DDDDD ZZZZZZ // D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE || D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 10 -=========================================================+|) D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 3 DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE || \\ \ ======================================================================== DargonZine Distributed: 04/26/1997 Volume 10, Number 3 Circulation: 645 ======================================================================== Contents Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb Thought and Feeling Jim Owens Early Spring, 1016 Night Two Max Khaytsus Naia 11, 1015 The Long Way Home Josh Brown 15 Ober 1014 Shattered Love 2 Mark A. Murray Sy 1015 ======================================================================== DargonZine is the publication vehicle of the Dargon Project, a collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet. We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project. Please address all correspondance to or visit us on the World Wide Web at http://www.shore.net/~dargon. Back issues are available from ftp.shore.net in members/dargon/. Issues and public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon. DargonZine 10-3, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright April, 1997 by the Dargon Project. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb . All rights reserved. All rights are reassigned to the individual contributors. Stories may not be reproduced or redistributed without the explicit permission of the author(s) involved, except in the case of freely reproducing entire issues for further distribution. Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden. ======================================================================== Editorial by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb Three months of jury duty is a nightmare. Or it would be for most people. For me, on the other hand, it was something of a sabbatical, increasing my free time and enabling me to put some major time into updating the DargonZine Web site. I spent this free time reviewing how our Web site was organized and coming up with changes that will make it easier to use, as well as lots of ideas about new services that will benefit both our readers and our writers. Some of those changes have been put in place already, and some (probably the best) are yet to come. As with any Web site, the DargonZine site is never "finished", but will continue to evolve over time with changes in the information it delivers, the technology which delivers it, and the aesthetics of those to whom it is delivered. But I can at least announce some of the recent changes. The most notable addition to the Web site at this time is the availability of all of DargonZine Volume 7 (calendar year 1994) in HTML format. It is our goal to convert all our back issues to HTML, but we have a lot of back issues and it's an arduous and time-consuming process. We now have the past four years online, and will continue to convert more as time permits. In addition to the back issues, we've reorganized certain sections of the Web site and updated many pages. We've added several new maps to the "About DargonZine" page, as well as recalculated the results on the "Reader Profile Responses" and "Questionnaire Responses" pages. The "Archives" section has been revised, as has the "Links" page, the "Writers" section, and the "Current Issue" display on the splash page. Future changes include major revisions of the "Subscriptions" section, as well as reorganization and clarification of the "About DargonZine" and "Dargon Resources" sections. In addition, we're developing a new format for our stories and issues, as well as introducing a site-wide navigation bar. So expect continuing changes in the site as it evolves and improves. And let us know if any of the changes work particularly well or particularly poorly. After all, the site has to work for you -- the reader -- or it hasn't served its purpose. The other big news is the upcoming 1997 Dargon Writers' Summit. Despite the fact that we're working together constantly, DargonZine's writers have very rarely had the opportunity to meet face-to-face. And it wasn't until 1995 (ten years after FSFnet's founding) that we tried to organize any kind of formal gathering. In that year, we held a very small gathering in Boston, and last year we held a slightly larger gathering in Denver. Both were trial runs designed to guage whether larger organized meetings would be feasible and productive. Both the Boston and Denver meetings were successful, and so this year we're trying our first larger gathering. The 1997 DargonZine Writers' Summit will take place the weekend of May 10th in Washington DC, and will be hosted by Jon Evans. We've got a lot planned for our 48 hours together, and it should be both a fun and productive weekend. I'll be sure to tell you all about it both in our next issue as well as on the Web site. This issue starts out with another new story from project co-founder Jim Owens, who continues his ongoing depiction of the lives of Levy and Sarah Barel. In this episode, we get to see a little more of their interaction in a story that says a great deal without shouting. We then continue with "Night Two", the second story in Max Khaytsus' new Deep Woods Inn series. We learn a little bit more about what happened in the previous episode, and the travellers are faced with a difficult decision. Josh Brown joined the project last October, and stayed only long enough to see "The Long Way Home" through to publication. He's given in to the pressures of real life and left the project, but assures us that he'll be back shortly. Finally, DargonZine 10-3 culminates with the climax of Mark Murray's long-running series about Raphael and Megan, Kell and Loth. But you can bet that it certainly isn't the end... Enjoy, and look for us again in June, after the Writers' Summit! ======================================================================== Thought and Feeling by Jim Owens Early Spring, 1016 Sarah made the walk from the house to the meeting hall alone. Only when she approached the great door did she meet up with Lara, her friend. "Hello, Sarah," Lara said solicitously. "Alone tonight?" "Yes, Lara," Sarah replied, tight-lipped. "The children are asleep already." "Still no Levy?" "No Levy." They moved through the thin crowd slowly. The town meeting had been called because of some portent from the outer world that only vaguely seemed important to Sarah. Nonetheless, she was there, along with most of the rest of the villagers. "The nights have been cold, haven't they?" asked Lara as they walked, referring to more than the weather. "No, I've not slept with him for about a week," Sarah replied, cutting to the point. "He's sleeping down in the old house with the oldest." The admission left her feeling naked, exposed, partly because of her anger, partly because of her loss. "Well, if he has anything to say to you, tonight's a good opportunity," remarked Lara dryly. "There he is." She nodded toward the back of the hall, where Levy was loitering by a stack of old looms and frames that made up the couple's habitual seating in town meetings such as this one. Sarah straightened her back and walked firmly toward him, moving through the mostly-seated villagers. "Hold him to it, Sarah," called Lara to her parting back. "Can we talk?" Levy asked, hand outstretched, as she approached. One glance at his face showed her that he was wanting to make up. She wondered if she were. She took his hand and allowed him to lead her into the jumble of old furniture, to where a few hay bales formed impromptu couches. They sat down, only their faces showing to the group gathered to hear the elder. Sarah faced the village leader's chair, not looking at her husband. As Eli called for attention, Levy leaned close to her, speaking softly so no one else could hear. "You're right, I should sell the horse," he said, squeezing her hand. She continued to look forward, answering in the same soft tone. "And the forge?" "I really can't move it," he replied. Sarah felt her ears start to burn. "Why, that's no compromise," she thought angrily to herself. "That's just him tossing me a bone so he can get what he wants!" "If that's what you think's best, do what you must," she remarked aloud, pulling her hand out of his. She didn't feel like arguing just now. She folded her hands atop the old clothes-chest they were both seated behind, and rested her chin on them. "... make travel in the area more dangerous in the immediate future ... " Elder Eli was saying, to a slightly bored audience. Levy settled down on the hay beside her, out of sight of the crowd. "I want to include what you think in my decision," Levy countered, not looking at her. She considered his words, but her heart was still burning. The argument had building over months. Levy had his horse, and his forge, and he was either making something or