Rain spattered against the large tent as its door flap popped loudly in the breeze whipping it about. Torches at opposite ends of the oval table sputtered wearily, casting undulating shadows onto the canvas walls and the grim faces of the haggard men. All heads turned as slogging footsteps approached, and the tent flap was roughly thrown aside.

Larthan entered, removed his helmet and shook the water from the sagging plume decorating it. Even the darkness couldn’t hide the huge forearms and chest that wielded a battle axe as easily as most men could handle a rapier. He wiped a gnarled hand through his curly brown hair which time had streaked with gray.

"If this miserable weather doesn’t break soon, we may have to abandon the wagons," he said as he took his place at the head of the table.

"Are the roads starting to wash out?" a small balding man with curiously slanted eyes asked.

Larthan laughed. "They’ve been washed out, Cosis. They’re almost rivers. That damn clay makes a nice roadway when its dry, but now its a sucking mire that pulled off one of my boots as I walked here." A good humored murmur rose from the men around the table.

"Where’s Daxlan?" Larthan asked as he glanced around the tent.

"He hasn’t returned yet, general," one of the men said. Larthan grunted and sat back.

For several minutes a quiet settled over the table. The rain striking the tent and the torches crackling were the only sounds to be heard. Even the tent flap had joined the silence. One of the captains began drumming the table with his fingers. Another coughed and spat onto the muddy ground which was now the floor.

"Do we move in the morning?" Cosis asked at last.

Larthan stared at the little man. Cosis started to ask again when it seemed the general wasn’t going to answer. Larthan stopped him. "Yes, Cosis, we will move in the morning. The question is - where? In case you haven’t noticed while riding in your wagon locked up with whatever our precious cargo is, we have unhealthy company now. Daxlan and the rest of the Scouts are trying to determine just who and how many they are."

"What if Daxlan doesn’t make it back?" Cosis asked.

"If he doesn’t, which isn’t likely, then we will turn around and try to reach Miffil."

"But we must continue to Sirens’ Forest," Cosis said.

"If Daxlan doesn’t return, there is no way we will be able to reach the Sirens’ Forest, Cosis," Larthan said, his temper flaring slightly.

Cosis sighed loudly. "Larthan, you don’t understand. We have to ..." A slight swishing at the tent door stopped him.

"Don’t let me stop you, Cosis," the man who had slipped in said as he approached the table.

"Daxlan, it’s good to see you. We were worried. You were expected back at sundown," Larthan said.

"There were some things I had to see for myself," the Scout Captain said.

"And?" Larthan asked.

"And it’s not good," Daxlan said as he sat quietly at the table. "We have assume we’re being harassed by several Pychnie patrols. That’s true as far as it goes. What we didn’t know is there’s an entire Pychnie battalion backed by at least the Mandogo companies encircling us right now." Several gasps of disbelief escaped from the surprised listeners.

"Can we make a run for Miffil?" Larthan asked.

"I doubt we could make it that far," Daxlan said. "I have Evals trying to find a weak point in the circle. He is concentrating on an area that will let us reach the Quartz River Citadel. If we reach it, we may be able to hold out until the Pychnies tire of us and move on to easier prey."

"NO!" Cosis shouted. "We can’t do that. We have to get to Sirens’ Forest. We must get there."

Daxlan stared hard at Cosis. "There is no way we can get through to Sirens’ Forest. If we break through, we have to get to a fortified position or get overrun when the enemy regroups. We can try to reach Sirens’ Forest later. Right now we have to save our skins."

"We have to get to Sirens’ Forest as soon as possible," Cosis persisted.

"Haven’t you been listening?!" Larthan roared. "We are on the brink of being massacred. We will never get to your precious forest if we are all dead."

"But we have to," Cosis said weakly.

Larthan snorted in disgust. The little man was a single-minded idiot.

"Why must we reach Sirens’ Forest?" Daxlan asked gently.

Cosis looked around him. "I am not at liberty to say," he said nervously in a hushed voice.

"Clear the tent!" Larthan ordered. "Daxlan, you and Cosis stay." His officers slowly began filing out. "Move!" Larthan bellowed, his temper all but out of control. The men scrambled out.

When the three were alone, Larthan glared at Cosis. "Now tell us what in Vulcan’s name is going on here," he demanded.

Cosis wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead. He started to speak, but only an inaudible whisper came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I have been instructed not to say anything under any circumstances, but perhaps if you understand the importance of what is happening you’ll..." He waved away the thought with a flick of his hand. "I am sorry, but I can’t tell you. What you must know is if we don’t get to Sirens’ Forest, those Pychnies and Mandogos out there will soon be everywhere in our lands."

