The Sampler Platter: A Little Bit of Everything

by Susan Skylark

Beyond the Mountains:

  “Are you sure about this?” gasped Bayard, trying desperately to stay aback the trotting horse; he was not used to riding and the animal had a trot rough enough to unseat an experienced rider.

  “Certainly not!” laughed Tyne, having a much easier time astride his well-bred gelding and far more used to riding than his awkward friend.

  “Then why are we going?” asked Bayard, coming alongside his amused companion who could not help but laugh at Bayard’s desperate attempt to stay horsed.

  Gaining some control over himself, Tyne replied, “would you rather stay home and follow a plow around all your life with all the rewards of your labor going to another man or worse, fall victim to the Blackguard or anyone else who sees fit to plunder or kidnap those too weak to defend themselves?”

  Bayard sighed, “I see your point of course, but what are we to find upon the road but perhaps worse than your slavers and the Blackguard? Besides, your father seems to do quite well, at least when it comes to keeping more of the fruits of his labor than the rest of us.”

  Tyne sighed, “he has always been able to toady up to the Lord and is thus allowed a few privileges.”

  Bayard laughed, “which is why you are riding a real horse and I am stuck with this ox!” Tyne could not help but join in his friend’s mirth. He did not know what waited upon their road but only that he felt as if he could no longer stay at home. They certainly might meet a tragic end but there was also a chance that they might find a brighter horizon where endless toil and fear were not an assumed part of life. The Lord that oversaw their particular part of the world was by no means the most tyrannical of his class, but he did not leave the peasants much to live on after he had claimed his share.

  In this unsettled part of the world no one dared resist the Blackguard, who rode in and took whatever and whomever they pleased. It was also rumored that there were darker and more dangerous creatures abroad in service to the Dark Prince, and none dared speak against him or his minions in the open air for fear that even the birds and the trees might carry the tale to the wrong ears; the results of which were inevitably fatal to the speaker and all his immediate kin. As peasant boys nearing manhood, Bayard and Tyne were expected to continue as their fathers had in tilling the soil and paying tribute to their local lord. Their other option was to become soldiers serving some lord, king, or other power in the wide world. Or they could pack their meager belongings, leave home, and hope to find adventure and riches upon the road while all their nearest relations could only shake their heads in wonder. They had chosen the latter though they knew little of the world, save that it was a dark and dangerous place.

  There were many Kingdoms scattered across the vast expanse of the known world but also much wildland, unclaimed by any sovereign but haunted by those who wished not be found. Though each Kingdom had its own sitting monarch, there was a power that none dared challenge. Far to the south dwelt the Dark Prince in his wasted lands and throughout all the lands of men his servants rode far and wide, doing as they pleased with lesser men and ever on some errand for their dark master. Some said the Dark Prince was not even human, but those that did knew not what else he could be. The reigning kings allowed his servants to do as they pleased and none hindered them, for fear of their master’s wrath falling upon them.

  It was a broad and strange world, peopled by all manner of men and creatures. Some whispered of those that opposed the Dark Prince and his minions, but most thought it hearsay, for who would dare oppose his Dread Majesty, or rather who would oppose him and live to tell about it? There were the usual wars and tyrannies that one man or country might inflict upon another throughout the world, as is only common in the lands of men. Rumors abounded of strange and dangerous folk and creatures lurking in the wild places of the world; most of the stories held that they were unfriendly to men and not to be trusted. There were certainly human predators abroad: bandits who preyed upon any foolish enough to wander far from the confines of civilization. All in all, it was a dangerous world with little of hope or peace known to most of its inhabitants. What was the point of living many wondered, if it were only to suffer and then to die? But most feared death more than even the most wretched existence but could not say why. The boys hoped not only to find a brighter future upon the road but also a purpose for living.

  The Dark Prince and his minions were a reality known and feared by all, but there were also legends of another sort in the world. It was said that somewhere, beyond the Sea, dwelt the Great King who had once ruled over the Greylands, as the mortal world was called, but over which the Dark Prince now held dominion. Some actually believe the legend that the King would one day return and take back that which was rightfully His. Some even claimed that the King was something much greater than a man and was the only hope for floundering humanity. Of course the Dark Prince and his servants strongly denounced such a view and severely punished any who thought otherwise. According to their opinion, there was no hope for humanity, only the long, weary march into endless night.

  Bayard hoped to learn more of these legends upon their road; Tyne only hoped to avoid the notice of the Blackguard and the other dangers of the road. They rode on until the light began to fail and they found a secluded place to camp not far from the road. The lights of a village twinkled in the distance and the intrepid pair left their well hidden camp to see what wonders it might hold, for neither had ever been farther from home than their own humble village. They quickly found the inn and made their way to a table at the far back of the common room to take in the happenings of the evening. Back home, their mothers would never have let them sit in a common room at such an hour, thinking it quite improper; their fathers would expect them to be hard at work if there was any light left and sleeping if there were not.

  The dimly lit room was filled mostly with local craftsmen and farmers along with a fair collection of merchants and other travelers. The innkeeper eyed them suspiciously, especially because they had not even bought a drink. Their stomachs were empty but they had not coin enough to spare for such a luxury as a hot meal in such a place. They lingered for another half hour but no one seemed overly interested in talking with a pair of penniless peasant children and nothing at all interesting seemed to be happening this evening. So much for the excitement of the local tavern! They crept back to their little dell, ate from the small store of food their mothers had sent with them, and were soon asleep. Both were eager to talk of their coming adventures but neither had the energy after such an expedition to which they were so new. Morning came early and wet as it usually does in the spring. They refreshed themselves in a nearby creek, ate a bit, and were soon on their way.

  “Where is it we are going?” asked Bayard as they rode along. His muscles ached terribly from yesterday’s ride and sleeping rough had not improved matters, but he tried to hide it as best he could. Tyne was nearly as sore but also as reluctant to show his discomfort.

  “I am not sure exactly,” said Tyne, “though north is probably a good direction, as I have no wish to visit the southlands and get any nearer the Dark Prince.” Bayard nodded in agreement. The further south one rode, the more notorious was the country until at last one arrived in the Withered Lands where the Dark Prince ruled and from which no living man had ever been known to return unchanged.

  “What do you think about the Mountains of Shadow?” asked Tyne, trying to hide his excitement.

  “You are not serious?” gasped Bayard, “they are nearly as notorious as the Blighted Lands! What makes you want to go there?”

  Tyne smiled sheepishly, “and who said I had any interest in going thence?” Bayard raised a suspicious eyebrow and Tyne laughed, “all right I admit it, but can you think of a more mysterious place? Besides, it is as far away from the south of the world as one can get without falling into the Sea! I know they say all manner of horrible things lurk in the passes, but they are certainly less dangerous than the servants
of the Dark Lord. Some even say there is some great treasure to be found beyond those sinister peaks. Do you have any better ideas?”

  Bayard sighed, “perhaps you are right? I supposed we can at least learn more about them as we travel and north is as good a direction as any, at least for now. We can always change our mind. They are certainly as notorious in story as the south of the world, but never are they portrayed as altogether evil as is the realm of the Dark Prince. Besides, if there is some chance at wealth or fame, I am certainly amenable to taking such a risk.”

  They rode on for several days before they finally found someone with time to talk to two strange boys. They found a grizzled old man making his way steadily along the road just leaving the village they were about to enter; he seemed rather amused that the wayfarers would stoop to talk to such as he. “Where are you bound lads?” asked the man in a voice rich in warmth and humor.

  Bayard slid from his saddle and said, “we are currently riding north and think perhaps to explore deeper the mystery of the Mountains of Shadow. Know you anything of them?”

  The man looked them over carefully and said, “I know an old tale or two about those peaks but whatever would make you wish to go thither?”

  Tyne said defensively, “they say there is a great treasure upon the far side and that is the reason we are upon this road: to get rich!”

  The old man smiled thoughtfully, “well then you will never gain your heart’s desire in those wretched mountains. There is a treasure indeed beyond their lofty heads but not for such as we. The further slopes are said ever to be bathed in the light that emanates from the Lands Beyond the Sea where dwells the Great King and all his servants. It is said no mortal eye has ever glimpsed those blessed shores nor can any man cross the peaks and hope to live.”

  Bayard said in confusion, “how then are we to make our fortune?”

  The old man laughed gently, “there are more important things in this world child than power and riches. Seek the King and you will be a far richer man than any king sitting in his halls of cold marble.”

  “Which King?” asked Tyne suspiciously.

  The old man laughed, “why the Great King young man. Who else? You do not believe a word I say do you?”

  Tyne said skeptically, “I at least had assumed this King of yours to be as much a legend as all the other tales that are common to men. What has this King to do with me even if he does exist? How can an old man ruling beyond a distant sea have anything to do with the Greylands?”

  The old man smiled and said, “a hard concept until you consider that the King is no more a man than the Dark Prince.”

  Bayard said, “what then are they?”

  The man continued, “it is said that the Great King was before anything: the world, people, time, everything. ‘Twas He that brought Everything into being. The Dark Prince was once the Great King’s greatest servant, until he rebelled against his rightful lord and claimed dominion over these Greylands. It is also whispered that these lands did not always lie under the shadow of sorrow and death but were once perfect and full of joy and peace. But the forefathers of men, at the urging of the Dark Prince, rebelled against the King and cast all the world into shadow and death. We yet linger in the shadows as it were, until the King again returns to claim all that is His by right.”

  “But why is it his by right?” demanded Tyne.

  The old man said, “He made it and all within and beyond that which we call reality.”

  Bayard gasped, “then why did he not just destroy his enemies and take back that which was his?”

  “An excellent question lad,” said the old man, “but one to which I can give but poor answer. They say that the Great King wishes that even the most rebellious of his former subjects would repent of their evil and return to their true master. He could have easily destroyed everything and begun anew, but His patience and love is greater than any mere mortal can comprehend, but His patience is not infinite for He has promised to return and cast all such rebels forever into the Blighted Lands.”

  Bayard was quite pale, “rebels? Are we not then all rebels against such a wondrous King?”

  The old man smiled sadly, “that we are boy, that we are.”

  Tyne said stiffly, “then we are all of us doomed if this tale of yours is true?”

  “Not quite,” said the old man, “there is yet hope. As I said, the King wishes all of His children to come to Him willingly. If we humble ourselves before Him, seek His forgiveness for all the evils we have wrought, and fervently seek His will and live as He would have us, we have nothing to fear.”

  Tyne sneered, “what if I want nothing to do with this King of yours or remain skeptical as to the verity of his existence?”

  The old man said, “then you and all with such hearts will one day find themselves forever lost in the Bleak Lands either upon death or at the return of the True King.”

  “I do not understand,” said Bayard quietly, “what manner of King is this? How can He love such creatures as men? Are not all such lords tyrants and despots?”

  Tyne snorted, “he seems despot enough for me.”

  The old man smiled, “no mortal mind can fully wrap itself around such an idea even with long study and acquaintance, but you do come to understand more with time and learning. Now what of your endeavor to climb the peaks?”

  Tyne laughed, “your myths will not dissuade me old man. I will seek my fortune wherever it pleases me.”

  Bayard said, “you say the Bright Lands lie beyond the northern sea which is beyond the mountains? I have a great urge to see that bright shore for myself.”

  The old man said to Bayard, “perhaps with such a sentiment you may find what you seek if you attempt the mountains, but I fear your friend will only find his doom.”

  Tyne laughed derisively, “and what would you know of the matter old man? Have you ever even seen those mountains?”

  The old man smiled, “no, but I have heard enough about them to never take such a journey lightly. Some say a man of true heart may find what he seeks in those passes so riddled with death but that a man of selfish intent shall only find his doom.”

  “I have heard enough of this old fool’s prattling, are you coming Bayard?” sneered Tyne as he turned his horse and rode towards the village.

  The old man said to Bayard as he mounted, “I fear greatly for your friend even if you do not attempt the mountains but all is certainly lost if he does with such a heart.”

  “What am I to do?” asked the concerned Bayard.

  The old man winked, “follow your heart, seek the King, and He will give you strength and direction.” Bayard gave the old man a thankful grin as he rode off after Tyne.

  “Complete nonsense!” laughed Tyne as Bayard hurried to catch up, “do not tell me you believe anything that old coot said.”

  Bayard shrugged, “some of his words stirred restless thoughts in my heart and mind. I find the whole idea intriguing! To think that perhaps man is not simply alone and forsaken to the darkness. That there is hope to be found and a purpose to living.”

  Tyne shook his head in exasperation, “come back to reality Bayard! You sound as crazed as that old man. I still intend to face the mountains despite his warnings, perhaps more so because of them.”

  Bayard said, “I long for that forbidden shore. I will go with you but I would heed well the old man’s warnings were I you. He does not seem a fool or one to spout idle words.”

  Tyne’s only reply was to laugh mockingly at his friend. They passed through the village and continued down the road, lost in the silence of their own wondering thoughts. They did not see the raven that ghosted silently behind them as they rode nor the arrow that felled the dark bird from the sky before it could pass along word of what it had observed to its fell masters. They found another place to camp and silently prepared for the night. As they sat about their fire, still lost in
thought, though Tyne was partly silent out of his irritation with Bayard for believing the old man’s nonsense, two strangers entered the light of the fire. The boys each reached for the daggers they carried but soon realized a knife would not avail them against two men armed with swords. However, the weapons remained safely in their sheaths and the men politely asked if they could join the boys.

