Chapter one
		Word spread like wild fire, Emporer Nebonex the
 IIX has arrived in Athex.  A month earlier King Willium had received
 a message from the Minotaur Emporer declaring that he would be
 paying a state visit to Arthian, Colnic, and Kinian.  The three kingdoms 
had been quite surprised by the message, but quickly hastened to make
 their cities look presentable to the Minotaur Emporer.
	King Willium had summoned his highest advisor, Kolad, and 
gave the instructions to hire the best bards, musicians, more servants,
 and craftsmen.  King Willium thought it extremely important that the 
entire city was presentable for the Emporer (with the exception of the
 East Gate district which was slums), despite how much it cost the treasury.
	Metal smiths, armourers and swordsmiths were immediately 
employed to manufacture ornamental armour for several legions of
 knights.  This was the largest toll on the treasury, but King Willium 
insisted upon it. He also insisted on platinum armour which made it
 cost it even more since platinum was the most valued metal.
	Now as Willium looked proudly at the rows of knights 
lining the parapets of the city, all shining of silver and gold trimming. 
 The brilliance cast off them seemed to dare the sun to try and outshine 
them.  King Willium and his royal guards however wore complete 
platinum armour, no one outshone them, except one.  The exception 
was Lord Redhawk, a Kinian Knight who had taken residence in 
Athex with his friend, the famous royal assassin Wynic Doxon.
	The King could not keep his mind off Redhawk's armour, it 
wasn't ornamental, but to Willium's eyes it still seemed to shine 
brighter than even his own.
	"Where's his friend?" thought Willium.
	Wynic Doxon was a strange person, despite the common 
myth about assassins, Wynic was the opposite.  Assassins, according 
to myth were supposed to be cowards, not that skilled in fighting, and 
of course evil and untrustworthy.  Wynic was so skilled in battle that it
 had been rumoured no one could beat him in hand to hand combat.  
He was courageous and daring, that much was certain considering the
 bard stories about him.  He seemed to be the perfect hero, (little boys
 dreamt of meeting him), however it was also rumoured that he had 
violent outbursts when someone mentions his father.
	Scratching his chin, Willium wondered how a rumour like that 
started about a famous hero, unless it was true.
	Trumpets blared, signaling the opening of the city gates, and 
the knights raised their arms in salute.  Willium winced at the harsh 
sound of the trumpets, but quickly regained his posture. 
	The Emporer's carriage drawn by sixteen magnificient white 
horses rumbled closer to the huge gates. Minotaurs notoriously 
distrusted horses, but the Emporer had apparently brushed away 
this prejudice in order to look more regal to the human nobles.
	From every tower, rampant and parapet a cheer from the 
nobles, and courtiers, as they waved, and tried to impress the 
Emporer.  There was a commotion on one of the lower parapets as 
Wynic Doxon pushed forward to stand beside Redhawk.
	Willium couldn't help but grin at the fact that Wynic had recently 
been in a fight.  His silk shirt was torn, and he had a black left eye.


		"Where have you been Wynic?" whispered Redhawk, 
keeping his eyes on the Emperor's carriage which had closed the gap 
between it and the gate to a hundred yards.
	"I had the misfortune of running into a very beautiful female 
archeress," answered Wynic. "I accidentally startled her, and she was
 quick to retaliate.  She realized I had been just helping her, so she 
asked me to meet her at the Drunken Dragon Tavern at the second 
dog."
	Redhawk shook his head and glanced at Wynic.  Wynic was 
just over six feet tall, broad shouldered and stealthily built.  He had 
strong cheekbones, an overly large nose, and dark brown eyes.  He 
had short red hair which he usually kept combed back, but was 
now slightly disheveled.
	The two stopped talking, and watched the progression of the
 Emperor's entourage.  He  had come  with an escort of ten thousand
 fully armed minotaurs, they marched in five columns of two thousand
 each.  Redhawk marveled at the potential strength of ten thousand 
minotaurs in their prime, such a small army could attack and ravage 
a small castle in a single day.  And this was but a small sample of  the
 entire Minotaur Army.
	The Emperor's escort would camp outside the city tonight, 
since all the inns and taverns were full due to the festivities.  Normally
 an army would stay in the soldier's barracks but they had been drafted
 into inns because of the shortage of  them.
	"Let's go down to the street, and get a good seat for the parade,"
 suggested Wynic.  He gestured towards the crowd.
	Redhawk glanced back at the carriage rumbling between the 
gates, and nodded to his dubious friend.
	The two warriors pushed their way through the crowd 
towards the stairs.  They climbed down the first flight of stairs, and
 Redhawk started down the second flight of stairs.
	Wynic leapt from the stairs landing, and landed lightly on all 
fours on the roof of a nearby building.  "Come on.  What are you 
waiting for?" he called.
	Redhawk took a step back from the landing and leapt. He
 landed somewhat off balance, waving his arms until he managed to
 stay up right.
	Wynic grinned and shook his head.
	The two made it  from roof to roof to South Street, the street
 where the Emporer would pass through with his carriage and the 
parade would go by in a few minutes.
	The streets had already started to crowd with people looking 
for places to watch the parade.
  	Sitting with their legs dangling over the edge of the roof, the 
two warriors watched the Emperor's progress through the streets.  The
 usual bands and circus entertainers were around a corner near the
 gates waiting for the Emporer and his body guards to pass by. 
	Banners and streamers had been tied from building to building 
across the street, Redhawk noted and looked down.  Teeth chattering,
 he slowly crawled back from the edge.
	Wynic looked down and back at  Redhawk.  "Don't tell me 
you're afraid of a thirtyfive-forty foot drop?"
	"Laugh if you will, but I once saw a man fall off the roof of
 a tower and smash his head on a rock.  Let's just say I don't want
 to look like something more resembling a rotten apple.  I had never 
seen more blood at one time than I did then," shuddered Redhawk, 
moving  back another foot from the edge.
	"I thought a trained knight wouldn't be afraid of a bunch of 
blood?" teased Wynic.
	"That's different!" mumbled Redhawk shamefacedly.
	Wynic decided to change the subject. "Look there's Nebonex!"
 he pointed.
	The great Minotaur had climbed out of the carriage, and stood 
with his son, Nebonex the IX the future Emporer, waving his great 
trident above his head, on top of the carriage.
	The Emporer was almost eight feet tall with huge arms and 
legs, looking like he could crush a wagon without trying.  He had  a 
 huge bull head and two pure white horns sprouting from his head.  He
 wore a silvery surplice and a platinum breastplate strapped across his
 broad chest.
	His son, Nebonex the IX was about a foot shorter, but had a 
matching muscular build, horns, and head.  Indeed he looked like a 
younger version of his father.  He wore a  matching robe and breastplate,
 and carried an identical trident. He however also wore a huge
 broadsword lashed across his back. Redhawk noted all this from 
his seat ten feet back from the edge.
	Wynic looked across the street at a figure walking across 
the roof of an inn.
	"Redhawk," said Wynic.
	"What?"
	"What's the figure over there carrying?" pointed Wynic.
	Redhawk raised his hand so the sun wasn't in his eyes.  "I 
can't tell, he's standing the wrong way, wait...it's a crossbow!"
	"I figured. What kind?" asked Wynic, rising to his feet.
	"Colnic, likely poison tipped," muttered Redhawk also rising 
to his feet.
	The figure raised the crossbow, and turned to face the Emporer.
	"Nebonex look out!" Wynic cried, testing the strength of a 
banner.
	Nebonex and his son didn't need to be told twice.  They didn't
 even look at Wynic, but leaped from the carriage into the crowd.
	The figure had been caught off guard by Wynic's shout, and
 pulled the trigger on the  crossbow. The crossbow bolt whizzed by
 where Nebonex's son had been, and broke the glass window of the 
store below Redhawk.
	The knight watched as Wynic  started to carry himself across 
the banner.  The banner was swinging wildly as the assassin dangling 
from it continued to pull himself across.
	Wynic was half way across the banner before the figure
 realized it was in immediate danger.  He quickly pulled out a knife, 
and began sawing through the rope  that was holding the banner. 
	Redhawk finally got out of his dazed state, and started trying 
to find a safe way to help Wynic.  Tying some left over rope from the
 banners around a chimney, he closed his eyes and climbed hand over 
hand down the rope. He crawled  through the broken window, and into
 the store.  An archery store.


		"I need more time," thought Wynic, grabbing a dagger
 from his sleeve.  In one fluid motion, he threw the blade end over end,
 stabbing the man in the right shoulder.  The man gasped in pain, stepped
 back from the banner, and dropped his knife.
	Swinging his legs up, Wynic crawled onto the roof.
	Wynic's opponent had drawn a shortsword, and was standing 
over Wynic's exposed back.


		Redhawk notched an arrow to a finely crafted bow 
and pulled back on the bow string.  It had been several years since 
he had last used a bow.  He saw the man standing over Wynic, and 
quickly let go of the bowstring, shooting the arrow.  
	He swore viciously as the arrow flew harmlessly by the man's
 head.


	Wynic leapt to his feet, as the arrow flew by his opponent's 
head, distracting him and buying Wynic some valuable time.
	Drawing his shortsword, he deflected a stab with his boot.  He 
stepped into the man's swing, his sword leading to the man's heart. A 
short stab and it was over.
	The street was deathly quiet.
	
Chapter Two
		Nebonex, and his son emerged from the crowd, and 
climbed onto the top of their carriage.  "Great warrior," yelled  
Nebonex in his great baritone voice.  "May I ask that you, and your 
comrade join me for  the remainder of this parade as a show of 
gratitude for saving my son's life?"
	"Emperor," shouted Wynic, struggling to achieve some form 
of flowery speech.  "Myself, and my comrade would be more than 
overjoyed to join you!" he yelled back, in as formal a tone as he could
 muster.  Climbing over the side of the roof, the assassin climbed down 
with all the skill of a Kinian mountain climber.  
	For once a path cleared through the crowd so Redhawk and 
Wynic didn't have to push their way to the carriage. Using a window
 as a step, the assassin scaled up to join Redhawk  and the Emperor.
	The Emperor shouted to the driver, and with a jolt that left 
Wynic's stomach churning, the parade resumed with renewed vigor.
 The incident all but forgotten.
	"Warrior, you fight with the skill and ease of a great knight 
that my son speaks of, but you're obviously not a knight or even a 
soldier of some form either because of your lack of armour!" said 
Nebonex the IIX.  "May I ask your profession?"
	"I kill people your Imperialness," Wynic genuflected with a 
flourish.
	"A mercenary? questioned Nebonex's son.
	"Assassin," Redhawk corrected, bowing.
	"What?" Nebonex cried, somewhat startled.
	"May I ask how an assassin, and a knight became comrades
 and friends.  It seems unlikely to have such a fighting pair?" asked 
Nebonex's son not showing a hint of surprise, but rather a knowing
 smile.
	"Emperor Nebonex, may I have the honour  of introducing
 my friend, Wynic Doxon, the only assassin to become a hero," said
 Redhawk. He eyed the Minotaur Prince, finding it interesting that 
someone from the Minotaur capitol of Evicoth far to the east would 
have heard of Wynic Doxon.
	"You're Wynic Doxon!" Nebonex the IX only half exclaimed. 
"I've heard stories of you far away in Evicoth!"
	"Indeed, Wynic, we have heard great tales about you!  My son 
has developed a passion for finding tales about you, and has been 
looking forward to this day so that he may meet you!"  Nebonex 
grinned.  His son blushed, a strange expression for a minotaur.
	"I do believe I see the palace ahead," noted the Emperor.


		"King Willium, and I must discuss trade routes between 
Arthian and the Minotaur Empire, Wynic," said Nebonex, excusing 
himself from the parlour.  "Perhaps, you would enjoy a game of 
droughts with my son?"
	"I'd be happy to milord," replied Wynic, glancing at Redhawk.
	"Good.  I'll be in King Willium's study," said the Emperor, 
closing the parlour doors behind him.
	Redhawk turned to King Willium's ancient retainer, Gith.  "Do
 you know where we could acquire a game board?"
	"Yes, sire.  Is there anything else you would desire?" asked Gith.
 He glanced around at Prince Nebonex and Wynic.
	Redhawk scratched his chin, and tugged on a mustache.  "How
 about  a bottle of Kinian Red, if you got any?"
	"Of course sire.  We'll never run out of that.  His majesty is quite
 fond of that, especially the brandy," chuckled Gith, opening the doors
 and silently closing them behind him.
	"Could you tell me the story of how you killed Lord Hitlot of 
Jaton?" Prince Nebonex asked.  "There are many versions, and I'd like 
to hear the true story!"
	Wynic was quite flattered.  "Well, you see I didn't kill him, 
Lord Redhawk did!"
	Nebonex stared at Redhawk. "How?"
	"Well, um, you see Hitlot wasn't very good at swordsmanship,
 that's what his renegade knights were for!  His talents lied in the field
 of strategy. His plan for the siege of Jaton was quite extensive, and 
more advanced.  The Field Marshals and generals of the western 
kingdoms never could have dreamed up some of the strategies he had
 planned.  A prime example is his never-ending cavalry charge he had
 planned for Death Canyon," explained Wynic, starting to warm to the
 subject.
	"A never ending cavalry charge?  That's impossible!" 
exclaimed Nebonex.
	"You're forgetting it's inside the canyon which will prevent 
attacks from the flanks.  It was quite a shame he was corrupt, he was
 the greatest military mind ever, just think of the lives we could have 
saved if he hadn't been power hungry.  I believe King Willium has
 copies of the plans Hitlot made in his study," explained Redhawk.
	Gith returned with the game board, and a bottle of Kinian Red.  
Redhawk eyed the bottle greedily.
	"How did you kill him?" asked Nebonex.
	"He tripped on a rug, and impaled himself on my sword," 
shrugged Redhawk, filling his goblet with wine.
	Wynic shook his head and grinned.  "You drink that stuff like 
water. You're going to drink yourself to death some day!"
	"Nah, I'll probably  get killed in a fight, so spare me will you?"
 laughed Redhawk.  He downed the goblet's contents in one long pull.
	"Your move," said Nebonex.
	Wynic studied the board for a second, and then moved a piece
 into the center most square.
	"How did you get to Hitlot anyway?  Wasn't he in a huge
 citadel?" asked Nebonex, moving a piece to oppose Wynic's.
	"Redhawk led a band of Stornium knights to a cave that 
connected with the citadel's basement.  We stumbled around in some
 secret passage-way for about four days until we found a stairway 
that led to Hitlot's study.  It took us another six days to get out of the
 blasted citadel, that's how lost we were!" replied Wynic, taking the 
opposing piece.
 	"We never would have gotten out of the stupid passageway 
if I hadn't been raised in such a castle, and knew how they were 
designed," said Redhawk, pouring himself his third goblet full.
	"Your turn," said Nebonex.
	"Yes," said Wynic, moving a piece to oppose one of 
Nebonex's.  "Well, a drunk man  must have designed that citadel,
 so logically a drunk man could get us out!"
	"You were the one leading!" accused Redhawk.
	"Your turn," said Nebonex.
	"Only after you fell down a flight of stairs, broke your leg, and 
we had to carry you," replied Wynic, taking another of Nebonex's 
pieces.  "Then one of the Stornium knights gave you some Kinian 
Brandy to 'ease the pain'.  So following that drunken logic, we listened 
to you, drunk and barely coherent, we some how got out of that damn 
citadel," said Wynic, pouring himself a goblet of wine.
	"King me," said Nebonex.
	"What?" cried Redhawk, snorting wine and staring at the board.  
Nebonex had captured four of Wynic's piece's, and as soon as he was 
Kinged, he could finish his move by capturing another three.  "Where
 did you learn to play like that?  Did Hitlot teach you?," he cried, 
standing up to get a better view of the board.
	"My tutor back in the University of Evicoth taught me.  I led 
Wynic right into a trap, more of an ambush really," explained Nebonex
 proudly.
	"Your tutor must be damn smart," exclaimed Redhawk.
	"Not really, but then again, we minotaurs are a superior race,"
 said Nebonex.
	"Says who?" spoke up Gith.
	"Minotaurs may lack a bit in cunning, skill and speed, but we 
more than make up for it with knowledge and strength," boasted the 
Prince.
	"Have you heard of the tale of Sir Alart and Lord Watene?" 
asked Gith.
	"Yes," replied Nebonex. "I have a degree in folk lore-"
	"Then you know that skill is far more important, but a blend of 
all is even more important, because without one the rest stagnate," 
explained Gith.
	"Hitlot was one of the highest trained warriors with a
 background in the slums of Jaton, he was also very strong, but he 
was clumsy and lacked skill," added Redhawk, crossing his arms.
	"Gentlemen, gentlemen.  Who cares who's superior?  The 
Stornium Knights far outrank both northern knights and minotaurs,"
 cried Wynic, interposing his body between Redhawk and the 
towering Prince.
	"You're right, as usual Wynic. One Stornium knight could take 
on ten northern knights with his swordarm tied behind his back, and 
still win," agreed Redhawk, sitting down, and pouring another goblet 
of wine.
	Nebonex snorted furiously, and sat down. "Storniums are 
barbarians."
	"Tell that to Lord Blackaxe. He'll be at the banquet tonight. 
Which reminds me, I really must check on the cook and make sure 
everything is going as planned," said Gith, and quietly excused himself.
	"How did you kill Lord Apen?" asked Nebonex, changing the
 subject.


		"Interesting," noted Wynic.
	"What?" asked Redhawk.
	"We were invited to this banquet by King Willium, and invited 
again by Emperor Nebonex, does that mean we have two seats each?"
 Wynic wondered aloud.
	"Don't be ridiculous Wynic!  Although the prospect of drinking
 two goblets at the same time does sound interesting!" said Redhawk, 
looking around the banquet hall and waving at Sir Dillard, a fellow 
knight.  Large elaborate chandeliers hung from the ceiling.  The room 
was circular, and had a mural depicting a herd of beautiful unicorns in 
a meadow.  Stepping into the room, the two warriors felt as if they had
 just stepped through a portal and into a grassy meadow.
	There was a huge rectangle table running the length of the room 
with two crescent moon-shaped tables on both sides of the main table.
	So far present for the feast was King Willium, the Queen and
 their daughter. Chancellor Adams was discussing military matters with
 Lord Blackaxe of Stornium. Wynic wondered briefly if the topic of 
Redhawk's earlier argument with Prince Nebonex would be brought up.
  Lord Magter and Lady Stephanie, two of the few nobles Wynic 
recognized from previous banquets, were in their usual seats, arguing 
as usual.  Lady Bardelias was flirting with a group of young (too young) 
male courtiers. The men practically swooned when she talked to them
 directly.
	"Some things never change, ever notice that Redhawk? Lord 
Magter and Lady Stephanie are prime examples, they've been arguing 
with each other as long as I can remember," Wynic said, shaking his 
head.
	"I think they like arguing with each other," noted Redhawk, 
sitting down next to a wine bottle. "I wonder if they keep score of 
who wins the argument each time."
	Gith looked around, seeing that people especially Willium 
 were getting restless to eat decided to proceed with the meal.  "Ladies 
and gentlemen, I believe everyone is here, so if you will take your seats,
 we shall start the meal," he said loudly. Like a herd of buffalo the halls 
occupants clumped noisily across the marble floor and sat down heavily
 in their seats.
	Wynic sat down in his seat across from Lady Bardelias trying
 to ignore her perfume. No wonder the men nearly swooned, he 
grimaced as he spread a napkin on his lap.
	"Lord Redhawk," said King Willium loudly. "I've noticed how 
fond you are of the wine goblet, so perhaps you could give us a opening 
toast."
	Everyone stood back up as Redhawk cleared his throat. "Ah, a 
toast to their divine majesties, King Willium and Mighty Emperor 
Nebonex, and to the Emperor's mighty son, who shows promise of a 
great leader of the Minotaur Empire. Here's to them," he said, raising 
his goblet in salute and downing the contents in one gulp.
	There was the usual following toasts drawing everyone's 
attention from one end of the room to the other.  "A toast to Wynic
 Doxon," said the Emperor. "For his bravery in the incident today. I 
am forever in yours and Lord Redhawk's debt."
	"Here, here," shouted Lord Blackaxe, raising his goblet in a 
toast. Prince Nebonex glared at Blackaxe.
	"And to all those here," said Wynic deviously. "Like Lady 
Bardelias, Lady Stephanie, and Lord Magter, who have continued
 their traditions for perhaps the last ten years of banquets. Here's to 
their next ten years!"
	King Willium snorted wine out his nose and others laughed. 
The joke was lost on the minotaurs present and the offended nobles
 just turned an angry shade of red and pretended not to hear the joke.
	Wynic sat down as the food started being served and started 
to eat with relish, ignoring the rebukes of Lady Bardelias across from
 him. Lady Bardelias looked thoughtful, seeing that her rebukes had 
no effect.  She prided herself on knowing all the gossip and certainly 
knew of the rumour of Wynic's outbursts concerning his father. "You 
have quite an appetite Wynic. I've heard your father did too so it must 
run in the family," she stated.
	A low rumble sounding like a cat growling came from the 
assassin's chest, as he set his fork down.  Redhawk recognized the
 sound as Wynic's battle cry. If it got any louder it would be like a 
Kinian lion roaring, which meant Wynic would lose his volatile temper 
and more than likely kill Bardelias.
	 Redhawk saw Bardelias open her mouth to add something. 
"Wynic, you shouldn't keep your lady friend waiting," suggested 
Redhawk. "What's the point of staying here and talking to scum like 
Bardelias?"  He ignored the glare from the Lady.
	"Ladies and gentlemen," said Wynic, standing up abruptly. 
"I'm terribly sorry, but I can't stay and keep you company.  I have 
a pressing engagement elsewhere, and I do not wish to make them
 wait for me."  With that, Wynic turned and walked from the room.
	Slumping against the wall in the hallway, Wynic whispered to
 himself. "Damn you Lady Bardelias."  He began to weep.


		"Gith," whispered Redhawk.
	"Yes sire?" asked Gith, leaning over to talk with Lord
 Redhawk.
	"Do you like Wynic?"
	"Yes sire. Like a father loves a son. I'm quite proud of him."
	"Do you like Lady Bardelias?"
	"No sire, I can't say that I do. She's arrogant and I absolutely
 hate arrogant people," answered Gith.
	"Is she staying at the palace tonight?"
	Yes sire. It takes a day to go from Castle Bardelias to Athex 
and she certainly wouldn't stay in an inn. Heavens to Betsy, why would
 she do that?"
	Redhawk grinned.  "She greatly insulted Wynic, that's the
 real reason he left. He has a good hour before that 'pressing 
engagement'. Could you do something to get back at her for him?" he
 whispered, eyeing Bardelias to make sure she couldn't hear.
 "Something childish that she couldn't be blamed on us."
	"The King's daughter found a snake in the palace gardens 
yesterday. I could put it in Lady Bardelias' bed, no one would suspect
 me of putting it there," chuckled Gith.
	"You're a nasty ol' man Gith," commented Redhawk, biting
 his tongue to keep from laughing.

Chapter Three
		"If I didn't know better," said Victoria to Wynic. "I'd 
say you've crying, which is unusual for a man I gave a black eye to this
 morning and barely blinked." Victoria was a little less than six feet tall,
 brown hair, dark brown eyes and rose coloured lips. She was thin and
 sinewy due to a life of hardship, but had a healthy tan. Her hair was 
cut short so it wouldn't get in the way when she was fighting. She was
 wearing a gray fur cloak, brown vest, green skirt and shiny black leather
 army riding boots. If she had been on duty she would have been wearing
 a purple tunic and a yellow kilt. Her shortsword was buckled on her 
belt, and her bow and quiver lay on the seat beside her in the booth.
	The Drunken Dragon Tavern was run by a short fat man called
 Billip. Despite the tavern's exterior look, inside it was warm, cozy, and
 clean. Clean was something most other taverns and inns couldn't say. 
The ceiling, floor, walls, tables, booths, and bar was all made of polished
 Arthian Oak. The chairs, however were made of inexpensive Arthian 
Maple, because they usually get broken one way or another in a brawl.
 This way Billip didn't have to fork out the gold to everytime someone 
breaks a chair.  
	The tavern had a homely smell of fried potatoes, bacon, and 
venison sausages.  Billip brewed his own ale, but sent away for Kinian
 wine due to his own fondness of the famous drink.
	"You're right. I have been crying," Wynic admitted, sitting down
 across from her.
	"Why?" she asked, intrigued.
	"My father was  a cutthroat of some small reknown in Avolic,
 he taught me most of what I know," said Wynic bitterly.
	"Did you like him?" she asked cautiously.
	"Yes, I loved him. And hated him. I-" he shuddered. Wynic 
took a deep breath. "I killed him. Everytime I say that it gets easier,"
 he sighed.
	"Why?"
	"Do you want the long version or the short one?"
	"Whichever you prefer."
	"My father convinced my mother to run away with him 
promising to marry her once he was rich and powerful, which he 
promised her would be soon. It never happened. My mother became
 pregnant and my father left for the Kinian mountains without telling 
her. I was born in a covenant where I lived for about a year. My 
mother died and the sisters raised me until my father came for me 
when I was five. I later learned that he had killed several of the sisters
 because they refused to let him take me. He began teaching me the 
trade and continued to until he started to drink more excessively. Soon
 he-" Wynic sat for a moment quietly. "He started to beat me. If I made
 a mistake he'd beat me. If I was caught stealing, he'd rescue me and 
later beat me. If I disobeyed him he'd beat me. Always later he'd tell 
me it was for my own good and that I deserved it. He said it'd make 
me better, like a smith pounding away at a sword until it's razor sharp
. He was right, I suppose, I'm now the best assassin in the world and 
possibly one of the best fighters, having been taught by my father and 
by Lord Redhawk. He wasn't always bad, he started taking me with 
him when I was twelve, we'd get drunk together like drinking buddies,
 we'd go out, play immature pranks on guards. Then one day an another
 boy came along and accused my father of ditching his mother. It 
occurred to me that my mother wasn't the first of the young maidens to
 be led astray by my father with promises of marriage. I asked him if it 
was true, and he lost his temper and killed the boy. He later almost 
beat me to death. He told me not to speak unless spoken to." By now
 Wynic looked like he was about to burst into tears.
	"Here, drink this, you'll feel better," said Victoria, handing 
Wynic a mug of mulled Kinian wine.
	Wynic took a sip, and his voice noticeably steadied.  "I've 
tried to forget about him, but whenever someone mentions him I lose
 my temper, and all those damn memories come back, threatening to
 drive me insane."
	"Let's go," said Victoria, grabbing her bow and quiver, and 
slinging them over her shoulder.
	Billip waddled over to the archeress and she handed him 
several silver coins.  He took them happily, noticing a tip. "Come 
back again," he called.
	"Where to?" asked Wynic, stepping into the street.
	"There's a park at the end of the street, we could talk there,"
 suggested Victoria, giving Wynic her arm.
	"That's beside my estate," noted Wynic, taking her arm in his.
	"How did you get the estate?" Victoria asked, leaning on his 
shoulder.
	"I bought it from the government when the Lord living there 
died.  I got it for a deal, since I worked  for King Willium occasionally.
 It's becoming more often that I have to put down an uprising or slay 
an ambitious Lord. People are getting far too power hungry."  He 
glanced at her.
	"Back to our original topic.  Why were you crying?" asked
 Victoria, looking up at Wynic. 
	"I was at the banquet celebrating Emperor Nebonex's arrival
 here today," sighed Wynic.
	"I heard about how you saved his life," she said.
	Wynic nodded. "I was eating and this arrogant bitch said I was
 like my father. I might have killed the bitch, but Redhawk reminded me
 about you, so I left  after excusing myself," explained Wynic bitterly. 
"Okay, I told you about me. Now how about you?" asked Wynic, 
forcing a smile.
	"What do you want to know?" asked Victoria, sitting down on
 the wooden bench under a huge Arthian maple.
	"I don't know. Why did you become a soldier?" asked Wynic,
 looking around the park.  The sun was stooping below the horizon, 
giving  everytime a reddish tinge.  The park was filled with Sweet 
Williums, Crimson Cascades, lilies and every now and then a rose
 bush trimmed to represent a hero from a old myth.
	"It's better than becoming some merchant or farmer's wife.
 I dread boredom."  Victoria sighed.  "I found that people respect 
those of authority so I went for it.  I later found that I enjoyed the 
excitement of a fight. 
	"Oh?" asked Wynic, putting an arm around her and holding
 her close. She smelled faintly of appleblossoms.
	"Respect," growled Victoria, so suddenly she startled the 
assassin.  "I'm presently hired by the Arthian army as an archer and
 lieutenant.  People respect guards, probably because of the uniform
 and what it stands for.  Some people disagree that women should 
become even mercenaries, but my captain says that as longs as a 
person is worthy of being a mercenary, then he doesn't see what 
the problem is!" sighed Victoria and leaned her head on Wynic's 
shoulder.
	Wynic's senses were more attuned to the dark and Redhawk
 had once joked that he'd make a good owl. His eyes noticed 
something dark against shadow, quickly looked closer, his senses
 becoming alert.  Silently, he tapped Victoria on the arm.
	"What she murmured quietly.
	"Don't get alarmed, but we're being watched," he whispered,
 so quietly she could barely hear him.  Wynic felt her muscles tense. 
"Don't tighten your muscles, relax," he whispered.  Victoria silently 
following his words, and relaxed so much he wondered if she was 
asleep.
	A high chirping sound came from a tree nearby, which 
Wynic recognized as a signal, he counted to ten in his head, and 
slowly  tensed his muscles.  When he reached ten there was a rush
 of movement. Wynic and  Victoria jumped to their feet and drew 
their weapons.
	They were surrounded by five dark clothed men, but Wynic
 knew there was two or three more lurking in the bushes at least. 
"You obviously don't know who you're dealing with!" said Wynic
 so calmly that it startled Victoria and unnerved the cutthroats.
Rogues, Wynic noted mentally. The crime underworld was ruled,
 governed and disciplined by crime Lords. They laid out laws for 
members and the penalty for not following the laws was death. 
One of the laws was no killing in public areas for complicated 
reasons only a politician could understand.
	"Throw down your weapons, and we'll consider letting
 ye go!" sneered  the leader, a huge man about Wynic's height.
	Amateurs! Wynic should have been dead by now if they'd
 been professionals!  "Do you know Lord Redhawk?" asked Wynic
 teasingly.
	"No! Now do as yer told!" threatened the leader, waving his
 sword.  Southern accent, Wynic noted.
	"He's a friend of mine. I'm sure he'd be displeased if he found
 out what you're doing," said the assassin, maneuvering so he could 
see all of his opponents with the exception of one which only Victoria
 could see but Wynic knew he was there.
	"Yea, right, and I'm Wynic Doxon," snorted the leader. His 
companions jeered and laughed.
	"I find that hard to believe," said Wynic.
	"And why's that?" replied the leader.
	"First of all, you're way too ugly to be Wynic Doxon, and 
secondly, I happen to be Wynic Doxon.  I live in that estate right 
over there," Wynic pointed at the walled mansion.
	"Kill the damn liar!" swore the leader fiercely, raising his 
sword.
	Steel flashed, and a Stornium Star shot from Victoria's hand,
 stabbing smoothly into the leader's throat. He sank to his knees, 
clutching at his throat. A gurgle wheezed past his lips.
	Wynic cut circles in the air in front of his opponent's face,
 catching him off guard, so Victoria could stab him in the chest.  
Another two were dead by the time the two lurking behind a bush
 rushed in to help.  Wynic became hard pressed with one man 
attacking him high, another attacking him low.
	Dodging between the blades, Wynic waited until they had
 turned halfway so they could see him. Feigning a stab at the attacker
 on the right, Wynic kicked the other in the side, pushing him so he 
impaled himself on his comrade's sword which had come forward to
 parry Wynic's stab.
	Looking at his comrade in shock, the cutthroat had forgotten
 about Wynic, before it was too late.
	Victoria was bleeding from a cut on her forearm, but nothing
 major.  Ripping a scrap of cloth off one of the dead amateurs, Wynic
 prepared a crude bandage for Victoria's arm. Her fur cloak had been
 ripped length ways, so Wynic placed a cloak from one of the cutthroats
 around the cutthroats around her shoulders to keep her warm.  His own
 cloak had been frayed slightly, but nothing a good tailor couldn't fix.
	"You can stay at my place tonight," he mumbled quietly, taking
 her arm in his.


		"Devid boil some water for me on the stove, and go 
down to the market and buy Lady Victoria a new fur cloak will you?"
 asked Wynic, helping Victoria into a velvet padded chair.  
	"Yes master.  Shall I buy some more food as well?  Lord 
Redhawk eats like a pig," asked Wynic's retainer
	"Yes of course," replied Wynic, still not used to having servants
 even after four years of living in the mansion.
	"So," Victoria sighed.  "All in a days work, eh?" she said, 
pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.  "Too bad we didn't get paid
 for it."
	"Actually, I believe there's a reward for those guys.  So I told
 Devid to send a servant down to the  city patrol office to explain what
 happened, collect the reward, and inform them to remove the carcasses.
  Besides, I think you'll want your Stornium Star back," chuckled the 
assassin, sitting down beside her.
	Victoria reached over and caressed Wynic's face.  Leaning 
forward Wynic gave her a long, lingering kiss.
	"You better go check on the stove," she suggested halfheartedly.
	"Right away," said Wynic, jumping up, and returned with a cloth 
and a pot of hot water.  Removing the crude bandage, he gently daubed 
her cut with the damp cloth, wiping off the dried blood, and cleaning it 
so it could be properly bandaged to prevent infection.  After dressing 
the wound, Wynic wiped his hands on his pants, and went to the kitchen
 with the pot and cloth.
	"Now where were we?" he asked, returning from the kitchen.
	"Victoria stood up and walked over to him. "I don't know," she 
said. "But this feels right," she murmured putting her arms around him, 
and kissing him.
	"You're right. It does feel right," Wynic agreed, scooping her up
 in his arms, and carrying her up to his room.

Chapter Four
		In the middle of the night, Wynic woke as usual and 
crawled out from under the warm silk sheets.  He pulled on a robe, 
gently kissed Victoria on the cheek, and ruffled her beautiful hair.  Not
 wanting to wake her, he moved quickly and silently with the ease of a 
veteran burglar.  He opened the door, stepped quickly past it and closed
 it behind him.  His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he made his way to 
his study.  Entering the shadowy room, he went over to the window, and
 sat down in a comfortable, black leather covered chair.
	Wynic had went through this process almost every night with no 
real reason, other than he couldn't sleep unless he did.  Now it felt as 
normal as taking his next breath.
	Silently, he drifted into a state of half consciousness, and remained
 that way until the first specks of light appeared on the eastern horizon.  
From here he could see the main bulk of the city and even Lake Vormia.
  After awhile, smoke started to rise from chimneys, and people started to
 appear on the streets, starting their day.
	A knock on the door startled the semi-comatose assassin. "Enter,"
 he called.
	Redhawk strolled in with heavy lines under his eyes.  His hair was 
untidy and his mustaches were crooked.
	 "Did you sleep well?" Wynic greeted the knight.
	"No," replied Redhawk.  "It had to do with what Lady Bardelias 
said to me."
	"Oh?"
	"But don't worry about it.  I had Gith put a snake in her bed.  
I'm kinda surprised we didn't hear the scream last night!" laughed 
Redhawk, sitting down in a seat beside him.
	Wynic grinned.  "You don't need to cheer me up. Lady 
Victoria took care of that!"
	"Yes.  Devid said you two were in a fight last night?" asked
 Redhawk, grabbing a bottle of Kinian Red and a goblet.
	"You've heard of that band of rogues preying on people 
during the twilight hours?" asked Wynic. "That was probably them."
	"Yeah?"
	"Well, they tried jumping Victoria and I in the park.  You can't
 see exactly where from here, but I'm pretty sure none of them have 
moved since," explained Wynic, trying to point out the tree in the 
distance.
	"Did you get the reward?" asked Redhawk.  He poured 
another goblet of wine.
	"Devid sent a servant down to the city patrol office for me.
  The fellow will explain what happened and retrieve Victoria's Stornium
 Star as well as collect the reward for me," Wynic said, picking up an
 empty goblet.
	"Wantsum?  So speaking of your Lady friend when do I get 
to meet the lovely girl?" asked Redhawk, filling the proffered goblet.
	"As soon as she awakes to join us in breaking the fast," replied
 Wynic, taking a sip.


		"What was all that racket last night?" shouted Willium, 
sitting down at his fasting table to eat.  He shivered in the chill morning 
air and regretted not wearing one of his thicker tunics.
	"It seems your daughter's pet snake somehow got into Lady 
Bardelias' bed.  The Lady fainted I'm afraid and according to your 
daughter, the young man accompanying the Lady stomped on her 
'poor baby snake's tail and murdered her'.  Your daughter is at this
 moment out in the garden with all her dolls and other pets performing
 a little funeral for the snake, or what's left of him, in the bulb bed," Gith
 explained solemnly.  "Her poor little heart is broken Sire," he sighed. 
Inwardly, he regretted making the princess so sad, but it had to be done
 before the gardener finally got so angry as to depose of the troublesome
 snake.
	"What do you think I should do?  I would hate to have her so 
sad for the rest of the month? Even though the snake has become a 
hassle in the last few days," Willium asked with a semi-sad sigh.
	"If I were you sire, I would dress up as if I was grieving, go out
 and attend the funeral.  Two weeks from now, when she's happier, buy
 her a pony," replied Gith.
	"Gith, if you weren't my retainer and I didn't have a high advisor,
 I'd make you my high advisor in a flash," grinned Willium.
	"Complement accepted, Sire," answered Gith. "Though I doubt 
I'd accept.  The palace would be in ruins without me I'm afraid."
	"Where is Nebonex?  He was supposed to meet me here to 
break the fast?" Willium said impatiently.
	"I shall send a servant up to check on him Sire," Gith said.  
"Perhaps he has gotten lost, the grounds are fairly large after all!" He
 bowed and left to carry out his other duties.