Larthan bit his lip in anger. He knew Cosis was odd, but all High Priests were. Lythael’s was just a bit odder than most. He had few dealings with priests and their occult ways, but Cosis seemed too secretive.

"My men aren’t religious zealots who can be frightened into giving their lives for some mumbo jumbo from any priest, even the High Priest of Lythael," Larthan said. " This little trip was fine when I couldn’t foresee any real risk to my men. Escorting priests would be a rest from the constant vigil of patrolling the border, or so I thought.

"I was mistaken to think this would be a simple task. I should have known the King wouldn’t recall the Gray Riders for something simple. I admit my mistake, but I tell you this, Cosis, I won’t compound it by getting all of my company killed just because you say your task is important. I have seen priests who thought gathering a certain herb was worth risking lives for."

Daxlan nodded in agreement. "He’s right, Cosis. You priests don’t rate highly when it comes to common sense. My men have seen the enemy. They won’t take kindly to being told we are going against such a superior force just because the priest we are escorting says we must."

Cosis wrung his hands together then ran them through his few wisps of hair nervously. "Very well. If I can’t get you to go any farther without telling the mission, then I will. Larthan, you must agree to hear me out."

Larthan frowned but grunted his agreement. Cosis cleared his throat. "As you know, before the Great Fire Wars, man was the only intelligent race on earth. Elves had been here, but they departed when the gods removed the magic from the world because they are creatures of magic.

"Bagorda, the Dark God, tempted man away from all of the gods except himself. He also led man down the path to the Great Fire Wars. The Wars destroyed everything on earth. The destruction allowed the other gods to return. They healed the wounds of the world and imprisoned Bagorda."
Larthan said peevishly, "We know our history, Cosis. What does this have to do with us? You’re talking about things that happened thousands of years ago."

Cosis held up his hand. "Patience, please. You must understand everything or you will understand nothing.

"After the world was again whole, the gods placed the elves and man and many other races on it again. Two of the others are the Pychnies and the Mandogos."

"A mistake, no doubt," Larthan growled.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. We are certainly not in a position to judge the gods. Anyway, these two races have no memory of the Great Fire Wars or the Day of Unmagic; they are too young. They have easily been duped by Bagorda with his promise of physical immortality. We speak of spiritual immortality to them and have no real proof. Bagorda promises them physical immortality and places before them the proof, a being who seems as old as the world and claims to have come from Bagorda’s paradise to help prepare them for it.

"This being is named Erridaba, and he is the instigator of all our troubles."

"Then why don’t we just sneak into his house and kill him?" Daxlan asked.

Cosis laughed. "If only it was so easy. Erridaba is no mere mortal. I don’t really know what kind of creature he is. Some say he is a renegade elf, others say he is or was a man. For all I know, he is the sole creation of Bagorda.

"What I do know is unless he is destroyed, the West, our land, will be destroyed. Men, elves, and all other sentient races will either be destroyed or subjugated to the worst forms of slavery. Even though the Pychnies and Mandogos now outnumber us threefold, I think we could withstand a simple invasion. However, Erridaba has powers we can never hope to match.

"Our only chance for survival is to ally ourselves with the elves. That is what this mission is for." Larthan’s eyes darkened. "We have been shielding the elves from the Pychnie encroachment, so they aren’t truly aware of the danger. There are those among them of substantial rank who do see the danger, though. They have won the ear of the elven Council of Elders but before they make any final decision, we must send them a token of good will.

"They have insisted that we return to them what we won in the Elven 300 years ago."

"you don’t mean Kilaal’s Sword?!" Larthan said horrified. Cosis nodded. "No! You can’t do that! They Gray Riders were killed to the man winning the Sword from that mad elf. It will be a dark day for mankind should the elves ever get it back. Our possession of it is the only thing that prevents them from warring against us."

"So most believe; however, it isn’t true. The elves no longer fear we will once again push them from their land as we were doing before the Day of Unmagic. They no longer live for centuries and have few children. Like us, they are lucky to live a single century, so they breed just as often as we, so they are in no jeopardy of our numbers overrunning them.

"Kilaal lived for the past. He was able to instigate the war with his rhetoric and the Sword. It was given to him by Lythael. Most thought that meant he was to be the bearer of the Sword when it was used on its holy mission. Only a few correctly guessed it meant someone from his lineage would wield the Sword for its true purpose.