  Bayard nodded eagerly, seeing something he liked or trusted in the face or manner of the two men. Tyne shrugged and figured the men would do as they pleased regardless. Said the first, “it is not often we see two boys wandering in the wide world alone and unarmed. From whence do you come and whither are you bound?”

  Bayard said, “we come from a tiny village nearly a week’s ride to the south and our current goal is the Northern Mountains. However, we know little of the wide world and would be most grateful for any advice.”

  “What is it you seek?” asked the second.

  Tyne said, “who is it that wants to know?”

  The first smiled, “it is wise to be wary in these dark days and drear lands. Fear not, we wish you no harm and hope only to aid you on your quest, whatever it be.”

  Bayard said, “I am not sure what it is I seek. I once thought it was renown or wealth or power but now all seems but dross in my eyes.”

  Tyne said, “my foolish friend has lost his vision but I still seek that which he has forsaken.”

  The first said, “those mountains are not to be traveled lightly. Few that cross into them ever come out alive, for all manner of strange and wild folk and even stranger beasts inhabit those peaks. But it is said that those who are willing to risk life and limb to find what lies beyond the mountains may truly find what they seek even if they succumb to the perils of the mountains. But it is also said that those who come looking for temporal gain shall find only death, even if they survive.”

  Tyne laughed, “you sound like that crazed old man. What treasure is hidden in those peaks that must be so well guarded even in myth and legend to keep men from coming to steal it away in droves? And what is it that lies beyond the mountains?”

  The second said, “you should listen more closely to your ‘crazed old man,’ for he speaks wisdom. A great and wondrous Sea lies beyond the mountains and beyond that are the Bright Lands which no mortal eye has ever glimpsed. If you wish to serve the King with all your heart and venture into the heights, you may find your heart’s desire but those seeking only selfish gain ever only find death.”

  Tyne growled, “I suggest that both of you go find your own place to sleep. You have wearied me as much as that old man with your mythic blathering.”

  The pair exchanged an unreadable look and the first man said, “as you wish it, though it would be wise to heed our words. Twice this day you have been warned.”

  They vanished again into the night as suddenly as they had come, leaving Tyne to laugh himself to sleep and Bayard to wonder what it was he was actually seeking. The following morning Tyne was in a delightful mood though it would sour slightly each time he thought about the strangers of the previous day and their inane warnings. He confronted Bayard, “are you still convinced these fools speak truly? I think they only pass along hearsay and are nothing more than gossip mongers. I will still let you accompany me into the mountains but please spare me the tedium of such talk as we had to endure yesterday. If you want to believe that drivel, that is your choice, but I do not wish to share in your delight.”

  Bayard smiled sadly and said, “as you wish it. How long do you think until we reach the mountains?”

  Tyne shrugged, “I have no idea. I hope before our food runs out.”

  They saddled their horses and were soon on their way. They spoke no more of the strange warnings of the previous day and again fell into the easy friendship they had enjoyed since childhood. As they traveled north, the horizon was soon dominated by what must be those distant peaks. First they were little more than a dark line in the distance but with each passing mile they grew steadily larger until finally they stood among the foothills and the peaks dominated the sky. The intrepid pair had had no further incidents or adventures along the way and were quite eager to begin the ascent, though their food was nearly spent and the dire warnings were not completely forgotten.

  A little path wound deeper into the hills and near a slanting signpost, stood a man with stooping shoulders and a voluminous beard. He greeted the travelers warmly and asked, “do you dare the mountains my lads? I must warn you that it is certain death to go much beyond this point. If you do not fall afoul of the elves and wild beasts, there are stranger and more deadly evils lurking in the heights. It is said that even if one survives the climb to the peak, none can hope to live to see the other side, for even the air itself turns against mortal men at such a height.”

  Tyne laughed, “you sound as farcical as every other man who has said as much. What is so important that men would be willing to die in the attempt to claim it and that such legends have grown up around it?”

  The man said, “why the very meaning and purpose of life itself! The answers to all the questions of the universe. All hope, all beauty, all peace, all joy! But such is not to be revealed to mortal man. Those that venture forth trusting in the King have nothing to fear though death take them. All others shall forever be lost.”

  “Why would that matter in the least?” asked the mystified Tyne.

  The little man smirked, “for when one courts death it is good to know where one shall reside thereafter.”

  Tyne snorted derisively but said nothing in reply. He turned to Bayard, “well?”

  Bayard smiled, “I am quite eager to try this path but you might wish to reconsider, as not just one but four have now warned us of what lies ahead.”

  Tyne sighed, “I am no coward. Let us away while the daylight lasts and may we swiftly forget the ramblings of this maniac and all his ilk! I will see what legends truly lurk in those heights and no midget shall hinder me.”

  Bayard exchanged a concerned look with the friendly man who shook his head sadly. Without another word they took to their saddles and resumed their northward journey. The day soon began to fail and they found a place to camp not far from the road. They debated about a fire as it might draw unwanted attention to themselves by the fairyfolk that were rumored to live in these hills but it also might keep the lesser beasts at bay. Finally they built the fire, thinking it far better to face a sapient foe than to fall victim to a mindless beast alone in the dark. They sat quietly around the fire until Tyne mused, “what do you think really lies beyond? What have they gone to so much trouble to conceal?”

  Bayard smiled, “can you not take these men at their word? I know to the very core of my being that they speak truth. If they are right, you face not only mortal death but eternal darkness as well.”

  “Me?” scoffed Tyne, “why must I face such things alone? Are you going to abandon me at the end then or have you given in to the nonsense spouted by lesser men?”

  Bayard said, “I shall remain true no matter what befalls us but yes, I believe these men and make the ascent in hopes of serving the King.”

  Tyne laughed coldly, “certainly a strange way of finding servants I think. At least I shall die a free man.”

  Bayard said quietly, “none of us are free men. We live either to serve the King or the Dark Lord, only in service to the King is true freedom.”

  Tyne snorted, “you sound like that blighted old man! Where did this outburst come from?”

  Bayard smiled sheepishly, “I do not know but I know it true.”

  Tyne could only shake his head in amazement and roll over to find what sleep he could. Bayard lay awake long into the night, pleading with the darkness that perhaps his friend’s heart might also be touched before it was too late. He knew in his heart that neither of them would remain unchanged from this journey. Morning came and they moved higher into the mountains; t
he forest grew close and thick about them and the path became narrower, steeper, and harder to find. Finally they were forced to leave the horses and make the ascent afoot. The sun was hot upon their backs and the insects buzzed incessantly in their ears in their insatiable thirst for blood. They emerged from the woods and stood on a rocky outcropping on the edge of a cliff that dropped sharply two hundred feet to a narrow valley below. The trees marched on endlessly up the slope until they vanished into a low cloud that had engulfed the entire top of the mountain. They sat down on two great stones that jutted from the earth to rest, though the sun was fierce and the insects fiercer.

  Suddenly they stood upon hearing movement among the trees and the slight crunch of rock beneath a booted foot. The two boys exchanged a frightened look and reached for their knives, knowing there was little they could do against anyone or anything that might wish them harm. The noise grew louder among the trees they had just left and Bayard backed towards the edge of the cliff, hoping that with it at his back at least attack could not come from behind. He need not have worried about attack from behind for there was danger enough before him. A bowstring snapped and the arrow took Bayard in the chest; his eyes widened in pain and surprise for a moment but then he vanished over the precipice.

  Tyne ran to the edge to see what had become of his friend. He lay unmoving at the bottom of the gorge with his neck and body bent at angles no living man could endure. He stood quickly, knowing there was nothing to be done for Bayard and faced again their hidden foes but suddenly a great shadow blocked out the sun and a great shriek filled his ears. There came terrified shouting in an unknown language and the sound of fleeing feet from the direction of the trees. Tyne wondered what this new horror could be that would frighten away the unseen archers. A great bat winged reptile alighted in the rocky clearing but it did not immediately lunge at Tyne with its horrible teeth as he thought it would. It eyed him hungrily but then lost interest and began to preen itself as if it were some scaly bird. A creature, for creature was the best name Tyne could apply to such an apparition, slid from the monster’s back. It stood like a man but seemed half again as tall as the tallest of our race and equally as broad. It was clad all in black armor with a terrifying assortment of weapons arranged about itself. Its eyes gleamed like red coals deep within the shadowy depths of its head. Where clothing or skin should have peaked through there was only darkness deeper than the starless night.

  Tyne was frozen in terror by the thing. Then the apparition spoke, “what is it you seek fool? Only death awaits you here, as your friend has demonstrated. Would you end as he? Carrion for the birds? Or would you know what it is to truly live, to have power beyond mortal dreaming?”

  Tyne stuttered, “anything is better than death! What is it you can offer?”

  The thing laughed but there was nothing pleasant in the sound, “I offer nothing fool! But perhaps my master shall find you worth salvaging, else I can leave you here for the vultures.”

  Tyne looked again upon the shattered remains of Bayard and then looked back at the apparition and its winged mount. He sighed, “very well, I shall see what this master of yours has for me. I am dead regardless, so what choice have I?”

  The thing laughed again, “you do not. Come.”

  The thing nearly tossed the boy into the saddle and then climbed up behind him with a strength and speed that defied mortality. The reptile screeched and was soon in the air winging its way quickly south. Tyne was terrified by the apparitions beneath and behind him. He felt some sadness at the loss of his friend but far more relief in having escaped such a fate himself. The boy was a fool! This was the fate his faith had earned him. Tyne shivered, wondering what his own future held. The monstrosity laughed coldly behind him as if it knew his thoughts.

  Bayard felt the pain of the arrow in his chest, breathing became an agony, and then he felt himself fall. A sharp pain to his head had sent him reeling into darkness and then into a veiled half light, as if one lay in the sun with your eyes shut. The pain was gone and so was all the horror and fear of what had just come to pass. All he felt was a wonderful sort of peace and a warm wetness engulfing one foot. His eyes fluttered open and he found himself lying on a beach with one foot submerged in a seemingly endless sea that was clear as glass but whose hue was ten thousand different shades of blue and green and purple. Light played in the gentle ripples upon its surface but other lights like stars or fireflies lost in the deep flitted and danced in its depths. Bayard felt as if he might look at the water forever and be content to lose himself in such beauty but this was not the only marvel before him.

  The light about him was that of morning in the spring when all is alive and aflutter with life and birdsong but there was no sun to cast such a radiance. It emanated from the north, across the vast sea, and he felt his heart yearning to go thence. He then glanced about himself and found an endless beach of soft white sand with nothing upon it but a small boat lying where the water lapped at the shore. He wondered at this for a moment but his eyes carried his gaze to the mountains, that bordered the beach, whose lofty heads were lost in the clouds or perhaps they had no top. The living rock was alive in every color of grey, blue, and black and streaked with veins of silver. Theirs was not the dull and drab hue of mortal stone but each pebble was more stunning than the most precious gem among living men. Upon their lower slopes Bayard could see vast forests and deep, green valleys, and here and there, the flash and play of light upon distant water. If one has seen a jungle on the slopes of a tropical mountain, this forest made its mortal counterpart look an unwatered desert wasteland.

  He looked again to the boat and then towards the source of all the light and peace and joy in this strange new world. His entire being called him to climb into the tiny vessel and cross that vibrant sea, but a yet deeper part turned again his eyes to those mountains and the mortal world that must certainly lie beyond. He looked upon those cliffs with longing, wishing there was some small part he could yet play in the affairs of mortal men; that he somehow might be allowed to tell others what he himself had heard and to become a shield between the helpless and the darkness that yearned above all things to destroy them. “You want to go back?” came a shrill voice behind him.

  Bayard’s eyes quickly sought out the source and found a gull sitting on the bow of the boat. He was not surprised to find a talking bird in such a place but was quite astonished to find himself on his knees in awe and fear before such a lowly seeming thing. The gull seemed to find the whole thing quite amusing as it said, “you certainly could go back and render aid to yet living men but you cannot again live among them. But would you want to go back? What has anyone ever done for you? Why would you want to linger on in such a place of grief and sorrow when once you have been beyond all of that?”

  Bayard could not meet the eyes of the bird but stared at the sand, grinning sheepishly, “I want the whole world to know what it is I have found! I want to do something worthwhile in service to the King, for my life was short and lived quite selfishly in ignorance of Himself. Why should I despise that which I have known all my life simply because I have glimpsed a brighter morning?”

  “Well spoken,” squawked the gull, “as long as you have fully thought it out you may do as you wish, but know that you are not immune to sorrow, grief, humiliation, or pain though true death cannot take you twice. Neither can you settle down among them or go where you wish. It shall be at My bidding and direction that you serve and Mine alone.” Bayard did not need to ask Who this bird was though he was a bit taken aback at His current appearance. The bird laughed in its own shrill way and said, “you cannot imagine the Creator of the universe in the guise of a seagull? It is quite ironic I suppose, but for the moment it is sufficient for both of us. Now are you sure?”

  The boy finally felt an irresistible urge to lift his eyes and meet those of the gull. Somehow those beady eyes that were so cruel in mortal gulls held
immense wisdom and power, but also unfathomable love for the wretched boy upon the beach. “There is one last thing,” said the gull quite seriously. At that moment the boy lost all conscious knowledge of himself and every selfish act, small sin, and intentional evil that he had ever committed played through his mind. It seemed an eternity of pain and sorrow and grief and humiliation until the boy came to himself and found himself lying prone on the beach, weeping as one bereft of his soul. A small wave suddenly washed over the boy and when it had retreated safely into the sea he found himself eye to eye with that strange bird. He cocked his head and said gently, “it is gone, all of it! Somewhere perhaps in the deepest depths of the sea it yet dwells, but never more to be remembered by either of us. You have committed it to Me and I have removed it far from you.” The boy nodded and smiled a small, sad smile. The bird stared at him blankly until finally joy unthinkable stirred in his heart and blossomed upon his face. The bird smiled deeply and said, “then I commit you to others that they might set you upon your quest.” Then He was gone and the boy was alone on the beach.

