Then punish her hard, my lord, the queen said ruthlessly, taking her foot off Pheresas hand at last. 
Punish her very hard. For if you are merciful, I shall see that you are slaughtered in her place. 
Furiously the queen swept out with her courtiers while Mradvior bobbed in their wake, still 
apologizing. 
Pheresa, Gavril said, wandering back from the window, why are you lying on the floor? Tis most 
unseemly behavior in one of your station. Really, must you act like a peasant? 
Lying there, Pheresa did not even attempt to reply. How long, she wondered in despair, was she to go 
on enduring this? And she wept.

 With a little gasp of exhaustion, Alexeika tipped the bowl of god-steel in her lap and poured out the 
water it held. The misty vapor that had formed above the waters surface shimmered a moment in the 
cold night air and vanished. Weariness pressed all the way to Alexeikas bones. She realized with 
surprise that shed parted the veils of seeing as Dain had asked her to, and that the results shed feared 
had not come to pass.

 Indeed, it had gone well. For the first time in her attempts to use her gifts, shed been able to focus her 
mind correctly. Shed felt the power center itself inside her body, then radiate forth to do her bidding. 
The vision shed sought had come.

 But right now, she felt too exhausted to take the slightest amount of satisfaction in a job well done. 
Around her, the Field of Skulls spread out, the ancient bones gleaming pale white under the moonlight. 
Old magic crisscrossed the ground and quivered in the air. If she sat very still, she seemed to hear muted 
whispers and moanings, battle cries and death cries, the clang of steel and the clash of shields. There was 


an unsettled aspect to the place that prickled uneasiness through her. Yet never had she been more in 

an unsettled aspect to the place that prickled uneasiness through her. Yet never had she been more in 

 Faldains hand gripped her shoulder without warning, and she jumped violently.

 I saw her, he said excitedly, ignoring Alexeikas reaction. There at the last, I saw her. II think she 
saw me.

 Alexeikas heart burned with misery, but she forced herself to look up. She even fought off the 
temptation to lie. Yes, you saw her, she said in a dull, tired voice. Youve been wrong to think her 
dead.

 Aye, he said, sounding amazed. In the moonlight she could see him quite clearly. A lock of his black 
hair fell in his eyes, and he brushed it back impatiently. Pheresa is alive. Alive, by Thod!

 Not only alive, but well, Alexeika forced herself to say. She might as well tell the truth about 
everything she saw. Her father had not raised her to lie. Your fair lady is well enough to be sitting in a 
pale red gown, with a necklace of sapphires around her throat, and her hair combed into a simple knot at 
the back of her neck. Shes beautiful.

 He nodded, drinking in the details, although hed seen them for himself. Aye, she is.

 I saw people coming up to her, the Netheran court perhaps. Queen Neaglis spoke to her.

 Faldain grinned. To think Pheresa is at Grov, being paid deference at Muncels court. I am amazed 
by the miracle of it. My suppositions have all been wrong.

 Huddled in her cloak, Alexeika felt a hundred years old. Her heart ached, yet she was so tired she no 
longer cared.

 Rejoice in her good fortune, sire, she said. The Chief Believer told you lies.

 The Netherans must have given her a cure, he said, and laughed. Oh, Alexeika, well done! This 
more than makes up for my having failed to summon Tobeszijian.

 She stood up, but she could not smile in return. And now your way is clear. Tomorrow youll ride to 
get and

 Nay! he said in good humor, gripping her hand and squeezing hard. She has no need of a cure. 
Though not safe in my uncles hands, she is well at present. And what of the prince?

 I saw no one else in the vision, Alexeika said.

 Faldain grunted. I fear Muncels trickery against her and Gavril, yet I will not be held back. At first 
light, we ride for the border. Ive already sent a messenger, one of Cardos nephews, off to find General 
Matkevskiet. If we can rendezvous quickly with the Agya warriors, there will be time perhaps to prepare 
for battle.

 Alexeika blinked, not certain shed heard aright. Battle?

 Aye, tis what youve been arguing for. If I can assemble an army in time, Id like to strike Grov on 
Selwinmas. Let Mun-cel choke on my sword for his celebratory feast!

 But

 He gripped her shoulder, forcing her to move. Well, come on! Weve done all we can here. Let us 
get what rest we can before daybreak.

 Alexeika had the uneasy feeling that Faldain was rushing ahead too heedlessly and that there was 
something hed overlooked, but she was too tired to think of what it might be. What of ? she asked 
again. It will wait.

 She stared at him, seeing the battle light in his eyes, and wondered if this place was not somehow 
affecting him. But you said should be returned to Nether first, before you sought your throne.

 And you argued the opposite just a day ago, he countered. Whats come over you, Alexeika? 
Where is my warrior-maiden?

 Unsure how to answer him, she asked another question instead. And if Thum cannot ride?

 Hes better. I checked on him not two hours past, Faldain said blithely. She had never before seen 
him in such high spirits. The dwarves have tended him well. Hell ride, all right.

 Well, what of

 Oh, hush, he said. Let us go!

 He strode away briskly. Alexeika picked her way after him much more slowly. Treading over the 


bones unnerved her, for she felt as though she was desecrating them. She couldnt help but think of that 
mountain valley up near the Worlds Rim where her fathers bones lay unburied in the winter grass.

bones unnerved her, for she felt as though she was desecrating them. She couldnt help but think of that 
mountain valley up near the Worlds Rim where her fathers bones lay unburied in the winter grass.

 But, alas, the maiden was beautiful indeed, even with her slender face drawn from illness. Graceful and 
completely feminine, her reddish-gold hair bright about her face, Pheresa was everything Alexeika would 
never be.

 Tripping over a skull, which went rolling away from her foot with a clatter, Alexeika faced the fact that 
shed lost her only chance of winning his heart.

 Oh, if only the vision had shown Pheresa dead instead of alive and well.

 But as soon as she thought that, Alexeika felt ashamed of herself. If he wanted Pheresa, then he would 
have Pheresa. Alexeika vowed to wish no more harm against the lady.

 Her heart ached, and she felt eaten alive inside.

 She thought of victory in Grov and how Pheresa would have his love. His eyes would go to her first, 
before any other. His voice would soften for her alone. His hand would take her slender one and hold it. 
His embrace would hold her safe.

 Alexeikas tears burned past her control. When she reached the edge of the Field of Skulls, she 
ducked into the pine forest and halted, gripping a fragrant, low-hanging bough to hold herself up. Faldain 
strode on ahead of her, heedless that shed fallen so far behind. She wished he would at least glance 
back. Dear Thod, husband ofRiva, she prayed, please let him see me as a woman just once. Just 
once.

 She sank to her knees in the pine needles, wrapped her arms tightly about herself, and wept.

 Three mornings later, Dain waited impatiently outside Alexeikas tent, stamping his feet against the 
cold and hugging himself beneath his cloak. He did not understand what was taking her so long. Usually 
she was up and going at daybreak. But while theyd been staying here in the dwarf camp, shed acted 
subdued and unlike herself. Perhaps she was simply very tired from all the ordeals theyd endured. Still, 
they were rested now and well-fed, thanks to the generous hospitality of the dwarves. At times Dain 
couldnt help but compare the dwarves treat-ment of them to that of the eldin, his actual kinfolk. Of 
course, the kindness was due to Dains guardian Jorb having been Cardos cousin. Last night, round the 
fire, Dain and the clan leader had talked late.

 War is a bad thing, Cardo had said solemnly. Because of clan war, Jorbs artistry has been forever 
lost.

 Dain frowned at the crackling fire, turning over old memories of grief and hatred. He remembered the 
day when hed led Lord Odfreys men against the dwarves whod killed Jorb and Thia. Revenge had 
been exacted that day, but it did not bring his family back.

 He sighed. Sometimes war is necessary, whether we want it or not.

 Cardo nodded. His gray beard hung down his chest, marking his great age. All the news of late is war 
talk. Man-war. Mandria has taken arms, it is said.

 Against Nether?

 Cardo shrugged. Oth be thanked, not against Nold.

 Troubled, Dain squinted at the crackling fire. He knew Mun-cel had taken Gavril and Pheresa hostage 
before handing over their church soldiers and priests to Gant. Small wonder even a man as peace-loving 
as King Verence had been provoked to war.

 Of course, Verences ire was all to Dains advantage. Perhaps he would be able to join forces with 
the Mandrian king against Muncel.

 It was time to fight, Dain told himself with resolve. Ever since the night hed walked the Field of Skulls, 
hed felt a growing sense of urgency. The only reason he was not already on his road was Thum, whod 
needed more time for mending than Dain had anticipated. He would not leave his friend behind.

 Aye, war, Cardo repeated gloomily, sipping from his cup. His square face, leathered and wrinkled 


like a piece of dried-out wood, was thrown partially into shadow by the firelight. I hear the rebels are 
rising again in Nether. Sanfors family have talked of nothing but that since they first arrived for this 
gathering. Theyve been delivering goods to Count Votnikts hold for years, but this time there were 
kings soldiers crawling everywhere, ready to think Sanfor a spy for the rebels. Dain half-smiled. Isnt 
he?

like a piece of dried-out wood, was thrown partially into shadow by the firelight. I hear the rebels are 
rising again in Nether. Sanfors family have talked of nothing but that since they first arrived for this 
gathering. Theyve been delivering goods to Count Votnikts hold for years, but this time there were 
kings soldiers crawling everywhere, ready to think Sanfor a spy for the rebels. Dain half-smiled. Isnt 
he?

  Tis late in the year for armies to march, Dain remarked.

 Its fight or let Gant rule us all, Cardo said. I will share a secret with you, because once you were 
Jorbs boy. This week, the clan elders have discussed uniting all the dwarf clans together to keep Nold 
strong against Gant. We fear those devils will turn against us too. Our sages warn us of terrible trouble in 
the future.

 Take heed of such warnings, Dain said, his voice low and serious. The Chief Believer means to 
consume every kingdom he can. He would have used me for the purpose, had I not escaped.

 The gods were kind to you.

 Aye, Dain said worriedly, but I fear that in my flight, I have provoked the Gantese into full-scale 
war.

 Cardo shrugged. If there must be war, then let it be fought with hearts brave and true. And let it be 
fought hard and fierce, with no holding back.

 Aye, Dain agreed with a nod. No holding back.

 Now he stood outside Alexeikas tent in the crisp morning air, blowing on his hands to keep them 
warm, and wished she would hurry. There was much to be done before they could leave. He was 
anxious to get at it.

 Maug, the yellow-eyed dwarf whod first brought Alexeika and Thum here from the river, came by 
with a bundle on his shoulder. He squinted up at Dain. You will not wait one more day and share the 
final ceremonies? he asked in his gruff way.

 Dain shook his head. I respect them, but they are not for me.

 Maug grunted in satisfaction. You understand our ways well.

 Have you brought it? Dain asked.

 Maug shifted the bundle off his shoulder and held it in his arms as though it was heavy. All here. My 
brother thanks you for the purchase, but he says the sizing

 Never mind that, Dain broke in impatiently. He handed Maug the gold pieces theyd agreed on 
earlier in sharp bargaining, and shook the tent flap. Alexeika, come! Hurry!

 The flap twitched aside, and she stepped out. Garbed in her red mail hauberk, she wore her hair 
braided for battle. From head to toe, she was clean and polished. Even the tears in her cloak had been 
mended, and Dain could smell the honing oil shed used on her sword and daggers. Hed seen her 
yesterday bargaining for whetstone and oil from one of the swordmak-ers. Apparently shed been able to 
strike a deal, and she must have been up half the night taking care of her gear. The dark smudges beneath 
her stormy eyes confirmed his guess.

 With a smile of greeting, Dain gestured for her to take the bundle from Maug. When she did so, she 
looked startled by its weight.

 Too heavy? Dain asked.

 At once her head snapped up, and her mouth tightened with determination. Nay, sire.

 Amused, he let her shoulder the burden and led her across the camp to one of the forges. The sun had 
not yet risen above the treetops. Light filtered into the clearing in lateral beams, dancing golden among the 
pines. The air was very cold and still, with scents of the forest overlaying the smells of the camp.

 Old memories of dwarf mead, of burrows fragrant with soil, moss, and live wood filled Dains mind. 
His childhood had been secure and happy, busy with chores, and always marked by the steady plinking 
of Jorbs hammer in the background.

 Stopping at one of the portable forges now, its fire still banked in ashes, and the anvil cold and idle at 
present, Dain glanced back at Alexeika as she trudged up beside him. She was puffing a little with 


exertion, her breath misting white. Puzzlement filled her eyes, but Dain only smiled and swung around to 

exertion, her breath misting white. Puzzlement filled her eyes, but Dain only smiled and swung around to 

 A well morn to you, he said cheerfully.

 This dwarf looked secretive and unfriendly, the way many of the armorers were. Dwelling too much 
with fire and metal, they sometimes lost the ease of dealing with other folk.

 You pay, he said sharply.

 You hand over the goods, Dain replied with equal sharpness.

 Distrust puckered the dwarfs bearded face. Show me your coin.

 Dain fished out his last gold dreit and held it up in his fingers so that it glinted in the rosy sunlight.

 Greed filled the dwarfs eyes. He produced the sword he had wrapped up in an old cloth, then shook 
open the folds to reveal a splendid weapon with a hilt wrapped in silver wire and beautiful carvings down 
the scabbard.

 Behind Dain, Alexeika gasped. How beautiful. Scowling at her, the dwarf wrapped the sword up 
hastily as though fearful she would grab it. Clutching it tightly, he handed over a smaller bundle to Dain.

 Dain glanced inside, nodded, and tucked it into his pocket. Then he held out the coin. The armorer 
held out the sword. They exchanged goods and money at the same time, then stepped back from each 
other.

 The dwarf bit the coin and examined it with a grunt of satisfaction before hurrying away.

 What is all this? Alexeika asked. Have you need of another sword?

 At present, aye, Dain replied, and grinned at her, refusing to say more. Come.

 They went to the far edge of camp, stirring now as folk roused themselves and began to light fires 
under the cooking pots. Located well away from the dwarves ponies and cross-tethered inside a flimsy 
pen of wattle, the darsteed snorted at their approach, watching them with its fierce red eyes. Its mind 
reached out to Dains: Food/food/food/food! He took a half-frozen, unskinned hare from a pouch 
hanging in a nearby tree and tossed it at the darsteed. One lunging snap and the hare vanished down the 
darsteeds throat. Immediately the beast trained its fierce gaze on Dain again.

 Dain laid aside the wrapped sword hed just purchased and tossed another hare. Although hampered 
by its tethers, the darsteed managed to catch it. One gulp, and it was gone. Its showing better 
appetite, Alexeika said.

 Dain nodded as he busily eyed the darsteed for other signs of improving health. No flames as yet 
burned in its nostrils, but the patches of missing hide which had peeled off after its immersion in water had 
scabbed over and were already healing. Stamping and lashing its barbed tail, the darsteed tugged 
impatiently at its tethers.

 Aye, itll do, he said in approval. Another day and this flimsy pen wont hold it. Time to travel.

 Can it carry the three of us again? she asked.

 Nay. I wont ask that of it.

 Then

 A halloo from the forest caught Dains attention as Thum and two dwarf children emerged from the 
trees. The boys were leading two shaggy ponies, and Thum limped ahead of them. He looked gaunt and 
pale, but his hazel-green eyes were bright with eagerness.

 The darsteed turned its attention on the ponies, who abruptly balked, refusing to come closer. One of 
them began backing up, nearly dragging the bandy-legged child who held grimly to its rope shouting 
dwarf curses at it.

 I pray to Thod these brutes dont run off again, Thum said, puffing heavily as he limped up to Dain. 
Good morn, sire. I ask your pardon for not being ready, but they bolted the moment they saw our 
monster. Would you please thank these young sprouts for helping me get them back?

 Dain smiled at the children. Dont try to force the ponies closer, he said in rapid dwarf. Theyre too 
frightened. It will take them time to grow used to the darsteed.

 The larger of the two lads clamped his arm over the neck of his pony and stared at Dain with open 
curiosity. It wants to eat them.

 Aye. 


 You wont let it?

 You wont let it?

 On dwarf honor or Netheran honor?

 Hearing the childs mistrust, Dain walked over to him. On dwarf honor, by ash and salt, I do swear. 
He spat in his hand and held it out. 
Looking impressed, the boy spat on his own hand and gripped Dains hard. I accept your oath, King 
Faldain. 
Good. Now tie the ponies securely over there where they can get used to the darsteeds scent but 
not feel too threatened. Have you boys any duties to perform this morning? 
The boys looked at each other. Square-headed with wide-set eyes, they were clearly related. One 
nodded, but the other shook his head and dug his elbow sharply into his brothers ribs. 
Speak truly now, Dain said sternly. 
The sulky one answered him: I wanted to help with the blood oaths to Vannor, but, nay, were 

assigned to light Element candles for the weddings. Pah!

 Will you witness a ceremony here? A Mandrian ceremony? Dain asked.  Twill not take long.

 Oh, aye! they chorused.

 Good. He pointed. Stand over there.

 Sire? Alexeika said quietly. Shed shifted the coarse lin-sey sack off her shoulder to the ground. 
The sun is climbing. I thought you meant to take the road by now.

 I did, Dain replied, squinting at the angle of sunlight and selecting a spot to stand. But this has 
importance too.

 I have our provisions packed in the saddlebags, Thum said. All we need is to fill waterskins and

 Aye, Thum. Over here to me.

 Thum obediently limped up. His dark red hair had grown shaggy of late, and his beard needed 
trimming as well. Hed managed to procure a new cloak for himself, but it was too short for his lanky 
height. The knees of his leggings were patched and stained, and he was clearly starting to outgrow them. 
Dain had never seen him look so ragged, but his friend was still the capable, industrious, hardworking 
loyal companion hed always been. Still a thinker more than a warrior, but with a brave heart all the 
same.

 Dain glanced at Alexeika. Would you come here? Nay, leave the bundle where it is.

 Looking as puzzled and impatient as Thum, she obeyed.

 Dain pointed at Thum. Help him to kneel without hurting that leg.

 A look of stunned comprehension flashed across Thums face, and he turned white. Although his 
mouth fell open, and his throat apple jerked up and down, he said nothing. 
Though delighted by his reaction, Dain remained outwardly stern. While Thum shakily knelt, Dain 
drew Truthseeker and held it aloft in the sunlight. 
Alexeikas blue-gray eyes were alight now with approval. Glancing at where the new sword lay in its 
wrappings, she smiled.

 Thum du Maltie, Dain said, speaking Mandrian, and wishing he could have done this before the 
entire company of Thirst knights, before an entire army, with heralds and trumpets to make fanfare, I do 
now call forth the announcement that you are a courageous and worthy man, valiant and true.

 Kneeling before him, Thum gulped again. His eyes were shining like stars.

 You have shown prowess with arms, faithfulness to your oaths and duties, and courage in the face of 
danger. I, Faldain, Chevard of Thirst and rightful, though uncrowned, King of Nether, do hereby knight 
you.

 As he spoke, he touched Thum on either shoulder with the flat of Truthseekers blade. Thum bowed 
his head, praying beneath his breath. When he finished, Dain extended the hilt of Truthseeker to him, and 
Thum kissed it reverently. No longer did he seem afraid of the weapon, as once hed been. Hed seen 
enough in Gant to make him understand the difference between rightful magic and wrong.

 Arise, Sir Thum, Dain said, beaming at him, and count yourself a warrior.