"The few couldn’t sway the many especially with Kilaal brandishing his Sword, so we had the Elven Wars. Men lost those wars until, as you said, Larthan, the Gray Riders took the Sword from Kilaal. It was your great-great-great grandfather who pried Kilaal’s dead fingers from the Sword. It was he who even as the touch of the Sword killed him dropped it into the gold lined chest where its magic couldn’t reach another human victim.

"We have held the Sword in Lythael’s Temple since that time, its magic trapped within the chest. What has been forgotten is the Sword was a gift from the gods to the elves. All the gods’ gifts have a purpose. The Sword’s purpose wasn’t to conquer us. It killed men, true, but that’s because men aren’t creatures of magic so its magic killed them.

"What the Sword’s ultimate purpose is, I don’t know. I do know that it can best serve us by being returned to the elves now, for without their help we are doomed."

"You speak of doom too easily," Larthan said angrily.

Cosis laughed bitterly. "Do I? Haven’t you and Daxlan been talking of massacres and annihilation? You, the commander of the Gray Riders, and Daxlan, the captain of the Scouts. Surely if I’m not safe with you, then I’m not safe anywhere in the West.

"Think for a moment. How could a whole battalion of Pychnies and companies of Mandogos get this far into the West without you knowing about it. Are your men slipping that badly, Daxlan?"

Daxlan flushed. "No," he said unconvincingly.

"I don’t think so, either, but here we are surrounded by Pychnies and Mandogos. It isn’t because your men are slipping, it’s because they can’t see what moments before wasn’t there. And that is how magic works. Erridaba moved most of those men from somewhere in their lands to here instantly."

"If he can do that, why didn’t he just move them right into the middle of us and take us completely by surprise?" Daxlan asked.

Cosis shook his head. "I don’t know. Perhaps the magic befuddles his men somehow."

"He’s right, Captain Daxlan," a new voice said. Larthan jumped at the sound, drawing his dagger as he rose.

"Larthan, put away your knife. This is Evals, my second in command," Daxlan said. He turned back to the tall man standing in the shadow of the doorway. "Evals, this is a private meeting. Please wait in my tent to give your report."

"I don’t think there is time, sir."

"What do you mean?"

Evals approached the table noiselessly. He placed a goblet in the center of the table. "This is us," he said. "As you know, we are completely surrounded. A large force of Pychnies is here." He placed another goblet. He placed a wine bottle directly behind the second goblet. "That is Quartz River Citadel. If we wait any longer, it will be cut off from us, but if we ride directly through the Pychnies right now, I think we will get through them with very few losses.

"I went into their camp and found most suffering from the worst hangovers of their lives. Many are totally helpless. They would be nearly defenseless if we struck them quickly and soon." He stepped back from the table.

Larthan studied the makeshift map and laughed. "Maybe we should wipe them out and then be on our way."

"No," Daxlan replied. "Even if we killed all of that company, the others surrounding us would still have us outnumbered. We must use this opportunity to get through their lines and to the Citadel."

"And the Sword?" Cosis asked.

"Cosis, we will be dead if we try to get the Sword to Sirens’ Forest," Larthan fumed. The thought of giving Kilaal’s Sword back to the elves sickened him.

"A company this large can’t sneak across the countryside," Daxlan said.

Cosis glared at Daxlan, then his eyes shifted to Evals. The tall Scout stood back impassively as the three haggled, but his eyes flicked from one man to the other studying the situation intently. "Perhaps a company can’t sneak around the countryside, but what about a Scout and an old man?" Cosis demanded. He nodded towards Evals to drive his idea home.

Daxlan sighed. The idea had occurred to him, but he hadn’t mentioned it because the only logical choice was Evals whom he loved like a son. "That might be possible," he conceded.

"Let’s not waste any time, then," Cosis said triumphantly. "I have to get ready to travel. Daxlan, I will let you choose which Scout has the best chance of getting me to Sirens’ Forest." He saw Daxlan’s eyes gloomily look towards Evals.

"Your Scout will be at your tent in half an hour," Daxlan said. Cosis nodded as he hurried out of the tent. The three remaining could hear his steps splashing through the watery mud.

"It will be best if you leave the camp as it is and ride as hard as possible through the Pychnie camp," Evals said. "It’s only a day’s ride to the Citadel.

"The priest and I will part from you just after we break through the encampment. In the commotion we should be able to slip away easily, and our trail will be obliterated before anyone suspects anything."

"We’ll leave within the hour so I had better begin slamming a few heads together to get the men moving," Larthan said gruffly and strode from the tent into the gloomy night.

"Evals, I wish I knew what to say to prepare you for what’s ahead, but I don’t know what’s going on," Daxlan said as he stared into the dying glow of one of the torches. He hugged the younger man. "I have the feeling our future hinges on whether or not you succeed."