  He sat up and made to brush the sand from his chest but froze in astonishment. Gone was his ragged and travel-stained peasant garb and in its place he was clad all in white garments and silver armor. He laughed, for a sword rested firmly at his side, though he had never held such a weapon in his life he felt he knew full well the use of it. He glanced again at the rocky heights but knew to climb them was impossible. He looked first west and then east but white sand and rocky height and sparkling water ran for endless miles in either direction; he knew if he walked forever he would never come to their ending. But now what? He felt an urging to look again to the west and was not at all surprised to see a man mounted upon a great winged horse standing where only a moment before there had been nothing but empty, glorious beach. The man slid from the great horse’s back as Bayard rushed to meet him. They exchanged warm greetings, as if they were brothers or best friends long sundered through much sorrow and reunited with joy in the morning.

  It was one of the men who had sat beside their fire what seemed a thousand years ago or perhaps something that happened in a dream. He smiled as recognition dawned in the boy’s eyes and then said, “I see you have made it.”

  Bayard nodded, “I am still not sure what I have volunteered for but it seems far more wonderful than anything I could ever have imagined.”

  The man grinned, “you have not seen anything yet! Come, we had best be on our way for there are things you must accomplish in the lands of mortal men.”

  The man climbed back into his saddle and seemed to be waiting upon the boy to follow. The horse eyed the boy skeptically and said, “this is highly unusual, never in my experience has any Pegassi ever borne two riders of your sort. Where is the boy’s mount?”

  The man said quietly, “he refused his calling and for now we must offer the boy our aid else he must walk.”

  The horse made a disquiet sound deep in his throat and said, “this is quite unexpected and worse than tragic! To think that even the Pegassi might rebel against the King, but I suppose we have as much choice in the matter as all other thinking creatures. Come boy, it is time to ride.”

  The boy looked a tad nervous, not quite understanding the conversation that passed betwixt the two but easily found his way into the saddle behind the man. The Pegassi turned slightly and with a great sweep of his wings all the world whirled around them and they found themselves standing in a little grove of trees not far off the road with an inn a little way down the road. Gone were the splendid clothes and the great horse and instead there stood two plainly clad men and as common a horse as one could find anywhere in the world. “Now,” said Ryan, “I will tell you a little about your new occupation before I set you upon your first quest, but much will come with experience or you will have the knowledge when you need it. We have passed beyond mortality but have not yet passed over the Sea. If ever you grow weary, simply return to the beach and cross the Sea and enter the Brightlands, but you may never again return to the mortal world until the King himself comes for the final battle against the Evil One.”

  He continued, “we cannot again taste of natural death but we can feel pain and certain foes, spells, and weapons have the ability to cast us back to the beach and from thence we must again set out. You must always try but you may not always succeed. Sometimes our success depends upon the choices of mortal men and they must make their own decisions, we cannot force them and thus we might fail because they choose poorly. Know that our Master has already conquered death and evil but yet a little while it lingers still in this mortal sphere until all again shall be put aright. We appear in various forms to the inhabitants of these Greylands: sometimes we are not visible, sometimes in our true form though unable to touch mortal things, and at other times we are mortal ourselves, at least enough that we can aid those we must without alerting them to our rather strange nature.

  You may deal no injury to mortal men though they may feel for a moment the pain as if you had struck them, but to the minions of our Enemy your blade can either destroy utterly or cause the villain to be banished back to his fell master for a time. In mortal guise, if given a mortal wound we may for a time appear dead, but in what form or shape we return depends upon our Master’s will and our current situation. We may simply vanish, take again our natural form, or perhaps even find ourselves whole in mortal guise once more. In mortal guise, mortal weapons can cause us injury and temporary harm. You will feel again sorrow and grief, especially for those who refuse our Master’s call, but you cannot despair or lose hope for ours is a Hope and a Joy which is boundless and ever new. Any questions?”

  The boy’s eyes were wide as he tried to remember all that had suddenly been revealed and then he said once he found voice enough to speak, “what was it you were saying back on the beach about it being strange that I have no mount?”

  The man nodded and said, “each of us is paired with one of the Pegassi, but they are a free and noble race that lives upon the seaward side of the mountains ever facing the Brightlands. It is their purpose and glory to aid us in our quest, but they have a choice whether to pursue that calling or not. Your intended mount refused, a thing rarely done in all the days since time began. As such, he is a rebel and has been banished to this side of the mountains in hopes that he might one day rue his pride and seek again the King’s mercy. The choice is yet his to make and what will become of the matter I know not. You will have help when you need it, fear not, for we are never alone.” Suddenly Ryan and his mount were gone and Bayard was left alone in the little copse. He wondered what he was to do next and felt a very strong urging to enter the inn and wait for what was to come.

  Bayard waited patiently at a table near the door. Various patrons came and went, but none heeded him save a stranger sitting far to the back who watched him intently. The presence of the dark man sent a cold thrill down Bayard’s spine and he knew there was something uncanny about the man. The door opened again and Bayard knew that his quarry had come. It was Ithril, Tyne’s younger brother. The boy looked a bit older than he had the day they left home; he seemed to recognize Bayard for he started in surprise but soon smiled in pleasure and seeming relief. He seated himself across from the older boy and said, “where have you been? Tyne returned home six months after you both left. He did not stay long nor would he say what had come of your adventures. He left soon after but promised to return which made me very uneasy. I decided it would be best if I were not home when he came back again.”

  Bayard eyed the stranger cautiously before speaking, “your brother and I traveled into the far north of the world and attempted to climb the Mountains of Shadow. I was injured and fell down a cliff. I do not know what became of your brother but he left me for dead. What exactly do you plan to do with yourself now that you are loose in the wide world?”

  The boy shrugged in embarrassment, his eyes still wide with amazeme
nt after Bayard’s story, he said, “I do not rightly know but I am to meet with a man tonight who might have an interesting offer to make.” Bayard eyed the stranger in alarm but Ithril’s attention was drawn to the door where a middle-aged man had just come in out of the night. He nodded to the boy and stared curiously at Bayard before taking a seat next to Ithril.

  He said quietly, “I had not expected you to bring a friend, lad.”

  The boy smiled, “I was not expecting him either. He and my brother were good friends once and I have not seem him in a year, but I found him here when I arrived.”

  The man eyed the older boy curiously, “can you use that blade lad?”

  Bayard smiled sheepishly, “it depends on who you ask. I am not much of a threat to mankind but neither am I completely useless.”

  The man smiled in commiseration and said, “the bigger question is can you be trusted? Your young friend here has agreed to secrecy in this matter and if you wish to be part of it I ask that you do the same.”

  Bayard said, “I shall certainly not betray you.”

  The man nodded and said, “good, then we had best ride, for there are certain folk about I would like to avoid.”

  Ithril and the man stood and headed for the door, but Bayard stood slowly and followed at a leisurely pace. As the others vanished into the night, the stranger stood and made for the back door of the inn. Bayard drew forth a dagger and threw it with the unerring accuracy of a master marksman. The stranger made a strangled sort of screaming sound and clutched at the dagger in his back momentarily before vanishing in a puff of smoke. The other patrons of the inn were wide eyed and watched in astonishment as the strange youth left the inn and sighed in relief once he was gone. There was no trace of either the dagger or the dark man. The exchange had taken barely a moment and Bayard’s companions failed to notice anything untoward had even happened.

  Bayard thought perhaps he should feel a sense of remorse or disgust for dealing so with the Spy in the inn, but it was for this that he was abroad in the world: to protect mortal men from those servants of the Enemy against whom they stood no chance. They must deal with men of evil intent themselves but such a creature as this could not be dealt with by those that yet drew breath. They emerged from the inn and the man remarked, “I did not like the look of that shifty stranger and hope we will not have reason to regret his presence this night.”

  Bayard smiled, “I do not think he will be bothering us, at least not tonight.”

  The man eyed him curiously, “and why is that?”

  Bayard shrugged, “just a hunch.”

  “Perhaps,” said the older man, “but more importantly, do you have a horse?”

  Bayard said sheepishly, “I am afraid my mount and I have been sundered and alas, I am afoot at the moment.”

  The man turned to Ithril, “and you?”

  The boy said matter-of-factly, “my brother took my father’s only spare horse and when I left home he would not lend me so much as a sway-backed mule.”

  The man sighed, “then I guess we had best start walking as fast and as far as we can while the moon lasts.” He took the reins of his own beast and they set off quickly afoot. They walked silently until they were well away from the inn and then the man began to speak quietly but firmly saying, “you are both well aware of the Dark Prince who lurks far to the south while his servants prey upon whom they will. Are you also aware that there are those who dare to stand against such vile men?” Ithril looked hopeful and Bayard listened closely but remained silent.

  The man continued, “most consider such men fools or myth, but they are very real, if quite secretive in their habits and movements. It is for this very matter we have come together this night, or at least why Ithril has sought me out. Our as yet nameless friend seems to be here by coincidence but I do not believe in coincidence. What brings us together lad? Is it providence that you have found us or are you one of the Enemy’s many spies, sent to find and destroy us?”

  Bayard said, “perhaps you could call it providence, but I can assure you that I am no servant of the dark.”

  The man nodded firmly and said, “you certainly sound as if you speak the truth, but time shall reveal what it will. You seem far too young to have fallen into evil, but this boy’s brother is of an age with you and I know he has come to dabble in things best left alone. You were once friends? Tell me how it is that he comes to be a servant of the darkness and you are not of the same ilk?”

  Bayard said quietly, “we traveled together for a time, as Ithril has said, but we were parted and afterwards I know not what came of him. But I do know he had an insatiable thirst for power and renown, which I fear led him into darkness. I did not share his longings.”

  “What then is it you seek lad?” asked the man.

  Bayard smiled, “that I was hoping you would tell me. For I am yet in search of my current purpose and quest.”

  The man smiled, “then perhaps you have found it. If you are interested, I can tell you more of the Whiteguard, the perennial enemy of the Dark Prince’s Blackguard.” Both of the boys nodded eagerly and the man continued, “very well then. We are free men who have chosen to dedicate our lives to opposing the human servants of the Dark Prince. We are servants of the Great King and therefore uphold His laws, defending the helpless from the minions of evil. We are not as numerous as the minions of the south, but we are well trained in the arts of war and have allies in all lands willing to aid and hide us as they can. We do not fight outright battles but fall upon small groupings of enemy soldiers, patrols, scouts, and raiding parties. It is a dangerous life but I know none so worthwhile or exciting. If you are looking for something to do with your lives it is an honorable life though you shall never gain riches or renown.”

  Ithril was agape with wonder and a bit taken aback by the mention of the Great King. Bayard smiled slightly in thoughtful amusement, thinking that he would have been wiser to take up with such men rather than to so foolishly attempt the mountains. These men risked death on behalf of others; he had walked willingly to his doom after ample warning and for no good reason.

  “And who is to say you did not have a good reason?” asked the magpie sitting on his shoulder. Bayard jumped in surprise but the others did not seem to notice the bird or his reaction to it. It continued, “some are called to one thing and some to another path. I called and you answered. Do not regret what might have been, for things can only be as they are. I know the what ifs and the maybes but it is only for you to know what is and what has been and to see what yet shall be.” He was gone as suddenly as He had appeared. Bayard shook his head in amazement, wondering if he would ever get used to such things.

  Ithril continued as if the whole speech of the bird had taken place in no time at all, “must you serve this Great King in order to take up with the Whiteguard?”

  The man laughed, “many think Him myth at first, but all must serve Him willingly or you can have no part in us or we in you. It is a brotherhood devoted to His service and His alone. Otherwise we would just be serving ourselves and would soon fall to the evils of pride and selfishness and become nothing more than another bandit horde depredating whom we would. And what think you on the matter lad?”

  Bayard smiled, “I am at the service of the King and gladly do His will.”

  Ithril gaped, “are you serious?”

  Bayard laughed, “your brother thought me equally foolish, but I pray you do not follow his tragic example.”

  Ithril sighed, “I suppose I should withhold judgment until I have learned more, for I am yet ignorant of such things.”

  The man laughed, “now there is wisdom lad. Fear not, for many things thought to live only in story actually dwell in the real world though it might be a safer world if some such things were only myth.”

  The moon had vanished beyond the distant hills and the night grew very dark. They found a secluded place to camp an
d were soon asleep though Bayard was in no need of such rest. He needed neither sleep nor food nor water and only appeared to draw breath that others not wonder why he did not breath. Bayard kept a careful watch but no fell thing disturbed their slumber. In the morning, the man passed around some rations from his saddlebags and then they continued on their way. “We really need to get the pair of you mounted,” said the man in good-natured irritation, “else you will be my age before we reach the nearest company of the Guard.”

  At this, they turned off down a side road and pressed hard all morning and arrived outside the gates of a well-to-do lord. Ithril gave Bayard a nervous look and the guards at the gate eyed the strangers suspiciously before saying, “and what would such a trio of wandering ragamuffins demand of our Lord?”

  The man did not seem offended or intimidated in the least and said, “we would wish an audience with Lord Colwin if he would deign to see us this day. We were friends long ago, very nearly brothers; our need is great else I would not dare intrude upon his Lordship’s invaluable time.”

  The guard eyed him skeptically and said, “and who should I say is daring to bother his lordship?”