peddling it round about the countryside, going and coming as he pleased, while she was home with the children and the chores. The money he brought in was entirely of no consequence -- didn't they both already have more than enough money for the entire family? What was there to spend it on, anyway? Who had anything they wanted to sell, what with the war and all? She wanted her husband at home, where she needed him. As her silence grew, Levy continued. "I really can't put the forge in town," he continued. "The other villagers would complain about the smoke and noise, and would make me move it back again anyway. Besides, we're out in the field every day anyway -- why not just leave it there?" Now he's trying to convince me, she thought, like he always does. A small part of her felt a bit guilty, almost as if his argument was convincing, but the argument really had nothing to do with it. Levy was just away too much. He needed to be home, with her. He didn't need so much freedom. Did she wander from town to town? Did she disappear for hours and days at a time? "Just do what you need to, Levy," she replied. Elder Eli was speaking about some minor lord, somewhere nearby, and who was to replace him when he died. "If I put it in town I'll never get any work done. It'll be people in and out all day, bothering me with questions and gawking. " This was the real reason, she knew. He selfishly wanted to be alone, to hide from the world, and from her, even. "Besides, it's not like you don't use the forge, too," he countered. "What, once a month?" she snapped at him, spinning to face him. "All the way out there?" "If I tear it down we'll lose the money I make off it. You do still want that fabric from Dargon, don't you?" She almost sneered at him. "I could have bought that fabric four months ago, if there were any to be had! The money was never the problem!" "But then you couldn't have bought that targum seed," he chided softly. She felt her impatience growing. They were starting to argue about money, when that was not the real issue. Why did that always happen? Why did he always turn the conversation away? She knew in her heart that she did the same thing, but she did it for a different reason, to show him the completeness of the problem. He was just arguing. "Just do what you need to." She again turned away, her eyes watering involuntarily. "What I need is to make you happy," Levy replied. "That you have right," she almost said. Instead she turned to face him. "Do you really want to please me?" she asked him, giving him no where to turn. "Not all the time, I suppose," he replied. Now that's a new angle, she thought, her attention caught. She was listening again. "I should," he continued, "but I know I don't, not always. I suppose now is one of those times. I want to keep my forge where it is." "Well," she said, slipping down off her seat to recline beside him, "you have a decision to make, then. I want a husband who is home more than he is away. That would make me happy." "I want a wife that's happy. Therefore, the question is, which do I want more? A forge out alone, where I can work uninterrupted, or a wife who is pleased with me?" "That's the question, Levy Barel." In spite of her anger, Sarah was with her husband. Few men in the village would have had the wisdom and courage to admit what he did. But if he could admit it, why did he still cling to such a stupid claim? How simple it would be for him to just give in. It wasn't like she was forbidding him to have a forge. Couldn't he see that she wanted this? That she needed this? That she needed him? The forge she could live with, no matter where it was, but how could she live with a man who held back on her, who held out on her? Hadn't she given him everything she had? Hadn't she given him her very self? She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was weighing both sides of the issue. She wanted to slap him, and was about to push away from him and get up when the look in his eyes changed. Sarah held her breath. The cold, calculating expression faded from his face, draining away, and was replaced by a yearning, a look of abject poverty of soul. She hadn't expected this. It didn't happen very often, and it was almost frightening, because she knew that he was dropping the walls around his heart. She had seen the look before, and it always amazed her. This was not something she was able to do -- this complete exposure of the self to the will of another. But Levy could. It faded after a moment, but not completely. It remained a faint glimmer in the back of his eye. "I suppose I could get Mattan to help me move the shed, if I asked him nicely," Levy finally admitted. Sarah almost laughed through her tears. It was like watching a dam burst, and a mere, small stream come out. Yet that was all it would take. She knew that once Levy made the first step, he would complete the journey. The argument was over, but the piled up emotions remained, a logjam that threatened to disrupt the flow of their new-found peace. "You remind me again of why I love you," she said matter-of-factly. She leaned forward, still hurting, but wanting now to touch him. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she drew away, not ready for intimacy. She still smarted from his obstinacy, but he had finally given her what she needed, so she could again give him what he wanted, once the pain subsided. "And as for my being away from home so long ..." Sarah held her breath. "Now what?" she wondered. "... Now that the children are older, perhaps we could all make some of the trips now. I know it's a chore, but I know that you have been wanting to get out, and you could be with me, wherever I am." Sarah's jaw dropped in shock. "Is he crazy?" she wondered silently. "What sort of idea is that?" But then her dismay was replaced by intrigue, as images of her own childhood home came to mind. When was the last time she had visited her father's grave? When was the last time she'd seen the deep green trees of her youthful home? A warm joy diffused into her mind at the idea of returning to hills where she was born. And then, the terror of the idea returned. Take the children? The baby? But this time her joy held her terror back. "We'll see," was all she said. The sounds of the crowd rose, indicating the end of the meeting. Levy withdrew his hands as they both arose. She smiled warmly for him, holding his hand firmly, sniffing back her tears. Her head was content: things were again right, even if her heart was still unsettled. They could get back to the business of life, with each other to lean on. That was all that mattered. Her emotions would catch up in time, and could be concealed until then. "Well, father will want to talk to me," he muttered, smiling shyly. "I won't be long." "Don't be," she admonished, not really feeling it. She let her touch linger as they pulled away. As he walked away she settled back onto the hay bale, sorting out her thoughts. When he returned to her bed tonight he would expect and deserve a warm reception, and if she could, she would provide one. She had no qualms about acting out an affection tonight that she wouldn't feel until tomorrow. Not all of one's actions had to be spontaneous. It occurred to Sarah that her body might be unreceptive as well. No matter. Levy would work at that, and possibly even achieve it. Besides, the joy of making up was sometimes worth the pain of the fight. Suddenly her emotions came flooding out her eyes, and she wept for a moment. Then she got up, straightened her skirt, and headed for the house. She encountered Lara at the door again. Lara had a curious look on her face. "Well? What were you at, back there?" She waited, expectantly. Sarah thought a moment. "We were making love," she replied, then left the wordless Lara behind. She walked out into the chill, star-lit night. Looking up at the stars she considered. Had she lied just then? No, not really. Love had to be made, just like anything else in life. You just used different tools. She continued on alone, to await her lover. ======================================================================== Night Two by Max Khaytsus Naia 11, 1015 "Shor?" Jana stuck her head through the trap door leading to the topmost balcony over the common room. The Lashkirian warrior stood with his back to her, looking down at the common room below. The balcony was right below the ceiling of the inn's extended third floor, just roomy enough to prevent the Lashkirian from having to bend down. Below, in a larger and wider concentric ring sat the second floor balcony with doors leading to rooms. It was set further out, causing the topmost floor to protrude out above it, making it seem like the extended portion of the rafters. Thirty feet below it all, lay the floor of the common room, with eight tables along walls, forming a semi-circle, leaving the center of the room open and clear. The east end of the room opened into the vestibule of the inn, disappearing under the low overhang of the second floor, separating what must have been the old and new portions of the building. "Shor?" Jana climbed up to the balcony and walked up to him, holding the rail for support. "I didn't realize how open the room is to this balcony," Kishore said to Jana, as she stopped by him. "You can see every corner from here ... " "Are you setting up an ambush?" He turned his head. "Are you afraid of heights?" "What makes you say that?" "Your bad jokes and the way you stand. You're wittier, usually." "I'm just a little scared. I'll be fine if I don't look down." "Sit," Kishore offered. "You were telling me about Tench last night, before the brigands came." Jana sat down by the trap door, placing her back against the wall. The bandits from the night before, she remembered nervously, came to rob the inn, involving the guests in a fight and causing all of them to spend an extra day here, waiting for the local constable to show to clear things up. "You look a little pale," Kishore said, sitting down by her. "Perhaps we should go downstairs." "I'm fine, really." She took a deep breath. The chasm in the floor appeared right before her, seeming a league wide. "Last few days been too much for you?" Kishore asked. Jana nodded. "I didn't think those men would be killed." "They're brigands, Jana. Thieves. I am less worried about their well being than I am about yours. I am only sorry the time was so inappropriate." "I wanted some adventure, remember," Jana smiled. "And besides, you didn't know they would pick last night to raid the inn. It could have happened anywhere." "Nonetheless, it was bad timing." "Yes, but it would have to happen to me at one time or another. Better now, when there were people around, than later on, when I'm alone." "People died, Jana. You could have been one of them." Jana tilted her head towards Kishore. "I wanted to help." "Next time, please don't." She nodded. "I'm sorry." "You did not know that man from Pyn ... ?" "Pyenson. Pyenson Barony is in the southwest part of the duchy, right up against the Darst Range." She fell silent for a moment, then added. "I have no idea who the man is, other than a member of the House of Pyenson, judging by his dress. He was pretty far from home. I was afraid he'd recognize me. He gave his life for me instead." "Did that teach you anything?" Kishore asked. He was hoping she would decide she was reaching too far. "I learned that when my brother and I sparred, he held back. The fight caught me off guard." "I never intended for you to fall into danger like last night." "Don't worry about it. I was ready for a fight ... with the Narragan guard. The brigands just caught me unprepared. I am ready, now." "You only think you are," Kishore said. He had grown used to the girl's stubborn streak. "You were telling me about Tench." "Tench is in Narragan ... " Jana started thoughtfully. "How close to Armand?" "Not very. Actually, it's clear on the other side of the Duchy. There's also a military camp not far from there, Castle Pentamorlo, on the Dargon side, so the Ducal Guard does not patrol the area much." "Who do the troops answer to?" Kishore asked. "Lord Morion, a minor noble. The land was vested to him by three Kings of Baranur, so it's his now," Jana explained. "He's sort of a Duke, but not really. And his soldiers patrol the area, so there's no need for the Ducal Guard to go out of their way." "A sort of a Duke in a sort of a big place that is small?" Kishore inquired. Jana laughed. "Did I say that?" "Something like that." "Well, it is. The only reason Tench ever grew beyond a farming community is that it's at a major crossroads. Hawksbridge and Wachock are south of it and Miass, east in Asbridge. I guess those would be the choices for where to go after Tench." "Before we settle on a place," Kishore said, "how far do you intend to run?" "I ... " Jana looked up at her companion. "How far will you take me?" "How far will I ... " "Hey, anybody around here?" A gruff voice sounded below. Kishore leaned forward and looked down through the planks of the balcony rail. A large man in a faded military jacket stood in the middle of the common room, looking around. He scanned the balcony of the second floor with his eyes, but did not bother looking above that. "Who is it?" Jana whispered. "The constable, perhaps." "Can I help you?" Ravi's voice sounded down below. "I'm Constable Trumfor. I understand you folks had some guests last night." "We were the guests, Constable," Ravi answered. "Some men attacked us. They killed the proprietor." "Who is 'we', lady? And what is your name?" "My name is Ravi Lavgan and we -- the other guests and I -- were the people staying here for the night." "Yes, well ... " Footsteps sounded in the common room. "Giles Kreb, a pleasure to meet you, Constable." Metal clanked below. "You were here last night?" Trumfor asked. "Yes, I was." "I'm going to join them," Kishore whispered to Jana. "Stay here. You'll be able to see everything." "Yeah, as if I'll look." "If your curiosity gets the better of you, you will." "Don't pick a fight with the midget, Shor," Jana reminded him. "Not unless his tongue lashes out again." "Please, take a seat," Ravi's voice sounded as Kishore disappeared down the narrow ladder. "I'd be happy to," the constable answered. "It's unseasonably hot out there," he hinted to his hosts. Wood creaked, as if a heavy load settled into a chair and Jana leaned forward a bit, trying to see what was going on. She moved forward, only far enough to see the balcony of the second floor across the room before her fear forced her to lean back against the wall. "So, why don't you tell me the story from the start," Trumfor asked. "Of course, Constable." Another chair creaked. "Would you get us some mead?" Ravi asked. "What? Me?" Kreb groaned. "You're just sitting here." "And you're standing." "I'm telling a story. You get the constable something to drink." The midget grumbled and got up, the chair creaking once again. "So, what happened last night?" Trumfor asked again. Ravi sat down in the chair Kreb vacated, taking her time and trying the constable's patience. "We were here waiting for our meals, six of us, when four men walked in. Two waited in the entry and the other two ... " Kishore entered the common room from the vestibule stairs. "Ravi," he greeted the woman. "Kishore," she stood up. "Kishore Talluri, Constable Trumfor. The Constable is here to investigate the murder." "An honor, sir," Kishore gripped forearms with the man. The Constable was a heavy set man with greying hair and a weathered face. He was easily in his forties and possessed a powerful grip. "Continue, please," the constable insisted, returning to his chair. Kishore also sat down. "Two men waited in the entryway," Ravi went on, "while the other two entered the kitchen. I didn't give it much thought at the time; the men acted rather boldly, as if they belonged." "It really didn't look like they were here to kill anyone," Kishore interjected into Ravi's statement, "although they did have an air of arrogance about them." The Constable turned his head to Kishore, an irritated look on his face, but said nothing, seeing Kreb's return. The midget put three wooden mugs on the table and filled them from the pitcher he had brought. One mug was passed to the constable and another to Ravi. The third he kept for himself, having placed the pitcher back on the table. "I admit I'm much larger than you," Kishore leaned forward in his seat, coming nose to nose with the standing midget, "but a pitcher is far too large a mug for me." "So get yourself one," Kreb barked, pulling up a seat. "The story, please!" Trumfor interrupted the argument. "Well, after the men disappeared into the kitchen," Ravi went on, "we didn't do anything until the innkeeper started yelling. It sounded like he was in trouble then, so we all got up and confronted the two men who were watching us ... " "All of you. Three of you and ... ? You said you were six." "My friend, Salish, was with us," Kreb said. "And my ward," Kishore added. "And another patron, who was killed in the fight." "Where are they now?" the constable asked. "Jana is around, I expect," Kishore said. "She had little participation in the confrontation." "And the other one?" "Salish," Kreb repeated. "He was the one who rode out to get you. He'll be back tomorrow morning." "Yes, the skinny man," the constable remembered. "He said he was getting supplies." "After we confronted them, the men drew steel on us," Ravi said. "They had first strike, but not first blood." "And you killed them?" "Not that easily. Their companions in the kitchen joined them, as did two other men who apparently waited outside." "So there were six of them and six of you, and the innkeeper," the constable tallied the people. "Right, at first," Ravi agreed, "but the innkeeper was dead by then. They killed him before they left the kitchen. And another man joined us in the fight. While we fought, he came in the door and aided us in the fight. He's the only one from around here. A friend of the innkeeper." "Is he still here?" Trumfor asked. "Out back, I think. I left him there just recently." "Go on." "The bandits showed no will to yield, so we killed all of them in the fight." "Seven of you and six of them?" "Most of us seem to be trained fighters. We held our own." Ravi answered to the constable's skepticism. "Where are the bodies and where is the innkeeper's friend?" Trumfor asked. "The bodies are in the barn, also out back." "All right, let's go see about them," Trumfor got up. They all went into the vestibule and through the back room to get outside, Kishore pausing at the edge of the common room to take a look up. He could see just a trace of Jana on the top balcony, sitting back from the rail. The balcony was too high to naturally fall in his line of vision and so appeared to be a perfect hiding space. Outside Ravi brought the constable to Sand, who was splitting wood with an axe. Splinters flew in all directions each time he struck a log, but he would quickly turn it, or pull up another one, and strike again. "You're the innkeeper's friend?" Trumfor asked. It was obvious that he recognized the woodsman. "Yeah, what's it to you?" "Nothing, I suppose. Did the old man have any family?" "None that I know of," Sand said. "I know he built this place after his wife died, but I don't know if they had children." "You know what those bandits wanted from him?" "Money? Food? Room and lodging?" Sand said sarcastically. "Don't give me your mouth," the constable warned. "Show me the bodies." Ravi led him and the others to the barn and let them in. "They're in the back." Trumfor walked between the eight stabled horses, looking right and left at the animals. He paused by the white stallion that belonged to Jana, admiring the horse. "Nice, nice ... " Having looked in each of the twelve stalls, the constable turned to Ravi. "Whose animals are these?" "All but the three on the end are ours," Ravi responded. "I guess the extras are the innkeeper's. One could belong to the dead guest." "Are they?" Trumfor asked Sand. "I imagine so," he said. "I wasn't writing his ledger." "What about the bandits? They didn't walk, did they?" "I put their horses in the woods behind the house," Sand said. "Didn't want them recognized by others who may pass through." The constable nodded at that and entered the stall where eight bodies lay on the hay. He first looked over the dead innkeeper, pausing on the cuts in his neck and chest. "Quick cuts. They wanted him to die." "Look at his hand," Sand said. "They broke some fingers before they killed him." The constable picked up the dead man's hand and examined the now black bruises, then let it drop in the hay and looked at the other bodies. He paused again at the man who was obviously not with the brigands and straightened his tabard to get a better look. "Pyenson Barony, in Narragan, if I'm not mistaken. Know his name?" "We did not exactly have the time to ask," Ravi said. "It all happened pretty quickly." "And these are the six you killed?" "Yes." He looked the men over one by one, taking care to examine the cuts. "Someone bash this man while he was on the ground?" he asked, examining the split skull of the man Kishore had struck from above, the first casualty of the fight. "It was a rather vigorous battle," Ravi said. "I'm sure one of us did." "Well, no matter. This one has a reward of five silver on him. Ten, if he were alive." The constable looked at the last of the bodies, the man Sand killed after the fight ended. "Don't tell me this happened in the fight, too." The back of the brigand's skull was crushed and throat covered with bloody scratches. The body was stained with dried blood. "It was a rather vigorous battle," Ravi repeated. "I don't think any of us could say how that happened exactly." "Yes, well. I know him, too, and I don't care how he died. And if I'm destined to ever find his buddies, I wouldn't object to them suffering the same fate. Save the Duke's Advocate the bother of trying them." The constable stood up and critically examined the old barn. "You know, five years patrolling this part of the Duchy and this is the first time I stopped at this rat hole." He kicked the wall of a stall, causing the old board to crack. "I watered my horse in better swamps. Now I have to investigate this one ... " "I'm willing to offer any help that I can," Sand said. "I owe the man something for his kindness ... " "We're all willing to help," Ravi said. Kreb started to say something, but she kicked him instead. "We all suffered through the night." Trumfor brushed his chin, a little grey growth on it from the previous day. "Why don't I just deputize you for this and have you look?" "For what?" Ravi asked. "Why don't you come with me, all of you." Jana climbed down the vertical ladder off the top balcony, clinging to it for fear of falling. She hated heights, but she hated the idea of being seen by the local Constable even more. For that matter, she did not much want to be seen by anyone, including the people she had spent the night with at the inn. 'The Forgotten Inn', the sign proclaimed over the doors, and she had hoped that meant that this lone building, in the middle of nowhere, would be a quiet place to spend the night before continuing to Dargon, but instead it was besieged by guests, and later bandits. She had not wanted to spend the evening in a fight. At home brigands were rare. Narragan, like Dargon, was still a frontier of Baranur and justice in the Duchy was always rapid. Public executions were not uncommon and did their share to discourage crime. She had never heard of a group of men, such as this, being able to attempt what she had witnessed the night before. She had no doubt they would have killed everyone at the inn, had they been given a chance, and that made her wish she was back home. It was the first time she felt this way in her dozen days on the road and it scared her to think that her father was right when he told her she was not bred for a life of adventure. Jana hurried down the flight of stairs from the guest rooms, wanting to escape the inn for the deep woods outside, to wait for the Constable's departure, but instead, as she entered the vestibule, came face to face with the constable, returning from the back of the inn. The old soldier reflexively grabbed Jana, preventing a collision and the girl immediately shrunk back. "My ward," Kishore said, hurrying to the constable's side, protectively putting his arm around Jana's shoulders and pulling her back. "Constable Trumfor, Jana Wynn." "How old are you, girl?" "Sixteen," she hesitated before answering. "Yes, yes," Trumfor muttered and went on. "Are you all right?" Ravi asked Jana. "Yes," she nodded. "Go outside," Kishore said. "We will be done soon." Jana let out a breath of relief and hurried out the back way. Kishore hurried to catch up with the others in the common room. Constable Trumfor sat in his chair and took a long drink from a freshly filled mug. "There is a whole lair of these brigands somewhere here in the woods. Two dozen or so. I figure if you catch all of them -- all the right ones -- you'll earn yourselves a couple of gold Marks. Nothing to make you rich, but enough to keep you in rations for a year or two." "Why haven't they been caught yet?" Ravi asked. "Because they're not that big a problem," the constable answered. "They're just annoying enough to have a price on their heads, but not enough of one to summon bounty hunters or send the Guard after them. Bring 'em in and I'll pay you." "Where are they?" Kreb asked, a greedy sparkle in his eyes. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be here telling you to go find them." "How will we know it's them if we find them?" Ravi asked. "There are travellers on this road and people in these woods." "Your first clue will be them trying to rob you," Trumfor laughed. He downed the rest of the ale and stood up. "I'll send someone for the bodies, and to pay you the reward. If you find anymore, take them to Dargon, or look me up in Heahun or Shireton." He shuffled a moment longer, checking his sword and belt, then headed for the door. "Constable," Sand called out after him. "What about the inn?" "What about it?" "Delor is dead," Sand answered, "and I don't know if he had children ... " "If no one claims it in three years, the land will revert to the Duke ... but so long as the taxes are paid, no one will care who's here. I certainly won't." "An inn and a reward ... " Kreb muttered as Trumfor again headed for the door, no longer paying attention to them. Ravi cast Kreb a look of disgust. "Personally, I'd like to get my hands on their leader. This seems like too quiet a road to have bandits on it." "I'd like nothing more myself," Sand agreed. "I already said I'm in," Kreb repeated. Kishore looked at all of them, his gaze passing from one face to another. "Your intentions are admirable, but you know nothing of one another, or what awaits you down the road." "Are you not joining us?" Ravi asked. "I was planing to be in Dargon soon," Kishore said. "So what's a few more days?" "A few less days I will have to do something else. I have a young girl to care for. I have no wish to drag her into some personal revenge. I killed two men last night. That's two more than I have killed in a long time. Death isn't something I want her to experience. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning." No one replied and Kishore got up and left the room, leaving the others to think about what he had said. "Well, that's his loss," Kreb was the first to get up. "It's his choice, not his loss," Sand corrected him. "I can understand what he said." "Whatever," the midget muttered and left the room. "Foul attitude," Ravi leaned back in her chair. "I can understand him, too," Sand answered. "Four foot tall is a long way to look up, especially if you're dealing with someone as tall as the Lashkirian." "You weren't here when he got called a 'lizard man'." "The Lashkirian?" "Who else?" "Then maybe it's for the better if he left," Sand agreed. "We'll be having plenty of battles if we tackle the brigands." "But he is good with a sword ... " "Jana?" Kishore called to his companion, having come out the kitchen door of the inn. Jana sat on a low wooden bench behind the building and he took a seat by the girl. "The constable left. Are you all right?" "Fine. He scared me a bit." "You did run into him." "I wanted ... thought if I could get outside ... He didn't recognize me, did he?" "Do you know him?" "No," Jana protested. "He's just a soldier, and in Dargon, at that." "Then don't worry about it," Kishore said. "I doubt anyone not looking for you will know who you are. And we'll be leaving tomorrow, anyway." "For Dargon? And then Tench?" "Dargon, and then Tench," Kishore agreed. "And then you'll have to give me more advice." "Miass," Jana answered without being prompted. "As far away from Armand as I can get." "You'll miss your family." "Are you asking me, or telling me?" "I'm telling you," Kishore answered thoughtfully. "I miss mine." "You never told me about your family," Jana said. "No. And I'd rather not now." "Doesn't seem like I'm the only one running." Jana got up, dusting herself off. "Everyone runs. We just do it for different reasons." "I'll check the horses, so we can keep running tomorrow," Jana laughed and headed for the barn. "Don't be too long!" Kishore called after her. As soon as she was out of sight in the darkness, new footsteps sounded from the house, behind Kishore, and he turned to look. Giles Kreb slowly made his way to him. "Don't fight me, Lashkirian." "I'll be leaving soon enough. Fight whoever you want, then," Kishore said, getting up. "I'll fight who I want, when I want to, but I'll also be man enough to appreciate another's skill." Kishore looked down at the midget. "If this is about last night, you're welcome." "It's about last night and all other nights to come. Your presence made a difference." "Shor!" Jana called from the barn. Kishore glanced her way and when he looked back, Kreb was making his way back to the inn. "Shor!" "Yes?" Kishore started for Jana, puzzled over the midget's words. What was he trying to say? "What did Kreb want from you?" Jana asked. "I'm not sure ... He didn't really thank me ... and he didn't ask me to stay, but I've got the feeling that's what he wanted to do ... " "Stay? You mean at the inn? Why?" "The constable hired us -- I say 'us' loosely -- to find the rest of the brigands in these parts. I thought it would be better if we moved on." "You didn't ask me?" Jana chided. "I don't think looking for highwaymen is a good thing for us to do." "You mean for me, right?" Jana asked. "More for you than me," Kishore agreed. "Can't we stay another day or two?" "Why?" "Well, you say Kreb asked you to," Jana offered, "and if he could swallow his pride, it must be pretty important." "He didn't ask me," Kishore stressed, "and even if he had, I don't think I'd do it for him." "You weren't in this much of a hurry last night." "I hadn't met Kreb then. And we weren't in any danger." "But can we stay a day or two longer?" Jana insisted. "Why?" "I stayed up last night talking with Ravi," Jana explained. "She ... she's the type of a person I always wanted to be -- free and independent. I really like her, and if she's going to stay ... " "Jana," Kishore sighed, "we're a mere fortnight from Armand. We're not safe here. Anyone can follow us. This is the only road to Dargon." "This is the most direct, but not the largest, nor the safest," Jana corrected Kishore's argument. "That's why we took this road. Please?" He nodded with reluctance. "All right. Come on, it's dark out." "Wait. Isn't the constable taking the bodies? They've been here a whole day now. They will start to smell in this heat soon." "The horses won't mind another day," Kishore answered. "Trumfor said he will send someone to get them." "Yeah, but in the barn ... " "They could be in the house," Kishore said, "or in a war. Be glad you didn't see the bodies in the war." "My brother was in the war," Jana told him. "He said the same thing." "You don't know how right he was." They returned to the inn, pausing at the kitchen doorway. "Do you want something to eat?" Kishore asked. "No. Not now. Not after seeing those bodies again." "Suit yourself." He headed into the kitchen, leaving Jana in the vestibule. Ravi was putting mugs away in the kitchen, cleaning up after the constable's visit. "So can I change your mind about leaving tomorrow?" she asked as he came in. "Are you anxious I left sooner?" Kishore hid a smile, looking through a storage bin which contained fruit. He selected a dark green apple and turned back to the red-headed woman. "I was wondering if you could be persuaded to change your mind," she answered. "We could use the help." "You say that as if you expect to find the other brigands," Kishore said, taking a bite from his apple. "I know we will," she answered, "or they'll find us first -- we cut their number by six. A dozen or five dozen, losing six will sting." "And if I say 'yes'?" "Then one sixth of two Marks is just over three Rounds." "And that'll keep me in rations for a month or two?" Kishore asked with a smile. "Depends on how much you eat. You're pretty big." Kishore thought for a moment, chewing on the apple. "You're not the first one to ask me to stay." "But were you convinced before I asked?" Ravi asked. "Almost. And I'm almost convinced now. I guess another day or two won't hurt." ======================================================================== The Long Way Home by Josh Brown 15 Ober 1014 I close my eyes and they are there again. They stand there amidst the noise and the carnage and they plead with me voicelessly. The faces and voices that have haunted my dreams. Dreams that do not end. I open my eyes and they are gone. I look around, not sure of where I am, but then I realize that I am far from the battlefield, far from those desperate eyes. Suddenly, I remember where I am. The hill before me is the same as it was when I played on it as I grew up, and home should be on the other side of it. I am home. Finally, I am home. I stop as I reach the crest of the hill, and look down at the town. For some reason, it seems smaller than it was when I left six months ago. Was it only six months? It seems a lifetime ago. I walk along the hillside, looking for some sign, something that will allow me to believe that I am really home. Suddenly, I realize which tree I am standing under. I look up at the branches, counting them as they go higher. There, it is still there. My mind drifts back to that sunny afternoon, not two years ago, when, on a dare, I climbed the tree to carve my initials, and Bronya's, surrounded by a heart. Bronya. My heart leaps at the thought of her. Now I know. I am home, and will soon be with Bronya again. I break into a run down the hill. As I draw closer to the town, I can see children playing, running around in some game. I should know these children, yet I cannot put names to these faces. The children run around, oblivious to me. They cry out to each other, calling for help, screaming out of the pain they feel. No one can go to help them. The healers run to see if they are injured, but it is not a physical hurt that causes them to cry. It is the battle that has raged around their village, the fighting that has disrupted their innocent lives. It is the sight of their parents killed, murdered by soldiers who saw them as some threat. It is the sight of their parents' bodies, lying face down in the mud. And we cannot help. Our commanders give brief orders to march on, to get back into formations. So we can move quicker down the road that leads us towards battle. Towards our destinies. A shout wakes me from my daydreaming. "It's Tomas! He's come home!" I blink, and it is not crying children before me. They are laughing and playing, knocking things over as they try to catch each other. The cry comes again. "It's Tomas! He's come home!" I am quickly surrounded by laughing and cheering friends and relatives. They are happy, rejoicing that I have returned from the wars safe and sound. Festivities are planned. Everyone insists that I come to them for dinner. Everyone wants to be happy that at least one soldier has come home safely. I am practically dragged to the tavern. Drinks are bought and are practically thrown down my throat. The taste of the hastily made tea burns my throat, but it is all there is to drink, all we can prepare on this march towards the enemy. One of the others throws me a half loaf of bread with some meat sticking out from it. I eat as quickly as possible, wanting to finish before we are ordered back into this long march. A hand lands on my shoulder. I jump, thinking the order to resume marching has been given. "Tomas! Does Bronya know you're home yet?" It is Bronya's father. He shoves another mug in my hand, and hugs me. All, of course, want to hear stories, what I've seen, where I've been. But how can I tell them of the things I've seen? What the faces of ten year old girls look like after they have been raped by a dozen men. What it smells like when people are herded like cattle into huts, which are then set alight. What the air over a battlefield tastes like when so many men lie dead or dying in the blood soaked mud. It is some time before I can get myself away from the crowd. I hurry down the streets, ignoring the calls of those who are seeing me for the first time. When I reach the house, I stop and knock on the door. Bronya opens it. She cries out, and hugs me. I hug her back, almost choking her with my embrace. I put her back down, and follow her into the house. The house has been looted thoroughly by those who have preceded me. The furniture is smashed to bits, and anything of real worth has been taken. Something glittering catches my eye from the bottom of the pile. It turns out to be a child's bauble, forgotten in the inhabitants' haste to leave, to get out of town before the soldiers arrived. Before I can look further, the captain calls. We must move on before nightfall. We return to the trail. We move silently, each of us deep in our own thoughts of the remains of the farm we have just passed. Thoughts of what if it was our home. I look behind me, to see the long line of weary soldiers marching on, and the supply wagons behind us. I stumble over some stone in the road. Bronya helps me back up. She apologizes for the mess in the house. She was not expecting me, of course, and she has been keeping up her work as a seamstress in my absence. She pushes the basket of cloth from out of the way. I am speechless. Weeks of dreaming of this moment have not prepared me for it. Bronya rushes around, putting food on the table. The first taste of her stew, seasoned as she knows I like it, erases the memories of trail food from my mind. While I eat, Bronya has my pack open, and busies herself with unpacking it. She glares at me when she sees the state of my clothes. I explain that we didn't have a laundress with us, but she just sighs. She smiles when she finds the sack of money. I must admit, it is enough to see us through at least a year. The captain was kind with us when the company was discharged, and I had tried to save as much as possible on the trip home. Suddenly, she leaps at me, knocking the spoon from my hand as she begins to cover my face with kisses. I can do little but smile smugly. She must have found the bolt of silk I bought for her on the road. I have barely finished my meal when a hammering comes at the door. "Tomas! Come out and join us! Let us get a look at you!" It is my younger brothers. I look sheepishly at Bronya, and she waves me out the door. "Go and be the great war hero to them. As if I could stop you." I smile, give her a quick kiss and join my brothers outside. I know that it has not been that long, yet they look older to me. Seff's chin is covered with fine down and Markus seems to have grown a head taller since I have seen them last. They want to hear stories of what I have done as well. "How many men did you kill?" "How much did you bring back?" "What have you seen?" "What battles did you participate in?" I hold my hands up to try and stop the questions. "Let me answer one at a time. I can't answer them all at once. 'Specially if I can't hear them all." They grin, and stop to let me speak. Suddenly, something falls on me from behind. I whip around, my sword ready. Before me stands a soldier, the markings on his dusty armor showing him to be an enemy. He charges, and I parry his thrust. My mouth is suddenly too dry to call for any of my companions to help me, and so I must fight on alone. He is better than I am, and I must give up ground, moving farther and farther into the back of the ruined building, trying hard not to trip over any of the rubble that covers the floor. My first judgment is wrong. He is not a little better than I, he is a lot better. I find myself swinging wildly, dodging his blade as best I can. Then, the worst happens -- I trip over something on the floor. I look up at his smirk, as he is about to bring his sword down through me, when a strange look comes over his face. He suddenly groans, and falls at my feet. I look up and see Samir wiping the blood off his sword. He then reaches down and helps me to my feet. "I guess you owe me one, right?" he asks. I grin, but before I can answer, we come under a hail of arrows from somewhere up ahead. We duck and take cover, yelling out for the rest of the company to come and help us find where these archers are hidden. "Tomas, is something wrong? Why the yelling? It's just Barak." I blink and look at my youngest brother, who now lies on his back from where I threw him. I apologize, and help him to his feet. He laughs and says he deserved it, jumping on me like that. I sit with them for a while, telling them of battles and of the places I've been. I try to keep the gory details from them. They listen to me with their mouths hanging open, memorizing my every words. Suddenly, Bronya sticks her head out of the window. "Time to go home, boys. Tomas will be here in the morning, and I'm sure that you have to be up early for chores. And Tomas must be tired. Let's let him get some sleep." The boys wish us goodnight, and disappear into the darkness. Inside, Bronya takes me by the hand and leads us to our bedroom. She dances away from my embrace, insisting I wash off the travel dust before she'll allow me near her. When I return to the bedroom, she is already undressed and under the covers. I smile, remembering her modesty, and remove my smallclothes in order to join her under the thick goose down quilt. She reaches to me, the tatters of her shift revealing her body beneath. The burns on her arms must pain her greatly, yet she does not cry out. I yell for the healers to help her, but before they can come, the crash of battle reaches my ears, and a shout to abandon what we're doing, and to join in the fight. I leave the woman where she lies, and rush to find my companions. "Tomas, what's wrong?" Bronya's question hangs in the air between us. I look down, suddenly realizing I am no longer in bed. I rejoin her on the bed. She reaches for me again, yet I do not feel I can grow warm again in her arms. And the next day is worse. The images of the places I've been, the horrors I've seen seem to blend in with the faces of those I live amongst. I see the wounded as I walk through the marketplace. I hear the cries of the children as I sit in the tavern with my neighbors. And I see and hear the wounded women as I lay next to Bronya. I feel that I have somehow let her down, that it is somehow my own fault that I cannot bring myself to touch her. She does not understand. And I cannot find the words to explain it to her. And so I live my life haunted by the demons of a war that is over. I hope and pray that they'll leave me and I cling to the thought that tomorrow will bring release, that I'll be able to go back to the life I'd had before. I only hope that I do not wait in vain. ======================================================================== Shattered Love Part II by Mark A. Murray Dargon, Sy 1015 Raphael, Kyle, and Jandis travelled through Dargon following a small, magical wooden box. Jandis held the box and led the group where the small stone inside it pointed. Raphael and Kyle were behind Jandis, talking about their lives and where they had traveled. They followed the magical box as it led them closer to Loth. Jandis and Kyle were here because they were commanded to stop Loth. Raphael's reasons were both simple and involved. He simply wanted to kill Loth. He wanted Loth dead because there was a good chance it would cure Megan. He also wanted to kill Loth because Loth had killed his best friend. And so the three of them walked through the town of Dargon using magic to lead them to a mage. After following the box for less than a bell, Raphael, Jandis, and Kyle found themselves at the docks. Raphael caught sight of a figure stepping into an alley at the end of Commercial Street. "Kell?" Raphael whispered. "What?" Jandis asked. "I thought I saw Kell," Raphael said not knowing whether to hope his friend was alive or not. "There is magic ahead of us," Jandis told them. "Ready yourselves. I think we're close." Raphael gripped his cane tighter as they strode forward. As they reached the alley, they saw someone leaning against an open doorway, hunched over somewhat, as if sick. "Kell?" Raphael asked as he walked down the alley. Raphael did not see any other people around, nor could he see inside the house that the person was leaning against. "Kell?" Raphael asked again as he neared. "I'm afraid not," came a voice from somewhere in the house behind the figure. "Or rather not as you knew him." Raphael knew that voice -- Loth. As Raphael got closer, he saw that it was really Kell -- and he was dead. His flesh was dried and leathery and had tightened to show the outline of his bones. "Damn you Loth!" Raphael shouted. "You think I wanted this?" Loth asked. "Your pitiful friend here was very useful to me before he ended his life." Loth stepped next to Kell's body and motioned slightly with his staff. Kell's body fell forward into the dirt a few paces in front of Raphael. Loth stepped outside. "You never did realize the power that was in him, did you? He never did, either. Had he known, he could have destroyed me easily. Easily! All that time that he hated me and wished to be free of me, and he never knew that he could have enslaved *me*! And that power was to be *mine* to control! *Mine*!" Loth raged. His tall frame shook and small bolts of energy arced from the staff to him. Jandis and Kyle were to Raphael's right and they watched as Loth's rage faded suddenly. "Do you remember the cabin?" Loth asked Raphael calmly. "The one where you met Kell in disguise? Did you know that Kell held the owners captive until you had gone. He was going to free them once you were well away from there, but I showed up sooner than he expected. It was a joy to watch as I made him kill them." Loth smiled and motioned someone out of the cabin. Three men stepped out of the cabin and stood to Loth's right. They were large men dressed in dirty, ragged clothes, and each one held a sword in his hand. "My bodyguards," Loth said and then laughed. "Dock worker bodyguards," he laughed as if it were a joke known only to him. His eyes closed to slits as he turned his attention to Jandis. "And who are your bodyguards?" "Get ... out of ... my ... mind," Jandis said through clenched teeth. "My, my, what a strong mind," Loth said. "Let's try this, then." He raised his staff and pointed it at Jandis, but nothing happened. Nothing that could be seen. "Get out!" Kyle yelled suddenly. "The Elders!" Loth hissed. "Stay out of my mind!" Kyle yelled. "A bit touchy, aren't you?" Loth said to Kyle. "Did you really think that I was going to try to enter his mind again, when yours was unprepared? Fool!" Loth turned to look at the three men beside him. His eyes narrowed and arcs of magical energy snapped between him and his staff. It started at the bottom and moved up the staff quickly to disappear at the top. Making a circular motion with the top of the staff, Loth created a small dark cloud. He sent the small cloud towards the men. Raphael watched as the cloud slowly drifted to the men and settled on them. As it magically soaked into them, Raphael recognized the magic. The three men now had the taint that he had learned to dread. It had been Loth behind all the attempts on his life. "I promised them a Sterling each, but now I don't have to pay them at all," Loth explained. "They'll do whatever I command. "Kill him!" Loth ordered suddenly as he pointed to Raphael. Raphael looked over to Jandis and Kyle with a questioning look of 'just me?'. Before anyone could reply, Loth snapped his staff toward Jandis. A streak of energy flew from the staff to strike Jandis in the chest and hurtle him backwards. Raphael couldn't look back because the three men started to advance. His own blade was drawn and he stood relaxed. He hoped they were just dock workers and not experienced fighters. But when the three fanned out to surround him, that hope died somewhat. His only, and possibly last, chance was that they wouldn't work well together. He stepped to the left and moved to attack. As the man blocked his thrust, Raphael used it to set his distance. The timing would have to be perfect. Using a few small thrusts and parries, Raphael watched as the middle dock worker closed in. He wasn't worried about the far right man, yet. Just a little closer. Raphael feinted a thrust and left an opening in his defenses. Just as the left man lunged in, the middle one also attacked. Raphael moved quickly, just ahead of both blades, and stepped in between them. As he kept moving past both, he sliced the left dock worker's side. Turning around quickly, he readied for an attack, but none came. The injured man was on his knees and the other one was just turning around. The third dock worker was behind the other two now. Raphael backed away slightly so he could watch Loth out of the corner of his eye. Loth was occupied with Kyle, and Raphael hoped Kyle could deal with him. A movement behind the three men caught Raphael's eye. Jandis stood up and took a charred medallion from his chest and threw it down. As Jandis looked up, he pointed at the closest man. A ring of light floated from his hand and encircled the dock worker's waist. When the ring started to constrict, the man looked down, dropped his sword, and grabbed the circle of light. It was a useless effort as the circle tightened and slowly cut him in half. He never screamed. Raphael used the opportunity to attack the remaining uninjured man. Without the other two, the fight ended quickly. Grabbing at his punctured throat, the dock worker fell silently on the ground. Raphael turned and made sure the injured dock worker wouldn't rise again. Finished with his task, Raphael started toward Loth. He saw Kyle slumped on the ground with his hands clutching his stomach. Blood was running from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Raphael grimaced as he remembered Kell suffering from the same symptoms. Sparks of light brought him back to the present. Loth was grinning as he forced Jandis back with hits from his staff. With every touch from Loth's staff, there would be a spark of light and the area touched was blackened and burned. Jandis was trying everything he knew to stay alive. He would send flashes of light from his fingers to strike Loth, only to be turned away or dispelled. "It's me you want," Raphael said as he moved toward Loth. Loth hit Jandis one last time before turning to face Raphael. Raphael watched Jandis fell to the ground behind Loth. Most of his clothing was burned away and his skin was blackened. Loth extended his hand and a glass sphere appeared. "Your precious Megan's soul is in this globe," Loth said as he suspended the globe in mid-air. "If you look deep enough, you can see her. Such a pretty thing. If the globe shatters, she dies. If I die, the magic holding the globe will end. I'm sure you can figure out what happens then. If you can touch the globe to her physical body, you'll free her from the spell. "I *was* going to release her. Even though it's only a slight drain of my energies to keep her this way, it is a drain none-the-less. But when you killed Kell, I decided to keep her. As a reminder of Kell's weakness and my revenge on you. Besides, she looks so lovely in this globe," he said smiling. "I am going to kill you," Raphael said as he moved toward Loth. He had seen what Loth's staff could do and he didn't want a repeat performance. He had one advantage that Jandis didn't have -- he had a sword to put between that staff and his body. Loth smiled as the two closed the distance. Loth swung his staff at Raphael but it was more to draw him out than to strike him. Raphael blocked his attempts and struck back carefully. It was a game to measure each other's skill. As time passed, the game got more intense. Raphael found that Loth's skill with the staff was good -- but not great. He noticed a few small openings and wondered if they were feints. He took advantage of Loth's next opening and drew first blood. "I see that you outmatch me in the physical skills," Loth said as the cut on his arm started to bleed. "Let's add magical skills to our fighting, shall we?" he asked as he sent a bolt from his finger into Raphael's chest. Raphael staggered back as the magical bolt burned his chest. It wasn't a bad wound, but it was enough to let him know he was in trouble. He doubled his attack and pushed Loth's defenses hard enough to keep him from sending another spell, but he knew he couldn't keep the pace up for long. He was scoring small hits on Loth, though, and it was then that Loth's defenses opened wide. Raphael thrust his sword and realized too late that it had been a feint. Loth, smiling, brushed the sword aside. He thought he had Raphael's attack parried enough to counter attack, but when the pain lanced through his body, he knew he had made a mistake. Glancing down, he saw that the sword pierced him in his side, low and to the outside. Loth concentrated and energy crackled from his staff to his wound. As the energy flew from Loth's staff, Raphael pushed the sword in deeper. Loth drew in a sharp breath, and Raphael saw the staff begin to move. With his sword in Loth's side, there was no protection against the staff. There was a jolt of energy and Raphael was thrown to the ground. Pain lanced through him as he fell. The smell of burnt hair and flesh assaulted his senses. He looked up to watch the killing blow, but it wasn't there. Loth, with the sword still in him, had turned toward Jandis. "You *dare* to test my will! I am the master!" Loth screamed at Jandis. Raphael saw his only chance, and while Loth was mentally occupied with Jandis, he moved. If he could grab the sword and cut across Loth's midsection, it should be enough to kill him. As he moved to grab the sword, Loth turned toward him. He *knew* he couldn't avoid the staff, but maybe there would be time enough to complete his task. That one final cut was all that occupied his mind. His vision narrowed slowly to focus on the sword handle. As he got closer, he watched his hands come into view to line up with the hilt. Before he got there, the staff shattered his vision as it came straight toward him. His body didn't stop, though; it was going to try to complete its course of action no matter how hard his brain screamed warnings. He saw the staff get closer and thought for sure that he would fail when a streak of brilliant blue light whizzed past his eyes to strike the staff. His guess was that Jandis must have knocked the staff aside to clear the way. He didn't care as his hands grasped the sword. He cut from where the sword was to Loth's upper abdomen, where it caught in a rib. Loth clutched his stomach and leaned on his staff. He looked incredulously at Raphael. Slowly, he sank to his knees and smiled. Looking at Loth's expression, Raphael knew what was going to happen, and he dashed to the globe. It had just started to fall when Raphael caught it. He grimaced as he cradled the globe, for he knew what was coming. It was a decision he had made instantly; he had left his back open to Loth to save Megan -- his life for hers. When the pain exploded in his back, his thoughts went to the globe. He cradled it and turned so that his back would hit the ground. Raphael landed half on his side and half on his back, and he looked down into his hands. The globe had not cracked or broken. He started to smile when he noticed that he was losing control and feeling in his body. He fought to turn from his side to his back so that the globe would not fall from his hands, but his body didn't move. Time slowed as he watched the globe fall from his hands. As it fell, he saw Megan inside it pounding on the glass. She was screaming something at him but he couldn't hear her. "She always did have a fiery soul," he thought and that was part of what he loved about her. He watched as she stopped pounding and became still. She lifted a hand and placed it against the glass wall as if to steady herself, but her eyes never left his. "I will always love you," he whispered to her. He knew she heard as he watched her tears run down her face. He saw her lips move and he knew what she said without having to hear it. It wasn't a long fall, but it was enough. The globe shattered when it hit the ground. Raphael heard Megan cry as the pieces settled and blackness overtook him. "I lied," Loth said. "Breaking the globe sets her free. But you'll never see her, and much to my dismay, I don't think I will either," Loth said as he watched his blood make a large pool around him. "Your sword has done a rather good job of cutting me open." His staff fell from his lifeless hand and he fell quietly to the ground as he died. The figure on the bed jerked and drew in great gasps of breath -- life giving breath. She spasmed and the wolf pup that lay beside her jumped away. Megan sat up and Anam looked at her in confusion. "Raphael," she whispered as tears fell from her green eyes. "You can't be dead," she thought. "I'd know if you were dead," she told herself. "I saw ships behind you!" She said jumping out of the bed and running to the door. Opening it, she turned and ran down the stairs yelling for the only person she knew. "May! May, where are you?" she yelled. "Who's yelling for me now?" came a voice from the kitchen. "May? Oh, May, he's alive!" she yelled. "I know it!" "Who's alive? And who's yelling and causing such a commotion?" May asked as she stepped out of the kitchen. She caught sight of Megan standing at the foot of the stairs and took a step back. "Sweet Stevene save me!" May yelped. "You're alive? Oh, Father of us all, you'd best be alive. I can't stand no spirit in my place!" "I'm alive, May! And so is Raphael. He's somewhere where the ships are. Where would that be?" she asked. "I have to get to him. He's hurt, May." "How are you ... That don't matter right now, I guess. You're here and he isn't. He didn't look too good when he left. I've been worried about him ever since. Ships, huh. Has to be the docks. Well, don't just stand there, come on!" May said as she headed for the door. Megan noticed that it was near dark as she stepped outside. She followed May through the streets of Dargon. When May stopped, Megan saw the dock area. It was huge. There were ships all along the docks. "Where are you?" she wondered. "Here's the docks. Where is he?" May asked. "I don't know," Megan answered. "What do you mean you don't know? You said he was where the ships were. That's here, so where is he?" "I don't know. I didn't know the docks would be this big. He wasn't too close to the ships, though." "Well, I'd guess that he'd be on the south side of Commercial street then. Let's go. We'll search each building if we have to," May said. "No, he wasn't in a building. He was outside one." "Can't be that hard to find, then, can he? Just how do you know he was here and near a building?" "I'll explain that later, May. He's got to be here! And he's hurt, May. He would have given his life for mine," Megan said as she started to cry. "That way," May said and pointed toward the end of Commercial street. "If he isn't there, it's still a good place to start." They walked along Commercial Street looking around and between buildings. It was near the end when they saw a body lying on the ground, half in the shadows, between buildings. Megan ran to it, but it wasn't Raphael. As she stood next to the body, she looked deeper into the shadows. There were other bodies on the ground, and one of them was Raphael. She ran to where he lay, knelt down, and cradled his head in her lap. "Don't you be dead, Raphael Etrigan!" She said as she shook him. "You didn't drag me all this way to die on me! Wake up!" she yelled at him and shook him harder. A groan escaped his lips, and she clutched him tighter. "Raphael?" she asked. "Megan?" he whispered. His eyes opened and he focused them on her. "Am I dead?" He asked. "No," she told him. "Nearly, though." "You're free?" he asked. "All those years, and the first thing you say to me is 'you're free'?" Megan said teasing. "I ought to leave you here in the dirt." "I've missed you," he said smiling. "And I, you," she told him. "There's another one over here that's alive," May said. "An older man. Is this Loth?" she asked. "I can't get up," Raphael said. "Loth should have a sword stuck in him, though." "I'll see who it is," Megan said as she got up. "And if it's Loth, I'll make sure that he doesn't stay alive for much longer." As Megan turned, she noticed Loth on the ground with the sword still stuck in him. She went over to him and pulled the sword out of his body. "You might not want to watch this, May," she warned. Taking the sword, she hacked at Loth's neck. "I'd like to see you heal this!" she spat at Loth while she cut his head off. "Black hearted, vile ..." she muttered as she stuck the sword back in Loth's body. "I take it Loth is dead?" Raphael asked. "The living one must be Jandis. He helped me kill Loth. If not for his magic, I wouldn't have been able to do it. How bad is he?" "I don't know," May replied. "Wait here and I'll get a wagon. And the town guard. They'll need to know about this." "I don't think I'm going anywhere, May," Raphael told her. "I can't move my legs." "What?" Megan asked. She twisted the sword once more before she went back to Raphael. "I think Loth's final blow did it. I can't feel or move my legs." "We'll get you to a healer," Megan said. "I'm just glad you're alive. I didn't want to lose you now that I'm free." "Come closer," Raphael said. Megan sat next to him. "Let me see your eyes," he said. She bent down, and he looked into her eyes. Even in the fading light, he saw her green eyes. He smiled and lifted his hand to touch her hair. "I love you." "I love you," she said as she kissed him. ========================================================================