Evals laughed. "You have always told me no one man or one event determines the future’s outcome."

"This may be the one time I am wrong," Daxlan said wryly, his humor returning. "I’m just glad I trained the man who must bear the burden; otherwise, I wouldn’t be sure of the outcome."

"You also told me an event’s outcome is never certain until it is over."

Daxlan cuffed Evals alongside his head. "I also told you to respect your elders. Now get out of here before I change my mind and send someone with more experience." They spent another ten minutes in the tent with Evals telling Daxlan what he had the Scouts doing.

When they left, Evals made his way through the rousing camp to the saddlery tent. Around him men grunted sleepily as officers woke them. The muffled rattle of armor being donned mixed with the rain hitting tents. At the tent Evals got a pack frame, saddle, and two bridles.

Even carrying his awkward load, Evals easily slipped by the young Scout guarding the picketed animals. The Scout was too preoccupied trying to see what was happening in the camp.

Evals’s horse, a large roan started to nicker when he smelled his master, but Evals silenced him with a gentle hand to his nose. He double checked the animal’s bridle and tightened the saddle’s cinch then went to find his pack horse.

The bay, a patient mountain horse Evals had acquired during a scouting trip to the East nudged him as he carefully put the pack frame on the horse. The bay would carry a load heavier than a man, but she refused to allow anyone to ride her, the result of the savage scars on her shoulders and flanks. She wasn’t fast, but she could walk or trot even the roan into the ground.

Evals wiped the rain from his brow as he searched through the picketed horses for the priest’s mount. He had no idea what kind of horseman Cosis was, but he didn’t think the little man would be able to ride too well so he settled on a chestnut that had more stamina than most and a gentle disposition and gait.

After saddling it, he slipped up beside Davlin who was craning his neck to catch some hint as to what the commotion in the camp was all about. "You shouldn’t let your attention become too focused on any one thing," Evals said casually.

Davlin jumped at Evals’s voice. He turned to his superior wide eyed. "Yes...yes, sir," he responded meekly.

Evals patted him on the shoulder. "I need three horses for an extended trip," he said.

"Let me help you get them," Davlin said quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"That’s all right, I already have them," Evals replied as he led the horses past the younger Scout. "Remember what I said. Your life may depend on it next time as well as the lives of all the others."

"Yes, sir," Davlin said humiliated. He knew the incident would get no further. Sergeant Evals would tell no one, but he would remember and check on him again. They both knew a Scout, even a young one, should never let such a thing happen. And it won’t, Davlin thought as the outlines of the three horses disappeared into the gloom.

Evals stopped long enough at the Scouts’ tent to gather his bedroll, his sword, and his bow. He slipped on his wool lined jacket. The late spring weather wasn’t really cold enough for it, but he could feel a chill coming and knew better than to let it set in. A man couldn’t expect to slip by the enemy unheard if his teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

At the mess wagon, the cook loaded him down with food. "No use wastin’ more ‘an we ‘ave to," he said. Before Evals could answer he tossed him a very light skin bag said, "Good tinder is ‘ard to come by. No use lettin’ the ‘eathens ‘ave it," and turned back into his wagon clanging around trying to decide which of his pots were indispensable.

Evals led the horses to the blue wagon of the high priest of Lythael. "Priest," he called. Shortly Cosis stuck his head out. When he saw it was Evals, he scrambled out of the wagon dragging a long, narrow chest with him.

"This must go with us. It is more important than either of us," Cosis said as he handed it to Evals and scrambled back into the wagon. Evals was amazed at its weight. He had to spend several minutes readjusting the bay’s load to accommodate the leaden chest. Cosis clambered out of the wagon just as he was finishing.

Cosis deftly tied on his bedroll, looped the string of the sack onto the saddle horn, and jumped into the saddle. "I used to love riding before the Lady called me into her service," he said smiling.

Evals returned his smile. The old man seemed excited about the prospect of spending weeks in the saddle exposed to the unrestrained elements. Evals doubted the enthusiasm would last more than a day or two at the most.

Cosis tried the stirrups, grimaced slightly, jumped off the horse and adjusted them. "Much better," he said.

"Shall we go?" Evals asked deferentially.

"Whatever you think. I am here only to watch after the chest and to speak with the elves. Getting us there is your job," Cosis said.

"Then let’s find Larthan. He will be able to tell us when we leave," Evals said. He led them towards a point in the darkness where the sounds of men and horses were more concentrated.