  The man said, “one whose name is not worth remembering.”

  The guard gave him a dangerous look and said, “I shall carry your message but know I am within my duties to deal with you harshly if this is some trick or a waste of my time.”

  The man nodded solemnly and said, “I expected nothing else.”

  The guard raised an eyebrow but hurried off with the message. Ithril was impatient with nervousness but Bayard and the man seemed unconcerned with the interminable wait. The guard finally returned and said quite formally but with no little amazement, “his lordship will deign to see you but you must not trouble him long. Come.”

  They followed the guard into the courtyard where the man left his horse with an attendant and then they followed the guard deep into the heart of the great house wherein sat the lord. The lord sat before a great fire stroking a grey cat upon his lap; he looked up with some surprise at his visitors but wasted no time in signaling for the guard to leave them in peace. Another look of surprise crossed the guard’s face but he quickly bowed and retreated. The three strangers bowed before his lordship, who spoke even before the door had shut behind the retreating guard, “it has been a long time Jaden, in fact I thought never to see you again. Is it not dangerous to have such as yourself consorting with an upstanding lord such as myself? How is it you have survived all this time?”

  The man smiled bemusedly and said, “I thought never again to see you, for fear of bringing the wrath of my enemies upon you, but it is a desperate thing that drives me to beg at your door. I will be gone again as soon as I can. But it is good to see you once more.”

  Colwin laughed, “ever the idealist I see! You are ever welcome though your enemies certainly are not. I know why you have stayed away but I must say that I have missed you. Now what is this dire need that forces you to visit your brother once more?”

  Jaden said, “these boys actually. I fear we have enemies not far behind us and they are afoot. I would beg the use of a pair of horses if you can spare them.”

  Colwin shook his head, “most of my horses are out in the fields or assigned to my soldiers, save one beast whose master has taken ill. There is also quite a magnificent specimen of recent acquisition but no man can sit upon him and live to tell the tale. I can give you the unfortunate’s beast and you may take your chances with the other.”

  Jaden bowed deeply and said, “you have my deepest thanks!”

  Colwin laughed, “by right all of this should be yours. The least I can do is loan you a horse. Will you yet deny your birthright?”

  Jaden smiled as if this were an old argument and said, “perhaps my birthright but not my heart’s desire. I have found my true calling and nothing save death will sunder me from it.”

  Colwin shook his head sadly, “and that is what I fear shall be your only reward for your foolishness! Let us pray you have not brought disaster upon all our heads. You had best be gone before more of the household learns of your presence. There will be rumors enough as it is.” The lord stood and briefly embraced his brother before chasing them from the room and giving the servant at the door explicit instructions as to how his visitors were to be horsed. The servant’s eyes were wide but he bowed deeply and led the strangers to the stableyard. Colwin watched his brother vanish out the door and wondered at the tales that had captured his heart and consumed his life. What could tempt a man away from a life of relative wealth and security when the majority of humanity toiled in ignominy and often lacked the nicer comforts of life? He wondered if he would ever see him again and part of him enviously wondered if he could ever find such purpose. He returned to his chair and his cat and stared into the answerless fire.

  The spare horse was saddled and brought forth. Ithril looked at the beast with trepidation, not having spent nearly as much time in the saddle as his elder brother. Jaden said, “I fear you will have to ride double, but at least it will be far swifter than walking.”

  Bayard said, “let me at least see this terrible beast of which your brother spoke. Perhaps we can get some use out of him and thereby hasten our travel.”

  The servant’s eyes were as wide as they could possibly get when he said, “you may try the beast but only a fool would attempt such an act!”

  Bayard nodded and said, “it will not hurt to at least have a look at him.”

  The servant nodded and led the boy to a small corral constructed of sturdy logs at the center of which stood a thick post driven deeply into the ground to which was tied the most fantastic horse any mortal eye had ever seen. A wild light burned in his eyes and no one who knew anything of horses would get near the beast unless he was suicidal. He was bound head and foot with length upon length of rope but even so, a deadly menace seemed to emanate from the creature. Jaden said in quiet wonder, “you had best come along lad, no mortal man can ride that beast.”

  Bayard nodded and said, “I will not be content until I have at least spoken to the animal.”

  The servant laughed in derision, “you are a fool to think such a monster can be reasoned with!”

  Bayard paid him no heed and was already straddling the fence and leaping into the pen. The horse laid his ears back and the whites of his eyes were visible all the way across the pen. His nostrils flared and the threat of imminent doom tingled in the air. Bayard showed no sign of fear or even caring, making the others wonder if he knew anything of horses at all or if he were simply a fool. He whispered quietly to the horse once he was close enough to be heard, but the others could only discern a sort of murmuring which they took for a foolish attempt at soothing the wild creature. Bayard said, “I know you are angry, frustrated, humiliated, lost, and despairing of all hope. Has freedom truly been worth the price? Are you truly free? Is this what you aspired to be one day?”

  The horse’s ears pricked in surprise and all the signs of malice vanished into those of utter confusion. “Who are you,” said the horse quietly, “that would speak to a wretched beast so and what would you have of me?”

  Bayard said, “who I am matters not, but our need is great. I would ask that you bear me from this place to one where another, more willing mount can be acquired.”

  The horse snorted in derision, “so you are simply another man who wishes to enslave my noble race?”

  Bayard said, “I ask, I do not demand. A slave has no choice. I can simply walk away and leave you as you are if you refuse me.”

  The horse sneered, “so you would leave me in the hands of these barbarians to be a slave for all my mortal days?”

  The boy said, “what would come of you if you were loosed? Were you not once free already? Were you not taken by men and would you not be taken again? I ask only that you bear me for a short time, which will also avail your escape. Once free of civ
ilized lands you can find a desolate place more to your liking away from the habitations of men to live out the rest of your days in peace.”

  The horse sighed, “and what is that to me? A life of slavery or exile holds little joy yet death is even worse! Must I endure a few years of suffering and sorrow only to be cast forever into such a miserable place that my former days appear joyful by comparison? What is the point of anything?”

  The boy asked, “are you so bereft of hope?”

  The horse eyed him as if he were a fool, “I am a rebel and a traitor in the eyes of my people and my rightful King. I have denied everything in hopes of gaining true freedom only to find myself truly a slave and forever doomed to such an existence. I have been granted my heart’s desire and find it deeply distasteful but alas, my rightful portion.”

  “Is there not hope?” asked the patient boy.

  The horse said, “perhaps for your miserable race but not for mine. I have denied the King and there is the end of the matter.”

  The boy smiled, “why is my rebellious race spared but yours is not?”

  The horse said skeptically, “what do you mean? The King offers redemption to fallen men but I have never heard it spoken that my race was in need of such an offer.”

  The boy’s smile deepened, “and how many of your race have fallen into disgrace as did the forefathers of men?”

  The horse’s eyes were wide, “none I suppose. Do you mean to say that my disgrace is no worse than the fathers of men millennia ago? If that be true then perhaps even such a wretch as I can yet be rescued from impending doom! I have been a fool but perhaps no longer. Things would have been so much better had I simply done that which I knew I should have at the first. But perhaps all is not irrevocably lost.”

  Bayard smiled, “now what of that which I ask of you?”

  The horse snorted, “it is highly demeaning for one of my race to carry one of yours, at least in this fallen sphere. Perhaps in another place and time however?”

  The boy said simply, “can things get any more demeaning in your case? Would you again let your pride keep you from that which you know is your rightful duty?”

  The horse sighed, “I suppose you must be right but I will carry no servant of the Evil One nor one bent on his own pleasure. Tell me truly if you serve the King and it is at His behest you ride on some errand of import?”

  The boy said, “this errand is truly of His making and I am but the least of His servants. You must know also that the servants of the Enemy are certainly pursuing us.”

  The horse snorted in excitement, “now then this is an errand to my liking but what if I am simply using this as an excuse to free myself and abandon you to your fate the first chance I get?”

  The boy said, “then you are a deceitful and selfish creature wholly bent on your own advancement and a true servant of the Enemy whether you have declared for him or not.”

  The horse snorted in amusement, “fear not, for I shall keep my word. You have given me hope and for that I shall do as you ask.”

  The boy said, “do it for the King and His glory, not for the sake of such a pitiful creature such as I.”

  The horse nodded, “truly spoken, now let us be upon our way. Know that it is a thing never done for my noble race to bear a mortal man.”

  The boy smiled quietly but made no reply as he began loosing the horse, which took a considerable amount of effort owing to the number of ropes that bound him. The three spectators were aghast but dared not interfere in case the horse take a fright and injure the boy worse than he already might. Finally the task was completed and the horse ran and bucked and frisked about the enclosure as the boy called, “bring me a saddle and bridle please.”

  The servant was near to fainting with amazement but ran to accomplish the task as the horse approached the boy and quietly groused, “if this thing is to be done I will not be arrayed as a common beast of burden.”

  The boy laughed, “if you wish to reveal your true nature to all and sundry feel free but you need to at least look the part else awkward questions will arise. I did not say I would use such implements to force you. In truth you could easily unseat me and be off to adventures of your own did I try.”

  The horse nodded at this seeming sense and said, “as long as we are agreed, I shall do what I must. But I am no slave but a willing accomplice.”

  The boy smiled, “as it ever should be.”

  The servant soon returned with the requested gear and the horse stood patiently while the boy tacked him up and only showed minor reluctance in taking the bit. The boy was soon in the saddle and the servant opened the gate while the horse trotted out as if he had been doing so his entire life. Jaden gasped, “how did you tame such a beast? Are you some wizard or other fell worker of dark magics?”

  The boy laughed, “be it far from me to ever attempt such a horrid thing! Sometimes a few gentle and sensible words go much farther than all the whips and ropes in the world. Had we not best be getting on?”

  The man suddenly remembered their precarious circumstances and quickly got into his own saddle while the awkward Ithril did likewise. They were soon on their way, leaving the servants to wonder if some sort of a sorcerer had not indeed spirited away that terrible horse, much to the relief of all. Once they were well away from the lands of Lord Colwin, Jaden said, “now we must ride swiftly lest the time we lost afoot be used to the advantage of those who might be following. I do not trust the look of the man at the inn, though he is not currently a threat I do not doubt he has friends.” He turned and gave Bayard a significant look, “after recent happenings boy, I am not sure I trust you fully either, but you have been true so far so I am forced to trust you. Do nothing to disappoint me; you claim to follow the King and it seems you tell the truth, but you would be wise to leave now if you mean any harm to me or mine.”

  Bayard bowed in his saddle and said, “you shall suffer no hurt on my behalf sir. I am ever your ally as long as you are faithful to the King.”

  He then turned to Ithril, “you seem in doubt of the sanity of this expedition lad. You had best make a commitment one way or the other, for as long as you ride with us you are vulnerable to the servants of the Enemy, and even if you part from us you may still be at risk for even having ridden with us.”

  Ithril sighed, “I need to know more of this King of yours. I still half think him a myth but perhaps tonight, between you both I can learn what I must to come to a decision. I greatly wish to oppose the Dark Prince and escape the snare I fear my brother has laid for me.”

  They rode hard after that and there was little time for talk. For two days they pressed on as fast as the horses could go over such distances and had little time or energy at night for anything but falling into their blankets and catching what sleep they could. Finally, Jaden slowed their pace, content that perhaps they had outrun any pursuit the Enemy might have sent after them. That night, Ithril had the energy to listen to Jaden as he spoke of the many legends of the King and His servants and the rebellion and redemption of mankind. As they fell into their blankets that night, Ithril asked of Bayard, “how did you tame that horse? I do not recall you ever having any special talent with the lesser beasts.”

  Bayard laughed, “let us just say I have learned a few things in my travels. Have you made up your mind?”

  Ithril sighed, “it all sounds so wonderful and amazing yet some part of me wishes it were all truly a story. Why cannot man just live as he wishes and then die and know no more?”

  Bayard said, “because we were made and intended for far greater things than our meager minds can even fathom or dream. Why be content to splash in the shallows when the whole ocean is yours to explore?”

  Ithril yawned, “I suppose you must be right but for now I will go to sleep.”

  Bayard got up and walked towards Jaden who was sitting up for the first watch. Jaden said as the boy approached, “s
houldn’t you be in bed?”

  Bayard shrugged and said, “I am not tired and laying still staring into the darkness is of no use. I might as well take the first watch if it means you can get some rest.”

  The man nodded his thanks but wondered if the boy did not have some sinister motive in his seeming kindness. Jaden retreated to his blankets and sleep was long in coming. Bayard waited and watched the night; he was restless and knew something lurked in the dark outside the camp. They had traveled swiftly but no horse can outrun certain of the Enemy’s minions. The horses whinnied in fear as a desolate and bone chilling howl filled the night, which brought both of the sleepers wide awake. Jaden struggled out of his blankets and reached grimly for his sword, knowing it was no use, saying, “you two had best ride. I cannot stop a Fellhound but perhaps I can slow him down or maybe he will be content with me.”

  Ithril stuttered in fear, “I thought they were just myths!”

  Bayard said grimly, “only as mythic as his master and the King. You might want to make your decision quickly for death stalks the night.”

  Ithril gasped, “is there no hope?”

  Jaden snorted, “there is always some hope, for the King has servants abroad in the world just as the Enemy, but there is no guarantee of rescue from such a foe. We mere mortals cannot hurt the beast and once they have found your scent nothing will stay him from the chase save his destruction or ours. Now ride!”

  Bayard said, “I will make a stand rather than be chased down and destroyed while I flee blindly in the night.”