	"Emperor Nebonex," said a servant, patiently knocking on the
 door to the Emperor's guest chambers.  "King Willium has grown quite
 worried about you, and has sent me to check on you."  When there was
 no answer the servant pounded on the door.
	"Good servant," cried Prince Nebonex in disdain.  "Would you 
mind keeping it down?"
	"I'm terribly sorry, Sire, but your father isn't answering, and King
 Willium has grown worried about him," replied the servant.
	"Then just go in and wake him.  My father won't mind," snorted
 Nebonex angrily.  He muttered in old Minotaur.
	"If you wish, Sire," replied the servant, opening the door, and 
stepping inside.  A breeze of fresh air, from the open window, tuned 
the servant's senses, and he recognized the wonderful aroma of bacon.
  Somehow the breeze had carried the smell all the way from the nearest
 tavern, which was obviously serving the first meal of the day.  The smell
 made the servant suddenly hungry as he looked about the room.
	Walking over to the window he started to close it, and suddenly
 cried out.  "Oh no!" he screamed.  "Emperor!"


		"Lady Victoria," cried Redhawk merrily.  "So you are
 as beautiful as a blood rose in full blossom covered in sparkling morning
 dew, like Wynic said."
	"Wynic said that?" Victoria asked surprised.
	"I didn't say that," Wynic admitted.  "But it's more than true."
	Victoria blushed, and sat down.
	"So this is the woman who gave Wynic his first black eye," said
 Redhawk. "Wynic must've been distracted by your outrageous beauty
 to have been hit so hard.  You should be proud of yourself."
	"Who says I'm not?" asked Victoria innocently.
	"Excuse me milady.  I have brought you your meal.  I trust 
you're feeling well this morning?" asked Devid, setting down a plate
 of potatoes, toast, eggs and bacon.
	"Thank you, and yes, I'm feeling much better!" replied Victoria,
 sniffing at the wonderful aroma of bacon.
	"Is there anything else any of you would like?" asked Devid.
	"Thank you, Devid.  I'll have some more Kinian toast," said 
Redhawk.  He leaned back in his chair and politely stifled a belch.  
Taking the plate from Devid, he looked up at him. "Dev' for your lack
 of experience making Kinian food, you would make the most 
experienced Kinian chefs jealous with just the smell."
	"You better take the complement Dev' before he eats it like 
everything else in the place," chuckled Wynic.
	The walls of the dining room were paneled oak and polished
 to a shine, but the significant thing was they had cut each individual 
panel from one huge Arthian oak in a fashion so the grain went all the
 way around the room.  It gave the impression that  you were inside 
some great trunk of a tree, much like Kinian Hollowwood in which 
some Kinians made cottages out of.  Wynic liked the cozy atmosphere
 of the room.
	"So what are you doing today?" asked Redhawk, finishing off 
the last of his food.
	"I don't know.  I had figured on going down to the market, 
and shopping.  Since my funds are so high, I won't need to work for
 several months," mumbled Wynic, shoving his chair away from the 
table.
	"I don't see why you couldn't hold a steady job.  Like I don't
 know, captain of a city patrol or something," suggested Victoria, 
taking a sip of wine.
	"Perhaps, but wouldn't that be a waste of my skills?" Wynic
 asked, standing up and walking over to the heavy oaken door.
	"Maybe you could buy a business or something so that you 
have money coming in everyday and you still don't do any work," 
suggested Victoria.  "I'm not a business type, but I do own several
 shops, the archery shop that the assassin broke a window in yesterday,
 a little sword shop north of here, a glass blowing shop, and a Stornium
 metalshop."
	"Actually," Redhawk cleared his throat.  "I neglected to return
 something to your archery shop," he said, getting up and leaving the 
room.
	"Why would you buy all those shops?" asked Wynic inquisitively.
	"Because now I have something to fall back on when I retire 
or if I'm injured and can't work. Besides, I get free weapons," shrugged
 Victoria.
	"Why did you bring this up?" asked Wynic, leaning against the
 door frame.
	Victoria grinned seductively.  "Lets go shop shopping!"
	The thought struck Wynic as funny and he burst out laughing.
	"Here's your bow," said Redhawk, returning with a finely crafted
 bow.  He looked at Wynic curiously.  "I'm terribly sorry, I forgot to 
return it afterwards!"
	"Apology accepted," Victoria said, accepting the bow.
	"What's wrong with Wynic?" asked Redhawk, staring at the 
assassin who was by now clutching his sides as if to keep his laughter
 suppressed.
	"Nothing.  We're just going shopping," said Victoria standing 
up.


		"What's going on?" yelled Prince Nebonex, snorting 
fiercely and swearing in old Minotaur.
	"Your father!" cried the servant, his voice hoarse as he struggled
 to draw breath. "He's dead!"
	It seemed to the servant that Nebonex was the fastest thing in the
 world, so quick did the Prince bust the oak doors off their hinges.  He 
ran across the hallway to his father's chamber.  The doors landing only
 after he had crossed the huge chamber completely and collapsed in a
 splintered heap.
	"Father," cried Nebonex, quickly searching the room.
	The servant cried, frantically pointing at the window with 
shaking limbs.
	The great minotaur rushed to the open window and cried out
 in horror.  Emperor Nebonex lay on the marble cobblestone several
 floors down.  His neck was twisted awkwardly.
	"Father!" screamed Nebonex, sprinting from the room.
	Chancellor Adams stepped into the hall.  "What's all the damn
 ruckus?" he shouted.
	Nebonex snorted fiercely, lifting Adams above his head, never
 breaking his stride, high above his head and throwing him against the 
wall, out of his way.  Nebonex continued to the grand staircase.  He 
hurdled the balcony, landing on a servant and cushioning his fall.
	"What the hell is going on?" cried King Willium, appearing in 
a doorway.
	Nebonex ran across the grand hall and leaped through a 
window, breaking the very frame of it with his huge bulk.  Shaking
 glass shards off, Nebonex ran across the marble cobblestones to 
his father's body.
	"No!" cried Nebonex, cradling his father's head in his huge
 arms. "No!" he screamed out in dispair.


		The doors to Wynic Doxon's mansion burst open 
and Prince Nebonex rushed into the hall.  "Wynic," he screamed 
hoarsely.
	"Nebonex! What's going on?" shouted Wynic, emerging with
 Victoria and Redhawk from the dining hall.
	"My father's dead," cried Nebonex, sobbing uncontrollably.
	"What? What are you doing here?" asked Redhawk, taking 
Nebonex's arm and steadying the shaking Prince.
	"I didn't know where else to go!" cried the minotaur, trembling.
	"Come in here, and sit down.  Tell us what happened?" said 
Victoria, trying to calm him down.  Motioning him into the dining hall.
  Wynic and Redhawk followed, taking an arm each and helped the 
minotaur into a chair.
	"Okay now, calm down, and tell us what happened," said 
Redhawk, pouring the Prince a goblet of Kinian Red.
	Nebonex took a deep breath.  "My father's dead.  The servant
 found him.  He was lying on the ground outside his window.  His neck
 was broken."  Nebonex started to sob uncontrollably again.
	"Here, drink this," said Victoria, taking the goblet of wine from
 Redhawk.  She held it up to Nebonex's lips.  The minotaur took the 
goblet with a shaking hand, spilling half of it, but managed to drink the
 rest.
	"Okay, now tell us everything," said Wynic soothingly.
	"The servant screamed, and I ran into my father's room to see
 what was going on.  My father was outside, on the ground.  His neck
 was twisted," explained Nebonex, noticeably calmer.
	Redhawk glanced questioning at Wynic.  The assassin nodded
 in reply.
	"What happened then?" asked Victoria, refilling Nebonex's goblet.
	"I ran down there, and then I came here," said Nebonex, 
starting to sob again.
	"How did you get here?" asked Redhawk, pouring himself a
 goblet of wine.
	"I ran," cried Nebonex, taking a sip of wine.
	"All the way?" Victoria asked surprised.
	"Yes," mumbled Nebonex.
	"Nebonex, you do realize your father was assassinated?" asked
 Wynic, startling the huge minotaur.
	"What?"
	"If we can get there before anyone moves his body and talk to 
the servant, we might be able to find the bastard that killed your father,"
 said Wynic, standing up.
	"You're right," said Nebonex, standing up somewhat unsteadily,
 but with powerful determination.  Victoria saw the fierce fire in Nebonex's
 eyes grow, and realized what a great leader this young minotaur Prince
 would become.
	"Redhawk, go get a taxi carriage.  I'll go get our swords.  I have
 a feeling we may need them," said the assassin, leaving the room.  
"Right," agreed the knight, heading for the door.
	"Do you need a weapon Nebonex?  I don't know if we'll need
 it, but I trust Wynic's instinct," asked Victoria, picking up the finely 
crafted bow off the table.
	"Yes, I do," replied Nebonex.  "Oh, gods, what am I going to
 do?" he sobbed suddenly.
	"You're going to find whoever killed your father and the bastard
 who hired him," answered Victoria, sensing the minotaur's worries.  
She handed him the bow.  "You're going to do what your father would
 have done if it had been you.  Tear the countryside apart until you find
 the murderer!"
	The fire in Nebonex's eyes grew to a roar.  "What's your name?"
 he asked suddenly.
	"Victoria," she said, holding out her hand.
	"Thank you, Victoria!" said Nebonex, shaking her hand.

Chapter Five
		"Nebonex!  Where have you been?  We were very 
worried about you when you ran off," cried King Willium.  He rushed
 across the grand hall to meet them.  His face was puffy and red, and 
he was obviously flustered.
	"You haven't moved Nebonex's body, have you?" Wynic 
demanded, intercepting the King.
	"Well no.  We've been busy looking for Prince Nebonex,"
 snapped Willium.
	"Good.  Now where's the servant that found him?" asked 
Wynic.  "Send the servant up to Nebonex's chambers," he said, 
following Nebonex up the grand staircase.  "Redhawk, you and 
Victoria check Nebonex for bruises," yelled  the assassin from the 
balcony.
	"Right," Redhawk called back, already helping Victoria 
through the broken window frame.
	"What's going on here?" yelled Willium, utterly confused.
	"Nebonex was assassinated," came the reply.


	Redhawk kneeled down, and probed the Emperor's huge 
chest for broken bones. "Check his head for bruises," he mumbled
 to Victoria.
	She nodded and knelt down beside the knight, and looked
 the Emperor's huge head over.
	"He has three broken ribs, probably broken from the fall," 
said Redhawk, looking up at Victoria.
	"There's a huge bump on the back of his head. His left horn
 is broken at the tip, and his right cheek is bruised," Victoria glanced
 back at Redhawk.


	"We'll have to wait for the servant, so lets look for any weapons
 the assassin might have dropped," suggested Wynic, starting to look
 around the grand chamber.
	"Wynic," yelled Redhawk from outside.
	"Yeah?" the assassin yelled, going over to look out the window.
	"He has three broken ribs, his neck is snapped, there's a huge 
bump on the back of his head, his left horn is broken at the tip, and he 
has a bruise on his right cheek," the knight yelled up at Wynic.
	"Stand out of the way so I can see," yelled Wynic.  "Nebonex 
how did you find him?" 
	The minotaur walked over to the window and looked out.  "His
 neck was bent towards the left, and he was lying on his right side with 
his left arm pinned under his back," he yelled.
	Redhawk moved the Emperor's body back to its original position.
	"Wynic pursed his lips thoughtfully.  "Okay, how did he break 
his horn, and get his cheek bruise," he yelled.
	Redhawk shrugged.
	"Search the bushes for any weapons," the assassin yelled.  He 
turned to the minotaur.  "Did you find any weapons?" he asked Nebonex.
	"Nothing, but my father's sword, shield, and trident," answered
 Nebonex, sitting down on the bed.
	"You asked to see me, Sire?" said the pale servant, appearing
 in the doorway.
	"Yes, where was everything in the room when you arrive?" 
asked Wynic, sitting down beside the minotaur to think.
	"The windows were open more, and the closet door was open,"
 answered the servant.
	Wynic crossed the room quickly, and opened the closet door.  
The closet was empty.  "Why was the closet door open?" he asked, 
turning to the servant.
	The servant shrugged.
	"Was there any candles or lamps lit when you entered?" asked
 Wynic.
	"Yes, the one on the night table," replied the servant. The candle
 was burnt out.
	"Nebonex.  What height was that candle when you were last in
 here," the assassin asked.
	"About an inch.  Wait a minute, that means my father lit the 
candle this morning about a hour before the servant discovered my 
father," said Nebonex, leaping to his feet.
	"Which means your father was killed less than a hour before
 the servant discovered him dead.  Did anyone visit your father during
 that time?" asked Wynic, walking over to the window. 
	"No," answered the minotaur, dismissing the servant.
	"That means the intruder came through the  window which has
 a lock," said Wynic, checking the window.  "And this one has been 
picked," he noted.
	"Wynic, Nebonex, I found a mace!" yelled Victoria.
	"Okay. Bring it up here," yelled Wynic to Redhawk and 
Victoria.  He sat down by the window and pondered why the assassin
 had left his weapon.  Either he was an amateur, which wasn't likely 
from what Wynic saw of the lock, or it had been left behind on purpose.
  A calling card perhaps?
	"So what do we know?" asked Victoria, when she and Redhawk
 appeared in the doorway.
	"Where would you say the mace was made?" Wynic asked.
	"It was made in Avolic," answered Victoria. "The metalsmith
 carved his name and the date he forged it into the handle."
	"Okay, the assassin was likely a Colnician, with the ability 
to pick locks.  Obviously skilled and experienced.  He is left handed.
 He killed the Emperor this morning, so he's probably fleeing right 
now," explained Wynic.
	"How do you know he's left handed?" demanded Nebonex.

	"Nebonex," said Redhawk. "Stand in front of me, and try to
 punch me in the right cheek with your right fist."  The minotaur tried,
 but couldn't, it was too awkward.
	"So. I just use my left hand."
	"Since you're right handed, that means that your left arm is 
weaker than your right so you can't really cause much damage with
 your left as you could with your right," explained Wynic, from down
 the hall.
	Nebonex stopped suddenly and looked thoughtful.
	"Come on. What are you waiting for? We have to go check 
the city guard records, and see how many Colnic's left the city this 
morning," yelled Redhawk impatiently.
	"I just thought of something," said Nebonex, looking at Wynic.
	"What?" asked the assassin.
	"Do you know what would happen if word of this reaches my
 mother in Evicoth?" the minotaur asked.
	"No," shrugged Wynic.
	"My mother stayed in Evicoth to watch over my younger 
brothers and sisters, as well as take care of the politics in my father's
 absence.  She has a terrible temper, and would almost certainly 
declare war on Arthian," explained Nebonex.
	"Undoubtedly, the news of your father's death has already 
spread to the minotaurs and messengers have been sent already to 
tell the Empress," said Wynic thoughtfully.  He dreaded politics even
 though it was usually involved in his line of work.
	"I'll go talk to King Willium, and take care of this matter of 
war. You, Victoria and Redhawk, go to the city guards and find this
 assassin," said Nebonex, adopting an official tone.
	"Right, let's go," cried Wynic, racing down the grand staircase,
 Redhawk and Victoria right behind him.
	"King Willium," yelled the minotaur. "I wish to speak with you 
in your study."


		"I don't understand! Why would your mother declare
 war on Arthian?  We didn't do anything," complained Willium, leaning
 forward in his chair.
	"My mother doesn't need a reason, her wrath is so great that 
she'd likely tear Arthian apart herself, if she didn't have an army to do
 it for her.  Now what we have to do is send for aid from Colnic and 
Kinian in this matter. You have more experience in these matters, so 
I'm asking you to help me?" explained Nebonex, standing up and pacing.
	"I'll do it for you Nebonex, but what are you going to do?" 
replied Willium, looking about his study.
	The King's study was white washed with a marble pillar on 
either side of the huge oak door.  Facing the door was a giant window,
 which overlooked the royal gardens, and the southern corner of the 
city.  The other two walls were covered with shelves filled with books
 and scrolls.  the only thing that made the study truly unique was that 
the desk and the King's chair were raised about two feet above the 
floor so that the King looked more domineering, this however had no
 effect on Nebonex due to his height.
	"I will be grieving, may I ask to use the royal catacombs below
 the palace to store my father's body?" asked Nebonex hoarsely.
	"Yes, of course you may. You may use my crypt, I'm not using
 it!" said Willium, making an attempt to cheer Nebonex up.
	"Don't bother. Right now the only thing that could do that would
 be knowing that the bastard who did this is dead," replied the Prince,
 reaching for the door.  "That or killing him myself!"
	"Gith will show you to the catacombs."


		"Victoria. What are you doing here?  You don't have
 work today," cried the captain harshly.
	"You've heard of Nebonex's death?" asked Victoria, placing 
her hands on her hips.
	"Of course!  It's all over the city! Now what's going on?" yelled
 the captain, his face turning red.
	"We're looking for the Emperor's assassin.  We need to see 
your records from this morning," said Wynic, pushing past Victoria.
	"He wasn't assassinated!  He fell out the window," declared 
the captain.
	"Then why did we find this near the Emperor's body?" asked
 Wynic, holding the mace in front of the captain's face.
	"So he dropped it when he fell," spat the captain.
	"The Emperor doesn't even own a mace!" argued Wynic.
	"So what? You still can't see the records. Only guards of high
 rank can see them," answered the captain smugly.
	"I insist," said Wynic, his hand closing over the hilt of his sword.
	"Who are you, and by what right do you order me about?" 
snorted the captain, signaling the guards to be ready.
	"Wynic Doxon, by direct orders of King Willium, the Emperor's
 son Prince Nebonex and Lord Blackaxe!" spat Wynic, adding Lord 
Blackaxe's name, the most intimidating man in the world. Everyone 
was afraid of Lord Blackaxe.
	The captain and his guards trembled slightly when Wynic 
mentioned the Black Lord.  "Roberts," cried the captain. "Bring this
 morning's records."  One of the guards went into the tower and 
returned a moment later with a small stack of paper.
	Taking the stack from the guard, Wynic sat down cross-legged
 on the ground.
	"Remember, we're looking for a Colnic, probably dressed like 
a mercenary, probably with his pockets loaded down with gold coins," 
Redhawk reminded them, sitting down beside Wynic, and taking a 
third of the stack from the assassin.
	Sitting down, Victoria took the other third of the stack.
	"This is perfect Wynic, a complete description of each person,
 where they're from, their age, and where they're going.  We'll find the 
bastard in no time!" remarked Redhawk, holding up a sheet for Wynic
 to see.
	"Shut up, Redhawk, and look," snapped Wynic.


	"Watch your head young sire," said Gith, pointing at a stalactite
 hanging from the ceiling of the cavern.
	Nebonex looked up from carrying his father and ducked just in
 time.
	"You really should keep your head up so you can see where 
you're going," said Gith, holding up the torch so he could see if Nebonex
 was not injured.
	"Old man, you scampered across those slippery rocks with no
 trouble at all!  How do you do it?" asked Nebonex, slumping against 
the cave wall.
	"I'm a painter. I come down here often to find inspiration from
 the beauty of the place," replied Gith with a shrug.
	"What beauty? It would be pitch black down here if not for 
your torch. As it is you can barely see ten feet ahead of you!" snapped
 Nebonex, standing back up straight.
	"You will see the beauty, Sire, as soon as you go around that 
curve ahead.  Which is why the Arthian royalty decided to bury their 
dead down here.  The part of the cave ahead widens to about two 
hundred feet wide and fifty feet high.  It also has a natural light which
 seems to come from the rocks themselves," explained Gith, walking
 ahead.  
	"Whatever! But I won't believe it until I see it!" replied 
Nebonex, following the retainer.
	"This, Sire, is to me the most beautiful place in the world," 
said Gith, rounding the corner to the left.
	Nebonex's eyes widened in astonishment, and his mouth 
gaped open.
	"Seeing is believing. I see that you're speechless," remarked
 Gith with obvious pleasure.
	At the far left of the cave a beautiful turquoise waterfall fell 
from an unseen alcove in the ceiling.  The water from the falls rushed
 across the surface of the cave floor, and disappeared into a turquoise
 whirlpool at the far right end of the cavern.  The ceiling of the cave 
was filled with stalactites almost twenty feet long.  The stalactites 
were beautiful blues, greens, purples, and whites.  But the special
 effect was that the underground river that flowed the length of the
 cavern reflected the ceiling.  The entire effect was dazzling.
	"It's the most wondrous thing I've ever seen!" murmured 
Nebonex.
	"Wait till you see some of the other chambers.  Like that 
one up there!" said Gith, pointing to a cave entrance jutting out of
 the far wall of the cavern. "That's where the crypts are!"
	"How do we get up there?" asked Nebonex, looking around
 anxiously.
	"King Darlyrel had stairs carved out of the rock four hundred
 years ago, that leads up there.  Darlyrel's father was a very fat man 
as you will soon see, and fell through the a patch of soft ground, killed
 himself on the rocks below, and discovered this cavern.  Darlyrel, and
 several knights explored the cavern, and the new king became deter-
mined to make this the final resting place for all the royal family," 
explained Gith, walking towards the falls.
	"Where's the stairs?" Nebonex demanded.
	"Oh, did I forget to mention that?" asked Gith.  "It's behind 
the waterfalls."
	Following Gith, Nebonex asked: "What causes the light?"  
He looked at the glowing walls curiously.
	"It's been suggested that this place is sacred to the Lord.  But
 I believe it goes farther than that," Gith answered, disappearing behind
 the falls.
	"How far down are we?" Nebonex asked, joining Gith behind
 the falls.
	"Right here?  I'd estimate about six or seven hundred feet," said
 Gith, shrugging.
	"That's impossible!" argued Nebonex, following the retainer up
 the narrow  stairway.
	"One of the past Kings had it measured, so argue with him," 
shrugged Gith.  "Ah, here we are, the royal crypts!"
	The colours in the crypt were limited to blue and white, the 
effect giving a chilly appearance and dulling the cavern below.  
Stalactites covered a ceiling about forty feet up, and stalagmites 
dotted the floor.  In between the two largest stalagmites was a large
 stone platform covered with a thick silk cloth from the Minotaur Isles.
	Removing the cloth, Gith said: "Place your father here.  The 
torch is starting to go out.  I'd like to give you a tour, but we really must
 leave so we're able to make it back through the part of the cave that is 
without light."
	Lifting the Emperor onto the platform, Nebonex whispered: "I'll 
make you proud father, so proud."
	Gith placed the silk cloth over the great minotaurs body.
	"Let's go," said Nebonex, the fire in his eyes burning proudly.

Chapter Six
		"I'll go ask if the guards remember if this guy was left 
handed," said Victoria, holding up a parchment for Wynic and Redhawk
 to see.  She rose to her feet and dusted off the back side of her skirt.
	"Go ahead," mumbled Wynic, glancing at her.
	"How much do you like her?" asked Redhawk, setting down his 
stack of parchment when Victoria was out of earshot.
	"What?" mumbled Wynic.
	"Victoria. How much do you like her?" repeated Redhawk.
	Wynic looked up, thoughtful.  "I'm not sure. She's so smart and
 political, which aren't my strong points.  I doubt if this will last long."
	"Well, lets compare her with, say, Lady Bardelias," suggested 
Redhawk.
	"Lady Bardelias is not a good example of all womankind," 
snorted Wynic, setting down his stack.  "Well, if Victoria's guy doesn't
 match, we'll have to check South Gate, North Gate and possibly even
 North Port and South Port.
	"We have a match," Victoria announced returning triumphantly.
  "The guards say he was acting peculiar, and they think he gave them a
 false name."  She smiled strangely at Wynic.
	"Where'd he go?" asked Wynic, grabbing the records and 
standing up.
	"West to Avolic, that's about a hundred leagues which means
 about ten days by horse, seven or eight if we can get some really fast,
 dependable ones," replied the archeress, stuffing the record in a pouch.
	"We'll need a suitable escort if Nebonex is planning on going.  
How about a legion of minotaurs and five score Arthian Knights.  That
 means we'll need about a hundred good horses since the minotaurs 
can keep up on foot," explained Wynic, motioning the captain over.
	"I know where to find the best," Redhawk promised.
	"Yes, Sire?" asked the captain.
	"Sorry for inconveniencing you, Captain," Wynic apologized,
 handing over the records. "I know you were just doing your job."
	"No problem.  I just wish you'd wear some kind of insignia 
or something," answered the captain.
	"That could be arranged," Wynic conceded.
	"Redhawk, go buy those horses you mentioned. Victoria and
 I'll go round  up a hundred knights for an escort," the assassin told 
Redhawk.
	"I'll get right on it, Redhawk assured him, and turned on his 
heal and started towards the South Gate marketplace.


		"Can you get me five score of your fastest, most reliable
 war-horses by tomorrow?" asked Redhawk, handing the horse trader
 a bottle of Kinian Red.
	"How much will you give me pur horse?" slurred the horse 
trader, taking another gulp of the precious wine.  The horse trader 
was a bearded brute of a man with a shaved head.  He proudly wore
 a giant saber strapped to his back.
	"Ten silver coins a horse," offered Redhawk, pouring himself 
a goblet of wine.
	"Hmm, I usually take fifteen copper," shrugged the horse trader.
  "Dozen silver."
	"Eleven," haggled the knight.
	"No deal," refused the horse trader, going back to his drinking.
	"I'll make you a deal you can't refuse.  One platinum a horse, 
and you deliver them all to the royal palace by tomorrow morning," 
declared Redhawk.
	"Deal," agreed the trader, spitting in his hand and offering it 
to Redhawk.
	Redhawk shrugged, spat on his palm and shook the trader's
 hand.


		"Dillard open up.  We need your help," yelled Wynic,
 banging on the door.  When there was no answer, Wynic yelled again.
  "If you don't answer me, I'll break the door down!"
	"What do you want Wynic?  Can't you see I'm busy?" the knight
 yelled from the second story window.
	"Why don't you come down so we don't have to yell?" yelled 
Wynic.
	"I'm half naked that's why, you bastard!" yelled Dillard, his head
 appearing in the window.
	"Don't talk like that.  There's a lady out here!"
	"There's one in here too!  So go away!" yelled the knight, dis-
appearing.
	"I guess we'll just talk in your bedroom then?" shouted Wynic.
	"I'm coming!  Keep your pants on!"
	"Look who's talking!" laughed Wynic.
	Dillard appeared in the doorway wearing a red tunic and white
 kilt.  He had dark brown, shoulder length hair, and flowing mustaches.
  He had unusual purple eyes, a broken nose, and a U-shaped scar 
below his right eye.  "What do you want Wynic?" he asked irritably.
	"We need five score knights to escort the Emperor's son to 
Avolic," explained Wynic, leaning against the door frame.
	"Why?"
	"To capture the Emperor's assassin of course," Wynic shook
 his head.  He wondered if Dillard would believe him and if he did 
would he still go back to bed.
	"I heard he fell out the window and broke his neck," said 
Dillard, turning to Victoria.  "And who are you, beautiful Lady?"
	"Victoria Felangalis," replied the archeress.
	"What's going on?" asked a woman, appearing at Dillard's 
side.  Her lack of modesty was probably due to wine, as was Dillard's
 bloodshot eyes.  Wynic blushed and pretended not to notice, Victoria
 ignored her all together by looking away.
	"This is Wynic Doxon and a friend of his, Victoria Helangilos,"
 said Dillard, allowing the woman to see by him.  Victoria winced at 
the mangling of her last name, one of the reasons she rarely told it to 
anyone.
	"You never told me you knew Wynic Doxon!" the woman 
accused Dillard.
	"I haven't had the chance for about ten hours.  Did I also 
forget to mention I also know Lord Blackaxe?  We go cougar hunting
 together in the Kinian Mountains!" said Dillard with a wink at Wynic. 
 The assassin stifled a laugh by biting on his tongue.
	Victoria also saw the wink and turned away so the woman 
couldn't see how red her face was.
	"Oh darling, I'll be waiting upstairs while you attend to bus-
iness," the woman whispered to Dillard, and seductively climbed up
 the stairs. 
	"I'm afraid you won't have much time for that.  You have 
orders from King Willium himself to find five score knights to be at
 the palace tomorrow morning," lied Wynic.  "I'm sorry I can't help,
 but the only knights I truly know are you and Redhawk."
	"I know Wynic. Don't worry about me, she'll be here when
 I get back," smiled Dillard. "The hangover should start to kick in 
sometime soon and I really didn't want to be around for it," he said,
 closing the door behind him.
	"Well, that was quick. Now what do we do?" asked Victoria,
 looking up at Wynic seductively.
	"I don't know.  We could go somewhere and talk.  Do you 
know a place?" he asked, pulling the archeress to him and wrapping
 his arms around her waist.
	"Of course I do.  I know just the place," she smiled up at the
 assassin.
	"I thought you would!"


		Dismounting from her warhorse, Victoria motioned 
Wynic to follow her.  They had galloped at an easy pace for half a 
hour after leaving North Gate, and arrived at a maple bush. 
	Dismounting, Wynic took the reins of his roan horse and followed
 the soldier through the dense trees.  The huge maples had large, low 
hanging branches, which made riding horseback impossible.  The 
ground was covered with leaves from past autumns,  wild flowers,
 wild lilies and the occasional patch of trilliums.  Broken branches and
 twigs made it impossible to walk without sounding like a herd of buffalo
 or aurochs.
	Finally Wynic heard the faint sound of rushing water and he 
knew their destination must be near.  He also noticed a quickening in
 Victoria's pace, which could only mean anticipation. His heart felt like
 it would erupt when he stepped into a clearing, and he could see the 
bubbling creek.
	"The water comes from a spring upstream, and disappears 
again downstream from here.  So with no real river, I doubt anyone,
 but us, know about this place," explained Victoria, tying her horse to
 a maple.
	"How'd you find this place then?" asked Wynic, after he'd tied
 his horse.
	"I nearly died near here once, I probably wouldn't have 
survived if I hadn't stumbled into this place," sighed Victoria, untying
 her bedroll.  "I'll lay out the bedrolls, you go find some firewood," she
 said, setting the bedroll down.
	Wynic nodded and returned later to find Victoria sitting on a 
flat rock by the creek with her back to him.  Moving so quietly that 
nothing could have heard him, Wynic checked to make sure he didn't
 step on the smallest twig, scuff the ground or bump the smallest of 
pebbles until he was standing three inches from her.  Leaning over so
 his mouth was barely an inch from her ear, he screamed.  "Victoria!"
	Victoria was so startled that she jumped up with a cry and into
 the creek, creating a splash like a miniature tidal wave that went across
 the creek and splashed up on the rocks.  Turning around, she looked
 up at Wynic, her face crimson red with embarrassment. She leapt for-
ward, grabbed his leg and pulled Wynic in.
	Struggling to reach the surface to breath, Wynic felt Victoria 
push down on his head.  When he finally surfaced, he gasped for air, 
just before Victoria pushed his head down again.  Acting limp, the 
assassin stopped struggling, held his breath and blew out small bubbles,
 one at a time.  Almost immediately Victoria yanked him to the surface,
 fearing she had drowned him by fooling around.
	Pushing his red hair out of his eyes, Wynic pulled Victoria 
towards him. "Gotcha!" he whispered in her ear as he held her close.
	"Don't you ever scare me like that again!"  Victoria smiled at 
him. Putting her hands up to caress his face, before drawing him closer.
 Her feet slipped on the smooth rocks on the bottom of the creek and 
she fell onto Wynic, their lips meeting under water.
	Water surged outward and Wynic came to his feet, Victoria in
 his arms and their lips fused together in a kiss.
	Stepping back from Wynic, Victoria untied the knot on her now
 soaked fur cloak and threw it over her shoulder onto dry land. Untying
 the bow on her brown vest, she slowly pushed it over her head and 
tossed it beside her cloak. Walking very slowly backwards into deeper
 water, she unbuckled her sword belt and slid her wet skirt off.  By 
now the sparkling water was around her shoulders, hiding her beautiful
 figure from the assassin and her wet hair dragging with the current.
	Wynic swam out to meet her, wondering idly when he was going
 to wake up from this dream.


		"The day I met Redhawk was the day my life started 
down a whole new road, one that was straight and paved instead of 
having barricades in the way, detours, and highway men every damn
 step of the way.  He walked into a barroom in Avolic and asked for
 me.  Somehow he had heard that I was hiring out like a mercenary. 
 So he hired me, and  suddenly, Hitlot was dead, and my life was 
starting down a road to success.  Whenever there was an over ambitious
 noble and posed a threat to the Kingdom, I was hired.  I no longer had 
to cut the throats of people who were no threat to anyone, because it 
was the only thing I know how to do," said Wynic, looking down at 
Victoria in his arms, and then back at the fire they had built.  "Redhawk
 taught me to read and write like a professional, he trained me in tradi-
tional swordsmanship as well as horsemanship and archery. His squire,
 Derick, was a great help. The lad is currently up in Kinian becoming 
an apprentice doctor so he can better serve Redhawk.  I no longer 
have my conscience to deal with, because I'm not murdering innocent
 people, and that's what's important to me," the assassin sighed.
	Victoria looked up at Wynic and snuggled in closer.

Chapter Seven
		"I need a hundred platinum coins to pay for the horses
 out in the courtyard," said Redhawk. He sat back in his velvet chair
 and admired Willium's study.  He took a careful sip of wine and 
braced himself for the King's outburst.
	"What?" exclaimed King Willium. "Are you crazy? A hundred
 platinum?"
	"Your majesty, these are the fastest, most reliable and best 
trained warhorses in all of Arthian," pleaded Redhawk.  "They're 
more than worth a hundred platinum!  I had to barter with the owner
 to get them at such a low price."
	"Low?" shouted the King, standing up and pacing his study. 
"You call that low?  That's an outrage!"
	"Sire, the price is more than reasonable, besides we can sell 
them back later for ninety platinum and then we've only lost ten platinum.
  Besides consider it a favour for Nebonex.  Please pay it.  The culprit 
has almost a two day head start already.  We could take whatever the 
assassin got paid when we catch him, and use that to reimburse our 
losses," argued Redhawk.
	"Oh, all right, here's the key to the vault," reasoned Willium, 
handing over the key to the knight.
	"You won't regret it, Sire," Redhawk assured the King.
	"I already regret it," grumbled Willium, crossing his arms, and 
sitting down behind his desk.


		"Lord Redhawk, your payment is most agreeable," 
said the horse trader, running his hands lovingly through the platinum
 coins lovingly.
	"I thought you'd say that!" repliedRedhawk.
	"Redhawk, come here. I want to introduce you to someone,"
 yelled Nebonex.  He waved at the knight impatiently.
	Redhawk turned around and saw Nebonex standing beside 
another minotaur, a General by his uniform, or in the minotaur's case,
 his kilt.
	The knight jogged over to join them.
	"Lord Redhawk, it is my pleasure to intruduce you to the 
esteemed General Gisoni, my mentor and friend, who will be leading
 the legion of minotaurs you mentioned earlier," said Nebonex.
	"General Gisoni,"said Redhawk, spreading his arms in the 
symbol of comradeship.
	"Lord Redhawk," the minotaur replied in a rough and thickly
 accented voice. He duplicated Redhawk's greeting flawlessly.
	Redhawk and Gisoni took an immediate liking to each other 
and were soon talking like old comrades.
	"Where's Wynic and Victoria?" asked Nebonex suddenly.  
Redhawk shrugged, not the least bit worried.  By the time the two 
did show up, half of the knights had shown up in the courtyard, and
 were loading supplies and checking gear. 
	"Where have you two been Wynic?" cried Nebonex, running
 tiredlessly over to Wynic and Victoria.
	"Terribly sorry, Sire.  We slept in by accident, must have been
 all the excitement," lied Wynic flawlessly.
	"Wynic," yelled King Willium. "There you are! I've been looking
 all over for you!  Give this letter to Queen Elexenia, I understand you
 know her quite well.  It explains the situation here in Athex, and our 
need of help."
	"I'll give it to her, Sire. You can count on me," replied Wynic,
 stuffing the letter in his pack.
	"Good, we'll await your return," said the King. He hurried off 
to talk to Nebonex.
	"Sire."
	Wynic turned around in his saddle to see Gith.
	"Sire, you know I love you like a father would.  Don't you?" 
asked Gith.
	"I do, and I love you like a son should, I think," said Wynic, 
blinking back tears.
	"My father gave this to me when I turned twelve, before I 
discovered my love of art and painting.  I'd like you to have it, I'll 
never use it," said Gith, handing the assassin a longsword, wrapped
 with so many furs that Wynic couldn't see it.  Unwrapping the weapon,
 layer after layer, Wynic set the furs on the back of his horse.  "It's 
beautiful," cried Wynic, holding the sword in front of his face.
	The sword was almost as long as a long sword, but had a 
strange adjustment on the handle.  It was made of burnished platinum,
 or perhaps palladium, judging from the white tinge to the shiny metal. 
 It reflected the light of the sun like a mirror.  It was surprisingly 
lightweight, even for palladium.  "It's a bastard sword, sometimes 
called an one and a half hand sword, because you can use it with 
one hand or two hands.  The hilt has been counterbalanced, so you'll
 be surprised at how light it is.  My father told me how it was made 
during the last Vormian Dynasty.  You know how they use carbon 
dust to make steel stronger?  Well, they used diamond dust, diamonds
 being impossibly strong they make the sword much stronger than any
 regular blade.  In addition the pommel twists off to reveal that the 
blade is partially hollowed out.  If you pour about a cup of water in
 there, it will make it swing faster and hit your opponent harder. However
 that means you might tend to overswing, so be careful," explained Gith.
 "Don't ask about that water thing, all I know is that it works!"
	"Thank you, Gith.  Paint something for me?" the assassin asked,
 sliding the blade into his belt.
	"What would you like?" asked Gith.
	"A portrait of Victoria," whispered Wynic, looking at Gith seriously.
	"Do you love her?"
	"As usual Gith, I haven't got a clue!"
	"Time will tell, Sire. She is a beautiful young Lady.  However, I
 doubt if my old eyes could do her beauty justice!"
	"Thank you again, Gith," said Wynic.
	"You're welcome, Sire!" said Gith.
	Wynic spurred his horse, and galloped ahead to join Redhawk
 and Nebonex.
	"Let's see the description of the assassin, Wynic," suggested 
Redhawk.
	"Victoria has it in her pouch."
	"Where's Victoria then?" demanded Nebonex.
	Wynic turned around in the saddle, and saw the archeress 
talking to King Willium.  "She's busy talking to the King," he muttered
 with a shrug, turning back to face Nebonex.  The minotaur's face was
 level with Wynic's, even though the assassin was on horseback.
	"Oh!  Did I introduce you to General Gisoni?" Nebonex asked,
 looking around for the minotaur.
	"No. You didn't."
	"I'll go find him then!" Nebonex said with a wave, jogging 
towards the gates.
	"Who's in charge, Wynic?" asked Redhawk, poking the assassin
 in the ribs.
	"I think Nebonex is."
	"I thought you were!"
	"Okay," said Wynic, standing up in the saddle.  "Fellow 
comrades, General Gisoni is in charge of the minotaurs and Sir Dillard
 is in charge of the knights.  If there are any problems report to them, 
myself, Prince Nebonex, or Lord Redhawk.  Let's open the gates and
 get going," he shouted loudly to the knights.
	"Great speech! Short and to the point," Redhawk mock 
applauded as Wynic sat back down.
	"What about me?" asked Victoria, riding up beside Redhawk.
	"You'll be in charge of scouts," answered Redhawk.
	"And what will you be in charge of?" asked Victoria.
	"Keeping track of the watch, of course," replied Wynic, 
knowing how much the knight hated keeping a watch.  Redhawk
 grumbled, but said nothing.


		"Why did you make me in charge of the watch, Wynic?"
 asked Redhawk from across the campfire that night. The sky was dark
 and the constellations were overcast.  The sound of crickets was enough
 to make Wynic regret coming.
	"Because the person in charge of the watch always has to do 
the last watch of the night since its the time a camp is most likely  to 
be attacked. So I picked you so I would have someone to talk to 
when I wake up in the middle of the night," the assassin grinned, 
climbing into a bedroll beside Victoria.
	"I knew you made that up," smiled Victoria, pulling Wynic 
closer and kissing him on the cheek.
	"Hey, I had to do something to keep Redhawk busy, or he'd
 probably drink brandy all the way to Avolic," he said, kissing her back.
	"Don't do that here, Wynic.  You'll give some of these younger
 knights nightmares," said Redhawk with a snicker.
	"Don't be silly, Redhawk," smiled Wynic.  "All of these knights
 have probably visited Lady Bardelias' bedroom!"
	"Very true, very true," agreed Redhawk, rolling out his bedroll.


		The next six days went  by slowly, filled with boring 
riding and little talking.  The same couldn't be said for Wynic and 
Victoria, who talked constantly, each day growing closer.
	"The scout says that Avolic is about half a league away," 
said Victoria, to the small huddle of companions.
	"Good," said General Gisoni, keeping pace with the horses
 easily.  "My men are getting restless, the heat out here in the desert
 is causing some severe tempers.  They're not used to this!"
	"Don't worry Gisoni.  Avolic is an oasis, with a powerful 
geyser, that is said to reach four hundred feet up and spray the entire
 city with an unnatural rainfall every six hours," Wynic assured the 
minotaur.
	"I hope you're right."
	"Nebonex, wouldn't it be wise to say that it is General Gisoni
 who is visiting Avolic, so we can avoid parades and stuff like that?" 
Redhawk asked.
	"Redhawk, sometimes you amaze me," said Wynic. "The 
brandy hasn't totally rotted your brain. Yet."
	"That's not a bad idea," said Nebonex, running beside Gisoni.
 He ignored Wynic.  "I could act as if I was in charge of Gisoni's body
 guards."
	"We'll go with that then," said Victoria, reaching into a pouch 
and pulling out the record from the city gate.  It occured to her that she
 was supposed to work today, but shrugged the thought away when 
she considered she'd probably get a promotion for what she was doing
 right now.  "The assassin is almost six feet tall, black hair, brown 
eyes, with a scar across his right cheek.  He's dressed like a mercenary,"
 she said.
	"We don't need to know that yet," Redhawk interrupted.  "We
 have to visit Queen Elexenia first."


		Getting inside the city was a simple matter of politics 
that Gisoni took care of.  Afterwards, Lieutenant-General Pollex and
 Sir Dillard, led the minotaurs and knights to the soldiers barracks, 
while  Gisoni and the companions were provided an escort of fifty 
Colnic Knights.  The knights wore very little armour because of the
 sweltering heat and the fact that the armour rusted quickly with a 
rainfall every six hours.  They carried more daggers than even Wynic
 and the traditional weapon was a scimitar.
	"Well, if it isn't Wynic Doxon," cried a  woman dressed in a 
beautiful fiery red gown, appearing between the huge doors to the 
royal palace as the companions entered the palace courtyard.
	"Elex!" cried Wynic, quickly dismounting. 
	 Queen Elexenia was barely over twenty years old, with long
 auburn hair reaching just past her shoulders.  She had a childish 
expression, dark red, pouty lips, light blue eyes and a charming if
 childish smile.  Her figure was slim and a good foot shorter than 
Victoria.  Running across the courtyard, the Queen embraced Wynic
 and kissed him onthe lips teasingly.
	Victoria looked away in distaste.
	"I'm sorry, Wynic, I forgot myself, I'm married now, and that
 was a long, long time ago," apologised Elex.  "Come on, I'll introduce
 you to him."  Victoria breathed a sigh of relief, when she heard the 
Queen was married.
	Letting Elex pull him by the hand, Wynic waved the rest to 
follow.


		
		"Wynic, this is my Prince Consort Lord Jacog." The
 Queen pointed at a tall man who Wynic barely recognised from his 
last visit to the palace.
	Your Champion?"  Wynic asked curiously.
	"Yes, that's the great thing about it, he can protect me even in
 bed now," sighed Elex.
	"Remind me to become a beautiful Queen's champion, Wynic,"
 whispered Redhawk.
	"Come," said Jacog.  "Lets go converse in the sitting room, I'm
 sure your exhausted, and it's about time to rain again."
	"Nebonex, I have the feeling Jacog runs the show around 
here," whispered Redhawk to the minotaur.
	"I think you're right," agreed the Prince.  "It's fairly obvious 
that she doesn't run the place, just lives off it.  In the true sense of what
 a Queen is, she isn't it."
	"Wynic," said Victoria, pulling the assassin aside.  "How do you
 know Queen Elexenia?"
	"In short, she's a spoiled rotten child.  She took a temper tantrum
 one day and ran away from the palace when she was sixteen, just before
 I met Redhawk which is probably how he heard of me. Any way, she
 tried to become a mercenary and probably could have done it, but I 
managed to convince her not to," answered Wynic. "It's a very complicated
 story as is she a complicated Queen."
	"Did you love her?"
	"Once, but that was six years ago, before I came to my senses
 and realised that she'd never grow up," he answered seriously.  "She 
doesn't have any responsibility and was spoiled as a child, permanently.
  She probably won't start to act mature for another twenty years.  I 
couldn't wait that long," Wynic explained, pulling Victoria closer. "Are
 you jealous?"
	"I almost was," smiled Victoria. "But not anymore," she said 
kissing him.



		"So why are you here?" asked Jacog, pouring a glass
 of Kinian Red for Redhawk. 
	The wine tasted unusual to Wynic, probably due to the heat 
and the wine had partially evaporated. "Read this," he said, setting 
down his glass and handing Jacog the letter from King Willium.
	"Oh, oh," said Jacog, setting the letter down.
	"What is it dear?" demanded Elex, jumping up and running 
over to pick up the letter.
	"Emperor Nebonex has been assassinated and the Empress 
might declare war on Arthian," Jacog shuddered at the thought of such
 a war.
	"Yeah, so what's it got to do with us?" pouted the Queen, 
jumping into Jacog's lap.
	"We have to send all our knights and our army to Athex," 
murmured Jacog, putting his arms around her.
	"Well, then, I'm going too!"
	"What?" cried everyone in unison. Redhawk nearly choked,
 but managed a "What?"
	"What's wrong?" she asked innocently.
	"You can't go, it's too dangerous," gagged Redhawk. 
	"Well if I stay here, my army won't be able to help Jacog  to
 protect me," pouted the Queen.  She crossed her arms and held her
 breath.
	"She's got us there," commented Victoria.
	"She's right," gasped Elex, standing up and pointing at Victoria
 in the face.  "I do got you!" she declared.
	"It does make some sense," muttered Jacog. "The city states 
on the west coast are contemplating civil war and even now there are
 rumours of rebellion here.  I've been considering hiring Wynic for 
some time now, just in case.  To leave for Athex would erase the danger
 of Elex being killed by rebels, and when the war with the Minotaur 
Empire is over with, we can always reclaim the city with just Kinian's
 aid."
	"Whatever," muttered Nebonex.  "I"m leaving you to the 
details.  Victoria hand him the description of the assassin.  We might
 get lucky and find him!"
	"Who are you to order me about?" demanded Jacog, standing
 up boldly.
	"Prince Nebonex, future Emperor of the Minotaur Empire," 
said the Prince, rising to his feet and looking down at Jacog.  Gisoni 
and the minotaur guards joined him, their presence seeming to fill up 
the small chamber.
	"Jacog sat back down quickly, full knowing what he had just
 done to be a very foolish act.  "Forgive me, Sire.  I knew not who 
you were."
	"Nothing wrong, at the moment we have the same status, 
really, you are a Prince Consort, one step down from King and I am
 one step down from Emperor," mumbled Nebonex, sitting down 
again.
	"Show him the record,Victoria," Redhawk said, pouring 
another glass of wine.
	Taking the record from the archeress, Jacog scanned it quickly,
 but shook his head.  Nebonex looked down somewhat defeated.
	"Gimme dat," cried Elex, ripping the record from Jacog's hand. 
 She started folding it into a parchment glider.
	"Give the record back to Victoria," said Jacog sternly.
	"I don't want to," pouted Elex.  "Hey," she shouted, jumping 
across the room and climbing into Nebonex's lap.  "I know this guy! 
 I bumped into him in a bar!  He looked a lot, a really, really lot like 
Wynic, except for the scar and the hair and all the wrinkles-"
	"What were you doing in a bar?  Outside the palace grounds?"
 interrupted Jacog angrily.
	"Oops!"
	"What was the bar called and where is it?" asked Nebonex 
impatiently, standing up to leave.
	"It's south of here.  It's called the Scorpion's Tail. Can I come
 too?"
	"No!"

Chapter Eight
		"Hello neighbor," said Wynic casually to the innkeeper
 of the Scorpion's Tail. The place wasn't half as bad as the ones Wynic
 remembered from growing up in Avolic; the innkeeper actually wiped
 the mugs with a filthy rag instead of just reusing them without wiping 
them.  "I'm looking for a carpenter.  He has black hair, brown eyes 
and a scar across his right cheek," he said, using the underground 
references to an assassin.  A cutthroat was an apprentice.  The assassin
 took out a shiny platinum coin and laid it on the rotting bar.
	The innkeeper stared at the coin, shrugged and pocketed the 
coin greedily.  "He's in the second door on the right out back." 
	"Lead the way," said Wynic, taking out another coin.
	"Yessar," slurred the greedy innkeep, pushing a busty barmaid
 out of his way.  He eyed the ten minotaurs, which flanked Wynic with
 suspicion, but eagerly led the way.  "Second door on the right," he 
pointed down the hallway next to the bar.
	Wynic tossed the innkeep the coin and the watched him 
disappear around the corner, and back into the barroom.  "Nebonex,
 stay out of sight, and control your temper.  Gisoni knock him 
unconscious if necessary," warned Wynic, without further 
communication he turned the knob, and walked calmly in.
	"Do you mind?  I'm busy," came the muffled voice 
underneath a pile of cotton sheets, and straw pillows. 
	"I want to hire you to kill Lord Blackaxe.  What's your usual 
fee?" lied Wynic, sitting down in a rickety chair.
	"Now you have my attention!  The fee is negotiable, but I insist 
on knowing the reason before accepting a job."
	"He's my elder brother, and I want the estate and army," replied
 Wynic, noticing an assortment of wine bottles in one corner.  "Do you 
mind if me and my men help ourselves to some wine?"
	"Go right ahead," said the man, his head emerging from beneath
 the cotton sheets.  Redhawk heard the faint rumbling in Wynic's chest 
and failed to look up at the man's face.
	"First things, first.  What's your name?" asked Wynic, the 
rumbling growing.
	"Pothax Doxon, sometimes called the Owl of the Underworld,
 elder half brother of Wynic Doxon himself," said the man, stepping out 
from beneath the covers, wearing a pair of dirty white pants, and two
 scimitars, one buckled on either side of his waist.
	The minotaurs weren't prepared to restrain Wynic, but
 Redhawk was.  He quickly grabbed hold of Wynic, and pinned his
 arms behind his back.
	Pothax jumped back defensively and drew both scimitars in
 a flash.
	"Let me kill the lying bastard," Wynic screamed at Redhawk, 
accompanied by vile threats and oaths.  "I'll rip his guts out, and drown
 him in it, with my bare hands!" roared Wynic, struggling and kicking at
 Redhawk.
	"Who hired you to kill the Emperor?" yelled Gisoni. The 
minotaurs cornering the assassin against the wall.
	"His brother Kobalix hired me," yelled Pothax, a low rumbling 
coming from his chest.  This time it was Nebonex who lost his temper 
and Gisoni followed Wynic's earlier instructions and knocked Nebonex
 unconscious with the pommel of longsword.
	Pothax reached behind him and pivoted a stone in the wall. 
 The wall slid away revealing an gloomy passageway.  "Com'on ye 
whore, lets go!" shouted Pothax, stepping quickly through the opening.
	A whore, her breasts bouncing against her chest, leapt out from
 under the cotton sheets and sprinted across the room to join her 
employer.  She drew a dirk from a sheath strapped to her thigh and 
sent it spinning end over end at Gisoni.  The huge minotaur knocked 
the blade away with ease.
	"Brother!" screamed Wynic, finally breaking free from 
Redhawk.  He ran across the room only to slam into a brick wall. 
 Scrambling, he found the pivot rock and regained his composure. 
 "Gisoni, carry Nebonex.  Com'on, we have to catch him," he 
shouted to the minotaurs, drawing his sword as the wall slid open. 
	Gisoni glanced, unsure, at Redhawk.  He didn't say anything, 
but his face showed his true feelings now.  He was scared.
	"Let's go," shouted Redhawk, hurrying after Wynic.  The 
minotaurs followed a bit uncertain, but eager to catch the Emperor's 
assassin.
	Victoria followed tentatively.  She hadn't seen this side of 
Wynic, she had only heard what Wynic had told her of his wrath.  She 
wasn't ready for this side of the assassin and didn't know what to think 
of it.
	Wynic followed the dimly lit corridor, a million thoughts racing 
through his mind.  A brother? He ran around a corner only to be 
punched so hard he fell onto his back, pain thrumming dully through his
 torso.
	What Pothax hadn't expected was that Wynic reached out in
 midfall, caught the cutthroat's arm and pulled out a dagger. Once 
recovering from the shock of his fall, in a move so intricate, Wynic 
quickly pinned Pothax to the floor with the dagger poised across his
 throat.
	"Wynic don't!" yelled Victoria, running up to them with 
Redhawk at her heals.
	"I'm not going to!"
	"Pothax," said Redhawk, crossing his arms in the symbol of
 authority.  "You're coming with us and we're going to determine your
 involvement in this."
	"Why don't you just run me through?" snarled Pothax boldly, 
making an effort to break free of Wynic's grip.
	"Because we need to know who hired you, and why," replied
 Redhawk, taking Pothax's scimitars.  "You," he shouted, pointing at 
one of the minotaurs.  "Go back, search the room and bring back all 
the coins and weapons you can find."
	The minotaur nodded and left.
	"Okay, Pothax, you better tell us everything you know if you
 want us to let you live," spat Wynic.  His grip on the dagger turned 
his knuckles white.
	"You bastard!" swore Pothax viciously.
	"That makes two of us!"
	Pothax looked up, utterly confused.


		"Our father was quite a charmer when it came to 
ladies," Pothax explained, more to himself than to Victoria or Redhawk.
  He looked away from Wynic.  "He seduced my mother with promises
 of marriage, but later left and returned fours years later to take me from
 her.  I was sold into slavery, as was the custom forty-some years ago 
for bastard sons, or daughters for that matter.  I was released from my
 owner during one of the slave protests though I probably would have 
lived better out sweating in the desert than living in the rotting slums of 
Avolic.  My life as a cutthroat was pitiful, until I heard of you, Wynic, 
and since took up the occupation, though I'm a fair bit less experienced
 in the occupation. Probably since there are very few opportunities for
 a good assassin."
	Wynic nodded.  "There still aren't!" He glanced unseeing about 
the soldiers barracks, which was a crude wooden building built near the
 city walls. The building was so long that Wynic couldn't see either end
 of it.  The bunks were lined up along the wall,with the horse stalls and 
firepits in the center.  The whole place stank of manure, which made 
Wynic glad he was staying in the nearby inn with Victoria.
	"True. I tried, but I was always refused, because most thought
 I was making it up, while others really didn't care as long as I lived up
 to the name," grumbled Pothax, tugging on the chain that bound him 
by hand and foot.  "How'd you get born?" he asked, giving up.
	"Same way. Except slavery was abolished and he didn't 
abandon me, instead he tortured me," replied Wynic numbly, staring at 
the fire Gisoni had started.  He wondered if the lies his father had told 
his mother were the exact same lies he'd told Pothax's.
	"I wonder where he is now," murmured Pothax, looking  up at
 Wynic silently.
	"I left his body in a slum in Jaton," said Wynic slowly.
	"What? You killed him? How?"
	"A sword through the heart always works.  I just wish it had 
been more painful," the assassin mumbled, kicking at a rock.
	"You won't say that if you ever get one there!" remarked 
Victoria, sitting down beside Wynic.  She rubbed his back soothingly.
	"I see we've both inherited our father's good and bad talents.  
Our roaring fury, good looks, skill strength, our ability to never panic 
and our taste for charming and beautiful women.  What else do we 
have in common?" noted Pothax, leaning back against the wall.
	"He's not afraid of heights.  That's for certain," commented 
Redhawk.
	A groan startled the knight and he looked behind him at 
Nebonex.  "Oh, my head," he rasped, putting a hand up to his head
 and touching the tender spot between his horns.
	"I told you to control your temper," said Wynic, standing 
and walking over to help the huge minotaur to his feet.
	"You're one to talk!" grumbled the Prince, glaring at Wynic
 as he stood up, a bit wobbly like a new born calf.  Victoria noted 
the irony of saying this about a minotaur and wondered if minotaurs
 were born knowing how to walk, just like a calf.
	"Okay," said Gisoni. "Now that Nebonex s awake, let's get 
back to business.  Who hired you and why?" he asked, turning to face
 Pothax.
	"Kobalix hired me," said Pothax, ignoring Nebonex's grumbling.
  "He also hired the assassin to kill Prince Nebonex and another to 
assassinate Empress Gweneleque.  He has his heart set upon the 
Imperial Throne and the conquering of all the western continent, 
which I truly doubt he can manage."
	"He could too!  All he would have to do is have all the royalty 
of the western Kingdom's assassinated.  The kingdoms would collapse 
into chaos and the Minotaur Army would march in, unopposed, they 
could do whatever they wished," explained Nebonex, leaning dizzily
 on Wynic.
	"So, now what?" asked Pothax.  His eyes were wide and he 
looked to the hanging post near a water barrel used for hanging traitors.
  He swallowed the lump in his throat.
	"We take those chains off you and you move onto my estate
 for the time being.," replied Wynic to the combined shock of Pothax 
and Nebonex's ears.  "I've always wanted a brother anyway."
	"Same here, but I didn't believe you were even real when I
 first heard of you.  It sounded too far-fetched!" Pothax agreed, 
holding out his hands eagerly.
	Gisoni took the keys from a peg on the wall and started at 
the locks.
	"What?" cried Nebonex.
	"We all know who's really behind this now.  Pothax didn't 
enjoy killing your father!  No man I've ever known enjoys stabbing 
someone in the back.  It was a job and he treated it as such, he 
probably would have preferred killing a slave lord," Victoria explained.
	"That's fer sure," slurred Pothax.  "I'd torture the bastard first
 though, by his own whip if I could!"
	"But slaving has been banned!" argued Nebonex.
	"So?" asked Redhawk.  "What does that have to do with it?"
	"Let's put it this way.  Who would you rather have hanged for
 your father's death? The hired man, or Kobalix, the same person who
 sent an assassin after you and your mother?" asked Gisoni, turning the
 key and releasing Pothax from the last of his chains.  "And don't argue
 about proof, cause I've seen how Kobalix watches your father when
 he sits in the Throne.  To say that he's madly jealous would probably 
be an understatement!"
	Pothax stood up thankfully and stretched aching muscles.  The 
sense of relief on his face was more than enough to show to Wynic that
 this man had indeed been a slave.  The scars on his back was ample 
proof.  Wynic possessed similar scars though they'd come from his 
own father.
	"I suppose you're right.  In a realer sense it was Kobalix that
 killed him," agreed Nebonex, himself reminded of an obscure 
comment Kobalix had once made about the Throne.  "But I still believe
 we need more proof.  Wait!  Didn't I hear you say he also sent an 
assassin after my mother?" he demanded.
	"Yes, but I haven't heard any news about that yet," replied 
Pothax, picking up his scimitars.
	"Well, then, if we do receive news of at least an assassination
 attempt, we've got our proof!" Nebonex explained triumphantly.
	"Hey!" Pothax accused Redhawk. "You polished my scimitars?"
	"I was going to sell them and buy a keg of Kinian Brandy," 
muttered Redhawk.

Chapter Nine
		Empress Gweneleque was a proud, strong minotauress. 
 She ruled with wisdom and compassion.  So much that both the 
humans and minotaurs living under her reign, would gladly give up their 
life for the sake of the Queen.  She was usually a very busy woman,
 but today something seemed wrong.  It had nothing to do with the 
recent assassination attempt.  It was just everything seemed perfect,
 as if nothing could possibly go wrong.  It felt like the calm before a 
storm.  Looking out the baroque window, Gwen silently nursed her 
son and brooded.
	"Empress?" asked the nanny, entering the room hesitantly.
	"What is it, Marigathos?" replied Gwen, shifting in her chair to
 look at the nanny.  She noted briefly how pale the minotaur was though
 only a minotaur could tell.
	"Empress, a messenger, from Athex, has arrived.  I've been 
told that..." the nanny failed to continue and burst into tears.  She 
wailed something about Nebonex, but Gwen couldn't understand a 
single word of the rest, so distraught the nanny was.
	"What's wrong?" asked Gwen, rushing to the nanny's aid.
	"Best that you have the messenger tell you," sobbed the nanny. 
 She pulled out a handkerchief and snorted noisily.
	"Here, take Robarthars," said Gwen, handing Mari the infant
 minotaur.  A sense of dread caused the Empress to momentarily panic,
 but calmed herself by telling herself everything would be fine.
	


		"Empress, if I may plainly.  Your husband is dead.  
He was found by your son and a human servant.  It has been suggested 
that since there was an assassination attempt on both your son and 
husband earlier at their arrival, that his death was probably an 
assassination.  It is hard to tell though, since he clearly fell out a window,
 but he could have been pushed," explained the messenger, shamefully 
blinking back tears.
	"You may go," said Gwen, too stunned to even cry.
	"Gweneleque," cried Kobalix, a huge towering minotaur, 
bursting through the doors, knocking them off their hinges.  His ringed 
nose foamed as he snorted angrily.  He ignored the sound of the doors 
clattering to the marble floor of the throne room, and quickly crossed
 the great chamber, shoving the messenger out of his way.  "I just heard
 from a servant!  Is it true?" cried Kobalix, sitting down beside her in
 the Emperor's seat.
	"Nebonex was murdered," murmured  Gwen still too stunned
 to cry.
	Kobalix suddenly stood and kicked over the throne, where his
 brother had so recently sat.  Shouting violent threats at it, Kobalix 
turned to Gwen.  "Give me command of the Minotaur Army and I'll 
find the bastard that killed him.  Even if I have to start a damned war 
to get at him," he shouted at her viciously.
	"No!" cried Gwen, standing up and pushing the huge minotaur
 back.  "This is my war!"



		"I need to speak with the Lord-Marshall," said Gwen,
 barging into the military affairs office.  She looked around venomously, 
her nose foaming angrily.
	"His Lordship is busy.  You'll have to wait, Empress," said a
 brigadier, standing up to assist her.  He knew that such an excuse 
was futile, but it was also procedure and as such was expected to be
 followed in all circumstances.
	"I said I need to speak with him," repeated Gwen, taking out
 a dagger and waving it threatening at the brigadier.
	"I'll go bring him," said the brigadier.  He turned on a heel and
 marched away.
	Gwen waited impatiently and listened.
	"Leave me 'lone!  I'm trying ta sleep!" said a voice, sounding
 like a mix between a drunken slur and metal scraping on stone.
	"Sir, it's the Empress!"
	By now Gwen had lost what little patience she had and kicked 
down the door and walked into the Lord-Marshall's office.
	"What da Hell?" cried the somewhat plump minotaur jumping 
to his feet.
	"Contact the Lord-Admiral," snorted Gwen, her huge hands 
snaking out and lifting the Lord-Marshall off his feet by his neck.  "I'm
 declaring war on Arthian and I want to lay siege on Athex within the
 next two weeks.  Our army leaves tomorrow.  I'm leaving you to the
 details," she said, releasing the Lord-Marshall and exiting the office.
	"You really hab ta study her, Mathex.  You could learn a lot
 about just giving orders from her," commented the gasping 
Lord-Marshall, watching the Empress leave.
	"Yes, Atreneth, we could all learn a lot from her," commented
 the brigadier.



		"Athex is a famous stronghold," protested Damoti, 
Atreneth's  Lieutenant Field Marshall.  "There's no way we could 
capture it without several years of war."  He snorted and shook his 
bull head.
	"Dat's why I propose we try an alternate route," said Atreneth 
calmly.
	"And what's your alternate route?" demanded Damoti, 
pounding a huge fist on the table, cracking the wood.
	"Calm yerself, Damoti," said Atreneth.  "Come.  Let's go to
 the map room, I'll explain it to you there," he said, rising from his seat.
	Damoti grumbled and followed.
	Leading the way down the corridor, Atreneth finally stopped 
at the map room and opened the door.  It creaked, causing the hair on
 the back of Damoti's neck to stand up.
	The map room was round and almost ten rods across.  The 
floor was a beautiful mosaic depicting a map of the known world.  
The domed ceiling was also a mosaic depicting the constellations.  
This room was one of the great engineering marvels of the world, much 
like the walls of Athex and the Avolica Colosseum.
	"Mathex," said Atreneth. "You're still not done?" he asked as 
he entered the room and spotted the brigadier.
	"I had problems finding this many Vodka bottles," answered
 Mathex, swaying slightly.  He smiled foolishly.
	"Oh."
	"What's going on here?" demanded Damoti bewildered.  He
 looked around the enormous chamber, studying all the Vodka bottles,
 kegs  and a huge barrel where the City of Athex would be.
	"I had Mathex place an empty bottle on every castle, a keg on 
every keep, and a barrel for every city.  Which is Athex, the only one
 we need to be worried about," explained Atreneth, unsheathing his 
longsword.
	Damoti nodded, slowly beginning to understand.
	"Okay, let's say, I'm the Minotaur Army," said Atreneth, 
walking over to the Vormian Delta.  "We land here at the Vormian 
Delta and attack Castle Deltex," he said, bringing his sword down on
 the bottle standing at the Vormian Delta.
	The bottle shattered into a million pieces.
	"From the Delta we will travel up the Vormian river and destroy 
any fortresses that are in our way, this will work to provide food for the
 army and give the troops practice at laying a siege," said Atreneth,
 swinging his sword in a wide arc, destroying all the bottles in it's path.
  "Once we reach Arthian we will branch out into legions led by 
brigadier's with orders to rendezvous at Athex," explained Atreneth.  
"The brigadiers will destroy all the remaining fortresses."
	Mathex started to destroy all the bottles and kegs standing in
 the area marked as Arthian.
	"Athex would have by now closed the gates to their city and 
start rationing food," said Atreneth, raising his sword.  "With no supplies 
going into Athex, we can test their strengths and weaknesses and build 
catapults for a few months," he explained, bringing his sword down on 
the wine barrel.  The barrel splintered all the way down the one side, 
shuddered and collapsed.
	"It's going to take a lot more than catapults to even dent the 
Great Walls of Athex.  It's the only city that survived the Last 
Vormian Dynasty," protested Damoti, kicking at the remains of the 
shattered barrel.
	"So we'll build mangonels," shrugged Atreneth.
	"Sir," said Mathex.  "Even the half ton boulders a mangonel 
could throw would barely put a dint in a wall that's thirty feet thick!"
	"I intend to imploy Black Dirt," said Atreneth.  "That will put 
a breach in their walls."
	"Black Dirt's been forbidden for almost three millennia!  You
 can't use it just because you feel like it!" Mathex protested.
	"If I get the Empresses permission I can!" Atreneth replied.



		"Absolutely not," Gwen replied, struggling to control her 
anger.
	"But Empress, we'll be able ta save many minotaurs, using Black 
Dirt," protested Atreneth, standing up and sucking in his huge gut.
	"I forbid it.  I won't have the western kingdoms saying that I 
brought back the way of the Last Vormian Dynasty," ordered Gwen.
	"But-"
	"Perhaps I should remind you of what happened the last time
 someone used it," asked Gwen, leaning forward.  "Over a million 
people killed, the greatest city ever to exist blown sky high.  All because
 several wagon loads of Black Dirt caught on fire!"
	"Atreneth," said Kobalix.  "What's wrong with normal strategies?
  If you can't use catapults against the walls of Athex effectively, then 
what's wrong with assault towers?" he asked, puzzled.
	"I'm afraid we can't build da towers big enough.  Since Athex's 
walls are so tall, we'd have ta build the towers just as tall, however dat
 would mean they could be easily toppled and wouldn't serve a good
 offense.  We could widen the base to prevent toppling but it would 
end up being too big ta move," replied Atreneth, standing up to leave.
	"Empress, Lord Kobalix?" asked Mathex, appearing at the
 door to the throne room.
	"You were looking for me?" asked Atreneth.
	"Sort of, Sir.  I was passing by and overheard your 
conversation, and I remembered a weapon I was taught about in my
 training at the Academy," explained Mathex, walking tentatively 
forward a couple paces.
	"Continue," prompted Gweneleque, truly interested in any idea 
offered.
	"It's a very common western style weapon, originating in 
Colnic, called a crossbow, which shoots a bolt that can penetrate the
 thickest of armour.  Perhaps we could build a giant version of a 
crossbow that could penetrate even Mighty Athex's walls?" the young 
brigadier suggested, looking uncomfortable before the Empress.
	"Your idea has merit," replied Gwen.  "Atreneth, remove any 
duties you have placed upon the brigadier and resign him to the task 
of designing a giant crossbow."
	Kobalix looked at Atreneth, noting the Marshall's jaw go 
slack with surprise.  "But, Empress-" Atreneth stammered.
	"But what?" asked Gwen, looking at the Marshall closely.  
"Atreneth, I'm tired of your selfish, stubborn and lazy attitude!  If you
 don't change, I'll replace you!" she said, a steely glint in her eye 
flashing dangerously.
	"Yes, Empress."
	"Kobalix, Mathex, Atreneth," she said.  "You are all dismissed."



		Kobalix slammed the door to his chamber, and swore
 profanities at the wall.  Spotting an ancient, faded vase belonging to 
his wife, he drew his sword.  The vase was an antique from before the
 First Vormian Dynasty, one of the few to survive the Fall.  Kobalix 
hated the vase and had been trying to come up with an excuse to rid 
himself of it.  He raised his sword high over his head and threw it
 across the room.
	The vase shattered into a billion pieces and the sword's blade
 broke as it clanged against the carved quartz wall.
	"Damn you, Wynic Doxon, and damn you Gweneleque," he 
spat. "Now I have to send more assassins."



		"Empress, Lord Kobalix has been attacked," cried a
 servant, rushing into the nursery, where Gweneleque was nursing 
Robarthars.
	"What?" asked Gwen, rising from her chair.
	"The assassin came in through the window when he wasn't 
looking," the servant explained.
	"Is he okay?"
	"He says he's fine, but the assassin got away.  The only 
damage done was a broken vase.
	"Oh," she mumbled.

Chapter Ten
		"I wish to speak with Queen Helen," said the cloaked
 knight.
	"You'll have to wait, Sir Knight.  She's in her bedchambers," 
replied the guard, eyeing him suspiciosly.
	"She'll see me," said the knight, pulling back his hood and 
revealing a finely trimmed blackbeard, bushy black eyebrows and
 steely gray eyes.
	"Lord Blackaxe," cowered the guard.  "Terribly sorry, Sir- 
Milord, I didn't know it was you!"
	"It happens."
	"Here let me get the door," said the guard, hastily opening the
 doors.
	Blackaxe entered the chamber and noted several changes to 
the room.  The Queen of Stornium's chambers were extravagantly
 furnished, with soft velvet carpet, and white marble walls.  The ceiling 
was painted black, which made the room look larger and more 
contrasting in colour.  The canopy bed was raised off the floor with 
steps going up to it.  A door on either side of the room branched out
 into the antechambers, one for the Queen's famous wardrobe, the 
other for an empty nursery.
	"Helen?" called Blackaxe.
	"In the nursery," called the Queen.
	Blackaxe walked to the door to the nursery and looked inside.  
"Still wishing for a proper husband?" he asked, spying her sitting 
dreamily in a rockingchair.
	Helen looked up.  She seemed somewhat fragile, but perhaps 
that was a side effect of her incredible beauty.  She had dark green 
eyes that flashed curiously and as was the trait of Storniums, long 
blond hair, only it was silky and darker than most.  It cascaded over 
small shoulders, down a thin back and ended up about her waist.  "Yes," 
she answered.
	"There aren't that many romantic men out there and a romantic
 knight, that isn't married already is even more rare," he said, sitting 
down in a soft velvet chair beside her.
	"I don't want to be swept off my feet like in a fairy tale!  I just 
want to be held and truly loved," sighed Helen, leaning her cheek on
 her arm and looking out the window.
	"And a child to keep you busy, would be a good idea too," said
 Blackaxe, glancing around at the empty nursery.
	"So," she said, looking up.  "What brings you here?" she asked 
cheerfully.
	"King Willium asked me to carry a message to you," Blackaxe
 answered.
	"Okay, what's old fuddy-duddy got to say?" the Queen asked.
	Blackaxe explained the situation in Athex and Helen listened 
carefully.  She shrugged.  "So, I'll send half of my army there to assist.  
So what's new with you?" she asked, curious.
	Blackaxe shook his head and looked up at her.
	"What?" Helen asked, checking to see if her hair was falling out. 
 She grinned mockingly at him.
	"You could declare war on God without a second thought, as if 
you didn't care if you won or not," replied Blackaxe, looking away, 
trying not to laugh.
	"So, what's wrong with that?" she asked with a crooked grin.
	"Nothing I guess, except you'd lose a lot of men."
	"Perhaps, in a sense I'm like Queen Elexenia, but the difference
 is that I saw no other alternative and accepted what must be and quit 
worrying about it.  Elexenia wouldn't care, Willium would worry until he 
got an ulser and King Sear would find it a challenge.  I'm probably the 
most sensible of the western Monarchs!" she explained, more to herself 
than to Blackaxe.  "So what's new with you?" she repeated, lounging 
back in her chair.
	"I'm still looking for the Swathick Axe if that's what you mean?"
 he said, a distant look coming over his face.
	"Of course that's what I meant," sighed Helen.  "Recite the poem
 to me, bad lyrics and all!"
	"I've told it to you a hundred times, why tell it again?" he asked, 
glancing at her.
	So?"
	Blackaxe began to recite the poem, that had captured his heart 
the first time he heard it.  His harsh baritone voice becoming softer as 
he recited the poem that had become an obsession,
From before the dawn,
It was forged
Of dragonbreath,
And Godsteel.

Strong and sharp,
But the forger was carefree!
Too strong, too sharp!
It was light and shiny.
Too light, too shiny!

So strong a god couldn't chip it!
So sharp it could cleave the world!

As light as feather.
As shiny as stars.
Valued it was,
Deadly it was.

The Axe was idolled,
thus,
Swathick it was,
Too deadly!

Lost it is now.
At the bottom of Bone Sea.
Waiting to emerge.
To kill!

	Blackaxe finished off with a sigh of longing.
	"It still doesn't rhyme," noted Helen.
	That's what you always say!" Blackaxe replied, standing up.
	"Why would you want it?  It's probably rusted after being at 
the bottom of Bone Sea for over three thousand years," asked the 
Queen, standing up and stretching.
	"I told you before, it's something I feel I am destined to add to
 my collection," sighed Blackaxe, looking back at her from the door.
	"Am I destined to never find my companion?" Helen asked 
herself silently.
	"No," said Blackaxe, looking at her, concerned.  "You'll find him,
 I promise you!" he vowed, as he turned and left.
	"Come again!" Helen called, but he was already gone.  Silently
 she turned and looked out across her capitol city of Glist, to the deep
 blue waters of Bone Sea.  She was looking for someone to love her.