Soon they found the company forming into a battle line. At its forefront was Larthan. The plume on his helmet sagged forlornly in the unrelenting drizzle, but he moved along the line of horsemen quietly giving commands ignoring the chilling rain. He saw the two riders approaching him and wheeled his mount to meet them.

"You’re ready, then?" His question was more of a statement than query. He studied the load on the pack horse and sighed. "I hope you know what you are doing, Cosis," he said bitterly.

"I do," Cosis answered.

"Very well. You two get to the rear of the line. We will be moving in five minutes. As soon as we break through, you are on your own." He paused and added, "You can continue on with us to Quartz River Citadel if you change your mind."

"We won’t," Cosis said. Larthan grunted and continued down the line speaking encouragingly to his men. Evals led the pack horse to the rear, and Cosis followed close behind.

They waited the last few minutes in silence as did the soldiers. The only sounds were an occasional visor clinking into place, the patter of rain on armor, the creak of leather, and the snorts of the nervous war-horses. Evals pulled his sword and checked the halter hope of the mare for a third time to ensure it as securely fastened.

A single trumpet note started the line forward at a slow walk. "Stay close," Evals whispered over his shoulder as he nudged the roan into motion. Evals looked overhead. Through the tree tops, he could see the sky just beginning to lighten. In the forest it was still black as pitch.

The Scouts would be near the enemy camp soaking trees with oil to light when the first line of lancers got within ear shot. The trees bursting into flame would be the signal to charge. Also, the burning trees would add to the surprise of the enemy, and hopefully give enough light to allow the galloping riders to miss at least the largest trees. Tree limbs were as big a threat as the enemy when attempting a mounted attack at night.

The forest in front of them suddenly flared into bright orange flames. The trumpet pealed through the air, and the Gray Riders howled as they spurred their mounts into a gallop. The excited roan surged forward with the rest dragging the smaller bay with it.

Hooves pounded of globs of mud and turf. Evals thundered past the burning trees. Small branches ripped at his face. He rode low to present as small a target as possible. Confused shouts mixed with the rabid howling of the Gray Riders, and soon screams of terror and pain overcame all of the other noises as the first wave of lancers charged through the surprised Pychnie camp. The roan leapt suddenly, and Evals barely glimpsed the bloody form of a Pychnie lying face down in the crimson mud.

The battle was over before it had started. Evals plunged by more burning trees marking the end of the Pychnie camp. He followed the soldiers for another ten minutes as they galloped headlong through the unseen forest. Several times Evals heard the sickening crunch of wood hitting armor. He could only hope the riders would be able to regain their mounts and continue on. Everyone knew they had to put as much distance as possible between the company and the Pychnies even if it meant sacrificing a few men.

Evals slowed his horse and listened with a sinking heart as the sounds of the Gray Rider dwindled in the distance. "How are you?" he asked Cosis.

The little man blinked the tears out of his eyes and pinched his nose. "Ah’ll be ohkay whhen mahy nohse stops bhleedin’," he said.

Evals smiled. They were lucky to get through with only a bloody nose. He studied the sky again. It was getting light quickly now. Morning would soon be with them. He started northwest. They would ride in that direction to where the Miff River flowed into the Quartz River while the Gray Riders continued on to the Quartz River Citadel to the northeast.

He guided the roan through the thickly growing forest at a fast walk. The trees that earlier seemed to be apparitions appearing from nowhere were now black shadows against the dark gray of the forest. Evals rode with his ears straining. He wasn’t worried about pursuit, but he knew the woods were crawling with enemy scouts. The Pychnies blundered about in the forest since they were used to the parched lands of their home where a full sized tree was practically unknown. However, the Mandogos could slip through the forest as quietly as a snake, and they were much more deadly.

By midmorning the drizzling rain had played itself out, but the sky remained a uniform gray with darker patches that threatened to wet them again. Cosis bobbed dangerously in the saddle. He was not used to going without sleep or the excitement they had just been through. The only things keeping him awake were the throbbing of his nose and the pain in his rump from riding so long.

Evals caught a glimpse of something moving around a small patch of scrub spruce bordering both slides of a muskeg swamp they were heading for. He heard the slight metallic scrape as a sword was eased from its scabbard. If they were caught in the swamp, the horses would be of no advantage because the moss tussocks would cause them to flounder.

He stopped and turned to Cosis. "How’s your nose?" he asked nonchalantly while he strained to catch any hint of movement that might tell him how many were waiting for them. He was sure they were Mandogos. Pychnies would have attacked as soon as they saw the two riders.

"It’s a throbbing ache I would as soon not have," Cosis said dejectedly. "It is keep me awake, though." He looked around. This part of the forest seemed to him just like all the rest they had traveled through. The scraggly spruce grew tightly together. The bottom limbs were dead and gray with equally gray moss hanging from them. The tops had scrawny, green limbs that highlighted the trees’ starkness rather than giving them any fullness.

"Are we stopping for a rest?" he asked hopefully.

Evals shook his head no. He had seen no other movement and heard nothing more. The Mandogo or Mandogos weren’t giving away anything. He couldn’t take the chance on running because either the Scouts would hound their trail, or worse, they would report that two riders went by. That would be awfully suspicious and probably mean they would soon have a squad after them.

He slid off his horse and said, "I have to relieve myself. I’ll be back in a minute." He slipped through the trees and was soon out of sight. Every nerve tingled as he carefully worked his way through the trees towards the swamp. He heard a branch swish as something released it too quickly. He froze and listened. Soon he heard the light footsteps of someone approaching.

The Mandogo was only ten feet away when Evals saw him. Evals tensed and sprang. A twig snapped under his foot, but the Mandogo could only swirl and gasp in amazement as Evals thrust his sword through the nearly seven foot tall, black man’s throat. The Mandogo gurgled and fell, blood pouring from the gaping wound that had been his throat.

Evals had almost worked his way back to Cosis when he heard the priest cry out. He dashed back towards the horses unconsciously stepping over dead branches and slipping by tree limbs. When he reached the clearing, he saw Cosis sprawled on the ground. A Mandogo was trying to calm the bay enough to unhitch the pack frame, but the bay fought fiercely against the newcomer.

The Mandogo saw Evals as he broke into the clearing. He whipped out his scimitar and faced the Scout. He whistle loudly, then grinned savagely when only silence replied.

"So Chuuka has been careless once too often, eh, man?" the Mandogo growled with his deep guttural accent.

Evals said nothing but closed slightly. Mandogos were unbelievably quick for their size. With the reach advantage they had, fighting one alone was not to Evals’s liking. He preferred plucking his arrows out of their chests or backs. The Mandogo lunged suddenly slashing with his sword. Evals deflected the blow and barely sidestepped the kick to his groin.

The Mandogo retreated momentarily, surprise coloring his dark face. He hadn’t expected his kick to miss. Evals attacked, trying to forget only a Mandogo Jinku was trained to fight with his feet as well as his hands. The battle raged furiously. The Mandogo withstood Evals’s initial flurry and slowly took the offensive. Evals retreated parrying the sword blows while trying to keep the kicks from connecting solidly.

The Mandogo kicked, thrust, whirled, and kicked again. The blow caught Evals on the side of the head. He fell and instinctively rolled, the Mandogo’s blade cutting deeply into the ground where he’d been. Evals scrambled to his feet and barely caught the Mandogo’s next blow. Sensing victory, the Mandogo pressed harder.

Evals’s arms screamed for relief. He turned a slash, but the scimitar’s flat side smashed into him. Evals knew his huge opponent was going to overpower him very soon if he didn’t do something drastic, so he ran.

He sprinted for the trees. The Mandogo, his bloodlust racing at a peak, charged after the cowardly man howling insanely. Evals crashed through the undergrowth. Behind him he heard the Mandogo following cursing wildly. Evals glanced back, couldn’t see his pursuer but heard him coming hard. He stopped behind a tree and sucked air as quietly as his burning lungs would allow.

The Mandogo blundered blindly by cursing his prey. "...you...stinking yellow skinned...man. Come fight me..." When the Jinku stopped Evals raced back towards the horses. He caught a glimpse of the Mandogo bent over listening and trying to get his breath.

The maddened Jinku saw him and roaring more profanities continued the chase. Evals broke into the clearing and barely noticed Cosis struggling to sit up. He ran to the roan, untied his bow, and in one swift movement strung it. He nocked an arrow as the Mandogo slapped aside the last lime and stumbled into the clearing.

When he saw Evals, he bellowed triumphantly and charged forward. He took three steps, stopped, and stared in disbelief at the feathered shaft protruding from his chest. He raised his scimitar, took another step, and collapsed.

Evals released the tension on this drawn bow and sagged to the ground. He stared numbly at the dead Jinku. Even they couldn’t go far with their hearts sliced open. "Meeting one Jinku in a lifetime is meeting one too many," he said to no one as he stood slowly, grimacing against the ache of his entire body.