  Jaden said, “you are either mad, in league with the Enemy and thus have no fear, or braver than any man I have ever heard of.”

  Bayard drew his sword and said, “you two had best get moving before your horses break loose or die of fright.”

  Jaden growled, “I thought to make my stand. Besides, I am the one giving orders here!”

  Bayard laughed, “is there any point in two dying here rather than one? Besides, I am not yet under your command!”

  Jaden sheathed his blade and said, “you are certainly a stubborn one, lad. I will give you this chance though I doubt any of us will live to see the morning.” With that, he took Ithril by the shoulder and guided the frozen boy to the panicked horses who were desperate to run. There was no sign of Bayard’s mad horse. They mounted quickly and let the horses have their heads and were soon well and truly gone. The howl sounded again in the night, this time closer.

  “What are you doing?” asked the voice of the horse from behind Bayard, “perhaps you can tame a wild horse but I doubt your charms will work on that thing!”

  Bayard smiled in anticipation, “I am not planning to soothe the wild beast save perhaps with my sword.”

  The horse snorted, “did you not listen to what the other man said? They do not die so easily as you might think upon a mortal blade!”

  Bayard said, “if you are afraid, you may go and I will count your promise fulfilled, otherwise do not distract me.”

  The beast came out of the night slowly, sniffing the air and growling under his breath. He was blacker than a starless midnight with glowing coals for eyes. He was as big as a small horse and though hound like, he had a certain reptilian cast. He sniffed cautiously at the pair before him, not quite knowing what to make of either creature. He whined pathetically and a voice spoke out of the dark, “how is it you have not fled? Come to beg for your life or that of your friends?”

  Bayard said, “be gone and leave us be or I shall make an end of your beast and therefore yourself, Houndmaster.”

  The shadow draped man laughed derisively, “you are of no account boy. You or your pathetic companions, but my master has commanded that an end be made of you and that is what shall happen unless you bend knee to the Dark.”

  Bayard said quietly, “I bend knee to the King alone as all shall do one day, even your fell lord.”

  The dark man laughed, “so be it. Take him!” He motioned and the hound was upon Bayard faster than sight, but the boy’s sword was up and the creature leapt full upon it. It whined pathetically, which escalated to a howl of absolute and utter despair as it vanished in a wisp of acrid smoke that blew away on a sudden breeze. The Houndmaster’s eyes widened, he himself became misty and then transparent, and then vanished entirely, leaving the horse and boy alone in the night.

  The horse’s eyes were no less wide as he looked at the boy. The weight of the beast had knocked Bayard to the ground but as he climbed to his feet, he did not seem injured in the least. “What is going on?” said the horse darkly, “you have not told the full truth. Who or what are you? How do you know what you know about me? How is it you can stand against such a foe and live?”

  The boy said quietly, “I have told you as much as I can for the moment, perhaps one day you will know the full tale. But then neither have you told me all your story. If that is not to your satisfaction I suggest you find another companion.”

  The horse said quietly, “this puzzles me greatly, but I must be content for the moment. I will accompany you a little longer and perhaps I can discover the answer to this riddle.”

  The boy said, “we had best go find the others.”

  The horse nodded and the boy was soon on his back, pursuing his fled companions. They had not far to go for the others had fled out of one danger into one perhaps far worse. A full dozen men in dark armor had surrounded the pair who were desperately flailing about with their swords, trying to ward off the host while a Wraith sat his hideous mount not far away and scowled, “take them alive you fools!”

  The horse whispered to the boy as they charged, “you are seriously going to take on a Wraith?”

  The boy laughed, “is there anyone else here to do such a thing? Are you with me?”

  The horse sighed, “perhaps it will not be long and I shall see my homeland again.” He screamed in fury as he charged the monstrosity and Bayard drew his sword once more.

  The Wraith looked a man but was colder than death in both his manner and to the touch; such creatures were masters of all sorts of magic vile and dark. Their preferred mounts were of an equine visage but like the Fellhound, had a vaguely reptilian feel to them and seemed part of the night itself. He laughed scornfully as the fool boy charged and eagerly spurred his beast to meet the challenge. One touch of his blade was inevitably fatal to any mortal so wounded; the beast was always hungry for fresh meat and croaked in anticipation of the coming feast. The Wraith could have simply destroyed the pair with one of his many evil enchantments but he preferred to watch his victims die slowly in despair as they succumbed to what might otherwise have been a minor wound. He easily cut the horse out from under the impetuous fool; the beast fell with the horrible scream of the mortally wounded equine and Bayard barely managed to jump free before the poor creature fell.

  The Wraith dismounted ere his beast could set upon the boy and approached ominously and with much anticipation at the spectacle to come. The boy held his sword before him and then their weapons clashed together. They exchanged several blows, as the Wraith toyed with his prey and then he struck like a snake. A slash on the boy’s shoulder would ensure a slow and amusing death and the boy’s counterstroke would be completely harmless to such as himself, except that this was not simply an ambitious boy but one of the King’s Messengers. The counterstroke took the Wraith in the chest and he fell to ash and charred bone as the stroke fell; the beast met a similar fate. Bayard went to his knees and clutched at his wounded shoulder; it burned like ice but was already beginning to heal. Had he been yet a mortal man, the creeping death would have spread slowly across his chest and frozen his breath in his lungs and stilled his heart. As one beyond death, it was simply a minor irritation though a mortal wound would have banished him back to the Sea.

  He stood and looked sadly at the horse and wondered what future lay before the poor beast. He then turned his eyes back to his embattled com
panions who had been forgotten for the moment as he took on the Wraith. There was now a full scale battle raging as a dozen men had ridden out of the night to rescue the overwhelmed pair. The Blackguard was soon overwhelmed and those not killed were quickly driven off as they witnessed the demise of their leader and lost their sense of invincibility, for what terrible enemies were these that could defeat such a creature? The newcomers were making quite a fuss over the rescued Jaden and Ithril, the latter seemed on the verge of fainting with the strangeness of the night. It seemed this was one of the roving bands of the Whiteguard and of this particular unit Jaden was captain. In the excitement, none had noticed the Wraith, Bayard, or the strange battle. Bayard decided to make his way back towards the camp before anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary. Thankfully the darkness covered his retreat as well as it had covered his entrance and the men were so lost in their jubilation that he was easily overlooked, for it would be quite difficult to explain what exactly it was that had transpired this night.

  The pale grey of dawn was just visible in the east as Bayard crept back into the little wooded dell where they had taken cover for the night but there was a different sort of light filling the little glade. There stood a Pegassi stallion in all his radiance. He whinnied for joy when he saw the boy creeping into the dell. Bayard was for a moment stunned to see such a sight in such a place, but then the marvelous creature spoke with the familiar voice of the horse in laughing joy, “at last I understand.”

  And suddenly he was just an ordinary horse again, standing there looking as regular and boring as a horse might. Bayard asked, “what happened?”

  Erian laughed, “in my rebellion I became mortal and therefore doomed to die, but not forever as those poor souls who refuse the King. And so I did. I met the King upon the shore of the Sea and He asked again if I would do that for which my race was made, else I could cross the Sea and come back no more until the Last Day. I finally said yes, and it seems at last you are properly horsed and I am doing that for which I was made!”

  Bayard smiled, “welcome home my friend. Now what?”

  Erian said, “we are to ride with these men for a time and protect them from those foes they cannot handle themselves. I think it will be rather awkward for you at least, but then it has been such since first we met! Ware, they are even now upon us.”

  Jaden crept into the clearing with drawn sword and the others followed cautiously. He dropped his sword in amazement when he saw the boy standing alive in the morning sun and his fool horse cropping away at the grass as if he were in a familiar pasture. “How?” gasped the amazed man.

  “How what?” asked Bayard a bit sheepishly.

  Jaden said quietly, “I thought we had seen the last of you. Where is the Fellhound?”

  Bayard said, “he did me no harm. I do not know where it now dwells, but I have not seen it since you two rode off. Who are your friends?”

  Jaden quickly told the tale, which Bayard already knew, and finished by saying, “I could have sworn there was a Wraith or some such thing directing those men, but who knows what really happened on such a night? Let us rest here for the day and this evening we’ll take to the road. I still do not know how the boy survived?”

  One of the older men laughed saying, “how did any of you survive this night? Perhaps he was not the thing’s rightful quarry therefore it did him no harm. Let us all just thank the King we have survived and rest while we can.”

  Two men stayed up to watch while the rest took what rest they could. Ithril whispered to Bayard as they crawled into their blankets, “what a night! I am not sure I was made for all of this excitement but then I do not think I was made to walk behind a plow either.”

  Jaden laughed beside him, “this is the most excitement I have had in twenty years in the Guard and hopefully it shall be the most excitement I ever have, else I am getting too old for such adventures!”

  Ithril yawned and replied, “then perhaps I can consider such a career after all.” They exchanged a laugh and were soon asleep.

  Late afternoon crept upon them and all climbed into their saddles to put some distance between themselves and the place where the Enemy knew they had last been. They rode steadily until there was no more light to see and they were forced to make camp. “Captain,” said one of the younger men in the party quietly to Jaden as the others were busy making camp, “who are these newcomers? I do not think I trust them, at least not the older of the pair. No one faces a Fellhound and lives, save perhaps a servant of the Enemy.”

  The captain nodded thoughtfully, “the younger of the two is still something of a skeptic but I yet have hope for him. The other is certainly an oddity; I have no reason to distrust him but there are so many strange occurrences surrounding him that I know not what to think.”

  The younger man said, “I think I will keep a close eye on him if I have your leave. The last thing we need are spies and traitors in our midst.”

  The captain nodded grimly and said, “I think that would be an excellent idea but speak of this to no one but me.”

  They rode on for several days and resumed the patrol that the incursion of the Blackguard had interrupted, but nothing of note happened. The others in the party spoke eagerly with Ithril but they felt awkward and unsure around Bayard and for the most part ignored him unless they stared at him suspiciously when they thought he was not looking. Bayard took no notice of their behavior for he knew there were things about himself that he could not explain and without that, they had only their imaginations to explain things which was far from satisfactory and often stranger than the truth. One night, one of the scouts came back with a report of an encampment of the Blackguard not far to the south. Jaden ordered his men into their saddles and they rode to confront their perennial foes.

  When they arrived at the campsite, they found it abandoned but had no time to ponder what this might mean for the horses suddenly went mad with terror and their ranks were thrown into chaos. A Dreadlord upon his fell winged reptile stepped into their midst and men were thrown to the ground or carried off by their panicked mounts. The Blackguard had seen the scout and retreated so that they might ambush their attackers. As the horses panicked, so did the hidden Blackguard fall upon their scattered enemies. Erian was the only horse in the entire Whiteguard that did not panic but Bayard’s heart sank as he somehow recognized this particular Dreadlord as Tyne. Tyne easily recognized Bayard and a dreadful curiosity mixed with a sneer spread across his face. “You are dead,” said Tyne incredulously.

  Bayard unsheathed his sword and said simply, “it seems you are worse than dead.”

  Tyne laughed in his own horrible way, “I have found true power!”

  Bayard shook his head sadly, “you have found a living death.”

  Tyne mocked, “and what of you? What kind of an existence have you discovered? I am immortal and you are still but a wretched boy! Give me my brother and I shall perhaps spare you.”

  Bayard glanced around and could see none of the others, for they had been scattered with the appearance of the Dreadlord. Bayard said, “he is not mine to give or to keep but I shall defend his life with my own.”

  Tyne scoffed, “you have no life to give! You are but a ghost and I shall give you a second death.”

  He spurred the winged reptile forward and Erian screamed his battle cry. Their swords clashed together as battle was met. Bayard took a glancing blow on the shoulder the Wraith had injured previously and it felt like hot iron had been thrust into the nearly healed wound. He screamed but managed to drive his own blade into Tyne’s chest. The winged reptile screamed as it fell to dust and Tyne vanished with a howl and breath of smoke. Bayard knew it was not the last time they would meet. As Erian turned, Bayard saw Jaden fighting desperately with two of the Blackguard. Erian said quietly, “this is a foe against which your sword will not avail.”

  Bayard sheathed his blade and sighed, “I
know but I wish there was something I could do.” The captain managed to fell one of his foes but was mortally wounded by the other, but he returned the favor before he fell to the ground and lay still. With the loss of the Dreadlord, the horses quieted and the heart went out of the Blackguard, allowing the Whiteguard to fight back and win the day though not without a cost. Several were wounded and the captain was dead; they had also lost several of the horses which had either been killed or had run off in terror at sight of the Dreadlord. There was also the question of treason to be addressed.

  The suspicious young soldier who had previously spoken to the captain about his mistrust of Bayard spoke up before the entire discouraged company, “this man is a traitor and a spy! I saw him stand by as the captain fought for his life and he did nothing!” The man pointed blatantly at Bayard and the gathered company murmured darkly, for they were greatly upset at both the ambush and the loss of their leader and had always been distrustful of the boy. The man continued, “what has he to say for himself on that point? What has he to say about all the strange goings-on that seem to surround him? There can be no other explanation than that he has betrayed us to the Enemy, perhaps on multiple occasions!”

  They looked accusingly at Bayard who said, “I can offer no testimony in my own defense save that I am as grieved by the captain’s loss as any of you.”

  “Hah,” scoffed his accuser, “then why did you not render him aide even if it came too late.”

  Bayard said quietly, “there was nothing I could have done though every fiber of my being wished to do something.”

  The young man continued, “did anyone see him confronting the Blackguard? Where was he during the fighting?”