		"You're drunk," said Pothax, buttoning up his new shirt.  
Victoria had helped him buy to make him more presentable before 
Queen Elexenia.
	"So?" giggled Redhawk, stumbling over to the door to the 
barracks.  He belched loudly and giggled.
	"We've got to sober him up before Elexenia and Jacog get here,"
 noted Wynic, glancing at Pothax and Dillard.
	"Let's dump him in the water barrel," suggested Pothax.
	"That usually works," agreed Dillard.  "Grab his feet, I'll take 
his arms," he said, walking up behind Redhawk and seized the knight 
by the wrists.
	"Hey-hiccup-wha'cha doin'?"asked Redhawk in his drink 
slurred voice as Wynic and Pothax each grabbed a foot.  He struggled 
weakly to free himself, giggling the entire time.  "Tanks fer da ride guys, 
but my legs aren't broken, I can still walk, ye knowk?" he protested.
	"Shut up Redhawk," muttered Dillard, lifting Redhawk over the
 water barrel.  "Stuff his feet in the barrel," he ordered, straining under 
the huge knight's bulk.
	Wynic and Pothax shoved Redhawk's feet in the barrel and 
ignored Redhawk's burst of insults, and his screaming of, "Dat's cold!"
	After dunking his head under the freezing water a couple of 
times, Redhawk sobered up enough to try and apologise for his insults,
 but Dillard dunked his head under again for calling him a fat, ugly 
Arthian Knight who sleeps with even fatter, and twice as ugly women.
	"What's going on?" asked Victoria, walking over to stand 
beside Wynic.
	"Redhawk's drunk and we're having a contest to see who can
 sober him up the fastest," explained the assassin as Dillard dunked the
 knight's head under again for emphasis.
	"Okay," she grinned. "Come on, let's go for a walk," she said, 
taking Wynic's hand.
	Wynic waved to Pothax and Dillard, who were already arguing
 over who gets to dunk the knight, and followed the archeress.



		Victoria and Wynic sat down on a bench near a couple
 knights playing cards.  Ignoring the splinters, Wynic unsheathed Gith's 
sword and began sharpening it with a whetstone.
	"Why did we have to wait two days for their army to assemble?"
 asked Victoria, leaning on Wynic's arm.
	"You'd have to ask Gisoni or Dillard.  I don't know nuch about 
armies, and how you move one.  I imagine their having problems finding
 enough horses to carry a hundred thousand men," smiled Wynic, 
looking up at Victoria.
	"I thought there was only thirty thousand knights," she said.
	"You're forgetting the Colnic Army," replied Wynic, looking at 
the archeress.
	"Oh."
	"You wanted to talk to me.  What is it you want to say?" asked
 Wynic, taking a cloth out of his pocket.
	Victoria mumbled something.
	"What?" asked Wynic.
	"Nothing," she mumbled.
	"Hey, you," Wynic yelled to one of the knights.
	"Me?" asked a young knight, standing up.
	"Can I borrow your waterskin?  I need to polish my sword," 
explained Wynic, gesturing to Gith's sword.
	"You don't deserve a sword like that," sneered the young Colnic
 to the cheers of his comrades.
	"Why not?" asked Wynic, his chest rumbling silently.
	"Wynic don't," whispered Victoria, cautiously.
	"You probably stole it," sneered the knight.  "You don't dress 
like you're rich enough to buy it."  Wynic looked down at his roadworn 
tunic, pants, scuffed riding boots and placed a hand on his shortsword.
	"Wynic don't!" said Victoria, louder this time.
	"What's wrong, bitch?" said the knight, drawing his sword.
	Wynic roared his battlecry and drew his shortsword.  
	Victoria spun on her heal and looked desperately for Redhawk,
 the only one who she knew could possibly control Wynic's fearsome
 temper.  The three men were standing beside the waterbarrel so far 
away Victoria could barely see them.  "Redhawk!" she shouted.  "Come 
quick, it's Wynic!"
	Redhawk turned on still wobbly legs and was running in a 
second.  Pothax and Dillard right behind him, drew their swords.
	She turned back to the fight, and realised she had forgotten 
to buckle on a sword earlier.  Looking about frantically, she saw Gith's 
sword leaning against the bench.  Grabbing the hilt, she tried to hamper
 the two combatants.
	"Stay out of the way, Victoria," growled Wynic, parrying away
 the knight's sword.
	Redhawk arrived, reached around Wynic and grabbed 
Wynic's swordarm.  Sweeping his leg under the assassin, he brought 
Wynic down and pinned him to the ground under an armoured knee.
	"Let me at em, I'll kill em!" growled Wynic, struggling under 
Redhawk's huge form.
	"Wynic, it's okay.  The knight's not worth it," said Victoria, 
kneeling beside the struggling assassin.  He glared at her and his anger
 slowly subsided.
	"If I let you up, do you promise not to rip my moustaches out,"
 asked Redhawk.
	Wynic grinned.  "I didn't mean it," he replied.
	"Then, I guess, I should get up and change my muddy clothes,"
 muttered Redhawk, rolling over and standing up.
	Wynic sat up and glanced at Victoria strangely.  "I need to be
 alone," he mumbled.
	"I'll be waiting," she whispered as she kissed him.

Chapter 11
		"How much?" asked Wynic, pointing at an emerald
 studded ring with rose shaped rubies and crafted gold maple leaves 
twined around a simple silver band.
	"Fifty silver," replied the jeweler.
	"How about seven platinum?" asked the red-haired assassin.
	"Seven platinum will do," said the greedy jeweler, rubbing 
pudgy hands together.  Taking the precious ring from underneath the
 glass case he handed it over in exchange for seven shiny platinum coins.
	Taking a piece of twine, Wynic put it through the ring and tied 
the two ends together.  Putting the crude necklace around his neck, 
Wynic carefully hid it underneath his tunic.


		"What's taking Wynic so long?" asked Nebonex, 
marching impatiently.
	"I don't know, Sire," said General Gisoni, watching Nebonex 
pacing with a worried expression.
	Someone waved at Redhawk though the knight barely saw it 
amidst all the minotaurs, knights and soldiers.  He mounted his horse 
and looked around, ignoring Nebonex's muttering.
	"I thought I saw him too," said Victoria, mounting her horse.
	"There he is!" said Redhawk to Victoria, pointing.
	Wynic shook his head at them and held a finger to his lips.  He 
then disappeared back into the crowd of people.  Appearing behind 
Nebonex, he made a face of ridiculous worriedness.
	Nebonex kept on pacing as Wynic walked so silently right 
behind him.
	"Don't tell him, Gisoni," whispered Redhawk in the General's ear.
	"I won't," replied Gisoni, looking away and biting his tongue to
 keep from laughing.
	"Where is he?" demanded Nebonex.
	"Where's who?" asked Wynic, imitating Redhawk's Kinian 
accent.
	"Wynic of course!" said Nebonex, spinning about and nearly 
trampling the assassin.  "What the hell?  Wynic where have you been?"
 he asked startled.
	"Right here.  Where have you been?" asked Wynic.
	"I-I was here," stammered Nebonex confused.
	Redhawk couldn't help it and burst out laughing.  Victoria and 
Gisoni quickly joining the soon hysterical knight.  The three were still 
laughing when Elexenia's carriage rolled up beside them.
	"Were ready to depart Nebonex," said Jacog, sticking his 
head out of the carriage window.
	"Ah, okay," said Nebonex, ignoring his companions.  "Gisoni 
give the order to move out."
	The laughing minotaur nodded and closed his eyes to calm
 himself.  "Move out," he ordered loudly before going back to laughing.



		"Captain, there appears to be a fleet out in the harbour," 
said Lieutenant Rades, pointing out towards the harbour of Deltex.
	"Where?" asked Captain Sathic, looking out at the harbour.
	"In the harbour, Captain," repeated Rades.
	"Don't be a smart ass, Rades!  Where?" demanded Sathic, 
ignoring the chuckles of his fellow soldiers.
	"A couple leagues out from the eastern point," replied Rades.
	"Hmm," mumbled Sathic.  "You, go confirm this and report back 
immediately," he said, pointing at a soldier.  The soldier snapped to 
attention, and hurried off to carry out Sathic's orders.
	  A few minutes later the soldier returned to report.  "Minotaur
 fleet...about a league south of the eastern point by now...moving very 
rapidly," gasped the soldier and fell back into line with the rest of the 
soldiers.
	"Rades, go inform his lordship.  I'll go report to the colonel," 
ordered Sathic, saluting and marching off, leaving command to the
 second lieutenant.
	Rades made a mock salute to his soldiers and marched 
backwards away.
	The soldiers laughed heartily.  Few would ever laugh again.



		"Hiya, Bilt," said Rades casually.  "I need to speak 
with his High and Mighty Lordship.  The guard grinned and led the way.
	"Watch this," whispered the lieutenant as he passed through the 
doorway and into the dining hall.
	The hall was adorned much like a hunting shack is.  Trophies
 lining the walls and a huge blazing fireplace at the one end.  Lord Staves
 sat at the end of a huge Arthian Oak table, nearest the fireplace. The
 throne-like seat that Lord Staves sat in was placed there so that the
 fire would make it look as if he had a halo.  Rades thought it made his 
head look on fire.
	"Vat da ya vant?" asked the drunken lord.
	"Oh, High and Mighty Lordship," cried Rades, falling to on the 
hard granite floor and groveling.  He ignored Bilt out in the hallway 
laughing.  "Mighty Staves," groveled Rades.  "The Minotaur Fleet doth 
approach'd as we speak, alas, what shall we do?  Help us Mighty 
Staves!" Rades cried in mock anguish.
	Staves blinked several times, trying to think through the haze 
of alcohol.  "Umm, I'lp tack car of it.  Tack da sem message to me 
vife," said Staves slowly, thinking over every word.
	"Yes, oh, Great Lordship," genuflected Rades, with agonizing 
slowness.  Piece of cack as Staves would say," said Rades as soon 
as the door closed behind him.
	"How'd you keep a straight face in front of that ass?" Bilt 
asked.
	"I imagine the penalty for laughing in his Mighty Lordships 
face," smiled Rades.
	"Bilt grinned back and shook his head.



		"Oh, dear," said the middle-aged Lady Staves.
	"What is it, Lady?" asked Rades, serious for once.
	"I just received a message that the Minotaur Empire might 
declare war on Athex," said the Lady, standing up and pacing.
	"Why?"
	"Apparently Emporer Nebonex was assassinated two weeks 
ago and the blame was placed on Athex.  The Empress has been 
known for her temper," explained the Lady, chewing on a fingernail 
nervously.
	"Is that bad for us?" asked Rades, standing up and pacing 
beside her.
	"Stornium is allied with Arthian, so if the Minotaur fleet 
appears here on their way to Athex, I'd wager they're not here to 
join us for tea," she explained.
	"Huh?"
	"They're gonna slaughter us stupid!" she shouted.
	"Oh!"
	"Have you ever been to Athex?" she asked suddenly, turning 
towards him
	"Yes, but-"
	"Go to King Willium as quick as you can and inform him that
 the Minotaur Army has arrived here.  Warn all the estates along the
 way," she ordered.
	"Yes," obeyed Rades and leaving immediately.  It never
 occurred to him that he might never again see Athex.



		The minotaurs stormed up the beach towards Castle 
Deltex in groups of threes and fours.  The castle had closed its gates
 as soon as the first ship had landed and now the ramparts were 
crowded with soldiers and volunteer fighters. 
	"Okay men, we are Stornium!  We are the finest fighting men
 in the world!" shouted the Colonel.  "Whether you die in this battle 
does not matter, but that you die defending your country, your home,
 your family.  No bunch of cows are going to drive you away!"
	Sathic tried to listen, but all he could do is watch the minotaurs 
stampede across the sand, turning up the ground like some god-like 
plow.  The noise was like growing thunder, until Sathic could no longer
 hear the Colonel.
	Blood spurted out of Sathic's mouth and he stared down at 
the crossbow bolt imbedded in his chest. Everything went black.



		Wynic had tried several times to ask Victoria the 
question, but he kept stalling hoping for a better time.  Now they 
were riding down hill towards Athex, and he still hadn't asked her to
 marry him.  The Great Walls of Athex loomed ahead and Wynic was
 still wondering how to ask her.  He certainly couldn't just make a 
comment about the weather and suddenly pop the question.
	"Wynic," yelled Dillard, riding up beside him.  "Were all 
supposed to meet in the palace dining hall.  Then we can go over the 
defense of the city," he explained.
	Wynic nodded, abhorring the thought of politics.
	"Com'on. Victoria wants to talk to you," said Dillard, spurring 
his horse ahead.
	Wynic spurred his horse and followed.



		"You've been avoiding me!" accused Victoria as soon
 as she was sure no one else could hear.
	"I have?  I'm sorry," replied Wynic, leaning forward and kissing
 her.  In truth he had been avoiding her, finding that he couldn't think
 straight when she was near.
	"Let's ride ahead and surprise King Willium," suggested Victoria, 
spurring her horse to a gallop.  Wynic followed thoughtfully.



		"And who are you?" asked Victoria, bending over to 
speak with a little girl who was sitting in the palace gardens quietly
 playing with dolls.
	"I'm a beautiful princess," replied the girl with a grin. She stood
 and looked Victoria over carefully, especially Victoria's warhorse.
	"Really?" asked Victoria.  "And what's your name?" she asked
 as she dismounted.
	"Princess Darylinn, the most beautiful daughter of King Willium," 
said the girl with a curtsey and pointing over at where King Willium, 
Gith and Wynic sat talking.
	"Wow, it must be pretty neat being a Real Princess," said 
Victoria, kneeling down so she was at eye level with the Princess.
	"Yup!"
	"Have you ever ridden a horse?" asked Victoria.
	"Yes, I rode with daddy in a parade once," answered the 
Princess.
	"No, I mean alone," said Victoria.
	Darylinn shook her head.
	"Would you like to ride my horse all alone?"
	"Really?" asked Darylinn, her eyes wide.
	"Really," said the archeress, picking the little Princess up by 
the armpits and lifting her into the saddle.
	"Wow!  I'm on a real horsie! All by meself," cried Darylinn,
 bouncing around in the saddle.
	"Here," said Victoria, taking Darylinn's tiny hands and putting
 them on the pommel of the saddle.  "Now you hold on real, real tight.
  Okay?" she asked, taking the reins.
	"Look daddy!  Look!  I'm on a real horsie!" shouted Darylinn.
	That's great sweetie!  Remind me to thank Victoria later," 
yelled Willium with a wave.  "Gith, you were right, if I buy her a pony,
 she'll forget all about pet snakes and giving them funerals.  My gardener
 nearly had a heart attack when he saw what she did to the crimson 
cascades," grinned Willium, causing his face to wrinkle as he shook his
 head.
	"Don't tell her yet. We still don't know if we're going to live 
through all of this," said Wynic, looking at Victoria thoughtfully and 
remembering the ring hidden beneath his tunic.

Chapter 12
		If we arrange the troops in three overlapping sixteen 
hour shifts, we'll have two thirds of our warriors fighting all the time," 
suggested Dillard, turning away from the map of the city.
	"I agree with Sir Dillard," said Gisoni.  "But I'm  afraid we 
minotaurs start to tire easily after ten hours of fighting, sixteen hour shifts 
will not work for us," he explained.
	"Well, then, we can arrange sixteen hour shifts for us humans 
and eight hour, twice a day shifts for your minotaurs," decided King 
Willium, sitting down in a hard Arthian Oak chair.  He groaned and 
rubbed his sore back.  "I'm getting too old for this!" he grumbled.
	"Not old, Sire," said Gith, pouring the King a goblet of mulled 
wine.  "Over experienced is more like it," he said, handing Willium the
 goblet.
	"Same thing," muttered Willium as he downed the liquid.
	"I think we'll have another problem," said General Gisoni
 thoughtfully.
	"What?" Redhawk asked.
	"I once tutored a soldier named Mathex, he's a brigadier now. 
 He's a gifted strategist and is fond of inventing and designing new 
styles of weaponry," he explained.
	"So?" Victoria asked, impatiently.
	"What Gisoni means is that since Mathex has invented several 
unique weapons, including the Goban-sword Gisoni's wearing," 
explained Lieutenant-General Pollex, pointing at the harpoon/longsword 
his master wore on his belt.  "He's likely to design an even deadlier 
weapon," he explained.
	King Willium downed another goblet full of wine.  "Could we
 find a counter attack or perhaps design a better weapon?"
	"Not likely," said Pollex bluntly.  "Mathex's weapons designs 
are usually very powerful and to the point."
	"But we could develop a better weapon then?" asked Victoria
 hopefully.
	"A thousand scholars couldn't think up more good inventions as
 Mathex could," snorted Gisoni with a bit of pride in his pupil.
	"You trained him too well," noted Wynic, quiet until now.  "It 
seems to me you taught him everything, but he's devising new tricks 
and now they're working against," he said, finding it ironic.
	Pothax glanced at Wynic and realized  why the assassin had 
been so successful; Taught too well.  Victoria and Redhawk also
 noticed this, but neither showed it.
	"Whatever," grumbled Willium, the alcohol starting to take 
effect.  "I'll contact the University, it's our best shot."
	"Anything else we need to discuss," Lord Redhawk asked, 
looking around at everyone's blank faces.
	"Sir Dillard, General Gisoni and I, will work out the details,"
 said Jacog, standing up to take a second look at the map of the city.
	"Is King Willium in there?" asked a hoarse voice out in the hall.
	"Yes, but you can't disrupt the meeting," replied one of the 
guards posted out in the hall to guard the proceedings.
	"It's urgent," repeated the voice, a stern tone edged with steel 
accompanying it.
	"Identify yourself and I'll think about it," said the guard.
	The voice grew irritated.  "I am Lieutenant Rades of the Royal 
Stornium Army.  I've been given an order to take a message to King 
Willium himself, even if I have to fight my way to him!" he spat and 
there was the tell-tale sound of a sword sliding from a sheath.
	Redhawk opened the door and two guards that had been 
leaning on the door tumbled to the floor at Redhawk's feet.  "Come
 in Lieutenant.  Guards, you are relieved of duty and have been 
reassigned to latrine scrubbing duty at the soldier's barracks," he
 ordered.  The guards obeyed immediately, cursing themselves for
 their foolishness.
	Rades smirked and sheathed his sword.  He was somewhat
 short, barely over five feet tall.  Barrel-chested and extremely 
muscular compared to some of the northerner's present.  His skin was
 darkly tanned and scarred from past battles. He had brown eyes and 
dark blond, almost brown hair as was typical of a Stornium.  He seemed
 to have a grin permanently stuck to his face.  His armour was simply 
polished steel, slightly battered and rusted around the edges.  There 
was a huge dent in his breastplate, which he actually seemed proud of.
	"Come in Lieutenant," yelled Sir Dillard, sitting down with a 
mug of Colnician coffee.
	Gith rushed over and motioned Rades into a chair.  "Would 
you care for some Kinian Red, Colnician coffee, or perhaps something
 more like home?  I believe we have some ale and Stornium wine 
down in the wine cellar," he offered the Lieutenant.
	"Uh, thank you!  Um, I'll try your Kinian Red," said Rades
 somewhat confused.
	"So what is your message, Lieutenant?" asked Gisoni, leaning
 forward.
	"Uh, messages actually," corrected Rades, shifting nervously 
and staring at the assembled Minotaurs.
	"And what are they?" demanded Willium, slightly drunk.
	"The Lady of Castle Deltex sent me to tell you that the 
Minotaur Army has arrived at Deltex, I fear they have besieged the
 castle and that the village has been burned to rubble," explained 
Rades, studying the Kinian Red Gith was pouring into a goblet for
 him.
	"How big is Deltex," asked Pollex, glancing at Gisoni.
	"About fifty foot walls, four acres by six acres," said Rades,
 taking a sip of the wine.  "Whoah! Vat's in this stuff?"
	"Fermented appleblossoms and grapes, Sire," replied Gith.
	"I've tasted wine before, but what did you put in it to make it 
like that?" Rades asked, looking at Lord Redhawk, having previously
 noticed the Kinian's accent.
	"We ferment the wine at a certain temperature, it brings out a 
different texture in the wine," explained the knight and poured himself 
a goblet full.
	Rades wondered briefly if that would work on ale.
	"Whatever," said Pollex, interrupting Rades' thoughts.  "Rades,
 from your description of Castle Deltex, I believe the minotaur army 
has slaughtered your town's people."
	"What?  Why?" protested Rades, jumping up and spilling his
 wine in Jacog's lap.  "Sorry about that," he quickly apologized.
	"It's been practically a military law for the past four thousand
 years," explained Dillard, toying with the silver medallion he wore.  
"Never leave enemies behind you, let alone enemy posts, or you'll 
end up dead."
	"But-"
	"This is war. A war has no room for 'buts'," interrupted Dillard.
  "The best we can do is put a stop to this war as soon as possibly."
	"That has something to do with my other message," grumbled 
Rades, still not understanding his whole life had been left behind and 
slaughtered.  "Lord Blackaxe's men say that Queen Helen will only be
 sending half of her army, none of her knights, and Blackaxe's army is 
defending his own interests," he said, sitting back down.
	"There's thirty thousand knights down in Stornium and the 
about half of the Stornium Army is fifty-five thousand!" protested 
Jacog, rising to his feet.
	"There's two hundred thousand soldiers in Blackaxe's army! 
 Why can't he help?" demanded King Willium, slamming his goblet on
 the table.
	"Gentlemen," shouted Nebonex, finally speaking up. "I'm sure
 Rades doesn't care much for politics.  Do you, Rades?" he asked, 
looking at the Lieutenant.
	"No, sir."
	"So he doesn't have the answers.  I propose we send someone
 to Glist to persuade Queen Helen to send more men.  In the mean time
 I ask that we adjourn this discussion until tomorrow morning," he 
shouted.
	Rades stared at the Minotaur Prince, it was hard for him to 
believe he was sitting less than ten paces from the future Emporer.  It 
was hard for him to believe he was really here, within the Great Walls
 of Athex.  It was extremely hard for him to believe all his friends, his 
kin and everyone else he knew was dead.



		"Did you notice it, Wynic?" asked Redhawk that evening
 at Wynic's estate.
	"Notice what?" questioned the usually extra-observant assassin, 
turning away from the study window.
	"Nebonex has lost, or at least forgotten his prejudice against 
Stornium's, he's also grown quite more mature since his father died," 
Redhawk explained, setting down his wine goblet.
	"I think he was kind of spoiled and naive. His father's death has
 made him a bit shrewd and more commanding.  Those will be useful 
leadership qualities when he gets older, and will probably prove useful
 now," replied Wynic thoughtfully.  He felt almost jealous, he'd always
 been more in the shadows so to speak, rarely showing his face in the 
crowd, which is the way he preferred it.
	"If only we could find a way to use them," murmured Redhawk.
	"The big problem is how do we prove Arthian isn't guilty and 
Kobalix is the real threat," said Wynic, frustrated.  "Nebonex told me 
Kobalix serves as an advisor to the Empress, so convincing her will be
 difficult if we try to send messages.  Kobalix would probably intercept
 them in the first place.  So more than likely, Nebonex would have to 
speak to her in person," he mumbled, turning back to the window.
	"Master, a servant from the palace delivered an uniform for you
 and a message from King Willium for all of you," said Devid, pushing 
the door open a bit more and setting an orange and blue uniform on the
 desk along with a scroll.  "I also sent a servant to find Pothax and I'll 
find Lady Victoria personally," he said and closed the door behind him.
	"I don't know about you, Wynic, but an orange and blue 
uniform isn't exactly a fashion statement," grinned Redhawk.  "They 
clash horribly!"
	"From what Gith told me about painting, clashing colors stand
 out more, this is probably a military trick to make it seem like there's 
more soldiers."



		"What do you think?  Do I look like I've joined the 
army?" asked Wynic, turning around in his new uniform. He fasten the
 accompanying four-starred insignia to his tunic.  He was dressed in 
shiny black leather riding boots that reached up to his knees, an 
embroidered orange tunic, with a short silver spear embroidered on the
 front, which in addition to the insignia proclaimed him to be a general 
of the Royal Arthian Army, or at least the same rank as one.  He had 
blue dyed leather pants and a large black leather belt around his waist.
  He had never liked plate armour so he wore his leather armour under
 his uniform which made him look bigger than he actually was.
	"I take it back, Wynic, you look almost dashing," complimented
 Redhawk. "If not stupid looking."
	"You want him to look dashing? Go find a black cape," 
suggested Pothax, leaning his elbow an the diner table.  Pothax had 
acquired a somewhat lost expression from wandering Wynic's estate.
	"I won't look dashing if I trip on the stupid thing, I'll look like
 a klutz!"
	"Well, lets see what old Willium has to say?" suggested 
Redhawk, breaking the wax seal and unrolling the parchment.
	"Well?  What's it say?" asked Victoria, leaning forward and
 straining to see.
	"Willium obviously took several hours composing this so I'll
 make it short.  Victoria has been promoted to Brigadier-General from
 Second-Lieutenant," said Redhawk.  "Congratulations Victoria, that's
 one heck of a jump from Second-Lieutenant!"
	"You're kidding me?" blushed Victoria.
	"Actually, Willium wants to abdicate and crown you Queen," 
grinned Redhawk.  "Now, I'm kidding!"
	"What else does it say?" asked Wynic.
	"Um, he wants to know if Pothax would consider working as 
a military spy so we can keep track of this Mathex guy," the knight 
said, glancing at the cutthroat.
	"There's not much difference between spying and assassinating
 except you don't kill 'em, you just search their belongings and watch 
them carefully," replied Pothax.  "As long as I don't have to dress up 
in some stupid uniform."
	"He also wants to know if Wynic and I would go to Glist to
 talk to Queen Helen and Lord Blackaxe."
	"What?" cried Wynic.  "I'm not a damned politician!"
	"Nebonex, Jacog and Willium insist."

Chapter 13
		The Arthian Throne room was crowded so much that 
details about the companions surroundings were limited to the ceiling 
which was painted off white.  Nebonex, Willium and Jacog stood upon
 a hastily built dais. Present were chancellor Adams, Sir Dillard, General
 Gisoni, his Lieutenant-General, Pollex, the Arthian Field Marshal Pegs, 
the Colnic Field Marshal Sahos and many more generals and middle 
ranks.  Redhawk, Wynic, Victoria and Pothax stood off to one side 
of the dais.  Several Lords and Ladies were present for no particular 
reason, with the exception of Lady Bardelias who was there for the 
younger soldiers.
	Wynic had previously warned Pothax to steer clear of Lady 
Bardelias and to remember he was with a different breed of people 
than he was used to.  "For instance don't place a hand on your sword,
 it could be mistaken as a challenge to a duel," he had explained earlier.
	Nebonex thumped the haft of his father's trident against the dais
 and King Willium called for silence.  "Fellow respected leaders," 
Willium boomed out across the crowd.  "Emporer Nebonex was 
assassinated and we, Arthians stand accused.  Because of that, the 
Minotaur Empire has declared war.  It has been proven that the late 
Emperor's brother, Kobalix, was responsible for the assassination.  
We must find a way to prove to the Minotaur Empress that Kobalix 
is a traitor to the Empire.  We welcome your suggestions.  We wish 
to evade this war with the least bloodshed.  Even as we speak though
 the Minotaur Army is fighting its way here!"
	The crowd was silent.
	Wynic looked around at the thoughtful faces and realized these 
people were more dumbfounded at the thought of war than the thought 
of how to evade it.  They needed something to get the ball rolling in the
 right direction.
	"We could send Prince Nebonex to talk to the Empress," 
suggested a Colnic knight.
	"Too dangerous.  Kobalix wants him dead too.  That incident 
during the parade at Nebonex's arrival was an assassination attempt on
 the Prince," replied Jacog.
	"We could get the Empress to come to him," suggested another
 knight.
	"I doubt they'd trust us enough and  how would we get the 
message there without Kobalix intercepting it?" asked Jacog.
	"If the Empress is going with the Army, why don't we paint the 
message on the city walls," replied Sahos.
	"That's an interesting idea, Sahos," replied Willium.  "Any 
further suggestions before we adjourn to the conference room to 
discuss the matter?"
	"Is there any way to delay the Minotaur Army?" asked Adams.
	"I'm afraid not, though the idea has merit, since we are stressed 
for time," said Willium sadly.
	"This meeting is over.  Will the prerequested people please
 assemble in the dining hall," shouted Jacog.



		"I won't go," said Wynic stubbornly.
	"Wynic, we knew you'd say that, which is why we want you 
to do this, so please wait until after we explain before you decide," said
 Willium.  "You have an uncommon power of persuasion, Wynic, which
 you probably don't know about.  You don't have the ability to play with
 words like some crafty politician, but you're stubborn.  I want you to 
go down to Glist and demand, as stubbornly as you can, that we 
desperately need the Stornium Knights, the other half of the Stornium 
Army and Blackaxe's army of course, as soon as possible.  In war time
 means lives, and we desperately need lives!"
	Wynic slumped in defeat.  They'd cornered him with words.
  "All right, I'll go," he sulked.
	"Lord Redhawk and an escort of two Arthian Knights will 
accompany you.  I suggest you leave immediately," said Nebonex. 
 "Because time-"
	"-means lives," finished Wynic, interrupting the Prince and 
standing up. "I'll leave now."



		"Wynic," said Victoria.
	"Yes?" he answered, buckling on his shortsword.
	"Wynic, I want you to promise me that no matter what happens 
you'll come back alive," Victoria said, a tear forming.
	"I fully intend to come back alive," replied Wynic.  "If you 
promise to still be here to greet me when I get back," he said, putting 
his arms around her.
	"I do."
	Wynic tried to bring himself to ask her, but he couldn't and 
kissed her instead.  "Could you help me lash Gith's sword to my back,
 I keep hitting myself in the head with the crossbar."



		"Why didn't you ask her?" asked Redhawk from 
across the campfire that night.  The two Arthian Knights slept from 
after taking the first watch since Redhawk and Wynic had taken the
 last watch, because of Wynic's late night awakenings.
	"Ask who what?" asked Wynic, pretending  not to know 
what Redhawk was talking about.
	"Victoria, of course.  You've been wanting to ask her to 
marry you for the last week, haven't you?" demanded Redhawk,
 pulling out a bottle of brandy.
	"Yes," replied the assassin, staring into the fire.  "I can't seem 
to find the right time to ask her," he mumbled.
	Redhawk would have said the assassin was scared but decided
 against it.  He valued Wynic's friendship too much to come between
 Wynic and Victoria, and risk losing their friendship.  Tugging on his 
mustaches, he decided to change the subject.  "I wonder what Queen
 Helen really looks like.  She's supposed to be the most beautiful 
woman in the world, but I doubt it.  It's probably made up to make 
the monarchy look better!"
	"And if she is? Maybe you should become her champion?" 
laughed Wynic, rising to inspect the horses.
	Redhawk snorted brandy out his nose and laughed out loud. 
 Wynic looked at the knight with brandy frothing out his nose and 
shook his head.
	"Can't you two keep quiet," muttered one of the Arthian knights.
	"Wake up!  It's breaking the fast time!" shouted Wynic.  "Stir
 up the fire and put some bacon in the pan, Redhawk," he said, making
 sure the horses were securely tethered.
	Redhawk nodded, took a swig of brandy, and spat it out on
 the fire.  The fire rose immediately.



		The great wheat fields of Athex lay before the Minotaur 
Army.  The army was branching out into groups of two legions, brigadiers
 and upper ranks leading the small armies.  Three hundred groups total
 made this the greatest army to walk the world since the Fall of the Last
 Vormian Dynasty.
	"Mathex, do you have the designs for your weapon made?  The 
Empress wishes to see them," said Atreneth, sprinting up to run beside
 the brigadier.
	"I have several designs made, but I haven't had the time to 
perfect them," replied Mathex.
	"Doesn't matter, she just wants to see your progress since we
 left Evicoth."
	"These are very good designs, brigadier.  I think your teachers 
would be proud," complimented Gwen, truly impressed.
	"They're crude designs Empress, I haven't had time to perfect
 them yet," said Mathex modestly.
	"Make that very proud."
	"Thank you Empress, your compliment is most valued for one 
of my low status," said Mathex.
	"Status, smatus!  Any ding-a-ling could tell you have an 
extraordinary gift.  I'd be a stupid fool not to say so," Gwen grinned, 
running beside the brigadier.
	"Thank you Empress," said Mathex, totally off guard by Gwen's 
unusual charm.



		Pothax couldn't understand it.  he had spied on several
 small minotaur forces already.  Why had the Minotaur Army split up 
into hundreds of smaller groups?  It didn't make sense!
	Seeing the now familiar cloud of dust down the road, Pothax 
hastily hid his horse in a clearing a hundred yards from the road, and 
climbed a huge Arthian maple which leaned over the road.
	The two Minotaur legions entered the bush cautiously.  This 
was the most possible place for an ambush within five leagues.  Fanning
 out fifty yards on either side of the road, the legion continued through
 the maple bush. 
	As the group passed beneath the tree, Pothax noticed a 
minotaur working on a design for an oversized crossbow on a piece 
of parchment.  Noting the potential power of a crossbow, Pothax 
decided that this had to be Mathex.
	When the legion disappeared behind the next rise of wheat.  
Pothax climbed down, retrieved his horse, and followed the two legions.



		Sneaking into the Minotaur camp that night was a 
difficult matter.  There were two hundred minotaurs standing guard 
around the camp.  Were two hundred until Pothax knocked one 
over the head, and crept further into the camp, knowing that all he 
had to do was snap a twig, and he'd be dead.
	Thanking the Lord that the minotaurs use tents, Pothax crept
 up to Mathex's tent without being even heard.  Probably because 
wet minotaurs don't smell good," he thought with a grin and looked 
at the dark clouds overhead.
	Looking inside the tent, Pothax thanked the gods again.  
Mathex wasn't inside.  Quickly lifting the tent flap and walking in, the 
cutthroat knelt down and began rummaging through Mathex's pack.
	Finding the designs, Pothax noted that only one was apparently
 a finished design.  Stuffing the finished design in his pouch, he returned
 the other designs and arranged the things inside the way he had found 
them.
	Hearing the sound of approaching boots, the cutthroat hid in 
the corner of the tent where the shadows hid him.  Seeing the silhouette
 of a minotaur march by the tent, he relaxed.
	Mathex opened the tent flap and stepped inside.
	Startled Pothax fell backwards, and caught himself with one
 hand behind him. The grass was cold and wet from dew.  Grass?
	Mathex was reaching for a lantern.
	Looking closer, Pothax saw a huge rip in the tent moonlight 
leaking inside where his hand was.  Moving silently so Mathex 
couldn't hear him, the cutthroat slid between the canvas and slowly 
stood up.
	"Damn that was close," he whispered.
	Sneaking out of the camp, Pothax untethered his horse and
 began the ride back to Athex.

Chapter 14
		"Whoa!" cried Sir Dillard, looking at the design of the 
overgrown crossbow and handing it to Lieutenant-General Pollex.  
"That's powerful enough to bore a hole through the wall big enough 
for a man to crawl through!"
	"Maybe more or less, since Athex's walls are so thick, the 
weight on the destroyed area might cause further breaches in the wall,
 or perhaps collapse the whole thing like dominos!  I told you Mathex
 would probably design an extremely powerful weapon," said Pollex, 
handing the design to Jacog.
	"The Minotaur Army will probably arrive here tomorrow 
afternoon, so we don't have much time," said Pothax, sitting down
 beside Sir Dillard.
	"Would you like a drink Sire?  You must be thirsty after five
 days of hard riding?  I'm surprised the stableboys haven't reported 
your horse dead!" asked Gith.
	"Thanks Gith, I'll have some Stornium wine," replied Pothax,
 slumping back into the comfortable velvet couch.  Gith walked to the
 door and dispatched a servant to fetch the wine.
	"Could we build some of these giant crossbows?" asked 
Willium, taking the design from Gisoni and showing it to Victoria.
	"Of course," said Jacog.  "We might have to cut down every
 large tree within a five mile radius of Athex if you want lots of them, 
but we can build 'em."
	"Good, I believe these could be a useful weapon," said 
Willium.  "I-"
	"We have another problem," interrupted Gisoni.  "Nebonex, 
you're going to have to make a speech to my minotaurs.  I've had 
some desertions and tonnes of complaints from my men about fighting 
their kinsmen and comrades.  I too, have to agree that I don't want to
 fight my fellow countrymen."
	"You'll have to remind them what they're fighting for, why, and
 who their real adversary is," remarked Rades from his seat in the
 corner of the room.  Nebonex had become friends with the lieutenant
 and the Prince had insisted that Rades be present at the meetings.
	"We have another problem," said Victoria.  "We have only two
 hundred forty thousand soldiers, minotaurs and knights included.  It 
will be a couple more days before the first half of the Stornium Army 
arrives and another two weeks before the Kinian Army arrives.  Even 
more so before the rest of the Stornium Army and Blackaxe's army 
arrive," she explained.  "Gisoni, you said the Minotaur Army has a 
little over six hundred thousand soldier.  We're short soldier!  They
 could easily overwhelm us with a major attack with assault towers 
if they could build enough!"
	"What's an assault tower?" asked Rades, who hadn't been
 trained in siege warfare.
	"It's a large wooden structure which is rolled up beside the 
wall of the city or castle.  Soldiers inside then lower a small drawbridge,
 and attack the walls," explained Nebonex patiently.  "What if we hired
 mercenaries," he suggested, turning to Victoria.
	"They'd have to have pretty high wages," shrugged Victoria.
	"How much?" asked Willium.
	"Seven to eight silver a day."
	"That's outrageous," the King cried.
	"Master," said Gith, setting the bottle of Stornium wine down
 beside Pothax.  "Perhaps you would like something to drink, to calm
 your nerves?  Sorry for the delay, Pothax, I should have went myself, 
the servant got lost in the cellar looking for a particular vintage."
	"Thanks Gith," replied Pothax, pouring himself a drink.
	"I think, I'll try some of that," said King Willium, getting up, and
 walking over to pour himself a drink.
	Dillard scratched at his scar and wondered what Willium would
 think if someone suggested prohibition on alcohol.  He shrugged and
 decided he didn't want to find out.
	"Willium, you and Victoria work on hiring mercenaries.  Sir 
Dillard and Rades can get the Arthian and Colnic armies to chop 
down trees and start building giant crossbows.  Jacog you can help 
me compose a speech," ordered Nebonex, standing up.  "Gisoni, 
Pollex, go start a vigorous training program.  I want those soldiers 
whipped into shape by the time I make my speech this afternoon."



		"Fellow kinsmen," roared Nebonex.  "You may have
 heard rumours about the announcement I will now make.  Kobalix,
 my evil uncle is a traitor to the Empire.  It is he who hired the assassins
 who attacked us during the parade and killed my father.  I've learned 
that he also had an assassin attack my mother, the Empress.  Kobalix 
wants to kill my whole family so he will become Emporer.  Will we
 let him?" bellowed the Prince.  By now the ten thousand minotaurs
 had turned into an angry mob.  Minotaurs were known for their 
loyalty to the Royalty and the thought of a traitor to the Throne was
 enough to thoroughly enrage them.
	"Let's assassinate Kobalix, see if he likes it!"
	"A sword in the ribs always changes a mans loyalty!"
	"Kill Kobalix!" one minotaur shouted and the mob took up
 the chant.
	"Kobalix has now tricked my mother into declaring war on 
Athex.  I need time to convince my mother that Kobalix tricked her. 
Will you fight for that time?" shouted Nebonex, barely audible over 
the crowd.
	"Yes," roared the angry mob of minotaurs.
	"Will you die for that time?"
	"Yes!"
	"My kinsmen," shouted Nebonex, tears rolling down his 
cheeks, unashamed.  "Today, my father and I are proud of your 
infinite devotion."  The minotaurs roared proudly in reply, the sound 
deafening onlookers like Rades and Gisoni.
	"Great speech," Jacog congratulated once his hearing returned.



		"How are we going to find two hundred thousand 
mercenaries in such a short time?" cried Willium in despair.
	"If you'll be quiet, I'll tell you," said Victoria, growing impatiently
 and tired of listening to the Kings whining.
	Willium fell silent.
	Victoria sighed.  "Willium, did you know that your city has the
 highest amount of scoundrels in all of the western kingdoms?" asked 
Victoria.  "So much, that it's an organization led by a self proclaimed
 Crime King?"
	"You aren't suggesting we-?"
	"Yes, I am!"
	"But-"
	"Shut up, Willium!  It's well past time you learned how large
 the crime is in your precious city is," interrupted Victoria, turning on
 a heel and walking down the hall.  She stopped and turned around.
 "Are you coming?"
	"No one will recognize you. They've never seen you before!  
But if you insist on an uniform you can, though these people usually 
don't hold much respect for authority."
	"Can I help?" asked Elexenia from behind Victoria.
	The archeress jumped and whirled. "No!" she snapped.  
"Don't you know it's impolite to sneak up on people?" 
	"Wynic does it all the time," pouted Elex.
	Victoria was reminded of that evening at the spring when 
Wynic surprised her, but shook her head.  "Wynic's an assassin.  
You're a Queen, there's a big difference," explained Victoria.
	"So, can I come with you?  Please?" begged Elexenia.
	"No."
	"She'll follow us anyway, Victoria.  We might as well take 
her with us," whispered Willium.
	Victoria sighed.  "Oh, all right."



		"How do I look?" asked Willium, entering in his 
uniform.
	"Fat," said Elexenia bluntly.
	"She's right, Willium, you do need to lose some weight," said 
Victoria honestly.  Willium glared at her and sucked in his gut in 
response.
	Elexenia laughed in hysterics, her oak staff whipping back and
 forth and nearly clonked Victoria and Willium both on the head.



		"We wish to speak with the King," said Victoria, 
pushing a huge cutthroat into the bar.  The cutthroat looked at Victoria,
 Elexenia (particularly Elexenia) and Willium, and laughed.
	"Up the stairs."
	"Why did he laugh?" asked Elexenia, following Victoria as she 
pushed through the crowd towards the stairs at the rear of the shabby
 tavern.
	"Never mind!" growled Victoria, thinking that bringing Elexenia
 along wasn't all bad.  If people wanted to think they were prostitutes,
 so be it if it got them in.  She climbed hastily up the rickety staircase.
	"I wish you hadn't pushed him, Victoria.  I'm getting too old to
 fight people so much more bigger than me," said Willium, glancing 
back at the huge cutthroat with a shudder.
	"Bigger than you?" asked Elex, looking pointedly at Willium's 
waist.
	"Shush Elex," snapped Victoria.
	"Halt."
	Looking up at the two huge guards that had appeared out of 
alcoves in front of her, Victoria craned her neck to look at the one who
 was wearing a shabby purple sash, assuming him to be the one in charge.
	Why do you seek to speak with his Highness?" asked the one
 with the sash, confirming Victoria's guess.
	"We want to hire two hundred thousand cutthroats," blurted 
Willium.
	"Shut up!" Victoria glared.
	"Let them in, ye morons!  I'd like to know who'd like to hire
 that much men and who would have that much money," shouted a 
sharp voice from behind the huge Arthian Oak door at the top of the 
stairs.  The two guards stepped into the notches in the walls and 
disappeared into the shadows.
	Victoria opened the huge door and entered cautiously.  The
 room was paneled along the walls, ceiling and floor with expensive 
Arthian Maple.  A crimson carpet led up to a Throne, where the most
 handsome man Victoria had ever seen sat with the left side of his face
 to them.
	The man was just under six feet tall, with  muscles bulging 
through his tunic.  His hair was pitch black, and his face was nobly 
shaped with a deep brown tan.  "My name is Waytorn, you've 
apparently heard of me and my station: King of the Underworld," he
 said, turning to face Victoria.
	The archeress nearly retched.  Waytorn's right side of his face
 was burned with scars all over the side of his face.  The combination
 of his beautiful left side with fair complexion and his horribly scarred 
right side was enough to make Victoria feel sick.  Willium grimaced, 
but stoically kept his shock hidden.  Elexenia just stared.
	The King of Cutthroats smiled bitterly.  "My face is the price 
and punishment for killing the former King," he explained.  "Why do 
you wish to hire me and my men?"
	"I've been ordered by King Willium to hire mercenaries to 
help defend Athex against the Minotaurs.  I decided to go to you, 
since your power probably exceeds King Willium's," replied Victoria,
 her face was pale and she tried hard not to stare.
	Willium started to protest, but Waytorn interrupted him.
	"That much is true.  When Hitlot was slain, there became an
 opening for the Crime Lord of Kinian.  One cutthroat claimed the
 throne, but I later overpowered him, and later went on to expand into
 the territories of Colnic, Arthian and Stornium.  If I may, I'll 
congratulate King Willium on Athex," he smiled at the chubby King, 
recognizing him.  "Your city holds well over several million people, 
the largest city in the world, a metropolis.  It's been very profitable 
to me over the years, and I've gained quite an army of cutthroats, 
assassins, and other miscellaneous killers.  Unfortunately I have only
 a hundred thousand men here," he said regretfully.
	"Don't matter.  How about we pay you ten silver for each 
minotaur killed, that doesn't include the small minotaur army that is 
already here," Victoria smiled.
	"Of course," laughed Waytorn.  "I'd go for it, but I'm afraid 
I can't spare any men, a rival minotaur Crime Lord is massing his men
 in a cove north of here, and I fear an attack."
	"Perhaps we can help each other out then?" suggested 
Victoria.  "What's the name of your rival?"
	"Kobalix."

Chapter 15
		"What?" cried Willium.  "That's impossible, he's the 
Emperor's brother!"
	"Not really, Willium.  He did hire Pothax to kill Nebonex and
 he did hire another for the assassination attempt on the Emperor's son.
  He also tricked the Empress into declaring war on Athex, so why 
couldn't he also be an Crime Lord as Waytorn says?  it could be that 
everythings connected to some master plan of his," argued Victoria.
	"But-"
	"Think Willium.  If Kobalix wants to conquer the world, 
wouldn't it make a bit of sense that he might want to conquer the 
underworld too?" said Victoria impatiently. "And now that I think 
of it, wasn't that Hitlot's plan as well?"
	"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" asked 
Waytorn, looking hopefully at Elexenia.
	"Don't look at me!" cried Elexenia.  "I may be a Queen, but
 I don't have a clue when it comes to politics!  I let my husband take
 care of that!"  Waytorn stared in response.
	He decided he'd have to shout to get some answers.  "Shut 
up, before I have you  all removed!"  Victoria and Willium fell silent.
  Elexenia hid behind Willium.
	"Victoria, that's your name isn't it?  Please explain and the 
rest of you," his eyes fell on Willium and Elex huddled behind the 
King.  "Shut up!" he ordered.  He placed his hands akimbo.
	"Kobalix is the former Emperor's brother.  He tricked the 
Empress into declaring war and he had the former Emperor 
assassinated," Victoria explained, pausing when he raised an eyebrow
 questioning.  "He wants to rule the world, apparently that includes the
 crime world," she said, noting Waytorn's interested look.
	"A traitor obviously," smiled Waytorn.  "He overcrossed the
 boundary when he had the Emperor killed, that's an unspoken law 
here.  It would count as a declaration of war on my territory, which 
might explain that 'rule the world' business."
	"Would you like the details?" Victoria asked.
	"I'd love the details," replied Waytorn.
	"May we sit down?  This will take some time."
	"If you wish," said Waytorn, motioning them to sit in some 
comfortable, cushioned chairs.



		Waytorn stared at Victoria in silence, somewhat 
dumbfounded, but hardly surprised.  Blinking, he stood and stretched.
  "Perhaps I should with you and your fellow people.  Since Kobalix 
is a threat to both of us, we can work out an agreement."
	"Could you come to the palace tomorrow morning?  We'll tell
 the guards at the gate to expect you," said Willium, standing up and 
yawning lazily.
	"Don't bother.  I never use gates," Waytorn said with a smile.
	"Oh."



		"Okay men, put your backside into it.  I want all the 
large trees cut down and hauled back to the soldier's barracks," 
shouted Sir Dillard.  The Arthian and Colnic commanders saluted,
 and repeated the order to their men.  A tidal wave of axe blows 
against wood reminded the knight of thunder and wondered if it 
could be heard miles away.
	Soon there was shouts of 'Timber', as giant Arthian maples 
and scattered copses of oak trees began to fall to the ground.  Almost 
immediately, men fell upon the trees, hacking away excess limbs.
	"Sir, this is great," remarked Rades.  "The two armies are
 improving greatly at strength, and their skill of swinging a weapon."
	"A battleaxe and a wood axe are quite different, Rades, but 
I see your point.  This will also increase their accuracy.  So we are 
getting several benefits from this," replied Dillard, mounting his horse.
	"Look! There's Gisoni!" pointed Rades at tall figure running in
 their direction.  The lieutenant found minotaurs fascinating and their 
customs far from boring.  "What's the weather like up there?" yelled 
the stocky Stornium.
	Gisoni ran up to them, and looked down at the lieutenant.  "Fine,
 how's your's?" he laughed.
	"A little moist from the fog rolling in from the lake," Rades 
replied, craning his neck ridiculously.
	Dillard laughed.  "How did Nebonex's speech go?" he asked, 
scratching his scar.
	"He was stupendous.  My men were chanting his name, and 
carrying him around the city," said Gisoni.
	"Where are they now?" asked Rades.
	"I'm having them stampede around the city, turning up mud.  
The assault towers won't be able to roll through the mud when their 
done," grinned the huge minotaur.
	"Notice this is almost fun?" asked Rades, mounting his horse
 so he was at eye level with Gisoni.
	"You won't say that when the fighting starts.  I just got a 
message from Victoria, she says Kobalix has a private army north of
 here, but she's working on gaining us another ally."
	"How big is Kobalix's army?" asked Dillard.
	"She said larger than Blackaxe's which is two hundred 
thousand," replied Gisoni.
	"Now we really need Blackaxe's army," said Rades.



		"Willium, wake up," urged Gith, shaking his master 
gently.
	"Whatsit?" muttered Willium.
	"You slept in, sire.  Victoria, and the rest are waiting in the 
dining hall," the retainer whispered to avoid waking Willium's 
tempersome wife.
	"Is my high advisor Kolad there?" Willium asked, groaning as
 he sat up.
	"Yes sire."



		"Sorry I'm late," apologized Willium.  "The stress 
from everything is starting to take effect," he muttered, taking his 
seat beside Kolad.  Willium didn't like the gray-eyed advisor, the
 man was fanatical loyal and the King found that kind of attention 
embarrassing.
	"You didn't miss much, Willium," replied Victoria.
	"How dare you!" protested Kolad.  "Your supposed to call
 him 'Your Majesty'!"
	"Shut up, Kolad!" yawned Willium.  "I'm too tired and hungry
 for your nonsense."  Kolad stared at Willium, his mouth opening and 
closing like a fish.
	"What would you like to eat, sire?" asked Gith.
	"Some of those toast things Redhawk likes so much," Willium 
replied.
	"One batch of Kinian toast coming up," said Gith, turning and 
leaving.
	"Okay Victoria, what else have we learned?" asked the King, 
settling back in his chair.
	"Kobalix has the second largest criminal army in the world,
 next to Waytorn.  Waytorn has five hundred thousand men, but 
they're scattered throughout Kinian, Colnic, Stornium, Arthian and 
small parts of the minotaur empire.  He's massed a hundred thousand
 here in Athex and another 250 thousand in an abandoned keep in 
northern Arthian, south of a keep he's building in Kinian.  The rest are
 heading here to join the rest of his ranks," explained the brigadier.  
"Kobalix has over three hundred, fifty thousand men, mostly minotaurs.
  From spy reports, Waytorn says that Kobalix's army north of here is
 growing by a couple hundred minotaurs a day, however the numbers 
pouring in each day are decreasing."
	"Waytorn, could you bring all of your army here.  It might be 
wise if we massed all our people together," asked Jacog, turning to 
Waytorn.  Willium raised an eyebrow; he hadn't noticed the cutthroat
 king sitting in a secluded corner of the dining table.
	"Of course, of course I could, but getting the message to them
 could be difficult with Kobalix's men probably set up for ambushing 
messengers," answered the cutthroat.  the initial staring at Waytorn's 
face had not yet quit, especially from Kolad.
	"Would a thousand Colnic Knights out for lance practice be 
a sufficient escort?" asked Jacog.  "My knights need the chance to use 
their horses as well, camels are usually used back home."
	"It would."
	"Brigadier Victoria," said a colonel, walking up to the archeress.
  "We spotted the cloud of dust in the distance.  What are your orders?"
	"Send a major out there with a hundred horsemen.  Tell the 
major to get as close as he can without being seen.  That doesn't mean 
hiding five feet behind a minotaur.  I want all the soldiers reports on my 
desk in less than four hours," Victoria ordered.  the colonel saluted and 
marched out.
	"Dillard, Rades, how did those giant crossbows go?" asked 
Nebonex. 
	"Were in the process of testing the first one, sir," said Dillard. 
 "we have another ninety-nine being built right now.  We figured a 
hundred of them would be sufficient," he explained.
	"Good," said Nebonex.  "Gentlemen, Victoria, continue your 
duties.  We will meet again in five hours on the southern city wall."




		"Where's Victoria?" asked Gisoni, leaning against 
the wall.
	"She'll be late.  She said she had to survey some new troops,"
 answered Willium.
	"Okay then, we'll just start without her," said Nebonex, drawing
 his sword.  "I had a servant bring several buckets of dirt up here for me
 to draw this map.  Athex's walls are shaped in a perfect hexagon," the 
minotaur said, drawing a huge hexagon in the dirt with his sword.  
"There's Westgate, Northgate and Southgate.  Each has two towers
 on either side of those huge gates," he said, drawing the towers as 
squares, with the gates between them.
	"The eastern ports are guarded with three towers, Northtower,
 Eastower and Southtower, and  canals leading into the city called 
Northport and Southport.  Trying to attack there would be suicidal, 
but we should put a reasonable amount there anyway," he said, 
drawing the ports, towers and canals.
	"So if we have 340 thousand soldiers, knight and minotaurs
 included.  We can have 230 thousand manning the walls at a time, 
while the other 110 thousand rest as reserve," said Willium.
	"Gisoni," said Dillard.  "How would your minotaurs feel about
 guarding the two eastern ports?"
	"Fine."
	"We'll need more than ten thousand minotaurs to defend it 
effectively against a major assault," said Pollex.
	"Would thirty thousand Arthian knights led by Sir Dillard be
 sufficient?" asked the Colnic General Sahos.
	"Yes, it would."
	"Okay then," said Nebonex.  Willium found it amusing that the 
minotaur had adopted the Arthian word 'Okay' which in reality was a
 slang of old Kinian meaning 'to the barge'.  "Gisoni and Sir Dillard are 
in charge of the two eastern ports," he said writing a D and a G at the 
ports.
	"That leaves 300 thousand soldiers, cutthroats and knights.  
Waytorn, we'll put you and your cutthroats in charge of Northgate so
 you'll be towards the direction of Kobalix's private army.  I'm sure 
you won't mind?" said Willium with a grin.
	"More than happy to," replied Waytorn.
	"Sahos,' said Willium, "you'll be in charge of Westgate and
 Pegs, you'll be in charge of Southgate."  Nebonex wrote a S at 
Westgate, a P at Southgate and a W at Northgate.
	"Nebonex."
	"The gathered leaders turned around to face Victoria.  Her
 face was pale and she was puffing hard.  "Read this," she said, 
handing the prince a folded piece of parchment.
	Unfolding the message, Nebonex began to read outloud.




	Dear Nebonex:
		How's your father?
	Nice try painting a message on the city walls, the Empress 
still doesn't trust you!  She thinks you're being held captive!  General
 Gisoni and his minotaurs are now considered traitors.
	My spies tell me that Queen Elexenia and her champion are 
in Athex too.  What luck!  I can get rid of two royal families in one 
stroke!  How about that?
	You sent Wynic Doxon to Stornium.  I've made sure he'll never 
make it across the border, much less Glist!
	Half the Stornium army is out wandering the Arthian plains, 
playing a game of cat and mouse with some of my men.
	Face it nephew, you're dead meat!

						Yours Truly,
							Kobalix

Chapter 16
		"Wynic, I keep having this feeling were being watched,"
 sighed Redhawk, leaning back in his saddle.  He stretched his arms
 lazily.
	"I know," muttered Wynic, looking around the seemingly empty
 landscape.
	The Arthian plains were endless fields of wheat tended by 
peasants.  Every so often a small village or an estate or castle would 
appear and disappear on the horizon.  Dotted herds of buffalo and 
aurochs proved the bulk of the beasts were already heading south for 
the winter.  There was the occasional copse of Arthian maples, beech 
or poplar.  Large forests were rare this far from lake Vormia.
	"I wonder if the Arthian Knights have been having the same 
feeling?"  Redhawk spurred his horse to a gallop.
	Wynic shrugged and followed.  He'd known Redhawk long 
enough to know the knight isn't paranoid.  If anything it made a bit of 
sense that someone might have sent a spy after them.
	"We've been having the same feelings.  There's a poplar forest
 ahead, what do you say to trusting our instincts and ride through there 
at a full gallop with our swords drawn?" asked the stockier of the two 
knights.
	"Agreed."  Redhawk drew his longsword.
	"Try to stay at least twenty yards away from each other, that
 way they can only surprise one person when and if they jump us.  I'll 
go first," said the other Arthian.  he drew his sword, and galloping ahead.
	The four men rode ahead, and entered the forest.  Wynic 
entered last, and drew Gith's sword.  He was half way through when
 the first knight slumped over, and fell from his horse with a crossbow
 bolt in his chest.
	Spurring his horse harder, Wynic nearly reached the forest 
edge when a second bolt struck his horse.  Grabbing his saddlebags
 with his free hand, the assassin vaulted from the saddle and landed 
at a run.  Quickly mounting the dead knight's warhorse, he threw his
 saddlebags over the saddle horn and spurred the horse to a gallop.
	Reaching the edge of the forest, the assassin heard the thunder
 of hooves.  He turned in dread to see fifty or more minotaurs 
stampeding across the open plain.  The three men watched as the 
ground was churned into mud.
	"In the name of Stornium, charge!"
	"Redhawk looked around, but couldn't see anyone who could
 have yelled such an order.  He wondered briefly if he'd imagined it.
	But the minotaurs apparently could see the threat, and 
immediately stopped and stampeded eastward instead.
	Far in the distance, so far that they were barely specks of purple
 and yellow, was half of the Stornium Army.  The huge Stornium 
warhorses charged across the open plain, and passed by the three 
men, who stared in silence.
	Riding up to Redhawk, a man in a plumed hat, black armour,
 and purple cape, leapt from his horse, and bowed with a flourish.
	"I am General Chek of the Royal Stornium Army, at your 
service," he said, removing his hat.  General Chek was bald with 
steely blue eyes and seemed to have a grin from one ear to the other.
	"Lord Redhawk," said the Kinian Knight.  "This is Sir Flek, 
and Wynic Doxon."
	"The Paladin Assassin," murmured Chek, staring a bit openly
 at Wynic.
	"The what?" asked Wynic.
	"The Paladin Assassin, that's what you're called in Stornium," 
explained Chek.  "And Lord Redhawk has quite a reputation himself 
in Stornium, he's referred to as the Red Knight, just like Lord Blackaxe
 is referred to as the Black Knight," he grinned.
	"General Chek, could you provide us with an escort of fifty men
 to take us to Glist, in exchange for Sir Flek, he's starting to get homesick
 for his wife's embrace," asked Wynic, sheathing his sword.
	"Deal."



		"Queen Helen," said a maid at the door.  She looked
 at the Queen hopefully, knowing her news would rid the Queen of her
 melancholy.
	Helen woke, pulled a flimsy negligee over her naked body, and
 went to the door.  "What ist it?  I don't usually rise at this hour," she 
asked the maid.
	"We've received a message that the Red Knight and the Paladin
 Assassin have entered the city and are heading this way to speak with
 you," answered the maid with a small smile.
	"Go to the closet and find a turquoise gown.  It has no shoulders
 and ruffled upper sleeves with silver trim," Helen ordered, sitting down
 at her desk.  Opening a drawer, she picked out a simple silver circlet, 
and an elegant platinum-silver alloy necklace with a semi-precious 
turquoise gem.  Taking an ivory brush that was a gift from a Prince of 
Tigalo, she began to straighten out her sleep tangled hair.  She absently
 cursed bed-head.
	The maid returned with the gown, helped Helen into it and 
fastened the straps on the back.  Picking up the necklace, she fastened 
it around Helen's neck.
	Adjusting the necklace so it was just above her milky white 
breasts, Helen turned to the maid.
	"Your crown, Majesty," said the maid, handing the circlet to 
Helen.
	"Well, you can't say I didn't try," sighed Helen, placing the 
crown firmly upon her head.
	"May the Lord curse anyone who isn't struck by your beauty,"
 mumbled the maid.



		"Gentlemen be cautioned, because beyond this door
 sits the Queen of Stornium, rumored to also be the Queen of Beauty,"
 said the Captain of the Royal Guard with a grin.  "Some men have 
become so impassioned that we've had to drag them her Majesty's 
presence," he said, poking his lieutenant, who blushed.
	"Just open the damn door," growled Redhawk, threatening.
	"Okay, but I warned you!" replied the Captain,, standing off 
to the side, and motioning a guard to open the door.  As the guard 
opened the door, Redhawk gasped in amazement.
	Wynic glanced at the huge knight wondering what could affect
 him so.  Then he looked at the Queen.
	Even from across the huge Throne room she was wonderfully 
gorgeous.  She was wearing a turquoise gown with ruffled sleeves and
 no shoulders.  The front of her gown was cut just above her breasts, 
which gave tantalizing glimpses of her soft flesh.  Her hair seemed to 
flow from her head; it shined radiantly.  Her eyes fluttered intriguingly.
	"And the angels each gave her one quality and one curse, but 
they each cursed her with the power to possess a man's soul, and so it 
seemed the curse is not an unbearable one after all," recited the Kinian,
 his lips barely moving and his chest ceasing to rise and fall.
	Wynic hadn't heard that story for years and glanced at the 
knight, terribly worried.  Slapping Redhawk on the back, he whispered,
 "Snap out of it!  You're embarrassing yourself!"
	Redhawk shook his head, and looked around the throne room,
 but his eyes kept darting back to Helen.
	"Queen Helen, we are truly pressed for time, so please forgive 
me if I seem uncivilized," said Wynic, approaching the throne.
	"Continue," replied Helen, her voice light and somewhat musical.
	"Why didn't you send all of your army, we greatly need it?" 
asked Wynic.
	"Is that why you journeyed so far?  Don't you know Stornium 
has been at the brink of a war with the Tigalos for the past nine years?"
 demanded Helen fiercely.
	"Tigalos doesn't have a navy even if they did decide to attack.
 Your Royal Guard and the City Guard could easily defend you against
 anything Tigalos could rustle up.  Besides Tigalo has a civil war every 
three years, if they declared war, they'd probably have a civil war
 before they could launch their ships," argued Wynic.  "In addition, you
 are allied with Arthian and therefore must send as much aid as possible!"
	"I'll make you a deal, Wynic," said Helen shrewdly.  "I'll send 
my army if you two agree to stay as my guests.  It's been awhile since
 I've had an interesting guest!"
	"I'd love to your Majesty," said Redhawk, looking up.
	"But I'm afraid we have to go to Lord Blackaxe's castle," 
refused Wynic.
	"Doesn't matter.  What do you say Lord Redhawk?"
	"If you insist."
	"It's settled then.  Lord Redhawk, I'll have a chamber prepared
 for you immediately.  Wynic, if you talk to the captain out in the hall,
 he can give you directions to Lord Blackaxe's castle," said Helen, 
stepping daintily down from her huge throne.
	"Bye, Wynic," waved Redhawk, following Helen from the room.
	Wynic stood there and tried to sort through what had just 
occurred.  Finally he gave up, shrugged, and left to find the Captain.



		"Redhawk are you lonely?' asked Helen cautiously.
	The knight was very aware of the beautiful Queen's body 
leaning against his, and especially aware of the intoxicating scent that 
came from her and from the surrounding garden.  He felt his face 
grow red as he continued to polish his longsword.  "Me?  I'm too 
busy half the time to be lonely, and that's rare when you live in Athex 
with five million other people.
	"Neun, I mean are you looking for a wife?  I've found myself
 looking for a husband.  I'm kind of looking for advice," said Helen, 
looking up at him.  Her eyes fluttered.
	Redhawk groaned inwardly.  Either subtle wasn't in the 
Queen's vocabulary, or was this her normal procedure for courtship.
 "You?" he exclaimed.  "I'd think you'd have miles of suitors lined up
 at the door!"  He picked up his breastplate and eyed it critically.  
Taking out a small hammer, he turned the breastplate over and began 
lightly tapping a dent back into place.
	"I'm afraid not.  I don't have a single suitor."
	Redhawk had to admit that if she'd wanted him to feel guilty 
now she'd gotten her wish.  "I'm a suitor, what's wrong with me?"
 asked Redhawk, a bit hurt.
	"You? I never even thought of you!" she exclaimed.
	Redhawk nodded, knowing this to be a complete lie.
	"My father, Lord bless him, passed a law that I can't marry 
anyone who isn't Stornium nobility.  It was his way of insuring that I 
marry Lord Blackaxe.  And it nearly worked, except the Blackaxe 
family has always been a proud, ego sort.  He wanted power, but 
being ambitious, he wanted to work for it.  Oh, we loved each other,
 still do, but we weren't lovers, you understand?"
	Redhawk nodded and listened intently, while rubbing his 
breastplate with an oiled cloth.
	"Now look at Blackaxe, he's one of the most powerful men 
in the world.  But that wasn't even his real goal, merely a stepping stone!"
	"What was it then?"
	"The Swathick Axe.  He's wanted it since he first heard that 
damn poem!"
	"Well, that's silly, the poem doesn't even rhyme, and some 
say there never was a Swathick Axe!"
	"Blackaxe says the reason why it doesn't rhyme and is still 
around even though the Last Vormian Dynasty was three millennia 
ago is because it's true," Helen replied.  "Anyways," she said, changing 
the subject.  "I could get rid of that pesky law.  What would you say to
 courting me?"
	Redhawk didn't even have to think about it.  "I'd love to!"
	"Great, it's settled then!"  She thrust her head forward and 
kissed the Kinian.
	Redhawk breathed in her scent until he couldn't stand it any
 more.  His breastplate clattered to the floor unnoticed.



		"Where's Pothax, I want to hire him," growled 
Nebonex, crushing the note angrily and throwing it over the battlements
 as far as he could.  Which was pretty far.
	"We can't do that or we'll never be able to prove to your mother 
what he really is!" protested Victoria.  She liked his idea as she was a 
bit worried about Wynic, but she also held faith that the assassin was
 probably better than okay.
	Nebonex swore and kicked the wall, knocking a large rock 
loose.
	"Now what do we do?" asked Dillard.
	"We try to think of another way to warn the Empress," sighed
 Pollex.
	"I wonder," mumbled Gisoni thoughtfully.
	What?" Nebonex demanded.
	"I wonder what the Empress would think if we said "Kobalix 
is a traitor to the Empire" as many times as we could," explained the 
minotaur general.  "Hang banners saying that and perhaps create a
 marching tune which said that and other important facts as well."
	"She'd probably think we're nuts, but I'll wager she'd start 
watching Kobalix more carefully," said Willium.
	"Well, then it's worth a try isn't it?" asked Gisoni hopefully.
	"I don't see why not," Willium replied.  "We don't have a 
better plan other than surrendering or fleeing the city."

Chapter 17
		"Wynic Doxon to see Lord Blackaxe."
	"How do I know you're Wynic Doxon?" asked the burly 
guard.  He sneered down at the assassin.
	"How do you know I'm not?'
	"Prove it."
	The assassin sighed.  He really hated it when people didn't
 believe him.  It was so annoying.  "How do I prove that?  Think man, 
am I supposed to assassinate someone to prove it?" Wynic snorted. 
 "Well, if the name doesn't work, maybe the uniform will," he muttered
 under his breath.
	Taking off his dirty traveling cloak, Wynic revealed the uniform.
  "Wynic Doxon of the Royal Arthian Army, if you don't stand aside, 
I'll make you," he threatened.
	"What's your rank?"
	Wynic swore under his breath.  The four-star insignia meant 
General in any army, yet the soldier was deliberately acting stupid.  
That's one thing Wynic hated about the army, they were mostly 
uniformed bullies.  "What do you think?" he asked, drawing his shortsword.
	"Hey!"
	Wynic hesitated and looked to the guard who had spoken.
	A huge man with a great red beard and dark curly, red hair, 
rode up on a warhorse.  "What's the problem here Lieutenant?" he 
asked in a gruff voice.
	"This man claims to be Wynic Doxon.  He's wearing an 
Arthian uniform," explained the burly guard.  "He-"
	"Actually, I'm a honourary general, normal officers don't have
 a silver spear embroidered on their tunic," Wynic interrupted.
	"He wants to speak with the Lord personally," added the 
guard.
	"Why not?  I know Joachum quite well," said Wynic, using 
Blackaxe's first name.
	"Wait here," ordered the horseman and rode away.
	Several long minutes passed before he returned.  "Wynic, 
follow me.  I'm to take you to Lord Blackaxe," said the red-bearded
 horseman.
	"Wynic mounted his horse and followed.
	"Sorry for the inconvenience, Wynic.  I'm Major Eluth of the
 Black Stornium Army.  We're devoted to Lord Blackaxe's interests
 and we collect information concerning the Swathick Axe," recited 
the bearded man.
	"Why does Blackaxe need information about it?" asked 
Wynic.  Eluth was stalling and Wynic knew it.
	"I thought you knew Blackaxe?"
	"We've met many times, but I don't really know him."
	"Oh.  Well, anyway, Lord Blackaxe wants the Swathick Axe
 for his collection.  If you get the chance, go see his war room."
	Wynic had been to Castle Blackaxe before, and knew they 
were going the wrong way, especially when they passed the Belching 
Baron twice.  "Thanks, I'll do that.  Now why are you stalling?  I'm
 not stupid, and I'd swear we went by the same tavern twice!" 
demanded Wynic, his hand going to his shortsword confidently.
	Eluth thought for a moment, a bit startled.  "Colonel Darl 
doesn't trust you.  He instructed me to stall fur time and eventually 
lead you to an alley called Viewpoint.  There you'd be shot by a 
crossbowman.  Actually, I think Darl's off his rocker, either that or 
he's drunk again.  Though I'd hab noticed it if he was."
	"Well, then here," said Wynic unbuckling his shortsword and 
handing it to Eluth.  Drawing his bastardsword, he handed it to Eluth 
handle first.  "Next my daggers, I'd set my swords down, because I've
 got quite a few daggers," suggested Wynic, starting at his boots and 
working up.  "Now you can take me to the brigadier so I can surrender
 to him," he said, handing over another pile of daggers.
	Eluth was thoroughly shocked by Wynic's manner, plus huge 
the number of daggers.  It took him a while to decide what to do.  
"Okay, I'll take you to the brigadier," he said uneasily.



		"Why?" asked the brigadier, standing up.
	Wynic briefly described the situation and was surprised when
 the brigadier laughed.
	"It was Darl, richtig?" guessed the brigadier. His voice was 
thickly accented with Old Stornium.
	"Yes.  Has this happened before?"
	"Darl did that once with Lord Blackaxe, he's lucky he wasn't
 demoted, let alone executed for treason!  Dis time we'll change dat!"



		"Seize him," the brigadier ordered.
	"What?" squealed Darl.
	"This man is an impostor.  Darl isn't that doofe ta plan an attack
 on the Paladin Assassin!" said the brigadier.  "And if he is, seize him 
anyway.  Stupid colonels are dead colonels when they commit treason!"
	"What?" screamed Darl as his own men seized his arms.  He 
struggled vainly.
	"Major Eluth, you will take the place of Darl until we find the 
colonel's body," the brigadier ordered, ignoring Darl's wailing.
	"How Darl ever became a colonel, I'll never know.  In the 
mean time I'll escort you to Blackaxe," said the brigadier.  "Mein name
 ist Roreed, und I'm honoured to meet you.  My son adores your 
stories.  Would you care to stay at my somewhat humble house for 
the night, the boy might ask a lot of questions, but you might enjoy it."
	"I'd enjoy it, Roreed."


		"Wynic, what are you doing here?" exclaimed Blackaxe.
 He crossed his huge arms, and furrowed his black eyebrows.
	Wynic managed a weak smile before the imposing knight.  
"I came at the request of King Willium.  We badly need your army's
 help,"  replied the assassin.
	"I'm sorry, Wynic, but my army's waiting for my order to head 
out to sea to search for the Swathick Axe."
	"Is the Axe worth more to you than five million lives, maybe 
more?"
	"Yes, it is.  If I know where it was, I'd help you, but in the 
meantime I have to find that Axe."
	"For some collection?" scoffed Wynic.
	"Is that what people say?  It's not for a collection, it's for a 
dream.  It's the one thing, the one hope that keeps me from being 
trampled in battle or in life," growled Blackaxe.  "If you want to get 
me to help, you help me find that Axe," he said, tossing a scrap of
 parchment at Wynic.
	The parchment had a 'V' beside a '2' with a '+' above it 
scrawled on it.  "What's this?" asked Wynic, holding it up.  It looked
 vaguely familiar to the far traveled assassin.
	"A retired fisherman claimed that he knew where the Axe was.
  When he died just several days ago, he scrawled that down.  He 
said it would tell the exact location of the ship carrying the Axe went 
down.  I can't figure the damn thing out!" spat Blackaxe, leaving and
 slamming the door behind him.
	Wynic sighed loudly, and studied the parchment in the empty
 study.



		"Savin!"
	The burly pirate captain looked around half expecting an army
 to be crouched behind him ready to spring.  His head was shaved 
completely, and he had a gold ring imbedded in his cheek.  He had 
dangerously flashing eyes, and a crooked grin.
	"Savin," Wynic repeated.
	"Wynic Doxon," shouted Savin, jumping up.  "I haven't seen 
you in a hound's age!  Where've been?"
	"Almost everywhere, except the Minotaur Empire," answered
 the red-haired assassin, sitting down in a barstool beside Savin.
	"You don't want to go there now do you?  They have their 
fleet patrolling their waters east of here.  Ye know, what with this war
 going on, and all.  Barkeep," he yelled. "Bring my friend here some 
of your best, and don't try watering it down, heez not dee friendly sort!"
	Wynic laughed and remembered his last encounter with the 
jovial pirate.  "Say, how's your sister?" he asked.
	"Six feet below, face down, god curse her!" growled Savin.
	"How'd you get rid of her? You kept bugging me to kill her!"
	"I didn't have a thing to do with it.  She fell off her horse," 
laughed the pirate smiling at the memory.  Wynic snorted.  "Let's skip
 this, Wynic.  You never come looking for me unless it means trouble!"
	"How'd you guess?"
	"I trust mein instincts.  What do you want?"
	"Take me to this place," Wynic said, handing the Stornium the 
piece of parchment Blackaxe had given him.
	"Hmm.  Two leagues south of Castle Verd.  Why do you 
wanna go there?" asked Savin.
	"I didn't even know where it was!" protested Wynic.  "How'd
 you figure it out?"
	"It's an old way of navigating.  Sort of like Vormian numerals.
 Nobody's used it much for over seven hundred years," explained Savin.
	"That makes sense.  I got it from an old man, so he probably 
wasn't used to modern navigation," Wynic half-lied.
	"What's it lead to?"
	"A sunken Vormian ship.  And you know how much metal 
those usually have!  I figured we could split it."
	"Deal," agreed Savin.  "It's better and safer than raiding 
merchant ships and risking getting caught by a patrol galley," he laughed.
	"Savin, I do believe you're getting yellow!"



		"I'm afraid it's bedtime," said Roreed sternly.  He
 frowned at his son though his eyes shone happily.
	"Please, one more story?" pleaded the boy.  His eyes shone 
happily and his face was joyous.  Wynic couldn't refuse.
	"Okay, but come here and sit in my lap," said Roreed.  "Will 
this story be scary, Wynic?  I wouldn't want to get nightmares!" he
 said with a wink.
	Wynic grinned.  "Very scary."
	"Well, then I'll need someone to hug me so I don't get scared, 
won't I?" said Roreed, picking up his son and setting him on his lap.
	"You're not scared, are you?" asked the boy.
	"Of course not!"
	Wynic smiled.  He unconsciously wished for the life the boy led.
  So carefree and unmarred by the harshness in the world.  "One night,
 Redhawk and I were going through an old aspen forest up north and 
we came upon an abandoned castle.  We were sleepy and decided to
 take shelter in the castle.  However when I woke up the next 
morning..."  Wynic stopped to look at the sleeping boy.
	"Shh," whispered Roreed, silently taking his son to another 
room and returning with a bottle of brandy.  "How's the story end?"
	"It doesn't.  I was making it up," grinned Wynic.  "He'd have 
been very disappointed that I wasn't as great as he thought I was."
	"How do ye know yer not?"



		"Let's go.  What are we waiting for?" asked Wynic 
impatiently.
	"My first mate.  He's the only one in my crew I can trust.  This
 line of work is often victim to mutiny," replied Savin.
	"Ich bin hier Captain," yelled a youthful man from the port side
 of the ship.  His accent was more than heavy, almost completely old
 Stornium.
	"What were you doing?  Swimming?" yelled the pirate captain.
	"Vas else vould Ich be doing?"
	"Why I oughta!  Get this damn ship moving ye smart aleck!  
Now!"
	"Okay, let's geht gehen.  Untie the ship from the dock and raise
 the anchor.  I vantta slide past that patrol vessel out there so fast they
 von't be able to count how many sails wir habe," yelled the first mate,
 sailors instantly hastening to follow his orders.
	"He shows remarkable leadership qualities," commented 
Wynic.  "Though his accent is very thick."
	The sails were raised and the riggings tied in what Wynic 
thought must have been record time for such a large ship.  The 
Crescent Moon was about sixty-five feet long, twenty feet wide and 
an extraordinary five masts, other ships near by had only two or three
 masts.  As always, Wynic wondered at how such a simple thing as a
 ship could possess a man's soul like the Crescent Moon possessed 
Savin's.
	But then Savin's father and Savin himself had built the ship.  
It had broken Savin's and his father's heart when his father had been 
forced to sell it.  So when Savin noticed the Crescent Moon in a 
harbour, he and several shipmates decided to steal it back.  It had 
become a heirloom of sorts.
	Wynic sighed and went down below the deck to have a 
drink with Savin.

Chapter 18
		"This is the spot, and if it isn't may the Lord strike me 
dead," swore Savin.  He glanced up at the heavens expectantly.
	"Bang!" yelled a sailor in Savin's ear.
	"That does it!" yelled Savin, kneeing the offending sailor in 
the stomach and pushing him over the railing into the sea.  "Phyon, 
you're so good at swimming.  Get down there and help him find 
that treasure," ordered Savin, pushing his first mate forward.
	Phyon immediately followed orders.  Climbing over the 
railing, he dove smoothly into the frigid sea.  The two sailors started 
the slow process of diving down, searching the sea floor and 
resurfacing elsewhere for air.
	"Find anything?" asked Wynic, somewhat anxious.  He 
remembered that time meant lives.
	"There's a sunken Vormian sip down there.  You can tell 
from the steel hull, it must be in it," came the reply.
	"Keep trying and search the entire ship if you can."



		"Dere's several barrels and a cabinet down dere. 
Ve'll need some damn strong rope ta haul em up," hollered Phyon.
	"The only good rope we have ist the rigging.  If you use
 that we could be at a disadvantage if a patrol ship caught us," 
replied Savin.
	"Why?" asked Wynic.
	"Wir don't have any merchant papers, we need them to
 legally pass through Stornium waters," explained Savin.
	"Well, couldn't the Crescent Moon outdistance a  patrol ship?"
	"Not a patrol ship, they're galleys and especially not without
 the riggings!"
	"Could we use the chain from the anchor?"
	"It will take longer, and that might increase the risk of getting 
caught.  Ye habt ta pay ten platinum and they hang the captain," Savin
 shuddered.
	"Well, then we'll take that chance and if they catch us, I'm the 
captain," reasoned Wynic.
	"Okay, it's your life not mine."
	"Or we could say we had just stopped to give the captain a
 sea burial."
	"Hey, now that's a good idea!  Only the captain knows where
 the papers are kept so we'd get away scot-free!"



		"Roll those barrels into my cabin, quickly, and get dat 
chain back up before a patrol ship catches us," ordered Savin, scanning
 the horizon, worried.  "Spare no man until we reach Blackaxe castle!"
 The barrels were immediately rolled into Savin's cabin, while another 
two sailors carried the cabinet.  The anchor was reattached to the chain
 in what Wynic considered record time.
	"Dis ist gehen ta be close captain," muttered Phyon.
	"Why?"
	"Dere's a ship off der starboard bow, und it's moving zer fast!"
	"What?" cried Savin.  "Double your speed men, there's a galley 
off the starboard bow!"
	"Why don't we go out and meet them," suggested Wynic.
	"Was? Are du kriezi?" screamed Savin, almost totally reverting
 to old Stornium.
	"Er ist rictig captain," said Phyon.  "If wir vent out ta meet dem
 und maken up something about just burying the captain, wir vould 
haben keinen problem.!"
	Savin thought it over, grudgingly.  "Okay, but I don't like it, pass
 the worte ta der sailors. One small slip, und wir would all be shark bait!"



		"Guten tag, Commodore," yelled Wynic as the galley 
pulled alongside the Crescent Moon.
	"Uh, tag," replied the commodore, slightly off balance from this
 unusual turn of events.  He was a bit taller than Wynic, and lean.  He 
had dark blond hair, cut short and combed back.  He had inherited the
 Stornium nose, and dark eyes.  He looked somewhat wild and untamed.
  This was someone Wynic had to respect, for he was obviously a 
veteran soldier and killer from the countless scars on his darkly tanned
 skin.  He was wearing baggy black pants, and a dark yellow tunic.  
The other sailors wore white tunics, or at least they would have been 
white if they weren't smeared with dirt, sweat, and food.
	"Bring the cabinet out here," Wynic ordered, trusting his 
instincts.  He strained to keep a poker face.
	"Vat are you doing?" whispered Savin.
	"Trust me," replied Wynic, jumping across to the galley to stand
 beside the commodore.  "Commodore, could you escort us to Lord 
Blackaxe?  I'm a friend of his." asked the assassin.
	"Depends.  Wie heisst du?"
	"General Wynic Doxon of the Royal Arthian Army," he replied. 
This uniform is starting to get handy, he thought.
	The commodore's dark eyes flashed in recognition.
	"Bring the cabinet over here," Wynic ordered.  The sailors 
glanced at Savin who nodded.  "Anybody got a mace I can borrow?"
 asked the assassin, looking around at the gathered officers.
	"Lacid, give him your mace," ordered the commodore.  An 
officer stepped forward and handed Wynic a huge steel mace.
	"Danke," said Wynic in old Stornium, taking the mace.  
"Commodore, have you ever heard of Lord Blackaxe's search for the
 Swathick Axe?"
	"Are you saying the mace is in there?" asked the commodore.
 His face was that of an expert poker player, yet his eyes flashed 
curiously.
	"Blackaxe asked me to help him find it, so I sure hope it is," 
shrugged Wynic.  He prayed the old fisherman was right and raised the
 huge mace as the two sailors set the cabinet down in front of the 
assassin.
	Smashing the mace into the cabinet, Wynic heard the splintering
 of wood and a solid clang of metal against metal.  Rubbing his shoulder 
from the force of the blow, he reached inside, and brought forth the 
Swathick Axe.
	It wasn't much to look at. It was a plain non-descript Axe, the
 metal had turned gray with age.
	"Das ist es?" blurted Savin in old Stornium.
	"Only one way to find out, give me your broadsword," said 
Wynic.  The pirate grudgingly threw over his broadsword.  Swinging 
the Axe, which he noted was amazingly light, the two weapons collided, 
and sparks and metal chips went flying.  He shielded his eyes with his
 free hand as he was showered with metal chips.
	"You owe him a new sword," grinned the commodore.  "The
 name ist Carlo, and you've got yourself an escort."
	Wynic stared at the broken sword in wonder of the weapon 
he held.  Perhaps it was his imagination, but the axe had sliced through 
it like a hot knife through butter.  With no effort at all.



		"Wynic, you tricked me," Savin accused later that night.
	"Perhaps, but you got four barrels worth of gold, silver and 
platinum," replied Wynic.  "Yet I don't get anything, infact, I'm minus a 
sword."
	"Forget the sword, with those barrels, I could buy a whole fleet 
of ships," smiled Savin.  "Or I could retire and live the life of luxury."
	"Wynic?" came Carlo's now familiar voice at the door to the 
Savin's cabin.
	"Ya?"
	"Come out, both of you and take a look," said Carlo.
	Wynic followed Savin, and ducked under the low door frame.
	"Look at the horizon past the bow.  Have you ever seen 
anything like that?" asked Carlo.  Wynic noticed a tinge of fear in the 
commodore's voice.
	"No," admitted the assassin, staring at the huge column of water
 rising from the sea far to the east.
	"I have," replied Savin.  "It was off the Minotaur Isles.  I'm still
 not sure what causes it, but the minotaurs claim it is steam rising out
 of the sea whenever the Lord creates and hardens a new sword.  It's
 called a waterspout.  Sort of like a tornado, only at sea.  More likely
 it's caused by the wind just like a hurricane.
	"Should we steer clear of it?" asked Carlo, scratching his chin.
	"Of course, that column can get smaller or larger.  If we went 
too close to it, and it suddenly got bigger, we'd all drown.  I suggest 
we stay at least two leagues away from it at all times."



		"Captain Savin, the column is moving," shouted a sailor,
 urgently.
	Savin and Wynic erupted from Savin's cabin and looked to 
where the column had been when they had last seen it.  Sure enough, 
the column was now on the starboard side, having left a trail of frothing
 water and even a maelstrom.
	"Why didn't someone tell me sooner?" demanded Savin.
	"It moved very suddenly captain," replied a sailor.  "It kind of 
slid."
	"Now we're blocked to the north!  Helmsman, steer her to the 
port, and go around it," Savin ordered.  "If it does anything unusual 
again, get me out here so I can see!"



		"The worst seems to be behind us," said Savin thankfully
 the next morning.
	"We'll have to warn other ships to watch out for these columns,"
 murmured Carlo, watching the column disappear on the horizon.
	A sudden blast of wind rocked the two ships followed by a 
galactic wave that caused the most veteran sailors to fall to their knees. 
Crawling back up with Savin's help, Wynic looked around desperately
 for the cause.  A second column was spreading out across the western
 horizon, and closing the vast distance between it and the two ships.  
The wind became turbulent, constantly changing directions, and even 
going down at one point, a truly unusual wind.
	"Hurry men, raise the extra sails, we might have ta outdistance 
it," ordered Savin.
	"Extra sails?" asked Wynic, as the sailors hastened to obey.  He
 wondered what difference extra sails would do in such turbulent winds.
	"An invention of mine, they're side sails that attach to the railings 
and the port holes," replied the pirate.  "You can even steer with them
 if the stern's been damaged."
	It seemed to Wynic that the ship sprouted wings on each side, 
and fairly flew across the waves like some great bird of prey.
	"This ist zer hard on the ship's construction, we can only keep 
this up for about five hours or so, before she starts falling apart," 
murmured Savin.
	"Let's hope we don't have to wait that long."



		"Believe it or not, but we're in sight of Blackaxe 
Castle," said Carlo, the next morning.  "And the column is now out of 
sight so we should be pretty safe."
	"The poor girl's been shaken up pretty bad," murmured Savin,
 stroking the door frame lovingly.  "I think she deserves some pampering
 for a while and some repairs."
	"Your talking about pampering a ship?" asked Carlo confused.
	"Yes, but I'm also talking about a beautiful lady, a moon goddess
 you might say," protested Savin, hurt.
	"I'll explain it to you later, Carlo," said Wynic.



		"Every captain develops a special bond with their ship,
 in a way they love them.  Savin sees his ship as a beautiful lady, both 
fair and graceful.  His ship is those things after all, so do you see the 
connection?"
	"Yes, I think I do, it's sort of a devotion," replied Carlo.
	"Exactly, that same devotion, gives him reason, leadership, and 
a willing to sacrifice himself for the ship, and it's crew," explained Wynic.

Chapter 19
		"What do you want now, Wynic?  I already gave you 
my answer concerning the war with the Minotaur Empire," asked Lord
 Blackaxe.  His eyes darkened, betraying how annoyed he was.
	"Not what I want, what you want," answered Wynic.
	"Don't play games, Wynic.  I'm not in the mood!" snapped 
Blackaxe.
	"Phyon, bringst bitte die Axe," Wynic yelled in old Stornium. 
He smiled and watched Blackaxe's eyes go wide when Phyon carried
 in the shining axe.  Wynic had polished the axe during the long voyage
 until it had reached a mirror-like shine.
	"The Swathick Axe," murmured Blackaxe reverently.
	"Now will you help?" asked Wynic.
	"Wynic," said Blackaxe, his throat dry.  "I owe you an apology, 
and I'll make up for it in every possible way."
	"I'll take that as a yes," muttered Wynic.
	"My army will leave for Athex, today, if possible," the huge 
Stornium knight said, cradling the axe in his great arms.
	"Good, could you supply me with a fast horse?  I need to go to
 Glist and meet Redhawk," asked Wynic.
	"What's Redhawk doing down here at the capitol?" asked 
Blackaxe, shaking his head to straighten out his thoughts.
	"Last I saw him, he was staring at Queen Helen, and following 
her around like some lost puppy!" laughed Wynic.
	"Well, then, don't be surprised if they're betrothed when you 
meet him!" grinned Blackaxe.  He took the axe from the harness on his
 back and replaced it with the Swathick Axe.
	"Redhawk? And Helen?  You're joking, surely she has 
thousands of suitors ahead of him," laughed Wynic.
	"Afraid not," said Blackaxe sternly.  "The only suitors she has
 are only interested in her wealth and power.  Frankly, she wants a 
lover, not a greedy dumbkopf!" he explained.  He folded his arms 
proudly
	Wynic frowned, reminded of Redhawk joking about being a 
Queen's Champion.  "I wonder if I should pity him?"
	"If he's as smitten as you say, he's been betrothed at least a 
week," said Blackaxe.  "I'm going with you.  This I have to see for 
myself!"



		"Wynic," cried Redhawk.  "I see you convinced 
Blackaxe.  What took you so long?" he demanded, after releasing his 
friend from a crushing embrace.  Wynic staggered slightly.
	Wynic and Blackaxe had interrupted Helen and Redhawk's 
dinner, in the huge dining hall.  The assassin couldn't tell much about 
the room, though his night vision was startling sharp.  Only a few 
candles on the table lit the dark room.  They were obviously
 interrupting a very romantic moment between the two.
	"Show him Blackaxe," Wynic murmured.
	The knight took the Swathick Axe from the harness, and held 
it aloft so all could see.
	"You found it!" cried Helen.
	"Huh?" Redhawk asked curiously.
	Wynic and Blackaxe glanced at each other, sat down and 
launched into a long, confusing story.  In the end Redhawk just shook 
his head and muttered: "I'm sorry I asked."



		"I'm afraid I have to leave," said Redhawk, turning to 
Helen soberly.  She looked very small and unprotected suddenly.  He
 almost changed his mind, but bit his tongue before he could say it.  
He had to go.
	She swallowed a lump in her throat, and assumed a formal 
stance.  "May the Lord speed your return, betrothed," replied the 
Queen.  She sighed and nearly jumped on the knight, kissing Redhawk's
 lips passionately, the knight returning the kiss just as passionately.
	Blackaxe held out his hand and Wynic fished around in his 
money pouch, and handed the knight eight gold coins.
	"What's this about?" demanded Helen, stopping to breathe.
	"A little wager," sulked Wynic.
	"You're forgetting the rest," prodded Blackaxe.
	"Do I have to do it now?"
	"Ya."
	Grumbling, Wynic crawled out of his chair and groveled before 
Blackaxe.  "Oh, powerful, handsome, mighty, Lord Blackaxe.  You are 
the greatest man to ever live and ever will," he cried in mock worship.
	Redhawk laughed and clutched his sides.  Helen leaned against 
him and laughed so hard she nearly cried.  Blackaxe laughed heartily 
and held out his hand to the assassin.  "That's enough, Wynic, I 
embarrassed you enough," he grinned.
	"Remind me to get you for this?" Wynic asked.
	"Trust me, Redhawk won't let you forget and I doubt you'd
 forget anyway!"
	"We better go before there's no Athex to defend," said 
Redhawk, wiping tears from his eyes.



		"The Kinian army, and the first half of the Stornium 
army are camped several leagues to the north with Waytorn's 
cutthroats," said Jacog.
	"Along with a thousand Colnic knights," added General Pegs.
	"As soon as we light the pile of wood out in the courtyard of
 the palace, the knights will charge down the northern hill flanked by
 the cutthroats and followed by the Storniums, and lastly the Kinian 
army, who will guard the rear and kill off any survivors," explained 
General Sahos.
	Gisoni grimaced but nodded.  He didn't like killing his 
countrymen one bit.  He tried to pass it off that the blood was on
 Kobalix's hands but it didn't work. It just didn't.  He glanced across
 to the Prince's usual seat, but Nebonex had taken one of his many 
trips with Gith down to the catacombs below the palace.  Only 
Willium, Jacog, Pegs, Sahos, Dillard, Rades, Pothax, Victoria and 
himself were present for this announcement.
	"The minotaurs don't have any giant crossbows built yet, so 
they've been using the bulk of their army in assault towers.  If we 
could get them to use more assault towers by the time the knight's 
come charging down, we could unleash our own giant crossbows, 
and slaughter the works of them," suggested Rades.  An angry glint 
was in his eye and Victoria had no doubt of its cause.
	"Sorry, Rades, but we want to get out of this war with the
 least number of people killed, that includes minotaurs," said Willium,
 mindful of Gisoni.  Normally the King might not have noticed the 
huge minotaur's expression, but then again, normally he wasn't sober.
  Victoria found that she liked him better sober.  He seemed more 
Kingly.
	"Shall we go light the fire?  I'm really curious about the upcoming 
battle.  It should be interesting," said Jacog, standing up.
	"Of course.  I'll meet you all on the northern battlements.  
Victoria, can I speak to you, privately?" asked Willium, excusing 
himself from the room.
	Meeting the King out in the hall, Victoria asked: "What do you
 want to talk about?"
	"Gith mentioned to me that you and Queen Elexenia have been
 teaching my daughter horsemanship.  I have noticed that you are quite
 a talented, and political person.  However, some have referred to 
politician's as swindlers, and as such, are not to be trusted," smiled 
Willium.
	"Get to the point," said Victoria, unsure if she was being 
complimented or insulted.
	"I'd like you to be my daughter's tutor.  You're a fine example 
of what I want my daughter to become, a good leader.  You have 
noticed that you are the only other officer, with the exception of Rades,
 at the meetings with the Marshals and General Gisoni.  There are 
people with higher ranks than you, and yet they aren't present for the 
meetings."  Willium shrugged.  "Why? Because you're a born leader, 
and deserving of a higher rank than even brigadier. Perhaps general?  
Assuming we live through this."
	"You want a mercenary, who ran away from home to tutor the
 future Queen?  What are you?  Nuts?" cried Victoria.
	"Eccentric maybe, not nuts," replied Willium smoothly.
	Victoria stared at him speechless.  She hadn't imagined Willium
 to be this good.  It was easy to underestimate the chubby King though.
	"Come along now.  We really mustn't be late getting to the 
battlements, I don't want to miss the parade."



		"See that cloud of dust in the distance?" asked Dillard,
 pointing to the northeast.
	"I see it," replied Rades, distracted.
	"What is it?"
	"I don't know.  The minotaurs seem to be waiting for something.
  They have the assault towers all ready to attack, but they don't, it's like
 they're waiting for a signal or something."
	"They couldn't have penetrated our meetings with spies, so they 
can't know about the Kinian's coming.  I'll go talk to Gisoni.  Maybe 
he'll know what they're up to!"


		"I noticed it too.  They're stalling. I'd bet you my 
swordarm that Mathex has devised a weapon we don't know about, 
and they're about to use it," Gisoni said grimly.  "Pollex, go inform the
 other commanders to expect something," he ordered.
	"Yes, General," said Pollex and marched off.
	Dillard studied the minotaur army closely.  Silhouettes of 
minotaurs could be seen going between the many assault towers.  
Something was definitely wrong.  "They look almost like they're at a
 picnic or some kind of social gathering," he observed.
	"I think I'll give the command to fire the giant crossbows at 
the towers. And the trebuchets as well.  That should delay whatever
 they're planning," murmured Gisoni.  
	"Disobey Willium's orders?"
	"It's not like we haven't disobeyed orders before.  Besides 
something's up, and my minotaurs aren't that good when they're 
surprised or startled."



		"Is it just me or are Gisoni and Dillard going to fire 
their giant crossbows?" asked Waytorn, absently rubbing the scarred
 right side of his face.
	"Maybe someone sent an order, but we haven't received it?" 
suggested Victoria, one of the few people who could tolerate the 
King Culprit's looks.
	"Well, in that case, I might as well give the order to load the 
contraptions."
	"Go ahead, but don't fire yet.  I'll go find Willium, and see if 
he knows anything about it."
	She found Willium with Queen Elex in a carriage.  They were
 arguing over the building of a zoo, which Elex was clearly in favour 
of.  Victoria shrugged and briefly explained what she and Waytorn had
 seen.  She ignored the Queen's protests.
	"What?  Who gave them that order?" exclaimed Willium, 
jumping up and bumping his head on the roof of the carriage.  "Ow! 
Shit!"
	"That's why I came to you."
	"Driver," yelled Willium.  "Get us to Northtower immediately!"



		"We're ready General," yelled one of the minotaurs.
	"Aim them at the assault towers, and fire away," Gisoni ordered.
	 "I'd get out of the way first, General."
	"Oh? Okay," said Gisoni, feeling foolish as we walked out of the 
way of the giant crossbows.  "I just thought of something," he said to 
Dillard.  "Would those crossbows have any effect on the city gates?"
	"I don't think so," replied the Arthian knight.  "Those gates are 
ten feet thick and solid granite.  We still haven't figured out how they 
erected the monsters, and the pulleys that open and close them are 
nothing short of a mechanical marvel, though it takes half a hour to 
open and close 'em."
	"But wouldn't it be easier than the walls?  Surely you could 
crack them?"
	"Nope.  These walls are by far easier.  You see when they 
built this city they figured that two wall were better than one.  So they
 built two walls about thirty feet apart.  but then another person suggest
filling in the space between them with dirt, so now we have walls so big 
we can have chariot races around the city during the Summerfest.  It
 costs less than repairing the old colleseum," explained Dillard.
	"Fire!"
	The giant crossbows had been built horizontal and placed on
 curved tracks that rose up to the rear of the huge weapon.  So now 
when they were fired, they bounced back from the force and rolled up 
the track and back down to their original position.  A cleverly designed 
latch pulled on the release cord as it rolled back down and recocked the
 huge weapon.  It was now ready to be reloaded and fired again.
	The crossbow bolts, which were about a foot and a half thick
 and twenty feet long, tore into the assault towers lined up on the 
northern hill with so much force that they toppled over.  The minotaur's
 shrieks of surprise and death could be heard clearly from the city walls.



		"Fire those contraptions," ordered Waytorn, having
 seen the assault towers down by Northtower topple over.  His men
 immediately fired the great weapons with practiced accuracy.  The 
crossbow was one of the favoured weapons of an assassin, therefore 
the assassins with extreme skill with the weapon had been placed in 
charge of the artillery.
	A cheer went up from the hoards of criminals as the assault 
towers along Northroad toppled over from the force of the crossbow 
bolts.  A second, larger cheer went up as the Kinian Knights appeared
 on top of the north hill, and charged down the slope.
	An assault tower exploded, raining debris down on the 
surrounding area and killing the few surviving minotaurs.
	"God curse them!" swore Waytorn, jumping back.  "They're 
using black dirt!"
	The Kinian Knights and Waytorn's men guarding their flanks 
saw the explosion, and instantly avoided the assault towers for fear of 
being incinerated.
	"Open the gates," Waytorn ordered harshly.
	The huge granite gates began to slide slowly open.  A few 
foolish minotaurs thought that Athex was surrendering and ran towards 
the gate only to be shot by Waytorn's archers.
	The Kinian army crested the hill and followed the knight's 
example by staying away from the assault towers which were randomly 
exploding creating pillars of smoke for all to see.



		Rades cheer and grabbed the person next to him and
 hugged her triumphantly.  Another explosion went off, this time in his
 head as she kissed him.  He pulled away from her slightly dazed and 
excited.  She was beautiful, though her hair was cut unfashionably short,
 and her clothes didn't fit her properly.  She smiled at him, and he felt
 his cheeks go red.  "I'm sorry-"
	"Caught up in the moment," she apologized and blushed.  She
 giggled.  "Who are you?"
	"Lieutenant Rades of the Royal Stornium Army," he replied.  
"Lately of Deltex," he said under his breathe.
	"D'arcy of Arthian," she said and blushed.  "Sorry, I mean, 
Captain D'arcy of the Royal Arthian Army.  I was sent here by Marshall
 Pegs to ask why the crossbows were being loaded.  I suppose I should
 have ran faster."
	"Dillard and I, decided to load them and shoot them at the 
assault towers, because the minotaurs were stalling for something.  
Apparently that would be black dirt from all the explosions."
	"Dillard and I?  Sir Dillard?  The commander of the Arthian 
Knights?"
	"Yes? Why?"
	"What are you doing here, lieutenant?"  She stepped forward 
and grabbed him by the arm.  She wasn't that strong.
	"I'm second in command.  Dillard's advisor in a way."  Rades 
was very aware of D'arcy's breast's pressing against his chest.  They 
were large and firm.  Her hair smelled of spring roses.  He also noticed 
she wore absolutely no armour, and only a sword as a weapon.
	"Tell me, would you mind joining me for dinner?  Tonight at 
the Drunken Dragon?"  Her lips met Rades, and he couldn't have said
 no if he'd wanted to.  She stepped back seductively.
	"Ya," said Rades lustfully.

Chapter 20
		"Fire the giant crossbows," ordered Sahos.  General 
Pegs gave a similar order and soon it appeared that the minotaurs 
would be routed.  However King Sear was not one to be fooled.  
Riding down the northern hill, he had stopped to inspect the smoldering
 remains of an assault tower.
	No corpses, not a drop of blood.



		"Atreneth committed suicide, Empress," reported 
Mathex.  "We found his body.  He took cyanide by the looks of the 
foam in his mouth.  If I may add, I think he was obsess with using black
 dirt in the military.  It has certain mining aspects, I must admit, but is
 too dangerous to use in warfare.  Fortunately Kobalix discovered it,
 and we managed to abandon the assault towers and escape a major
 catastrophe."
	"Contact Damoti," replied Gwen, obviously distraught.  "He 
can suitably replace Atreneth."
	"Yes, Empress."  Mathex turned on his heel, and marched out
 of her tent.
	"Kobalix sat in a dark corner of the Empress' tent, silently
 thinking.
	"I made it very clear to Atreneth that black dirt was forbidden. 
 Only you or I could give him the order to use it.  So who'd give him 
that order?" wondered Gwen out loud.
	"Perhaps he was working for the Arthians.  That would explain 
how they got the designs for the giant crossbow," suggested Kobalix.
 "Maybe he realized what he had done, only too late and killed himself."
	"It doesn't matter.  We didn't lose any minotaurs in the battle," 
said Gwen.  "Tell Damoti to order more assault towers built, and to 
speed up the assembly of those giant crossbows."
	Kobalix nodded.  His spy in Athex had barely sent the message
 in time for him to change his plans.  The fact that the Arthians had the 
giant crossbow changed his plans drastically, but, nevertheless, he had 
nothing to worry about.  Everything was going as planned.



		"I've decided to use an assembly line.  We can 
manufacture them three times faster, though the quality and aim might 
be a little less," explained Damoti.
	"When will you be done?" asked Gwen.
	"Less than four days," replied Damoti.  "I've received reports 
that the Stornium Army and Blackaxe's army will arrive in two or three
 days.  With your permission, we could meet them in the field and 
destroy them."
	"Perhaps."
	"You said you had information where that other army is from?"
 said Kobalix, though he already knew the answer.
	"It belongs to a King Waytorn, where he's from the spies aren't
 sure, but they say his army is practiced killers, perfectionists at the art 
of killing.  They lack morals and embrace killing whole heartedly."
	"Kobalix struggled not to smile.  He feigned paleness.  "How 
many?"
	"The spies predict four hundred thousand.   We might need
 some allies if we expect to win."
	"What if I found a way to get rid of this Waytorn's army?" 
asked Kobalix.  "And what would the Arthians do if we attacked the 
Stornium armies?"
	"I don't see how you could get rid of Waytorn's army.  But if 
we attacked the Storniums the Arthians would probably rush out into
 the field to assist them.  That could be a potential trap."
	"I'll handle the allies.  Ice Folk attacking Kinian and Tigalos 
mercenaries attacking Stornium.  Skip building those crossbows.  Dig
 ditches and start fortifying this hill," ordered Kobalix, standing up.
	"Where are you going?" Gwen asked.
	"I've heard of Waytorn before.  He has an enemy north of here.
  If I can convince that army to attack, we can distract him."



		"Skip the damn formalities, Willium," roared King Sear, 
sitting down.  Gathered in the dining hall was Sahos, Pegs, Elexenia,
 Jacog, Dillard, Gisoni, Pollex, Victoria, Willium, Pothax, Nebonex, 
Rades, Stornium General Chek, and Waytorn.  Also present was 
several of the princes and princesses of Kinian plus a young blond 
man with a big nose, emerald eyes, and dressed in a simple tunic and
 pants.  Sear had introduced him as Derick.
	"My men tell me that Empress Gwen had forbidden the use of 
black dirt, and that the Lord Marshall killed himself after disobeying her 
orders," said Waytorn, absently rubbing his scars.
	"Whatever the case, they now know we have giant crossbows,
 but it was the price we had to pay," said Dillard.  "What I'd like to 
know is how they knew we were aiming at the assault towers and 
abandoned them so quickly? They must have had a spy somewhere in 
the city!"
	"Never mind that!  Waytorn," said Nebonex.  "Could your and 
your men handle the water front?  All of it?"
	"Easily."
	"Good," Nebonex said, turning to King Sear.  "Sear, you're in
 command of both your army and the knights?"
	"We don't believe in Field Marshals.  Kinian monarchs prefer 
to know exactly what's going on," replied Sear.
	"You can be in charge of Northgate.  Sahos, general Chek, the
 two of you can handle Westgate, I presume?"
	Sahos and Chek glanced at each other and nodded.
	"Dillard, Gisoni, you will join Pegs in defending Southgate," 
Nebonex ordered.  "Pothax.  Could you and a few of Waytorn's men
 sneak into the minotaur's camp and tamper with their giant crossbows. 
 I want that delayed if possible!"
	"Of course I can," replied Pothax confidently.
	One of Waytorn's henchmen was admitted by a guard, and he
 spoke at great length to Waytorn apart from the rest.  The King 
Culprit dismissed the man and returned to his seat slightly pale.  "We 
have another army against us," he said sourly.
	Everyone was shouting at once until King Sear finally lost his 
temper and screamed:  "Fermez votre bouche!"  Everyone stopped 
and stared at him.
	"That's better," he said.  "Waytorn, please explain."
	Kobalix has recruited three hundred thousand mercenaries 
and has been keeping them in Kaliff until now.  He has them about 
twenty leagues out in the centre of Vormian lake, waiting for a signal
 from him," explained Waytorn.
	"Do you think you can hold the water front?" asked Willium 
worried.
	"Oh, yes.  Nothing could get past us, but if they come ashore
 the rest of you are in trouble."
	"There's nothing we can do until the Storniums arrive," sighed
 Nebonex.  "We'll meet again tomorrow morning in case anything else
 comes up."



		Victoria," yelled Willium.
	"What she asked, turning in the doorway of the dining hall.
	"This is Lord Redhawk's squire.  He's just finished his training,
 and he arrived with King Sear.  Could you and Pothax take care of 
him?" he asked, gesturing to Derick.  "Until Redhawk returns?"
	"Sure, come on, Derick.  Devid, Wynic's retainer has the night
 off so we'll have to go to a tavern if you want to eat."  The squire 
nodded silently and followed.



		"Hey Billip!  Dinner and a bottle of Kinian Red for me
 and the lad here," yelled Victoria, standing in the doorway of the 
Drunken Dragon Tavern.  Making her way through the crowded room
 to her favorite booth, she waved at Rades in the booth next to her's.
	Billip bustled over to them, set down two plates of food, a 
bottle of wine and two clay goblets.  the plates were almost over-
flowing with fish, corn, fresh garlic bread, and the specialty, onion
 rings dipped in batter.
	"You're going to eat those!" exclaimed Derick, after Billip
 waddled away.
	"These?" said Victoria, pointing at the onion rings.  "They're
 quite good.  Try some," she offered.
	"They're covered with fat!"
	"Well, I suppose they are, but they taste good.  Why do you
 care?"
	"I'm an apprentice doctor."
	"I thought you were a squire?"
	"Um, I'm both.  My pa wanted me to be a squire, because he
 was a squire to the Redhawks and his father before him also.  It's sort
 of a tradition."
	"Why both?"
	"I agreed with my pa that I'd carry on the tradition, if he allowed
 me to be apprenticed to the local doctor, until I was old enough to be
 a squire."
	"Why'd he let you?"
	"He thought that if I knew how to bandage wounds, and know
 where the heart, the lungs, and the liver was, that I'd be a more 
effective squire.  He was quite proud of that."
	"So what's this got to do with me eating onion rings?"
	"They're not good for you."
	"Would you prefer if I gorged myself on candy?"
	"Well-"
	Victoria shoved an onion ring in his mouth.  "Now don't spit
 it out, it's bad table manners and I'd probably slap you if you did!"
	Derick shut his mouth, and chewed.  A grin slowly edged 
itself across his face and he reached for more onion rings.



		Rades smiled at D'arcy and stood up.  He helped her 
into the booth and sat down across from her.  "Shall we eat?" he asked, 
looking at her admiringly.
	D'arcy smiled and nodded.  She was wearing a red, almost
 crimson, dress.  It was cut low above her breasts and there was a
 cut up the side to display her shapely, long legs.  She was barefoot,
 Rades noticed suddenly when her foot touched his boot under the
 table.
	"Good, I've already ordered.  I hope you like venison?"
	"I love it!" she smiled and giggled.  Rades felt his face go red, 
again.
	Later that night, Rades paid the bill, waved to Victoria who'd 
waved at him earlier, and led D'arcy outside to get some fresh air.  
The lieutenant was barely out the door when D'arcy practically threw
 herself onto him, her lips clinging to his.  He pulled apart from her, 
reluctantly.  "Not here," he whispered lustfully.
	D'arcy giggled and grabbed his hand.  She led him down the
 street to an inn, where within minutes they were within each other's 
comforting embrace.  
	D'arcy pulled the drawstring of her dress and slipped the 
garment over her head, revealing creamy, white breasts.  She pulled 
Rades closer and began untying his shirt.  She moaned softly as Rades 
reached down between her legs and hucked the petticoat up around 
her hips.  Her skin was silky soft to the touch.
	The lieutenant groaned softly as she pulled his belt off and 
lipped a eager hand into his pants.  The two lovers made love well into
 the night until they collapsed, exhausted in each others arms.



		"Someone's coming," whispered Pothax, diving behind
 a giant crossbow.  Waytorn's men instantly, hid behind the other giant
 crossbows.
	 The sound of approaching minotaurs was quite unnerving, and
 Pothax held his breathe, when a group of fifty minotaurs passed by him. 
 Breathing a sigh of relief, Pothax motioned the rest to follow him. 
	Passing by a tent, he heard two minotaurs arguing.  One of the 
voices were familiar.  "Go ahead, I'll catch up," he ordered.  Waytorn's
 men silently acknowledged him, and crept away into the darkness.
	Putting his ear up to the canvas, Pothax listened.
	"Just follow your orders.  I want you to shoot her as soon as 
she steps onto the rostrum.  You'll lead anybody who follows you to 
the other side of the camp, hide, and change back into your uniform.
 Then you'll join in pursuing yourself.  No one will suspect you, and I'll 
pay you in full," explained the familiar voice, sounding irritated.
	"What if the Empress doesn't make a speech tomorrow?" asked 
a plaintive voice.
	"Then we'll wait, won't we?" said the first voice.  The voice that 
sounded like Nebonex.
	Looking around the corner of the tent, Pothax watched Kobalix
 step out.



		Rades felt movement to his side, and the sensation of 
being lifted.  One eye fluttered open.  Only to be punched.  Punched?
	"Was ist es?" he shouted in old Stornium, struggling.
	"Oh, shit-"
	Rades felt a hard jarring impact as he landed.  The floor was 
cold and the fact he was naked didn't help.  He forced his eyes open 
and swung around blindly in the dark.  His fist made contact with a
 knee.
	A large form fell over him, but he managed to crawl out from 
under the struggling form.  He swung around blindly, this time feeling 
something familiar; D'arcy's breast.
	She slapped him, and he fell backwards into the wall.  Shaking
 his head, the Stornium leapt forward, blindly, and connected a fist with
 someone's face.
	Someone shuffled off to one side and he swung out at the sound. 
 Instead, his fist connected solidly with a stone wall.  He slowly forced
 himself to ignore the pain in his hand and concentrate on the pain in his
 back after someone hit him with the flat of a sword.  He flailed around 
wildly, connecting with a head.
	His eyes were finally beginning to adjust to the light.  D'arcy 
appeared before him, anger in her eyes, and punched him in the chin.
	Rades barely flinched.  His hand snaked out and grabbed hold 
of her.  "What are you doing?" he yelled.
	D'arcy snarled and flailed at his face, scratching him.
	The Stornium promptly knocked her over the head.  She fell into
 his arms unconscious.  Now that he could see, he glanced around in 
what appeared to be a wine cellar.  A chair with rope slung over it
 beckoned to him and he laid her there, tying her firmly.  Two men and 
a tall woman lay scattered around the room.  He tied them up too.
	He fell asleep wondering at how she had spied on him, 
betrayed him, and seduced him.  He felt like a fool.

Chapter 21
		Empress," hissed Pothax from beneath his hood.
	"Enter," said a female voice.
	"I'm one of your subjects, Empress," lied Pothax, entering, 
and looking around.  "But, I'm not a minotaur."  
	The Empress sat on a thick fur rug, and was shrouded in 
shadows so much that the only things Pothax could tell was that she
 was amazingly tall, and muscular.  She was preparing a speech by 
candlelight.  "Get to the point," she snarled.
	"Don't go up on the rostrum tomorrow to make your speech. 
Several of your officers are traitors and are plotting against you," 
Pothax half-lied.
	"Who?" she said, standing up suddenly.
	"You wouldn't believe me," he replied.
	"That was an order man," she roared, drawing a huge scimitar 
from the harness on her back.
	Pothax bowed his head in what he hoped looked like shame.  
"Archduke Kobalix.  I fear he has been led astray," he replied in a sulky
 voice.
	"What?"
	"Believe me, Empress.  I'm an assassin myself.  I overheard 
Kobalix talking with another assassin.  He hired him to kill you, so I
 decided to warn you."
	"How, and where did you overhear this?" Gwen ordered.
	"I was in a tavern, in Athex, where I'm staying currently.  There
 are many job opportunities during a war.  I overheard them talking in 
one of the backrooms," lied Pothax, bowing his head again.
	"I don't believe that part about Kobalix being a traitor, but I'll 
stay off the rostrum for the rest of the week," said Gwen, looking down
 thoughtfully.  When she looked back up, he was gone.



		Rades awoke to find that his prisoners were dead.  
Cyanide pills from what little he knew of spies judging from the foam in
 several of their mouths.  He sat in the room for a long time thinking.  
Why?  He didn't know if he even wanted an answer.


		"Your ingenuity is a credit to your kind.  In a way, I'm
 proud," said Nebonex.  "Thank you Pothax.  You most likely saved 
my mother's life."
	"Thank you," replied Pothax with a crude bow.
	"Try relaxing when you bow," suggested Jacog.  "You're too 
stiff.  You have to be more graceful."
	"I'm an assassin.  After years of danger it's impossible to relax,
 otherwise you end up dead."
	"Sire?" inquired Gith, opening the door to the dining hall, and 
peering in.
	"Yes, Gith," replied Willium. 
	"There's a messenger for you from Lord Blackaxe, he barely
 made it through alive.  So if you'll excuse me, I'll go fetch him some-
thing to eat," the retainer said and left for the kitchen.
	Victoria leaned back in her chair so she could see out into the
 hall.  The messenger was almost as tall as Nebonex with broad
 shoulders. He was wearing a bloodstained yellow tunic and baggy
 black pants.  He was literally covered in bruises and small cuts.  
Getting past the minotaurs camped around Athex had been harder 
than it looked.
	"Come in lieutenant," ordered General Chek.
	"The messenger walked in, bowed respectfully to King Sear, 
King Willium, Nebonex and Queen Elexenia, who sat with princess 
Darylinn on her lap.
	"That's how you bow," whispered Jacog to Pothax.
	"I have several message for you.  Lord Redhawk wishes to 
announce his betrothal to Queen Helen," the lieutenant paused as 
everyone gasped and continued.  "Lord Blackaxe says they'll be here 
in less than a day, and that Wynic found the Swathick Axe," he paused
 again for more gasps.  "And this is for Lady Victoria from General 
Wynic," he said, taking a folded and sealed piece of parchment from 
his tunic.
	"I'm Victoria," said Victoria, standing up and taking the letter 
eagerly.
	"How'd Wynic find the Swathick Axe?" demanded King Sear.
	"There are many rumours, though the most common is he 
retrieved it with the help of a pirate.  However, there's a more popular 
story that he assassinated a sea demon and stole the axe."
	"Why'd he need the axe in the first place?" asked Dillard.  
"Wynic doesn't even know how to use a war axe properly."
	"That's something I can't even guess at, since he gave the axe
 to Lord Blackaxe," answered the lieutenant.
	"Here, lieutenant," said Gith, returning with a tray of fresh 
bread, fried potatoes and eggs.  Gith glanced at Nebonex, and left.
	The lieutenant sat down at one of the curved tables, and began
 stuffing food into his mouth.  King Willium grimaced when the 
lieutenant began stuffing the bread with egg and potatoes like a person
 stuffing a turkey.  However his mouth started to water  when the 
soldier lifted the stuffed loaf of bread, and eating it with his bare hands.
	"Skip it, Willium.  The courtiers would refuse to eat with their 
hands, and if you did it, some of the older, more conservative ones 
would have a heart attack," laughed Rades.
	"That's not funny," said Derick.
	"Maybe for you!" laughed Gisoni.
	Derick pouted.
	"How'd Redhawk get hitched?" asked Elexenia abruptly.
	"I don't know-I've never even-seen Queen Helen," the lieutenant 
said between mouthfuls.  "I imagine he was struck down by her beauty, 
or something like that.  I'm not a poet!"
	"I never even thought of Redhawk being the marrying type," 
admitted Dillard.  "He's always been the bachelor type."



	Dear Victoria:
		I suppose the messenger didn't explain, in detail, what's
 happened since last we touched, so I will.  The four of us were 
ambushed in a forest north of the Stornium border.  Did General 
Chek tell you already?  Oh well!  He and his army arrived at the last
 minute and scared off the minotaurs.
	We arrived in Glist, and Redhawk was struck dumb by Queen
 Helen's extraordinary beauty, which is pale compared to you of course.
  Redhawk stayed with Helen and she agreed to send her army and knights.
	I continued on to Castle Blackaxe, where Blaxkaxe told me that 
he couldn't go until he found the Swathick Axe.  He's been obsessed
 with the weapon for years!  So I recruited a friend of mine and set off
 to a point in Bone Sea following an obscure map of Blackaxe's.  With 
much luck, we retrieved the axe from Bone Sea.
	When returning to Castle Blackaxe with the axe, we went by a 
waterspout, sort of like a watery tornado.  We barely arrived at Castle
 Blackaxe, and myself and a very happy Lord Blackaxe rode from there
 to Glist.
	Redhawk told us of his betrothal to Queen Helen and I lost my 
bet with Lord Blackaxe.  I was as surprised as I imagine you are!
	Upon returning to Arthian however, I was greeted by something
 different.  Every castle, village, and town had been ravaged by 
minotaurs.  They had been very thorough, leaving only the peasant 
houses and carnage behind.  Blackaxe estimated thirty thousand dead, 
but I think it's at least twice that.  
	Kobalix is definitely not getting reincarnated, because he's not 
even going to have a soul left when all of Arthian's through with him,
 not to mention what Nebonex and the Empress will do to him.  And for
 some chance they don't get him, I will.
	Too bad you can't tell me all that's happened in Athex since I left,
 but oh well, I'll be there in a day or so.
							All my love,
							Wynic Doxon
	Setting the letter down, Victoria looked around her empty room.
  She didn't know what to think or do.



		The walls of the city were strangely quiet that day.  The 
minotaur army was just beyond the hills; it was also strangely quiet.  The
 soldier on the walls thought this was a good thing, but anyone who 
understood sieges, would know that it was bad, because very soon, and
 probably very suddenly, the true fighting would start.  Dillard knew, and
 understood all this, but he knew it was too, too quiet also.  After staring 
south for about two hours, he finally went to talk to Gisoni, hoping he'd 
know what the minotaurs were planning.



		"Pollex noticed it too and mentioned it to me.  There's
 no smoke coming from their camp, and if I didn't know better I'd say
 they'd packed up and left," said Gisoni.
	Dillard looked up at the huge minotaur.  "We could send 
Pothax or one of Waytorn's men out there to check it out," he suggested.
	"What's this about me?"
	Dillard and Gisoni whirled about in unison to stare at the silent 
Pothax.  "It's usually quiet before a major battle, but this is too quiet," 
explained an unnerved Gisoni.  "We want to send you or one of 
Waytorn's men out there to investigate."
	"Do you have a long rope?  I could go right now."
	"Gisoni, go find a rope, I'll go find Rades, he can go too.  He's
 a fair fighter," said Sir Dillard.
	"He's over there, talking to Victoria and Pegs," Pothax said,
 pointing to the west, where the Stornium Army and the Arthian Army met.



		"Stay here," ordered Pothax.  "You'll stick out like a 
sore thumb in your uniform," he said, getting down on his belly and 
crawling forward.  Reaching the top of the hill, Pothax stood up, and
 started swearing.
	"What is it?" cried Rades, disobeying orders and sprinting 
forward to join him.
	"They're gone!"


		"They've fortified the ridge to the south-west, and 
Waytorn says he saw an explosion south of here," Gisoni explained.
 "They're planning on attacking the Stornium forces obviously."
	"We desperately need those men," said Victoria.  "If we lose 
them, we're doomed."
	"Victoria's right, we'll have to abandon the city walls and take
 to the field."
	King Sear, King Willium, Nebonex, Jacog, Gisoni, Pollex, 
sub-lieutenant General of the Minotaur Army Bates, Pegs, sub-Marshall 
of the Arthian Army Finesia, Victoria, Sahos, Colonel Udan from the
 Colnic Army, general Chek, lieutenant-general Marian of the 
Stornium Army, Rades, Waytorn, Pothax, Derick, Devid and Gith were
 all present in the dining hall.  Victoria had asked Devid to come and help
 Gith at the place, since she and Pothax had been spending so much time
 there.
	"Desert Athex?" protested Finesia.  She was a tall muscular 
woman, so tall that she could look Gisoni straight in the eye.  She 
always spoke her opinion openly and bluntly.
	"We're not deserting it, but we are taking some men off the 
walls.  There was an explosion that was probably a signal to Kobalix's 
fleet," explained Pegs in his gruff voice.
	"Devid, bring me the map of Athex I gave you," said Victoria,
 standing up.  The retainer returned a moment later and handed her the 
rolled up map to her.  "Okay," she said, unrolling the map on the table 
and pinning the corners down with a few of Pothax's daggers.  "Who
 agrees with me that the knights are best fighting out in the open?"
	"Everyone should know nobody can beat a knight on open
 ground, Victoria!" protested Willium.  "What are you talking about?"
	"Well, then, all the knights are going to be on the assault force 
going to attack the ridge.  Now who else do we take to guard their
 flanks?" she asked.
	"Add the Storniums to your list," said general Chek.
	"That gives us a total of 135 thousand soldiers," said Nebonex, 
standing up beside Victoria.
	"Add the Kinian Army to it," said King Sear.  "If we have 265
 thousand and the Stornium's have 285, and with the Colnics, we'll have
 just enough men to force a retreat."
	"It's perfect," said Gisoni.
	"It leaves us with just enough to defend Athex properly against 
Kobalix's men," said Waytorn, his face shining from what Willium
 thought was bloodlust.
	"I want everyone who's going waiting at Southgate in one hour. 
 If you're not there, we leave without you," ordered Nebonex.



		"What are you doing Willium?  You can't go!" protested 
Victoria, riding up beside Sir Dillard.  "You talk to him, Dillard.  He 
won't listen to me!" she snorted.
	"If King Sear can go, I can go," said the King stubbornly.
	"See!" the archeress snorted.
	"Skip it Victoria.  You can't change a mule!" laughed Dillard. 
Willium raised an eyebrow, but still stubbornly wouldn't leave.
	"Hey!  How'd Nebonex learn to ride?" asked Willium, pointing
 at the Prince astride a huge warhorse.
	"Elexenia and I taught him while we were teaching Darylinn.  
He's a quick learner and really quite skilled at it," Victoria explained.
	The ten foot thick granite gates started to screech slowly open,
 allowing knights to pour through the gap.  Slowly, more and more 
knights began to pour out onto the Arthian plain, until the combined 
army started to make their way to the south west.



		"They appear to be blocking us Lord Blackaxe, 
General Sardias," reported the scout.
	"How?" asked Sardias, flexing her sword arm.
	"They've fortified a small ridge, however the ridge runs for 
quite a distance north and south," explained the scout.
	"Sir Glac," she ordered.  "Form up your knights, we'll charge 
through that low spot there," she pointed to a dip in the ridge.  Blackaxe
 will guard your flanks and my army will follow and clean up any 
survivors and guard your backs," she ordered.
	Blackaxe saluted and rode forward to find Redhawk and 
Wynic.

Chapter 22
		"Wynic, Redhawk, the minotaur army is blocking us. 
We have to guard the knights flanks.  I sent my general to take care of 
the basics.  Wynic will you explain Redhawk's plan again in simpler
 terms?" asked Lord Blackaxe, riding up to join the knight and assassin.
	"We find the Empress, somehow convince her that Kobalix is 
a traitor, and she gives the order to stop fighting," explained Wynic.
	"How will we find her?"
	"The headquarters are usually at the highest point so the leaders
 can see for quite a distance, so that's where we start looking," 
explained Redhawk.
	"They're also the hardest to get to," grumbled Blackaxe.
	That's where that axe comes in," said Wynic.  "Besides, 
everyone will probably follow us, sort of like herding sheep," said 
Wynic, drawing Gith's bastardsword.
	"And how do we convince the Empress?"
	"That's my problem," said Wynic confidently.



		"Empress, Kobalix is missing," yelled Mathex, rushing
 into the Empress' tent.  He looked around for her desperately.
	"What?  Of all the times for him to disappear!" shouted Gwen
 with an oath.
	"Empress?" asked Mathex cautiously.
	"What?"
	"I hope you don't mind, but I don't trust Kobalix," he muttered.
  He bowed his head.
	"I've been having similar feelings lately," she said beneath her
 breath.  "Form a party to search for him."
	"Yes, Empress," Mathex saluted and departed.
	"Damoti!" Gwen yelled.
	"Yes," said the Lord Marshall, appearing in the doorway.
	"Give the order to attack!"


		The Stornium knights charged down the southern hill,
 and began charging up the ridge.  he thing that made knights so
 powerful on the open field was the lance.  The speed and power of the 
warhorses were so great that it easily crunched through the thickest of 
armour to impale the enemy.  Thirty thousand Stornium knights left
 behind a wide trail of dead or dying.  Wynic marveled at the sheer 
destruction such a force could accomplish.
	Blackaxe's lance broke off and he discarded it with a practiced
 twist of his arm, leaving the lance imbedded in a dying minotaur.  
Drawing the Swathick Axe, Blackaxe stood up in the stirrups, and 
roared a harsh warcry.
	Taking Blackaxe's right flank, Wynic motioned Redhawk to
 take the left flank.  	Discarding his lance, Redhawk drew his sword 
and pointed to the north with it.  "That way," he yelled.
	Wynic didn't hear him from all the cries of dying, but he 
understood.  The trio began fighting towards the north and highest 
point in the ridge.



		King Willium proved to be a better fighter than Victoria
 had thought he was.  His blade flashed back and forth quickly, almost 
a blur.  He didn't put much strength into his swings, it was mostly with
 speed that killed Willium's opponents.  Whatever the case, the King 
left a trail of dead behind him.
	Nebonex, Dillard, and Victoria had decided to stay with 
Willium just in case.
	"Do we have any sort of plan?" shouted Victoria, gutting a 
minotaur.
	"Do you see that scarlet tent at the top of the ridge?  It's my
 mother's.  If we get there, we might be able to get this over with the 
least blood spilled possible," Nebonex shouted back.  There were 
tears in his eyes.
	"Death to the traitors!" shouted an arrogant minotaur, running
 towards Nebonex
	"Guard my flanks," Nebonex ordered.  "It's time for a speech."
	"In the middle of a battle?" cried Willium.
	Nebonex tore off his helm with horn slots and threw it at the 
arrogant minotaur, knocking him out.  "Fellow minotaurs," he boomed.
  Everyone stopped, and the plain was deathly silent, except for anyone
 that was too far away.  "Do you recognize me?  Yes!  I am Nebonex 
the IX, future Emperor of the Minotaur Empire.  Would you fight me?"
 he boomed.  Silence.
	"Kobalix is a traitor," he added.  He knew minotaurs were 
loyal to the Royal family, they'd never harm a prince.
	A crossbow bolt shot forward, but missed by a good two feet.
  The offending minotaur was almost instantly teared apart by his 
comrades.
	"Glory to the Minotaur Empire," someone shouted.
	"Escort me to my mother," Nebonex ordered.
	"Not much of a speech," said Willium as the minotaurs parted
 to let Nebonex, Dillard, Victoria, and Willium pass.
	"I figured I'd get to the point.  Lives depend on it."



		Wynic's horse fell down, exhausted and wounded.  
Wynic leapt from the horse and plunged his sword through a minotaurs 
chest.  He pulled his blade free and parried another attacker's blade.
  The two combatants stood locked in a test of strength until Wynic 
kneed the minotaur in the stomach.
	As the minotaur relaxed its grip and gasped, Wynic pulled a 
dagger from a sheath with his left hand and slit the minotaurs throat.
	Blackaxe had taken to swinging his axe in wide overhand arcs.
 Since the axe met with no real resistance, every swing was deadly.  
"Wynic," he grunted.  "Now I know where the word cutthroat literally
 comes from."
	"Was that supposed to be funny?" asked Wynic, mounting an
 abandoned horse.
	"I'm pretty sure that minotaur didn't find it funny," Blackaxe 
grunted.  "I'm getting tired of swinging," he said, switching hands.
	Several minutes later the trio had fought their way to the top 
of the ridge only to find it deserted.  "Where is everybody?" asked 
Redhawk, looking around.
	"Right here!" shouted a harsh voice.
	Redhawk cried out when a spear came soaring towards him. 
Wynic closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the bastardsword.  
Redhawk screamed as the spear entered his right shoulder and he fell 
from the saddle.  Blood flowed freely from the wound.
	Wynic roared.  Turning around, he saw a minotaur dressed in 
shiny red and black armour and a dark gray cloak.  He was carrying 
two huge matching scimitars.
	Leaping from the saddle, Wynic caught the minotaur off guard 
and made a slash at the minotaurs stomach.
	"Damn you, Wynic," screamed the minotaur as the blade bit into
 his chain mail, ripping a chunk of armour away.
	Four more minotaurs dressed in gray armour leapt from their
 hiding places and swarmed Blackaxe. The knight stood over Redhawk's
 prone form defending his injured friend.
	"Kobalix," said someone softly.
	"I'm busy, Gweneleque.  Can't you see that?" yelled Wynic's 
opponent.
	"Where have you been?" said the Empress, appearing in the 
doorway to her tent.
	"Kobalix," screamed Wynic.  "You killed Nebonex!" He made 
a fierce slash at the minotaur's arm.
	"Kobalix," yelled Prince Nebonex, appearing from behind a 
tent with Dillard, Victoria and Willium.
	Kobalix looked up and started to slowly retreat.  Suddenly 
he turned and fled, his long minotaur legs and great speed easily taking
 him out of sight.
	Wynic started to follow, but Victoria grabbed him and he 
suddenly found himself weeping in her arms.



		"Can you help him?" asked Victoria, worried.  
Blackaxe and Nebonex had carried Redhawk back to the barracks 
where the wounded were being tended to.  Gweneleque had ordered
 the battle to a stop and now both armies were searching for Kobalix.
	"Well," said Derick.  "The spear point broke and it's lodged 
in his shoulder bone.  I'm just an apprentice, so I'm not sure if I remove
 it whether he'll end up crippled or not."
	"So he will live?" asked a pale Wynic.
	"He should, depends on how much blood he lost?"
	"I'd say about a bucket's worth," said Gwen.  Derick paled 
visibly.
	"He'll make it," promised Derick.  "Perhaps you all should go
 up to the walls.  Nebonex is having a meeting up there.  Victoria can
 stay, I'll need her help."
	Wynic bowed his head and turned to leave.
	"I told you I'd die in battle," said Redhawk in a dry voice.
	Wynic knelt down beside his friend.  "We'll drink again my 
friend, and live to have many more battles," he promised.  Standing 
up, he turned to Victoria.  "Give him some wine," he smiled sadly.  
"To ease the pain."



		"They didn't really attack," explained Waytorn.  "It 
was all a distraction so we would divide up our forces.  More people
 die that way.  They marched around the city and went north to that
 cove of Kobalix's."
	"I estimate that we have only five hundred thousand minotaurs
 left.  Kobalix's tricks will be remembered for years to come," said 
Damoti.  "How much do you have left?"
	"Ninety thousand," said Chek and Sardias in unison.
	"About twenty thousand," mumbled Sir Glac.
	"A little over 150 thousand," muttered Blackaxe.
	"120 thousand," said King Sear sadly.  He took off his helmet
 solemnly.
	"50 thousand," said Sir Dillard.  "That's for both Colnics and 
Arthians."
	"That adds up to about 1.5 million," said Wynic.  "We 
outnumber Kobalix's forces.  We've won!"
	"Not if Kobalix uses black dirt," said Mathex, "And I'll bet my
 horns that he will!"

Chapter 23
		"Apparently Kobalix chose that cove for three reasons,
 it is easily defensible and hard to get to because of all the cliffs.  
However, it also has a citadel that dates back to the Last Vormian 
Dynasty," said Pothax, drawing a crude map with a piece of charcoal 
and parchment.
	"How high are the walls?" demanded Willium.
	"Well over a hundred feet."
	Willium swore.
	"What is it?" asked Victoria with a glance at the map.
	"Back before the Fall, one of the Vormian Emperors built some
 of the greatest cities in the world, including Athex.  He was obsessed 
with vastness and his castles and fortresses could be seen leagues
 away.  To help in the building he started exploring ways to better use
 black dirt, for construction purposes of course.  He got the black dirt
 from a cave, which was in a pit with steep walls.  To make it easier to
 get at the cave he had a tunnel dug so wagons could go down the
 tunnel, get loaded up with black dirt, and be transported to the Capitol,
 which had a population much like Athex does now.  He had a huge 
citadel built to defend the cave and where he could mix the ingredients
 from the cave: sulphur, charcoal and saltpeter.  Supposedly, when one
 of the wagons caught fire it caused a domino reaction until it reached 
the warehouses where the black dirt was kept," explained Willium.
	"Enough to leave a crater that later turned into Lake Vormia,"
 concluded Dillard.
	"So Athex and this mine barely escaped the disaster?" asked 
Gisoni.
	"If the explosion had reached the mine shaft and if the three 
ingredients were close enough together, which it nearly did, it would 
have blown Arthian and parts of Colnic sky high," said Mathex.  "That's
 assuming they'd only mined it halfway.  Who knows how much could 
be down there?"
	"In other words, if we attack this cove Kobalix will threaten to
 destroy Arthian," concluded Sahos.  "If we go there with a large force
 and demand that he surrender, that's what he'll do!"
	"Are you suggesting something in alternative? asked Jacog.
	"I was about to!  We send a group of warriors in there, past 
Kobalix's men, capture Kobalix and somehow collapse that mine shaft.
  Permanently if possible," explained Sahos.
	"Wouldn't it be easier just sending our armies in there?" asked 
Sardias"
	"Not if Kobalix decides to destroy Arthian if he sees anything 
remotely resembling an army."  Sahos looked pointedly at Wynic and 
Pothax.  "I believe the Doxon's will go."
	Wynic started to object, but Dillard poked him in the ribs.  
"Rades and I'll go," he said with a glance at the lieutenant.  Rades 
nodded enthusiastically.
	"Okay, who else do we send?" demanded Nebonex, once 
again assuming command.
	"You've grown my son," murmured Gwen thoughtfully beneath 
her breath.
	"Blackaxe and his Swathick Axe for sure!" said Pegs.
	"All who want to volunteer, raise your hand," said Victoria.  
She raised her hand.
	Derick, Waytorn and Sardias all raised their hands.  "I'll bring
 twenty of my finest killers," promised Waytorn.
	"Um, Sardias," said Wynic, "did you draft the Stornium Navy
 and bring them too?"
	"Of course, desperate times call for desperate measures."
	"Good, add Commodore Carlo to the list then.  Blackaxe, find
 a Brigadier Roreed and a Colonel Eluth.  I could trust those three with
 the universe without a second thought."
	"Good," said Nebonex, "thirty-two warriors should be able to 
handle the task.  I trust you all will be ready by tomorrow morning?"



		"Quit complaining," snapped Wynic.  Pothax, Victoria, 
the assassin and Devid had all linked hands underneath Redhawk and 
were carrying the huge knight up stairs.  Derick had went ahead of them
 with several servants to clear anything out of the way for the group.
 Wynic had already tripped over a  Third Dynasty vase and broke it.
	"Who's going to take care of me if Derick leaves?" asked 
Redhawk plaintively.
	"Your squire has instructed me of what to do.  I'm to clean 
the wound daily with boiled water and rebandage it with clean strips 
of rough cloth," grunted Devid.  "And he also told me to change your 
diet, because you're getting fat."
	"Am not!" protested Redhawk.
	"Are too!" said everyone carrying Redhawk in unison.
	"But I need food to keep my strength up," he protested.
	"You don't need that much.  I've seen pigs that don't eat half 
as much as you," grunted Pothax, warily stepping over a vase a 
servant had neglected to move.
	"Actually," said Derick.  "I've instructed Devid to only feed 
you a paste, which I gave him the recipe for.  I've tried the paste and
 it tastes like pig slop!"
	"I wish I was dead," moaned Redhawk.



		"I'm not a baby, I can walk," shouted Redhawk, feebly
 pushing Derick away.
	"The last time you tried you fell flat on your face," laughed 
Derick. pushing Redhawk back into bed.
	"I tripped-"
	"-on your own leg," finished Derick.  "I saw you.  You looked
 like a new born colt taking it's first steps."
	"Don't argue, Redhawk," said Victoria, entering with Pothax. 
"Derick's leaving instructions to restrain you if you try to walk.  So if I 
were you, I'd stay in bed, and take advantage of it."
	Redhawk grumbled and laid back down in his bed."
	"Now you behave yourself," she teased and kissed him on the 
cheek.  "Gisoni is here to see you," Victoria murmured.  
	The minotaur entered, ducking under the doorway while the 
rest passed by him to go meet Wynic downstairs.  The huge minotaur
 seemed awkward sitting down into the chair beside Redhawk's bed.
 "Your squire says you barely survived that operation," mumbled the 
minotaur.
	"Yes, he told me."
	"I've had many friends die over the years, Redhawk.  Very
 rarely did they survive a serious injury like you did.  You're damn 
lucky!"  Gisoni sighed.  "What is a knight?" he asked.
	"What do you mean?"
	"What do have to do to become one?"
	"You have to prove skill, professional training and-"
	"That's not what I meant."
	"Oh, you mean..." said Redhawk laboriously.  "A noble heart
 Gisoni, nothing more."
	"Lady Bardelias is a noble and from what I've seen of her-"
	"I don't mean you have be of the nobility.  I mean that you 
are loyal, trustworthy, patriotic, unbending and unmovable from your
 station.  A solid rock, too heavy to move, if you like metaphors."
	"Am I a rock?" asked Gisoni.
	"Gisoni, from all the minotaurs I've seen, and from their 
incredible loyalty to the Empire, I'd say all minotaurs, with the exception
 of Kobalix, deserve to be knights.  And you are probably a truer 
knight than I am.  Which is hard to admit because it hurts to speak," 
said Redhawk.  "In fact if you asked the Empress,  I believe she'd 
look into the matter of setting up a Knighthood based on something."
	"What is yours based on?"
	"The Kinian Knights? Ours is based on justice, and truth.  The
 Colnic's base theirs on devotion to their heritage," explained Redhawk. 
"The Arthian's base theirs on bravery and loyalty to the Lord and the 
King.  The Stornium's base theirs on whatever they feel like defending,
 each other, their homeland, their family.
	"The Storniums are wise," noted Gisoni.  "Family is much more
 important than a heritage, bravery and perhaps even justice."



		"Farewell my friend," said Wynic, taking Redhawk's 
hand.  "I feel like I owe you something I can't possibly pay for.  You 
met me in a back alley in the slums of Avolic.  You helped me to learn
 to write and to fight professionally.  Now I can read, I've been fully
 trained in swordsmanship, and you taught me life is worth living.  To
 the fullest."
	"You're too stubborn to die in the first place," laughed 
Redhawk.
	Wynic smiled.  "You better be well when I get back, because
 I'm going to get you for that one!"
	"I don't doubt it!"



		"Your black eye has disappeared," noted Victoria, 
checking her arrows for cracks.
	"You noticed?" laughed Wynic, mounting his horse.
	Victoria smiled.  "With all the excitement, and everything, I 
haven't been noticing much lately," she laughed, half at herself.
	Wynic looked around quickly, and spotted Gith talking to 
Derick.  Clicking his tongue, he nudged his horse towards them.
	"Good day, sire," said Gith, looking up at Wynic with a smile.
	"Good day, Gith.  Tell me, have you finished that portrait of 
Victoria?" asked the assassin, glancing back at Victoria to make sure
 she couldn't hear.
	"I haven't started."
	"Why not?"
	"I've been busy tutoring Nebonex, he's painting it."
	Wynic was so stunned he nearly fell out of the saddle.  "Are 
we talking about the same Nebonex?"
	"Oh, yes.  He's better than I am.  He has a natural gift and 
I've been encouraging it," explained Gith.  "He should be done in less
 than a week, I imagine."
	"Does anybody else know?" asked Wynic, glancing at Derick, 
who had wandered over to talk with Rades.
	"Just Nebonex, you and me," replied Gith.  "I want it to be a
 surprise, so don't mention it to anyone.  Nebonex also wants to 
surprise his mother."
	"How'd you keep it a secret?"
	"Remember all those trips down to the catacombs?  Everyone
 thought we were going down to see the Emperor, but we were 
exploring the place, painting the inspiration we found on the very 
walls.  Especially the Emperor's, he seems to draw strength from 
seeing his father," said Gith thoughtfully.
	"Wynic," shouted Dillard, riding up to join them.  "Who's in
 charge?"
	"I don't know.  I thought Waytorn was."
	"I thought Blackaxe was, but he says you are!"
	"Well then, I guess I'm in charge."
	"Why don't we all be?"
	"That's too confusing, besides there's thirty two of us," replied
 Wynic, standing up in the saddle.  "Okay everybody, this ain't a 
picnic!  Open the gates and fall into eight ranks of four," he shouted.
	"I think you mean four ranks of eight," yelled Sardias.
	"Whatever!"



		The next two days of riding passed in a blur, and in the
 afternoon of second day, Wynic, Pothax and Waytorn rode ahead to
 inspect the cove.  The three left their horses in a small thicket, and 
approached the cove on foot.  "There's the citadel," pointed Pothax.
	Wynic followed Pothax's finger and his gaze and ended at the
 huge looming black citadel.  It was hard to miss.  The huge spirals 
and towers thrust into the heavens as if daring anything to step forward
 and attack its walls.  It looked like if it were to fall, there'd be a crater,
 creating a miniature Lake Vormia.  "How do we get in?" he asked.
	"You don't want to know!"
	"I take it isn't going to be pleasant getting inside?" asked 
Waytorn, absently scratching his scars.
	"Trust me," grinned Pothax.  "You don't want to know!"

Chapter 24
		"You're kidding me, aren't you?" asked Derick, looking 
at the sewage tunnel with obvious disbelief.  Pothax rolled up his pants
 and looked up at Derick.  "Nope."  He stepped into the knee deep 
foul water, and started into the tunnel.  Derick gaped at him.
	"Oh, come on, Derick," said Rades with a good nature slap 
on the back.  "A little dirty water never hurt anyone," he said and with
 that he stepped into the water, slipped on a stone and landed on his 
back.
	"Watch it!  It's slippery!" shouted Pothax from inside the tunnel.
	"Now he tells me," grumbled Rades, standing up and looking 
at his ruined clothes.  "This is disgusting!"
	"Oh, come on, Rades," mimicked Derick.  "A little dirty water 
never hurt anyone."



		The sewer had been built during the Last Vormian 
Dynasty and the supports had rotted until the tunnel had collapsed in 
areas.  The stench from refuse, old and new, and worse was almost 
overwhelming, and many of them had to swallow back vomit.  Dillard 
was not faring well, he was constantly staggering from nausea, and had
 dumped the contents of his stomach when a rotted corpse had surfaced
 beside him.  Rats skittered between the rocks, occasionally stopping 
to stare at the strange parade of beleaguered warriors.
	"We're here," shouted Pothax, stopping suddenly under the 
eerie light streaming from a heavy iron grate above him.
	"Finally," groaned Dillard, leaning against the slimy wall.
	"Could someone give me some help?" asked Pothax, barely 
budging the heavy grate.  "The thing's damn heavy and I can barely 
reach it!"
	Blackaxe and Carlo splashed through the sewage and the
 three slowly lifted the grate, and slid it aside.
	"Dillard, you and Waytorn go up first, we'll hand up everyone
 else to you," ordered Wynic.



		It took seven of the cutthroats to haul Blackaxe, with
 all his armour, up out of hole.  "Well, I'm hungry.  How about the 
rest of you?" he asked.  Dillard turned and choked back more vomit.
 "I'll take that as a no," said Blackaxe.
	"How about a Stornium shis-ka-bob?" asked a burly minotaur,
 coming around a corner.  "Charge!" he roared fiercely.
	"Guard Blackaxe's flanks," Wynic ordered.  "Blackaxe take 
that axe and ram it down their throats," he yelled, drawing both swords.
	A troop of forty minotaurs charged around the corner drawing 
scimitars, and longswords.
	"Derick, Victoria," yelled Wynic, engaging a minotaur.  "Go to 
the back of our ranks and shoot at their flanks!"  The archeress 
retreated to the back to join Derick with his crossbow.  The two began
 to thin the minotaur's ranks out.
	Wynic was faced with a minotaur carrying a weapon the assassin
 couldn't name.  It was a shortsword with a short whip attached to the
 tip.  Wynic had learned quickly that it was better to dodge the strange 
weapon than parry it.  When he had first parried it, the whip had 
snapped out and grabbed his arm.  The minotaur, having caught him 
would then stab at the assassin.  So Wynic dodged and stabbed since 
he couldn't get close enough to slash at the minotaur.
	Dropping his shortsword, he drew a Stornium Star and finished
 the job with a flick of the wrist.  The fallen minotaur was immediately 
replaced with another swinging two scimitars.  Wynic picked up his 
shortsword and brought it and the bastardsword down on the 
minotaur's shoulders.  The minotaur moved to block the assassin's 
attack with his scimitars.  At the last possible moment however, Wynic
 curved his swing and brought it in just underneath the minotaurs arm,
 piercing the chain mail and killing the minotaur.  Wynic's shortsword 
was stuck.
	A minotaur with a Goban jumped forward to replace his 
comrade.  Abandoning the shortsword, Wynic gripped the bastard-
sword with both hands and deflected the minotaur's swing.  The 
minotaur made a game stab at him, but the assassin remembered 
Redhawk telling him that game stabs can be used to your advantage. 
He grabbed the Goban's harpoon tip with his gloved hand, and jerked
 it away from the minotaur.  The beast, now defenseless, fled only to 
be shot with a crossbow bolt.
	Waytorn charged forward flanked by two cutthroats.  The 
minotaur's wore chain mail, which had too many small holes to be a 
good defense against Waytorn's rapier, so the King Culprit charge 
quickly began to rout the minotaurs.
	The remaining six fled when they realized how few were left. 
Victoria shot three rapidly with her arrows and Derick got another
 with his crossbow.  Carlo and Rades tackled another and Sardias 
stabbed it through the throat.  Wynic got the last one with a dagger in 
the back.
	The assassin looked around at their surroundings to get a
 bearings on where they were.  They were in the warehouse district 
where most of the buildings had been boarded up.  "Blackaxe, break 
down that door," he pointed at the door to an abandoned warehouse. 
 "We'll hide them in there.  The rest of you clean up this mess," he ordered.  "Pothax, Waytorn, come with me."
	The three scaled the wall of a building to look around. 
 "Where do you think Kobalix is?" he asked, looking at Pothax.
	"I only saw him at the eastern gate during my spy mission here."
	"Where would you go, Waytorn?"
	"To the highest tower overlooking the lake.  That's the best 
lookout and usually the most defensible," Waytorn answered,
 nervously scratching his scarred face.
	Wynic looked around and spotted the highest tower to the
 west.  "We go west then."



		"Is this tall enough?" asked Rades loudly.
	"Shhish!" hissed Sardias. She pointed at the minotaur guards 
around the tower.
	"Sorry."
	"It's the tallest one," agreed Waytorn with a nod.
	"How do we get in?" asked one of the cutthroats.  "Without
 being seen that is," he added.
	"Your cutthroats aren't exactly professionals, are they, 
Waytorn?" said Pothax, taking a grappling hook and rope from his 
pack.
	"They're not assassins or burglars, Pothax," grinned Waytorn, 
"but they're excellent killers."
	With practiced ease, Pothax threw the hook and rope up to
 the window above.  With a quick tug, the hook opened and caught 
on the window sill.  Pulling the rope tight, he began climbing up.  He
 disappeared through the window and a moment later waved for Wynic
 and the rest to follow.



		The assassin pulled himself over the window sill 
with Pothax's help.  "Thanks," he grunted, leaning against the
 granite wall and looking down at Dillard, Blackaxe and the 
remaining cutthroats.  "Dillard, Blackaxe!  Take those fifteen 
cutthroats and go to that mine.  Then steal a boat and go to the 
opposite side of this tower.  We'll meet you there," he yelled.  
"Okay," he said, turning back to the rest, "Let's start climbing."



		"The boat leaks a bit, but it will work.  Mind you, 
we might have to bail water out a couple times," reported Dillard, 
returning with four cutthroats.
	"Are there any guards?" asked Blackaxe.
	"One, he's sleeping."
	"Send a cutthroat in there and make sure he doesn't ever 
wake up," grinned Blackaxe.  "The rest of us will get the boat in the 
water."
	"How will we get by the guards at that collapsed wall there?" 
pointed a cutthroat.  The makeshift port Kobalix's men had constructed
 was nothing but a collapsed wall.  The cove had been dammed at the
 entrance so the water level had risen up so it had reached the citadel.
 Kobalix had placed fifty guards there since it was the only weakness 
in the citadel's structure, having forgotten about the sewers.
	"Do you have a flint and steel?" asked Dillard.
	"Yes, but this is no time for a smoke-"
	"Well, then, go use it, we need a big distraction," he ordered 
with a smile.
	The cutthroat grinned and walked away with thoughts of arson.



		"Looks like Dillard needed a distraction," laughed 
Rades, pointing at a wall of smoke to the east.  "I think he got carried 
away!"
	Victoria looked out the window at the commotion outside. 
Kobalix's men were panicking.  "Wynic," she said, "look at them, they
 look like-how much black dirt do you think there is inside this citadel?"
	A huge fireball explosion went up in the sky like a second sun, 
followed by two smaller ones.
	"Does that answer your question?" asked Wynic, increasing his 
pace.  "Don't worry about it.  Pothax said they weren't mining the black 
dirt, because the mine is too dangerous."
	"Where is Pothax anyway?" asked Derick suddenly.
	"I sent him ahead to find out what room Kobalix is in."



		"This is too easy, Wynic," reported Pothax.  "He's on 
the top floor, no guards and he's sleeping!"
	"You're right, that does sound too good to be true.  You 
suspect a trap?" said Wynic thoughtfully.
	"There's more.  The door is a fake, I inspected it, and there's a
 wall behind it."
	"How do you know that Kobalix is in the room, much less 
asleep?" demanded Carlo.
	"He was talking in his sleep.  He keeps saying stuff like 'my 
world, my world, my crown, my crown'.  He's obsessed with 
conquering the world," explained Pothax.
	"He is," said Waytorn.  "He wants it all, even the crime 
world."
	"Well don't you want the entire crimeworld?" protested Sardias.
	"I'm quite content with not being able to even count all that I 
have.  I do have problems when someone starts poaching my territory."
	"We're getting off topic here!" said Victoria.  "How are we
 going to get in there if there's no door?"
	"Give me five minutes," said Waytorn, and went back down 
the steps.
		"There's a secret stairway inside the outer wall.  It leads
 up to the top floor.  I thought these walls were unusually thick, even for
 a citadel," said Waytorn when he returned.  "We have to back down 
several floors to get to the stairway."
	"General Sardias," said Rades.  "I really think you should add 
stair climbing to our training," he said, following Waytorn back down 
the stairs.

Chapter 25
		"How come we got the hard job?" complained a 
cutthroat, chopping at the boards supporting the mine ceiling with an 
axe.
	"Stop complaining," spat Dillard, swinging his own axe at the
 boards.
	"Well, couldn't we just use one of those giant crossbows 
that Kobalix's minotaurs made and shoot them at this mine?" asked
 the cutthroat.
	"We'd need another distraction and there's nothing to burn 
nearby," replied Dillard.
	"Oh,"
	The mine shuddered and dirt drifted down between the 
cracks in the rocks, causing everyone to cough.  "Everybody out," 
coughed Blackaxe.  "I'm going ta take the Swathick axe to this place!" 
He coughed again.  Dillard and the cutthroats hurried outside and 
Blackaxe began smashing the rocks themselves at the entrance.  
	A vast groan came from the mine and the ceiling shuddered.
 Blackaxe struck again and fled the tunnel.  It collapsed just behind 
him and a huge cloud of dust shot forth like a crossbow bolt engulfing
 the knight.  He emerged from the cloud, coughing and stumbling.
	"The minotaurs are coming," shouted a cutthroat urgently.
	"Quick, everyone into the boat," ordered Dillard, helping
 Blackaxe.



		Putting his ear to the door, Wynic listened carefully
 and whispered the conversation that was on the opposite side of the
 door.
	"Tell them to get my ship ready, and to wait for my signal, 
General.  I want to be half way across the lake when Arthian goes up, 
up, and away!"  Kobalix laughed.
	"What about that group the Empress sent?" asked a nasal 
voice.
	"Leave them.  They are just a pests.  Mosquitoes!  If I swat at 
them, they'll either retreat or be squashed," laughed Kobalix.  "Now 
move!" he yelled.
	A door slammed and the sound of boots clomping came from 
beneath the floor.  "There's more than one secret stairway marveled 
Waytorn.  "I'll bet Kobalix doesn't even know about this one!"
	"Okay, how do we go about capturing him?" asked Rades, 
leaning against the wall.
	"Simple," said Pothax, "we just charge in, surround him and
 knock him out."
	"Good enough," agreed Eluth.  Eluth tended to let these 
discussions be handled by the others, unless he got impatient or nervous.
	"Okay.  On three," said Pothax.  "One-two-three!"  Wynic 
busted the door down, ripping through the huge map that had been 
hanging over the hidden doorway.
	Kobalix jumped back from where he had been standing beside
 the window and drew both scimitars.
	"Block all the exits," shouted Sardias, charging over to block 
the other doorway.  Derick entered behind her, aiming his crossbow 
at Kobalix.  The companions had neglected to remember to block the
 door they had cam through, so Kobalix saw his only chance and 
darted past Derick, throwing the squire aside.
	Victoria managed to shoot Kobalix in the minotaur's arm, but
 it appeared to be nothing more than a minor hit.  Wynic started after 
him.  "Wynic, stop!" she yelled.
	"I'll catch him.  The rest of you go join up with Blackaxe and 
Dillard. They might need your help!"



		"Where's Wynic?" demanded Dillard, helping Pothax
 into the boat.
	"Kobalix got away.  Wynic went after him," explained Pothax.
 "Quickly, did you collapse the mine?"
	"Sure did!  Blackaxe nearly choked to death in the dust," 
replied Dillard.
	"Did not!"
	"Whatever," said Carlo, "we got to get out of here!  The place 
still might blow sky high!"
	"What?" cried Dillard.
	"No time to explain," said the commodore.  "Everyone grab 
an oar and start rowing!"
	"We can't leave Wynic behind!" cried Victoria.
	"He'll be okay," lied Dillard stoically, but Victoria saw right 
through it.  "I've seen him in tougher situations."
	Victoria sat down in the stern of the boat and wept.



		Wynic could see Kobalix ahead of him now.  He 
started to run faster.  He's slowing down, he thought.  Which doesn't 
make sense, minotaurs can run for hours without getting tired.  He's
 planning to turn and attack.
	The gap between the two warriors was now twenty feet.  
Kobalix ran around a corner and climbed out a window hoping Wynic 
would run right on by.
	The assassin wasn't blind, indeed he was twice as observant 
as the average person.  He too climbed out onto the two foot wide 
spiral that went around the tower.
	Kobalix swung his scimitars at Wynic's head and chest.  The 
assassin rolled away, nearly falling over the edge.  If he'd fallen, he 
thought, thank God it was only a ten foot drop to the parapet.
	Kobalix rushed the assassin, pushing him over the edge, but 
Wynic reached out and grabbed Kobalix's arm, pulling him along.
	Tumbling through the air, he landed cat-like on the parapet. 
He had fared better than Kobalix, who landed roughly on his side with
 a curse, dropping a scimitar.  Taking the bastardsword with both hands
 since he had dropped his shortsword in order to grab Kobalix's arm,
 he kicked Kobalix's scimitar away.
	"Mine!" spat Kobalix, rising to face Wynic.
	The two opponents weapons clanged together tentatively, and
 they began a ritual of life and death that seemed as old as time.  Each
 testing the other for weaknesses to exploit, for advantages.
	Kobalix was the stronger, more trained of the two.  Wynic had
 his experience, speed, skill and tricks.  His tricks failed on Kobalix's
 superior training, but Kobalix appeared to be getting tired.  Why?
	Could he be drunk? wondered Wynic, but dismissed that 
thought.  Kobalix wouldn't have gotten up from that fall so easily if 
he'd been drunk.  Maybe I could distract him? thought Wynic.  "Why
 did you kill Nebonex?" he shouted since he couldn't think of anything
 else to say.
	"Are you stupid?" snorted Kobalix.  "He was an incompetent.
 He should have been building an Empire, conquering the world, not 
making trade negotiations with an inferior race!"
	"So you want it all for yourself then?"
	"Of course I do!  That fool didn't deserve to be Emperor.  I 
did the Empire a favour getting rid of him, and soon I'll be rid of your 
inferior race, and the world will be all mine!" cried Kobalix fiercely.
	"That includes the criminal world, doesn't it?"
	"Of course it does, how can one rule the whole world if a part
 is missing?"
	"But won't you just reverting the world to what it was during
 the Vormian Dynasties?"
	"The Vormian Dynasties were a time of triumph, power and 
progress.  What was wrong with it?"
	The sudden change in Wynic's efforts startled Kobalix.  He 
started forcing the minotaur to move faster, in order to defend himself
 from Wynic's quick thrusts, and his occasional dagger throws.  The
 result was Kobalix started to grow fatigued, and frustrated.  The 
assassin decided to start going faster and faster, hoping that Kobalix 
would soon lose his temper, and do something rash.



		"Look," cried Roreed, pointing up at the citadel walls.
 Up on the parapets, two figures were struggling back and forth.
	"Wynic," murmured Dillard.  The companions stopped rowing 
and watched the battle high above.
	"Derick," said Sardias, " could you shoot Kobalix from here?"
	"No, they're too far away.  I might hit Wynic by accident," 
replied Derick, staring at the battle upon the parapet.



		Kobalix made a sudden mad rush at Wynic and
 tackled the assassin.  The Doxon stumbled back, dropping Gith's 
sword and unsheathing a dirk.
	Kobalix had dropped his scimitar and was trying to push 
Wynic over the edge of the parapet.  This time there was nothing 
below for at least a hundred feet.  Landing on his back, he stabbed 
the minotaur in the stomach.  In return, Kobalix shoved his horns 
into the assassin's arm.
	Dragging his injured arm, Wynic squirmed away from the 
minotaur, reaching for Gith's sword.  He felt Kobalix's hands close 
around his waist, and being lifted off the parapet.  He grabbed the 
bastardsword desperately and stabbed Kobalix in the chest.  The 
minotaur stumbled and cursed, and the two fell from the parapet to 
the waters below.
	The bastardsword got tangled in Wynic's frayed cape, and 
he reached inside his tunic and gripped something he'd almost 
forgotten about.  The ring.



		Victoria screamed and tried to jump from the boat, 
but Blackaxe and Carlo barely managed to restrain her.  "Get rowing,"
 roared Carlo, over Victoria's screams.
	The companions rowed hurriedly over to where Wynic had 
entered the water and Rades and Sardias dove into the water, looking 
for the assassin.
	Sardias surfaced gasping with one arm tightly around Wynic's 
waist.  With Waytorn, Pothax and Dillard's help they hauled the assassin
 aboard and laid him down on the bottom of the boat, which was filling
 with water again.  Rades began to bail.
	Derick checked the Doxon's pulse.  "He's alive.  Barely," he
 said.

Chapter 26
		"Pothax, take Victoria," ordered Blackaxe.  "Derick, 
Roreed, do what you can for Wynic.  The rest of you get rowing."
	There was an explosion from the citadel, and the boat rocked 
precariously to one side.  "I'm waiting said Blackaxe when nobody
 moved.  The cutthroats grabbed the oars with complaints of blisters, 
and began rowing towards the dam.
	Huge clouds of smoke had gathered overhead, however 
Blackaxe betted that there were real clouds up there.  Real dark, 
ominous looking clouds.  Perfect end to a perfect day, he mused 
ironically and wrinkled his nose at Rades.



		The cutthroats had complained bitterly when they 
were told to carry the boat over the dam, but Blackaxe had picked 
up his axe threatening, and the complaints stopped abruptly.
	It began to rain.  Blackaxe smiled faintly.
	"Figures," spat Rades, still mourning over his ruined clothes.
	"I don't see what your problem is," said Sardias.  "You're 
already wet from swimming so why are you worried about a little 
rain?"
	"Don't bother him," whispered Dillard.  "He's the sole survivor 
from Deltex.  Imagine losing everybody you ever knew, even your 
enemies.  He's been putting up a good front about it, but I think it's 
hurting him  more than he wants to admit."
	"That's depressing!"
	Half a hour later and one league out onto the lake, a huge 
fireball lit up the sky like a giant sun.  Heat waves rolled for miles 
around.  A sprinkle of ash covered the area for a radius of four miles. 
The boat rocked to one side dangerously each time a heat wave hit it 
broadside.  The result was enough to make even Carlo, a season sailor
 used to the tide, to feel sick.
	Derick had bandaged Wynic's injured arm and stopped the 
bleeding from any cuts he could find.  Now the assassin slept peacefully.



		"Look," cried Pothax, pointing up at the sky.  Blackaxe 
looked up, expecting another fireball, but instead he stared in silence 
at the wondrous sight in the sky.  A huge shimmering curtain of lights 
danced around the sky looking like a beautiful white fire. The 
companions rowed and stared at the dancing lights in wonder for 
several hours.



		"The angels are crying," murmured Redhawk, looking 
out the window.
	"What?" cried Gisoni.
	"Help me out onto the balcony, and I'll show you," smiled 
Redhawk reassuringly.  The huge minotaur shrugged, and helped 
Redhawk out onto the balcony.  "See?" said Redhawk, pointing to the 
north.
	Gisoni swore and drew his Goban in surprise.
	Redhawk laughed.  "Don't be silly, Gisoni.  It's just lights.  Up 
in Kinian, we say that it's the angels crying, but we know better.  But 
this is unusual, I've never seen them this far south!"
	"What causes it?" asked Gisoni, sheathing the Goban.
	"I don't know, but it's supposed to be a good omen.  My guess
 is Wynic succeeded."



		"Nebonex," cried Gith, bursting into the Princes 
chamber.  "Grab your brushes, and paints and meet me up in the 
cupola.  Hurry!"
	"What? Why?" asked Nebonex, scrambling to get out of his 
bed.
	"You'll see."



		"Wow," said Nebonex in wonder, staring at the lights
 dancing in the sky.
	"Hurry up Nebonex.  They may not last long.  I've always
 wanted to paint the northern lights," said Gith, setting up a canvas.
	"Oh, yeah," said Nebonex, and looked back at the beautiful 
lights.



		"They're called Angel tears or northern lights,"
 explained Derick.
	"What causes them?" asked Rades.
	"I think it's caused by the temperature since they're common 
up north, but that's just my opinion.  But I do know you can't see them 
in Stornium. It's too far south."
	"Victoria," someone whispered.
	The archeress turned around to see the Paladin Assassin.  
"Wynic," she gasped.  "Shh," he whispered, handing her something.  
Victoria looked down at the silver, emerald studded ring and gasped.
	"Marry me."

Epilogue
		It was late autumn now in Arthian.  The great maples 
had turned beautiful shades of yellow, orange and red.  The air was 
getting cool and the days shorter.
	Like all wars, there was a famine afterwards, even more so 
since the minotaur army had stampeded across southern Arthian. 
Queen Gweneleque had felt responsible for the famine and had made
 an agreement with Jacog, Sear, Helen and Willium that her Empire 
would provide food for their kingdoms in exchange for the precious 
metals common in the western kingdoms.
	Victoria's and Wynic's announcement had shocked a few, 
but after awhile people started to get used to the thought.  The 
happily-ever-after phrase was common that winter.
	A knock came at the door to Wynic's study the morning after 
the announcement.  "Enter," said the assassin.
	The door opened and Waytorn slid silently inside.  "Wynic, I 
need to discuss something with you," he said.  "Privately."
	"Go ahead, Victoria always sleeps in.  Pothax left with Dillard 
last night to go wenching and Redhawk isn't going anywhere!" replied 
Wynic, turning away from the window to face Waytorn.
	"How's the chest? I heard you broke a few ribs when you fell?"
	"Fine.  Derick bandaged them up."
	"That's good!  I fell in love with a woman like Victoria once," 
began Waytorn, "but my thirst for wealth was too great at the time and
 I was forced to leave her.  I've always regretted it."
	"And?" prompted the assassin.
	"I envy you Wynic," said Waytorn.  "I've heard that your past 
wasn't pleasant and maybe you wish that you hadn't lived that past, but
 I'd give everything I have now, to be you, even through all those 
unpleasantries, just to be with Larel.  What I'm trying to say, Wynic, is
 you're the only one I know that is truly content with everything you
 have.  I on the other hand will probably always be lonely since few 
people can see past my scars and obscure status."
	"Thank you, Waytorn," said Wynic, unsure of what to reply.  
"If I were you, I'd try harder though."
	"Thank you, Wynic."



		"You can't have a commoner marriage and a royal
 wedding together," protested Jacog, stamping his foot for emphasis.
	"Why not?" replied Helen coolly.  "Wynic is a general, meets
 the King regularly and is known to my people as the Paladin Assassin. 
In addition, Victoria's a hero in my book.  Besides there's stories 
already flying around about a romantic adventure about all of us. Such 
a wedding as I suggested would be a perfect ending.  Probably get a 
couple good ballads written about it!"
	"But-" protested Jacog.
	"But Jackie," whined Elexenia.  "Victoria and Helen said I 
could be a brides maid.  Can I? Can I?  Pretty please with lots of 
sugar on top?"
	"Well, I don't know.  Well, okay, but remember what happened 
at our wedding?" said Jacog uneasily.
	"It wasn't my fault the place burned down!" cried Elexenia.
	"We can have it outside?" suggested Wynic.
	"How will you pay for all this?" asked Willium.  His eyes were
 bloodshot.  He'd been into the wine again.  "Royal weddings usually 
have a month's worth of festivities, which means another month's worth 
of preparations."
	"I've already taken care of all that.  The festivities will start in five
 days when my wedding party arrives and sets up," explained Helen, 
smoothing out the folds in her gown.
	"Bring it in, Nebonex," shouted Gith suddenly.  Everyone
 looked up from their seats around the dining table as Nebonex walked
 in carrying a huge rectangle package, followed by Gisoni and Pollex, 
carrying an even larger package.  "This is for you Victoria," he said,
 handing the package to the brigadier.
	"Thank you Nebonex, uh, Gith," said Victoria, clumsily setting 
the package down on the table.
	"Open it," urged Darylinn, jumping from Elexenia's lap and 
running over to stand beside Victoria.
	Taking out her dagger, Victoria carefully cut the brown 
parchment and brushed it aside.  "Oh my," she whispered.
	"Wow," cried Darylinn.
	"What is it?" asked Gisoni, setting down his end of the huge 
package.  Pollex breathed a sigh of relief and promptly dropped his 
end onto the table.
	Victoria lifted the painting up so all could see.  Every line, 
every hair, every shade of colour was exactly the same as Victoria 
herself.  It couldn't have been more close to perfect if Victoria had
 been holding up a mirror.  Wynic swore that if Victoria stood beside 
it and didn't move, he wouldn't be able to tell, which was real and 
which was painted.
	"That's your best one yet, Gith," remarked Willium approvingly.
	"The apprentice has outdone his tutor," said Gith modestly.
	"Huh?" said Willium confused.
	"I didn't paint it," explained Gith.
	"Well, then, who did?" asked Jacog.
	"Nebonex did!" replied Gith.
	"What?" exclaimed Gweneleque, turning to face her son.  The
 Prince blushed, a strange sight.
	"You see-" began Nebonex-"when Gith took me down to
 the... Oh dear, you haven't been down to the catacombs yet, have 
you?"
	"No, but-"
	"The catacombs is where they keep the long dead Kings of 
Arthian.  We took father down there and placed him on Willium's
 platform.  It was so beautiful and peaceful down there that I wanted 
to stay.  Later Gith suggested that I come down there and he could 
tutor me, and as you can see, I'm really quite good at it," explained 
the Prince. "We can go down there and visit father as soon as we 
show everyone the other painting, if you like?"
	"I'd love to," replied Gweneleque.
	"Gisoni," said Gith, "take the wrapping off the other painting."
	Gisoni cut the parchment off with a dagger and tossed it away. 
"Hey!  It Angel tears!"
	"What?" said Elexenia, jumping up.  "Where?"
	"That's what the Kinians call it," explained Gisoni, pushing the 
huge eight foot painting up so everyone could see.  The painting 
depicted the horizon of familiar towers and walls of the northern part 
of Athex and the wondrous beauty of the northern lights in the 
background.
	"Party lights," squealed Darylinn.
	"You've seen them before?" asked Willium, turning to his 
daughter.
	"Oh, yes. They were so bright, I couldn't sleep, besides 
someone was making lotsa noise up on the roof," said Darylinn.
	"We also saw them the night Wynic killed Kobalix," said 
Victoria.
	"I take it you two painted this up in the cupola, right?" 
guessed Jacog.
	"Actually, just charcoal sketches, smaller versions and colour
 samples.  We finished this down in the catacombs," answered Gith.
	"Who's it for?" asked Gwen.
	"Helen and Redhawk of course!  Redhawk will need a reminder
 of home occasionally," said Nebonex.
	"Nebonex, you and Gith can take your mother down to the 
catacombs.  We'll continue without you," said Willium, rubbing his 
bloodshot eyes.
	"Actually, before you go," called Wynic, "I'd like to know if 
Nebonex would be my best man.  Also, Redhawk asked me if to ask 
Gisoni if he'd be his best man."
	Gisoni looked up.  "Me?"
	Nebonex would not be caught off guard.  "I'd be more than 
pleased, Wynic," he replied.
	"And would you be a bride's maid Empress?" asked Queen 
Helen hopefully.
	"I too would be more than pleased," she replied.



		"King Sear's been called back to Kinian," explained
 Pothax the next morning in Wynic's study.
	"Why?" asked Victoria, who'd grown fond of the stern,
 warrior-king.
	"They're having problems with the Ice Folk.  They claim the 
Kinians have been poaching the Ice Lands.  Sear's always tried to be
 on good terms with the ice folk, and wants to keep it that way," 
Pothax said, describing the situation briefly.
	There was a knock at the door.  Devid and Derick entered. 
"Good morning gentlemen, Lady," said Devid.  "Derick has a surprise
 for you all.  So could you all join us in Redhawk's chamber?"
	"Isn't he sleeping?" asked Pothax.
	"Queen Helen came by to visit again," shrugged Derick.



		"Pothax, and Dillard returned last night with last of the
 things I needed to build it.  I knew my lord was so anxious to get out
 of bed, so I finished it with Devid's help last night," explained Derick.
 "You may not know this, Wynic, but Devid is quite a carpenter.  It's 
a shame his skills are going to waste washing, cleaning, dusting and 
what not."  Devid blushed and looked at the floor uncomfortably.
	"Taa daa!" shout Derick, stepping away so everyone could see 
the huge object with a sheet covering it. He whipped the sheet off and 
tossed it away.  The object was a chair with two light weight wagon
 wheels placed on an axle beneath the seat of a legless chair.  The chair 
itself looked quite comfortable with purple velvet and a built in foot 
rest. There were two small swivelable wheels underneath the foot rest.
	"It looks like a wagon builder went blind and mistook the chair
 for wagon parts," surmised Redhawk doubtfully.
	"May I demonstrate my lord?" asked Derick, sliding into the
 chair.
	"Go ahead," he replied, still skeptical.  "What is it?"
	"I haven't decided on a good name milord.  Wheelchair is the 
best I can come up with."
	"It's adequate," said Redhawk, sitting up so he could see better.
	"You see, you put your feet up and put your hands on the 
wheels and-"  The squire pushed on the wheels and slid across the 
room in the chair.  The wheel and axle shrieked from lack of oil.  "Um,
 Devid, go fetch some oil.  I think you forgot about that!"
	"I thought you were supposed to oil the axle!" protested 
Devid quietly, and walked away mumbling.
	"Anyway, milord, you'll be able to go places, as long as it's 
flat or the streets are paved, that is.  You won't need to walk.  It will
 also help you gain back the strength in your arm," explained Derick,
 standing back up.
	"Help me into it," said Redhawk, struggling to get up.  Pothax 
and Wynic rushed over, linked their arms with Redhawk's and helped
 him over and into the strange chair.
	Devid returned and hastily oiled the wheels and axle.
	"Go slowly at first, milord," said Derick.  "It's hard to stop if 
you build up too much momentum.
	"Ah, okay," said Redhawk, unsure.  "This is safe, isn't it?"
	"Unless you plan on going down the stairs, which I'd prefer 
you didn't," replied Derick.
	Redhawk pushed the wheels forward and he slid across the 
room.  "Hey, this is neat!  Where'd you get this idea?"
	"Mathex mentioned that the solution would be to put wheels 
under you. I fooled around with the idea until I found this one," 
explained Derick.  "To steer, push one forward and hold the other in 
place so it doesn't move but the other does."
	"Oh," said Redhawk, turning right and then left.  "This is really
 neat!"



		"He keeps complaining about the unpaved streets, and
 he's already attacked several people for not getting out of his way," 
laughed Rades.  "Gisoni went off with him.  He's going to keep him 
out of trouble until the wedding."
	"I think you're regretting this Derick, aren't you?" asked 
Willium with a laugh.
	"Not really.  You really should pave your sheets and repair
them.  A half cobbled city seems kind of cluttered and disorderly," 
replied Derick.
	"Wynic, you and Rades better go with Gisoni.  Helen will be
 really upset if he's late for the wedding," asked Willium sternly.



		It had been decided to have the wedding in the park 
where Victoria and Wynic had been attacked.  The beautiful colours 
of the trees, and the late blooming flowers and neatly trimmed bushes
 made it all look like a garden of the Angels.  The Archbishop was a 
short, stern man with a broad smile, strange bright eyes, and looked 
particularly plump in his pristine white robes.  Willium had tried 
unsuccessfully to get the priest to join him for a drink of wine, but the 
priest refused, though he did look tempted as Willium kept reminding
 Nebonex and therefore kept trying.
	Lady Bardelias was busy flirting, as usual, with the younger 
knights present as well as the many young courtiers.  Young Derick 
however, presented a problem.  The squire had walked by without 
so much as a glance.  This presented a challenge, and Lady Bardelias 
used every excuse she could to attract his attention.  
	The knights had all taken out their new ceremonial armour,
 polished it up, and were now clanking around in the heavy platinum 
or silver things.  Dillard, however, had conveniently misplaced the
 heavy armour and sat quite comfortably in a scarlet silk tunic from 
Evicoth and baggy black pants, the newest fashion.  He'd seen Rades 
wearing a pair of baggy black pants and found they looked quite 
dashing, and they were more comfortable than traditional hose.
	Pothax and Waytorn chatted idly accompanied by twenty of 
Waytorn's bodyguards.  Most of them were from the Picnic as they 
were calling the mission to Kobalix's citadel.  A pun aimed at Wynic 
and what he said just before they left.  Another fifty of his men 
patrolled the streets around the park, probably guarding the 
proceedings better than the five hundred soldiers guarding the park 
and Wynic's estate.   besides they were making a profit pick 
pocketing everyone too occupied with the festivities.
	Jacog was pacing.
	"Will you please stop doing that?" asked Mathex, who had
 been talking to Derick, but couldn't concentrate because of Jacog.
	"Something's going to go wrong.  I know it," muttered Jacog.
	"Well, if you're so paranoid about it, go pace somewhere 
else," snapped Mathex.  Jacog went off to make sure the cooks hadn't
 started a fire.  The wonderful aroma of bacon and potatoes was 
irresistible.



		"Thank god Willium's plan worked," said Victoria, 
adjusting the back of her wedding gown with the help of a maid.  "It's
 bad luck if they see us before the wedding, and Wynic is an assassin, 
so I'm pretty sure he could get into his own house, even if we bolted 
all the doors and windows."
	"Come over here and take a look at this," said Gweneleque, 
motioning them all to join her at the balcony.
	"What is it?" squealed Elexenia, running over and hopping so 
she could see over everyone's shoulders.  Down below in the park
 gates there was a commotion about a burly, middle aged man with a
 shaved head.  "He's a Stornium sailor," concluded Helen.
	"How can you tell?" asked Victoria, turning to face the Queen.
	"The gold ring in his left cheek.  That's a tradition among sailors
 in Stornium."
	"What's a sailor doing in Athex?"
	"He probably has a legitimate reason.  Other than that, your
 guess is as good as mine."



		"He says that he's a friend of Wynic's," explained the 
Colonel to Victoria.  "He also says he helped recover the Swathick
 Axe."
	"Ask him about the journey, and if he mentions anything about 
a commodore Carlo or waterspouts, let him by," Victoria ordered. 
The Colonel saluted and marched away.
	"You look very authoritative, even without the uniform," 
remarked Gwen thoughtfully.
	"Empress," said Marigathos, entering carrying Prince 
Robarthars.  "Your daughter wants to know if she can ride Princess 
Darylinn's pony."
	"I'll watch them if you'd like, Empress?" suggested Sardias, 
quiet until now.
	"Okay, go ahead, but make sure she doesn't start fooling 
around.  She tends to get hyper," replied Gwen, taking Robarthars 
from the nanny.
	"There's the signal from Blackaxe," said Elex, jumping up and 
down happily.
	"That just means that everything is ready," said Helen.  "We 
have to wait for Redhawk and Wynic."



		"It's been half a hour since I sent Blackaxe and Dillard
 out to look for them," complained Willium.  "The servants are
 threatening to leave and go home."
	In the center of the park there was a wide glade where the 
nobles, courtiers and knights were gathered.  At the eastern part of 
the glade was a marble fountain with waterdragons or Arums floating 
on the surface.  It was in front of this that the Archbishop had sat 
down in a chair and was snoring.  Nebonex leaned against the fountain, 
occasionally yawning.
	"If they don't hurry up, we'll have their wedding without them,"
 muttered Jacog. "I told you something would go wrong," he said smugly
 to Mathex.



		"Your daughter and Darylinn got hungry, and ate some 
bearberries," said Sardias to Gwen as she entered Victoria's room.  
"Marigathos and Devid took them down to the kitchen to find them 
something better to eat."
	Gweneleque looked worried.  "They weren't poisoness were 
they?" she asked.
	"Bearberries and wintergreen's?  Oh no, I eat them all the time, 
but they taste better if you wash them and make pie," said Victoria.  "To 
say the least, I'm hungry too.  What say we sneak down to the kitchen 
and borrow something to eat?"



		"Wynic, what happened?" asked Gith, rushing over to 
help. The assassin was bleeding from a cut across the chest and he had 
a black eye.
	"We ran into some of Kobalix's former men," Wynic replied,
 leaning against Gith wearily.  "Thirty of them."
	"The cutthroats trapped them in a cellar.  Rades barricaded the
 door while Wynic and Gisoni held them back," explained Dillard.  
"Redhawk snored through the whole thing!"
	"They're damn lucky Dillard and I showed up," grunted 
Blackaxe, half carrying, half dragging Rades.
	"Sire," said Gith, pointing at Wynic's face.  "You've got a
 black eye again."
	"I know.  Go get me and Rades some shirts," Wynic groaned,
 ripping off what was left of his shirt and tossing it aside.  Gith helped 
Wynic into a chair and hurriedly went off in search of some shirts.
	"Master," cried Devid, entering the hall with Marigathos.
	"Dev," said Wynic, "go fetch Derick will you?"
	"At once master."



		Bardelias had finally cornered the squire by the looks of
 Derick's caught look.  Devid smiled.  "Excuse me Lady Bardelias," said
 Devid, "but Lord Redhawk needs his squire at the moment."
	Bardelias looked as if she could kill Devid, but allowed the squire
 to get away.  "Thanks Dev.  I owe you one," said Derick as soon as the 
Lady couldn't hear.  "What is it?"
	"They've been in a fight, Rades has a huge bump on his head," 
Devid explained, leading the way.



		"I told you to stay out of trouble," scolded Derick, 
examining the bump on Rades head.
	"It's not my fault.  Wynic stepped on the leader's foot," Redhawk
 said defensively.
	"Here's some clean shirts," said Gith, returning.
	"Thanks," mumbled Wynic, taking a shirt.  He checked the
 bandage for his broken ribs and then pulled on the shirt.
	"You three better get out there," said Derick, "or Willium's going 
to have a fit.  I'll take care of Rades."



		"I sent you to watch Redhawk, and you get in a fight!" 
Willium accused Wynic.
	"Shut up, Willium!  Nebonex wake up the bishop," Wynic said, 
taking his place.  "Oh and aren't you supposed to chaperone Victoria, 
Willium?"
	"Oops!  I almost forgot," mumbled the King, and hurried away.
	Redhawk rolled up beside Wynic, and stood up stiffly.  "I'm 
going to ask.  How much blood did I lose?  This has seemed an awfully
 long time for me to get my strength back enough to walk."
	"Too much."
	"Finally," said the Archbishop, standing up and stretching.  
"Today the Lord taught me patience."
	"Sorry," apologized Redhawk.
	"You should be.  That was a good dream I was having," said 
the priest, brushing off his robes.
	"Can we get on with this?" Wynic asked.
	"Impatient aren't we?"
	"No, we're a hour late, and the food is getting cold."
	"Tisk, tisk.  Well, lad, what are you waiting for?  Signal the 
chaperone to proceed," the priest said, looking at Nebonex sternly.
	"Oh, right," mumbled Nebonex.  "Hey, Willium we can start
 now!" he boomed loudly.
	"Can't you be a bit more subtle?' asked Wynic, taking his
 fingers back out of his ears.
	"Sorry.  I did the signal twice.  I think Willium's going blind."
	"Thank the Lord his hearing isn't going," muttered Redhawk.
 "Then again, anybody could have heard you.  Has General Chek
 been giving you lessons?"
	Willium and Victoria rounded the corner and Wynic's heart
 stopped momentarily, his hand going to his black eye.  To his eye 
she looked like an angel who had been rejected from heaven because
she was too beautiful to be let in.  She was dressed in a pristine white 
satin gown.  She had to almost march to keep from tripping on the
 many folds on the front of the gown.  The veil was so thin that it was
 hardly visibly in the twilight.  The sleeves were cut down to her 
elbows and trimmed with silver lace.  The back of the gown was 
fringed with lace with the neck just above her shoulders.  Her cape 
was a fabulous arrangement of lacework, pearls and tiny diamonds.  
Her belt was of beaten silver shaped at the front like a four sided 
diamond.  In the center of the diamond was a huge flat ruby, which 
reflected the festive autumn colours.
	Pothax noted with some surprise that hidden in Victoria's belt 
was a dagger.  He shrugged it off as a habit as he reached down and 
fingered the dagger in his belt. There was perhaps twenty daggers 
hidden on the cutthroat and probably a few he'd forgotten about.
	Next came Helen, led by Blackaxe, who was wearing his 
formal gold armour.  The heavy armour seemed to be taking their toll,
 and he was sweating profusely. The overall effect however made him
 look like a sun was escorting the Queen of Stornium.
	Helen's gown was exactly identical as Victoria's except that
 in plane of silver was platinum and in place of the ruby in Victoria's
 belt was a emerald.  In addition she wore a veiled crown made of 
burnished platinum with a huge tiger's eye emerald in it.  The royal 
sash was made of tiny emeralds, intricately attached with platinum
 bands.  What caught Waytorn's eye however was General Chek 
walking behind Blackaxe, carrying a dark, purple velvet cushion 
with a crown slightly identical to Helen's on it.  It had slipped his mind
 that Redhawk was going to be crowned Prince Consort.  But he 
betted Redhawk had also forgotten.
	The Archbishop smiled shrewdly and whispered.  "I'm going 
to talk for quite some time since this is a special occasion.  You don't 
have to listen, just try not to fidget or anything like that.  I'll be talking
 quite loudly, so you can whisper amongst yourselves if you'd like.
 Talk about the weather or something."
	"Try to do it quickly.  This is really killing my legs," muttered
 Redhawk.
	The bishop smiled and launched into a well practiced speech 
and was noticably speeding p for Redhawk's sake.  Then he started 
into asking each person in turn if they'd love, cherish, etc.
	By now Redhawk was doing his best to keep from swaying 
back and forth.  Helen lent him a hand and helped steady him.
	"Lord Dumbkopf Redhawk-" started the priest.
	Rades, Wynic, Blackaxe, Helen and anyone else who knew 
old Stornium started to laugh.  "No wonder he never tells anybody his
 name: Dumbkopf is old Stornium for a really, really, stupid person!" 
Rades whispered to Dillard.
	The Archbishop started again.  "Lord Redhawk," he said finally. 
 "You have a very peculiar arrangement before you.  As a Kinian Knight 
you are sworn to protect the royalty and your homeland.  Your 
residence here in Athex shows you are also devoted to Arthian.  Now
 when you marry, you'll also be devoted to Queen Helen, and also to
 Stornium.  Do you understand all this?"
	"I do," replied Redhawk.
	"General Chek, will you present the crown?" asked the priest.
 Chek strode forward and knelt before him.  "As a Stornium, do 
accept this arrangement?" asked the Archbishop, taking the crown from Chek.
	"I do."
	"I now proclaim you, Lord Redhawk, in the name of the Holy 
Lord, the Prince Consort of the Kingdom of Stornium.  Ah, you two 
can kiss the brides now," said the bishop as placed the crown on 
Redhawk's head.  The Kinian Knight swayed under the weight of the 
crown but Gisoni's hand shot out and steadied him.
	Wynic turned to face Victoria, and gently lifted the veil.  
Discarding modesty, the archeress grabbed Wynic by the neck and 
pulled him forward to kiss him.  "I love you," she whispered for the 
first time.  "We're stealing the show," Wynic replied.  "Let's let 
Redhawk and Helen give their performance so Redhawk can sit down."
	"Deal, but promise me we get to continue this later," agreed 
Victoria.
	"Promise."



		"Savin, you old rascal.  What in the Lord's name are 
you doing here?" cried Wynic, grabbing the pirate by the shoulder and
 shaking him.
	"I'm on vacation, perhaps permanently," replied the pirate.  "I 
thought I'd think over what to do with all that treasure.  I'm getting too
 old for this business."
	"You should talk to King Willium," said Wynic thoughtfully.  
"You two seem to have the same frame of mind!"
	"Me and a King?"
	"Sure, Willium's always saying he's getting too old for this. 
 Besides he's just as fond as drinking as you are!"
	"Maybe more," said Victoria, walking up and exchanging a
 kiss with Wynic.
	"Where ist he, and where's the nearest pub?"
	"He's the chubby fellow talking to the person who looks like
 a sun," Victoria pointed at Blackaxe.  Savin ran off to talk to the 
King.
	"Wynic?" said Victoria, kissing him again.
	"Ya?"
	"Derick thinks I'm pregnant."
	Wynic fainted.