The Mark of Kain
by Mark Latus
     
Part 2 : Should Auld Acquaintance be forgot ...     

     Fleura fastened her travelling cloak as the divination spell completed 
itself.  The once mirror-still basin was now filled with an image of the
forest as a eagle would see it.  Small specks of light showed the presence
of men, she wasn't surprised to see all were dull embers rather than the fire
she had sought.  Just loggers and trappers following their daily routine,  
nothing more.  
     She shrugged unconsciously.  No surprise, she hadn't sensed Koram's
presence until he violated her wards and that awareness had abruptly blinked
out as he fled.  Whatever technique he had learned to shield his presence was 
certainly effective.  He had obviously learned a few tricks over the years,
she would have to ask him how he did it when he returned.  If he returned.
     Her mood darkenened as she pondered his flight.  He had never been 
excessively shy so it hadn't been recognition that drove him off.  At least
not from embarrassment.  Old memories stirred, things best left buried.  So 
many ghosts between them to confront, it had all been too abrupt a reunion.  
That had to be the answer.  
     Didn't it?
     So many questions had haunted her since she saw him and all her answers
were pure speculation.  She could just wait for him to return but who knew
how long that would take?  Strange, all these years she had been content to 
live like a hermit in her parents mansion.  When she had been younger all she 
could think about was the day she left to see the world, she had picked her
travelling companion by the time she was ten.
     But that was before everything changed.  Before Koram went away.  
     She shook her head.  No more waiting, time to act like her old self and 
go find a few answers.  She stepped outside and slapped a note on the front 
door on the offchance Koram returned before she did.  Then concentrated.
Usually she liked the hike to town but she was impatient and there were 
faster waus to travel if you knew how.  As if it were as natural as walking
she stepped sideways and her foot touched down on the hardpacked mud of the 
town's main road.  She looked around and her gaze fixed on the inn.  Where 
better to start looking for a stranger?  He could be camping in the woods but
if the inn was a deadend she'd try the market.  He could well have been there
to buy provisions.  Fleura set off towards the inn, her footsteps raising no
dust in her wake.
     The height of the afternoon had passed, lunch was over and with no more 
meals served until evening all the inn's guests had either departed or were 
about their own business.  Giving the family a chance to finish the day's 
cleaning then relax until evening.  Selia was sweeping the inn's common room, 
the main door to bring in as much fresh air as possible, when she saw the 
sorceress wandering through town.  Admittedly she couldn't actually see 
anything of the woman but those clothes were instantly recognisable.  Who else
wore an almost all concealing robe of white silk which never got dirty?  As
she had on other occasions Selia mused that Madame Fleura's clothes reflected 
her self imposed isolation.  Unless she raised her arms the sleeves kept her 
hands hidden while the hood shaded her face.  Unless you were looking directly 
at her you would make out no details of her features.  Which limited it to the 
merchants she dealt with since, while she did no harm, all considered it wise 
to avoid staring at her.  Just in case she took it as rudeness and why risk a 
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sorceress's ire unnecessarily?
     At least that was the opinion of the older villagers, Selia and most of 
the younger generation considered the elders idiots for thinking like that.
Madame Fleura was harmless ... okay so they wouldn't stare her in the face 
or go talk to her but that was from respecting her privacy not because they 
were scared of her.  Same reason they kept away from her home.  Pure courtesy,
not a hint of fear involved.  Honest.
     So Selia told herself as she watched the sorceress without drawing 
attention to herself as she wondered at a new puzzle.  Usually the sorceress
was trailed by hovering baskets full of produce but today there was nothing. 
Selia had never seen the sorceress enter the village other than on business
so there was a mystery here.  Except the mystery was forgotten and her grip
on the broom tightened as the sorceress turned to face her.  Selia knew she
wasn't scared Madame Fleura so she couldn't understand why she felt 
butterflies in her stomach as the sorceress approached.
     As she wandered the village it occurred to Fleura she no longer knew 
any of the villagers these days.  It been over ten years since she dismissed 
her parents' servants for reasons that had seemed important at the time.
No doubt they had all since gone on to other things.  Not that they would have
missed her.  Few of them had any affection for her or had served without fear.  
The only one who had genuinely liked her, old Profiole, was deep in senility 
and in the care of her family.  
    Fleura smiled at the happier memories.  She had never been able to 
discharge her cook and childhood nanny and had let the old woman stay on until
(though she never would admit it) she wasn't fit to work anymore.  Profy (as
Fleura had called her for as long as she could remember) hadn't wanted to go
and it had taken the best efforts of Fleura and Profy's family to get her to 
move out of the manor and return to the village.  She had insisted she had to
stay and take care of the "young miss".  Her family had been delighted to
have her away from the sorceress though perhaps even more overjoyed by the  
sizeable retirement gift Fleura had made from the dwindling horde left by her 
parents.  If they had spent it wisely they might well still be supporting 
themselves with it.  Fleura remembered Profy had never bothered about the
money and worried about her being alone.  Her parting words had been advice
for Fleura to stop sitting here waiting for that boy to come back.  To go 
find him herself or at least find somebody to share her life.  Good advice 
perhaps if that had been the only reason for her isolation.  But close as they
had been even Profy didn't know the whole story.  In all the world only one
person did, the one she searched for.  A boy last time she saw him but a man
by now.    
     If that had been him today.  Sixteen years was a long time, why did she
feel so sure that was Koram?  A brief glimpse and she was convinced he had
returned.  The more she thought about it the less sense she made.  Could it
be nothing more than a chance resemblance?  Some random wanderer who decided
to risk a look at Corum village's elusive sorceress and panicked when he saw
her?  Wasn't it possible this whole thing was nothing more than that?  
     Possible, but she wasn't about to turn back now.  Besides she had reached  
her destination.  Luck was with her as there was a maid standing in the 
doorway who could answer her questions.  The girl looked vaguely familiar,
perhaps she had tried sneaking into Fleura's garden as a child.  It occurred 
to Fleura that she enjoyed those visits more than she admitted.  Solitude got 
very monotonous.  Shaking off her introspection she strode over hoping the 
									3	

girl could provide a few answers.
     Fighting butterflies and trying unsuccessfully not to look nervous Selia
watched the sorceress approach.  The older woman stopped before and seemed
to be searching for the right words.  She looked a little embarrassed.  
    "Ah, excuse me but ... have you seen him?"
    She raised a sleeve and a hand emerged holding what looked like a glass 
ball.  Though a finer glass than Selia had ever seen, it could almost be a 
soap bubble.  Within the ball floated a small bust of a young boy.  Selia 
looked at it and shook her head almost immediately. 
     "I am sorry but I have never seen him before in my life."
     Fleura felt a little foolish.  "I should have mentioned this is an old
picture.  Today he would be as old as I am."  Without even looking again
Selia shook her head.
     "He has never stayed here or even passed through the village."
     "How do you know that?  You barely even looked at it!"  
     Selia spoke respectfully while indicating a feature of the image, 
careful that her finger didn't touch the glass.
     "Madame Fleura, if another sorcerer had visited the village everyone
would still be talking about it."
     The words rang true and Fleura felt like a fool.  Still she soldiered
on.  "Please look again and ignore the mark.  Have you seen anyone who looks
like this."
     Selia looked again to humour the sorceress though her eyes were 
automatically drawn to the mark below the auburn hair ...  Selia blinked and
began to really look at the picture.  The eyes were a match and there were 
some similarities to the face but it had to be a coincidence.  Fleura saw 
the recognition in Selia's face and drew closer in her eagerness.  Selia
involuntarily stepped backwards, still clutching her broom.  Fleura advanced
eagerly.
     "You do know him!"
     Taken aback Selia backed away again.
     "No, there's no other sorcerers around here."
     "But you've seen someone who looks like him?"
     Selia protested, "We have a guest who looks a little like him but he's 
a travelling warrior looking for work.  A swordsman, not a sorcerer!" 
     "But he looks like this boy."
     "A bit.  But only a bit!
     "What is his name?  It's Koram, isn't it?"
     "No, Kain!  Kain the mercenary!"
     Fleura stopped advancing and felt puzzled.  "Kain?"  The name was odd
yet vaguely familiar.  She had seen it before somewhere ... had she read it
during her studies?  That seemed right but where ...?  Her musings ended as
she realized the girl was still standing before her nervously fidgiting and
looking like she would rather be elsewhere.  She should release her but first
a few more questions needed to be asked.
     "Has he been staying here long?"
     "He arrived late last night ... said he'd be moving on in a few days."
Selia hoped blurting that last part hadn't been a mistake.  The sorceress's
mind seemed to be elsewhere but Selia didn't dare move until dismissed.  
Fleura noticed and felt disappointed that her nature was still so feared.
Then chided herself as she recognised the source.  It wasn't the all 
encompassing fear of mages so common elsewhere but more the generalized fear 
									4

that would have kept Selia from turning her back on any social superior be
they mundane or magician.  There was no sense prolonging her discomfort, she 
could brood more comfortably at home.
     "When do you expect him back?"
     "He didn't say but I'd imagine this evening.  Until we serve supper at
sunset most guests don't return for the night."
     "Thank you.  If you should see him tell him if he would care to drop by   
my home I'd like to discuss a few things."
     The girl nodded so hard Fleura wondered that her head didn't fall off.
Fleura pressed a coin into her hand and wondered if she had really seen 
veiled jealousy behind the servile respect.  Could she have her eye on Koram?
It was a bit hard to think of the boy she had known as the object of a
teenage crush ...  or at any rate other than her own.  Best not to count on 
her message getting passed on ungarbled.  Amused, despite a vague indignation, 
she strode across the square to the market.
      Behind her Selia wondered what the sorceress wanted with Kain and why
she was looking for a sorceror with a chance resemblence.  Could he be Kain's  
brother?  She caught the gleam of something shiny on a tabletop and saw the 
glass ball Madame Fleura had left behind catching the sunlight.  Curious, 
Selia reached out to pick it up resolving to study the image again.  As she 
did she realized it was now empty.  Then her fingers touched it and the sphere
popped like a soap bubble.  There wasn't even any dust left behind.
     Selia leaned her broom against a table, pulled out a chair and sat down.
She had no idea what was going on but this had to be the most confusing day
of her life.  Maybe if she put it all together it would make sense.  What she
didn't know was that it was a hopeless task.  She would never put the whole 
picture together.  Not because she wasn't smart enough but simply because she 
lacked several key facts.  Things the sorceress knew that she didn't, still
even having all the facts was no guarantee of finding an answer.
     Fleura reappeared in the anteroom of her home, shrugged off her still
immaculate shoes and headed for her dressing room.  Her mind on other things
she hung up her spell shielded travelling robe leaving her wearing a light 
green dress that reached to her ankles.  Glancing at her reflection she 
wondered when she had become so conservative.  Growing up she had been a real 
tomboy, getting her into a dress was nigh impossible.  As she looked she 
wondered why she was wondering this.  What did it matter, who was there to see 
her?  Yet she took a moment to riffle through her closets looking for clothes 
with a more daring cut.
     Shaking off the odd mood Fleura headed for the library.  She had a 
puzzle to solve.  She spent many of her evenings in here but instead of
going to the shelves that held the well thumbed horticulture and gardening
texts or the racks of poetry and novels she headed for the older section.
The magic books, both theory and practice of magic.  Her parents legacy that 
had taught her how to use her innate abilities.  A task they had not lived to 
handle personally.
     Of late she hadn't studied them much.  Having learned to do what she 
needed and lacking interest in studying them further to increase either her 
knowledge of magic or her personal power they had rested undisturbed.  
Locating the text she wanted she pulled it free and noted that the spells that 
kept her house clean didn't dust the books.  An oversight on her part.  She 
blew the dust off, almost immediately a tiny whirlwind sprang from a corner of 
the room.  Anyone looking closely would have seen it originate from the 
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geometric symbol on a small plaque set just above floor level.  The dust devil 
sucked in the dust then disappeared with a pop taking its cargo with it.  
Fleura made a mental note to renew the plaque, its power was definitely 
fading.  She took a moment to ponder why so many sorcerers used servants when 
magic was both more efficient and tireless.  Then answered her own question as 
she had many times before.  It was a drain on their resources, very minor but 
sorcerers could be a stingy lot.  But the real reason was so many liked 
lording it over people.  Making them do menial duties was about the most minor 
way they expressed contempt for commoners.
     Fleura shook her head, nothing she could do about that.  All she could
control was her own behaviour.  She bothered nobody and nobody bothered her.
Which had been fine for years but of late she had become aware of a growing 
ennui.  It wasn't enough anymore but what was the alternative?  Commoners
could never be at ease around sorcerers and other sorcerers wouldn't approve 
of her lifestyle.  Which rather limited the options.  It had long time since 
she had a friend and he was long gone.  Except maybe he was back.  Maybe.
Fleura laid Alorri-Zrokros, "Book of the Elders" on the reading desk (too big
and unwieldy to use one of the comfy chairs) and sat down.  She opened it to 
the K's and found the name she sought.  She began to read.
     "Kain: Central figure in the Wagnerian legend cycle (qv)  Supposedly 
one of the first men created by the nameless god who populated the Earth with 
humanity.  According to Wagnerian mythology humans were originally created 
solely to praise and glorify their senile creator but Kain would not accept 
this destiny.  Instigated the first rebellion in the infant mankind Kain lead 
men to divide into those who followed and those who rejected their god's 
worship.  The first war began with Kain killing his brother Abel, the 
favourite of their god.  After that bloodshed became common with Kain in the 
forefront of every battle.  With most of his worshippers dead the god withdrew 
from the Earth but not before taking vengeance on Kain.  Kain was cursed with 
partial immortality, vulnerable only to acts of violence, so that the strife 
he had introduced to mankind would one day claim him.  Until then he must 
endure as the only unchanging thing in a world of ceaseless change.  Forever 
apart from his fellow men.  A mark was placed on Kain so all who looked in 
his eyes would know him for a killer.  For his part Kain vowed to destroy his 
former diety and, according to later apocryphal accounts, eventually succeeded 
in his goal.  If Kain represents a real historical figure or is a merger of 
several creation myths has yet to be resolved by scholars."
     Fleura closed the book with a frown and pondered what she had read.  
The name was unusual and far from common.  The only people likely to know it
would be scholars and why would they choose to name a child after a mythical 
brotherslayer alleged to be the first killer to walk the Earth?  It made no 
sense.  Of more import was Kain really Koram?  The girl had seen a resemblance
but had been adamant that he wasn't a sorcerer.  Was it simply a coincidence?
Some similarity of features but nothing more than that?  Perhaps and yet she
wasn't convinced.  She felt she was missing something, something important 
that gnawed at her.
     Fleura focused on the face she had glimpsed.  Something had looked  
wrong but what?  She calmed herself, the harder she concentrated the less
likely she was to find her answer.  The trick was to look without looking.
One of her meditation techniques might serve.  She closed her eyes, focused
on her own heartbeat and let herself drift.  The outside world faded and
became irrelevant.  Nothing mattered except her breathing.  It slowed as
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calm descended, in, out, slower, calmer.  On the fringes of thought images 
flickered as her subconscious made connections.  At length one image grew
stronger and drifted towards her.  She didn't reach for it, just let in come 
closer.  Nothing mattered, all things in their time ... Then the image 
registered and her eyes flicked open as calm vanished!  It was a moment 
before she could think of anything but Kain's forehead, the scar right where 
Koram's mark would have been.
     Coincidence?  That seemed even flimsier now.  But if Kain was really 
Koram why become a swordsman?  Wasn't it guilt at shedding blood that drove 
him to leave all those years ago?  It made no sense.  A new thought intruded.
Was it possible Kain did not know he was Koram?  That the scar marked an 
injury that cost him his memory.  Or, more disturbingly, that the scar was
caused by Koram when he induced amnesia.  To escape the guilt he couldn't  
bear any longer.  Whatever the explanation she doubted it was all a 
coincidence.  Kain was, or at least had been Koram.  When he saw her this 
afternoon old buried memories emerged and scared him away.  It all seemed
plausible yet something still troubled her.  The name he bore; Kain, the
accursed one.  What if he already knew who he was and what he had done?  That   
the name reflected what he thought of himself.  It couldn't be and yet wasn't
she still bearing the burden of all those years ago.  Hadn't it shaped her own
life?  Without it would she have grown up just like her parents?  Arrogant and
treating the villagers like a flock of sheep to serve her.  Fleeced or 
slaughtered at her whim?  It all made horrible sense.  Fleura shuddered.  
     Resolve filled her.  If he was still suffering then she had to help him.
Perhaps he could help her in turn.  Perhaps this wasn't so terrible, perhaps 
this was just what both of them needed.  Her thoughts became more positive,
he would be back soon.  She felt sure of that.  When he did ... she dashed
to the nearest mirror and scowled.  Her hair needed work, so did her wardrobe.
Okay first things first.  A nice long bath while she worked out the best way
to handle this.  How should she greet him?  As the tomboy she had been, the
quiet woman she had become or should she emulate the more vivacious heroines
in her favourite novels?  She would have to think carefully about this.  As
she went to draw a bath Fleura's step was lighter than it had been in years.
Koram had kept their childhood pledge and come back to her.  Everything was 
going to be fine.
     By chance rather than intention Kain had stopped to rest in a pleasant 
spot.  The small hill gave him enough elevation to make out the roofs of the
village over the forest and the farms that stretched out beyond it.  A 
pleasant pastoral scene for anyone in the mood to appreciate it.  Which Kain
wasn't.  The only thing he cared about was that he didn't recognise this spot.
So if Fleura checked their childhood haunts she wouldn't find him.
     It might as well have been desolate wasteland for all he cared about the
scenery.  His gaze was turned firmly inward though it wasn't any more pleasing 
to contemplate.  He leaned against a century old oak tree scowling.  The 
remains of his lunch lay scattered around though.  Meagre pickings for the 
ants and birds even though he had felt no appetite.  But the purely mechanical
task of eating had occupied his mind and kept him from thinking about other
things.  But the distraction was gone and he had no way to avoid thinking
about it.
     Why had he come back here?  Because he had heard the village had a  
sorcerer and thought Fleura long gone.  She had always said she couldn't see 
why her parents hung around such a dump like Corum village when there was a 
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whole wide world to explore.  Soon as she grew up she was getting as far away 
as possible.  She had been serious and he had believed her.  By now she was
supposed to be a thousand miles away either living a wild life or settled 
down with a rich husband and a lot of snooty kids.  Even if he had expected
to find her here the idea that she was the sorceress had never crossed his
mind.  For a moment he almost smiled.  Fleura always had messed up his best
laid plans.  The trace of amusement vanished.  There was nothing to laugh
about.  He had a real problem and no idea what he was supposed to do about 
it.
      Kain bent forward so he could draw his sword then leaned back against
the tree.  Idly he raised it, holding it so the blade shaded his eyes from the 
sun's glare.  Most swords would glint in the sunlight but not this one.  Not 
his black bladed creation.  He lowered the sword and shifted position so he 
wasn't looking towards the sun.  It took him a moment to drive the sword into 
the ground before him, aiming to strike soil rather than the extensive roots 
that surrounded him.  Hilt upright the sword stood before him.  There it was,
his masterwork.  In many ways a part of him.  Since the day he forged it
everything had been clear.  He had a purpose and he knew exactly what he was 
doing.  Years ago he had begun his mission and never looked back.  Never a 
doubt in his mind, not once had he hesitated in his course.
     Until today.
     For the first time in years he didn't know what to do next.  It had all
been so simple.  Obvious.  Clear-cut.  Not now, not since he recognised the 
sorceress.  Now nothing made sense anymore.  What was he supposed to do?  He
had no idea and there was no one to resolve this for him.  He was alone and
for the first time that truly bothered him.  He stared at the sword hoping
to see an answer in it.  But while it was many things at base it was just
dumb metal.  It could no more answer him than a rock could.  Even if it had
been somehow aware wasn't it his creation?  All it could do would be share 
his confusion.  And rage.  He didn't know what to do and that made him very 
angry.
     His frustration was still with him that evening as he sat in the only
tavern in the village.  After emerging from the forest as evening darkened 
the sky he had made his way to the "Hoe and Plough".  He hadn't returned to
the inn yet, he had no appetite and was not in the mood for company.  He
wasn't really expecting drinking to solve any problems but it was the
traditional response when confronted with two rotten alternatives and he had
no better ideas.  Besides if he drank enough he could at least delay thinking 
about this until tomorrow.  But he knew this was no answer and simply dodging 
the question wouldn't solve anything.  Which only increased his frustration.
     The tavern was full of craftsmen and farmers shaking off the strains of
another wearying day.  Despite which no one crowded Kain, it was as though
there was an invisible wall surrounding him.  But even if you were blind you
could sense the sullen anger and desire to be alone radiating from him.  None
of the men in the tavern considered themselves either cowards or weaklings.
But it was a long way from there to bothering an intensely brooding stranger
of unknown temper wearing a large sword which he looked like he knew how to
use.  Instead they respected his wish for solitude and kept clear of his 
booth, getting out of the way when he crossed to the bar to get a fresh ale. 
Alone and undisturbed Kain brooded.
      Why was he torturing himself like this?  Why didn't he head back to the
tavern, get something to eat, flirt with and perhaps bed Selia then move on
									8

in the morning.  Just forget about Fleura and depart.  What kept him here?
Nothing but his own will.
      Abruptly he became aware of the weight of the sword he wore.  Nothing 
but his will and his oath.  The blood oath he had taken when Stormbringer was  
forged.
     Kain snorted to himself.  Stormbringer ... he shook his head at the
vainglorious name he had given his creation.  He had still been a teenager 
when the sword was created and everyone knew magical swords always had names.
Even so picking such a legend encrusted name was pure arrogance.  He would
never forget what he had done so why choose a name that screamed both legend
and guilt?
     After a moment he shrugged, he'd been young and foolish and that had been 
one of his follies.  Today older and arguably wiser he wouldn't have bothered
nor would he if he ever had to forge another.  At base this was just the tool 
of his trade and how many craftsmen bother naming their tools?
     His mood darkened again.  The sword, everything always came back to the 
sword.  Wasn't it the focus of his entire life?  First learning to forge the 
damned thing then to wield it in the long years since.  Wasn't it the cause of 
his dilemma?  He had a pledge to fulfill but ...  
     The last traces of humour fled Kain's features.  He rose swiftly, 
and growled, "I need some air", to the startled tavern.  He stalked out 
through the sudden silence slamming the door behind him.  It was a few moments
before the babble of conversation began to cautiously resume.
     Kain stalked through the darkened village, no destination in mind, in a
vain effort to turn his thoughts from his pledge of years earlier.  No, from
both pledges he had made.  Two oaths he had sworn sincerely but which now  
were in conflict.  Honour, duty, friendship and loneliness whirled through his 
mind.  Which was the more important?  Which should he fulfill? 
     It suddenly struck him that he was walking though the darkness of an
unfamiliar village without a mis-step.  The village wasn't big enough that it
could afford street lighting by either torch or magic.  Candles flickered in
a few windows but they were few and far between.  Even with the starlight of
a cloudless sky his step shouldn't be so firm.  Kain stifled a sigh, he had
invoked nightsight without a thought.  An error he had not made in years.
Usually he was far more careful about acting normal.  But then, this was far 
from a usual situation.
     His step seemed firm so he hadn't drunk enough to have much effect, if
any.  Which meant whatever he decided there was nothing to stop him fulfilling
his choice.  Damn it all!  He glanced around seeking diversion.  To his left 
he saw a glow of light and the murmur of voices.  That had to be the inn but
he was in no mood to go there.  Selia might distract him but he feared she 
would serve more as a reminder of Fleura and the decision that must be made.
     The treacherous thoughts returneded.  Why not simply leave?  Just go and 
come back in ten or twenty years.  By then things might have resolved 
themselves and he would be free of this burden.  The idea seemed more 
attractive the more he thought about it.  Why not?  Who would ever know apart 
from him?  
     Perhaps he would have taken that option had he not entered the village
square.  Or perhaps he had been unconsciously heading there all along.  He
would never know for his gaze fixed upon the bulk of the monument.  He 
stepped closer, enhanced vision picking out the names carved into the pillar.
He ran a hand over them feeling the shape of the letters.  Seventy-seven
									9

souls, almost half of a village that had numbered one hundred and sixty-two
before the twister tore through its midst.  He didn't know how long he stood 
there but the light from the inn had darkened by the time he stepped away.  At
last he had an answer to his question, the answer was responsibility.  If
he turned away once then what would stop him doing it a second time?  Or a
third?  Or a tenth or a hundredth time?  Sometimes there were no alternatives.
He had always said his path was stern and uncompromising but he had not truly
understood what that meant until tonight.  There were no options, no turning
back.  Not without making his life a mockery and his quest an exercise in 
futility.  He knew what he had to do.  However painful it might be he had a 
duty to fulfill.  His decision firming with every step he began the walk to 
the sorceress's house.
     Fleura felt restless, still that was no surprise as she had been feeling
that way all night.  She put aside the book she had brought to kill time 
(though she had been unable to concentrate on the words) and rose to her feet. 
Once more she began pacing as she wondered yet again if waiting for Koram to
return was a bad idea.  He had never been an especially punctual kid, it 
might take him days to work up the nerve to return.  Maybe she should have 
returned to the village to hunt for him.  Maybe but she had lived alone for so 
long that she got edgy around crowds.  So remaining at the inn to wait for him 
would be a bad idea.  She was already ill at ease enough at the thought of 
meeting him publicly  compounding her problems.  
     The sound of her footsteps seemed so much louder that usual.  Funny the
mansion seemed so much emptier than usual.  She paused by a mirror and studied 
her reflection, wondering if the modest blue dress trimmed with white lace was
the right choice.  Then shook her head at the idea.  Why was it so hard to 
forget those romantic daydreams?  This wasn't going to be some storybook 
reunion of long lost lovers.  They had been childhood friends, nothing more.
They hadn't had a chance to see if anything more would develop.  Besides why
should he have followed her path?  For all she knew he had a wife and half a
dozen kids waiting for him to return from whatever he was doing.  Getting
too carried away by her imagination was foolish ... what was that?
     Fleura frowned in puzzlement, uncertain if she had felt the wards 
sense something or not.  It took a moment to fashion a dozen will-o-the-wisps 
and send them off to search the grounds.  They were back in moments having 
found nothing.  The flicker in the wards had just been her own imagination,
nothing human to be found and the wardlines repelled animals who would damage 
the grounds.  She was the victim of an overactive imagination combined with a 
minor fluctuation.  Or at least she had been but now she felt someone passing 
through the wards on their way to the door.  
      Kain had been nearby for some time.  On arrival he had stood on the 
other side of the wards and stood there studying the house.  At length he 
managed to steel himself and walked through the wards.  Stealth wasn't 
appropriate, not here.  He strode to the door and reached for the bellpull.  
Then hesitated and tried the door handle.  It turned easily, neither locked 
nor latched.  He stood there a moment longer then opened the door and stepped 
inside.  He wasn't too surprised to see Fleura was waiting for him.
     She stood at the other end of the well lighted hallway, next to a high
backed chair and a table holding a book, several bottles (one opened and half 
empty) and a pair of glasses.  That didn't make this any easier.  He knew he 
should simply fufill his vow and depart, that speaking to her would simply 
make it harder.  He knew all that but he couldn't face that.  There were 
									10

things he had to know, no matter what the cost.  Part of him knew he was 
looking for a loophole but he ignored it.
     She had changed from the tomboy he remembered.  Pretty rather than 
beautiful but still recognisable.  Though these days there would be no way
anyone could mistake her for a boy.  As he studied her she studied him, he
wondered how he compared to the kid she had known.  Probably unfavourably,  
he looked harsher and much more weathered than that long gone child.  She
obviously had no idea if she should keep her distance, come forth to greet him 
or rush forward to embrace him.  Hopefully she would stay where she was, 
he prayed she would.  Or this would be so much harder.  
     Fleura was the first to speak.  "Koram?"
     Her visitor shook his scarred head.  "Koram has been gone a very long 
time.  My name is Kain."  Well he knew who he was at least.  
     "An odd choice."
     "Not to me."  There was an awkward silence before Kain spoke again.  "I
suppose I should have known you were a sorceress.  Why else would my parents 
have let us be friends?  But it still makes no sense to me.  I wasn't the
most observant child and you used to have that pageboy haircut that stopped
just short of your eyes.  But we used to play some pretty rough and tumble 
games so I must have seen your forehead lots of times.  Why don't I remember
your mark?"
     "For the same reason you never saw me work any magic.  In my bloodline
while the boys are born with the mark the girls have just the faint outline.
Mine was fainter than most.  It doesn't become distinct until we reach 
womanhood.  My menses began when I was thirteen which was when my powers 
kicked in.  By then you had been gone almost three years."
     He nodded as the light dawned.  "I had heard that's how it happens 
for some female sorcerers.  They can only learn magic theory while their 
brothers have powers from the start.  But when the power arrives it is greater
than their brothers and more focused from their years of study."  
     "I wouldn't know.  I was an only child and my parents weren't around to 
teach me how to use my powers.  I had to teach myself the art from their 
books."
     "Oh."  Kain tried to think of something else to say.  "As I say I had 
heard of this before but I had never seen it."
    "Yes you had."
    Kain gave an embarrassed laugh.  "I suppose I had."   He held his ground,
Fleura began to casually move closer while keeping the conversation rooted
in their shared past.
     "I suppose you've figured out that our parents intended us to marry?"
     Kain twitched.  "That ... never occurred to me but it's obvious now you 
mention it.  But there's so much I don't understand.  Why did they bring us
here in the first place and why didn't they ever mention the arrangement." 
     "To answer the second part we barely saw our parents except by 
projection and they didn't exactly spend a lot of time on us and our feelings.
Our job was joining our families and bloodlines so the next generation would 
be stronger.  If we actually liked each other or not was irrelevant.  We were 
going to be married, that was inevitable.  So why bother telling us about it 
until we were old enough to make it official?"
     "That sounds like my parents from what little I remember about them.  But
how do you know all this?"

									11

     She shrugged.  "I read all their papers years ago.  Which is how I know
the answer to the rest of your other question.  The reason our parents set
up house in such a small, out of the way village is because Corum is a small
village a thousand miles from anywhere.  They figured the war would never
reach here so once they had bullied the locals into submission they could 
leave their progeny here in safety while they headed off to the war." She  
gave a half laugh.  "They were right about that much, the war never reached 
here so we were safe.  Of course they didn't figure they had backed the 
losing side or that none of them would survive to collect us."  She stopped  
her slow advance and looked up at a portrait on the wall.  A man and a woman
in their thirties, both bearing the sorcerer's mark.  "News travels slow.
The war ended thirteen years ago but it took another two for word to reach
Corum that the masters weren't coming back.  By then I had my own powers so
things continued much as they always had around here.  Except I was getting
increasingly uncomfortable with being waited on hand and foot so I started
reducing the staff.  Over at your parents place the servants were still 
maintaining the house in case you ever came back.  It seemed like a waste so 
I told them to forget it and go find something useful to do.  They didn't, 
not right away but people were starting to accept me as the only sorcerer in
Corum.  Over time your family's servants drifted away, getting bolder and 
walking off with more and more stuff went they left.  Eventually the place 
began falling apart without repairs or anyone to reinforce the structural 
spells and the roof caved in.  After that happened everyone decided you were 
never coming back and started dismantling what was left whenever they needed 
finished stone for building."  A new thought intruded.  "Uh, you don't hold 
that against them?"
     "No, I was never planning on living there again."
     "Good ... but if you're not looking for your legacy why did you come 
back?  I was hoping you remembered our pledge but the more I look at you the
less I believe that.  You've got some reason for being here but it's not to 
fulfill some childhood promise."
     He didn't answer directly.  "I didn't expect you to still be here.  You
always said you were going to travel.  Instead you've been here sitting here
playing gardener the past sixteen years!?"  He sounded oddly outraged for
some reason.  Fleura laughed again.
     "What makes you think I never left?"  She waved an arm to indicate the
grounds surrounding them.  "Do you think I just made all that appear by 
magic?"
     "Well, no.  I didn't feel anything from them."
     "Right.  So I had to get the seeds somewhere and Corum's not exactly a
horticultural showplace."
     "So how ...?"
     "Transport magic.  I found I've got a talent for it.  That's my 
speciality.  I've done a lot of travelling over the years."  She sighed.  "But
I always end up coming back here to my secure little niche.  Guess I'm not as
adventurous as I thought.  But my encounters with outsiders aren't to my 
liking.  Commoners are scared of me on sight while other sorcerers ..."  She
shook her head.  "You wouldn't believe some of the things I've seen!"  She
frowned, again taking in his battleworn visage.  "Strike that, I imagine 
you've seen plenty in your travels."
     "Yes."

									12

     For a single word it carried plenty of weight.  Momentarily thrown off
her stride Fleura resumed, "So wherever I go I always wind up back here
sooner or later.  Usually sooner.  People have a more comfortable attitude 
around here.  I don't bother them and they aren't too worried about me.  This 
is probably as peaceful as it can get between sorcerers and commoners."
     He nodded slowly.  "I believe you're right.  He took a step back and 
gestured at a window.  "It's a beautiful garden.  You don't use magic to
maintain it?"
     She demurred, "Well I keep the grass cut by magic, a variant on my 
dusting spells and I've got a number of magics to cure root-rot and other
plant diseases.  But I generally try to keep magic out of the garden, elbow
grease works better in the long run.  Use magic to wipe out weeds and you 
find out just how many flowers are close enough to them to shrivel up too.
Accelerate plant growth and next time it sprouts it's deformed, the wrong 
colour or bearing weird looking fruit.  Same with seeds boosted to grow by  
spells.  Short term solutions and I've learned by trial and error to take the
long view."  He was still keeping his distance which made no sense.  Okay so
he might not feel any romantic impulses but each of them had been the only 
friend the other had growing up.  Why was he so standoffish?  What had 
happened to him since he walked away from his home sixteen years ago?  She had 
to find out.
     "So what of you, Kor ... Kain?  Now you know my life story what about
yours?  What have you been doing since you left Corum?"
     He didn't answer directly.  Instead he drew his sword from its sheath 
and balancing it by tip and hilt held it out for her inspection.  The black 
metal seemed to drink in the light but she could just make out that it was 
covered with runes she could not read.  But even without seeing the magical
marks she could feel the sword's power from here.  It was obviously enchanted  
and yet felt strangely wrong.  Not cursed or radiating evil they way some
legendary demon swords were said to but it felt like ... like nothing she 
could really describe.  The closest she could come was the feeling that 
something unspecified was missing.  Before she could gather her thoughts he
spoke at last.
     "My early adventures would be of no interest to you and are irrelevant 
to me.  My life did not truly begin anew until I forged Stormbringer."
     Fleura tried unsuccessfully to understand what he was trying to say.
"You ... learned to become a blacksmith?  To make magic swords?"
     "No, this is the only one I made.  I learned to make the sword I would
need ... and to use it."
     "But that makes no sense!  Mercenaries don't have to create their own
weapons, they buy them!  Even if making enchanted swords is a lost art there's
plenty around if you search for them and that has to be a damn sight easier 
than learning to make your own.  Especially for someone like you!  Why would 
you go to all the trouble of making your own?  Incidentally that name is in 
very poor taste!"  Fleura realized she was getting frustrated.  Why couldn't 
he just tell her what this was all about?  Instead he just nodded and kept
dancing around the subject.
     "As a rule you would be right but this is an exception.  The mission I
had set myself required a very special sword and since all of its kind are
hard to detect I had to make my own."  Fleura took a deep breath before she 
said something she would regret.  Don't explode, just ask the question.

									13

     "So what is this mission that's kept you on the road for sixteen years?
Do you realize I didn't have a clue if you were alive or dead?  We still get
a monthly mail delivery, how hard could it have been to send a letter!"
     He hesitated before answering.  "I ... I am sorry to have concerned you
but I felt a clean break with the past was for the best.  I wasn't Koram
anymore and I wasn't coming back.  I really thought you'd forget him and move
on."
     "Idiot!"    
     "What?!"
     "I called you an idiot.  'Clean break with the past', indeed!  You 
haven't got over it anymore than I have.  That's why you left and why you've
become whatever it is you're not telling me!  It's pretty bloody obvious that 
it shaped your life the same as mine.  I was there too, did you really think 
I'd just forget it?"  
     He looked a bit taken aback at her outburst.  "You were just a witness!
The responsibility ..."
     "It was an accident.  Neither of us guessed what would happen and in case
you've forgotten that whole mess was triggered by you trying to show off to
me!  So any responsibility isn't all yours!"  She threw up her hands in   
frustration.  "Boys!  Men!  You're all hopeless!  Now stop messing around and
tell me what the big damned secret is!  What have you been doing all these
years and why did you need a magic sword?"  She hadn't got this worked up in  
years, Koram always had managed to bring our both her best and worst.  An
unpleasant idea struck her.  "Gods!  You haven't really become some sort of
wandering mercenary spilling blood for money?"
     "No, I use the guise but only for camouflage.  I have a purpose and I 
have always been true to it."
     Finally she was going to get some answers.  "So what's the big secret?
If you're not a mercenary then what are you really?"
     He looked her in the eye and spoke without hesitation.
     "A sorcerer killer!"

To be concluded