  Ithril spoke up nervously, “is this not what the Enemy would want? Infighting within the ranks of his foes? Your late captain certainly would not approve.”

  The man scoffed, “and who are you to speak up? You who are perhaps in league with this spy?” Ithril dropped his eyes and mumbled something inaudible. Said the suspicious soldier, “let us have a vote and see if this company is willing to continue trusting this wretch!” There were many murmurs of ascent and the vote was called. None voted in favor of the boy and Ithril dared not vote at all. “Now,” said the ringleader darkly, “we have declared him a spy and we shall dispense with him as our laws demand.”

  The soldier raised his sword and Ithril screamed in terror, “no!”

  Bayard waited patiently and made no move towards his own blade but said simply, “this is not justice but murder!” He said no more, for the sword was raised and as the man struck the fatal blow, the boy vanished in a flash of light, making all wonder what had happened; his horse also vanished that day.

  “What happened,” gasped one of the men, “there was something truly unnatural about that boy and I begin to wonder if he was rather a servant of the King than of the Enemy?”

  Snarled the murderous soldier, “he was nothing but a spy and this proves it. What of you boy? Will you admit your own vile connections?” Ithril’s eyes filled with tears and he ran from the murderous band without a second look. “Let the fool go,” growled the soldier still holding his sword.

  “I think I will go too,” said one soldier, “I have been a fool and have not the heart to remain in the same unit that would vote to do such a thing so rashly!”

  “Go then,” snarled the suspicious man, “and take all such heretics with you!” The entire band stood as one and left the man alone with his wrath. They disbanded that night and some sought service with another band of the Guard, while others settled down and raised a family, and still others went from place to place speaking of the King. The angry man went south and was never seen among living men again.

  Ithril found himself weeping alone in the night with no idea where he was or why. He had come to hope that this King might actually be real but if this were what His followers were like it must truly be myth. “You judge Me by the failings of mortal men?” squawked a magpie from the branch above his head.

  Ithril looked up in astonishment, “who are you?” The bird just looked at him and he nodded thoughtfully, “I suppose you must be right but what have I to do with you?”

  The bird laughed, “the better question is what have I to do with any sort of fallen creature such as yourself? But yet I would have none lost but alas, some choose poorly and I will not renege on my gift that they might choose their own fates. Now what of your choice?”

  The boy gaped, “I would very much like to be on Your side Sire but I fear I am not of much use.”

  Laughed the bird, “all I need is a willing heart, I will provide the rest as it is needed in your service. Here then is what you shall do…”

  Bayard awoke on the Beach, with the gentle waves lapping at his feet. Erian stood at his shoulder and nudged him gently with his muzzle. He put a hand to his head and shakily stood; Erian whinnied his approval and set to bucking and rearing in his excitement, saying, “it is good to be home once more.”

  Bayard shook his head in amusement at the Pegassi’s antics; his smile deepened as he looked further up the beach. He turned to the winged creature, which was now frisking in the waves, saying, “if you are done fooling around my dear Pegassi, we have work to do.”

  Erian cocked his head and followed the gaze of his friend and saw what had drawn his attention. The Pegassi snorted, “at least he will finally get his questions answered.” They approached the late captain who stood gazing about himself in wonder, but as yet his back was towards them and he thought himself quite alone in all this strange and wonderful world. Erian’s whicker caused the man to turn suddenly and it took him a moment to fully recognize the boy, for he was quite overawed by the glorious Pegassi at his shoulder.

  Bayard grinned, “are you now satisfied captain that I am no fell servant of evil?”

  Jaden shook his head in wonder, “it is all quite overwhelming, but this explains much! What of your tale? And Ithril’s brother?”

  Bayard shook his head, “my tale was very much as I told you, save that it was death that sundered us. Tyne must have taken up with some servant of the Dark One shortly after I fell, for he has become a Dreadlord, the same which fell upon you and your men this very day.”

  The captain smiled in anticipation, “I have entered upon a very strange profession I think.”

  Erian spoke, “quite strange to mortal sensibilities at least, but quite wonderful nonetheless.”

  The captain cocked his head, “the wild horse?”

  Erian performed a lovely bow, “the same.”

  Jaden smiled, “this day just keeps getting stranger.”

  “And so it will,” said a new voice, “at least until you quit thinking like a mortal and start thinking like a Messenger. Come! We have errands to be about.” A smile nearly split the captain’s face as he was introduced to the newly arrived Pegassi mare and formed a bond that would last until one or both decided to cross oversea.

  “The lady is right,” whinnied Erian as Bayard leapt aback his own mount and they vanished upon their next quest. Jaden shook his head in wonder and did likewise.

  Ithril soon found the man to whom the Master had sent him; the old man sat smoking a pipe at the back of an empty common room in an inn which it seemed the world had forgot. The place was so lively that even the innkeeper found time for a nap this time in the afternoon. The man looked curiously at the boy as he introduced himself and took a seat across from the aged storyteller. The boy then proceeded to tell his strange tale, after which the astonished man said, “lad that is quite the story, and believe me I know many a tale. If it be true, and from the way you speak it I cannot doubt it, you are in grave danger. I can answer your questions but I can offer you neither safety nor comfort, for if you truly are hunted by your brother and he is a true servant of evil, there is no haven or refuge for you short of the Sea.”

  The boy gasped, “but no one
can survive that journey.”

  The man shook his head sadly, “neither will you survive a Dreadlord’s wrath. Better to die escaping than to be captured and eventually surrender to the will of our enemies.”

  The fear in Ithril’s eyes hardened into a determination to avoid his brother at all costs. He nodded slowly and said, “then I had best not remain in one place too long, but I do have a few questions ere I go.” They talked long into the afternoon and finally as the meager evening crowd began to trickle in, the boy bid his mentor adieu and vanished out the back of the inn. The man watched him go and wondered what lay ahead for the poor lad.

  Bayard and Erian stood silently in the gathering dark outside the forgotten inn and exchanged a smile when their quarry emerged into the night. The boy had no idea they were warding his steps and keeping the servants of evil from falling upon him. He thought himself alone in all the world, hunted by forces he could not even begin to comprehend for reasons he could not fathom, but it was simply a matter of vengeance, for Tyne had vowed to have his brother a fellow servant of evil or else to see him dead, and he would not rest until the matter was finished. But he was not alone, as are all who fully trust in the Master, and he would not fall an easy victim to his brother’s schemes. He likely would not survive the adventure but there are more important things in life (and beyond) than death. In exhaustion he lay down in a quiet dell and was quickly asleep while others watched that he might do so in peace.

  It was a rather uneventful journey for Ithril, at least initially, for those minions of evil that did make an appearance in search of the boy or who might report him to their fell masters were quickly and silently dealt with by his unseen guardians. And as he yet traveled through civilized lands, he was able to find enough generous souls in his wanderings that he did not starve nor always have to sleep rough. It was so easy a journey that the boy began to wonder if indeed he truly were hunted as he had thought or if it were all a strange dream. Was there not something else he could do with his life save throw it away in a desperate flight into the Mountains? Where fear and danger could not overcome, perhaps complacency could undermine his natal faith, but ere he could shrug the whole ordeal off silly dream, the Mountains were before him. His stomach complained, for he had not seen a human habitation in two days nor eaten in that time either. He looked fearfully up into those cloud-shrouded peaks and wondered if it truly must be so. “What troubles you lad?” came a curious and amused voice. Ithril turned to stare in wonder and surprise at the short, aged man sitting beneath a weathered signpost beside a wandering track leading up into the hills.

  The boy sighed, “I have had such strange adventures of late and it seems death or submission to evil must be the inevitable outcome. I thought I must retreat into the heights but only death lurks therein, yet worse may yet pursue me if I do not, but my travels have been without danger or incident and I begin to doubt the sanity of my original intent.”

  The man cocked his head and asked, “and what danger could drive a man willingly into those hills?”

  The boy shivered, “my brother has become a fell servant of evil and pursues me that I may do likewise which I am loath to do. It is death behind and death ahead. What am I to do?”

  The man smiled sadly, “take to the hills boy, at least there you may evade the clutches of evil. I would not doubt my original intent for the sake of a lull in your adventures; continue on as you know you must and all will be well in the end though the middle might be dark and desperate.”

  The boy nodded grimly, “not the words I wanted to hear but those that I needed. I thank you for your wisdom sir.”

  The little man smiled, “I can not only feed your resolve lad but also your body, take this bit of food with you ere you faint upon the way. It will be a difficult enough journey without starving upon it.” Ithril took the proffered bag, thanked the little man again, and with a much heartened spirit, set out anew. The little man winked at Bayard and Erian as they ghosted silently after.

  Bayard asked Erian in surprise, “he can see us?”

  Erian shook his head in amusement, “he is no mortal man but some cousin of Elfkind and a fellow servant of our Master.”

  Bayard smiled in remembrance, “it was he that sat in the same spot and gave direction to Tyne and me when we passed this way what seems a lifetime ago.”

  Erian continued, “and so he will sit and give direction to all those weary wanderers who seek some greater purpose or meaning than that which the wide world has yet been able to give them until the Mountains themselves crumble into the Sea and all is made new.”

  Bayard nodded thoughtfully, cast a parting salute at the little man, and continued their pursuit of Ithril. The boy had climbed high into the hills and was starting his journey into the very heart of the Mountains when Bayard began to recognize the country through which they passed. He said quietly to Erian, though the boy could neither see nor hear them, “this was the way I came and it is very near this spot that I…”

  He broke off as he recognized the rocky precipice where he had made his last stand as a mortal man, but thankfully the woods were now blissfully silent and there seemed no imminent threat to the boy. Erian turned his great head and eyed his rider, “we can do nothing to aide the boy if the normal denizens of this place decide to move against him. All we may do is ward him from the servants of evil over whom mortals have no power.”

  Bayard said thoughtfully, “that I know, but it will be hard to stand aside and do nothing.”

  Erian said in surprise as he swung his head back around to look upon their quarry, “we may not have long to wait! What is he doing?”

  Bayard shook his head and grinned in amusement, “he is still a very young man, remember. And most boys cannot resist an adventure, especially one that might yield real treasure.”

  “He is going to get himself killed,” sighed the confused Pegassi.

  Bayard laughed, “I never said we were all that smart when it comes to this sort of thing, besides it adds to the thrill of the adventure.”

  Erian shook his head, “humans!”

  They watched the boy vanish over the side of the cliff as he carefully made his way to the bottom of the chasm wherein he had seen the flash of sunlight on some shiny object far below. Erian reared and with one sweep of his great wings they found themselves now in the bottom of the ravine looking up as Ithril cautiously made his way down. A few bones and a fractured human skull lay strewn about and the unfortunate’s dagger lay flashing in the sun; it was this that had attracted Ithril’s attention. Erian shook his head in wonder, “he is risking his life for that?” Bayard said nothing but watched thoughtfully as the boy made his final descent into the bottom of the chasm.

  He glanced at the bones with some trepidation and then his eyes fell upon his quarry. He was a bit disappointed to find all his effort exerted for the sake of a rusting belt knife, and he felt something like a grave robber as he picked up the discarded weapon and made a cursory study of the object. He dropped it in surprise and drew forth his own specimen and then retrieved the former for comparison. Erian cocked his head in confusion, “what can be so fascinating about a rusty knife?”

  Bayard smiled slightly in knowing, “that blade will look very familiar as they were made by the same man. The only difference is probably the initial engraved on the hilt.”

  Erian turned a great eye on his rider, “and how would you know that?”

  Bayard’s smile deepened, “because that was my knife and it was forged by the same village smith that wrought Ithril’s.”

  In the meantime, Ithril had also made this discovery and stared about him in horrified wonder. The knife had obviously belonged to Bayard and the bones lying haphazardly about were also undoubtedly his, but how could that be when Ithril was certain the boy had perished many long miles to the south? “How?” asked the boy to the air.

  “How indeed?” came the mocking reply
. In his surprise, Ithril dropped both knives as he stepped back in alarm, not that either would have availed him against a Dreadlord. Tyne continued to mock his brother, “is this how you would end too? Would you have your bones scattered by scavengers and gnawed by rodents as you lie unburied and unmourned, or would you rather not taste of death at all and find life and power unending?”

  “Is your wretched existence truly life Tyne or a living death?” asked Bayard as he stood with sword drawn between the Dreadlord and his prey.

  “Be gone fell ghost!” scowled Tyne as he found himself sundered from his quarry, “he is mine!”

  Bayard snorted a laugh, “dream on. He may choose his own end. As did each of us, and so do all men. Back away and we need not fight.”

  Tyne drew his own sword and snarled, “you will do nothing but delay me for a moment and then I will again have the boy within my clutches.”

  Bayard rolled his eyes at Tyne’s drama and then leapt upon his old friend. Ithril’s legs had given way beneath him in shock as he watched the two tangle for a moment before Tyne took Bayard’s blade in the chest and vanished with a horrid wail and a gust of smoke, leaving only Bayard and the terrified Ithril in the little valley. Bayard sheathed his blade and gave the flabbergasted boy a full minute to regain the use of his wits and his tongue. Finally Ithril stammered, “you are…were…must be…dead…”

  “Yes,” said Bayard plainly, “but that does not mean my usefulness to the Master has ceased. Nor will yours.” There was no reply for the boy had fainted dead away.

  Erian eyed his friend in amusement, “you certainly have a way with mortals.”

  Bayard shook his head but said nothing as he hefted the prone form aback Erian and mounted himself. In a moment they had returned to the top of the cliff where the whole adventure had begun and Ithril began to stir as they deposited him on the sward. He sat up and rubbed his temples saying, “this has all been one ridiculous dream has it not?”

