King Jerrold had been taken to his chambers with the help of two guards. Captain Russell followed and stood by the doorframe, watching as the old man was helped into his bed. This was purely for appearance’ sake of course, there was no need to have the royal family be suspicious before due time. It was simply expected for the captain of the guard to be concerned for his master’s health. The king coughed violently as Queen Daria blew out the candles in the room and finally closed the door behind her when she left. Princess Ella had left to summon the healer and Charmont stood by Russell, silent. Queen Daria wrung her hands together and Charmont placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Daria’s worry grew even more apparent on her face,

“I’ve never seen him get this sick. Never.”

Charmont smiled to soothe her, “He’s most likely picked it up from one of the servants, I heard his stable boy has been coughing lately as well.”

“The boy was released yesterday from the infirmary,” informed Russell, “he was perfectly fine.” It took all of his willpower not to smile at the look on Daria’s face. She looked as though someone had just slapped her in the face.

Princess Ella then returned with the Royal Healer, a wrinkly old man named Sien who always wore a serious expression, even when he wasn’t working. Jerrold could be heard coughing fiercely behind the closed doors. Without a word the healer walked into the room and shut the door behind him, leaving Russell, Charmont, Princess Ella, and Queen Daria behind in the dimly lit hallway. The princess shook her head,

“Sien told me he’s never heard of this before. The fever and coughing was one thing, but the King is also losing his eyesight. There’s just no explanation.” Charmont took her hand,

“He’ll be fine. He’s strong; it’s probably a new sickness. Sien is well trained and will find a cure of some sort in no time.”

Russell bowed, “If I may request your dismissal, I shall return to the royal courier to inform all available knights of your plans to patrol the towns for Prince Namian.”

Charmont nodded, “Very well, you are dismissed.”

Russell left and headed for the royal couriers chambers, which wasn’t far from the King’s chambers. This he dreaded since the royal courier was an elf, but he needed to get this done quickly. 

The courier nodded once the message was delivered and quickly set to work writing several copies of Prince Charmont’s orders.

Russell turned to leave but the elf grabbed his arm quickly to stop him. Resisting the urge to shove the filthy creature away from him, Russell swung around and snapped, “What?!”

“Before I forget,” said the elf, slightly frightened, “there came a letter for you.” He shakily handed the letter to the captain and set back to work. Russell left the room and stood by a light in the hall to read the letter. He smiled at its contents.

Folding it and placing it inside his shirt, Russell headed towards the stables to get his horse. It would be a long ride back to the secret fort, but it would be well worth it.

~*~*~

Namian and Téa stopped in a little town called Bölate to stop at the local healer’s. The healer applied a type of medicine to Namian’s ear that stung but instantly soothed the searing pain.

“What’dja do son? Get in a fight?” The healer asked.

“Something like that,” replied Namian. Téa stood behind the healer, apparently slipping things from the shelves into the burlap bag. He kept silent and paid the healer, thanking him. Outside Téa crossed the road to an inn that was labeled “The Snowy Isle”. She paid the innkeeper as soon as she stepped in the door and took the key up to their room. He followed, wondering why she hadn’t gotten him a room as well. He walked in to find her setting her things on the floor.

“I don’t even want to know what you’ve stolen this time.”

She shrugged, “Just some medical supplies and some medicine in case we need it. How’s the ear?”

“Fine,” he replied, then remembered to ask, “Why didn’t you get me a room?”

She lay a blanket on the floor (his bed), “There are people looking for me in case you’ve forgotten, but they’re not looking for two people together. Just playing it safe.”

“Sure,” replied Namian airily. Téa didn’t bother to change into any sort of nightgown, just simply flopped on the bed and fell almost instantly asleep. He sighed and lay on the blanket, though sleep did not come for quite some time.

~*~*~

With his horse going at a full gallop, Sir Russell made it to Westova by the end of that very night. Though the trees in the forest looked very much the same on that moonless night, Russell easily spotted the fort by the lights that were coming out of the branches. Victor, that idiot, had forgotten to blow out the candles after twilight. Though Russell knew that he should have the stupid boy flogged for being so careless, the contents of the letter had brightened up his mood so much that he was willing to overlook it.

Waving his hand three times and knocking twice on the bark, the door in the tree immediately opened and he ascended the stairs, surprising the young Victor into standing rapidly and sending his chair flying back.

“Captain! I…I was just…”

Russell held up a hand to silence him, “Inform our huntsman that we know where they are going.”

~*~*~

It took nearly a week to get out of Kyrria, and this only because Bast was close to where Kyrria and Westova bordered. They spent their time walking in silence, spending their nights at inns. The trip would have gone faster if Téa had been able to steal some horses, but Hayden had stopped her before she could. Do-gooder, she had thought to herself as she trudged unhappily away from the stables where their potential transportation stayed.

On the eighth day of their trip they passed into another Westovian cornfield. Téa was quite frankly sick of all the fields; the stalks were so tall they towered over the both of them. Only the deep blue sky and the road ahead of them were visible. She removed the bandage from her arm where the ogre had cut and found that it was nearly healed, and the cuts on her legs from the night she ran into Hayden were completely gone as well. She placed the somewhat red stained patches of cloth back into the sack and reached in for an apple. She tossed one to Hayden, who caught it with one hand.

“How much farther?” He asked. Like her he was clearly sick of the long walk.

She calculated how many days they had been on the road, “We’ve been traveling for about ten days, just four more days and we’ll be at my parents home.”

“Okay,” he sighed, disappointed. She didn’t blame him; they had been on the road for so long she thought she would die of boredom. 

Then a thought occurred to her, what was she going to do with him once they arrived? She had only told him that she was being hunted because of a dead man, not the…other reason. She had to think of a way to get rid of him once they arrived, if he ever found out about what she was really carrying he would most likely consider it his noble duty to inform the king; and then Hannah would be dead for sure. Her train of thought was so deep that she didn’t even notice as the road led from the fields into a lush, dark forest. Though it was about three in the afternoon, in the forest it may as well have been dusk with the lack of light. A voice echoed in her mind, it was her sister’s,

Arleta? Where are you going?

Away.

What! Why?

I can’t live here anymore

Then I’m coming with you

No, stay here with mother and father. You belong here, I don’t

Of course you do! We’ve lived in the Tribe all our lives, how can you say that all of a sudden you don’t belong?

I’ve never belonged. Not here, not anywhere. Don’t you get it?

The memory moved forward in time now. A few months had gone by since she left the tribe, and Hannah had come along. She seemed to be the only one who ignored her threats.

Téa’s face reddened with anger, knowing she could have forced Hannah to stay. The two sisters stayed together in the woods for about two months near the town of Bast, but this was before she had met D’arvan, though she had taken to stealing to provide for the both of them. It was because of this whole profession that Hannah was taken in the first place.

She remembered that day clearly. She had taken to waiting tables at one of the local bars, and it seemed that nearly every customer that entered that tavern left with one less possession, usually a coin or sometimes entire purse. Téa used to glow at her light-handed craftiness. Not anymore.

Her boss had made her work late as usual, but she didn’t mind. Hannah didn’t usually wait up for her and just went straight to sleep in their homemade tent, knowing full well that her sister could take care of herself.

It was around eleven at night when the three men entered, all very dark, tall, and muscular. Even the youngest one of them nerved her because of the way he rested his hand on the haft of his sword. The leader was even more frightening, tall with almost black long hair that was tied behind with a leather strip. They all moved to a table in the back and quickly sat down.

Téa glanced around for the other barmaid who worked with her, but the girl was nowhere in sight. Great, now she had to wait on the bunch of ogres. Drawing herself up to her full height, she balanced her tray on one hand and walked over to the three gentlemen. They seemed to be busy discussing something.

“What can I get you gentlemen?”

They ignored her.

“Ale, gentlemen?” She said a bit louder.

Her queries didn’t seem to hear her.

“AHEM!”

The leader looked up and barked, “What?!”

“Can I get you something, or did you come in here just to make idle chit-chat?” Though they did intimidate her, she was quite pleased at how well she hid it.

He glared, eyes burning holes into hers, “And you are?”

“Your friendly neighborhood Bar Maid, and if you don’t order something you’re leaving.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really.”

“And who’s going to make us leave?”

“The innkeeper’s four sons, all of whom are in their thirties.” The innkeeper was never married and had no sons, but she didn’t want to just say herself. How threatening was that?

He seemed amused, eyeing her red hair, “Alright, you red-headed wench, we’ll have some Ale. Be quick about it.”  His two other cronies snickered.

She decided to “accidentally” trip and spill the ale on him, but determined something better when she noticed something that looked like folded papers on the inside of his vest. Hurrying away from the table to fetch the ale, she returned and set three mugs in front of them, deciding to wait until they got up to leave to make the steal.

It didn’t take long; after they had finished their talking they headed for the door. She grabbed an empty mug and pretended to be walking over to a table on the other side of them, timing her walking just right so their paths would cross.

She collided into the leader’s shoulder, hard, her thin hand slipping into his vest and easily taking out the papers, sneaking them into the apron of her pocket before anyone could notice.

The leader shoved her so hard that she nearly fell backwards.

“Watch where you’re going!”

She apologetically bowed her head slightly, “My fault, milord. A thousand pardons.”

He ignored her and left, his comrades following behind. Breathing a sigh of relief she walked into the kitchen to read what she had stolen.

They were documents all right. One page contained notes of what appeared to be times for guard changes. Guard changes for what?  She thought to herself as she looked at the second paper. Well, it wasn’t really a paper; it was a blue print…to King Jerrold’s castle! She gasped lightly and quickly checked the door to the inn to make sure they hadn’t returned.

Nothing.

She looked back to the blueprint. It showed every floor, including the servants’ quarters. And there were white dotted lines that seemed to display other exits from some of the rooms.

Secret passages! They ran the lengths of the castle. There were passages to get from the outside gates all the way to the chambers where the royal family slept. If this was for what it was obviously for, she had to get these papers to Frell, and fast.

Suddenly she heard voices yelling outside,

“WHERE ARE THE DOCUMENTS!”

“They’re in your vest, milord.”

“No they’re not you idiot!”

“The bar maid! She must have taken the documents!”

“After her!”

Téa bolted towards the back door, just as the front flew open.

“Téa?”

Hannah?

“Téa, are you there?”

I’m coming Hannah!

“Téa!”

Téa jerked her head around at Hayden who had shaken her shoulder.

“What?”

“Have you not been conscious the last five minutes?”

She rolled her eyes, “Why do you say that?”

He said nothing, only turned her head to look at about twenty men in front of them. They were gypsies.

Her eyes grew slightly wider, “Oh.”

“Milord and lady,” one of the gypsies bowed, “it’s not a good idea to be walkin’ ‘round in the forest by yerselves. Don’t you know there are dangerous men about?” There was no missing the sarcasm.

“We’re just passing through,” Namian spoke calmly.

“Not wit’ that bag ye’re not,” the gypsy grinned. He pointed to the burlap sack in Téa’s hand. The other men snickered.

“I’m afraid the bag is ours,” Téa told them, holding it behind her back. The gypsy that had spoken to them walked towards her, showing off his particularly shiny knife in his right hand. He held out his left palm,

“Milady, there’s no need for things to get ugly. Hand it over.”

“Just let us be,” Namian’s attempt was met with laughter. Téa gave him a look as she handed the bag over.

“Shut up, will you?” She hissed through her teeth. He shut his mouth, knowing that she was referring to the fact that they were outnumbered.

The gypsy dumped the contents of the bag on to the ground. The medical supplies, food, map and dress tumbled out easily; but he shook the bag to make sure there was no more. Picking up the dress, he turned back and called his to one of his mates,

“Hey Bowen! Tania needs another dress, don’t she?”

            A handsome teenager with wavy blonde hair answered, “You kidding? She hates fancy dresses!” He looked younger than they were.

The leader of the group handed the dress back to Téa,

“Yer lucky day, milady,” he smirked as he added, “it matches yer hair better anyway.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she answered. He nodded in a genuine “you’re welcome” then returned to looking through the bag’s contents. Namian sighed inwardly; she always fit in well with these kinds of people.

 Taking the rope and medical supplies, the leader scooped the food and map back into the bag. He handed it to Namian this time. 

“My name is Kyros,” the gypsy bowed again, “and ye have my invitation to stay with us a few days.” He smiled genuinely. Namian bowed also,

“You are very generous, but I’m afraid we have to be somewhere--.”

“Refusing a gypsy’s invitation can be hazardous to yer health ye know.”

Téa huffed and looked at Namian, “You know, I am getting mighty sick of this trend.”

Kyros cupped one of his ears with his right hand, “I’m sorry?”

“I said we’d loved to.”

He grinned wider, “How lovely, follow us.”

~*~*~

The gypsies’ camp was just as it would be expected; several wagons formed a circle around a fire pit, all with miscellaneous junk. What amused Téa was the fact that the gypsies had everything organized. One wagon was devoted solely to pots, pans and cutlery while another wagon held only clothes and rugs. All the people looked busy with something (there must have been fifty of them). Small children placed seeds carefully in a small garden next to one of the wagons. Teenaged girls were busy repairing clothes while others skinned the hides off of animals they had caught. But not all of them were humans. A good ten of them were elves, and there were two or three gnomes there as well. Everyone seemed preoccupied with something, but that came to a complete stop when they entered the camp.

An elfian woman of middle age walked up to Kyros,

“What happened to huntin’ for actual food?”

Kyros explained, “Seems these two interrupted our hunting party, but we figured we couldn’t show up with nothin’. So here is our catch of the day.” The last sentence was directed to the entire camp, and some laughed.

The elf smiled and shook her head, and then looked at the two of them, “I’m Nida, Kyros’ wife. What are your names?”

Téa was a bit taken back by how friendly this woman was, but she smiled also, “I’m Téa.”

“And I’m N—Hayden,” Hayden seemed to stutter. Téa looked at him, but he just shrugged and smirked.

Nida dipped her head in greeting, “Welcome. We rarely have guests so you must excuse some of us if we’re… a bit shy.”

Everyone seemed fascinated by Téa’s unnatural red hair, but she didn’t mind as she was used to it. Nida led them away from the hunting party to a small wagon, chatting the whole way,

“You must pardon my husband, he gets carried away with strangers. Finds it funny to scare them to death. Didn’t work on you apparently.”

“Why would he want to scare us?” Hayden asked.

“In case you didn’t notice, gypsies aren’t exactly thought of as the friendliest people in the world. There are lots of rumors about gypsies bein’ mean, bloodthirsty folk that would so much as kill you as look at you. I tell Kyros that he’s only fuelin’ those tall tales, but he does what he likes.”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Téa said, “but do we really have to stay with you?”

“I’m afraid you must,” Nida explained, “When people spot gypsies they always go to the powers that be and tell ‘em where we are. Then we have to move again, and it’s so hard to find a good spot to stay for a few months. So when we find strangers in the woods Kyros has them stay with us for a few days to find out whether they’re trustworthy enough to let go.”

“And if we don’t prove to be trustworthy?” Hayden asked.

“We usually tie the unreliable ones to trees while we move the camp to a different place. The authorities usually find them in a day or two and by then we’re long gone.”

“Sounds fun,” replied Téa sarcastically.

The wagon that they had been brought to was apparently a “guest room”. Inside were two beds just long enough for an average sized person. Téa would probably be able to fit but Hayden would have some difficulty. Nida left them to get situated and the two climbed into the wagon. Hayden sat on the small bed,

“What are we going to do?”

“Stay here of course,” said Téa; hiding the burlap sack under her bed, “I don’t think we have a choice. My parents will just have to wait.” She turned her head suddenly to look at some children spying on them from the back of the wagon. They all giggled and ran off. Hayden chuckled,

“You’re going to be quite popular around here.”

She fingered her hair, “You think?”

~*~*~

The Huntsman entered Bast late in the afternoon. All the people around him were buzzing about some kind of robbery that happened a week before. It wasn’t of importance of him until somebody mentioned one of the thieves was the Red Headed Bandit. He walked closer to the woman who had said it and pretended to clean his nails with his knife as he eavesdropped.

“From what I heard, she robbed the Emerald Inn first but for some reason she….”

The Huntsman didn’t need to hear anymore, he changed his course and headed for the Emerald Inn. It wasn’t far since it was in the middle of town. It seemed packed but he made his way to the bar and sat on a stool.

“What can I get you, milord?” The innkeeper asked.

The Huntsman took out a wanted poster that he had swiped from a guard in Frell and pointed at the woman in the picture.

The Innkeeper’s eyes widened slightly, “Yeah! She was here, stole my wife’s necklace. But I found it on my dog’s collar later on. If you ask me I think she never wanted it in the first place—“

The Huntsman left immediately. Now that he had confirmation that he was on the right path, there was no need to hang around the dumpy little town.

~*~*~

The first day with the gypsies passed quickly, Namian and Téa had spent it helping out with any work and talked about various things with them. The next morning Namian was invited to go on a hunting party with the men while Téa stayed behind to help with the work around the camp. Though they were skeptical of him at first, they were soon chatting away with him like old friends once he made the first kill with his bow.

“From where do ye hail, Master Hayden?” Kyros asked as they walked along the dirt path.

“Just Hayden is fine.”

The men laughed and Kyros declared, “I like this boy! Where ye from Hayden?”

“Frell.”

The boy named Bowen spoke up, “I’ve been to Frell once. I was ten and I saw the royal family at the menagerie by their castle. They would actually talk with the regular people.”

“The Princess Ella as pretty as they say she is?” A man named Gitano asked.

“Prettier,” Bowen replied. Namian felt weird with these men talking about his own mother.

“What about you, Hayden?” Kyros asked, “You seen the royal family?”

More often then you know. “Sometimes, it’s hard to get near them nowadays ever since the kidnapping.”

“Yes, I remember hearing about that in town when it happened,” another man said, “Lot’s of people were worried. To be honest I don’t think I really cared at the time, not exactly a loyal citizen if you know what I mean.” He playfully nudged Namian in the shoulder, who smiled slightly but didn’t really find it amusing.

The hunting party continued on their path, quieting down when they reached the part of the woods that was heavily populated with deer.

That morning they caught four deer and a few rabbits. Around noon they headed back for the camp.

~*~*~

“Where were you headed to?” Tania asked, the same girl that Kyros had offered her dress to. She was extremely pretty with her long dark hair and fiery green eyes. To Téa she didn’t seem to belong with these people, it was indeed strange.

“The Keli Mountains,” she replied. She and about ten other women sat in a circle pulling the stems off of fruit and setting them in separate piles. Since yesterday she had been getting to know the gypsies fairly well and this was the first time they had actually asked her a question about her trip.

“What would you be doin’ there?” Another woman asked.

“I was going to see my parents.”

“Introducing your new beau?” Nida chuckled.

Téa laughed, “Hayden? No! No, he’s just a sort of escort in case we ran into any trouble.”

“He’s not very good,” a little girl giggled. She was the youngest in the group and looked about ten. She had kept her eyes on Téa the whole time and was enthralled. Téa winked at her.

The group was silent for a minute until Tania spoke up,

“Oh fine! If you ninnies are too chicken then I’m going to ask. Téa, why is your hair red?”

Téa told them about the tribe and their custom of dying the hair blue or red, and they nodded with interest. The little girl was captivated. By the time she was finished the men returned with quite a few animals.

“Quite a catch,” observed Nida.

Kyros came over and kissed his wife, “It was a good day today. Hayden’s a fine hunter with his bow.” Behind him Téa could see Hayden smile playfully and shrug. He held two rabbits in his left hand. They must have really liked him since they had dropped the title of “Master Hayden”.

Kyros looked down at his elfian wife, “What do you say we have a feast tonight for our new friends?”

“I say good idea.”

The gypsy slapped his knee, “That’s what I’m talkin’ about! I’ll tell Winda to make a large portion tonight, and Gitano will play his mandolin.” He set off to tell the others. Hayden sat next to Téa.

“A feast for us?”

Téa nodded, “Yep. Whatever did you say to make them like you so much?”

He shrugged, “I’m just likeable and you won’t admit it.”

He grinned and she teasingly hit him in the arm.

The sky darkened into sapphire and the gypsies were hurriedly finishing their preparations for the festivities. The cook had prepared the dear meat and some vegetables and everyone had stopped his or her comings and goings to sit down for the meal. There were no tables or seats so everyone scattered about on the dirt floor to eat their meals. Looking up from his own meal, he noticed that Téa was missing from the feast. After scanning the camp with his eyes they finally rested on her slender figure sitting on a driver’s seat of one of the wagons. 

He got up and walked over to her, “What’s the matter?”

She sighed piteously, “Nothing. It’s just that we used to have feasts like this.”

“The tribe?”

“Yes.”

She was quiet, as if dismissing him, but he spoke anyway, “Why did you leave?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Do I look like I’m in a hurry to do anything?”

She threw him her usual look but continued, “I wasn’t like the girls in the tribe, much to the disappointment of my papa. All the other girls picked flowers and played princess, I picked fights and played bandits. When I turned sixteen my father wanted me to marry a man who was a friend of the family. He was a good man, I suppose, but I didn’t want to marry at all. And we would fight about it all the time. He finally became so frustrated with me he announced the engagement without my consent. That’s when I left. Last I heard my would-be husband married someone else.”

“Wow.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Sounds like your father and you didn’t get along.”

She shook her head, “It wasn’t like that, I loved him and I knew he loved me. But what he thought was best for me I didn’t see as necessary.”

The cook, Winda, came over and handed her a plate of food.

“Eat. We gypsies have a saying that one who does not eat the cooking has no respect for their hosts.”

Téa nodded and took the food. Namian returned to his previous spot on the floor to finish his. Soon the sweet twangs of the mandolin began to fill the air as Gitano played from his seat on another wagon. It was a slow song, but still very much of the gypsies. Bowen stood and asked a girl to dance, while Tania walked over to Namian.

“Dance with me.”

The only dances he knew were those of the court, not anything like this. He shook his head, “No thank you.”

She put her fists on her hips, “Did I say ‘Please dance with me’?”

“Well…no.”

She grabbed his hands, “Come!” She commanded. Pulling him to his feet she led him over to an open area where Bowen and the other girl were. An older couple danced there as well. She put his right hand on her waist while she held his left in her right.

“It’s easy for the lad,” she explained, “All you have to do is follow my feet. When my right foot goes back, follow it with your left.” She did so and he followed. When her foot returned to it’s normal position she repeat the step with her left. He followed. This was all done slowly in rhythm with the music. When they had finished the steps she explained the next,

“Now twirl me slowly.” He did so, and once she had turned around fully she let go a clapped her hands once at the same time the other dancers did. There were several gypsies dancing to the unhurried music now, all doing the same steps. Tania turned her back to him and clapped with the other dancers again.

“Put your hands on my waist,” she whispered back to him. He did so, “Follow my feet again.” She stuck out her right leg slowly, then her left. Namian mimicked her, having quite a lot of fun. Tania turned around again and they repeated the dance.

~*~*~

Everyone was dancing now except for Téa. She didn’t mind, she found the leisurely music soothing. She couldn’t help but watch Hayden and Tania though. He seemed a natural, as if he had actually been one of them…until the music began to pick up. She laughed as Hayden tried to keep up but only managed to stumble and nearly lose his balance. Another man on a drum joined Gitano’s mandolin. The music was even faster now. Finally Hayden gave up and took a seat near her.

“I’m afraid I may never be able to dance like that.” He observed the fast paced dancing of the gypsies.

“This is nothing compared to my tribe’s dances,” said Téa, “You would have quit after the first step.”

“Did yer tribe have songs? I mean the worded kind,” a voice asked behind them. They turned to see Kyros leaning against the wagon.

“Shouldn’t you be dancing with your wife?” Asked Téa, avoiding an answer.

“She’s puttin’ our little one down to sleep. Did your tribe have songs?”

Just wonderful!  “Of course, but they’re all in my language.”

He liked that answer, “I’m sure we’d all love to hear one.”

“Uh…” she hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was sing, “Hayden, a little help?”

“I’d love to hear one too.”

She glared, “I hate you,” turning back to Kyros she made one last attempt, “I’m not a singer, sir. My voice is husky and painful to listen to.” To that Kyros just laughed and took her hand.

“Come.”

Leading her to a place where everyone could see her, the people stopped to listen to what Kyros had to say.

“Our new friend Téa has agreed to sing us a song of her tribe.” At this the gypsies clapped. Téa wished for a dragon to come and carry her off. She hadn’t sung in front of the people since she was a little girl, and even then she was petrified. She tried to quietly persuade him,

“I’m really not a good singer.”

“Nonsense! Everyone can sing it’s just that some are better than others.”

“What will you sing for us?” Asked Nida, who had just then returned.

Oh, why not?

She searched her mind and decided on a favorite song of Hannah’s, “It’s called ‘Vílë’.” She cleared her throat,

“Inyë atsa mi víl

ösanwé, ve lótë firfíru,

ar tangwa mi mornië,

Inyë ten ta or ta tië.

Gitano’s mandolin began to play along to the slow melody.

Or lairë lómë inyë hára ar serin,

undu tindómë,

ar lár ana ta yello,

nna arin orta.

Lú inyë vela ta lilta arta aire,

ar lú inyë hlar sen ómainen,

lama moica ana nin.”

The gypsies were silent for a moment after she was done. The song always got that effect, it sounded sad yet soothing, and she loved the words. They were about a man who still dreamt of his wife even long after she passed away.

There was a thunderous applause. Téa bowed her head and then sat down. The music began again.

Hayden bowed in congratulations, “That was wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Her face felt warm, was she blushing? Kyros then called for Hayden, and he excused himself, leaving Téa there to sit by herself.

“It certainly was first-rate. A very lovely language, I must say,” remarked a male voice to her right. She turned to see Bowen, smirking.

“Can I help you?” Asked Téa.

He folded his arms, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

She couldn’t even begin to count how many times she’d heard that line. She smiled sweetly,

“Yes…something else.”

He held up his hands, “Ouch. And if that was actually a come on that might have burned me.”

Her smile faded, “Oh. Then what do you mean?”

“Well,” he said, sitting next to her, “I don’t actually know. There’s an old gnome who lives with us named Ciara. She wants to see the both of you.”

“For what?”

He stood up, “Trust me.”

The gnome Ciara was indeed old. She measured up to half of Namian’s height and her grey, sullen eyes looked him over carefully. Yet there was something in those eyes…he could not tell, but those eyes made him feel alone, as if he had been dropped in the middle of a vast ocean or stranded on the moon. In spite of that she was dignified and refined at the same time, even with her gypsy clothing and wrinkled leather skin. He remembered his mother telling him that most gnomes had that effect on people.

She gestured to a small table with two chairs, “Sit.”

He obeyed, but felt compelled to ask, “What is this about?”

“No speak. Questions later.” Her Kyrrian was very broken.

She took his hand and closed her eyes. The music had stopped and the gypsies had gathered to observe. Téa stood close by as the next in line, watching.

Ciara opened her eyes again, “Something you must see.” She took out a wooden bowl and dumped several liquid ingredients in. The smell of it reminded him of the night he had slept in the cave with all the bats, and looked just as inviting.

“Give me nail.”

“What?”

She pointed to his hand, and managing to understand he bit off a fingernail and handed it to her. She dropped it in the soupy substance and stirred it, then held it up with her frail hands.

“Drink.”

Yuck! “Um…pass?”

But she persisted, “Drink!”

Reluctantly he took the bowl from her. The gypsies looked on anxiously as he looked at its contents. It was a bluish-brownish color, and it stunk. Badly. He looked over to Kyros, who only shrugged. Téa merely stared. Finally he held his breath and took a drink.

Darkness enveloped him almost immediately. The gypsies and the old gnome had disappeared into nothing. And that was all that was around him, nothing. No people, no wagons, no anything. He called out, but couldn’t hear his voice. What had Ciara done to him?

As suddenly as the darkness had come, it faded just as quickly. But he wasn’t back with the gypsies; he was now surrounded by hundreds of people. A thousand at least, and they were all in their finest attire.

A gavotte played loudly and some of the people danced. Others stood in a long line, mostly women; that stretched the length of the great hall.

Great Hall? He looked up and around. Tapestries hung from the ceiling high above him, hunting scenes, court scenes, and pastoral scenes. Marble pillars lined the walls on the left and right. This was King Jerrold’s castle; he was home!

Nearly crying out with ecstasy, he wove through the sea of people to try and find his parents. The people ignored him, but he didn’t care, all he could think of was his family.

He got to the dance floor and looked about. Something was different. The people were different, the atmosphere wasn’t right. He heard a woman from the endless line gabbing beside him,

“Can you believe it? I always knew the prince would choose a wife someday, and we get our chance! Isn’t this fabulous?”

“Has he been favorable with anyone yet?” The other woman asked.

“Well, at first there was that blonde beauty, but now he’s been dancing more and more with that girl with the mask. What was her name again?”

“I heard she’s from Bast. I really can’t believe he’s been dancing with a girl from such a dumpy little town!”

“I heard she calls herself Lela,” another woman piped.

“The lady Lela? I’ve never heard that name.”

“Neither have I, but the prince has already taken her to meet his parents. And she’s all he talks about with his other dance partners!”

“Really! Isn’t he going to give any of us a chance?”

Namian couldn’t believe any of this, they were talking about his own father! This must have been the Three Galas his parents had told him so often about. But why had Ciara brought him here? What purpose could this have possibly served?

He turned to the woman who had been talking and tried to ask her something, but his hand merely faded through her shoulder, as if he were a ghost.

He saw a flash of white brush past him and looked over to see a woman in a mask, his mother, being led to the dance floor by none other than his father. Both were twenty years younger, and Namian followed them eagerly, listening as they danced.

“They are all asking about you,” his father said to her, “‘Who is this mysterious stranger?’ they say.”

“The maiden who wears a mask.”

“Why…”He stopped himself, then changed subject to court affairs. Namian marveled at how much he looked like his father, except for his own blonde hair. His mother had told him of this before, but now he truly believed her.

They walked out into the castle gardens and he followed, making note of a small open area that they passed. It had been (or would become) one of his favorite play spots as a child. His father spoke of meaningless things, obviously trying his best to entertain her. In the moonlight Namian saw tears on his mother’s cheeks, but his father didn’t notice. The hours passed by, his mother and father talking about idle things, while he sat on a nearby bench and listened.

At about half after eleven Namian saw a dark shape out of the corner of his eye. He looked over to see a human figure standing in the doorway that led back into the castle. It’s dark shape contrasting against the bright lights inside; Namian stood and walked over to it to get a closer look. The figure was a woman. She was beautiful with her wavy blonde hair that fell down to her waist. She watched the two people silently from her station, and Namian wondered how long she had been there.

She muttered something and Namian bent closer to hear. She muttered it again.

“It’s all pointless. This whole evening…everything…pointless,” She pulled her shawl around her for warmth and then looked straight into Namian’s eyes.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Namian?”

Darkness came again.

~*~*~

“Is he alright?” Téa asked as she watched Hayden be carried off by two men towards their wagon.

“I don’t know,” Kyros answered, “Ciara’s never done anythin’ like this before.”

Nida spoke up, “Shouldn’t you ask her what this is all about?”

“I don’t think that would be wise.”

The old gnome looked up and gestured for Téa to sit down. She obeyed, and Ciara took Téa’s hand as she had Hayden’s.

“Future is frightening,” Ciara said, her eyes widening in terror, “Something wrong! You must see!”

She emptied the bowl and mixed in more ingredients, this time taking Téa’s fingernail. She pushed the bowl to her.

“Drink. Quickly.”

Téa hesitated, “What will happen to me?”

“Drink! Now!”

Téa drank, and instantly the gypsies left her, leaving her in pitch-black darkness.

“Where am I?” She cried out. She couldn’t hear herself and nothing answered back.

She felt herself fall, not downwards, but backwards. Light came rushing in, and suddenly she was in the middle of a forest. A campfire next to a homemade tent blazed, and Téa saw a lock of blue hair peak out from the tent.

“Hannah!” She cried, and ran to her sister to embrace her. But her hands passed through the sleeping maiden. In horror she stood up and looked at her surroundings. She was in the forest near Bast. It was a year ago.

She turned to the sound of running footsteps and saw…herself. Her past self was dressed in her barmaid’s clothes and she held papers in her hand.

“Hannah! Hannah wake up!” The girl shook her sister almost violently. Hannah sat upright.

“Arleta? What is all of this?”

“Get up! We have to go. Now!”

Téa watched her memory before her. She knew what was going to happen next, and screamed at the two figures of the past.

“Go now! They’re coming! They know where you are! Run!” Her screams faded into the wind, the two girls ignorant of her warnings. She kicked the ground in a rage and watched in horror as her past self hurriedly explained what the documents and who the men were.

“We’ve got to leave now!” Hannah cried, pulling on a man’s hunting uniform that had served as her clothes for the past month or so. But Téa knew that it was useless, the four men weren’t far away.

A flying arrow pierced the tree next to Hannah’s head, then another by Téa’s foot. The two girls bolted from the camp, the Téa of the present following behind. She had never run so fast in her life.

Then she heard Hannah cry out and fall to the ground. An arrow had hit her thigh. The Téa of the past tried to pull her up.

“Run,” Hannah gasped, “Get to King Jerrold’s castle and tell him what’s happening.”

“I won’t leave you!”

“I’ll be fine. Go!”

Present Téa fell to her knees next to Hannah as the past Téa reluctantly ran away. Hannah held her leg in pain as she watched the men approach, all on their horses. One of them laughed,

“Well! What say you, Russell? Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a deer!” The three other men laughed cruelly.

“Or a blueberry!” said another.

Russell dismounted his horse and walked up to Hannah. Téa instinctively put herself in front of her sister but Russell passed through her and began to bind Hannah’s hands.

Before he lifted her up Hannah looked straight into Téa’s eyes.

“You know what will happen if they get those documents. Find mama and papa, they’re in danger!”

Suddenly Téa was surrounded with rushing water. The men and Hannah were gone, but all she could think about was air. She tried to move but her legs were tied down to something. Her lungs burned and she was forced to swallow water.

Téa woke up screaming.

~*~*~

Namian jolted awake. Téa had stopped screaming now but was breathing hard. They were back in their wagon on the beds, the light of morning creeping in.

He put a hand on her shoulder, “What happened?”

She just sat there for a minute as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

“Téa?”

“It was so real……so real.”

“Téa!”

“We have to leave, now,” she got up and jumped out of the wagon, Namian followed. Most of the gypsies had woken up to Téa’s screams and were peering out of their wagons. Téa walked straight over to the wagon where Kyros and Nida slept.

“Kyros? Kyros, wake up.”

His head came into view and he sleepily asked, “What’s all this?”

“Hayden and I need to leave now.”

He shook is head to wake up and then looked at her, “You know I can’t let you leave yet.”

“Am I still so untrustworthy? I could have left by now but I’m asking your permission.”

Nida peered out as well, “What did Ciara give you last night?”

“I can’t explain it to you now, but I have to get to my parents,” her voice cracked slightly as she said this. Kyros looked at his wife and then back at Téa.

“I don’t know, Téa. How do we know ye won’t go runnin’ off to tell the powers that be where we are?”

“I don’t know.”

“Perhaps we can help,” Bowen said behind her. They looked to see him already dressed to travel. Tania stood beside him. Both wore their swords.

“We’ll make sure they get to her parents,” said Tania. Kyros nodded.

Namian shook his head, “We can’t get more people involved in this, and you don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“You have no idea,” he heard Téa mutter.

“Either that or you stay here, your choice,” said Bowen.

“I agree,” said Kyros, sitting up, “either they go with you or you stay here.”

With some reluctance Téa agreed. Namian couldn’t believe they were adding more people! It was like inviting them to their deaths. He had seen how those men hunted her, what her life was like. It was practically a death certificate.

“I’d like to leave now if that’s possible.”

Kyros nodded, “Do ye need horses?”

“Yes. Your fastest if possible.”

Hopping out of the wagon and pulling a shirt on, Kyros led the four outside the circle of wagons to where the horses were tied up. They were some of the finest he had ever seen.

“Passed by a nobleman’s stables on the way here,” Bowen explained, “Seemed too many horses for just one man, so we took the liberty of relieving him of extra feeding costs.” Tania laughed.

“Why do we need to leave now?” Namian asked Téa.

“It was my dream…or drink, I suppose,” she told him, “My sister…she told me my parents were in danger.”

Kyros walked over to them with a horse. He was a black stallion and was beautiful.

“For you,” he said to Namian, who gratefully accepted the reins, “his name is Sheriden.”

“Thank you,” said Namian. He mounted the tall beast easily.

“And for you,” Kyros said to Téa, “we have Calla. She is spirited but will accept anyone with the same nature.” He smiled and showed her a white horse.

She nodded her thanks and took Calla’s reins. “You guys ready?” She called to the other two who had mounted their horses as well.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” said Tania.

“Let’s go,” called Bowen.

After saying goodbye to Nida and the rest of the gypsies, the four galloped away from the camp. Namian watched as Téa pushed her horse faster than anyone.

“How may we be of assistance my lord?” questioned the elf; who was obviously the leader of the village. The other elves of the village stood by nervously.

Russell looked around. No wonder elves were so filthy; they lived in dirt! Well, trees, but it was practically the same thing.

“I have orders from his royal highness Prince Charmont to search this village for his kidnapped son Prince Namian. We have reason to believe he may be being held here,” Russell couldn’t help but smirk when he said this. The elves looked terrified.  A young female elf ran up to the side of his horse,

“It’s a lie! The royal families of Frell are our allies! We would never take their son!”

The head elf pulled her away, “Hush Merin! Do you want to get us into more trouble?”

“We were never in trouble to begin with!” Said Merin as she jerked her arm free.

Russell managed to hide his smirk this time. Of course this all was a lie. Prince Charmont would never touch, let alone accuse, the elves of the local wood, but Russell needed them out before he could take his plans into action. Elves could be fearless warriors and reinforcements if Charmont needed them. That was out of the question.

“Leave no tree standing,” he whispered to the knight beside him, “and…try to make it look like an accident.”

The knight nodded and called out orders to the other thirteen guards. They each lit a torch and raided the elfian homes, all “accidentally” setting them on fire. The elves tried to break for the pony stables, but Russell had already set them all loose. Not one elf was going to leave this village alive, not while he had his say.

~*~*~

“Téa! Slow down!”

She ignored them.

“Your horse is going to collapse!”

“I don’t care!”

Tania made her horse gallop alongside Téa’s and took the reins, forcing her to slow down. She tried to take the reins back but the gypsy girl kept them just out of her reach. The four horses slowed to a stop on the deserted road and headed for a small clearing not far away.

“We have to keep going!” Téa shouted at them, her anger rising fast.

“Téa,” Hayden reasoned, “We’ve been riding since this morning. Your horse or one of ours would have buckled and then where would we have been?” She watched angrily while Bowen prepared a campfire.

“We are not staying here tonight.”

“We may be,” said Bowen, not looking up from his task, “the horses are exhausted and I’m exhausted. Any farther and you probably would have killed that little beauty.” He indicated her horse Calla, who was breathing heavily and lapping up the water she had been given. The other horses were doing the same. Tania herself was drinking from a small water flagon.

Téa held her head in her hand, “Why can’t you understand this? I have to get to my parents!”

“We all know why,” said Tania kindly as she sat on a log, “but we have no idea whether Ciara’s potions were really working like you said they were. It could have just given you images that you wanted to see.”

“I’m sure I’d really want to see my sister taken from me all over again!” Téa snapped. She unhappily sat on a log by herself, resting her head in both her hands now. Hayden tried to sit next to her but she moved to another seat.

“We’re going to stay here whether you like it or not,” he said to her, “make the best of it.” She only sulked on her log and folded her arms for warmth. Bowen finished building the fire and sat down next to Tania.

“Perhaps we should try and get some sleep so we can leave early tomorrow,” said Tania. Téa was grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood, but nothing would satisfy her more than if they left right now. She settled down on a small blanket and watched the others do the same, all the while listening for the peaceful breathing of sleep.

~*~*~

Namian’s eyes slowly opened. The moon was far over to his right, indicating that it must have been about four in the morning. The cold of the night made him see his breath and he had lost feeling in his nose. He sat up and instinctively blew warm air into his frozen hands, looking about the camp.

Téa’s bed was empty.

He looked around him, but could barely see anything even with the moonlight. He barely spoke a whisper for fear of waking Tania and Bowen,

“Téa?”

There was no answer. He called her name again, this time in his normal voice,

“Téa?”

Bowen stirred and looked up,

“Have you any idea what time it is?”

Namian held up his hand to silence him and stood. He scanned the forest.

“She probably got up for natural business,” Bowen slightly chuckled, “she’ll be back soon.”

Namian didn’t believe him. Téa knew not to walk a strange forest by herself; she was cocky but not stupid. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called her name again. Tania woke with a start and shushed him.

“You want all the ogres in Westova to hear you!” she hissed, but stood also.

Calla was gone.

“She left!” exclaimed Bowen. He ran over to his horse and mounted, the others did the same. They sprinted off in the direction of the Keli Mountains.

“What could have possibly possessed her to just leave?” Tania shouted, as her horse raced alongside Namian’s, “Doesn’t she know how many ogres are about?”

“Obviously not,” Namian shouted back. Golden strands of sunlight were beginning to caress the horizon, and the Keli Mountains in the distance glowed a soft red. They were great and majestic, with snow capped peaks.

“Téa’s parents will most likely be at the base of the mountain,” shouted Bowen, “any higher up and I would be surprised if the weather hasn’t killed them by now.”

“But there must be dozens of caves in the base,” Tania replied, her head just barely missing a low branch, “how will we know which one it is?”

“The cave has to be by a water source,” said Namian, “are their any rivers or lakes nearby?”

“There’s a river that runs along the base on the east side,” said Tania. They headed in that direction.

Slowly the mountains began to grow into terrifying giants, towering thousands of feet up. Tania had been right, there were many caves along the base. He didn’t know where to look. Fortunately Bowen found the river right away. They trotted alongside it for about a mile before they noticed a cave up the hill a ways. The opening had been cleverly closed off with stones. An arched doorway with a red wooden door was in the middle, and a small garden grew off to the side. Calla munched on the vegetables.

The door was slightly open.

Namian dismounted and approached the cave cautiously. No sounds came from inside. The door creaked loudly as he pushed against it.

The light from outside illuminated the room. He instantly recognized Téa’s back facing him. She stood very still and silent.

“Téa?”

She didn’t answer, but turned slowly, as if she were a ghost. The look on her face was a perfect mixture of terror and confusion. Namian could see why, the entire home had been ransacked. Clothes and broken pottery were scattered all over the floor. Drawers from dressers had been thrown open and rummaged through. Chairs and a table had been overturned, the mattress from the bed had been ripped open and the stuffing taken out. Téa’s parents were nowhere in sight.

She opened her mouth but no words came.

“Maybe they left before this happened,” Namian reassured her, “thieves always rob houses that are abandoned. They probably left to find you.”

“My parents wouldn’t…” she began, but stopped abruptly when her eyes focused on the floor. Namian looked down as well and saw what she was staring at: wet footprints.

~*~*~

They couldn’t…they wouldn’t! No one knew that her parents were here, but there was only one place the wet footprints could have come from.

The river.

“No,” the word rasped out of her throat as she pushed past Hayden and ran towards the river. The others followed behind, but she was to fast for them.

Taking a deep breath she dove headfirst into the water.

This was no small river either, it was at least fifty feet wide, and its bottom was deeper. The currant was strong but she fought hard as she swam.

Away from the side of the river, her movements stirred less muck. The water grew darker as she swam down but she pushed on. Her lungs were burning from the oxygen she was using up with her kicking, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was that she would not soon find what she didn’t wish to find.

But it was to late. Her foot kicked something soft behind her, and she stopped instantly. Please, no. No!

But when she turned around her eyes and her stomach lurching confirmed her worst fears. And though it was incredibly dark, her eyes had adjusted just enough so she could see.

They were bloated, horribly disfigured, hands (which were bound together) in fists, arms floating in front of them. Their eyes and mouths were open, and their faces and necks were purple. Below two heavy bags tied to their feet held them down.

Téa breathed in water.

 An arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her up. She fought against it, wanting to die with them, but the arm just pulled harder. The ghostly faces of her dead parents faded into the darkness.

~*~*~

Namian pulled Téa out of the rushing river and laid her gently on the dirt. She choked up the water and with it the sobs gushed out, crying out a fierce wail that pierced the morning air and their souls. Namian stepped back with Bowen and Tania and watched in silence as she poured her heart on to the ground.

After a long while, the tears slowly faded away. Then she laid there for a long while, as if thinking. A horrible rage was growing on her face as she gripped her waist pouch tighter and tighter.

“Téa…” Tania began, but in the blink of an eye Téa was up on her feet. She tore the pouch away from her waist and dumped out its contents. Two pieces of folded paper floated to the ground.

Snatching them up she tore them to several pieces in a blind rage and threw them into the river. The three of them weren’t sure what to do, but Bowen quickly walked up to her and grabbed her wrists to stop her.

She struggled against him, shouting, “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him!”

“Who?” Tania asked her, but Téa had started sobbing again.

Picking up one of the only pieces that hadn’t been thrown into the river, Namian examined it.

Though the piece was very small, he could make out a sort of outline for a bedroom. And the words written on it were as plain as day: King Jer—

“Meknen tolo ktar! Ish benech mont tama!” Téa started speaking in her language, swearing no doubt. Namian walked up to her and showed her the piece.

“What is this Téa?”

“…I’ll kill him…I’ll kill him…”

He put both hands on her shoulder and shook her, “What is this Téa?!”

Her face was blank, as if she didn’t even know she was talking, “All they wanted were those blueprints. Those stupid castle blueprints…`”

“Whose castle?”

“King Jerrold’s. They were going to invade…”

“Who was going to invade?”

“Those men…they took Hannah away from me,” she started crying. But Namian shook her again, Tania tried to stop him but he batted her hand away.

“What men, Téa?!”

Her voice was barely a whisper, “Bruno…Russell…Victor…”

“Sir Russell of Frell?”

She nodded slightly, but her eyes were focused on the ground. She promptly heaved and threw up.

I’ll kill him!  It was all Téa could think about now. Tania had up righted a chair and found a blanket to wrap around her as they sat together in the empty cave home. The gypsy girl placed a cup of something hot in her hands. Téa looked up at her quizzically/

“It’s just some broth, but it will give you some strength.”

“Where did you find broth?”

Tania shrugged, “I found some in the kitchen. Just drink.”

The soup was good, and it did make her feel stronger, almost instantly. The hole in her heart remained, however, and she knew it would never go away. The broth had cleared her wits enough to think however.

Tania sat beside her, “Téa? You keep saying ‘I’ll kill him’. Who are you talking about?”

Thoughts of revenge built up inside her like a raging storm. She wasn’t going to let him get away, not while she still drew breath. She stood up quickly, surprising Tania, and grabbed her cloak. If she was to find him she had to leave now.

~*~*~

“You can’t go now, Hayden,” said Bowen, he patted some more dirt on to the grave; “Téa needs you now.”

“I have to get back to Frell.”

“Why?”

“I have to tell King Jerrold of those blueprints in Téa’s waist pouch,” he paused, standing, then added, “My duty as a nobleman requires me to do so.” He knew that he shouldn’t leave Téa now, but as crown Prince of Kyrria what choice did he have?

Bowen stood up as well, “Isn’t it also your duty as a noble to stay with one who is in mourning?”

Namian was slightly surprised at Bowen’s knowledge of such things, but then he knew little should surprise him these days.

His family was more important to him, though. He had to get back to his parents and tell them what had happened, and nothing could stop him…Almost.

Just then Téa brushed past him and headed for her horse. He rushed up to her as she mounted Calla.

“What are you doing?”

She pulled on her hood and took the reins, “My parents deserve vengeance.”

Bowen walked up as well, followed by Tania, “Téa, you can’t run off and kill Russell. You’ll be dead by tomorrow, I guarantee it.”

She looked down at them, “Russell’s time will come, but he’s not the one I’m after.”

“Who, then?”

“Harloe,” with that she snapped the reins and galloped off. Tania and Bowen looked at Namian, as if telling him what to do.

Namian swore and headed for his horse.

~*~*~

Russell and his fourteen guards carefully made sure that the fires didn’t spread past the elves’ village. Anything major would catch Charmont’s attention right away, and Russell still needed time to get him and his men out before the blame was thrown their way. A younger knight walked up to him and reported,

“Willis there said he spotted some elves escaping into the woods during the confusion. Said one of ‘em was that younger she-elf who sassed you earlier.”

Anger rose, “And he let them get away?”

The young knight nervously shifted, “H-he said there was a wall of fire b-blocking and he couldn’t get to ‘em.”

“What way were they going?”

“Uh…towards the…um…palace.”

In the blink of an eye Russell grabbed him by the throat and held him just an inch above the ground.

“Sir! Please…it wasn’t my…” the young man choked, but as Russell’s anger coursed through his grip he gripped tighter. Finally the knight blacked out and Russell tossed him to the ground like a rag doll. It was Willis’ fault, of course, but he needed to let out his frustration and the young guard was closer.

“Willis!”

An older knight with grayish brown hair promptly bounded up, “Yes my lord?”

“What have you done about the escaping elves?”

“I sent a squad immediately in the direction of their flight.”

“And when the squad finds them?”

Willis nervously tugged at his collar as if he hadn’t thought that far ahead, “They will…bring the prisoners back to you?”

Russell longed for his crossbow, “You get rid of witnesses. You always kill them off.”

Willis saluted and nearly shouted, “Yes sir! Won’t happen again sir!”

The captain waved him off and the knight obediently walked away. Why did idiots constantly surround him?

If the runaway elves made it to Charmont’s castle and told him what happened, then he was out of a job for at least a month. That and the Prince would put a price on his head, which wouldn’t be very much fun.