Cosis grunted painfully. Evals looked at the priest and saw a large egg shaped lump on Cosis’s head just above his left ear. The priest gingerly touched the lump and winced. "Did you kill all of them?" he asked as he struggled to his feet. He weaved dangerously as the world blurred around him. He grabbed his saddle horn just in time to keep from falling. The chestnut sniffed him curiously as he leaned against it then returned to cropping the sparse grass competing with the moss for room in the clearing.

"There were only two, and yes, I killed them," Evals answered as he limped to the dead Mandogo and pulled out his arrow. He inspected it thoroughly as he cleaned it with a handful of moss. Satisfied, he returned it to his quiver, unstrung his bow and retied it to his saddle.

He patted the roan then offer his hand to the bay. She snorted and backed away. "It’s okay, girl, I just want to thank you for protecting our pack," Evals said soothingly as he slowly walked towards the skittish horse. She snorted again but didn’t back away. He offered her his hand again. She sniffed it and relaxed. He stroked her muzzle and then her neck. He worked his way back to the pack.

He tightened the cinch and said, "We need to put this as far behind us as possible." He climbed onto the roan. Cosis mounted, too, but began weaving. "Can you ride?" Evals asked.

"If I have to," Cosis answered shakily.

"You do," Evals said and started them towards the Quartz River ford. He kept them in the saddle for the rest of the day.

Cosis gave up tying to guide his horse after the first hour. He concentrated on staying in the saddle clinging tenaciously to the saddle horn. The sun had dipped below the trees when they finally heard the deep rumble of the swift flowing Quartz River. Evals turned and paralleled the river.

"Why don’t we go to the river?" Cosis asked irritably. What he really wanted to know was why they didn’t stop. Every muscle in his body ached, and his head pounded savagely with every step his horse took.

"We don’t want to be seen," Evals answered. A mist soon began to fall, and the world quieted eerily. Even the rumbling of the river was muted. Cosis shuddered as darkness once again enveloped them. Again the trees were invisible phantoms springing out of nowhere to slap at him, and still Evals kept them moving.

Evals bolted from his saddle and darted back to Cosis when he heard a thump and a muffled cry of pain. He could barely make out the priest struggling to a sitting position in the inky darkness.

"Are you all right?" he whispered as he listened intently hearing only the trees dripping, the priest’s ragged breathing, and the river.

"Yes," Cosis muttered wearily. "I fell asleep."

"Evals breathed easier. Fighting in this gloom would be like fighting blindfolded. "Okay. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours before we get to the ford. Once we cross, we’ll camp until morning."

Cosis grunted and climbed wearily back onto his horse. He prayed earnestly to Lythael not to let him die when his life’s work was so near completion. He stared into the gloom in front of him and wondered what Evals’ reaction would be if he learned the truth. He had known the man for less than a day, but he already knew the Scout was a man to be reckoned with. Better he should never know.

An hour later Cosis noticed an imperceptible change. The night still held them in its black grasp. The chill mist still floated down clinging to everything until it formed icy droplets that slid into the waning warmth of his clothing, but the river sounded as though it was surrounding them, and it grew steadily louder.

They stepped out of the thickly growing trees, and the world suddenly seemed to be flowing, swirling, and leaping up in mighty sprays. "You say this is a ford?" Cosis asked incredulously, yelling his question at the shadowy figure ahead of him outlined by the tumultuous river.

Evals laughed. "No, this is a set of rapids. We will walk in the edge of the river from here, though, to hide our tracks." He led his horse to the water and dismounted. Stepping carefully into the water he felt the rushing current tug forcefully at his foot. He stepped farther into the current until it was swirling up nearly to his knees. He then started downstream with the roan and bay following.

Cosis dismounted and stepped into the river. The icy water forced a startled yelp from him, and he quickly scampered out. How could Evals stand it? He clambered back onto the chestnut and guided it into the river. It dutifully plodded after the dim outlines of the others.

Evals picked his way along the edge as the icy waters numbed his feet. He gasped inaudibly when he stepped into a depression and the water suddenly reached his groin. After twenty minutes, they were by the rapids, and the river widened. Evals inched away from the bank gritting his teeth as the water depth worked up until it was to his waist. He waded farther on until the depth lessened. With shaking hands he brought the roan forward and pulled himself into the saddle.

They were at the ford now and so long as he kept them going across and slightly downstream, they would have no problems. One misstep and they would be swimming in the icy waters and heading quickly for another set of even worse rapids. The roan needed little urging to start heading for the far shore. It sensed only there would it be able to get out of the freezing water.

"Get off and walk your horse," Evals ordered when they were on the north bank. Cosis complied and soon they were stumbling through more thickly treed forest.

Cosis’s leg knotted up on him. "Evals, I have to rest," he said through clenched teeth. "I can’t go on." Evals suddenly appeared next to him and studied the older man.

"Rub down your horse’s legs," Evals said.

"Are we stopping, then?" Cosis asked pleadingly.

"We had better or we’ll both be dead from exhaustion," Evals laughed.

"You’re tired, too?"

"Extremely. Now rub your horse down." Cosis did as he was ordered. He felt better knowing this nonstop traveling was getting to Evals, too.

Evals watched the priest rub down his animal as he rubbed down the roan and the bay. The old man had been through hell in the last two days and was still on his feet. Many supposedly stronger men wouldn’t be. The horses were in need of rest, too. The river had sapped them nearly completely. The roan was even quivering.

"Get your blanket and curl up under one of the drier spruce trees. I’ll get you up when it’s time to leave," Evals said. Cosis untied his bedroll, crawled under a thick spruce and found that it was, in fact, fairly dry. He had no sooner covered himself with his blanket than he was asleep.

Evals listened to his charge snoring softly. They could stay here until noon and still get to the trappers’ village by nightfall. There they could get a good meal and a good night’s sleep. He untied his bedroll and found a dry spruce twenty paces up their trail.

A mosquito buzzed Evals’s ear, and he snatched it from the air even as sleep dashed away. A quick glance from under his sheltering tree reoriented him. He crawled from beneath it and wiped the remains of the tiny carnivore on his pants as he stretched out the kinks from his five hour sleep. He listened to the forest’s sounds for several minutes to assure himself nothing was amiss. The only sounds he heard were those of the rapacious insects hunting victims and small animals scurrying about out of sight. Every now and then a bird called or a squirrel chattered peevishly. The horses were relaxed.

A glint caught Evals’s eye. The shining brass lock of the slim trunk Cosis valued so highly seemed to be winking invitingly at him. Curious, he walked to it and tried to guess what it might contain. The trunk’s odd shape perplexed him. It certainly couldn’t contain much gold. It just wasn’t the right shape. It couldn’t be a document because it weighed too much.

Of course! Cosis was a priest, so it had to be some sort of religious object. But what? Evals toyed with the lock. It wasn’t very complex, and he had been taught early to pick almost any. Nobles weren’t above using a Scout for their own ends and then locking up or even killing the unlucky fellow to keep his mouth shut. He looked towards Cosis. He was slack and his jaw had fallen open.

Evals pulled a thin steel rod from his boot. It not only made a good pick, but it made a passable knife in an emergency. He winced at the metallic scrape it made as he slid it into the keyhole. Working it delicately, the lock clicked and fell open.

Evals smiled. He slipped the lock out of the staple and started to lift the hasp. Cosis snorted. Evals froze. Only once had he ever been caught in the act of sneaking a peek at something, and that had been by Daxlan when he had only been with his foster father three months. The spanking he received hadn’t broken his curiosity, but it had made him much more careful.

Cosis squirmed under the tree. Evals cursed himself quietly. He should have waited. The insects were thick now and probably pestering the priest who was unused to them. Cosis slapped at something on his face and half raised himself. Go back to sleep, Evals thought furiously as though his mental projection could affect the old man. Cosis pulled his blanket around his head and lay back down.

Evals breathed easier when he heard Cosis snoring again. He returned his attention to the chest. He slowly lifted the hasp and pulled the lid open. He gaped at the solid gold lining, but more beautiful even than it was the magnificent sword laying inside.

Without thinking, he reached in and grasped it by the intricately carved hilt and lifted it from its enclosure. He admired the broadsword and was amazed at its lightness. When he tested the edge with his thumb, the sword instantly cut him. He gasped as a surge of energy shot through him as the sword absorbed his blood and suffused the sword with a rich crimson glow.

"What are you doing?!" Cosis demanded.

Evals looked up from the sword and blushed deeply. Caught! He couldn’t believe it. He had never become so absorbed in something that he allowed his guard to drop. Shame choked his throat. "I...I, uh, was admiring your sword," he said meekly and handed the weapon to Cosis.

The priest took it and carefully placed it back in its chest. He looked curiously at Evals. The Scout was obviously embarrassed, but he didn’t appear to be weakening at all. The Sword’s touch should have killed him. Only elves could handle the sword.

"Are you feeling all right?" Cosis asked.

Evals laughed. "Other than being thoroughly embarrassed, I feel fine. Why?"

Cosis shrugged. "I was just wondering."

"Well, since you’re awake, let’s get moving. I want to make the trappers’ village before nightfall. They should be able to tell us something about the way before us. They trap nearly as far north as Crystal Lake."