  Bayard grinned, leapt aback Erian, and said before the pair vanished, “it will only get stranger.”

  Ithril gaped about him but he was alone and could only scratch his head in amazement. He crawled to the edge of the precipice and stared down into its depths and caught the flash of sunlight on two knives now instead of just one. He sat back and sighed, the amount of rust on that blade and the state of the bones told him that it had been some time since their former owner had fallen into the chasm and breathed his last. They had been there months if not a year before his own strange adventures began which must mean that he had not seen the true end of Bayard, the boy had been slain well before that and he certainly was no ghost or rotting corpse upon this meeting. Hope stirred in Ithril’s heart as he began to understand that though this adventure was sure to claim his life, it would not be the end of his adventures. He shuddered to think what might have come of him had he fallen into his brother’s clutches. A true and honest death was much to be preferred over his brother’s current state, no matter what power and advantages came with it. He stood and almost eagerly continued his journey higher into the Mountains.

  “How far will he get?” asked Bayard of Ryan.

  The Messenger shook his head, “only the Master knows. I will keep an eye on him. You four have other business to be about.”

  Bayard shared a curious grin with Jaden before they both mounted and headed into the dense forest that carpeted the slopes of the surrounding mountains. The two Messengers had appeared on the scene the moment Bayard vanished from Ithril’s perception though not from that point in space and time. Sebiki, Jaden’s mare said, “this shall be a rather strange mission.”

  Erian shook his head, “all must hear the Truth, even the Elves.”

  The mare blew out her nostrils, “but they know the Truth! They lived it! And they abandoned it to seek their own way.”

  Erian pinned his ears back, “so did I and yet I repented. They too shall have that chance.”

  Sebiki sighed, “I had forgotten that was possible.”

  Bayard grinned, “of all of us, you are the only one who has never had to live with the realities of rebellion and death.”

  She nodded, “such are merely theories and legends to my people, save Erian who has lived them. I will have much to learn upon the subject. I only hope it has a happy ending.”

  Erian shook his head, “for a few it might but they have lived with pride and bitterness so long I fear nothing we can say will change their stubborn hearts.”

  Jaden asked, “I did not think the elves were that fond of mortal men.”

  Bayard shook his head, “they are not. One of their arrows lies with my bones at the base of the cliff we just vacated.”

  Erian snorted a laugh, “then it is a very good thing that neither of you are mortal men, but I do not think they will be any happier to see two of their old countrymen ere they vacated their first home.”

  Sebiki asked, “then how are we to gain their attention that we might tell what we must if they abhor the very thought of us?”

  Bayard said stiffly, “we will have no trouble gaining their attention.”

  His tone warned the others that they were no longer alone in the tangled woodland; they could see a dozen or more lithe, humanoid creatures moving and whispering among the undergrowth. As one, the elves stepped out of their concealment and challenged these intruders into their solitude. The captain of the group snarled, “what do you want? Never have strangers penetrated so deeply into our territory, thus defiling our land by their mere presence. Speak fools, ere the ability is permanently taken from you!” Unlike Ithril, whose mortal eyes could not see certain things beyond mortal gaze, these elves could see beyond Time and thus the Messengers could not conceal their presence from them, but their true identity yet remained hidden as all they saw were two men on drab horses.

  Bayard said, “we have been sent to speak to your King and all your folk upon a most important matter.”

  The Captain snorted, “what of importance can a mere child of men have to impart to the least of our folk? You fool! You have ridden to your death and by it shall our land be cleansed of your vile presence.”

  Jaden shook his head, “we are merely messengers but our message has a voice and import far beyond the comprehension of any wretched mortal creature. Hear our tale and then we shall trouble you no more.”

  The captain scoffed, “and what fool thinks himself great enough that he dares send word to the elves?”

  Erian said, “we come at the behest of the Master Himself. You might as well hear what we have to say else you will never be rid of us.”

  The captain and his men startled at the voice of the seeming horse and his confusion soon turned to anger as he said, “you speak beast, what then are you? Since you are no mere horse as your appearance declares.” Erian reared, pawed the air, and spread his wings as the glory of their Master engulfed them and radiated off of them. For a moment the elves were stunned into silence but the captain soon spat, “a Pegassi! Your wretched alliance with Men was one of the reasons we left in the first place!”

  Bayard grinned, “then you know full well who and what we are and the quickest way to be rid of us is to allow us to speak our part then we shall leave you in peace.”

  “Very well,” snarled the captain, “but the King has yet to speak upon this matter.”

  Reluctantly the elves lead them to their city hidden deep within the recesses of the forest where the King and all his folk were not amused in the least to see such pathetic creatures, but knowing resistance was vain, they pretended to listen that they might hurry the intruders on their way. The Messengers held forth and found themselves very nearly pushed out of the city the moment they finished speaking. Erian shook his head in disgust, “that seemed a complete waste of time!”

  A familiar voice squawked overhead, “and what is Time to you My dear Pegassi? And how do you know your words have truly bee
n vain?” The four bowed as the Magpie vanished into the forest and then shared a joyful gaze before vanishing on their next errand.

  Ithril picked his way carefully through the rocky maze of boulders and stunted trees and nameless weeds. It was a grim part of the mountains he had entered and it appeared that his surroundings would only grow worse as he ascended. He sighed, knowing the legend that even the air itself turned against mortal men if they climbed too high, he almost wished it all to be over. He stumbled in weariness, thirst, and hunger; he was lonely beyond anything he had ever known before. How had he ever thought this would be a good idea? Finally he sat down upon the nearest rock and put his head in his hands; what was the point? Suddenly he felt curious eyes upon him and turned to look at what dread thing had finally found him; he flinched to see a face that seemed of an age with himself but the flaxen hair and pointed ears told him that this was no wandering boy but one of the dreaded elves that had no love of mortal men. In his weakened state, he did the only sensible thing he could and fainted once more. Aboril looked down in dismay at the prone young man, he had not meant to frighten the poor creature. The words of the strange Messengers had stirred his heart and he meant to return to the lands forsaken by his parents, but no one had wanted to come with him. When his elders discovered his thoughts he was very nearly banished. So alone he ascended the slope, seeking that which lurked upon the far side, but growing very lonely he was delighted to find another sapient creature among the barren and rocky wasteland in which he now found himself.

  He managed to rouse the boy with a little water from his bottle and as Ithril awoke, he was quite surprised to find gentle eyes looking into his own. He was quite certain he should be dead or imprisoned at this point; finally curiosity forced him to speak and the two quickly exchanged stories and unanimously agreed to seek the other side of the mountains together. Aboril’s food did much to hearten and strengthen the weakened Ithril and their mutual companionship greatly encouraged them both. For several days they climbed higher until Ithril found breathing difficult and most growing things had been left far behind.

  Ithril sat down on a rock, panting and said, “I cannot go much further else I shall lose my breath entirely.”

  Aboril’s answer was lost in vile laughter as Tyne once again ruined his brother’s day by his mere presence. He had little interest in the boy at this point, save some vague notions of revenge, but his master had sent him in pursuit of the renegade elf, for it would be quite a triumph to subvert one such of that recalcitrant people to the Dark One’s yoke. Tyne launched a spear at his winded brother and pinned him to the boulder against which he had been leaning; his punctured lung made it all the more difficult to breath and he began to gape like a landed fish. Aboril stood in horror, frozen between running to aid his wounded friend or fleeing for his life from this apparition that he knew to his core was after him. Such confusion was taken from him as there came a brilliant light, the rush of wings, and strong arms grasped him.

  Said Jaden as he swooped to the rescue aback Sebiki, “I will bear you over the mountains lad if that is still your goal.” Aboril nodded dumbly, desperately wanting to help his friend. Jaden said quietly, “there is nothing you can do for your friend lad. You could only end in the grasp of the evil one.” Aboril sighed heavily but allowed himself to be borne to safety with a heavy heart which was soon forgotten as his eyes fell upon the home he had never known.

  Bayard stood over the gasping Ithril with sword drawn as Jaden stooped upon the elf and bore him safely away. Tyne howled in absolute fury and fell upon his perennial foe with a vengeance and soon overwhelmed Bayard, banishing him back to the Sea. The last thing the gaping Ithril saw was Tyne leaning over him with fury burning deep in his eyes, finally he lost his fight for air and his mortal struggles were at an end. Tyne sighed deeply, dreading what his terrible master would do when his failure was discovered. He turned his dread beast and sought long until he found one of Aboril’s kin abroad in the open. The wretched creature was easily taken and Tyne bore him South to see if he might not somehow salvage his life with his alternative hostage.

  Ithril gazed about him in wonder, feeling as if his adventures had been far too easy if this was what lay at journey’s end. His heart yearned to go oversea, but he also felt he yet had something to accomplish on the other side of the mountains. He hoped Aboril had not been too lonely after the loss of his companion. What did an elf do if ever they crossed the mountains? “The same thing that men may choose when they do likewise, save we need not taste of death to do it,” said a familiar voice now tinged with unspeakable joy. Ithril turned about in wonder and slight amusement, knowing now that he must have spoken aloud. Even more wonderful to Ithril was the sight of the captain and Bayard as they welcomed the newest recruits into the Messengers. They exchanged greetings and introductions all around before the two were completely overwhelmed in joy and awe as a pair of Pegassi alighted on the beach. Now properly horsed, Jaden paired up with the elf and Bayard took charge of Ithril and all four vanished, leaving the eternal beach to itself.

  “This looks like…!” Ithril gasped in amazement, prematurely ending his speech.

  “Yes,” said Bayard quietly, “we have come home, though it can no longer be that to us.”

  Ithril grinned, “you will have to lead as I have no idea what I am doing.”

  Bayard returned the smile, “neither do I. It seems one is always learning as you go in this business.”

  Erian cocked his head, “does that not always keep it interesting?”

  The Messengers laughed, “that it certainly does.” Ithril sobered, “will they know us?”

  Bayard nodded grimly, “it will not be easy telling your parents what has come of Tyne.”

  Ithril nodded gravely but then smiled, “nor easy telling them we have not come home to plow fields, though I think a Pegassi might make short work of such a task.”

  Erian snorted, “not quite the work to which our Master has destined us I think.”

  “No,” said Bayard with a grin, “but an interesting concept nonetheless. That might very well have been your fate my dear Pegassi had you not returned willingly to our Master.”

  Erian shivered in horror at the thought, but could not answer, for a woman had noticed the two strangers on the edge of the village and was quickly making her way towards them. By her speed, it must be Helma, the town gossip, for only their mothers would have reason to approach them with such haste and they were too far away to be recognized. She drew in a sharp breath as she recognized the missing boys, and regaining some composure she crossed her arms and scolded, “now where have you two been all this time? And where is that other boy that ran off with you? Most unwise that, but I guess you are home now. What your parents will think! We all thought you dead or worse…”

  She carried on for a full five minutes half scolding, half eager to discuss this bit of news with all and sundry. She seemed oblivious to the Pegassi, who shook their heads in amusement and then vanished with one sweep of their great wings, leaving the boys to the mercy of Helma. She continued to rattle on, but Bayard began moving towards the center of the village, forcing her to walk as she blathered; Ithril followed in silent amusement, exchanging a knowing grin with his friend. To think they had held this woman and her tongue in greatest dread, never knowing what new tale of mischief might reach their respective mother’s ears. Now her prattle seemed quaint, almost amusing, and brought something of nostalgia with it, a sense of grateful remembrance of things that could no longer be, like the last scent of a fading rose at the very end of summer. As they made their way into the village, a small crowd began to gather as the residents left their current task to gape at the wonder of strangers in the village, perhaps hoping to be spared Helma’s view of things in witnessing the event themselves. There were several gasps as the boys were recognized and people went running to alert the entire town, most especially the kin of the r
eturned wanderers.

  Within minutes, the village green was filled with amazed and eager villagers hoping for some explanation as to their disappearance and return, foremost among them were the parents of the missing boys. There were many eager greetings but Ithril’s mother seemed troubled as she asked her late son, “where is your brother?”

  Before the boy could answer, a harsh voice grated, “that is none of your concern woman. Now step aside and leave these wretches to me.” The woman turned white and fainted dead away upon sighting the speaker. The villagers drew back in horror as a Dreadlord, not Tyne, stood forth and grabbed each of the boys by their throats, saying, “you two will come with me.” He glared around at the remainder of the villagers and snarled, “there are none others here that interest me. Bring the fools and let us be on our way.”

  A trembling man in the uniform of the Blackguard motioned for his men to secure the prisoners which the Dreadlord had flung to the ground like so much refuse. Ithril’s eyes were wide with surprise but Bayard wore an amused half smile. They had gone for their swords the moment they sensed the Dreadlord but the weapons were not there, thus there must be some other point to this exercise than simply vanquishing one of their perennial foes. They allowed themselves to be captured and drug along by the unwitting Blackguard, leaving the terrified villagers to stare after them in horror. The weeping of their mothers smote their ears as they lost their sons anew.

  It was not far to the camp of the Blackguard and as it was late in the day, there they remained for the night. The latest additions to the party were flung into the midst of four other boys who jumped aside ere they were landed upon. The new captives set themselves upright and stared after their retreating captors in astonishment. “Welcome to the bitterest days of your lives,” said one of the boys with a regal bearing, “we are all of us unwilling slaves to the Dark Prince.”

  The Dreadlord’s harsh voice snarled, “you had best become willing slaves or you will cease to exist at all. I have met my quota, captain now see that they do not get lost or injured on the road to Golcamoth or I shall hold you responsible.”