 A grin flashed across Thums face, but it vanished just as quickly. He remained kneeling. I, Sir Thum 


du Maltie, do hereby give my oath of fealty to Faldain of Nether, he said in an unsteady voice. I vow to 
devote myself and my arm to seeing your majesty rightfully crowned.

du Maltie, do hereby give my oath of fealty to Faldain of Nether, he said in an unsteady voice. I vow to 
devote myself and my arm to seeing your majesty rightfully crowned.

 Then Thum took a step back, blinking as though he could still not believe all that had happened.

 Dain sheathed Truthseeker and reached into his pocket to pull forth a set of spurs, silver and 
well-wrought. It is customary for a new knight to receive gifts, either from his father or friends. Here is 
my gift, as one former foster of Thirst to another.

 Thum took the spurs with obvious delight. Dain, II mean, your grace, I

 And as your chevard, Dain continued, striding over to the sack that Alexeika had carried, I am 
obligated to outfit you properly.

 He pulled out a hauberk of shining new mail and held it up so the sunlight glinted off the metal links.

 Thum limped forward. Great Thod above, he said in astonishment. How did you get such a fine

 It should have been fitted to you, but perhaps in the future you can acquire custom-made armor. In 
the meantime, Dain told him, never again will you be expected to join combat without proper 
protection. I would not have seen you wounded so grievously for the world, my friend.

 Thum took the hauberk and held it up against his chest. Alexeika came over and helped him check the 
length of the sleeves against his arms. A bit short, but twill do, she announced, smiling. My 
congratulations on this honor done you, Sir Thum. Tis well-deserved.

 Thank you, he said, looking stunned. But II didnt even help with the escape from Gant. More 
like I was a burden

 A true friend is never a burden, Dain said fiercely. Never.

 You were worthy of being knighted long ere we were taken to

 Gant.

 Thum kept stroking the hauberk, and even laughed. Now I suppose this is something else for me to 
polish.

 Aye, youve no squire to do for you, Dain said merrily. For that matter, nor do I. We shall have to 
do our polishing together, provided we can persuade Alexeika to share her hon-. ing oil.

 Alexeika blushed.

 Well, Thum said, grinning as he went back to examining his gifts. Well!

 It is a Netheran custom, Dain said now, for the king to bestow his notice on a knight in particular 

favor. I wear no crown, Sir Thum, but I would keep that custom. 
Thum stared at him, and Dain picked up the sword hed bought. Leaving it wrapped, he handed it to 
Thum. 
Nay, Thum said, sounding overwhelmed. What is this? He draped his hauberk over his arm, 
unwrapped the sword, and held it by its carved scabbard with hands that trembled visibly. 
Draw it, Dain said quietly. See if its balance fits you. The dwarf who made the weapon can adjust it 
if necessary, or fit you to another.

 Thum bowed his head, busily blinking back the moisture that shimmered in his eyes. Collecting himself, 
he fitted his hand around the hilt and slowly drew the blade, which flashed in the sunlight as only virgin 
steel can.

  Tis plain, Dain said, but worthy of your rank. Better than that dull piece you used to wear on your 
belt.

 Without being told, Alexeika unbuckled his belt and threaded it through the scabbard straps, then knelt 
and fitted the spurs onto his boots.

 Put on your hauberk, Sir Thum, Dain said.

 Thums eyes were shining. I have done nothing to deserve such high honor. No valiant act have I 
performed, no shining bravery have I shown.

 Nonsense, Dain said gruffly. You have been my most loyal friend. You have served me well, better 
than I deserved. Tis I who must ask your pardon yet again for having taken you into battle as a squire, 
with no armor and no 


 My pardon is given freely, Thum told him. Think of it never again. I would fight for you again 
without armor or sword, if necessary. I just regret that I could not serve you while we were in Gant.

 My pardon is given freely, Thum told him. Think of it never again. I would fight for you again 
without armor or sword, if necessary. I just regret that I could not serve you while we were in Gant.

 Thums laughter rang out.

 A female dwarf came hurrying up, a look of exasperation on her face, and began to scold the boys, 
whod been watching solemnly all this time.

 Dain had forgotten about them, but now he turned and hurried over to intervene. They are here by my 
request, he said to her in dwarf. I bade them wait.

 They have sacred duties this day, she said impatiently. This is no time for them to fall idle.

 But they are witnesses to the knighting of this man, he explained. Let them bide here a few minutes 
more. I shall not keep them long.

 Our ceremonies

 I know. I honor and respect your ceremonies. Please honor and respect mine. I shall release them 
shortly.

 She frowned, looking indecisive, and glared at her sons. Well, then, see that they hurry. You are a 
guest here, and welcome, but you must not interfere with us. My word is given, Dain told her.

 As soon as she left, he nudged the boys forward to Sir Thum, who now had donned his hauberk 
gingerly over his wounded shoulder. It was short in the sleeves and too loose in the girth, but once his 
sword belt was buckled, he looked well enough. The pride shining in his face rivaled the sun, and Dain 
could not have been more pleased with the outcome of his surprise. The dwarf boys, encouraged by his 
wink and nod, stepped up to Thum and in unison intoned, Steel and brass. Brass and steel. May your 
sword hold strong. May no arrow pierce your armor. Let the breath of the war gods Fim and Rod 
protect you in battle.

 Sir Thum listened to this benediction with bewilderment. When they were finished, he glanced at Dain. 
What did they say?

 Dain translated. Its an ancient dwarf blessing for warriors. The same blessings have been said over 
your sword and mail as they were made.

 Oh. Gripping the hilt of his new sword, Sir Thum turned to the boys and bowed with his best courtly 
flourish.

 Grinning, they retreated and looked at Dain. Now do we go?

 Not just yet, he said in dwarf, and turned around. Alex-eika.

 She was still eying the fit of Thums hauberk with a critical eye, but at the sound of her name she 
glanced up and gave Dain a quick nod. Aye, sire. If youre ready to depart, Ill get the ponies.

 Nay, he said before she could stride away. As usual she was still trying to anticipate him, and half the 
time getting things wrong. Theres something else to do first.

 She frowned. No disrespect to Sir Thum, but the day is getting on.

 Alexeika, come here, Dain said.

 She hesitated, then obeyed him. She was still frowning and would not meet his eyes. Hed sensed 
disquiet in her for days, but whatever was troubling her would have to wait.

 I will not let you ride forth in that red armor, he said. Take it off.

 Her eyes widened and an angry flush crept up her cheeks. Sire?

 You heard me. Take it off.

 But

 It nearly got you killed by the dwarf patrol at the river, he reminded her. Maug told me how he first 
mistook you for a Believer. You cannot continue wearing it. What if the next time a Mandrian knight on 
patrol puts an arrow into you and asks questions later, or dwarves attack, or the Netherans

 Your majesty makes his point, she said with acerbity. But tis my war trophy.

 Then put it in a saddlebag and use it to adorn the walls of your ancestral hold. But wear it no longer.

 She scowled, stubbornly defying him. Dain swallowed a sigh. In truth, she was about as easy to handle 


as the darsteed.

as the darsteed.

 Her voice was rough with appeal, and now even Sir Thum was frowning at Dain. Sire, he said, 
would you

 Dain shot him a look that silenced him, then glared at Alexeika until the red in her face intensified.

 She pulled off her cloak and jerked at the lacings of her gorget and hauberk. Thum started to help her, 
but Dain gave him a quick head shake and he backed off.

 Alexeika flung the red mail on the ground and stood there in her tunic, her eyes flashing defiance.

 Involuntary admiration touched Dain, and he could not help but smile at her temper. Better, he said. 
Now kneel before me.

 Her eyes flared wide, and in an instant all the color drained from her face. No, she whispered.

 My lady, you seem determined to defy your king today at every opportunity, Dain said harshly.

 Tears swam in her eyes. She dropped to her knees and bowed her head.

 A warrior you are already, Dain said, drawing Truthseeker once more while Sir Thum and the dwarf 
boys looked on in awe. Dain noticed that a few other dwarves had come up to stand in a curious cluster. 
Your valor is proven in combat.

 She shook her head. I am unworthy of honor, sire, she whispered.

 He frowned, unsure why shed become so feminine and moody of late. But he wasnt going to be 
thwarted. Let your king determine that, he said in rebuke, wishing she would learn to be silent. Now, I 
do grant and bestow knighthood on this lady, Princess Alexeika Volvn, a true and worthy servant of her 
king.

 He touched her shoulders with the flat of Truthseekers blade, then extended the hilt to her as he had 
done with Thum.

 She knelt there a moment as though she would refuse.

 Exasperation filled Dain. He did not understand her at all. Alexeika, he said sharply.

 When she tipped back her head to look at him, tear tracks shone on her cheeks. A maiden cannot be 
a knight, she whispered.

 She can if I make her so.

 More tears spilled from her eyes. He frowned, wondering what was wrong. Hed believed this would 
please her.

 Struggling to explain, he said, II thought this would honor you. Us a fitting tribute to your father as 
well. You are indeed a worthy and courageous heir to his name and sword.

 Many emotions filled her eyes. In silence she kissed the hilt of Truthseeker, then drew Severgard. Its 
huge sapphire gleamed in the sunlight as she held it aloft by sword tip and hilt, balanced thus on her 
fingertips. This great sword was pledged to the faithful service of King Tobeszijian and to his father 
before him, she said gruffly. Now do I pledge it anew to the service of Faldain, son of Tobeszijian.

 She proffered it to Dain, and he touched it lightly. The black blade flashed with dazzling brilliance, 
radiating a white light.

 Dain felt the tingle of its energy pass through his fingers, and in that moment he absorbed a hint of the 
weapons incredible magic, a magic vastly different from Truthseekers power. Then Severgards 
radiance vanished, and it looked like an ordinary sword once more.

 He stepped back, clenching his tingling hand. Rise, Sir He halted and laughed a bit 
self-consciously. Forgive me. This is a time when a herald would be invaluable. By what title shall I call 
youT

 She said nothing, busying herself instead with sheathing Severgard as she rose to her feet.

 He glanced at Sir Thum, whose eyebrows were still high.

 Um, er, well, Sir Thum said, blinking rapidly. To my knowledge there has never been a lady 
knighted before. At least not in MandriaI know not the history of Nether. But would she not use her 
higher title? After all, sire, you are a knight, but it is your highest rank that

 Ah, Dain said, feeling foolish for not having worked this out for himself. Of course. Thank you. 


Come, princess, and accept this gift. 
She looked startled and tense, like a doe ready to leap out of sight into a forest thicket. But I 
Hed already pulled the second set of spurs from his pocket and was holding them out. Fellow 
comrades were we in the desert, he said with a smile. Accept these with my wishes of friendship. 
She went to him and took them shyly, but her eyes would not meet his. I thank your majesty, she 

Come, princess, and accept this gift. 
She looked startled and tense, like a doe ready to leap out of sight into a forest thicket. But I 
Hed already pulled the second set of spurs from his pocket and was holding them out. Fellow 
comrades were we in the desert, he said with a smile. Accept these with my wishes of friendship. 
She went to him and took them shyly, but her eyes would not meet his. I thank your majesty, she 

 And as custom dictates-

 Her eyes snapped up to his. But I have a sword already!

 He had to laugh ruefully. Ah, Alexeika, my lady, you indeed will never change. Sir Thum?

 His friend had already guessed his intentions and was pulling a second hauberk from the sack. Its 
brass links gleamed in the sun, and Alexeika gasped with her first genuine smile of the day.

 She ran to take it from Thums hands, then spun around to face Dain with a new frown. And you 
made me carry my own gift across the camp? You

 Dain laughed, and after a moment so did she.

 Forgive me a small joke, he said. Let us see if it fits you.

 He and Thum started to hold it up against her, but she looked suddenly shy and retreated from them.

 Gripping Severgard, she ran out of sight into the trees, and was gone a very long time indeed.

 Dain glanced at his friend, who was preening and examining his sleeves with a very satisfied smirk. 
What is taking her so long? Do you suppose it doesnt fit? What is she doing?

 Crying, Sir Thum replied.

 Dain was startled. Crying? Again? But why?

 Sir Thum shrugged. Who knows? My sisters do it at the strangest times.

 But I dont understand her, Dain said, genuinely puzzled. All the time we were prisoners, she never 
faltered. We crossed the desert, starving for water and food, and she was stalwart the whole time. Not a 
complaint. Never a flinch from anything we faced. But ever since we came here, shes been so odd. Why 
should she cry now?

 Women cry sometimes because they are happy.

 I know that, Dain said impatiently. But she isnt happy.

 Does your majesty want my advice?

 Of course!

 Leave her be.

 But

 Leave her be, sire. I vow that soon enough shell be her-self again. The less you fuss over her, the 
quicker shell be the Alexeika we know.

 Dain frowned.  Tis strange advice.

 Well, I do have sisters.

 So did I, Dain reminded him. Thia never acted this way.

 Oh? But your sister was eldin.

 Alexeika has some eldin blood, Dain said.

 Not as much as

 Hush! Shes coming.

 Alexeika returned wearing the hauberk, which fit her perfectly. She walked with her head high and her 
shoulders erect. Her face was now perfectly composed, and only some redness in her eyes betrayed the 
fact that she had indeed been crying.

 Dain eyed her warily, but she seemed all right now. She rolled up her red hauberk into a bundle, stuck 
it under her arm, and put her cloak back on. Her new spurs jingled faintly with every step.

 Thank you, sire, she said in a clear, calm voice. Your majesty has been most kind in granting me 
this honor. I vow to serve you withwith less argument.

 He smiled, and she gave him a wan smile in return.

 When he beckoned to the dwarf boys, they came, though with obvious reluctance.

 A woman? they asked in disbelief. You make a warrior of a woman? 


 Look at the sword and daggers she carries. See how her hair is braided. She is a very brave fighter.

 Look at the sword and daggers she carries. See how her hair is braided. She is a very brave fighter.

 Give her the blessing just the same.

 But the two boys exchanged looks and ran off without a backward glance.

 Sighing, Dain gave Alexeika an apologetic shrug. I will speak the dwarf blessing myself.

 She held up her hand. Please dont. Tis unnecessary. Your gesture and gifts are generous enough.

 Alexeika, what is wrong?

 Her brows lifted, and he felt the lie even before she spoke it. Nothing, sire. Will you give us the order 
now to saddle up?

 He still did not know what had gone awry, or why this had upset her. But if she did not choose to tell 
him, he was not going to force her. Aye, he said with a sigh. Let us be gone. We have a hard journey 
ahead of us. By Maugs reckoning, weve at least a weeks travel to cut through the forest and reach the 
border. Then well have to find the Agyas.

 Alexeika blinked, and in an instant the clear-thinking, cool-headed warrior he knew and valued was 
back. Well find them, she said. As soon as we reach the border well be able to send a messenger to 
them.

 He snorted dubiously. A Netheran we can trust?

 Horse thieves make the best couriers, she said with a grin. Give them enough gold, and theyll do 
anything to bring Mun-cel down.

 Is that all I can count on? he asked in dismay. Horse thieves?

 Perhaps a few others. Remember, majesty, that Im a thief as well.

 He disliked the brittle, mocking way in which she said that, but let it pass. Were a thief, he 
corrected, already striding toward his darsteed to saddle it. You were a thief, but youre one no longer.

 So you think, majesty.

 He swung around and looked at her very hard. So I know, Alexeika. Now, lets ride.

 Eight days of hard riding through forest that grew increasingly thick and in places nearly impenetrable 
brought them head-on into a snowstorm. Lashed as they were by howling winds, and with the swirling 
snow nearly blinding them, even Dain could no longer be sure of the correct direction.

 He called a halt, and his weary darsteed pawed the ground. Beside him, Alexeika and Thum were 
barely recognizable shapes huddled inside their snow-covered cloaks and hoods. Alexeikas eyebrows 
and lashes were coated with snow. Thums beard was crusted over. Dain himself felt frozen to the 
marrow. Hed long ago lost any feeling in his fingers or toes, and he knew they were in mortal danger of 
freezing to death.

 Must find shelter! he shouted over the howling wind. His lips were so stiff he could barely speak.

 How? Thum shouted back. Where?

 Dain frowned. He was so cold and tired he couldnt think clearly. They needed a cave or a burrow, 
but neither were at hand. And if they tried to make camp here among these trees, they would surely 
perish.

 Alexeika lifted her head bleakly. Do we kill the animals?

 Slaughtering their mounts and disemboweling them so that they could shelter inside each animals body 
cavity seemed a last resort, one Dain found himself reluctant to act on. Most important, if they survived, 
they would be afoot. Then too, he was not eager to see the innards of a darsteed.

 The snow blew harder, all but obliterating the nearby trees and wrapping the world in a cocoon of 
white. Dains usual landmarks of sun angles, slanted growth of trees, and moss on tree bark and stones 
were of course gone. He could not follow scent, for the snow had covered even that. For all he knew, 
theyd been traveling in circles for hours.

 Alexeika drew one of her daggers. Wed better slash their throats at the same time. Otherwise, the 
smell of blood will make the darsteed

 Something reached him, a faint glimmer of instinct perhaps, or the touch of a mind far distant. Nay, 
not yet, Dain said.

 Why? Its our only chance. 


 He could not answer why. Whatever hed sensed was too indistinct for him to identify. But he 
gestured for her to put away her weapon. Bide a while. Lets keep going if we can.

 He could not answer why. Whatever hed sensed was too indistinct for him to identify. But he 
gestured for her to put away her weapon. Bide a while. Lets keep going if we can.

 Come on! He kicked the darsteed forward. The creature balked, no longer possessing the strength 
to rear in protest. Dain finally managed to urge it forward, one struggling step at a time.

 The ponies, short-legged and stalwart, actually fared better through the deep snowdrifts. Tireless and 
bred to this cold country, they lowered their heads against the wind and shouldered forward.

 Dain lost track of time again. He focused everything he had left on seeking that one instant of contact. 
Friend or foe, it no longer mattered. He simply kept urging the darsteed toward it and hoped numbly that 
Thum and Alexeika were able to follow. His mind was swimming, and he could no longer concentrate. 
He felt a strange roaring in his ears beneath the shriek of the wind, and had found himself swaying in the 
saddle when suddenly a glimmer of light appeared ahead.

 It took a moment for his brain to absorb what he was seeing, then he blinked and came back to 
awareness. A pale, ghostly light shone just ahead of his struggling darsteed, and as Dain stared the light 
grew more distinct and clear. A cloaked figure clad in a breastplate embossed with hammer and lightning 
bolt was blocking his path. It was Tobeszijian, his ghostly form so thin Dain could see snow blowing 
through him. Astride his ethereal darsteed, whose red eyes glowed through the swirling snowfall, 
Tobeszijian stared at Dain without speaking. His black hair blew back from his stern and handsome face, 
and in silence he pointed at Alexeika, who drew rein beside Dain and squinted.

 Why do you stop? she asked. Are youoh!

 Do you see him? Dain asked in wonder, and she nodded without taking her eyes off Tobeszijian.

 She stared a moment, then seemed to collect herself. Deeply she bowed. The king who was, she 
whispered.

 Tobeszijian stared at Alexeika a long time. He was still pointing at her, but at last he lowered his 
gloved hand. She uttered a little gasp, shuddering. Her hands clenched and unclenched on her reins.

 Dain turned his gaze back to his father. For an instant their eyes met, and he felt his fathers sadness 
pierce him. Forever lost, forever caught between worlds, neither dead nor alive. Yet despite his 
compassion for Tobeszijians, Dain was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief. Father! he called 
out. Guide me before we perish!

 Tobeszijian turned his darsteed around and walked it away. Hurriedly Dain reined his darsteed in that 
direction and followed. Stay close! he shouted to Alexeika and Thum.

 Alexeika turned her head and shouted to Thum, who seemed to wake up and spurred his pony closer. 
But soon he was lagging behind, and then Alexeika also fell back. The sturdy ponies had stamina, but 
their short legs could not keep up with the longer strides of the darsteeds.

 Sleepily Dain recalled that he had several questions to ask his father, yet he was so cold he could not 
rouse himself enough to remember what they were. War, he thought hazily. Strategy and 

 Abruptly his darsteed went plunging and skidding down an unseen bank into a snow-filled ravine. 
Scrambling desperately to keep its footing, the animal snorted flame and lashed its tail, just managing not 
to tumble before it landed at the bottom. The jolt snapped Dains teeth together.

 Barely able to comprehend what had happened, he glanced around, but Tobeszijian had vanished. 
Dismayed, Dain had opened his mouth to call out when figures erupted from the snow on all sides, 
popping up from snowdrifts to surround him. Clad in heavy furs, their eyebrows and mustaches coated 
white, they hardly seemed like men at all. But there was no mistaking the swords and javelins in their 
hands.

 Up at the top of the shallow ravine, Thums voice called out faintly through the howling wind. Dain! 
Sire, where are you?

 Dain looked up, but the snow was blowing so thickly he couldnt see his friends. Meanwhile, his circle 
of captors had closed in around him. Their dark eyes glittered with hostility, and Dain knew hed be dead 
with a javelin through his throat before he could draw Truthseeker.

 Anger warmed Dain. Hed trusted Tobeszijian to lead them to safety; instead, the ghost king had led 
him into a trap. Why? 


 Halloo! Thum called again, his voice even fainter than before.

 Halloo! Thum called again, his voice even fainter than before.

 Believer! he said sharply to Dain. How many of your filthy kind ride with you? He spoke Netheran 
with an accent that seemed vaguely familiar to Dain. How many? he repeated.

 Praying that Thum and Alexeika would wander on into the snowstorm and escape capture, but fearing 
luck had run out for all of them, Dain found himself too cold and weary to answer.

 One of the men gripped his arm and jerked him off the darsteed, which squealed and snapped 
viciously. It was too weary to have much fight left in it, however, and as he thudded into the snow, Dain 
was conscious only of how slow everything seemed to be happening. He felt warmer than before. The 
bottom of the ravine must be sheltered a bit from the wind, he thought vaguely. His eyes drifted shut.

 They jerked him up to a sitting position, and a javelin tip tapped his shoulder for attention.

 No point in questioning this one, someone said. Hes frozen.

 Take his weapons. Well let him and his monster freeze together.

 Rough hands grabbed at Dains cloak to pull it open, but with his last ounce of willpower, he drew his 
sword with fingers too stiff and clumsy to hold it firmly. In the name of Tobeszijian, I defy you, he 
mumbled.

 Silence fell over the men surrounding him. The javelin resting on his shoulder slid off.

 What did he say? someone finally asked.

 Tobeszijian. Tobeszijian! He invoked the lost kings name. 

Aychi! breathed another as he squatted down in front of Dain. Look at this sword. Its not

 Take care, Chesil! The Believers poison their weapons.

 Hes not Gantese, Chesil said gruffly, and pushed back Dains hood. Roughly he scrubbed the frost 

and caked snow off Dains brows and peered into his eyes. He jerked aside a lock of Dains hair and 
ran his gloved fingers over the tips of Dains ears. Eldin! Or partly so. Hes 
Hes Tobeszijian! someone else said in awe. 
Hes not! another voice protested. Wheres his crown? This sword aint Mirengard. It aint 

magicked.

  Tis! And I did hear him say his name.

 They all started talking at once. The darsteed!

 The sword!

 His eyes andgods save us! It must be!

 Dain was sinking deeper into the warmth, so welcome after his having been cold for so long, yet he 
thought them fools to mistake him for his father. He would never be half the man Tobeszijian was. 
Not..., he mumbled, and thought of Thum and Alexeika. Find ...

 His mind was full of fragments, like chips of ice that could not be fitted together. He heard the men 
talking around him, felt them shaking him, but their voices were now just a buzzing inside his head. He 
sank into darkness, and left them.

 When he awakened, it was to a sensation of true warmth and the cozy comfort of a crackling fire. He 
found himself lying in a low-pitched tent made of hides, with heavy furs lying atop him and a fire burning 
merrily in an iron cresset. He had no idea of how long hed lain unconscious, but through a slit in the tent 
flap he glimpsed darkness outside. The shadows inside his tent were deep except where the fire threw 
them back.

 Slowly his mind pulled memories together until he remembered his capture in the snowstorm. Well, 
they hadnt killed him as theyd first meant to. He checked, but his wrists and ankles werent bound 
under the furs.

 Sitting up, he frowned, wondering if they still actually believed he was his father. If so, he thought, they 
must be rebels, and he must speak to them.

 As he pushed off his furs, the tent flap opened, sending a gust of icy air whistling inside. A man ducked 
in with it, paused as his gaze met Dains, then dropped to one knee and bowed his head. He was a giant 
of a man, with muscular shoulders and a neck like a bulls. A luxuriant brown mustache drooped down 
either side of his mouth past his chin. He was red-cheeked and brisk, with brown eyes that twinkled in 


the firelight.

the firelight.

 Wait! Dain said quickly before the man could rise. Who are you? What camp is this?

 Ah. Forgive me, sire. I am Count Omas. My father served yours in the old days.

 Dain blinked at him and slowly smiled. Then you dont think I am Tobeszijian, Lord Omas?

 The count laughed, his voice booming strongly. Nay! But it made a good sport for us when the scouts 
came in with you, bleating in panic at what theyd captured.

 Im glad they thought it, Dain admitted wryly. Otherwise, I think they would have slain me for a 
Believer.

 That darsteed would make anyone think you were Gantese, except for your armor. No fire-eater, 
eh? He laughed again, slapping his knee.

 Dain realized hed been so concerned that Alexeika would be mistaken for Gantese that hed never 
considered the effect his own mount might have on folk. I thought the beast might be useful, he said.

 Eh? Well, perhaps. Omas pursed his lips. Its already eaten a camp dog and injured two grooms. 
Weve got it staked with as many ropes as we can spare, and a man is standing guard with a crossbow 
to kill it should it break loose.

 Is this a rebel camp? Dain asked.

 One of them. Weve been on the march nigh twenty days, held up thrice with this blighted weather. 
But thats the fate of men bent on waging war in winter.

 You got my message, then? Dain asked, only to frown immediately. If these men had been on the 
move for twenty days, theyd started out well before hed even been taken to Gant. Nay, of course not. 
Forget I asked that question, my lord.

 No message from any courier of yours, sire, Lord Omas said with puzzlement. Not since you sent 
acceptance of Lord Romsalkins pledge.

 Are these Romsalkins men? Dain asked.

 Aye, we are, Omas said proudly. When we heard that youd been captured and taken by those 
heathen devils, Lord Romsalkin vowed to strike at Grov though we all died for it. And so here we are, 
and its Thods grace that brought you into our scout trap. Aye, Thods grace indeed. 

It was Tobeszijians mercy, Dain thought, but he said nothing.

 Hungry, your majesty?

 Aye, Dain replied, but as Lord Omas jumped to his feet and started out, Dain called after him, And 
what word of my friends?

 The giants hearty face creased into a look of disquiet. Why, your majesty, two of em is all we 
managed to find in the storm. Come daylight well search again

 Two! Dain said in astonishment, not understanding. But of course you mean Sir Thum and the 
Princess Volvn? There are no others.

 Lord Omas stared at Dain in astonishment of his own. So the wench in chain mail claimed, but we 
could not believe her. Your majesty would not travel with so small a party.

 They are all that is left, Dain said in a voice of flint.

 Forgive me, sire! I meant no offense. Lord Omass heavy brows drew together. A princess, you 
say? That piece isI I meana lady?

 General Ilymir Volvns daughter, Dain said, annoyed to hear theyd not been treating her with 
proper respect. Shes no drab, no wench, no camp follower. If I learn any have treated her as such, 
those men will answer to me!

 Omas tucked in his chin, and although he could not stand at his full height in the low tent, he gave the 
impression of a man coming to attention. Ill see to it at once, your majesty. And now, if I may have 
leave to order your supper and see that Lord Romsalkin is notified that youre awake?

 Dain nodded dismissal, and the count vanished through the tent flap with another gust of icy wind. 
Fuming a little, Dain tossed off his fur covers and found himself clad only in his tunic and leggings. His 
boots and hauberk were nowhere to be found, but Truthseeker was hanging by its sword belt on a tent 


pole hook.

pole hook.

 Shivering as the cold ground numbed his feet through his stockings, he stepped onto one of the fur 
robes and wrapped another around his shoulders.

 Sire! called Lord Omas from without. Permission to enter?

 Come, Dain said impatiently.

 The man ducked inside, bringing with him another draft of freezing air and snow. Dain ignored the 
servant following with a tray of food, and scowled at the count.

 Where are my boots? he demanded. My hauberk? My cloak?

 Omas blinked as though taken by surprise. He turned on the servant, and pelted him with rapid-fire 
questions in a dialect that Dain did not understand.

 The servantshort, old, and wearing a collar of slavery replied in the same language.

 Ah, yes, Lord Omas said, turning back to Dain. Your cloak is being dried. The rust on your 
hauberk is being polished by my youngest squire. Your boots are being cleaned as well.

 I want them, Dain said. And I want to speak to Lord Romsalkin as soon as possible.

 Lord Omas bowed. At once, majesty. I shall inform his lordship of your summons

 Nay! Dain broke in. Ill go to him.

 But thats not Omas choked off his protest. As your majesty wishes.

 Get my boots and a cloak I can use, Dain said. Have them here by the time I finish my supper.

 Omas started out, but Dain gripped his sleeve. And tell my companions I wish to see them.

 Yes, your majesty.

 Have they eaten? Are they well?

 I believe so, your majesty.

 Dain was aware he had this man of high rank and perhaps some authority jumping like a squire, but he 
gave Omas a curt nod. Thats all for now.

 Yes, your majesty. Omas bowed, then rushed out.

 The servant remained behind. He had brought not only food, which was plain fare but steaming hot, 
but a pail of warm water to wash in.

 Grateful for these civilized amenities, Dain cleaned up and then, with a ravenous appetite, applied a 
wooden spoon to the contents of his bowl. It did not take him long to eat, but by the time he finished, his 
bootshardly recognizable for their gleamhad been delivered, along with his hauberk. The latter was 
freshly oiled, and mended where the sleeve had hung in tatters before. The servant helped him put on 
these articles, and by then someone was outside, handing over a cloak of magnificent lyng fur, pale cream 
with variant shades of gray stripes.

 Awed by its beauty, Dain could not help running his palms over the soft, silky fur. He wondered who 
had surrendered such a fine, warm garment to his use.

 The servant threw it around his shoulders before Dain ducked outside, into a bitter night indeed. The 
storm had abated, but the breeze was still brisk enough to feel knife-sharp. Snowflakes continued to fall, 
dusting his hair and collecting on the long tips of lyng fur.

 He found both Thum and Alexeika standing out there, waiting for him and jigging up and down to keep 
themselves warm.

 Both of them bowed to him, but Dain wasnt willing to stand on formal ceremony. Grinning in relief to 
see that both of them were well, he strode forward with his hands outstretched, but then noticed a crowd 
of knights gathered in the shadowy background, staring at him in awed silence. Dain realized he must 
now act like a true monarch. No longer could he rush about informally as just another knight and 
comrade-at-arms.

 Recalling all hed ever learned from King Verence, he beckoned Thum and Alexeika to him. You are 
well? he asked quietly.

 Yes, sire, Alexeika replied with dignity. 


 I shall never feel warm again, Thum complained, but, aye, sire, weve been well treated here.

 I shall never feel warm again, Thum complained, but, aye, sire, weve been well treated here.

 Alexeika? he asked again.

 She was tight-lipped and stiff. Your majesty might as well know theres been trouble. I had to stab an 
oaf for giving me insult and

 Did you kill him? Dain asked swiftly.

 Her eyes flashed again. Nay, but I wish I had.

 We cant afford to lose a single man for the battle to come, he told her, but gently to let her know he 
didnt disapprove of what shed done. If you must stab others, make sure you avoid their vitals.

 A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and suddenly there was muted laughter in her eyes instead 
of rage. Ill remember that, sire.

 Lord Omas approached them. Glancing his way, Dain stepped close to Thum and Alexeika. Stay 
near, he said quietly. These are Romsalkins men. They are friends by their former pledge, but let us 
take care until we know how things truly lie.

 At once Thums eyes grew serious and wary. Alexeika nodded her understanding. With them at his 
back, Dain faced the count.

 Lord Omas, he said, please escort me to your liege commander.

 There was no mistaking Romsalkins tent. A wondrous relic from an earlier age, it was huge enough to 
be divided into three rooms by walls of hard-woven cloth. The whole edifice creaked and shifted with 
every gust of wind, the ropes creaking and snapping taut against the poles. Beyar skins and worn, 
moth-eaten carpets covered the frozen ground. Torches on stakes provided illumination. A campaign 
table spread with a faded map, a miscellaneous collection of stools, and a table holding a paneatha with 
icons of the gods dangling from its bronze branches all served to furnish the central room of the tent, 
which is where Dain,- Thum, and Alexeika were escorted to meet Lord Romsalkin.

 The latter proved to be a short, barrel-chested man with sparse tufts of white hair standing up on his 
head and a short white beard trimmed to an emphatic point. Wearing an old, rather battered breastplate 
buckled on over his hauberk and a sword of ancient design, Romsalkin threw down his pen with such 
enthusiasm he overset an inkpot and blotted the entire page of vellum hed been writing on.

 Damne, what a mess! he said in disgust. Snapping his fingers at a page, he pointed at the dripping 
ink and went to greet Dain with hardly a pause. Your majesty! he said with gruff pleasure, and dropped 
to one knee. I have looked forward to this day for lo these many years. Thod be praised that I have 
lived to see you.

 Lord Romsalkin, Dain said formally, your friendship and loyalty is much appreciated. This is Sir 
Thum du Maltie, my adviser. And this is Princess Alexeika Volvn, daughter of General Volvn.

 Romsalkin gave Thum a nod of his head and a glance of swift appraisal, but at Alexeikas introduction, 
his brows shot up and he looked stunned.

 Ilymirs daughter? he said. Tears shimmered in his eyes, and he reached out his hands to clasp hers. 
My dear, dear child. What a blow we suffered when he died.

 Yes, she said with perfect composure. Watching her, Dain realized that she had indeed been trained 
in courtly manners, her rough ways notwithstanding. At the moment she was as formal, indeed as regal, 
as any fine lady of high breeding. He could not help but mentally contrast her dignified behavior tonight 
with those times when shed been spitting mad and cursing like a knight, her hair falling out of its braid 
and dirt streaked across her face. No doubt Alexeika had more surprises up her sleeves for them all. He 
wished hed seen her stab the man whod dared offend her earlier tonight.

 I realize your lordship and my father did not always agree on strategy, she went on calmly, but I 
heard him speak much of you at times.

 Romsalkin released her hand and barked out a laugh. Cursed me, more like. Aye, my dear. We used 
to fight like vixlets after the same prey round King Tobeszijians wardroom.

 Stiff and hostile no longer, she grinned back at him. 


 Dain sensed no deceit in the man, and stepped forward, eager to get on with the matters at hand. 
Forgive my haste, but there is much to be done. Ive heard from Lord Omas that youre marching on 
Grov.

 Dain sensed no deceit in the man, and stepped forward, eager to get on with the matters at hand. 
Forgive my haste, but there is much to be done. Ive heard from Lord Omas that youre marching on 
Grov.

 I would rather see Muncel licked than you, Dain said. Can your men wait here while word is sent to 
Matkevskiet?

 Words already gone to him, the sly dog. All these years, holding his men back, never helping us 
strike against the usurper. Depend on his help? Pah! Id as soon wait for a pack of Believers to come 
and join our cause.

 I have his pledge of four thousand men, Dain said. Ive sent a messenger to him, but can another go 
forth?

 Enough messages have gone forth, Romsalkin said. His shrewd eyes glanced from Dain to Omas 
and back again. So you would have us fight together, eh?

 Dain smelled a trick, and grew tense. If all the little rebel factions do not unite into one force, then 
they are fools who deserve no change in their government, he said harshly.

 And your majesty thinks that of me, Romsalkin said. He was serious now, his gaze intent. Rocking 
up and down on his toes with his hands clasped at his back, he never let his eyes stray from Dains face. 
Leader of a little faction.

 Nay, leader of two hundred knights pledged to my cause, Dain replied, and drew Truthseeker. 
Slamming the blade atop the map with a crash that made Romsalkins aides jump, he said, Exactly what 
size is this Grethori company, and can any more be coaxed into joining us? Can they be trusted? How 
many other men have been levied? Prince Spirin notified all the rebel leaders of my discovery at Savroix. 
Youve had plenty of time to assemble and contact each other. Stop trying to test me, my lord, and give 
me a blunt report of exactly where I stand.

 Hardly the ill-trained boy described in those dispatches to Muncel we intercepted, a new voice said.

 Dain turned his head and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man with long, iron-gray hair tied in a multitude 
of tiny braids. Tawny-skinned, he had an old, deeply puckered scar running across his forehead and 
down through his left eye. White with blindness, it made a stark contrast to his dark, sighted eye. Garbed 
in vivid blue with a crimson sash across his chest and a curved scimitar hanging at his side, this individual 
strode in from the rear room of the tent and stood surveying Dain with frank appraisal.

 Dain stared right back, not exactly pleased with this trick. You are General Ingor Matkevskiet, he 
said. 
The Agya leader bowed with a haughty, fierce expression. I am. 
And is Samderaudin the sorcerel also here? Dain asked. With the weapons and armor he 
promised? 
Matkevskiets lips curved in a fleeting smile while his gaze went on stabbing into Dain. Yes, he said. 
But he is busy casting your horoscope to see what fate will grant us. 
Fate will grant us what were willing to fight for, Dain said impatiently. How many more men 

besides your four thousand? His gaze shifted to Romsalkin. And your two hundred-plus?

 The Grethori cant be trusted, sire, Alexeika said softly behind him. Dont count them.

 Dain accepted her warning, but his gaze remained on his allies. How many more?

 Seven hundred, Matkevskiet answered, then admitted, Most are farmers and rabble, untrained and 
worthless except to rush to the front line. I believe even a few thieves and bandits have volunteered. We 
would be better off without such men. They will be in our way.

 Romsalkin turned on him, white beard bristling. And I still say they can be used.

 Matkevskiet frowned back, but before they could argue, Dain interrupted. Then our numbers are 
sufficiently equal. He met their surprised glances coolly. My intelligence reports state that Muncel has a 
standing army of five thousand. Unless he can send for additional troops from Gant, and get them 
quickly, we have enough to give him a scare. 


 Aye, thats so, Romsalkin agreed with a nod.

 Aye, thats so, Romsalkin agreed with a nod.

 Dain gave him a steely look. I will fight to the death to bring down the man who murdered my mother. 
Can we set forth at dawn?

 If the weather clears enough, aye, Romsalkin said eagerly. He grinned at Dain and gave Matkevskiet 
a nod. I like the boys spirit. Aye, that I do.

 But the general was still eying Dain with distrust. A fearless boy is a battle-green boy. / will lead the 
men, but only if Samderaudin himself fends off the Nonkind that will be sent against us.

 Perhaps his majesty will be able to persuade Samderaudin to

 I do not come here as a diplomat, Dain said in disbelief and rising anger. I come here to lead an 
army.

 No, Matkevskiet said. The fighting is ours to do.

 Romsalkin bristled. And what makes you think my men will follow an arrogant Agya dog like you

 So this is why Nether perishes under the heel of a sniveling, despicable, half-mad tyrant, Dain said. 
Anger cracked through his voice with so much vehemence and contempt that the torches in the tent 
flickered and nearly went out.

 Both Romsalkin and Matkevskiet dropped their argument and faced him in startlement.

 You deserve what has befallen you, Dain went on harshly. This petty bickering, this stupidity I 
Why have you waited eighteen years to depose the man, letting him build an army of Nonkind and film, 
letting him pillage the land and sicken it until it wont feed the people? Why did you not join forces and 
fight?

 Matkevskiet narrowed his good eye and said nothing, but Romsalkin lifted his head defensively.

 We had no king to lead us, he said. Tobeszijian vanished, and we waited for him to come back.

 Aye, waited, Dain said scathingly. Waited and plotted, but did nothing] How many battles have 
your men fought against Muncels forces, Lord Romsalkin?

 Now see here

 How many? Open, declared battles?

 Whywhya few, Romsalkin said uneasily. His gaze flicked at Alexeika, then fell away. Her face, 
Dain saw, was set and grim. Better to hit targets and sprint away, doing what harm we could on the 
run.

 Volvn took five hundred men forth, Dain said.

 And died in a futile gesture, wasting himself and his men, Matkevskiet said coldly.

 Alexeika stiffened. Her eyes were aflame, and her hand was on her sword hilt, but she did nothing, 
said nothing, much to Dains relief. He did not want her interference now.

 Volvn was my fathers best general, Dain said. It was the truth, by all accounts that hed heard, but 
to say so to these men was a deliberate affront. He saw both stiffen. Why did you not join with him, 
follow his leadership in overthrowing Muncel?

 And do what, crown Volvn our next king? Romsalkin blustered. A preposterous notion.

 Better that, than to roll over tamely beneath Muncels domination.

 Romsalkin turned bright red. Matkevskiet glared at Dain, as intent on him as an eagle sighting its prey.

 And where was Tobeszijian, our rightful king, all this time? he asked now, his voice thin with 
contempt. Why did he desert us? 
He did not, Dain said, just as sharply. He hid and myself and my sister, then he rode back into 
Nether to begin civil war. 
Easy to say. He ran. Took and ran, Matkevskiet said, years of pent-up resentment spilling forth. 
Why did he not come to his Agyas? We would have protected the royal children and ! 
Dain frowned. So thats what this is about. Old insults. Old resentments. My fathers reasons are not 

yours to question.

 They are if he deserted his duty. He deserted us! Matkevskiet said fiercely.

 If hed deserted you, he would be living in exile at his ease, Dain retorted. He did all he could, and 
now he is lost in the second world forever, trapped there in a fate more wretched than death. 


 Matkevskiet actually blinked, and Romsalkins mouth fell open.

 Matkevskiet actually blinked, and Romsalkins mouth fell open.

 Would I say it were it not? Dain retorted.

 Merciful gods, we must have prayers said for his soul at once, Romsalkin said. Catching Lord 
Omass eye, he said, Inform the priests. Damne, what a terrible thing.

 Matkevskiet went on staring at Dain. Your father is accounted for, but what of you, young 
king-to-be? Where have you been all these years?

 Growing up, so I could come here today and lead your men, Dain said icily. Youre wrong to think 
me green, general, but Ill not fault you for it now. Hear me. If I do not lead the battle and the men 
youve promised me, then I say break your pledge and take your men home.

 Someone in the tent gasped. Matkevskiets single eye bored into Dain without even a blink. A bold 
bluff, he said.

 Think you so?

 Aye. Tell me this. Have you the Ring of Solder?

 Dain knew where these questions were going. His heart sank, but he did not hesitate to give his 
answer. Nay. It is gone forever.

 Have you ?

 I know where my father hid it.

 Have you Mirengard, which the son of our king must carry?

 It remains in the second world with my father, Dain answered.

 Matkevskiets gaze shot scornfully to Romsalkin, who was frowning. And this boy would lead us into 
the field, my lord. Brave bluster means nothing in combat. If the gods are merciful and we should prevail, 
I will see him crowned, because I loved his father. But no Agya warrior will follow him into battle. I do 
not squander men with an untried boy.

 Alas, Romsalkin said, turning to Dain with regret. It seems we must listen to the general, sire. 
Really, the fact that you are present and awaiting the outcome of the battle will hearten the men

 Morde a day! Dain exclaimed in disbelief. I tell you I will not sit in a tent like some court daisy. 
Would any Agya warrior fight for such a fool, fight with all his heart and soul? I think not.

 The Agyas fight as I tell them to fight, Matkevskiet said darkly.

 Then send them home, Dain replied. I thank you for your offer, general, but I decline your pledge.

 Matkevskiet laughed. Hes mad, Romsalkin. Send my warriors home and leave himself but two 
hundred trained men and assorted rabble? Such foolishness only confirms my doubts.

 You dare judge me, Dain said harshly, blowing out his breath in an effort to keep his fraying temper. 
I come here more seasoned than you know, but you dare to find me wanting. My sword is not 
Mirengard, general. Nay, its not a mag-icked blade, not like Severgard, which Alexeika here carries. 
He held out Truthseeker. Look at it! Or do you know god-steel when you see it!

 God-steel! Romsalkin echoed, his eyes bulging. Thods bones, it cant be. Why, thats

 Impossible, Matkevskiet said, refusing to look at Truth-seeker. Contempt and disbelief shone in his 
one eye. This lie will not impress me more, sire.

 Is that scimitar of yours magicked? Dain asked.

 Nay.

 Romsalkin raised his hands and made patting motions. Now, now, your majesty, pray calm yourself. 
Theres no need for this. No need at all. Let us share wine and cool our heads.

 Dain ignored him, never taking his eyes off Matkevskiet. Draw your weapon.

 The Agya general lifted his head, his nostrils flaring at the challenge. From the rear room suddenly 
appeared two youths about Dains age. One of them he recognized as Matkevskiets son, the courier 
named Chesil whod come to Dain at Thirst. The other looked enough like him to be a brother. Both 
wore expressions of horror.

 Father, do not! Chesil said. To raise arms against the king is mortal sin.

 Perhaps outside would be better for combat, Lord Omas suggested.

 Alexeika had her hands on her weapons. Thum crowded closer to Dain. 


 Sire, I like this not, he whispered on Dains left. Have a care.

 Sire, I like this not, he whispered on Dains left. Have a care.

 Quiet yourselves, Dain said to the room at large. I do not intend to fight the general. Sir, draw your 
weapon.

 He will be very fast, Alexeika whispered in Dains right ear. Agyas move quicker than thought. He 
will catch you by surprise, if you are not careful.

 Grateful for the warning, Dain flicked her a tiny smile. But he was very serious indeed as he returned 
his gaze to Matkevskiet.

 I gave you an order, he said. Will you defy me in this as well?

 The general shrugged, then slowly drew his scimitar, despite his sons protests. After silencing them 
with a gesture, he faced Dain. A fool will be a fool. Who am I to disobey the order of my unproven 
king?

 One engagement only, Dain said, shrugging off his fur cloak. He hefted Truthseeker in his hands, 
flexing his shoulders to loosen them. As the others moved back to give them room and servants hastily 
shoved aside Romsalkins desk and the precious paneatha, Dain was well-aware that his challenge could 
fail. It was risky to take on an opponent he did not know moreover, an opponent he had seriously 
provoked.

 I have a point to make, Dain said. One engagement, general, but do not hold back.

 Matkevskiet smiled a cold, dangerous smile, revealing his filed teeth. The light of battle shone in his 
single eye, and Dain felt the menace in him like a tangible force. Civilization was a thin garment this man 
wore.

 Swiftly Dain shoved aside his momentary qualms and moved into a crouch. He never took his gaze off 
his opponent and pulled all of his concentration into play. Thod, strengthen me, he prayed beneath his 
breath.

 At that moment Matkevskiet loosed a blood-curdling yell and sprang. He was a blur of motion, his 
scimitar whirling in his hands. And he did not simply charge at Dain in a straightforward run. Instead, he 
danced and kicked with complicated footwork that enabled him to leap into the air at exactly the same 
moment he swung his blade down at Dains unprotected head.

 Had he hit, he would have cleaved Dains skull in twain.

 But Dains special senses were guiding him. Without watching Matkevskiet, he began to counter the 
moves he sensed Matkevskiet would make. As a result, as the general leaped, Dain was already in 
motion, ducking beneath him and turning as the general spun in midair.

 And when Matkevskiet landed, Dain was not where the general had obviously expected him to be. 
Instead, Dain was still facing him, off to the side, and already swinging Truthseeker.

 The scimitar flashed in the torchlight, but as the two blades came together with all the strength both 
men possessed, it was the scimitar which shattered into dozens of razor-sharp pieces.

 At once, Dain stepped back. Pale with astonishment, Matkevskiet stared at him. Dain swept him a 
salute and sheathed Truthseeker with satisfaction.

 Ho! Lord Omas boomed out, clapping loudly. Well done, sire! Well done!

 Not even with the merest glimmer of a smile did Dain acknowledge the applause. Hed just defeated 
and shocked a proud warrior because he was lucky enough to possess a superior weapon. The last thing 
he wanted was to make an enemy of Matkevskiet by dealing him humiliation.

 God-steel, he said quietly, has its advantages, as you can see.

 The general went on staring at him, his expression quite impassive. Then he dropped to one knee and 
pressed his fingertips to his forehead and out in salute. When he looked up, he was beaming.

 So would your father have fought me for the cruel things I said, he announced with pride. Exactly 
like the father is the son. Tobeszijians son. Aychi! I give thanks to the gods that I have lived to serve my 
king again.

 Now it was Dains turn to stare with astonishment. That was a test? All that argument? All those 
doubts and insults? 


 They were real enough, Matkevskiet said, rising to his feet. You have proven your courage, young 
king. Now it remains to be seen whether you can prevail against the usurper. Can you lead an army?

 They were real enough, Matkevskiet said, rising to his feet. You have proven your courage, young 
king. Now it remains to be seen whether you can prevail against the usurper. Can you lead an army?

 To the death, Matkevskiet said simply. As I swore to follow your father.

 A sense of relief swept over Dain then. He grinned for a moment, feeling almost light-headed, and 
everyone crowded around him. Romsalkin called for wine, and Lord Omas asked questions about 
Dains sword. Matkevskiets sons, looking awed, hung on every word.

 Celebration is too soon! announced a voice that sent a chill up Dains spine.

 The hubbub fell silent immediately, and men stepped back to give Dain a clear sight of the individual 
now entering the tent. Snow blew in behind him, ruffling the beyar furs he wore as clothing.

 His eyes were tilted, his face curiously smooth-skinned, although Dain sensed at once that he was 
extremely old. He glided forward as though his feet barely moved, yet suddenly he was standing very 
close to Dain.

 He smelled of something bitter and acrid. His gaze held secrets no mortal should know. 
Dains heart was beating fast. This had to be the sorcerel Samderaudin, yet although he was supposed 
to be an ally, Dain could not help but instinctively distrust him, as he did all enchanters of this kind. 
The sorcereVs gaze burned into Dain. He lifted a bony, taloned finger in admonition. Celebrate not 
yet, he said, his voice crackling and humming with a resonance that spoke of spells and powers. 
It was almost like listening to the tainted sword Tanengard, Dain thought. He frowned, forcing himself 
not to be distracted, and said, You are 
Much danger lies ahead, Samderaudin interrupted curtly. I have cast the future, yet it remains 
unclear. There is betrayal to come. You have been warned of this by Tobeszijian. Do you heed it? 
Aye, Dain replied with a frown, conscious of the others exchanging swift looks behind him. But Ive 
been betrayed already. 
More is to come. More danger. More trials. Samderaudin leaned toward him, and Dain had to fight 
himself not to draw back. Death lies heavy along your path, Faldain. 
Thank you for this warning, Dain forced himself to say courteously. I hope your foretelling means 

that I will deal much death to others, and not find it myself.

 Alexeika gasped, but he did not glance at her.

 The sorcerers expression did not change. His eyes were yellow and intensely compelling. Dain felt the 
power emanating from them and found himself wanting to babble all his secrets. Gritting his teeth, he 
resisted, and after a moment the pressure eased.

 There is more, Samderaudin said. He pointed at Truth-seeker. It protects you with the power of 
the ancients. But you will face a choice, Faldain. Count the risks before you decide. The reach of Ashnod 
can be very long.

 Dain frowned, trying to fathom what the sorcerel meant. He opened his mouth to ask questions, but 
without another word Samderaudin turned and glided out.

 Dain hurried after him, ignoring those who called to him. But when he stepped outside into the falling 
snow, the camp lay quiet and dark, and Samderaudin was nowhere to be seen.

 At dawn, the army marched forth. Romsalkins banner of crimson and white unfurled in the frosty air. 
Matkevskiets banner of sky blue and green flew beside it. The skulls tied to a pole draped with islean 
pelts represented the tribe of Grethori, whom

 Alexeika cursed and avoided at all times. Even the rabble carried streamers of different colors to 
signify their regions. And above them all flew the burgundy and gold pennon of the royal house of Nether.

 When its heavy folds, creased and worn from long years of storage, shook free and billowed forth in 
the wind, Romsalkin was visibly moved. Ah, to see it fly again, he said to Dain, wiping his eyes. This 
does stir my heart.

 Dain stared at it, seeing the hammer and lightning bolt depicted in gold across a field of burgundy, and 
his heart was stirred too. Before him stretched his army, a vast sea of faces cheering his name.

 He lifted his arm in response and glanced at his generals. Let us ride to war.

 They marched to Grov, struggling against the obstacles of harsh weather and inadequate provisions. 


This was the wrong time of year to wage war, yet now that their course was set, none of them was willing 
to wait for springDain because he was anxious to rescue Pheresa, and the others because they had 
already waited too many years to strike at the tyrant they hated.

This was the wrong time of year to wage war, yet now that their course was set, none of them was willing 
to wait for springDain because he was anxious to rescue Pheresa, and the others because they had 
already waited too many years to strike at the tyrant they hated.

 The journey became a sort of kings progress, for every pathetic village they passed by turned out to 
stare at them, sometimes in terror and sometimes in hope. Dain would not let the Agyas loot such places, 
for clearly the people were starving already. Instead, they plundered the royal storehouses in larger 
towns.

 I am the king, Dain declared. And I take what is mine!

 Sometimes Muncels soldiers put up token resistance; often they fled their posts at the granaries. 
Meanwhile, word of Dains coming flashed from town to town, spreading across the land with every 
woodcutter, every fur trapper, every merchant or peddler who had not yet denned up for the long cold.

 No help for it, Romsalkin would mutter, fretting at night when Dain and his advisers met in the huge 
tent to plan strategies. Muncel has plenty of time to prepare for us. We can lay siege to the city fortress 
or Belrad, if he chooses to meet us there. He can defend it better.

 Ought to take Belrad first, Matkevskiet suggested. Give him no bolt-hole.

 Split off a detachment to see to that, Dain said. But I must take Grov first. Tis the capital that must 
be claimed for my own.

 Muttering, they would peer at the map again. The Nonkind worried both old strategists terribly, for 
they claimed that Mun-cel had an entire auxiliary force of soulless warriors, dead men who would fight 
without tiring or stopping. And the cache of magicked armor and swords that Samderaudin had indeed 
provided was insufficient to supply every man in Dains force.

 We need more sorcerels, Matkevskiet kept saying glumly, squinting his one eye. Without them 
well be outmatched.

 Dain frowned at such pessimism. If Mandrians can fight Nonkind without magic or even salt, who are 
we to bemoan what we haveT

 Romsalkins white beard bristled. Mandrians, pah! he said, forgetting that Thum stood at Dains 
back. What do they ever face but little raids from time to time? Nay, your majesty, Im talking about a 
vast Nonkind force to be reckoned with.

 Eventually they agreed on a plan. Grov was bordered on one side by the Velga River, but to the 
southwest lay a sweep of rolling meadows and a bit of valley where the city sprawled. There they would 
meet Muncels forces. It was by far the best ground available.

 For Dain, used to fighting when and where the emergency struck, such advance planning was very 
interesting. He wondered, however, if Muncel would adhere to the formal rules of battle or if he would 
instead pour Nonkind at them from all directions.

 Of course he will, Alexeika muttered one night when she and Thum gathered with Dain inside his 
tent. It was larger than the first one hed slept in, but nothing like Romsalkins magnificent dwelling. 
Although hed been offered the use of Romsalkins quarters, Dain was content to use this plain tent of 
ordinary size. It gave him privacy for these quiet talks with his friends.

 Restless and clearly on edge, Alexeika got up from her stool and began to pace back and forth in the 
limited confines. The fire in the cresset cast shadows and highlights across her face. Muncel did not 
hesitate to use deceit and trickery against my father. He will do the same to you, sire.

 Then we must prepare some tricks of our own, Dain said thoughtfully. Romsalkin intends to put all 
the men with magicked swords and armor at the front, but I think we had better deploy them at our rear 
and sides.

 You mean, make a ring of such protected men? Thum asked.

 Aye.

 Chesil Matkevskiet twitched aside the tent flap and peered in. Forgive me for interrupting, sire, but 
Lord Omas is here to see you.

 Dain glanced up. Ah, yes, admit him. 


 He had servants assigned to his use now, and a squire to oversee his weapons and mail. Young Chesil, 
hero worship shining in his dark face, short braided hair swinging energetically, served as Dains aide, 
running messages back and forth for him daily. Sir Thum stayed close by, ready to give Dain counsel 
whenever he was confronted by something he did not instantly understand. There was much to learn and 
much to do. He received dispatches and letters daily, many of them from Prince Spirin and other notable 
exiles of the old Netheran court. There were petitions to join Dains court, blessings, pleas to grant the 
return of lands confiscated by Muncel, and a barrage of other matters that left Dain feeling overwhelmed 
whenever he tried at night to cope with them. Although his command of the Netheran language had 
improved swiftly, he still found it difficult to read and even harder to write. He needed clerks to handle 
the paperwork, and at last he ordered Thum to simply sack up all the letters, reports, and requests, to be 
dealt with later, if and when they took Grov.

 He had servants assigned to his use now, and a squire to oversee his weapons and mail. Young Chesil, 
hero worship shining in his dark face, short braided hair swinging energetically, served as Dains aide, 
running messages back and forth for him daily. Sir Thum stayed close by, ready to give Dain counsel 
whenever he was confronted by something he did not instantly understand. There was much to learn and 
much to do. He received dispatches and letters daily, many of them from Prince Spirin and other notable 
exiles of the old Netheran court. There were petitions to join Dains court, blessings, pleas to grant the 
return of lands confiscated by Muncel, and a barrage of other matters that left Dain feeling overwhelmed 
whenever he tried at night to cope with them. Although his command of the Netheran language had 
improved swiftly, he still found it difficult to read and even harder to write. He needed clerks to handle 
the paperwork, and at last he ordered Thum to simply sack up all the letters, reports, and requests, to be 
dealt with later, if and when they took Grov.

 Your majesty! Lord Omas boomed, bowing low. He stripped off his gloves, then slapped them 
against his palm. I stand ready to serve.

 Dain gestured at the warmed wine theyd been drinking, and Lord Omas took a cup with a grateful 
sigh.

 Ah, that does warm the insides. Thank you, sire.

 I have made inquiries, Dain said, gazing up at the giant. Im informed you have your own hold.

 Aye, tis so small and so unimportant and so out of the way that even the usurper didnt want it, 
Omas replied cheerfully. I have a standing army of twenty knights, all of whom are now here among 
your majestys forces. The original warrant granted to my ancestor was for the hold to guard a mountain 
pass for an old trade route up near the Worlds Rim.

 Guard against what?

 Grethori devils mostly. Even the Nonkind dont venture that far. Omas grinned. Sometimes we see 
boat raiders from the Sea of Vvord, but not often.

 And Romsalkin is your liege?

 Aye, majesty. But only in the levying of armed men and an annual tribute.

 I ask these questions because I have a request of you, Dain said carefully. But I do not wish to 
offend you by discounting any obligations you may have elsewhere.

 No offense can be given by my king, Omas said, his twinkling brown eyes looking serious for once. 
He was plainly intelligent, despite his size, muscle, and cheerful manner. Dain had been observing him for 
days, and at no time had that instant sense of trust and liking hed felt for the man in their first meeting left 
him. Please tell me your majestys request, Omas said now, and I will

 Make no promise until you hear it, Dain interrupted swiftly. He leaned forward on his stool. I would 
have you serve me as my lord protector. But only if you have no obligation elsewhere, and if such service 
would please you. Speak freely if you wish it not, and I will hold nothing against you.

 A tide of red flooded Lord Omass face, spreading up from his throat to burn his cheeks. He seemed, 
for once, at a loss for words. Then he dropped to his knees and bowed low. 
Your majesty, he said hoarsely. This honor is profound. I... But how can you trust me so? Your 
majesty hardly knows me. 
You are a good man, Dain told him. Clearly your heart is honest and brave. And you are big 
enough to make two protectors, he added with a wry smile. Would such service please youT 
Lord Omas was blinking hard. He looked both stunned and overwhelmed. Aye, he said in a choked 

voice.

 Would your duties take you too much away from your family?

 Nay. Something bleak and transitory crossed Omass face. My lady wife is dead. I have twin sons, 
presently fostered for training.

 Dain rose to his feet. Then it is settled. You are my protector, and my life is entrusted to you.

 Lord Omas put his hand atop Dains foot and bowed even lower. I pledge myself to your majestys 


service, to the death and beyond.

service, to the death and beyond.

 Lord Omas climbed to his feet with a radiant smile, almost knocked his head on the top of the tent, 
and hurried out.

 At last! Alexeika said as soon as he was gone. I was beginning to think your majesty would never 
choose someone. Its been a worry to us all, seeing you go about without a protector.

 Dain gave her a nod, but his gaze went to Thum, who was looking pensive and sour. He knew Thum 
had secretly hoped to be named his protector, but it would not do.

 A good choice, sire, Thum said without enthusiasm. Hes twice the size of Sir Terent.

 There will never be another Sir Terent, Dain said quietly. As for you

 Ah, yes, Thum said too quickly. Too much a scholar to make a good knight.

 Too good a knight and adviser to make a protector, Dain corrected him. Why should I waste your 
talents in such a post?

 I would rather have you at my side, my friend, than at my back.

 Thum turned red, and he seemed placated. Destined to be your chancellor someday, no doubt, he 
said lightly.

 He spoke in jest, but Dain remained serious. Exactly.

 While Thums eyes widened and he choked in astonishment, Dain picked up his cup and raised it high. 
A toast to my protector, he said. And now the two of you can stop fretting over me.

 Alexeika drank the toast, but her gaze remained uneasy. As long as there are enemies to be faced, 
we will continue to worry. Do not forget Samderaudins warning.

 But on the morning they finally reached Grov, the sorcereVs mysterious foretelling was the last thing 
on Dains mind. Geared for battle in breastplate, mail, spurs, and helmet, his fur cloak warm and heavy 
on his shoulders and the darsteed he rode spitting fire, Dain drew rein on a gentle rise and found himself 
gazing at his fathers city.

 This was a cold, cheerless day, as gray and bleak as mist. The air smelled of snow, though as yet none 
had started to fall.

 Down in the city proper, there seemed to be little or no activity. A church bell was ringing, but without 
urgency. Across the city where the river was half-frozen and dotted with small ice floes, a long team of 
kine struggled to pull a floating barge laden with logs. On the hill rising steeply behind the city jutted the 
spires and towers of the palace, the place where Dain had been born.

 He stared, drinking in the sight of this place he had not seen since he was two years old. Nothing 
looked familiar to him, but as he drew in a long breath, the myriad scents of the land, the river, and the 
city came to him, and vague memories stirred deep in his mind. He recalled sitting in a room bright with 
shades of yellow, green, and blue as sunshine poured in through enormous windows. He was sitting on a 
stool so high his legs dangled, drinking from a silver cup that had tiny animals carved on the handle. He 
remembered playing with them, imagining them to be alive and his playmates. And from somewhere in the 
next room came the murmur of feminine voices, then the sound of his mothers laughter, light and full of 
song.

 He heard it clearly, and with a gasp of surprise, he reached inside his hauberk and pulled forth his 
pendant of bard crystal. Swiftly he rubbed his fingers across its faceted sides, and its song came forth, in 
exactly the same musical key as his mothers laughter.

 Only then, for the first time in his life, did he understand how this small part of her had always been 
with him. He had not, had never, lost all of her as hed thought.

 Emotions rushed him, and his eyes stung a moment with tears. Then he tucked the bard crystal away, 
and firmed his mouth and blinked his eyes dry. She had died there, in that palace. And he had come to 
avenge her.

 Where is my uncle? he asked, pointing at the empty meadow.

 Morde a day! Romsalkin said, puffing through his beard. I thought their army would be here to 
meet us. 


 General Matkevskiet came galloping up on his stallion. He was not wearing his helmet, and his long 
gray braids flew out behind his head as he rode. More trickery! he said furiously. He knew we were 
coming with a force nearly equal to his. Why is he not here? Does he expect us to send him an 
invitation?

 General Matkevskiet came galloping up on his stallion. He was not wearing his helmet, and his long 
gray braids flew out behind his head as he rode. More trickery! he said furiously. He knew we were 
coming with a force nearly equal to his. Why is he not here? Does he expect us to send him an 
invitation?

 Muncel is not here, he said.

 What? Romsalkin exploded. What does your majesty say? Not here? How can this be?

 The army lies hidden in that pesthole of squalor and filth they call a city, Matkevskiet said angrily. 
They will spring out and ambush us the moment we ride into the streets.

 No, Dain said.

 Sitting nearby on his horse, his strange eyes on fire and his fur clothing bundled shapelessly about him, 
Samderaudin swept forth his hands in a gesture that made the air crackle and pop. They are not there, 
he said. It is as the king says.

 Dain was already spurring the darsteed forward, ignoring calls for him to come back. Alexeika and 
Lord Omas plunged after him, their horses kicking up sprays of snow.

 The others had no choice but to follow. Thus did Dain lead his army into Grov unchallenged. It was 
hardly a triumph. On all sides he saw the signs of hasty flight and damage, belongings strewn about and 
dropped as people had fled, signs of looting as though Muncels army had pillaged as it left. The few 
inhabitants remaining were in hiding.

 Dain glimpsed faces peering at him from broken windows and sensed others, concealed and terrified. 
As for Grov itself, he saw at once how glorious its past had been. The architecture of its buildings made 
him marvel. He admired the broad central avenue that led through the heart of the city. There were 
streets of enormous palaces that must have belonged to the noble families. But past glory was nearly 
obscured by the squalor of the present. Dain rode past smashed and torn-down statues, saw how the 
palaces had been damaged and burned. Entire wings stood roofless and windowless. Some buildings had 
trees growing up through them. The ones still lived in were shabby and unkempt.

 The lesser sections of the city appalled him. Narrow streets of mud twisted in all directions through a 
maze of wooden buildings. Nonkind stench lingered here, keeping everyone alert and on edge. But no 
attacks came, no ambushes, no traps. There were only a few pitiable individuals in rags fleeing from sight, 
stinking piles of refuse and filth, starving dogs skulking for what they could find in the garbage, and vermin 
too bold to run.

 Dains face grew stony as he struggled to hide his shock. Hed heard all the stories, of course, but 
never had he believed a city could be as terrible as this. Muncel lived here, kept his court here. Had he 
no pride in what hed stolen? Was he truly so insane, so indifferent to everyone except himself that he 
was willing to let his city look like this?

 Sire, Thum whispered as he rode up alongside Dain. His hazel-green eyes were wide and 
disbelieving. This is a dreadful place. Its ruined. Theres nothing left. 
Aye, Alexeika said, pointing at a section of the city which had been burned. They tried to destroy it 

before they fled.

 Dain sighed. Small wonder Muncel deserted this.

 Nothing to fight for, Thum said with scorn.

 Wrong, Dain said, pulling himself back together. He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. This is 

my city, the city of Netheran kings. Lord Tamski!

 An officer riding near Dain came alert. Yes, sire?

 Organize patrols. I want every section swept, to make sure no pockets of resistance remain.

 Yes, sire! Tamski wheeled his horse and galloped away.

 Lord Romsalkin, Dain said, please see that the church bells are set ringing.

 Tears had dried on Romsalkins cheeks, but he scowled fiercely at Dains order. Aye, sire. I will! 
Does your majesty want the Glorias rung? 


 Dain had no idea what he referred to, but nodded. Whatever is appropriate.

 Dain had no idea what he referred to, but nodded. Whatever is appropriate.

 And you, majesty? Matkevskiet asked, watching Dain closely with his one eye. Where do you go 
now?

 Muncels fortress must be secured, Dain said.

 Aye, but where do you go now?

 Dain drew a deep breath, thinking of Pheresa and his past. I go to my fathers palace, he said.

 Runthas Folly, some had called it. Dainheavily surrounded by a guard of Agya warriors, Thum and 
Alexeika at his side, and Lord Omas at his backrode across the wooded grounds of the sprawling 
palace compound. Although it had been allowed to become overgrown, and woolly thickets now choked 
the place, he saw signs of old cultivation, plantings that were not wild varieties, and occasional traceries 
of the last few blooms of some delicate shrub now frozen by winters blast.

 Today was Selwinmas, celebrated in Mandria as the day the monk Selwin became the first convert to 
Tomiass reformed teachings. Here in Nether, Dain had learned, Selwinmas was more commonly 
referred to as wintertide, the first official day of the deep cold and the shortest day of the year.

 So far, there was nothing to celebrate.

 He kicked the darsteed and galloped right up to the broad steps of the palace. The buildings surfaces 
were carved into fantastic creatures or twining vines or twisting branches or cavorting beasts. There was 
too much to look at, too much to see.

 Dain did not try. He could feel his mothers bones somewhere near, somewhere out in the gardens 
beneath the snow. There were memories here, perhaps not all of them his own. He sensed old emotions, 
lingering like ghosts: emotions of fear, anger, hatred, and love all jumbled and mixed together in 
something he was not yet ready to deal with.

 Just now, he was not interested in ghosts. He sought the living. 
Sir Thum! he said crisply, dismounting even as the Agya commander in charge of his guards 
protested that he must wait until they secured the palace. We must look for Pheresa. 
Thum seemed startled. They wouldnt leave her here. Surely they took her and Prince Gavril with 
them. 
Hostages would be in the fortress, sire, the commander said. 
Dain met Alexeikas eyes, and he wondered for a moment why she remained silent. Nay, he 
insisted. They were kept here. Come! 
He strode inside, forcing the swearing Agyas to leap off their horses and hurry after him. Lord Omas 
was almost treading on his heels, saying with every step, Let me go first, sire. Let me go first. 
But Dain wouldnt listen. The place was eerie and silent, full of shadows, and empty in a way that 
chilled his bones.

 He hurried through one enormous stateroom after another, barely registering the faded or destroyed 
magnificence, the rotted hangings, the broken windows that let in icy drafts. His boots echoed loudly on 
the floors as he searched. Later, much later, he would have to explore every inch of it for himself, but not 
now.

 There was no sense of Pheresa, nor of Gavril. He knew that, and yet he steeled his heart against the 
truth, telling himself they must be here. The alternative was too heartbreaking.

 They are not here! Alexeika finally said, as they halted partway up the broad staircase. It had once 
been painted in the most fantastic mixture of colors, but all was faded now. As a rat went scrambling out 
of sight above them, its red eyes looking vicious, Alexeika planted herself in front of Dain. Her blue-gray 
eyes were wide and pleading. Please! Abandon this search. They are gone. Everyone is gone. In 
Belrad, perhaps, they will be found.

 A part of him wanted to agree with her, but hed come so far, had endured so much. He couldnt 
accept it, refused to believe that once more hed failed the lady he loved.

 Gently he pushed Alexeika out of his way and continued up the staircase. We havent found the room 
I saw yet, he said.

 She turned as he passed her and reached out as though tempted to grip his arm. Dont! she cried 


out. Please dont!

out. Please dont!

 And then all the memories and overlapping impressions faded, allowing his mind to clear. He looked 
down the length of the gallery and saw Gavril and Pheresa sitting in tall chairs, just as Thums hand 
clamped on his elbow.

 Great mercy of Thod! Thum exclaimed hoarsely. They are here!

 Dain stared at the pair, sitting at the far end of the gallery. Neither of them moved or spoke; perhaps 
they were dead.

 Swallowing hard, Dain slowly peeled Thums hand off his arm. His ears were roaring, and he paid no 
heed to anything that was said. When he walked forward, his footsteps thudded loudly on the boards. 
Lord Omas hastened ahead of him to reach the royal couple first.

 Gavril sat there, clad in dirty velvet. His blond hair was long and unkempt, his beard untrimmed, his 
eyes reddened and star-ing fixedly. He clutched Tanengard in his begrimed hands, and only an occasional 
blink showed any life in him.

 Shocked, Dain stared at his old enemy, unable to reconcile this Gavril with the one hed always 
known. So arrogant and sure of himself, so favored, so handsome, so falsely pious, Gavril had many 
faults, but hed always been strong, vigorous, and full of zest. Now, it seemed the Netherans had broken 
him. He was a wreck, a shadow of himself, so deeply withdrawn into the ruin of his mind that he seemed 
completely unaware that they were here.

 Gavril, Dain said. Prince Gavril!

 The prince did not respond. It was as though he did not hear Dain, did not see him standing there. His 
dark blue eyes stared emptily.

 Frowning, Dain turned to Pheresa. She sat slumped in her chair, clad in a filthy, torn gown of faded 
silk, a necklace of tawdry glass around her throat. Pale and sweating, she was unconscious. The moment 
he touched her hand and felt its fever heat, he knew the eld-poison still consumed her. She was very near 
her end.

 Oh, Thod, he said in despair, kneeling before her. And I thought you well.

 Sire, dont touch her, Thum said uneasily. You might contract the poison yourself.

 Poison? the Agya commander asked in alarm. What poison? Or is it a spell thats been cast here?

 Sire, Alexeika said in a hollow voice. Nonkind are nearby.

 He smelled nothing, sensed nothing. No.

 I say they are! Alexeika shouted. She drew Severgard, and the blade was glowing white with 
power. The sword does not lie! 
The Agya commander shouted orders, and his warriors ran to the doors and all corners of the room, 
their weapons drawn and ready. 
Dain looked around swiftly. Sir Thum, we must get Pheresa out of here. Find a blanket, a tapestry, 

anything to wrap her in. Quickly!

 Thum hurried away to do Dains bidding.

 Alexeika circled around behind the chairs, alert and brandishing Severgard in her hands. I like this 
not. Something is wrong here. Its a trap, and these two are the bait.

 Perhaps, Dain said, intent on Pheresa. How drawn and thin she looked. Her bones were pushing 
through her skin, as though the Netherans had starved her.

 And Gavril looked hardly better. Dain thought of what King Verence would say were he to see his fine 
son in such a state.

 Where is Sir Thum? he asked impatiently. Lord Omas, do you see aught we can use to wrap her 


in? Tis freezing in here. I wonder she has not already perished of such cold.

in? Tis freezing in here. I wonder she has not already perished of such cold.

 It was the only warning Dain had as Gavril came suddenly to life, rising from his chair and swinging 
Tanengard with deadly intent.

 Bent as he was over Pheresa, Dain had no chance to draw his weapon before Tanengard clanged 
across the back of his breastplate and bit deep into his shoulder. The blow drove him down across her 
unconscious body.

 He tumbled to the floor, awash in a sea of incredible pain. The magicked blade had sliced through his 
armor like a hot blade through butter, and it filled him with an agony beyond anything an ordinary wound 
might have caused. Unable to move, he was conscious of nothing except this all-consuming pain. He 
cried out, his body wanting only to flee the pain, to escape it, but there was no getting away. It hurt so 
horribly he wondered if his arm had been hacked off. Then at last, the pain eased enough for him to draw 
in a breath. He felt blood gushing down his back, and shuddered.

 Faldain! Alexeika shouted again, her voice distorted by the roaring in his ears. 
From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Gavril looming over him. Then Tanengards blade came 
flashing down once more.

 With all his strength, Dain forced himself to reach past the agony and move. He managed to roll over, 
and Tanengard thudded into the floor where his head had been just a second before. The sword caught 
there, and Gavrilhis expression still emptytugged at it, to no avail.

 Dain scrambled away from him, hampered by his injury and all but pinned against the chairs. Gavril 
could have turned on him, could have plunged his dagger through Dains heart in those few seconds, but 
he continued to tug at his sword with mindless intensity.

 Scooting frantically to get away, Dain saw a gaping hole in Gavrils neck just beneath the back curve 
of his skull. Horror flashed through Dain at the sight of it. Despite his long dislike, and even occasional 
hatred, of Gavril, no enemy deserved this fate.

 Gavrils soul had been eaten. He was Nonkind.

 The smell reached Dain then, a foul, putrid wave of decay that burned his nostrils and left him gasping.

 Desperately he grabbed for Truthseeker, missed, and grabbed again. Although the pain had now 
localized itself in the back of his left shoulder, his whole body had become strangely weak. He felt his 
head swimming, and tried again to draw his sword. But Alexeika gripped him by his cloak and dragged 
him away from Gavril.

 Dear Thod, she was gasping. Dear Thod!

 And time, which had seemed frozen since Gavril had struck the first blow, flowed forward again. Now 
everything seemed to be happening at once, with men shouting and running. Omas was bellowing, and 
only Dain seemed unable to flow with time or to hear what anyone was saying or to move as he wanted 
to.

 He knew he had to warn them, but he lacked the breath.

 Gavril pulled Tanengard free. Lifting it, he turned and came at Dain again, moving like a jerky puppet.

 Lord Omas charged between them, and alarm gave Dain the strength and breath hed been reaching 
for. 
Get back! he shouted in warning. Hes 
Lord Omass sword plunged through Gavrils midsection, but to little effect. Gavril stood there, 
impaled on the weapon, and merely blinked at Omas, who turned white and uttered a terrible curse. 
Omas jerked out his sword, and Gavril swayed, then focused on Dain and tried to attack him once 
more.

 Alexeika growled something and sprang up. With a mighty swing of Severgard, she hacked off 
Gavrils sword arm. Tanen-gard, still gripped by Gavrils severed hand, dropped to the floor. Dain 
weakly kicked it as far away as he could.

 Gavril, his stump leaking blood that was black and foul-smelling, swayed from side to side. His empty 
eyes stared at Dain and his remaining hand clenched and unclenched.

 By then the Agyas had surrounded them. Dain was pulled even farther back, and the warriors closed 


in on Gavril.

in on Gavril.

 She nodded, and plunged Severgard through Gavrils chest.

 His mouth opened in a soundless scream, and his dark blue eyes fastened on Dain. For a moment they 
almost regained their sanity, then he crumpled to the floor and moved no more. A terrible stench of 
burned flesh filled the air.

 Silence fell over the room, broken only by Dains hoarse breathing. The pain swept over him in waves 
now, and he struggled anew to stay conscious.

 The commander issued orders as he threw salt on Gavrils body with curses and the warriors crowded 
around Dain.

 My lady, the commander said, dropping to his knees beside Alexeika, who was now cradling Dain 
in her arms. How is he?

 She was weeping, some of her tears dripping on Dains face, and did not answer. When Lord Omas 
gently unbuckled Dains breastplate and cut open the back of his hauberk to expose the wound, their 
faces grew grave indeed.

 We must bind him quickly, Lord Omas said. He gave Dain a stricken look. My first test, and I 
failed your majesty. May Thod forgive me.

 Dain wanted to tell him hed not failed, but he couldnt find the breath. The commander, his braid 
beads clacking as he worked, swiftly pulled off his surcoat and cut it into strips, which he used to bind the 
wound tightly.

 Crying out, Dain felt himself sucked to the very precipice of unconsciousness, but he held on and did 
not completely pass out. A moment later, when he dragged open his eyes, feeling shaky and drenched 
with sweat, the men were arguing about how to best move him. Thum appeared, white-lipped and 
horrified, still holding a tattered length of tapestry in his hands.

 Dain! he said, kneeling down to grip Dams bloodstained fingers. Sweet Tomias, how came this to 
happen?

 Dain tried to smile at him. Gavril always hated me, he whispered, while Alexeika pressed her hand 
to his cheek.

 Do not talk, she said, tears shimmering in her blue-gray eyes. Please, please rest.

 Dain ignored her. Now hes finally struck down his ... hated pagan. A shudder passed through his 
body, and he gritted his teeth again the pain it aroused.

 Chesil Matkevskiet came running in. Majesty! he called out. Bad news! The usurpers

 Breaking off in mid-sentence, he stumbled to a halt and stared at Dain aghast. Aychi, nin a myt! he 
cried. This cannot be!

 What news? Dain whispered.

 Alexeika tried to shield him and gestured for Chesil to go away. Do not worry about it now. You 
must rest until a physician is found.

 But Dain shook his head, his gaze remaining on Chesil. What news?

 The youth had turned pale; his eyes were enormous. The general sends word that we must flee Grov 
at once. Its a trap. The usurpers army is coming.

 More commotion ensued. Dain felt a cold sweat break out over his body. At last, here was the battle 
hed vowed to take on, and now he was unable to do more than lift his head. A terrible feeling of doom 
sank through his bones, and he realized that he was on the brink of failing completely. Failing his father. 
Failing Pheresa. Failing these men, whod trusted him and followed him into this trap.

 Anger ran through him like fire, and he tried to sit up, gripping Alexeikas sleeve and hanging on with 
desperation while she tried to push him down.

 No, she was saying. No, you will only make yourself bleed more.

 Our forces are scattered across the city, Lord Omas said in dismay. 

By my order, Dain thought with fresh guilt. If they are caught in the city, theyll be massacred, he 


gasped out.

gasped out.

 Dain sighed. Should have known it was ... too easy. Chesil, dispatch messengers ... give the word. 
Must... retreat. He winced, knowing it meant defeat even if most of the men escaped alive.

 They are coming to Grov from three sides, Chesil reported. But Ill do my best to

 Wait! Alexeika said. Her eyes were dark with emotions, and she was trembling. Majesty, I have a 
confession to make. I

 Not now, Alexeika, Thum said impatiently.

 Ignoring him, she took Dains hand between hers. Sire, I am the betrayer.

 Dain blinked at her. Looking shocked, the others started asking questions, but he gestured for quiet. 
Explain.

 Fresh tears spilled down her face. Im sorry. Im sorry! she cried, and drew forth a cord from 
beneath her clothing. On it swung a ring, and as she pulled the cord over her head and held it out, Dain 
gasped sharply.

 What miracle is this? he whispered.

 Nay, I kept it from you. Even when I knew what it was, I kept it! she said in anguish. All that you 
needed most, I withheld.

 How did you come by this? How did you find it?

 In Gant, she said. When that man

 Sulein.

 Aye. When he fell down dead, I saw the Ring fall off his finger. I picked it up, knowing what it must 
be, but I kept it hidden from you. She bowed her head as Dain turned the Ring of Solder over and over 
in his fingers. I was a jealous fool. I thought only of myself. I know I cannot be forgiven, but let me use it 
now to get for you. Her eyes bored into his pleadingly. Let me do this last act in retribution before I 
am executed.

 What! Thum said, outraged. Trust her, after this? Let me get it for you, sire! 
Dain glanced up at his friend, so serious, so ready to serve although he did not understand what his 
offer entailed. 
Nay, sire, Lord Omas said. Let 
 Tis my responsibility, Dain broke in, closing his fingers tightly around the Ring. Inside, he was 
awash with a tangle of emotions. Why had Alexeika kept it from him all this time? Why? 
But there was not time to ask her reasons. He had one last chance to save his kingdom, to save them 
all. He knew he must take it. 
Chesil, he said, trying to make his voice sound stronger. Tell your father... tell Romsalkin ... they 

must hold off Mun-cels men as ... as long as they can.

 Majesty, I

 Dain glared at the distraught youth. Do as I command. Then tell Samderaudin that Ive gone to get . 
Go.

 Gulping, the youth ran.

 Dain gathered all his determination together. Sir Thum, I entrust Lady Pheresa to your care. Keep her 
safe. Give your life for hers, if you must.

 Thum looked as though he wanted to protest, but he bowed his head. I swear it, he said harshly.

 Lord Omas.

 Sire?

 Get me ... get me to my darsteed.

 The giants face sagged with worry, but in silence he gently picked Dain up, then carried him 
downstairs and outside into the freezing air. The cold revived Dain a little. He was still sweating, still 
subject to trembling fits he could not control, but his left arm was starting to feel numb now, and the 
previous blinding agony had diminished. He slid the Ring on his right forefinger, and it began to glow 
immediately. He felt the band grow warm against his flesh, and its presence heartened him. At the foot of 
the steps, Lord Omas set Dain tenderly on his feet and steadied him as he swayed. Dains head was 


spinning, and he did not think he could keep his balance.

spinning, and he did not think he could keep his balance.

 The darsteed was led up, bugling and slashing at anyone within reach. Seeing Dain, obviously sensing 
his weakness, it lunged at him with a vicious snap of its jaws, but Dain struck it with his mind.

 The darsteed reared in surprise. Abruptly docile, it dropped to all four feet and stood motionless with 
its head lowered. Only the rumbling in its nostrils betrayed its pent-up anger.

 Lord Omas lifted him into the saddle and held him there while Dain struggled to keep from tumbling 
off. His brief spurt of energy seemed to have failed him, and he could feel himself bleeding again inside his 
bindings.

 His courage sagged inside him, and he felt very, very tired. / cannot do this, he thought.

 But there was no one else to do it. Slowly he pulled himself erect in the saddle.

 Sire, I must go with you, Lord Omas said worriedly.

 Nay, you cannot accompany me on this journey. It will be quick, that I promise, Dain said to him. 
Swear to me that you will all hold fast.

 At that moment General Matkevskiet came galloping up on a lathered horse, his gray braids flying 
about his head as he reined up hard. Leaving us, sire? he called out scornfully.

 Lord Omas turned to glare at him. Hes going after .

 The general did not look appeased. Perhaps the son is more like the father than we would wish for. 
Look yon! He pointed across the city.

 Through a gap in the trees, Dain saw a spiral of smoke in the distant sky.

 Theyre coming! the general shouted breathlessly. Not just the usurpers troops, but half of Gant by 
the looks of em. And our leader is leaving.

 Ill be back, Dain said, knowing how this looked, how it sounded. You must hold only a short 
while.

 Thods bones! Why should we? We

 Because you must! Dain said harshly, cutting him off. He glared at the old man. You must! In the 
name of all that re-mains good, you must fight as youve never fought before. Gant means to invade 
Nether, and Mandria, and the world if it can. It means to destroy us all. We will stop it here. We must!

 They are twice, three times our number, Matkevskiet argued. We are trapped, doomed, unless we 
flee.

 If you take the cowards road, Dain said, then we are all surely lost to Ashnods dominion.

 I will stand, Lord Omas said.

 And I! called out the commander of the guards.

 And I! shouted another man, then more joined in, and more, until they were all shouting it.

 A lump filled Dains throat. He met Matkevskiets one good eye, waiting for the answer he had to 
have.

 Frustrated fury reddened the generals face. Then by Thod, see that youre quick. Bring us the 
miracle we need!

 Dain gathered his reins, braced himself, and gazed down at the Ring, which glowed brightly on his 
hand. He thought of and the place in Nold where it was hidden. Please Thod, let no one have moved 
it during all these years, he prayed.

 Stand back, he said to the men trying to hold the darsteed.

 As soon as the men jumped away, the beast whirled around so fast it nearly knocked Lord Omas off 
his feet. Hanging on by sheer determination, Dain gritted his teeth and spurred the animal into a gallop. As 
it bounded across the gardens, he sent all the force of his mind into the center of the Rings power. 

Chalice! he thought.

 And with a flash of golden light, he vanished into thin air, leaving only a trail of golden sparks behind 
him.

 A light drizzle was falling in the ravine where Dain materialized. Reeling in the saddle, flooded with 
waves of pain and nausea, he barely noticed that he was once again in the first world, until the darsteed 


tried to drag him off under a branch.

tried to drag him off under a branch.

 How easy it would be to just remain here, Dain mused, safe and far away from that danger. But he 
discarded the temptation in an instant. Wiping clammy perspiration from his forehead, he forced himself 
to get on with what hed come here to do.

 Gazing up at the hillside, he saw the ancient stone carving, blurred with the erosion of time and an 
overgrowth of lichen, that marked an old shrine. His heart leaped in his chest, and suddenly he was able 
to push his pain aside.

 He dismounted awkwardly, then met the darsteeds snapping jaws with a strong slam of his gloved fist 
and staggered away from the brute.

 The simple act of walking a few steps brought on fresh weakness. His head started swimming, and he 
could not seem to hold himself upright. Yet he struggled to keep planting one foot in front of the other, 
and thus splashed his way across a stream that ordinarily he could have jumped lightly over.

 Climbing the hillside was nearly impossible, even when he grabbed onto shtac saplings to pull himself 
forward. He could manage only one or two steps at a time without having to sit down to rest, breathing 
heavily all the while.

 The mouth of the shrine was only a few feet distant, but it looked far away. He could feel himself 
sinking into unconsciousness, and desperately fought to stay awake. If he swooned now, he would likely 
die, and so would his friends, and all the Netherans fighting in his name.

 I... will not... let Gavril kill... me! he vowed through gritted teeth.

 He crawled awkwardly forward, using his knees and one hand, his left arm clamped to his body to 
keep from moving his shoulder. Panting and sweating, he paused once to be sick, then forced himself 
onward.

 The hillside canted on him as though it would spill him off. Moaning, he clung tightly to some 
brambleswhich scratched his handsclenching shut his eyes until the wave of vertigo passed. Then he 
drew in several breaths and inched his way forward.

 Eventually the musty old smell of a trolk den reached his nostrils. Revived a little by the stink, he lifted 
his head and squinted, and was surprised to find himself almost in the very mouth of the cave.

 By force of habit, he picked up a small stick and hurled it weakly into the cave. If anything lurked in 
there, that would provoke it into coming out. Trolk he did not fear, for his keen sense of smell told him 
the scent was a false one. No doubt used in a protection spell long ago, its effect was fading with the 
passage of time.

 Hurting, he half-crawled, half-scooted himself inside the cave, rested a moment, then ventured deeper.

 It was a shallow place. Hed expected to find it running deep into the hillside, but instead it formed a 
small, roughly circular room. The ceiling was tall enough to allow him to stand, had he been capable of 
doing so.

 Pausing on the cold, slightly damp ground, Dain looked around through the gloom. Almost no light 
filtered inside, yet it seemed as though the shadows were dissipating a bit. Glancing down, he saw the 
Ring glowing white on his finger. It cast about the same amount of light as a glowstone, and when he lifted 
his hand its radiance strengthened enough to dimly illuminate the cave.

 Near the back wall, he saw a V-shaped fissure about halfway up. He frowned, remembering how his 
father had once stood there. Thats where had been left.

 Only it wasnt there now.

 Disappointment crashed through him. Gone, he thought dully. Someone had found it, taken it. Who? 
Where was it now? Why had the finder not proclaimed it?

 He felt his strength and determination trickling from him like the blood seeping down his back. No, 


he moaned. Great Thod, no.

he moaned. Great Thod, no.

 Yet something inside him would not let him wallow in this self-pity. He thought of his father, whod 
destroyed himself trying to keep safe. He thought of his mother, poisoned by villains. He thought of Thia, 
born a royal princess but raised in a dwarfs burrow. He thought of Lord Odfrey, whod been the first 
man to show him kindness. He thought of King Verence, whod taught him how to be a king. He thought 
of Sir Terent, a Mandrian who had sworn fealty to him and followed him unto death. He thought of Thum 
and Alexeika, both friends on whom hed come to rely so heavily.

 And the anger in his heart against Alexeika faded. Lying there, he simply let it go. Had she given him 
the Ring the day she found it, would still have not been here.

 Of course, now her moods made sense. He understood why shed been so upset the day hed 
knighted her and given her a hauberk and spurs. Her tears and prickly temper sprang from guilt, festering 
in her heart all that time. Why shed done it did not matter; her change of heart had redeemed her.

 He thought of Gavril, whod come into the Dark Forest on a quest to find . Gavril, whod lost first his 
faith and then his soul and finally his life, because of too much arrogant pride and a tainted sword he 
could not relinquish.

 As for Pheresa, Dain regretted he could not save her. Hed wanted to make her grateful to him, to turn 
her love from Gavril to him. Hed thought that if he could bring her a cure he would win her heart. But it 
was no good to force love from gratitude.

 Besides, he hadnt saved her, hadnt been the big hero hed longed to be.

 Nay, hed done what his father had doneabandoned his people and vanished. Were they cursing his 
name now, while they were dying?

 He would go back to them, he vowed. Although he returned without , he would stand with them to 
meet his death in combat. In some ways, hed been just as arrogant, foolish, and overconfident as Gavril. 
But he would go back to his people, empty-handed, and stand with them to the last.

 Sighing, he forced himself to sit up. As he waited for the cave to stop spinning, he noticed a few 
scattered stones on the ground, as well as some sticks propped against the wall.

 Another dim memory came to him. His father had knelt there once on the moist soil and placed those 
stones just so. Thia had helped him. Then theyd prayed together.

 For his familys honor, Dain decided to do the same before he left.

 Gasping, he crawled forward and slowly, one by one, placed the stones in a circle. The sticks had 
been peeled of their bark long ago. They had darkened with age and no longer gleamed white, but they 
were ash and therefore sacred. He ran his hand up and down their lengths, cleaning dirt and cobwebs off 
them, before he crossed them carefully. He had no Element candles to light, no bronze knives of ritual, no 
bell, and no green vines, but he did have salt He took out a small handful from his salt purse and poured it 
carefully in a thin white line just inside the stone circle. When that was done, he knelt, feeling clammy and 
weak and very tired, and uttered the simple prayer that Thia had taught him when he was little. He even 
said the nonsense words they used to say afterwards, nonsense words that he now recognized as 
Netheran and sacred.

 Then he lifted his gaze upward. Forgive me, O Thod, he prayed simply, his heart pouring out its 
trouble. Forgive me for the sin of pride. I wanted to prove to all men that I could do better than my 
father. I was angry with him for deserting us, and I meant to prove myself his superior. I am not. I am 
merely a man who tried but could not do all that I meant to... just like my father.

 Closing his eyes, he bowed his head and let the silence soak through him. 

Turn around.

 The voice echoed through his mind, and made his heart jump in fear. He opened his eyes with a gasp, 
not certain hed heard rightly. Yet the voice had been clear.

 Not yet willing to think that Thod might have actually spoken to him, Dain turned his head and looked 
behind him.

 The cave was suddenly filled with radiant white light. His heart started pounding rapidly in his chest. 


He looked around, then stared at the rough rock wall and decided the light seemed to be brightest there.

He looked around, then stared at the rough rock wall and decided the light seemed to be brightest there.

 Trembling with the shock of his discovery, he stared at it in disbelief. Then he reached out an unsteady 
hand, and let his fingers brush along the vessels side. The metal felt warm to his touch, as though it were 
alive.

 He heards song chiming inside the metal. It was a song of hope, peace, and purity. A song of healing 
and strength. Awed, he reached down and reverently picked it up.

 As he held it aloft, its light streamed down over him in rivers of brightness until his head and body 
glowed with it. He felt his wound close, the festering evil left by Tanengard cleansed away. Strength 
returned to his limbs, and his exhaustion faded.

 My son, a deep voice said quietly from behind him.

 Startled, Dain turned around, and found himself staring at Tobeszijian. The ghost king looked almost 
solid in the light cast by . Standing in his armor and spurs, his sword belted at his hip, he stood tall and 
somber, staring at his son.

 Dain swallowed hard. Father.

 You have done well in all that has been set before you.

 Dain frowned, feeling as though he did not deserve such praise. My reasons were wrong, he 
confessed. I

 You have done well, Tobeszijian said. Now you must face the greatest task of all.

 Yes, Dain agreed. I must go back to them quickly.

 Tobeszijians pale eyes bored into Dain. When we talked before, I told you that a kings sword 
should be passed to his son. Now the time has come.

 But you cant do that, Dain said.

 Tobeszijian frowned. God-steel does not belong in the first world. It was never meant to be left there, 
or to be used by mortals.

 Dain thought of the bowl hed stolen from the Chief Believer and lost when he was submerged in the 
Charva River. Now he glanced down at Truthseeker hanging at his hip. It had become a part of him. He 
could not imagine life without it. Or battle. I couldnt have escaped Gant without this sword.

 It has served you well. But it is wrong to keep it past its purpose.

 But Lord Odfrey told me his ancestor was given the weapon as a reward.

 So was he told, but tis untrue. Many tales change and grow false through centuries of retelling. 
Truthseeker was taken as plunder by Odfreys ancestor.

 Dain frowned. But Lord Odfrey told me this sword was holy and to be kept with honor.

 Was it honorable for Lord Odfrey to hide it from all?

 He brought it out at my trial, Dain argued.

 Concealed beneath a cloth. He kept it hidden, spoke little of it, feared it. This is not honorable, my 
son.

 Dain swallowed more protests. Have I been dishonorable with it? he asked humbly.

 Only once.

 And Dain knew instantly that his father referred to his showing off by breaking Matkevskiets scimitar. 
Ashamed, he walked silently to the rear of the cave and placed in the fissure. Then he slowly unbuckled 
his sword belt.

 Reluctance filled him, and he thought of Samderaudins warning about having to choose between 
Truthseeker and something else. He did not want to relinquish this magnificent sword. Hed bonded with 
it in combat. He knew its song well.

 Yet with a sudden chill he thought of Gavril, and remembered how the princes obsession with 
Tanengard had led him to tragedy. No possession should ever become that precious, he thought.

 And he laid Truthseeker in its scabbard on the ground inside the circle of stones and salt.

 Truly you have learned wisdom, Tobeszijian said.

 Dain turned back to him and saw his father grown smaller and dimmer as though fading away. But 


Mirengard lay on the ground, gleaming with life and beauty.

Mirengard lay on the ground, gleaming with life and beauty.

 Pick it up, Tobeszijian told him.

 When he obeyed, the sword felt solid in his hands. He lifted it, marveling at how this could happen, yet 
suddenly anything seemed possible under the power of . He curled his fingers around the hilt, and felt it 
ply itself to fit his hand. Warmth flashed between it and his palm, and the sword sang to him, sweet and 
high. Unlike the dwarf-made swords Dain had known all his life, this weapon was eldin-forged. It sang of 
truth and justice and nobility of spirit. It felt light and perfectly balanced in his hand. Instantly he 
understood what his father had been trying to tell him. Although hed adapted to Truthseeker and learned 
to use it boldly, he remembered back to the first few days when handling it had been almost frightening.

 God-steel really isnt for mortals to own, he said now. Is it?

 Nay. It can come to possess you, give you false confidence, lead you down paths you should not 
follow. Mirengard will never possess you, never fail you, never tempt you wrongly. Use it well, my son. 
Use it for justice and right.

 I shall, Dain promised, his throat suddenly choked.

 There is more, Tobeszijian said. He pointed behind Dain. Dain turned around, but saw nothing. Then 
light seemed to flash, dazzling his eyes. He squinted and blinked and suddenly there lay at his feet the 
breastplate of embossed gold, its hammer and lightning bolt gleaming brightly. Dain gasped in amazement 
at such a gift, and as soon as he picked it up he felt its power go tingling through his hands, for like 
Mirengard, it was magicked.

 Dain buckled it on with excitement, hung Mirengard on his belt, and faced Tobeszijian, feeling for the 
first time that he truly was a king.

 Father! he said with a smile, then stopped in dismay, for Tobeszijian looked dimmer and mistier than 
ever. He was fading away, and Dain was not yet ready to let him go.

 I can do no more for you, Tobeszijian said softly. I can do no more. Farewell.

 Wait! Dain called out to him. Please... what can I do for you, Father? How can I help you?

 Go to your army. Help Nether, for it needs you sorely now.

 Aye, Dain agreed. But are you not Nether also?

 Tobeszijian was barely visible now, but Dain saw him smile. His pale, stern face was transformed 
completely, and he came closer once more.

 Would you do this? he asked eagerly.

 Dain spread out his hands. Ask whatever you wish.

 Let me ride into battle one last time ... with you, Tobeszijian said. Let me be inside you, a part of 
you, guiding you. Let me take my revenge on Muncel. Let me return also to my people, as I once 
promised to do.

 Tears burned Dains eyes. He thought of the long years Tobeszijian had existed in his terrible, lonely 
limbo, and how much pain lay in that request. Although he did not understand how it could be done, he 
could not refuse.

 Of course, Father, he said. How is it to be done?

 Tobeszijian walked forward and silently stepped into him. Dain felt himself sway, then there was 
Tobeszijians mind wrapped around his. His body felt strangestill strong, but not like his at all. Yet 
when Dain glanced down at his hands he recognized them for his own, down to the old scars on his 
knuckles and the new callus on his thumb.

 They shared no thoughts. There was no internal discussion, yet Dain felt as though his spirit and 
Tobeszijians had somehow become one. 
He took from its niche and tucked it beneath his cloak to protect it from the drizzle outside. Then he 
walked away from the cave, and did not let himself look back.

 Outside, the leafless trees with their rain-darkened bark seemed in sharper focus than ever before. The 
gloomy clouds overhead dragged their bellies on the topmost branches, and the drizzle quickly became a 
downpour. 


 The darsteed stood where hed left it. As Dain came down the hillside, it flung up its narrow head and 
glared at him with red eyes, snorting uncertainly. It backed up a step as though it did not recognize him, 
yet the merest touch of his mind forced it to obey.

 The darsteed stood where hed left it. As Dain came down the hillside, it flung up its narrow head and 
glared at him with red eyes, snorting uncertainly. It backed up a step as though it did not recognize him, 
yet the merest touch of his mind forced it to obey.

 Home, he said, and in a flash he was there.

 The transition was too abrupt, too sudden to comprehend at once. In one blink he had left the 
rain-soaked forest of Nold behind and was suddenly in the snow-covered meadow outside Grov, 
surrounded on all sides by men shrieking and fighting with all their might.

 Dains arrival in a golden shower of sparks caused the men fighting close by to break off and stagger 
back. Even the Believers paused to stare.

 He sat there astride the flame-snorting darsteed, clad in the gold breastplate and shimmering with a 
bright radiance that streamed from him to puddle momentarily on the ground, melting the snow wherever 
it touched down. As Dain drew his new sword, it flashed blinding white, and its radiance obviously 
dazzled the closest Believers, who groaned and flinched away, some even shielding their eyes with their 
hands. The darsteed reared high, bugling for battle, and Dain spied his royal banner flying next to a 
solitary tree of massive and ancient girth.

 Fearlessly, Dain aimed the darsteed in that direction and went galloping through the midst of the men, 
forcing them to break off their fighting and jump out of his way. A few Believers who werent frozen with 
astonishment tried to stop him, but their weapons seemed unable to touch him.

 It wass presence, he knew.

 Boldly he galloped right through the heart of the battlefield, with man after man stumbling out of his 
way. Then cheering came in his wake, a rousing wave in the distance that swelled ever louder behind him. 
The Netheran knights and Agya warriors shouted and brandished their weapons.

 Faldain! Faldain! they shouted with new hearts and restored courage.

 Reaching the tree and the banners streaming from their poles, Dain saw Romsalkin and Matkevskiet, 
protected within a spell circle cast by Samderaudin. They stared at him in astonishment.

 Without a word, Dain wheeled the darsteed around and let it rear again. As it did so, he pulled out 
from beneath his cloak and held it aloft for all the army to see.

 The cheering swelled to new heights, rising to a frenzy now.

 Dain looked over his shoulder, knowing that all the encouragement this gave his men would more than 
be matched by the furious determination of the Gantese to capture it,

 A priest! he shouted. Here. Take it with reverence. He leaned down to hand to a bearded old 
man whod come running forth to take it. The priest was crying openly, and his hands trembled so that 
Dain feared he might drop the sacred vessel. Fill it with water, and see that the Lady Pheresa drinks 
from it at once, he commanded.

 Yes, your majesty, the priest answered, sinking to his knees.

 Romsalkin, Dain said. Go with him. Guard with your life.

 The old lord drew himself to his fullest height. His eyes were shining, even as Lord Omas came 
galloping up wild-eyed.

 Your majesty! he shouted in disbelief. You are whole again, but how

 Never mind, Dain snapped, seeing the Gantese forces charging anew. Their war cries rang in his 
ears. Stay with me.

 Aye, sire.

 Matkevskiet! Dain said to the general. Stop hiding here under spells and get out your trumpet. I 
want your warriors redeployed.

 Matkevskiet was staring at him in openmouthed wonder. He looked as though hed never seen Dain 
before, and yet as though he knew him well but could not believe his eyes.

 Divide them, Dain said, certain something in his voice or manner was now like Tobeszijians. Send 
a wedge charging straight into the heart of their right flank. Thats where the Nonkind are, and that is their 
weakness.

 Surely that is their strength. 


 Their strength lies in the magemons surrounding Muncel, Dain said crisply. The rest of your 
warriors I want with me. I intend to cut a path to Muncel. Get to it! 
Matkevskiet wheeled his charger around and raised his horn to his lips in a series of sharp blats that 
only the Agyas understood. 
Dain turned to Samderaudin. Is protection all you can do? he asked. Or can you hurl fire spells and 
cyclones at them? To confuse them, to keep the worst of the Nonkind off the men? 
But the sorcerel was staring at him. Instead of answering Dains question, he said, So this is the 
choice youve made. This is the path youve chosen. The riskiest one of all. Welcome home, my liege.

 Their strength lies in the magemons surrounding Muncel, Dain said crisply. The rest of your 
warriors I want with me. I intend to cut a path to Muncel. Get to it! 
Matkevskiet wheeled his charger around and raised his horn to his lips in a series of sharp blats that 
only the Agyas understood. 
Dain turned to Samderaudin. Is protection all you can do? he asked. Or can you hurl fire spells and 
cyclones at them? To confuse them, to keep the worst of the Nonkind off the men? 
But the sorcerel was staring at him. Instead of answering Dains question, he said, So this is the 
choice youve made. This is the path youve chosen. The riskiest one of all. Welcome home, my liege.

 Lord Omas rode with him, shouting defiance at the top of his considerable lungs. Together they met 
the foremost Believers, and were soon surrounded and fighting with all their strength and prowess. They 
were outnumbered far too greatly to prevail, and Dain had a tricky time at first in adjusting to the balance 
and heft of Mirengard, much less its failure to hack through the fire-knights obsidian armor. 

Stop fighting the sword, came a voice in his mind. Let it fight for you.

 And then he got the knack of it and settled himself into the song and rhythm of a magicked sword 
untainted and pure.

 Moments later, more Netherans joined him and Lord Omas, helping to drive the fire-knights back. 
During a moment of respite, Dain glanced around and saw the Agyas coming at a full gallop toward him, 
with the general at their head. Grethori, screaming at the top of their lungs over a dreadful screech of war 
pipes, rode behind them.

 Dain did not wait for them to catch up, but spurred the darsteed forward. We go to Muncel! he 
shouted.

 At first they cut through the thin Gantese defenses easily, but the Believers rallied and began to 
concentrate in front of them, holding them away from Muncel. Dains charge slowed, and then practically 
stopped. They fought their way through, one foot at a time, trampling over the bodies of the fallen and 
driving their foes slowly back. And now Dain found himself fighting Netheran knights as often as he 
fought Believers. There was a terrible desperation in their faces as they saw him and forced themselves to 
attack. They had sold themselves to the wrong side in this civil war, and they knew it. Although they 
fought, often they had little heart in it. As some were quickly slain, others began to throw down their arms 
and flee.

 It was a trickle of desertion at first, then a stream. More and more of Muncels knights fled the field. 
Dain was close enough now to see his uncle standing beneath an awning, shaking his fist and screaming at 
the deserters. Hurlhounds chased after them, bringing many down.

 But the Believers did not flee. They grew fiercer than ever, and now they were joined by Nonkind 
troops, shambling, dead-eyed men, some with lolling heads, all mindlessly stabbing and chopping under 
the direction of the Believers who controlled them.

 Mirengard cut them down so easily it was sickening. As quickly as he could, Dain broke through their 
line, and suddenly there were no more knights ahead of him. The darsteed raced right up to the very 
boundaries of the protection spell shimmering around Muncel and his generals.

 For the first time in his life, Dain came face-to-face with his uncle. He saw a sour-faced man with a 
cowards eyes, stooped in posture, and filled with hatred.

 A rage not his own filled Dain. He wanted to seize this man by the throat and throttle the life from him. 
Realizing that these were his fathers feelings rather than his, Dain pointed his gory sword at Muncel.

  Tis over! he shouted. Surrender now or

 Nay, pretender! Muncel shouted back. You have lost by coming here.

 My men are defeating your monsters, Dain said. Your Netheran knights have already deserted you. 
Soon youll be

 You have lost! Muncel shouted, shaking his fists and laughing wildly. They said you would come to 
the trap, and so you have. You always do, foolish boy. 


 Dain frowned, staring at the man in puzzlement, for he saw no trap. Lord Omas caught up with him, 
and the rest of his men were breaking through now. But a cyclone suddenly spun into existence between 
Dain and his men, cutting off the Agyas. The trap he had not seen sprang shut.

 Dain frowned, staring at the man in puzzlement, for he saw no trap. Lord Omas caught up with him, 
and the rest of his men were breaking through now. But a cyclone suddenly spun into existence between 
Dain and his men, cutting off the Agyas. The trap he had not seen sprang shut.

 In a flash, he remembered the two previous times hed felt this way, as though he were sinking into a 
place where all the life was being drained from him.

 The Chief Believer has no need for you now, Muncel said with glee, rubbing his hands together. 
When I give him you have brought from hiding, his Great Plan will be accomplished without you. And 
now these magemons can complete their spell, as they promised me. You are dead, pretender! Dead!

 At last Dain understood what Samderaudin had meant by the last part of his prophecy, about the 
reach of Ashnod being long, about the consequences of exchanging Truthseeker which had protected 
him from this spellfor Mirengard, which could not.

 The terrible coldness sank through his limbs. It slowed his heart, smothered his lungs. Gritting his teeth, 
he spurred the darsteed forward, intending to strike Muncel down, but the darsteed took no more than a 
couple of steps before it stopped and would not budge.

 Sire! Lord Omas yelled in alarm. Whats amiss? What are they doing to you?

 Attack, Dain commanded.

 Lord Omas charged the magemons, only to be knocked from his saddle by an invisible force.

 Despite his efforts to resist, Dain felt his life being stolen bit by bit. His energy drained from him until he 
could no longer stay astride the darsteed. He felt himself sway, then the next thing he knew was the jolt of 
impact as he hit the snow-trampled ground. Lying there, certain this was the end, he used all he had left 
to keep his grip on Mirengard.

 Muncel walked up to him, the hem of his long, fur-trimmed robes dragging on the snow. He wore red 
leather slippers with long pointed toes. The man was not even dressed for war, Dain thought in disgust. 
Chances were hed never fought in a battle in his life.

 And now you die, spawn of my half-brother and his blasphemous slut. You are the last of the mixed 
blood tainting my ancestral line. Nether is finally free of you, as it will soon be free of all eldin. He kicked 
Dain in the head. Now die!

 But although the coldness still dragged through Dains limbs, rendering him weak and sluggish, he 
didnt die as he was supposed to. He reached out, gripped Muncels foot, and hung on for dear life. 
Muncel jerked his foot, but was unable to pull free of Dains grasp. Kill him! he shouted at the 
magemons. Tulvak Sahm, why does he not die? 
The sorcerel, hovering nearby, craned his neck to peer at Dain without coming closer. He is not what 

he appears to be. The fates have changed.

 What? Muncel glared at him. What do you mean?

 But the sorcerel simply pressed his long hands together and vanished into thin air.

 Muncels mouth fell open, and he shook his fist. Come back! Damne! You there! he said, beckoning 
to his protector. Give me your sword. Ill deal with this puppy myself.

 But the mans eyes were bulging with terror. He turned and ran away.

 Cursing him, Muncel tried again to twist his foot from Dains grasp, but Dain could feel his strength 
seeping back. He tightened his fingers and would not let go.

 Muncel reached down and grabbed Mirengard from Dains hand. This should have been mine as 
well, he muttered, then a scream burst from his throat, and he dropped the sword in the snow. His 
hands were on fire, the skin blistering and charring as the flames burned higher. Frantically he beat them 
against himself, but only set his clothing on fire. Dain released his foot, and he flung himself to the ground, 
rolling over and over and screaming horribly. The flames would not go out.

 His generals and protector stared openmouthed, then fled.

 Dain knew this was his chance. He scrambled clumsily to his feet, still hampered by the spell, which 


could not kill him but held him weak. Although lifting Mirengard seemed to take more strength than he 
had, he staggered over to the magemons and plunged his sword into the nearest of the three.

could not kill him but held him weak. Although lifting Mirengard seemed to take more strength than he 
had, he staggered over to the magemons and plunged his sword into the nearest of the three.

 As they went up like kindling, still screaming, the last vestiges of their spell dropped away so suddenly 
he staggered.

 Lord Omas caught him with a steadying arm. Sire! Great Thod, are you all right?

 Dain grinned at him, blinking as he realized Tobeszijians presence had saved his life. Aye, he said. 
Lets get back to the rest of this battle.

 The cyclone which had fended off the Agyas vanished, and they came rushing up to stare, hard-faced 
and unsympathetic, at Muncel, who was still burning alive.

 It was a horrible death, but Dain knew of no way to hasten the end for him. He looked at that 
agonized face, still visible through the flames, and thought of how his mother must have died, suffering in 
agony, deserted by her court and friends, as the eld-poison ate her alive.

 Majesty, the battle is turning against us! one of the Agyas shouted.

 Dain looked where he pointed and saw the rebel forces falling back beneath another onslaught of 
Believers. Cursing, Dain sprang onto his darsteed and wrenched the animal around.

 Lets to it! he shouted.

 But even as he spurred his mount forward, he did not know whether they could prevail. His forces 
were tiring. Many lay dead. Despite the desertions, there were still plenty of Believers, far too many.

 Then there came the loud wailing of horns in the distance, horns Dain had not heard in a long time. He 
looked around, refusing to believe his ears, as suddenly a new army appeared at the edge of the 
meadow.

 Reining up hard, Dain stared with his heart pounding. He did not want to hope, did not want to believe 
falsely. 
Beside him, Lord Omas stood up in his stirrups. Thods mercy, he said in despair. What is this 
come against us? 
The new army seemed to fill the horizon. With drums pounding and banners flying proudly, they 

marched forward, emerging from the forest and heading for title rear lines of the Gantese forces.

 Dain kept staring. Snow had begun to fall in tiny spits of ice. He couldnt see clearly. Couldnt be sure.

 Sir Thum, spattered with gore from head to foot, came galloping up with a wild yell that startled Lord 
Omas.

 Uplanders! he shouted, grinning at Dain. Mandrians! Look yon, sire! I see Thirsts banner flying, 
and Lunts, and Carcels, and lowland banners as well. And there! There! Do you see it?

 Dain looked, and at last saw the royal, purple and gold pennon of Mandria flying proudly above the 
others. And there, at the head of the army, rode an upright figure, broad-shouldered and breastplated in 
gold.

 King Verence, Dain said in wonder. He has brought his army. 
Thum whooped like a crazed man while the Agyas stared in astonishment. Now see some real 
knights in action! he shouted just as the distant orders rang out. The Mandrians began their charge. 
Shaking off his amazement, Dain called out orders to his men. Now is the time to strike hard, while 
these fiends are caught between us. For Nether! he shouted, making his darsteed rear. 
At that moment the clouds parted and a pale shaft of sun-light came down. It shone over Mirengard as 
Dain held it aloft, and the blade flashed brightly for all to see.

 They rejoined the battle, chanting their war cries as they charged the rattled Believers. Soon thereafter, 
the combat finally ended. The air hung heavy with the stench of burned and salted Nonkind. The last of 
the Believers had either galloped out of sight or been taken prisoner and lined up in long rows, where 
grim-faced Netherans executed them one by one.

 Twilight began to draw shadows across the meadow. The air lay still and very cold. Dain, weary to the 
bone and sticky with dried blood and gore, made his way back to the massive tree. He dismounted, his 


legs feeling wooden, his mind numb. Rom-salkin, beaming from ear to ear, bellowed orders, and a chair 
and a cup of wine were brought for Dain. He quaffed down the liquid without tasting it, sighed, and 
pulled off his gloves. But he knew he could not rest yet. There was still something else to be done.

legs feeling wooden, his mind numb. Rom-salkin, beaming from ear to ear, bellowed orders, and a chair 
and a cup of wine were brought for Dain. He quaffed down the liquid without tasting it, sighed, and 
pulled off his gloves. But he knew he could not rest yet. There was still something else to be done.

 Omas looked blank. Indeed, I know not, sire. He turned and called out, Lord Romsalkin, is this the 
Tree of Life?

 Dains mind was spinning with a hundred details. Muncel, his flames put out at last by Samderaudin, 
lay salted among the dead, his slain officers beside him. Dain had no idea if Pheresa had been attended to 
properly. He hadnt seen Alexeika during the entire battle and was worried about what had become of 
her. There was still King Verence to find and thank properly, before Dain delivered the terrible news 
about Gavril.

 Yet before he could do anything else, he had one task that overrode them all. He could feel a terrible 
sense of urgency beginning to burn inside him. I must know, he said.

 Romsalkin stared at him, then the old tree. Its branches were gnarled and stunted. At one time part of 
it had split, leaving a gaping hole high in the upper part of the trunk. When Dain put his bare hand on the 
rough bark, he felt no life in it, not even dormancy.

 The eldin told me the Tree of Life was dead, he said. Does no one know if this is it?

 Aye, majesty, said an old, quavery voice. It belonged to one of the priests. Stooped and 
white-headed, he limped forward. So says the legend. Twas under these branches that the eldin 
worshiped long ago, before the First Circle was made by men and eld-folk. All kings of Nether, save the 
usurper, did vow to protect this tree.

 Dain drew a deep breath, listening to what spoke inside him. Then I must be alone, he said, and 
swept them all with his gaze. Leave me for a few minutes.

 They stood there, staring at him with concern. It was Lord Omas who finally began to shoo them 
away. You heard his majesty. Withdraw. Give him the privacy he needs.

 Muttering and uncertain, they backed away, Romsalkin included. Lord Omas would not even let a 
squire come up to light the cressets. And he himself retreated a short distance from Dain, close enough to 
help if wanted, but not intruding.

 In the distance came a stir and the noise of several voices. Pages ran through the crowd of Netherans, 
crying out, Make way for King Verence!

 Dain ignored the approach of the Mandrian party. Tobeszi-jian had to be attended to first.

 He knelt at the base of the old tree, not yet fully understanding what he was to do. Despite the noise 

and commotion behind him as Lord Omas held the Mandrians back, Dain bowed his head. 
Tobeszijians spirit slipped from him, and for a moment Dain saw his fathers ghostly visage 
shimmering at him in the gloom. 
I came back, he whispered. The people will never know it, but thanks to your help, my son, I came 

back to them.

 Father

 You have done well, Tobeszijian said. I am proud of you.

 Wait, Dain said quickly. Let the people see you

 You will make a good king. And with that, Tobeszijian sank into the soil.

 A feeling of peace swept through Dain, and he understood that his father was finally at rest.

 There was no need to grieve, but still Dain bowed his head and placed his hands on the bark of the 
gnarled roots atop the ground. He knew that he would never again see visions of his father. He 
understood that Tobeszijians spirit wandered no longer between worlds. He had gone to the third world 
now, perhaps to be reunited with his wife and daughter. And Dain was left alone to build his own life 
anew.

 Look! someone shouted. What is that? Look!

 Torchlight suddenly flared from behind Dain, shining on him.

 Frowning, he rose to his feet and turned around. But the people were not looking at him now. Instead 
they were staring at the branches above his head, pointing and shouting in amazement. 


 Tipping back his head, Dain stared at one of the lower branches, for it had leafed out despite the cold 
and snow. Suddenly it was green with renewed life. Astonished, he pressed his hand to the bark. He 
could now feel the low, quiet, slumberous life of a tree in dormancy.

 Tipping back his head, Dain stared at one of the lower branches, for it had leafed out despite the cold 
and snow. Suddenly it was green with renewed life. Astonished, he pressed his hand to the bark. He 
could now feel the low, quiet, slumberous life of a tree in dormancy.

 The old priest came up beside him, and even Samderaudin drew near as though to listen. It is the way 
of all eldin, your majesty, the priest said with shining eyes. Where they dwell, so do all things know life 
and renewal. The eldin can bring even dead wood back to life. Tis their gift.

 Dain frowned at him, his momentary joy sobered. He looked past the priest to the crowd of men 
standing a short distance away. Even the Mandrians had fallen quiet, content to stare, many of them 
drawing the sign of the Circle on their breasts.

 I am more eldin than man, Dain said, and his voice rang out loudly enough for all to hear. My birth 
caused a great division in our land. There were many then who did not want to serve an eldin king. What 
say you now?

 They burst into cheers, roaring his name, and Dain had his answer.

 Several days later, Dain stood in one of his palaces state chambers. Although the room was minimally 
furnished, it was warmed by a fire burning in a colorful tile stove. Dain wore a tunic of burgundy and a 
narrow gold circlet adorned his brow. Before him stood Lady Pheresa, still very thin and pale, but 
recovered fully.

 She wore a borrowed gown of hard-spun wool and a fur cloak of sables tipped with ermine. Her 
reddish-gold hair was pulled back neatly. A dainty gold Circle hung at her throat. Her brown eyes were 
grave, for King Verence planned to leave Nether this day. Gavrils body, wrapped in a shroud, and 
carefully frozen so that it could make the long journey, was being taken home for state burial in a tomb at 
Savroix.

 It seemed there had been one interruption after another, but at last this morning Dain had won a few 
minutes in private with the lady. Now that she was here, and they were alone, with even Lord Omas 
standing outside at the door, Dain found himself with little to say.

 She watched him, her eyes brimming with many emotions. Gratitude was perhaps the most evident, 
and the one he least wanted to see.

 Thank you for saving my life, she said. Her quiet, melodic voice, once able to send desire racing 
through his veins, now sounded too compliant, too quiet. Words seem inadequate to express what I 
feel. I owe you everything.

 No, he said stiffly, finding himself tongue-tied and awkward. There is no debt, my lady. From the 
bottom of my heart I regret every day that you suffered.

 My suffering was not your fault, she said. She tilted her head to one side and studied him for a long 
moment. You came to me once, with your heart in your hands, and I treated you ill. I regret that now.

 Heat stole into his face, and he swiftly averted his gaze from hers. He felt choked. How many times 
had he dreamed of such a moment, when she would turn to him this way? And now... and now, he did 
not want her. Suddenly, as though chains had dropped from him, he knew the truth. He no longer loved 
her, if he ever had. A boys infatuation was a far cry from a mans love. Shed been a dream for him, but 
now he was awake.

 Im sorry, my lady, he replied, anxious to end this embarrassing interview. We seem always to be 
at cross-purposes. Your gratitude will pass quickly enough. Do not mistake it for some other emotion.

 She frowned, drawing in her breath sharply. You no longer love me.

 Her bluntness surprised him. Before her illness, she would have never spoken so plainly. Yet the only 
thing to do was to offer her the same directness. Nay, my lady, except in friendship.

 Oh. Tears shimmered briefly in her eyes, and she half-turned away from him.  Tis a pity, she said 
with bravado. We could have united Mandria and Nether in an invincible alliance, two great kingdoms 
joined against

 Nether is not great at present, he said swiftly. There is much to rebuild.

 And you do not want my help, she replied softly, her brown eyes lifting to his.

 He returned her gaze steadily but said nothing. 


 She blushed. I was a fool that night of the Harvest Ball, so ambitious and stupid. I wanted to be 
queen, and Gavril was my means to that. Alas, although Gavril is gone, I still want to be queen.

 She blushed. I was a fool that night of the Harvest Ball, so ambitious and stupid. I wanted to be 
queen, and Gavril was my means to that. Alas, although Gavril is gone, I still want to be queen.

 She stared at him wide-eyed before she sighed. No one believes I am capable. The court despises 
me. The king used to pay me little heed. And now with Gavril gone, he hardly notices me at all.

 Taking her delicate hands in his, Dain felt as though he could crush her fragile bones if he were not 
careful. Yet despite her apparent frailty, there was a new fire and purpose in her gaze that hed never 
seen before.

 Very gently he kissed her on the cheek. Make Vw- tice you. Take hold of what is due you and do 
not relinquish it. You are wise and good, far more clever than anyone at Savroix has given you credit for. 
And were you not very tough and courageous, you could not have survived this.

 She gave him a tremulous smile.

 Stop hiding your true self, Pheresa, he said, and show people your steel.

 I will, she said softly, and withdrew her hands from his. Her chin lifted. I will.

 Then we part as friends? he asked.

 Her smile brightened as she curtsied. Friends. I will never forget you, Faldain of Nether.

 He bowed in return. Nor I you, Pheresa of Mandria.

 Soon thereafter, he met with King Verence. Grief-stricken, his eyes reddened and sad, Verence was 
departing Nether today while there was a favorable break in the weather.

 Because of Dains tremendous liking and admiration for Verence, he deeply felt his suffering now. 
Verence had genuinely loved his son, loved and spoiled him, loved and forgiven too many faults.

 Quietly Dain said, I owe you a tremendous debt which I can never fully repay. But tell me how I may 
try.

 Verence frowned. His graying blond hair fell softly to his shoulders, held back by a narrow crown. His 
coat of arms, embroidered in gold thread, glittered on the front of his purple surcoat. Nay, he said 
gruffly, withdrawing his hand. Do not speak to me of debts. You owe none.

 But you saved the battle.

 You owe none! Verence said sharply. I came to pay Mun-cels ransom demand with my sword, 
and by Thod, I did so. My only regret is that I could not finish him myself.

 That duty was mine, Dain said simply. I am sorry you must depart in such sorrow.

 Verence frowned. I came to bring my son home. That will I do.

 I wish it did not end this way, Dain said.

 You are kindhearted as always, Verence told him, summoning a wan smile. We both know how 
Gavril treated you. What he was. What he was becoming. He would have made a bad king. Alas, Dain, I 
feel old today. I should have sired more sons.

 You still have a successor, Dain said quietly, if you will but see her qualities.

 Verence looked at him in startlement. Pheresa? he asked.

 Shes your niece, a member of the royal house. Do you think Mandria would not accept a queen in 
her own right?

 By Thod, Verence said softly, thinking it over. But then he frowned. Meddling in my affairs of state 
already, are you?

 Well

 Come, come! I thought you might offer to marry the girl. Now that your way is clear.

 Dain drew a deep breath, desirous of casting no offense.  Tis Mandria she wants to rule, not 
Nether.

 Damne! Whats this? Verence stared at him. Has she rejected you?

 We have talked. Our mutual decision is no.

 Nonsense! She can be wooed if you will but try

 Let her rule Mandria after you, Dain interrupted firmly. Train her well for the task.

 That soft girl? Nay! She hasnt the spirit.

 Dain raised her brows. No spirit? And who stabbed Queen Neaglis with a needle? By Thod, your 


grace, theres more to her than you think.

grace, theres more to her than you think.

 Aye, thats true enough.

 Well, Dain, Verence said with a shrug. I cant fault her for not wanting this blighted mess youve 
won. Heed me and execute that pair in your dungeons.

 Dain frowned, thinking of Neaglis and her sickly child Jonan whose fate he still had to decide.

 Exile them, Verence said, and civil war will drag on endlessly. You must show strength now if 
youre to keep your throne.

 Rebuilding this kingdom will not be easy, Dain admitted.

  Twill keep you busy. As for Thirst, Ill have to find a new chevard to

 You will not, Dain said fiercely. Its mine, by inheritance and charter. The men are sworn to me, 
and Ill keep my hand on it. And them.

 Stiffening, Verence sent Dain a sharp look indeed. You would not dare ... you cannot! I refuse to 
have such a Netheran inroad to my lands. No!

 Dain glared back.  Tis done, and by your own signature.

 Ill not have it!

 You cant stop it. The law supports me.

 That charter will be taken apart, analyzed word by word.

 Do it, Dain said boldly. And let your diplomats meet with mine.

 Done, by Thod! Youre a rascal and a devil, Dain. Indeed you are.

 But Verence was grinning as he spoke, and they parted on good terms. Dain saw the Mandrians off, 
glad to see him and his entourage depart at last. Entertaining someone like Verence, whod been frankly 
appalled by the condition of both the palace and (he city, was a considerable strain when the treasury 
was depleted and the larder less than well-stocked. Someday, Dain promised himself, Grov would again 
rival Savroix for its beauty and culture.

 I hear, your majesty, Lord Omas remarked, that a delegation of the eld-folk is on its way here.

 Aye, Dain said absently.

 They should have fought with us, and not hidden like cowards, Lord Omas went on. Still, if your 
majesty can make a treaty with them, that will be quite a change for the kingdom.

 There are many changes to be made in this kingdom, Dain said with determination. Snapping his 
fingers, he summoned a page. Bring the Princess Alexeika to me in the Gallery of Glass.

 When she came, he was standing at one of the tall windows overlooking what had been his mothers 
private garden. Overgrown into a thicket, its paths could barely be determined, yet from this height he 
could see traces of the original design. Sea hollies and old roses, their canes bare and encased in ice from 
last nights sleet, could still be spied among the weeds and brambles. He would restore the garden, he 
vowed. He would restore all he could.

 Lady Alexeika! announced a page. Dain had heard them coming. Lord Omas, stationed at the door, 
boomed a few words to her in what he believed was a murmur. Her reply was brief and quiet.

 When she entered, her footsteps echoed quick and light on the floor. The few sticks of tawdry 
furniture had been removed, leaving the room empty of all furnishings. The broken globes and mirrors 
had been taken away. The burned outline of Gavrils corpse on the floor had been sanded down and 
obliterated. Cobwebs and years of grime had all been cleaned away, and similar work had started slowly 
on other inhabitable parts of the palace. Below ground, in the sacred vault of the original shrine and the 
First Circle, glowed its pure light over the altar. The paneatha, with its icons of the godsslightly 
mismatched at presenthad been restored to its rightful place.

 There was much to do, an overwhelming amount to do, but right now Dains attention was centered 
on the lady advancing toward him. She was no Alexeika he recognized.

 She halted before him and curtsied low, while he stared at her. She was completely transformed. 
Attired in a gown of long, dark gray velvet trimmed with fur at sleeves and hem, she displayed a shapely 
figure indeed. She wore her dark chestnut hair loose and full, allowing it to spill down her back in a 


wealth of shining curls. Little jewels hung from her ears, winking and glittering in the sunshine.

wealth of shining curls. Little jewels hung from her ears, winking and glittering in the sunshine.

 As the silence between them lengthened, defiance filled her blue-gray eyes. Lifting her chin, she started 
to speak, but he was quicker.

 Youre wearing a gown, he said, then instantly realized how inane his remark sounded.

 Her nostrils flared. Aye, sire, I am. Since Im female, I have the right.

 No, no! He held out his hand, laughing a little. Forgive my clumsiness. I meant to compliment you 
on how well it suits you, but did so poorly. You look charming.

 Thank you, sire.

 I just didnt expect to see you dressed this way.

 And how would your majesty prefer me to dress at court? In leggings?

 Her voice was as sharp and satirical as ever. Suddenly he felt on solid ground again. Beneath all this 
beauty and femininity could still be found his Alexeika, the sharp-tongued, swearing, tough little knight 
and comrade hed grown to like so much. She wasnt wearing her daggers, he noted, and wondered if 
shed sold them to buy this finery.

 What does your majesty wish to discuss with me?

 His brows rose at her impatience. She was as prickly today as a hedge thorn, but he answered her 
question with good humor. I summoned you to discuss the matter of your court duties.

 She stiffened. I deserve no such favor.

 That is

 Nay! she said sharply. Please, sire, grant me leave to depart your court... and Grov.

 You want to leave? he said in surprise, far from pleased. But why?

 Her cheeks burned. I seek to reclaim my ancestral home from the upstarts who seized it when my 
father was exiled. With your majestys permission, I will

 No, Dain said.

 She fell silent, her brows knotting together. Anger glinted in her eyes.

 In good time we shall deal with all the legal claims and tangled properties, Dain said, but not today. 
Sir Thum has told me that you did not join the battle, that instead you stood guard over Pheresa, you 
alone, and that you killed two hurl-hounds to protect her.

 Alexeikas face grew redder. Her eyes would not meet his. The task had to be done, she said 
gruffly.

 I thank you for your kindness toward the lady, he said.

 She shook her head. Give me no thanks, majesty. I deserve none. Punish me. Cast me out, but dont 
be kind.

 Why should I punish you? he asked gently.

 Although her mouth trembled, her eyes flashed angrily. Now you make sport of me.

 I do not. Why should I punish you? Her gaze fell from his. Your majesty knows why. I b-be-trayed 
you.

 Nothing of the kind.

 But

 Alexeika, you did not. Whatever wrong you think you committed is forgiven.

 No! she said sharply. I dont want forgiveness. I know what I am, sire. A petty, cruel barbarian of 
the mountains. I tried to keep you from saving her. He stared at her gravely. Why?

 It doesnt matter why! she cried. Not now. Please give me leave to go.

 You will stay, he commanded, until you tell me why you acted as you did.

 She whirled around and began to walk in a small circle, her back rigid and stiff. Tell me, he insisted.

 Because I hate her! she cried as though goaded too far. I am jealous of her, and each time your 
majestys gaze goes to her, I feel sick inside.

 If you truly hated her you would not have fought to protect her during the battle. You would not have 
held to her lips and coaxed her to drink the waters that healed her. He met her eyes with compassion. 
In fact, you could not have even held at all, had you been guilty of all that you claim. It would have 


burned you.

burned you.

 Alexeika, forgive yourself. No one blames you for concealing the Ring as long as you did. I do not.

 She frowned. Your majesty is too kind. Too softhearted. Everyone here will take advantage of 
you

 Nay, he said, stepping closer. There is only one person at court who can do that.

 Her head jerked up, and she grew visibly flustered. You flirt with me now only because she has gone! 
If you love her, go after her.

 Do you mean that?

 Biting her Jip, she turned away. I care nothing about Lady Pheresa, but I would see your grace happy 
no matter the cost.

 Ah, he said with a smile. Then my happiness is here, for I do not love the Jady.

 Her eyes flashed to his. Of course you do. You said so many times.

 He shrugged. Things that once seemed very important to me now appear less so. Others that I failed 
to value at first have become quite precious.

 Her gaze penetrated his, as though desperate to know the truth. How could your majesty change 
heart so suddenly? You are not a whimsical or capricious man.

 No, I am not. But I looked at her this morning, and knew she was not the one I want forever with 
me. I think the change has been taking root in me for several weeks. 

But why, sire? Shes all youve ever dreamed about. Shes your first love, your ideal of all thats 
best in a woman. Sir Thum told me She broke off suddenly and blushed red. Forgive me, she said 
in apology. I have no business questioning your majesty about anything.

 But I like your questions. And your honesty. Not always your scolding or meddling or arguing, mind, 
but I like a good, rousing discussion.

 And for this reason you rejected the niece of King Ver-ence? Alexeika asked in astonishment. 
Does your majesty not understand how tremendous an alliance this would be, the union of Nether and 
Mandria? You could use her dowry to rebuild your treasury. Think of the opportunity.

 Hush, he said. Ive heard that before. The opportunity I want is right here. Without warning, he 
pulled her into his arms. Ah, he thought in satisfaction. Here was a woman sturdy enough to hold tight. 
Alexeika might be slender in the right places, but there was nothing fragile or delicate about her.

 She yelped in surprise, and her face flamed red as she pushed with all her might against his chest. 
What are you doing! King or not, youve no right to take liberties!

 I havent taken them yet, he said. But I shall if you dont grant me any.

 She stamped down hard on his foot, making him flinch, and twisted free. She whirled around in a 
billow of skirts and hurried away toward the door.

 Laughing, Dain hobbled after her. Alexeika! he called. Wait!

 She halted in the center of the room with her back to him. You little she-cat, he said, catching up to 
her, dont you understand anything? I love you. You cant. You dont!

 Ah, but I do. He put his arms around her gently, not to startle or capture her, but to caress her.

 She turned to face him, pushing again at his chest, but this time without much determination. Im a 
knight, she said with loathing. A comrade-at-arms. A horse thief. A warrior-maid.

 All those things, he agreed, smiling at her. Although you must promise to stop thieving horses. I 
cannot permit my queen to do that.

 Her eyes flew open wide, and she gasped. Your queen?

 My queen, he said. To rule at my side. To give me dispute rather than gentle compliance. To have 
courage equal to my own. Alexeika, I would rather love a woman who has the passion to make 
mistakes, just as I make them, and the honesty to admit them afterwards, as I hope I will always do, than 
to spend my life with someone docile and dull.

 A wicked little light gleamed in her eyes. Dull? she echoed. You think Lady Pheresa is dull?

 Compared to you, aye, he said with conviction. Do you love me, Alexeika?

 She trembled in his arms, looking shy, and nodded as though her voice had left her. All her heart shone 


in her eyes. And he kissed her. 