  The captain stuttered in terror, “yes my lord.” Satisfied, the monster mounted his hideous beast and vanished from the camp which sighed in relief at his going. They might be allies but there was no joy on either side in cooperating in such a manner, but so did their dark master bid it and they were all too terrified to gainsay such orders.

  The captain turned to the six captive boys and snarled, “go to sleep. The sooner we reach our destination, the sooner I will be rid of you.” He stormed off, leaving the boys in the charge of the two most junior soldiers in the company.

  After the camp quieted into the routine of evening, Bayard felt that the time had come to speak, “what have we become entangled in?”

  The only boy that had thus far spoken snapped, “quiet, do you want to get us all in trouble?”

  “They should at least know what they are facing Rork,” said a timid boy from the furthest corner of their small huddle, “you are no Prince here.”

  Rork scowled, “no, we are all of us slaves, but that gives you no advantage over the rest of us, just because you have been a slave your entire life.”

  Ithril gaped, “is this true?”

  Peppin, the former slave said, “we come from all walks of life from Royal Bloodlines to the most meager of men. None knows how or why they pick whom they will, only that the Dreadlords come and choose one or two or none and send them to Golcamoth, from whence they never return, at least not as mortal men, but once you have been so chosen you have no other choice.”

  Bayard crossed his arms, “there is always a choice.”

  A snort from outside their little circle caused them all to cower for a moment as one of the young guards joined their conversation, more curious than upset. Said he, “you have no idea what awaits you. They choose whom they will. If you are selected from amongst the Guard it is considered quite an honor though I myself have no interest in that sort of thing.” He shuddered, “and hope never to know quite what that honor entails. But the slave is right. None comes out unchanged. There is but one choice.”

  Bayard shook his head, “there is always a choice!”

  The guard scoffed, “and what would that be my bold little farmer? Have you ever even left your village? I saw your mother weeping as we drug you away and when you return even she will not recognize you.”

  He shivered again, “but then you will be the one giving me orders.”

  Ithril asked, “what is he talking about?”

  Bayard said grimly, “Golcamoth is where Dreadlords and all such are birthed.” They all shuddered at the thought. Continued he, “but we still have a choice.”

  “And what choice is that? Death?” scoffed the royal hostage.

  Bayard looked at his challenger with stern, un-boyish eyes, “that must certainly be better than the living death the Dark One intends. Would you be a miserable slave, doomed for all eternity for utter darkness? These creatures may be powerful but they are wretched to the very core of their being, the Master alone offers true freedom though we buy it with our lives.”

  A sharp slap across the face silenced the vociferous boy as the captain snarled, “enough boy! I will have no more heresy from you. I would kill you now save that you must arrive at Golcamoth intact, at least there they can do away with you properly. You will submit to your rightful master or you will die in agony. Now silence!” He turned dreadful eyes upon the recalcitrant guard, “for your part in this, you too will make the journey as a captive and you shall have your part in those things you wish to avoid.”

  The guard gasped in terror but was soon stripped of his weapons and armor, bound, and found himself joining his former prisoners. He said quietly to Bayard, “I hope you are right.” There was no sleep for any of them that night.

  The days that followed were miserable and tedious to the captives, save perhaps for the Messengers whose physical forms did not suffer from the abuses heaped upon them by their captors and who had an unending hope in their Master. They were roused before dawn, fed an unappetizing gruel, and forced to march all day at the pace set by their mounted captors only to fall into a dejected sleep after an equally bland supper. Day after day and night after night there was no change in their routine, only in the weather. They marched mercilessly through heat, dust, cold, rain, and wind into the very South of the world. Civilization gave way to wildlands and eventually even weeds would not grow in the lands about them. The sun sweltered overhead by day and the wan moon froze them by night. Dust and rocks were the only things that grew in this grey and featureless land. No hill or river broke the dismal plain yet on they marched into the very heart of oblivion. The only bit of joy or interest or hope came in the form of whispered stories and encouragement from the two unflappable Messengers who often found themselves severely punished by their captors for their temerity. But through their efforts, the hearts of their companions did not break as their masters thought they must.

  “Six are hand picked by one of the Dreadlords, the other is a rebellious guard of my own command. I leave them in your keeping and take no more responsibility for them,” said the captain as he left his captives in the charge of a stunted, grey-skinned creature with horrible teeth and cruel eyes.

  The monster said, “so be it. Any problems with this lot?”

  The captain laughed darkly, “those two on the end are not quite as hopeless as may be desired but I am sure you will quickly rectify the situation.”

  The creature smiled hideously, “that will be my pleasure. You may resume your patrol and we shall deal with these wretches.” The captain and his men retreated hastily from the grim fortress that was Golcamoth even though evening was well advanced. This was no place where mortal men chose to linger, even those in the sway of his dark majesty. Bayard had glimpsed many of the Dark One’s servants in this place, many to w
hich he could give no name, but none were mortal. It seemed the quaking prisoners were the only representatives of humanity in this grim place. The Creature (for that was its name) paced before his new victims, “this place will become either your grave or your path to power. Heretics will not be tolerated. Your journey here will seem an enjoyable thing as compared to that which is to come until we destroy you or you choose wisely. If you wish to spare yourselves the pain to come, you may submit immediately to our dark master or you may suffer the usual penalties until you come to such a decision.” The prisoners cowered in terror.

  The Creature went on, “one of you is a traitor and two are heretics. We shall make examples of you immediately unless you are willing to submit this very moment.”

  The two Messengers shook their heads grimly but did not drop their gaze; the young soldier wailed in terror and remorse, “I have been a fool, an utter fool!”

  The Creature asked, “have you come to your senses then?”

  The guard shook his head, “at last I have seen the Truth. Why could I not see it before? I have been a fool, but no longer. I have made my decision. Proceed as you must.”

  The Creature grinned vilely, “you are then willing to submit to the Ritual and abandon these foolish mortal ambitions?”

  The soldier snorted, “I have no doubt my mortal strivings will soon be over but I will not submit to you or yours. I speak of the True King when I say I have been an ignorant fool. To Him alone will I yield…”

  A broad grin escaped Bayard’s face as the soldier spoke but it turned to a look of disgust and horror as the boy did not even finish speaking before The Creature was upon him. “Heretics will not be tolerated,” said the Creature casually, as it licked the blood from its claws after making short work of the boy whose mangled remains were being fought over by a Fellhound and a Dreadlord’s loathsome mount. The survivors shuddered in disgust, but the Creature gave them little time to process this as he turned his vicious gaze again upon the two heretics. Continued he, “now what of you? Will you choose the same end?”

  “What would you have of us?” said Bayard boldly.

  “Have of you? Have of you?” snarled the Creature, “why I offer you the greatest boon a mortal man can receive! You could become truly powerful! I do not know why people are not lining up outside the fortress demanding this very thing!”

  Bayard cocked his head, “then why have you not endured such an ordeal?”

  The Creature growled, “I have endured it and was the most powerful creature known to man yet have been reduced to this wretched state for things beyond my control. It is all the fault of my brother and one I once called friend. If ever I see them again they shall be sorry!”

  Bayard and Ithril exchanged a horrified look in realizing this thing was Tyne, who apparently was blinded to their true identities, at least for the moment. Ithril gasped, “why would we want to align ourselves with such a fickle master if your fate could be our own?”

  Realizing his terrible blunder, the Creature snarled, “because this is paradise compared to what awaits you should you refuse. Why should our master reward failure? Serve well and you have nothing to fear. Fail and…” He ended in mid-sentence with menace heavy in his voice. “Enough,” growled the Creature, “you will all decide now or face a truly terrifying death of my choosing. We will not resort to the myriad tortures usually used to convince the reluctant for I sense this entire batch is corrupted and not worth salvaging. Choose!”

  The six remaining boys all exchanged horrified looks, wondering what their end would be but it seemed truly to be upon them. The words of the Messengers had done much to encourage them in the hopeless days of their journey and the words of this Creature did little to sway their newfound faith. Only Rork stood forth and said, “I am not ready to die. I will submit to whatever I must, but spare my life.”

  The Creature smiled in feigned joy, “a wise decision and you will not only save your life but to it we shall add abundantly. What of your friends?”

  Rork shook his head, “they are all heretics my lord, the two on the end the worst of all.”

  The Creature’s smile broadened, “then I shall allow you to end their heresy, for the Ritual requires the shedding of such blood as theirs. These others shall die as I choose.”

  The terrified captives drew closer together as their fate was decided but a great and terrible light suddenly drove all such thoughts out of the minds of all there present. Ithril and Bayard were the only ones not blinded to the vision as Jaden, Aboril, and the young guard swooped in on their Pegassi and bore the three captives bodily away. The former soldier winked at his comrades yet in chains the moment before his Pegassi vanished with all the others. Ithril and Bayard exchanged a joyous look, but schooled their faces to dismay as the light subsided and all could look about unhindered, only to gape in horror for three of the captives were gone.

  “What is this?” snarled the Creature, “where is my revenge?” He turned on the three remaining captives and demanded, “what has happened? Were those three mortal boys or of that forsaken sect devoted to the Master?” Rork looked flummoxed and the Messengers kept silent. The Creature roared, “to the altars lest more failure is heaped unwillingly at my door!”

  Several things too hideous to describe took up the remaining captives and bore them quickly to the back of the fortress whose back wall held an opening with no gate which looked out upon Nothing. The Messengers shuddered to sense that complete and utter emptiness, empty save for despair, terror, and grief. The vile minions lay the two Messengers upon one altar and Rork was chained to another. Bayard cried out, “do not do this! It is not yet too late!”

  A slap from the Creature sent him reeling into darkness as Ithril took up the cry, “do not forever doom yourself! That Nothingness without is all that awaits you…” He too lay stunned as the Creature reprimanded Ithril likewise.

  The Wraith that had come forth to oversee the proceedings glanced down at the unmoving victims on the altar; he examined the wretched creatures and drew back with a hiss, “this is madness. We cannot proceed. There is something dreadfully wrong with your victims.”

  Snarled the Creature, “whatever it is I do not care! If all of these fools escape our master’s clutches I am doomed. Begin!”

  The Wraith adamantly shook its head, “I will have no part in this. You doom yourself.”

  The Creature sneered, “so be it. So then shall all the glory be mine.” The Wraith shuddered and withdrew to the farthest reaches of the compound. The awful wailing and the terrible silence that followed made the horrid creature grin; he had warned the fool and he had destroyed himself. His previous failure should have earned him banishment into the abyss but their master found it much more amusing to place him in this new wretched position. Even that, now it seemed was doomed to failure. The thing smiled wickedly, where one or two failed, there was always room for advancement for those that succeeded. Those two boys were nothing but Messengers in disguise and forcing them into the Ritual could have nothing but disastrous results. The candidate and all those about him no doubt would end in the Rift and hopefully the victims would destroy themselves in process, but the wretched creatures seemed immune to such things and he knew they would be back. He had tried to warn them. Now how to use this disaster to his advantage?

  Bayard and Ithril woke on the Beach with a shudder, half submerged in the miraculous Sea which washed away their recent, quite unnerving experience. Tyne had tried to involve them in his vile Ritual and had unleashed powers and chaos he had no idea how to control. He and his victim were no doubt lost to the abyss, permanently for such a ploy. It had been far from a pleasant experience for all involved. Bayard stood, saying, “I will be quite happy never to endure that again.” They both shivered again in remembrance.

  Ithril nodded, “Tyne’s spear was pleasant by comparison. How long can such outrages go on?”
<
br />   “Not much longer,” said Jaden as his Pegassi suddenly appeared on the Beach, “while you two have been exploring the South of the world, much has happened. There has been a Revival.”

  Bayard frowned, “we were not gone that long.”

  Jaden grinned, “only fifty years or so. What is Time to us?” The pair exchanged a surprised look but quickly turned back to Jaden as he continued, “your three freed captives turned out to be quite a boon to our Master’s cause. Once free of their terror, they traveled the world telling their tale and whole countries have repented of their ignorance and evil. There is not a soul in all creation who has not heard of the Master! The Whiteguard is the strongest it has ever been, which is a very good thing since Evil is multiplying as well. The End will soon come.”

  “Actually it is here,” said Erian as he and Ithril’s mount appeared and greeted their errant masters. Once the boys were in their saddles the Pegassi reared and said, “this is no place for a man afoot.”

  Bayard frowned in incomprehension for a moment but suddenly the Mountains started to shake and the Sea to roar. Those who dwelt on the Seaward side of the Mountains soon joined the three Messengers on the Beach while the Sea split asunder and allowed all those who dwelt in the Brightlands to come forth. The Sea receded and finally vanished, the Mountains crumbled to minor hills and the Greylands lay open before them. Such a reunion has never been seen before or since, but all the Master’s servants found themselves called to that Beach wherever they had been a moment previous and the minions of Evil found themselves gathered together for a final assault on the Master’s stronghold, thinking the Mountains had fallen to some plot of the Evil One.

  There was a great light about all the Master’s servants, but then the Master Himself came forth and His radiance was greater than the combined glory of His servants. The onrushing hoards of darkness simply vanished the moment that light fell upon them. Those poor souls bound neither to the Master or His nemesis fled South in utter terror, never to be seen again. Then the Shadow himself came forth to do what his weaker vassals could not but the utter dark cannot stand before The Light. A great earthquake shook the whole world and laid it waste. The Abyss itself vanished before that light to a place none but the Master knows. When the Light abated, what wonders awaited the Master’s own cannot be known by mortal mind.

  The Road: