《Tale of Remus & Gwillherm》


 Chapter I: A Very R茅al-Feast

    In days long past, those long before Gwilherm or his sister Elena¡¯s children had ever drawn breath, the lands of Estria were ravaged by Balthrorth Terror-Wing. Also known as Balthrorth Red-Wing, he was the greatest terror along with his cousin, Razenth to have ever swept through the lands of Bretwealda. The lordly-isle had since he had arrived in the east, long before his cousin flew northwards, to bear witness to the passage of seventeen years. Razenth having gone north, but six years prior, to bother the Caleds and split their realm almost into two, with his claiming of a mountain in the lands of Noroak, to the north of the High-King¡¯s personal domain. The king¡¯s coffers poorer for it, due in no small part to the red-drake¡¯s seizing of all the east-lords held, including the king¡¯s due of those lands. The line of noble ?thelred Wyvern-Slayer had been brought low, by the flames spewed by the dragon, which had crossed through the south of the Twelve Kingdoms to reach Bretwealda. With countless warriors having already attempted to unseat him, from the high-mountain known as Mt-Sorg, where countless sorrowful tales have sprung from over the years.


    The local villagers had at first, sought to flee to the coasts, of Estria or to other parts of the kingdom of Brittia. However, this had only displeased the dragon who had set a great deal of those lands ablaze, before he set a man to warning the king to return all peasants of Estria back to the east. Troubled, since though a bold warrior, ?thelwulf was by no means a fool and turned thence to his chief councillors, who all advised him not to anger the beast. The Estrian clan who had once lorded over the region, had been lost therefore, mayhap they could appease the crimson-scaled one with the offer of his daughters for feasting, said one man.


    Liking this council, the heir to the Wyvern-Throne assented to sending the eldest, who was but fifteen summers, as a sacrifice to the drake. Who surprised, yet pleased by the offering demanded now a tribute in gold also, and when this was also sent he grew bolder still. Demanding of the local Estrians, a maid from each of the three castes; one of noble-birth, one base-born and another of the cloth, he set to feasting upon his tri-annual sacrifices.


    Distressed by these demands, yet unable to refuse, the wolf of Brittia cowed and beaten, when he had run out of daughters of Cerdic Hatchet-Lover (the father of the three poor maidens who were the initial sacrifices), turned this time to his Chancellor. The Archdruid of Lundrun Cathedral, Uhtred of Beldruin counselled his liege-king, with due reverence. ¡°Turn now to the daughters, of those clans and high-born men, who were most unwilling to kneel to thee, sire. Mayhap, a lottery can be arranged to include their daughters¡¯ names, this could prove efficacious in culling the realm of those who might otherwise, prove rebellious.¡±


    This counsel might have appalled ¨¦luan the Golden-King of Neustria and Lyonesse, but to ?thelwulf it seemed not only prudent, but worthy of laughter. Yes, he said to himself and to all who knew him well, he was well-served by such a councillor as Uhtred. For who else could have turned such a tragedy as a dragon perching himself, atop the highest point in Estria, to the king¡¯s profit. This along with the ¡®drake-tax¡¯ that was inflicted upon those of common-birth and of the mercantile ranks, enriched his coffers, with the nobles selected to sacrifice their daughters ordered to forfeit their would-be dowries also to the dragon. This way, the king may avoid spilling open his own coffers for the dragon, thus cheating him of royal wealth, without openly doing so.


    It was an act that would have shocked and disgusted ?thelwulf¡¯s ancestors, such as ?thelred Wyvern-Slayer, ?eelric Fort-Builder and Eadmund Land-Grabber. Who had in some cases fought against wyverns, the black-magic twisted cousins of dragons, and in that of others had fought Erde-Wyrms, the wingless-drakes. Such as when Blaurung the Giant-Wyvern was struck dead by ?thelred Wyvern-Slayer, or Ergaron Land-Shaker was smote dead by ?eelric¡¯s lance, when the beast attempted to devour his son, Eadmund. Who later in life, hunted and slew Ergaron¡¯s twin children, Ergath and Argaroth the Terrible, for their own sins. Sins that included the devouring of children in the locality of the Vendrak Mountains, near Weliscia and several of the king¡¯s dogs, with the king fighting to save his favourite blonde-dog, Ziu.


    The noble examples set by these mighty warriors, might have inspired another man to acts of bravery, yet not the current king. Who was more interested in profiting from this state of affairs, something which had offended many of his chief supporters, including the princes-turned mercenaries Aymon and L¨¦on. The cousins of ¨¦luan, they had been educated at their cousin¡¯s expense, and though possible rivals it was said that the elder of the two, oft-exchanged messages with the Golden King. Who himself, had slain Balthrorth¡¯s uncle Mydan of the Crimson-Flame, in single combat. A brave-hearted warrior, Aymon might well have departed east to stop the beast himself, as might have his no-less courageous if far more cynical brother, L¨¦on. Were it not for the king¡¯s command, which forbade them specifically from doing so, with both of Gaucelin the Traitor¡¯s sons infuriated by the order. This was as they liked to remind all who strayed near them, their chance to prove themselves, braver and truer men than their father. Infamous for his betrayal of his kin, whom he had aided in the assassination of before he was cut down by his co-conspirator, Charles the Usurper (who was himself years after his treachery slain and possibly devoured by Mydan).


    They were his finest warriors, and the only ones who could command the small number of knights sent across the Brittian Channel, by ¨¦luan to serve his exiled cousins as retainers. These knights were some of the most valiant men in arms, in the whole of the lordly-isle. And thus served, as the chief-most discouragement for any who might fancy, dislodging the king from his throne, as ?thelred had done to his elder half-brother and rival Ecgberht III the ¡®Slovenly¡¯.


    Thus was the state of the realm; a state under a king who dreamt of expansion into the realms of the Arn-law to the north of Londilnarium and into Cymru to the west. Where the vast majority of king¡¯s huscarls, and men-at-arms had thrice advanced into to put a great number of Cymrans, to the sword as one on a hunt might. That is until several of their various barons had at last bent the knee, before him and acknowledged him as liege-lord.


    Still though, no amount of victories in the west or north could quite dispel the sense of wrongness, of sorrow for the east that dogged all those in attendance at ?thelwulf¡¯s court. For he had failed in his kingly duty, to protect his people from the dragon that had laid claim to the title, of ¡®King of Estria¡¯, a title that infuriated ?thelwulf to near murder every time he heard it. As it challenged his own title, something he despised more than heretics (for in spite of everything, he was a deeply pious man, who held holy-Father Temple above all else in life).


    Today though, it was the festival of the Paragon Vargrim, who was said to be the Temple¡¯s Dwarf-patron of miners. One who had been canonised two centuries prior, for his efforts to not only convert miners near the lands of the Draguilian Mountains to the east of the Twelve Kingdoms, but for his self-sacrifice in the rescuing of a dozen Dwarves during a cave-in. Dead for three centuries, it is said he went to convert his people, who received him poorly, yet when there was a cave-in, he was the first to refuse to relent in the rescue of the frightened miners. Blasting through stones boulders with the might of the goddess Brigantia, he had died, under thousands of tons of rock after having rescued all those buried down below. After this, the Dwarf-town he had helped, converted en masse and asked the Temple to make their hero a Paragon of the Temple. This was acquiesced at once, to by the Grand Divan Justice I who had declared his friend, Vargrim¡¯s feast day to be the fifth day of the third month that of Hr¨¥emonath, as it was known to the people of Brittia.


    The festival was one that ?thelwulf rather liked, as he had had a Dwarvish tutor in his youth, and Vargrim was precious to those Dwarves who belonged to the faith of Quirinas. The festival tended to involve a great deal of feasting for the whole of the day with it being open to any Dwarves in Brittia. Notably those Dwarves capable of singing great songs, in praise of the king, his line and of the faith itself, as these were the great hymns that best-pleased the great unifier of all the six kingdoms of Brittia.


    For his own part Gwilherm, had no great love for the feast. For that matter, he had not much love for much of anything or anyone about him. His was a bitter spirit, one prone to spilling much bile into the ears of any who might hear of his woes. So that he was unpopular, unliked and unwanted save by his dear sister, several of her children and one or two locals. Not since, the second year of his arrival in Auldchester more than sixteen years prior, after the devastation of the R¨¦alwaldr lands in Estria had he borne a friendly expression. As those lands were his by right, not that the law had much concerned his good-brother (whom he dubbed a thief in private), they were his by right due to the death of his older brother Eadwin at the hands of the lord of Falsveal, Morcar the ¡®Hatchet¡¯. A lord who had apparently not only survived, but thrived under the rule of Balthrorth Terror-Wing, enough to seize the lands of many other men. It was said that, he had evaded several payments to the dragon, with the man not having been heard about, in Auldchester or the rest of Gewisse in some time.


    Ordinarily, Gwilherm might have been expected to hold his titles in absentia of sorts, to delegate the management of his estates, through stewards and messengers. However, this had not been the case upon his older sister, Elena¡¯s marriage to ?thelwulf. Previously a life-long bachelor, he had fallen at first sight for the eldest of the surviving R¨¦alwaldr children and discovering that she might otherwise have been moderately wealthy had, simply served to worsen his greed for her. It was not long, before Gwilherm was reduced in status with Archdruid Uhtred declaring him illegitimate, and ¡®discovering¡¯ the legitimate heiress of his Estrian estates to really be Elena. Thus, was he reduced to little more than the ¡®king¡¯s harper¡¯ and ¡®good-brother to the king¡¯. Positions that neither pleased, nor amused him, in spite of his very real fondness for song and music and his affection for his elder sister who had hoped with her marriage, to draw some favour from the king for her brother. Thus far, naught had been achieved for his case other than for him, to have become something of a laughing-stock at court.


    Forced to perpetually follow the king everywhere on his many tours throughout his domains; domains that stretched for their own part from the Channel in the south, to as far north as the Lion-River, not unlike the dogs that sat and wandered the feast-hall present herewith. The lands of Cymru and Ergyng in the west, though many of the lords of those lands, owed him homage, with Saesonia and other such lands in the east also beyond the wolf¡¯s grasp.


    It was with these gloomy thoughts in mind that Gwilherm, attended to the feast, one that involved the high-lords of the realm being seated at a high-table, where they could attend the king. At the lower ones were his huscarls (his house-hold warriors), poets and those lesser nobles sometimes in attendance at his court. The tradition of keeping huscarls was originally an Arnish one, however having eternally battle-ready warriors at hand had pleased ?thelwulf immensely. Especially since he was a man who trusted his people, as much as he did his enemies to the west and north of his realm, with his suspicions of his nobility hardly justified. As most owed ranks entirely thanks to his patronage, with the king during the feasts of Vargrim always ordering for there to be music played in the background. Regardless if someone stood before his table, before the central-fire in the middle of the hall, with their harps, lyres or drums in hand. With as said dogs also present, though they wandered the great-hall with their tongues lolling, some played with one another, and still others begged, whistled through their noses and barked for table-scraps. Scraps that many in the hall such as Gwilherm, supplied generously to them, whereas others such as Uhtred kicked, yelled back at them full of hatred for dogs, due in no small part to him having been bitten as a child for teasing and bullying one of his father (the lord-baron of Weliscia)¡¯s dogs.


    Most musicians were to perform one after another, with there being very few peasant-born ones that were not of the Dwarvish people, for they were the most useful to him. Both as smiths and builders of the forts and keeps he loved so much.


    This feast took place in the grand-hall of the King in Auldchester, feast hall thirty-meters long and twenty-five wide, so that it was truly the kingliest of halls in all of Brittia. Built of stone using Continental techniques, the hall¡¯s floor was full of dirt, mud and was hardly as extravagant as the fifteen pillars to each side of the hall, holding the ceiling up. A ceiling made of grey-stone, the same colour as the walls and pillars, in the middle of the ceiling was a large square hole, for the smoke from the central-fire to escape from. With the walls being covered in magnificent tapestries depicting the deeds of ?thelred, the slayer of Blaurung the Giant-Wyvern, or those of ?eelric, and even that of Eadmund¡¯s slaying of the twins Ergath and Argaroth. Though the last two slayings were two separate incidences, they were oft-grouped together by artists and weavers. With the castle stone-walls full of tapestries detailing the deed, with the floor paved in some places, and unpaved in others (the upper-floors were all stone-covered). With the castle a new fortification in comparison to others on the Continent, as it rose fifty feet into the air, and was the tallest building in Brittia. It dominated the capital city of Auldchester and was built by ?eelric¡¯s master-builder Robert d¡¯Indegr¨¦kon. A brilliant master-builder of Neustrian extract, who in his youth had studied buildings in Korax, before he returned at forty-years of age, to Guilladon in Neustria, for five years before he was hired by ?eelric to build castles. The great-builder had sadly died at the advanced age of eighty a mere five years after the coronation of Eadmund.


    The feasts also typically involved the king pardoning most of those imprisoned throughout the principal city of Brittia, and involved a great many dances once the tables were set aside. Then there was the stone-gift giving ceremony, wherein it was expected that there was to be a gift of a gem of some importance exchanged. Typically between those who considered themselves brothers, or amongst lovers, with those of lesser stock exchanging simple pretty rocks, where those of the higher ranks gave rubies, emeralds or cerulean lapis-lazuli. Usually involved only as a singer or for his harp, Gwilherm this year had little of the joy of the festivities in him. For he had spent too much time as of late, singing songs for which he held no great love for; namely those celebrating previous kings of Gewisse.


    ¡°Drink Gwilherm, drink!¡± One man called from down the table, where he sat. A merry person by nature, Vladin the Dwarf, also known as ¡®Seat-Tripper¡¯ for his tendency to fall from his chair, after having drunk too much, in most festivals.


    Much as he oft appreciated the wit and company of the non-human, who had a love for drink that far surpassed that, of any other man present (save for the Neustrian prince L¨¦on). Gwilherm was in a melancholic mood, and would have preferred to depart for the temple of Brigantia in the city. He had a friend there, brother Melvin who oft preached one last Temple Session, just before midnight and who had a friendly way about him, and a habit of cheering up the nobleman, when he was in such a mood.


    ¡°Nay, he would prefer to weep into his goblet,¡± Taunted another, this one being one of many huscarls in the employ of the monarch. ¡°And spoil that whiny mutt, Remus!¡±


    The dog of which he spoke of, was a magnificent mix of mastiff and labrador breed, with a dark-mane every bit as black as the darkest of nights, not a spot of light nor brown upon his fur. With a great toothy-white grin, large enough to reach a man¡¯s knee he was but two years of age. A hunting dog, with a discipline problem, he had had a tendency of scaring off prey originally by barking too loudly and too soon. For this he had been kicked several times in his youth, an injustice that had scarred him towards the King and Archdruid. Neither of whom cared much for dogs who did not obey at once, then there was Remus the dog¡¯s tendency of scrapping with the other dogs for dominance. Named after the younger brother of Romulus, the founder of the city of Roma, which lay far to the south on the continent of South-Agenor, the city having been founded millennia ago, with Remus being the father of Remia the founding matron of the city of Remia far to the east. His was thus a kingly nature who by virtue of his inherited name and innate instincts could not tolerate being anything less than chief of all the King¡¯s dogs. He was also named and spoiled by the chief-harpist, Gwilherm who bore a special love for him, due in no small part to his being the who had cared for the brown-eyed dog, when he was but a pup.


    The Dwarf chose not to answer, ever a wise-policy when confronted by a man as burly as the one who had spoken. Eadgar was his name, and his sword-arm had been praised more than once by the man, to whom they were all sworn to. Never a particularly peaceable man, Eadgar had a tendency to worsen when filled with wine or beer, as he was in that moment.


    As the servants brought hither more food, from delicious pheasant shot down by the king¡¯s hunters or captured by his queen¡¯s falcons (falconry being a passion of hers), deer meat roasted over the kitchen fires, to the wolf, peacock and bear meats that were also common during such feasts. Many of whom were taken down either by the king himself, his men and dogs or by the great princes of Neustria, Aymon and L¨¦on. Of whom, there was more than one song that had sprung up, about in recent years. What was more was that there was plenty of beef, pork and chicken-meat all taken from various, of the king¡¯s estates that, decorated the realm. The meats often had spices from the Continent, along with sauces from there or ginger (a favourite of the Queen) imported from Lyonesse, dabbed on them.


    With these meats likewise came much warm bread, freshly cooked in the kitchens alongside the meats, made from local flour. Along with fruits ranging from apples, oranges, strawberries along with bananas and vegetables such as leeks, carrots, beans, peas, garlic and onions, with turnips ordinarily permitted, yet Dwarves despised them and for this reason they were forbidden during the feast of Vargrim. Special attention in turn was paid to pepper as a spice and to beef along with wolf or bear-meat, both considered delicacies by the Dwarves. For reasons related to their size in the case of the latter of the two examples of wild-meat, and in the former it was because according to Vladin, they had to ¡®¡®Tis the least they could do is feed us given how oft they feast upon our dogs.¡¯


    Such teasing was not always mean-spirited in nature, yet it had an inevitable effect upon Gwilherm¡¯s mood whenever and wherever he heard it. At times, he favoured it to the alternative topics he was frequently mocked for (such as his sister¡¯s marriage or his cowardice), other times he despaired of it. To-day he had yet to make up his mind, which was preferable preferring to until he could think of a good retort for Eadgar, Angar and several of the other huscarls who liked to make common-sport of besmirching his honour remain silent.


    ¡°Gwilherm, Gwilherm how many Estrians does it take to find a battle-field?¡± Angar asked, a large burly Tigrun that is to say a cat-man of sorts, with a thick mane of hair all about his head and chin, with cat-like eyes and fur the same gold as that of lions. He was a formidable beast of a man, with fists the size of the smaller man¡¯s skull.


    ¡°How many?¡± He asked from between his teeth, aware that to refuse to answer, was to make a grave mistake; namely to risk irritating the non-human. In the meantime, he held up a large bone full of red succulent venison, for Remus who whined, only to let loose a great cry of joy, upon the dropping of the venison upon the dirty, grungy mud-splattered floor.


    ¡°I dunno, but soon as one finds one rather than running from them, do let me know!¡± The Tigrun guffawed cheerily, his teeth bared and his body rocking with laughter.


    His mirth was infectious, with even Vladin joining in on the ribaldry, which earned him a sharp look from his friend only for him to shrug, ¡°It is a little funny.¡±


    He might have bitten back, were it not for a blow striking him to the back of the head, so that he spilled some small amount of wine upon his green tunic. A sharp curse followed before he turned his head with a scowl, ¡°What? You clumsy oaf, what do you think you¡¯re up to?!¡±


    It was Mildred the Chambermaid. A plump ogress of a woman, she was said to always be stealing from the king¡¯s stores and had a reputation for meanness surpassed only by the violence of her temper, and the dullness of her wits.


    ¡°Oaf am I? Filthy ingrate, ¡®tis your turn to sing lest ye might prefer to be thrown down into the prison, to spend the rest of your evening,¡± She murmured scowling at him, with eyes that might have belonged on the face of a cow. It likely might have been an improvement, given her looks he thought to himself as he gave a curt nod. Remus who had followed him, when he had moved backed away to stand behind him, frightened of the plump woman, who had a tendency to beat the castle-dogs when in a temper or drunk.


    ¡°Aye, I will see to it,¡± He grunted discontentedly, on his feet in an instant scowling at the chambermaid as he did so, unable to keep from one small burst of temper. ¡°Do not forget in the future chambermaid that, I am of noble blood and thus above you. It is not for you to strike me, as one might a child.¡±


    ¡°Aye, soon as you behave like a man and cease fleeing from battles then I will see to treating as such,¡± She replied with equal coldness, her words making him stiffen a little.


    They were as a knife through the wounded pride, he had nursed since his flight from the fields of Telvennar to the west of the Indralansian Mountains that decorated the lands of Cymru. It was four years since that battle, and it was the only time he had ever fled from battle. He was not alone, in having given way to fear, with the lord Siegehelm of Morwyn and a good number of ?thelwulf¡¯s men having also done so.


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    Certainly he was one of the first to flee, from the shield-wall once he saw just how futile it was to continue resisting, the forces of the Cymrians at the battle of Telvennar. This single deed was enough, to have condemned him to a lifetime of mockery and scorn, not simply by his fellow men, but also women. It was enough to crush a man¡¯s soul, for honour and dignity were all, even to a man such as Gwilherm. As it was, the only man whom had admitted to having fled was L¨¦on, yet he was such a formidable knight and warrior none dared to besmirch his name by calling him, a coward. Not to his face.


    Grumbling more to himself, for he had no great love for his good-brother, who had time and again laughed in his face, at his loss of titles and cowardice, and what was more had never acknowledged his own fear of Balthrorth. This in mind, he stepped forth to sing, having drunk so much he did something, he might not have otherwise done. Remus trailed after him only to plop himself down next to him, with his tongue lolling out, and his chin on the man¡¯s foot, putting it well and truly to sleep. He would never do so for any other man, save for Roparzh the knight or L¨¦on, or even L¨¦on¡¯s son Gaucelin, as most of the men present were of a violent nature, yet he had infinite trust in those mentioned and in Gwilherm.


    ¡°Come now brother, sing to us of courage and valour such that ye have never known!¡± ?thelwulf taunted with a loud laugh, his goblet in hand as he smirked at his brother from ¡®neath his dark beard and moustaches, his raven-hair flowed to his powerfully built shoulders. A formidable man, even if he were not king he likely might have earned himself a throne by simple physical mastery over other men.


    Being but five-feet six in comparison to the five-foot nine that his good-brother reached, Gwilherm despite his own attempts to reinforce himself physically in the courtyards of the castle, was as a mouse in comparison. This had always embarrassed him, yet now drunk as he was all it did was to add to his anger.


    With a shrug, he went to sing one song only to rethink it, and decide upon another.


    ¡°Hwaet! In the hour of deepest night didst Blaurung cross Salacia¡¯s joy,


    Dour did Ceoldric turn, for many a maids didst he devour,


    Vast wert the lands crossed, vaster still was his gift of sorrow,


    Where oh where was he who might paint the drake red?


    ¡®Who ye ask after? Who else but ?thelred?¡¯


    Lo! Fortune smiled upon Brittia,


    Yet where be ?thelred? Where be his equal?


    When Ceoldric¡¯s kin first beheld the broken land,


    Thus didst they open Auldchester¡¯s leaguer,


    The grey-king let his sons fly as hawks from his hands,


    Beorhtric be first both in birth and in war,


    Iron blade high a-gleam as a third sun one the wyrm did mar,


    He struck and thrust yet ne¡¯er was to see the day,


    Such sorrow lay upon his father who sung him many a lay!


    Wither didst Beorn second-born journey after many a¨Cdays,


    Swift was his yet swifter was Blaurung,


    Third to fly was Eadward also by fangs was he wrung,


    As brave as rest was Offa who by morn¡¯ as dead as they,


    Unmatched by grief was Ceoldric along with this lay!


    Where oh where was he who might paint the drake red?


    ¡®Who ye ask after? Who else but ?thelred?¡¯


    Lo! Fortune smiled upon Brittia,


    Yet where be ?thelred? Where be his equal?


    Where be a King who bears a mien as regal?


    ¡®Lo! Lo! Here I sit with naught before me save sorrow!¡¯


    Cried snowy-hair¡¯d Ceoldri his voice a great wail,


    Wind howl¡¯d and such was the pain that all shared it even the roof-sparrows,


    Not a face was unlign¡¯d by tear-trails,


    Woe to all who loved the king cried all gathered,


    ¡®Who o sons of Roparzh shall strike at the unconquer¡¯d?¡¯


    Ask¡¯d snowy hair¡¯d Ceoldric his voice a-wail,


    Lo! Lo! There he sat heart rent with sorrow!


    Who was there to fly north save the swallows?


    Thither stood Elgrod the chandler¡¯s son,


    He of the yellowest of hair that ere shone as a sun,


    ¡®Who ye ask? Who else but ?thelred?¡¯


    Lo! Fortune smiled upon Brittia,


    Yet where be ?thelred? Where be his equal?


    Where be he who says he is as regal?


    Where be Ealdmund¡¯s son-he who is most feeble?¡±


    Once he had concluded his song, sung in the clearest of voices that echoed across the great feasting-hall once built by ?eelric, the grandfather of ?thelwulf. All the more, because of how silent everyone became to hear, the remonstrative song spill from the lips, of the Queen¡¯s own brother. A man, they had long believed more mouse than man, more fool than warrior.


    For some time most stared. None spake, and none dared raise their gaze to glance unto the king¡¯s mighty countenance. Only Aymon and L¨¦on, long since the king¡¯s guests and even more royal in blood than he, seemed to hold no fear of Brittia¡¯s most high-warrior.


    This might have endured, had not Vladin that great big drunk, not fallen from his seat chortling a little. Though not after, L¨¦on burst into uproarious laughter alongside several of the other knights, and mercenaries he loved the company of.


    ¡°What a song!¡± He hooted to the black-fury and embarrassment of all around him, most especially his elder brother, ¡°Mayhap, the kings¡¯ necropolis near Auldminster may reveal where o where ?thelred and his like, may be found!¡±


    ¡°Shush brother, a little respect!¡± Aymon hissed at him, in their native Neustrian in a low voice angered by the buffoonish way in which, his equally high-born brother was behaving himself. Dark where his brother was fair, he dressed as darkly where his brother liked fine silks, especially blue and green ones, his lyrical tongue was one few in that grand hall understood. L¨¦on this afternoon wore green, with a fur-cloak with a black-falcon brooch (the great symbol of their royal house), he was long-haired where dark-Aymon was short-haired.


    ¡°Bah, what is the worst he will do to me? String me up? I should so hope for such courage from him.¡± L¨¦on mocked with a snort in the same tongue, evidently as you can see he had no compulsions, in regards to demeaning his host¡¯s good name. Or in enjoying the man¡¯s imported wine, from distant Aguiane, the southern most of the Twelve Kingdoms on the Continent.


    Whilst they bickered between them, ?thelwulf had begun to fulminate. His temper never under the greatest of control lay on the verge of exploding, as all could see from his reddened face. His wife, Elena noticing this attempted to soothe him, laying a gentle hand upon his wrist in a visible gesture to do this.


    Barely noticing this, or Uhtred the Archdruid leaning over to whisper into the ear, of the king seated to his right, Gwilherm was far, far too drunk and proud of what he had accomplished. He had put to his mind, the older man in his proper place, after a lifetime of humiliations by his hands. Or so he believed.


    ¡°I do hope my song has please you, brother and that it shall be spoken of for years to come,¡± He uttered with a small snicker of glee, taking the laughter of the Dwarf and L¨¦on as encouragement.


    ¡°Truly a magnificent song,¡± Uhtred pronounced with a slight nod of his head, a far more cool-headed individual than the warrior-king may ever hope to be. It was he who remarked with visible malice. ¡°To-day it appears that Gwilherm has taught us in song, what courage truly signifies! In future generations we shall recall back, to his magnificent words, ones that far exceed any deeds, performed by any of our great ancestors.¡±


    ¡°If he is so brave, mayhap it could be he who attempts the dragon next,¡± Galen commented with a loud belch, one that drew a giggle from some of his table-mates. Though for the most, his words were what inspired laughter amongst his comrades. This old man being one of the knights whom had served Aymon the longest, he was grey-haired and bearded having originally been dark also, though he was in his fifties. Dark-eyed he dressed finely also, in rich wool the same colour as the darkest of starless nights.


    ¡°Mayhap throw three of them at him!¡± Vladin added, to which many others laughed with him, as the Dwarf was very apparently unaware of himself and his words in that moment.


    Several of his people, laughed with him if more politely so, as they adored alcohol every bit as much as he, yet theirs were sounder spirits. Notably Kardrin and Palla, who were seated near him attempted to shush the drunk, who railed against them and made a bigger fool of himself.


    Hardly paying attention to this quarrel amongst the Dwarves, the king continued to fulminate and arose to his full-height to the visible concern of his Queen. ¡°If you think you could do far better than I, as King, Gwilherm Light-Foot mayhaps, it ought to be ye who are sent out to see to the matter of Balthrorth Red-Wing!¡±


    It was only thence that the awareness of his own folly, entered into the spirit of Gwilherm, who until then had been utterly in the thrall of his mead. With sobriety came a hint of trepidation, for he realised only then that he had risked the wroth of his good-brother, and might well have brought down upon his head, a fate far worse than any, the monarch could throw his way. His cheeks growing pale, just as his forehead and face did, he glanced about nervously, with the fullness of his old fearful nature returning with added force in that moment.


    None who had ever clashed with Balthrorth had ever returned, with this knowledge common-knowledge to all, with most of those who had set out having been better warriors than Gwilherm was. With this knowledge also known by all those about him, with the monarch who had just spoken only now thinking on what he had uttered a moment prior.


    ¡°Aye, ye should face the dragon as my ancestors once did, in honour of the song ye have sung!¡± ?thelwulf growled at him, full of righteous fury, ¡°Never forget good-brother that it was not by my will, that ye be cast out and sent on this noble quest!¡±


    His words earned him many laughs and cheers, with the jeers thrown towards his good-brother making the lesser man shrink a little, as much as the punishment heaped upon him. Part of him wished to scream ¡®mercy! mercy!¡¯ to his sister¡¯s husband.


    He was however beaten to the end of that particular race by her, as Elena reached for her husband¡¯s hand in a supplicating gesture, ¡°Mercy husband! Mercy for my dear brother! The only kinsman left in this world!¡±


    Her plea as most tended to, softened ?thelwulf a little though he was not so easily mollified on this particular day, with Uhtred gazing at her in a calculative manner. It was no secret that the Chancellor had no great love, for the Queen or her three sons. It is said that, he had once hoped to have one of his own daughters wed either the king or his sons, and had been denied this by sheer pigheadedness on the part of the royal, who had preferred to wed for love and Estrian titles. In place of influence throughout the southlands from which, both men had sprung, with the lesser man having sprung from a lowly baronial family on the border between south-eastern Morwyn and Gewisse.


    ¡°Agreed sire, to do such a thing to thy Queen would be a poor and dishonourable deed!¡± Aymon agreed at once, though his reasons for doing so were markedly different, a brave if foolhardy man he was always keen to prove himself the manliest of men present. ¡°Allow myself, and a small group of my men permission to depart upon this quest ourselves-¡±


    It was not the first time that he had made the offer, and all suspected that it would not be the last. So in love was he with the notion, of slaying a dragon himself, as his cousin had that he had attempted several times to escape east to do just that. The trouble was that, ?thelwulf had always forbidden it, and caught him every time he tried only to hold his nephew or men hostage. Reminding him of how ¨¦luan the Golden had forbidden his cousin from doing so, being protective of his cousin, as he wished for him to be his heir. Just as he wished for him to wed, one of his own noblewomen or countesses rather than some Brittian noble-lady. These being the wishes of the greatest of Kings, ?thelwulf could not allow either of them to head east not if he wished to avoid displeasing the Continental lord.


    ¡°Never!¡± ?thelwulf snapped at once, irritated by his guest¡¯s attempt to volunteer to go on this ridiculous quest.


    Aymon grumbled under his breath, with none doubting that he was liable, to attempt once more to escape east. His brother though, for his part simply shrugged in response giggling he only ever behaved himself, whenever his beloved son Gaucelin was near. Unfortunately for all present, the lad had already been sent away to sleep, by his father some time ago. ¡°Bah, why not execute him, with your own blade? Would that not be more merciful, than to cast him out to die to the claws or fangs of Balthrorth?¡±


    ¡°It was his choice, to sing of courage and to remark that we ought to emulate ?thelred Wyvern-Slayer.¡± Uhtred commented noticing how the king appeared to consider this proposal by L¨¦on, and aware that the kingdom could ill-afford to anger ¨¦luan. A monarch unmatched by any other, in all the land, ¡°Therefore, with this matter decided sire mayhap, we may have a more light-hearted song, next?¡±


    Thus did the feast return to its prior mood, with Gwilherm dejectedly returning to his place at the lower table, where he was mocked and jeered as before, until all departed in the early hours of the morn, after the king had. With the king and queen retiring in the early hours of the morn, to their chambers once they saw most of their guests had begun to nod off. The feast would continue for another three days, by which time most had grown weary of the food and had been ill once or twice, due to too much wine, mead or beer.


    When the king next reconvened his court formally, it was early in the morn the day after the feasts had ended. The King calling upon the Queen¡¯s brother, along with a number of other officials and courtiers, who all hurried to and fro, out of desperation so as to not displease the whimsical monarch. As it pertained they all knew, to the matter of Balthrorth, all wished to be present to hear what he had decided, and with some having already forgotten what was decided during the feast. Others simply believed it impossible, for the king to send away his wife¡¯s brother.


    Just before the embassy Gwilherm had decided to hide from the king¡¯s men, in his friend Melvin¡¯s home. One directly to the back of the temple of Brigantia he always worshiped in, with the brown-haired, plump druid keen to take him in, in the name of their friendship. Doing so at the request also of the Queen also; that is until L¨¦on came pretending to wish to confess his sins, just before he tricked the druid into running an errand down in the cellar for him. With the druid gone, the prince had slipped into the small room where Melvin lived, to find Gwilherm seated at the table with a small amount of pork and bread, along with red-wine from Norlam before him.


    Seized before he could take flight, with the protesting druid in tow, L¨¦on took them to the king¡¯s armoury saying as he did so, ¡°King¡¯s orders that you be properly armed. Thus is it time, for you to select arms and for me to assist in dressing you in proper armour.¡±


    Dejected, he did so, choosing a simple short-sword of simple iron, along with two daggers and a hatchet, a green buckler with the king¡¯s red wolf-wyvern symbol on it. And simple leather armour that made L¨¦on shake his head, in contempt, for the prince was a knight who favoured being fully-armoured from his toes to his chin. Not that he was entirely wrong, thought the noble just that he intended to still escape from this duty that had been forced, upon him in place of an execution.


    All the while he was dragged before the gates of the city, where the king awaited him with the entire royal court to see him off; he fancied thoughts of living as an outlaw. Perhaps, he could even take flight north, to the court of Causantin in Caledonia. It was said that the king was a noble one, who welcomed all those outlawed from Brittia, and who bore little love for ?thelwulf. These thoughts however, were banished the moment he stood before his good-brother.


    ¡°Doubtlessly, ye intend to flee like the faint-hearted coward that ye are,¡± He whispered to him, just before he loudly bade him to accept his gratitude for accepting this great quest.


    Insulted, and annoyed Gwilherm would never be able to tell from where, the surge of defiance and pride in him came from. He had long thought, his own courage long-since quashed yet he swore then a mighty oath, ¡°I will not return o sire until the foul beast is beaten back! This in spite of, the fact that no man other than one of royal descent, has ever accomplished such a feat as slaying a single dragon in all of North-Agenor¡¯s history!¡±


    His outburst earned him a startled look from the king, a horrified one from his sister and Aymon, and a bemused one from L¨¦on. With the people around them, nobles included cheering at these words which after a moment of bewilderment drew a shrug of indifference from ?thelwulf. Who might well have continued, the ceremony of bidding his good-brother good-fortune, were it not for his wife.


    ¡°Mercy once again sire!¡± She said to the irritation of brother and husband as she fell against her husband¡¯s knees, hugging them as she pleaded with him dirtying her fine white dress in the mud of the street as she did so.


    ¡°I must go sister, lest I be a coward as some have unfairly accused me and no other here present of,¡± Gwilherm complained stoutly with a tart look about him, to the rest of the embarrassed court. Once again, he had misbehaved himself, and was saved only by virtue of his status as kinsman to the king, who frowned deeply, aware also of the implied insult to his own honour, for refusing to have ever fought the ¡®Beast of Estria¡¯, with the king attempting to pull the queen back up to her feet.


    ¡°On your feet, wife! Set an example to our children, less you wish to humiliate them and yourself with such foolish behaviour¡± He hissed at her, full of rage which drew a compassionate, worried glance from her brother, who wished for nothing more than to spare her, any and all pains.


    ¡°Nay, for- none but knights and kings it is said can slay a dragon, or so it is writ in the Canticle of the Temple! In the book of Ziu to be precise,¡± She recited as her eyes fell upon the golden copy of the Canticle, the holy text of the Temple of Quirinas held by Chancellor Uhtred. The idea coming to her all of a sudden, as she flashed a victorious look at her king and husband who adopted a grim mien, aware as she was of the truth of her words.


    Still though, he would not be denied, as he shrugged once more in response, after grinding his teeth together, ¡°Then we shall simply knight him, and induct him into the companions of Aymon- As the first of all Brittian nobles to ever have the honour.¡±


    A dubious honour to say the least, or so everyone thought with a shared set of nervous glances. With the man in question by this time, beginning to have time to rethink his impulsiveness, as his departure was delayed once more, though now it was by Aymon. Who refused to knight him, or accept him into the brotherhood of companions he had by his side.


    ¡°Never!¡± Said he fiercely, his jaw set with more firmness than the rocks of the mountain which Balthrorth rested atop. ¡°To be a knight requires years of training, of spiritual experiences and of course at least a decade of squirehood!¡±


    That he would not knight Gwilherm, was just as others might have expected of the steely prince, who never was one for compromise. Especially on such matters as the law or of honour, this was why Aymon had few friends, even amongst those knights sent by ¨¦luan to serve him during his exile as retainers and followers. That he had the love of his cousin, was an accomplishment none could quite understand, for ¨¦luan was well-known for his cheerful mien.


    Looking to those about the prince for support, ?thelwulf need not have worried for if few of the knights liked to contradict their leader, L¨¦on lived for naught else. Stepping forth from the crowd of them, it was he who ordered Gwilherm to kneel even as he pressed a large muscular hand to his shoulder to force him down, saying cheerily as he did so. ¡°Do try to avoid enjoying this, good Gwilherm for I will knight you even if my brother won¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°L¨¦on, non!¡± Called Aymon furiously, unable to stomach such defiance from his kin, especially on a point of religion and ceremony, both which he held close to his heart, above all other things.


    ¡°Do you promise to share the enemies of your king, to defend him from all those who would do him harm? To preserve and defend holy-mother Temple and serve the gods in all things?¡± L¨¦on asked of him in the most solemn voice he could muster.


    Feeling that in some way, he was transfixed and in the midst of one of the single-most important moments of his life. It felt as though, he were bearing witness to something that was destined, to be of some great import.


    Kneeling there he hardly noticed the oaths sworn; only the terrible slap across his face that resounded throughout the immediate area and that drew a wince from all around him. His teeth rattled or so it seemed to him, as pain raced through him.


    ¡°Now that we resolved that, he can depart!¡± L¨¦on crowed cheerfully, stepping back to stand behind the king and his brother, Aymon both of whom shot him very different glances. One was grateful, where the other appeared positively murderous. Not that either bothered the ¡®silver-falcon¡¯ as he was known (for his white armour and family coat of arms which was a black-falcon).


    Defeated Elena¡¯s lower lip began to tremble, as her younger brother stood at her husband¡¯s signal, to embrace her then him with the king pressing a kiss to either side of the shorter man¡¯s face. A sign of kingly approval, these kisses of peace were to signal his purported affection for Gwilherm, who numbly accepted his words without thought.


    ¡°Now that ye are a knight and can now embark upon this great quest, without fail to rescue the fair lady-¡± At this time he turned to Uhtred with a scowl, ¡°What was her name?¡±


    ¡°The lady Elena- like our fair queen- but of Falsveal, milord,¡± the Chancellor supplied.


    This cause Gwilherm to freeze again, if for different reasons as he recognised the name of Falsveal, with a sense of rising disgust. He had known that part of the quest to slay Balthrorth might involve, rescuing a lady. Such was the tradition of dragon-slaying going back to Heracles when he slew M¨¢thrakkon the Black, to rescue Omphale, the Queen of Lykia and second of his wives. However, to rescue a Falsveal was unbearable, when he would much rather leave her to die given how her and her kin, were his enemies.


    ¡°Ah yes, the lady Elena of Falsveal,¡± Pronounced ?thelwulf as though nothing were the matter, ¡°And to accompany thee on thy noble quest, Vladin the Dwarf-¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± Screamed the Dwarf in question, attempting to fight his way free of the guards who bore him forward, ¡°I refuse! I don¡¯t wanna die!¡±


    Ignoring his protests, ?thelwulf went on ignoring also the confusion of the gathered commons who had previously believed this, to be a willing quest. Now they began to wonder, if this was simply an extension of the sacrifices all had made to Balthrorth, to appease him. Suddenly many became filled with unrest, and disquiet, as they did not much care for the proceedings now. ¡°-Brave Gwilherm, ye will be accompanied for part of thy journey by the noble knights Roparzh and Galen!¡±


    Neither knight looked particularly enthused either, with this particular duty, as they were volunteered for a duty that they were unlikely to return from. One was a young man, blond as Gwilherm was though considerably taller, and with a short beard also, though dressed more richly and with a magnificent scabbard on his waist, with gold-hilted sword at his side. He was green-eyed and otherwise friendly where Galen was dark, morose, almost as short as the Brittian and far more surly than he and had almost thirty years over him and Roparzh.


    Thus was the company of ¡®heroes¡¯ decided by ?thelwulf and ordered to set out that very day. The most marked thing that the cowardly Gwilherm later recalled was the misery on his sister¡¯s face, the indifference of his young nephews and the feeling of doom that loomed over his head.


    The King¡¯s hounds at this time, were all gathered outside of town, since the King wished to follow this ceremony up, by going out on a hunt to celebrate being free of the company of Gwilherm. The leashes of the canines were made of leather, with some thinner than others, notably that of Remus had by then weakened with it tied to his black leather collar. The dog strained, barked and yelped at the sight of the departing Gwilherm. His great love for the harpist such that he would not calm himself, leaping and shrieking, wherefore the houndsman yelled his name, pulled back on the leach (he held a dozen of them, as did the other four houndsmen). He raised his staff, one that was specially used on the hunting dogs of the King, with Remus rather more familiar with it than he would otherwise have preferred.


    What none had predicted when they had arisen that morn¡¯ when the dogs were taken out of the great hall and kennels, was for the leash tied to Remus that he had gnawed at almost everyday for near to six-months, to snap. No longer restrained, he bolted after his beloved friend, to the shouted rage of all those who gaped after him, the King included, yet the dog was not to be denied. In time he caught up to the heroes, with those chasing after him having long since abandoned the chase by then (for it was near to a half hour¡¯s chase after him by this time). If Gwilherm was ignorant of the danger that loomed over him, Remus knew not of the danger and glory that was to be his also.

 Chapter II: To the Road Tally-Ho!!!

    ¡°Why oh why, did the gods abandon me, in my greatest hour of need?¡± Vladin complained hiccupping and tottering on his pony, every bit as miserable as the knights were in regards to the journey. At this time of year, they wished to be at court, hunting and swaggering about with drinks in hand, and possibly a lady or two on each arm and not off east, on a quest that could well end in all their deaths. Sworn to risk their lives, neither however remained keen to defy a dragon, both men aware that the only dragon-slayer alive, was ¨¦luan the Golden-King.


    To turn back was unthinkable, this they knew as men of honour and in spite of how they had not been tasked with fighting the drake themselves, and they remained resolutely willing to do just that. Or so believed Gwilherm, who would have given anything the more they journeyed east, to simply turn back as his sister Elena had counselled he do before his departure.


    ¡°Turn back, flee, do anything save challenge Balthrorth, Gwilherm!¡± She had pleaded with him, gripping his shoulders, trembling as much as he had upon his departure.


    The shock of his quest still sent feelings of nausea and made his hands shake and quiver, until he could hardly hold the reins of the grey-steed he had been given, by Aymon. Who though, he had disapproved of his knighting, refused to allow him anything less than his own horse for this quest saying as he helped him onto it. ¡°You will have need of it, if you truly expect to challenge Balthrorth, sieur Gwilherm.¡±


    His gift of a mount was a kind one considering how he had always disdained him, since the younger man had fled during the battle in Cymru. If his offer was a kindly one, it was one that lacked any semblance of warmth or affection whereas L¨¦on at least offered him a sword and a slap upon the back.


    While he appreciated the warmth of the younger of the two princes, Gwilherm had little gratitude for his positive feelings, due to his unhappiness with the task given unto him. He was for all intents leaving to meet his executioner. This might have depressed any man, and certainly cast a pall over all four of the travelers. The only source of relief came from the barking Remus, who raced on ahead, before doubling back, only to take off to chase either a local animal or person, his great thin black tail waving about in the air behind him.


    As they traveled they rationed, what provisions they had, having to scare away Galen and Vladin from the rations, as both of them enjoyed their salted foods, which consisted of deer-meat hard bread and carrots. With the plan being to refill their bags, along the way at local estates of the king and monasteries, with Roparzh carrying on his person letters bearing the king¡¯s wolf-wyvern seal. Unable to read, just as the rest of them were he knew what they said though, thanks to the king having apparently dictated them in the knights¡¯ presence.


    The lands just north-east to Auldchester was covered by the farms, with the Auldwoods past the farms, with the old road, the Apia Rubrum or ¡®Red Road¡¯ as it was known in the Brittian tongue. It was said to have derived its name from the fact that it had been paved in blood that of the original inhabitant, upon the Romalians¡¯ conquest of the isle. With the original name being in the old Romalian language; which was now called the ¡®scholar¡¯s tongue¡¯ or ¡®monkish tongue¡¯, due to the fact that only those, raised in monasteries of the Temple still spake the language or could read or write in it.


    Hardly of peasant birth, as he was a lesser gentry-man from Estria, Gwilherm, had only learnt a few words here and there in it, and had never really been interested in learning more. It was simply not useful to his mind, not like knowing to ride a horse, battle and play a harp. This last one though, was the least useful of his skills, still though it had served him well when bartering for his life with ?thelwulf. A skill that no longer seemed that useful when he considered, the sorrow it had brought down upon him, especially now that he was no longer in one of the king¡¯s castles, his mood souring with every hour that passed.


    Every second that passed also filled him with melancholy, and dark feelings towards his companions. Sentiments that seemed shared by Galen and Vladin, the further along into the woods they trotted, with the latter two sinking into mumbling and glancing about themselves also. The woods were safe, unlike many in the north, where it was said that many of those Arns who had not fled with Arn¨®r across the sea to Fialin in ¨¦riu, after ?thelwulf had seized the north-east of Brittia.


    This was said to be where ?thelwulf¡¯s great-uncle, Eadwin had fled to, in order to resist the invading Grand Northern Army, which had come from Arnrige and the far northern lands across the Glacial Sea, which had briefly destroyed all the kingdoms of Brittia, Gewisse included. Whilst his elder brother fled to the fens, Eadwin had turned to the forests and fought against the Arns, from the forests alongside the common-folks and warriors who had fled there also. This he did until the great battle of Auldfields just north-west of Auldchester, where he led the left wing and died in the aftermath of the battle, in the arms of ?eelric.


    The bond of the brothers had become an important canon, in the collection of tales passed down from father to son, especially at the royal court. With ?thelwulf and his brothers, ?eelric ?thelred and Eadmund told those same tales it is said, throughout all their lives. And which was responsible, Gwilherm suspected for why the king¡¯s brothers had been sent to the Cymran and Norlion frontiers, with near regal powers.


    These forests were thus not as dark, or as nerve-racking to travel through as more distant ones were, despite the odd outlaw here and there in it. It stretched for miles, with the silence stretching for longer than the forest possibly could, doing so in all directions. All save Roparzh wished for this, as he whistled for a time only to with a glance, towards his sullen companions break into song with a shrug. A song that pleased Remus, who trotted about near his horse with nary a thought to danger, before he took off not unlike an arrow shot from a bow, into the middle of the forest. This was the last they saw of him for a time, until he came back with the bloodied carcass of a partridge. The song that overcame them one and all, was one that they had heard many a times, in days of yore by the fire, with a drink in hand after a hard day¡¯s fighting or work. It was part of the song of ?rgad the Tall, one of Gwilherm¡¯s ancestors, whom was one of the most valiant men to have ever lived, on the lordly-isle. Yet even he appreciated the great jest at the core of the song, and the good-humour that lay beneath the ditty.


    ¡°Tally-ho! Renwein a-shriek¡¯d for she be stolen from her boar,


    So unite must Hengist and he for war!


    To the tower they must go to tear away his door,


    Lo! Once ?rgad was a bore,


    Sally-ho! He is now more boar than boor!¡±¡±


    It was not long before Gwilherm had joined in, if unconsciously at first. It was not that he particularly enjoyed the song, but that he was so accustomed to singing alongside others that to not do so seemed impossible to him.


    ¡°There you are! Song will chase away all of our woes!¡± Roparzh cheered with visible relief, having apparently grown weary of the silence.


    ¡°Must there always be noise, or song to amuse you Roparzh?¡± Galen complained bitterly, his dark features darkening, as he cast an irritated glance towards his peer.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Replied the first man with a short laugh and a smile one that disappeared when he noticed just how annoyed, it made the Neustrian to his right. ¡°What is the matter Galen? Is it that you are leaving your wife and daughter, in Auldchester? Mayhap you could take them, on a tour of the countryside another time...¡±


    This cavalier reply frazzled not only the foreigner, but the Brittian who was for his own part as dumb-struck as the oldest of his companions by it. Neither could quite manage to rediscover their words, in order to put the man trotting along between them, in his proper place.


    Thankfully, the rather hung-over and still quite ill Vladin who appeared as though he might descend into tears was at hand, to assist them on this point or begin, raging against them. ¡°Could you lot keep silent, for a tad longer?¡±


    The misery in his voice, hardly moved a single one of the three, the knights feeling that his words felt as though a command, where the king¡¯s good-brother now buoyed by the song felt that it was for him to fall silent, with Roparzh retorting. ¡°Mayhap if you were to sing, your mood might improve itself Vladin.¡±


    ¡°Doubtful.¡± He grunted with a snort from Gwilherm, who earned himself the Dwarf¡¯s ire next, ¡°And what is so humorous Master Gwilherm? Were you not, every bit as miserable and as fearful as I of the dragon that, awaits you on Mt-Sorg? If so, why do you sing?¡±


    ¡°It is habitual I suspect,¡± Galen grumbled his stare returning to the forest that hung all about them.


    It was dark, with foliage that seemed to blot out the landscape past it, with the Red-Road stretching behind and ahead of them. The once perfectly paved marble route, had now in the past half a millennia since the Principate had fallen become cracked and broken in places. The roads once so carefully planned and paved, by the great Princeps Kadrianus the Ogre, begun in the fourth year of his reign had evidently eroded over the centuries. The Princeps may not have been the one to have originally conquered the isle for Roma, but it was he who took the most profound interest in the isle, in marked contrast to his predecessors. This trait of his had once Gwilherm suspected endeared the Ogre to the local legions, though in the subsequent era the Princeps¡¯ Ogrish nature had hardly done so. Though the scholars always spake highly of the formidable Romalian builder, evidently believing his reign as ruler of the known world, to have been an impressive and golden era.


    Whether it was as awe-inspiring as the reign of ¨¦luan over in Neustria, or Aemiliemagne during his brief Empire remained to be proven. It was doubtful though, he told himself, for in Gwilherm¡¯s mind, as he suspected that no heretic could build something as magnificent as a good and proper Quirinian believer. Even if in general the works of wonder that they had accomplished, had yet to measure up to those of the ancient state of Roma, a state that might well have been partly built by the gods, or so went certain ancient tales and songs.


    The road hardly registered in his mind, where it seemed to fascinate Vladin who eyed it speculatively; evidently he had hardly ever been outside of Auldchester. The idea of paved roads this far from the capital city, was a subject that might interest him, in spite of his ill-temperament and how he felt at present. His eyes remained upon it for some time, even after they had left the miles and miles of forests, in favour of countryside farmlands once more.


    There were hardly any towns or cities in this small corner of Brittia, the next town was Fyrdthorpe. A town that was upon one side (the southern one) of a branch of the river Rhiaulwyd that separated the lands of Morwyn from those of Rhiaulwynd, and that had been the scene of countless events in the long, long history of Brittia. It was said that it was near the mouth of the river, where the Dark Elves had once landed an army in the ancient days of the First Wars of Darkness. Wars that had lasted for thirty years, on the lordly-isle and that had seen unnumbered tragedies and victories, until at last all the tribes of the people south of the Lion River, had rallied behind Cormac Unicorn-Horned the most valiant ancient hero, to have ever lived. It is said that upon the defeat of the Dark Elves, Cormac had journeyed north of the Glacial Sea, to help those lands. Gwilherm did not know the rest of the tale, but he had heard that the valiant hero had fathered a kingdom, far to the east and died there fighting alongside the Dwarves in their great strongholds. This was the tale that many Brittians knew, and the same location that had seen the arrival of the Dark Elves, and the first massacres at their hands had likewise been the sight of the great victory, Cormac had won over the forces of evil.


    This bit of lore had always impressed and awed Gwilherm, especially when he and his elder sister had fled when they were nine and six from R¨¦alwaldr and across the river in question. ¡°You see,¡± his old nanny had told him, an elderly nun dedicated to the worship of the goddess Saga, the lady of history, as she held him on the horse carrying them to safety. ¡°This is both the place of greatest defeat, for three of the great wars of conquest that have come to Brittia¡¯s shores; the first was in the age of Darkness, the second to the Romalians and the third was in the last wars of Darkness. And all three times, we in time arose behind the banner of one lord or another, to chase them out and hound them into the Channel! This is the place of greatest shame and highest victories. So do not shed tears young Gwilherm, for the next time you come to cross this river, it will be in triumph!¡±


    Her words seemed so distant, so na?ve now. Old seventy year old Hilda had passed away ten years ago, with Elena holding her hand and weeping, brokenly before her. Whilst Gwilherm had stood numb, and struck dumb so that he did not utter a word for a month, until he was kicked physically for not singing by one of the king¡¯s men.


    This was hardly the glorious, and highly triumphant return of which Hilda had spake almost twenty years prior, thought the legitimate heir of the R¨¦alwaldr family. His grief for her, returning afresh as though she were his actual grandmother, rather than a lady hired to care for and educate him and his sister, on behalf of his father. Who he but remembered dimly, in comparison to the shining and near gargantuan figure, of his brother, noble Eadwin. A man he still dreamt of when he slumbered, and whom he could hardly compare with despite the fact that he had gone up, to face the terrible drake only to never return.


    ¡°We shall camp near here, I wish for but a few minutes to stretch my legs, for they are cramping.¡± Roparzh decided with a sniff, visibly pleased with the sea air that permeated the region near the river. As he spoke he leapt down from his horse¡¯s back only to kneel and stand back up, stretching and shaking his legs as he did so. Only to burst out when Remus made his sudden arrival, only to drop a bloody partridge at his feet when he descended to stretch his legs after hours on horse-back, ¡°Ugh, what are you doing you filthy dog?¡±


    The only wagged his tail in response, and smiled only to glance up at Gwilherm, as though in search of approval from him. Much as he was displeased by the idea of the carcass being anywhere near him, he could not resist patting the dog on the head and praising him. It came so naturally whenever he saw those big browns glance up at him, a toothy grin of his own threatening to burst despise his lack of desire for it. They soon climbed back up onto their horses after picking up the dead-bird to put it away in one of their many satchels, this caused the half-wild dog to tear off down the path once more. This was not the end of the subject of where they were to stay, as stubborn old Galen complained, rather more loudly than they would have otherwise preferred.


    ¡°Why do you get to decide where we stay, for the night?¡± Galen demanded of him, as always the one who had to question all that they did.


    ¡°Simple; because you intend to sulk, and I am the only one present who is not ill from too much drinking,¡± the blonder of the two knights argued back, with more than a hint of anger in his own voice. Usually a genial man, it appeared that the foul mood of his comrade had resulted in his mood souring a little more than what any of them had otherwise expected.


    Not exactly familiar with either man personally, especially as he tended to be relegated to eating with lesser nobles, and the huscarls. Where they tended to be given a separate table with L¨¦on and the mercenaries, under the infrequent employ of ?thelwulf, with Gwilherm having always preferred to keep his distance, out of genuine fear of the knights technically sworn not to his liege-lord, but to ¨¦luan, and thus who had little formal loyalty to their Brittian comrades-in-arms.


    For this reason, he was not anymore familiar with them, than Vladin was. The Dwarf for his own part shrugged in response, to his questioning stare as weary as he was after almost twelve hours of travel on horseback and pony-back. This after days of trotting along through the forest of Auldwoods, days which had been spent with nary a fire to cook their food upon, as Roparzh was highly suspicious that there might be brigands hiding about there. This against the wishes of Galen and Vladin, who had both hoped to also hunt down a deer and eat it, with the other knight stopping them. Only for him to permit them, to drink their sorrows away with the large flagons of beer that they had brought with them, for beer was better for drinking than water. Drink that tended to be dirty and rarely conducive, for the betterment of the health of the men of Brittia, with both men eagerly partaking of their rationed alcohol, much to the disapproval and irritation of their two travel-companions. One because he had hoped to ration it, the other because they soon began to sing and laugh so loudly that all within the area was unlikely to not have heard their drunken cheers and songs.


    The woods opened up to the outside world, as said as a door might to the courtyard that led the way to the stony-interior. With the river in the distant a gem upon the earth, with Gwilherm feeling tears of sorrow come to his eyes, at the thought that Hilda had never lost faith, yet she was not alive to witness his portentous return journey homeward.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡®If only, she could have lived to see this day, though it might be for the best given how crushed she might truly be given my inevitable failure.¡¯ He thought to himself, as he opened his mouth to speak to his companions only to shut his mouth and for a question to escape his lips instead. ¡°Where shall we stay for the night?¡±


    ¡°Mayhap in one of the nearby farm-houses,¡± Galen said without too much interest.


    ¡°I would not stay in any of these homes, for all the gold in the world,¡± Vladin grunted disdainfully, with a hint of scorn one that won him, the curiosity of his travel-mates.


    ¡°Why is that?¡± Gwilherm inquired, bewildered by the caution and fear that were intermingled in the voice and upon the bearded-face of the Dwarf who rode to the right of Roparzh.


    ¡°Because these people, are said to be little better than the bandits who always haunt the woods,¡± The Dwarf grumbled into his grey beard, shaking his head at them. ¡°I repeat, we must not entrust ourselves to these terrible people.¡±


    ¡°How could you possibly know what you claim, to know?¡± Roparzh queried in a tone that made him sound suddenly akin, to his peer. A challenge in his voice, as he raised a brow at the shortest member of their company of travellers, who now shared tart looks, each and every one of them shaken by his dark murmurings.


    ¡°I pay attention to those merchants, who cross into Auldchester, by the Winged-Pig tavern near where the port is.¡± Vladin informed him, with another dark eye across the suns swept fields that lay before them, looking every bit as inviting as a tasty morsel of meat.


    His words might not have worried either of his traveling companions, and most certainly did Gwilherm with the Estrian keen to demonstrate, his courage by snorting also. He huffed at his old friend for his statement, as he doubted the murmurings and complaints of those from the Rhiaulwyd region. Those particular merchants had a tendency to complain, about almost anything and everything ranging from tariff-fees, to their wives, to the lack of safe travel across the Channel to Norl¨¦ans.


    Merchants were an incredibly fickle lot; to Gwilherm¡¯s mind and ones that he hardly had much patience for, preferring the company of artisans and fellow warriors, this in spite of the fact that most warriors were not exactly charmed by him.


    ¡°What do those merchants know?¡± He grumbled haughtily, earning for himself a nasty scowl from the Dwarf.


    ¡°A little respect, for the most well-traveled men of the realm Gwilherm,¡± He remonstrated him, adding for good measure, ¡°If I wished for ?thelwulf¡¯s views on them, I would have addressed my statement solely to Galen¡­ or returned for Auldchester, to ask the fool himself.¡±


    ¡°Mind your words, Dwarf, for he is still your king,¡± Roparzh warned gently, with an exasperated sigh that drew another frown from both the Estrian and the non-human.


    Both of them fell silent as Galen complained endlessly, about Vladin treating him as unable to conjure hither his own thoughts and words. It was a testament, to just how poorly they thought of him that they ignored him. Days of travel having long since, worn at their patience towards him (as well as one another!), with the Dwarf in time as they traveled past one warm inviting hut or wooden-house made from local oak and timber, after another beginning to look as though he were reconsidering his earlier pronouncements against staying amongst the locals.


    The weather above their heads became increasingly clouded to the consternation of all of them involved so that they began to murmur amongst themselves, about it. The moment he felt a few raindrops, patter against his cloak, and wet a few of the strands of hair on the top of his head, a part of him refused to there and then continue traveling for the day.


    ¡°I say we stay in that house!¡± He decided turning his pony about, resolutely setting forth for one of the houses with a barn next to it, which sat by the road.


    The house was no more inviting than the rest around it, especially when one considered how warm some of the others appeared in comparison to it. The decision was based almost entirely in the fact that the royal-harpist had not spent a day outside in the rain, in quite some time. This meant that he was ill-accustomed to living more rudely in some ways, as he was one of the more blessed members of the court, by virtue of his ability with songs and music.


    Exasperated, Galen complained loudly, ¡°I am certain that there is a temple somewhere further ahead, a little patience might serve you well, ¡®Sieur¡¯ Gwilherm!¡±


    The sarcastic manner, in which he uttered the word ¡®sieur¡¯ in his native Neustrian, left Gwilherm feeling cold. It also made him feel as though he were little more than a particularly stupid infant, and served only to embitter him against his traveling companion who for his own part earned for himself a similar reaction, from Roparzh.


    ¡°You truly do not see the irony, between your earlier request to stop for the night and Gwilherm¡¯s desire to do so?¡± He asked laconically of his old comrade in arms, who scowled back at him with such disgust that a lesser man might have shrunk back. But not one as battle-hardened or wise as the younger knight was.


    Quite how the older man had made it to such an advanced age as his fifties, without having garnered over that time the necessary wisdom, to survive was beyond his younger traveling companion. For there never failed to be a moment, where he did not wish to strike Galen with all of his strength.


    The house they chose was a well-put together one with a farmer who poked his head out upon the first shout by Gwilherm, only to take him up in one sweeping, nervous glance. Unfortunately for all involved, he had no shelter to offer simply pointing down the road, to some point on the horizon. ¡°I have naught to offer thee for comfort, my apologies my lords but we have nary enough food to feed ourselves in the days to come! Might I suggest that, ye stay at the local temple of Fufluns it is shabby and with but one druid but he is a hospitable man of considerable generosity.¡±


    The three more impatient members of their band, might have liked to hassle the farmer, Gwilherm included (much to his shame later, when he had had more time to think about his behaviour), but thankfully Roparzh intervened out of pity for the peasant. ¡°Wait my friends, I can see the place he points to, if we gallop it should be but a few minutes away, therefore let us be away from here.¡± Once he saw that they were after a bit more cajoling, prepared to cease their harassment of the defenceless plebeian and fully prepared, to gallop slightly farther north, he thanked the man. Who for his own part, frightened by the four heavily armed men, withdrew his head back into his hut, and would have no more words with them.


    This might have led them to delaying a bit longer, if only to scream and holler after the poor peasant, and to resort to some form of physical violence or other, were it not for Roparzh. Who encouraged them to continue along on the journey, his eyes ever on the horizon rather than upon past squabbles, being the highest-minded of all of them, with the four of them treading hither through the rain, each of them more miserable than the last.


    Or so Gwilherm told himself, as he journeyed through the miserable shadows, wishing for fresh cheese rather than moulded cheese, for venison and beer. His thirst and hunger made all the worst, by his forlorn awareness that he had fallen far, from his previous noble station. If only, he told himself every few seconds that he had kept his mouth closed, rather than taunted ?thelwulf. Cursing his own ill-luck, as well he trailed after the others, eyes upon the soaked ground as his mood descended, into the dark netherworld where it was said that Orcus resided. It was also said that Ziu did also, though only at times with the war-god living in the underworld amongst all the great heroes of history, who lived in his great-halls and were catered after and fed by his servants. With his half-sisters and female servants going out to select the finest of the heroes to join him there, with heroes such as Aemiliemagne and his Paladins certainly there, and with Gwilherm¡¯s older brother Eadwin, .certainly there he told himself.


    The trouble was that, he was himself destined to never see the older man again. Not if he had truly gone down to the Morhallion, as Gwilherm had certainly forfeited that right. What might his ancestors think, he wondered to himself, of his cowardice and of the manner in which he was living? Hardly a lord, he was more akin to a pauper than any true respectable gentleman.


    These dark thoughts plagued him, far worse than the sneezes and cold that began to send his body aquiver, as he was positively wet to the bone. Miserable, whilst Vladin pounded upon the door with the eager support of Roparzh, he glanced about the small temple. It lacked any encircling walls, which was something that made him uneasy. As all knew that most temples in this area, had to have an encircling wall, as who knew if or when Norsemen might strike from the river barely a mile away from where they stood. The wooden building was nine meters high, and at least three times that length and twelve meters wide.


    Atop the building, was the symbol of Fufluns of an ash tree, one that had been carved into the highest point of the temple¡¯s singular tower, an image that all of them were well accustomed to. The temples of Fufluns decorated the whole of the countryside of each and every single one of the baronies and counties, of the kingdom. The most popular god along with Turan, the goddess of love and marriage it was only through Fufluns that the crops were said to be able to grow. With the plant-god, said to be the only god who could temper Tempestas¡¯s rainstorms, less she might wash away the whole of the lordly-isle out of simple thoughtlessness.


    Whilst the knights and Dwarf were fixated upon the door of the temple, Remus who had raced along closely to them throughout their journey, and never failed in his cheery mien, let slip a whine. Trembling behind Gwilherm, he whined and yelped from behind the newly knight Brittian, who glanced at him a little surprised. Ordinarily a large dog, with an eternally gay spirit, to find him shaking and crying, from fright was a truly bewildering experience.


    ¡°Wait, shhhh um, I think that Remus has taken a dislike to this place-¡± Gwilherm began anxiously, feeling some of the dog¡¯s own nervousness begin to bleed into him. His hesitance though was ignored as Galen shushed him, only to glower furiously as he chewed upon his lower lip.


    ¡°Hail, high-brother let us in! I beg of you!¡± Vladin begged by now, his previous concerns regarding the locals long since forgotten, due entirely to the storm that poured down upon them. Doing so with enough force, to make even the strongest of knees buckle, beneath its weight let alone those of the Dwarf, who had also forgotten his pony, whose reins were handed over to the harpist, in as dismissive a manner as was humanly possible.


    Taking the horses to the stable, which was a shoddy rundown collection of wood barely nailed together to the left side of the temple. Gwilherm left the four of them, tied to the back of the stable; where there was strangely fresh if wet hay already in place there. Confused by this discovery, he told himself that though there were no other horses, it was likely that the local druid simply took proper care of his stable, in case of the arrival of weary travelers. What truly gave him pause though, was the sight of lights inside of the temple something which he noticed, from a brief glance inside via one of the openings that acted as a makeshift window of sorts for the building. So fixated upon the peculiar blue lights inside of the building was he that he hardly heard Remus barking and whining next to him, the dog having followed him all the way to the stables.


    The lights seemed faint and barely made the interior of the building at all visible, as he glanced briefly inside, in passing. Hardly curious, he could hardly see into the temple, and this annoyed him as he determined to light several more once inside. One for each of his sister¡¯s sons, in prayer for them, as much as for his own comfort, the thought shaken from him as he sneezed uncontrollably for a moment, returning to find his companions missing he scowled to himself.


    ¡®Oh great, they have all gone inside, leaving me here to rot in the rain,¡¯ He thought morosely to himself, as furious now as he was soaked, the dog next to him sneezed also, and shot him an irritated look. One that made him feel a little bad for the poor dog, who glanced at the stables, then at him with a significant glance, one that he shook his head at. ¡°It will hardly offer any cover, we must go inside, at least there will be a fire there to warm us.¡±


    No longer eager to enter simply for the sake of satisfying his passing curiosity, about why the druid had failed to properly light enough candles inside, but for the sake of warming himself, Gwilherm giving no thought to the proper order of things and politeness, simply threw open the door. In previous days he might have worried more about his dignity and propriety, but as the saying goes ¡®storms make desperate men of once polite ones¡¯.


    Calling out to his traveling companions, as he entered into the temple, his voice echoing a little as it bounced off the walls of the temple, in a manner that was rather reminiscent of the rain as it fell off the roof of the temple onto the ground below. It was as though the very walls and candles heard him, with the lights that had seemed to float up from some deep crevice or corner when he last glanced inside, by the stables, lit up all of a sudden.


    Frightened, Gwilherm did not know where to look or what to think. In the light cast off by the newly lit candles that bedecked the wooden columns of the building which had a low ceiling (for a temple) that reached thrice the height of the Brittian, the altar was visible at the end of the short hall that was the principal room of the building. Doubtlessly, the others were already seated and by a warm fire with mulled wine in hand, in the druid¡¯s chambers, he thought to himself resentfully despite his fear.


    The light he had mistaken for almost being blue when he stood outside, was a warm red and yellow though it did not seem as warm as he had the nervous impression that, some of them did not sit on small jutting pedestals, or that the torches that lined the actual walls were seated either. Quite to the contrary, for a few minutes it seemed to his untrained and rather tired eye, as though the candles and torches simply floated of their own volition in the air.


    It had to be his imagination, he told himself it simply had to be, for all knew that candles and torches did not simply float up by themselves. Not without some sort of devilry and he was fairly certain that there were no devils or sorcerers, who would or could, dare to step into a temple. Most especially, as such sights were holy in the eyes of the gods with this one being so in the eyes of likely more than one, given the manner in which both Fufluns and Tempestas worked.


    Stepping thither to the altar to stare at the small statue atop it of the god of the harvest, who was carved from ashen wood with what appeared to be a tree in one hand and flowers growing from his feet. The mastery of the carver gave the flowers the appearance, of truly growing from the god¡¯s feet despite them being carved from the same hunk of wood.


    Amazed by this, as it was completely at odds with the rest of the building¡¯s fairly uncouth appearance and the lack of true sophistication about the manner in which the columns were cut. Even the ceiling had a unrefined look to it, with the floor mud-splattered for its own part, as to the altar it was all but simply a large slab of wood. One that was as unappealing in how it was cut, as the green cloth cast over it was pretty despite being made from rough local wool. Lacking the beauty and grace of the wool from Noren?ia, which had a refined and skilled air about it, as those cloth-merchants had a tendency to favour beauty above almost all other virtues in the cloth they wove.


    In all the shabby appearance was as close to home as he was going to get, given the circumstances not that this thought did much more than merit a shrug from him. He was too tired, cold and hungry to truly care about appearances or the idea of facing a dragon as that danger still seemed far-off for him. Behind him, Remus barked furiously from where he sat by the entrance, an air of terror about him that Gwilherm hardly noticed, so distracted was he by the decrepit air and frustration with the lack of warmth provided by all the candles.


    ¡°Where did those fools fly to in such a hurry? If they simply sent me away, to keep more of the soup and wine to themselves, I shall have to see to it that I spit in the next meal they ask of me.¡± Gwilherm growled working himself into a fury as he at last tore away his gaze from the altar before him in order to head for the secondary source of light in the hall; the closed door at the back of the building.


    The faint glow of torch-light was visible through the bottom crack of the door, this along with the sound of voices echoing from farther inside. Confused and befuddled by weariness, Gwilherm should have taken more precautions than what he had, with the warrior opening the door rather than simply listening in. As things were though, he once again did not comport himself with the wisdom he would later, in this tale.


    Opening the door he called out in a clear, ringing voice just as he heard three of them squabbling from down the hallway which the door opened up to. ¡°Hullo! Roparzh, Galen, Vladin! You lot better not be keeping all the cheese, soup and wine to yourselves! I daresay I have earned my own share, of today¡¯s meals!¡±


    ¡°Really now, Ealhstan ye worry too much!¡± A female voice was hissing at someone called Ealhstan, with her voice as raspy as it was unpleasant to listen to. It rather recalled the scratching of one¡¯s nails upon a piece of metal of some sort, so disagreeable was it.


    ¡°I assure you, lady Wulfrun that I most certainly did hear them claim that they had another companion, a ¡®Gwilherm¡¯ if you will,¡± Ealhstan insisted stubbornly, from just around the corner with the noble¡¯s ears perking a little at the sound of his name.


    Certain now that they spoke of his companions, Gwilherm turned the corner in a hurry to find another door, this one even thinner in appearance than the last, as the wood appeared to have rotted almost entirely through. Hardly bemused by this apparent neglect of clerical property, on the part of the locals, with the pious youth grumbling that he would never allowed for such a thing.


    ¡°Quiet both of ye, I think I hear someone,¡± A third voice grunted at the other two in a brutish voice- one that made Gwilherm pause and rethink his advance through the hallway towards the door at last.


    ¡°Oh stop imagining things again Ceolmund-¡± Wulfrun started up again, only for her to be interrupted by Ealhstan.


    ¡°No, wait I heard it also,¡± Ealhstan cried out, with this the only warning that the good-brother of King ?thelwulf received before the door burst open, with Vladin crying out to him to ¡®fly you fool! Fly fool!¡¯ and he was beset by Ealhstan and Ceolmund. However by this time, the temple had begun to be filled with a great many lights as the candles floated along past the hero, only to float upwards, so that it appeared as though the ceiling were covered in stars up above his head, amazed by this sight Gwilherm gaped up at them. Hardly noticing the sudden arrival of Ceolmund until it was too late. Later he learnt that this was Eahlstan¡¯s work, as the old man had enchanted all those who entered into the temple to see dancing-candles and flames, so as to distract them from fleeing. Quite why, was also discovered later, after his capture much to his humiliation and fury.


    The latter of whom was a large brutish man with dark hair and eyes, a fat belly that protruded out from in front of him, flabby arms and at least two inches taller than Gwilherm. Dressed in a dark tunic and hose, he was a terrible figure to behold and had Gwilherm well in hand, and kicked in the stomach long before he could properly react in time. Knocked off his feet, so terrible did the older man smite him that he was bound, and soon dragged before haggard, hideous old Wulfrun before he could regain his sense properly.


    A hideous old woman with boils and warts not just on her nose but all over her face, she had thinning white hair, a short four-foot ten build and was fatter than Ceolmund if that was possible. Scowling down at him with beady eyes, she remarked with a mouth that was missing half of its yellow rotted teeth, her hands on her hips that like the rest of her was covered by a ragged old brown heavily stained dress as worn as she was that fell well below her knees. ¡°Well ain¡¯t ye a pretty one, tie ¡®em up and leave ¡®em with the rest! We will cook ¡®em tomorrow we ¡®ill! HAHA!¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Gwilherm shrieked in terror at the thought of being eaten alive, just as the man behind him heaved him up onto his feet, to start dragging him towards the cage in the left-hand corner of the large room they were in. Suddenly, he wished he were back in the rain-swept cold, rather than in the cold, wooden well-roofed temple, as he had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that, he had made the most foolish (of many) mistake of his life by coming hither to this temple!


    As to Remus, he had already escaped as enchantments hardly work upon animals, with the dog slipping out through the crack in one of the walls, the doors having been closed by Gwilherm. Doing so late into the night, he had been unable to follow the hero of our tale, by virtue of the man also closing the door to the one hallway past the hallway behind him. The dog escaped to follow after the bungling enchanters trailing after them for a time. Their one great hope for freedom.

 Chapter 3: The Leap from Light into Darkness

    The three of them were kept in cages that hung from the decrepit ceiling which as they soon discovered was hardly as well-put together as it seemed to be at first sight. All that they had seen inside of the temple was an illusion that though not grand, certainly seemed so in comparison to the ruin they bore witness to, once Ealhstan had gone to sleep for the night. The temple room they were kept in, to the back of the temple had a moth-eaten set of tables and beds, with only Wulfrun sleeping in the same room out of suspicion of them.


    ¡°I do not trust them, ¡®far as I can toss ¡®em, not with the two accented ones threatening me both with eyes and words!¡± She howled pointing a nail-broken finger that happened to be her middle claw, as her index one Gwilherm suddenly noticed, was little more than a stump. It had been bitten or cut off long ago, much to his consternation, with the old hag glowering furiously at the knights who were disarmed and scowling themselves.


    Still wondering how exactly he had been caught, the warrior kept in a cage barely larger than him, with his legs hanging from between the bars, the walls of the room missing in places he observed, and the floor to his disgust covered by rodent dung and small animal corpses. Not wishing to touch them, he attempted with some difficulty and at much pain pulled his legs back into the cage from between the bars.


    ¡°Not so smug and high now, are ye?¡± Ceolmund belched as he leered at them before he departed for his own bed, in another room.


    At the time, too stunned to truly hear the response from his companions, Gwilherm fell asleep in his cage and was awoken by the light of the two suns rising in the heavens. Noticing him awakening and his hiss of pain when he attempted to pull in his knees into the cell, only to knock them against the aforementioned bars, Galen saluted him with a sneer. ¡°Awake at last are you? How you could sleep in such a place, is beyond me.¡±


    Wrinkling his nose at the stench, the warrior having noticed the stench the night prior only for him to fail to see Vladin, as the knights were in front of him and to the right of him was Wulfrun snoring on her bed of straw. ¡°How are we to escape? And where is Vladin?¡±


    ¡°Here,¡± The Dwarf piped up from behind him, the Brittian jumped a little only to whip about, to find his short-friend in a tiny cage that made his own appear to be a palace. Forced to tuck up his legs up to his chin, so small and tightly woven together were the bars that he could barely fit a hand or leg between them. ¡°The blasted witch and her minions, preferred to throw me in here.¡±


    Resisting a wince of sympathy for him, with the knights scowling at the witch as they began to discuss plans at once, to escape with it being Galen who took command of the situation, ¡°We must now see to having you hand that stick near your cell over to Roparzh.¡±


    Pointing to a nearby staff near the cage of the Brittian, the staff barely a meter long, was some distance from his cage and necessitating him reaching out with one leg to pull it towards him. It was covered in dung and with a series of rat-corpses that made him shiver in disgust, as he stretched out one hand in an attempt to take it his fingers brushing the corpses and fly infested dung on the ground. Only for him to be overwhelmed by disgust withdraw his hand instinctively.


    ¡°What have you done Gwilherm, get back to it! What¡¯s a little dung or rodent corpses, if it means freedom?¡± Vladin called out to him, in frustration with the human shooting him an annoyed look only to stretch out his leg towards the piece of wood.


    This did not work either, wherefore he attempted to reach it by stretching himself even further. When this failed also, Gwilherm strained even more until he was pressed completely and rather uncomfortably against the bars, almost straddling them as his leg screamed in pain. He wished at that moment that just one of his companions had thought to perhaps, assist him in his endeavors. Instead they offered up faint encouragement and cheers, or at times jeers when they saw him pull back panting and hissing in pain. None of them, having very much patience, for his sorrows or his difficulties with the rusty iron bars of the cell so that in time the Brittian let loose a small prayer to the gods and the stick, for them to assist him in pulling it over.


    He grazed the edge of it with the tip of the toe of his booted foot. Excited, he prayed once more, just as Roparzh and Galen did much the same, with the former whispering to him. ¡°By Ziu you are doing it Gwilherm, keep going!¡±


    ¡°Oui, victory is almost ours Guilh¨¨m!¡± Galen agreed supportively, for what was the first time.


    Though he did not understand very much of the language, the brother of the Queen smiled in spite of his gritted teeth and himself. Pleased, to have at last earned old Galen¡¯s approval and determined to retain and win some more, he pulled the stick over centimeter by centimeter. A short cheer that he instantly regretted escaping his lips, as he clasped his hands over his mouth just as the Dwarf behind him groaned, out an ¡®imbecile!¡¯ Yet to his relief Wulfrun rolled over in her slumber in place of awakening.


    The young man glanced over at his Neustrian friends, who gave him curt nods after exchanging a worried glance between them, with the Brittian returning to the task of pulling over the stick side-over-side through the wreckage of rodent corpses and dung.


    ¡°At last!¡± He uttered excitedly as he could at long last reach it. This pleased his traveling companions, who gave quiet cheers as he pulled the stick over to him wrinkling his nose as he lifted it gingerly in one hand. Holding it out to Roparzh, he was treated to the sight of the knight straining now to reach betwixt the bars, to grasp the stick now himself.


    ¡°Just- just a little more Gwilherm!¡± He called out to him, encouragingly his dark bearded face reddening with the strain, as his beard and hair glistened with sweat.


    For some time, they strained between their bars- one to give over the stick the other to seize it. It was their only hope of reaching the keys that sat upon the half-rotted table by Wulfrun¡¯s sodden straw bed. A hope that proved every bit as delicate as most hopes and dreams are.


    A single snort from the door made Gwilherm near drop the stick and pulled a vicious curse from Roparzh, just as the door swung open, and Ceolmund¡¯s voice reverberated throughout the room. ¡°Oye what are ye lot doin¡¯ there, stick in hand?¡±


    The displeasure in his voice made all four of the prisoners jump, and Gwilherm drop the stick instinctively not that this stalled the fury of the brute. Picking up a nearby stick he gave a mighty swing at one of the warrior¡¯s legs, one that made him shriek in pain though the limb did not break. Satisfied with this blow Ceolmund gave a nod of approval at this gesture, before he glanced disapprovingly towards Roparzh who stiffened, withdrawing his hand in preparation to receive a blow also.


    But the brute was saved from his mistake by the enchantress, as Wulfrun awoke then with a great cry of displeasure, ¡°Ceolmund miserable stain on Brigantia¡¯s great arse what are you doin¡¯?!¡±


    ¡°Nuthin¡¯ just makin¡¯ certain the prisoners dunna escape!¡± The fat thug objected pointing accusingly at Roparzh, in a manner akin to a child caught with their hand on their mother¡¯s pie.


    ¡°It did not appear that way to me, Ceolmund,¡± Ealhstan commented as he stepped hither from the shadows of the corner opposite of the straw-bed of the enchantress.


    ¡°Yea well what do ye know, enchanter?!¡± The larger man snarled at him, not that this bothered the enchanter who simply shrugged in response.


    ¡°Might we not get them ready for transport, to the Lundiniam market across the Rhiaulwyd?¡± The robed man replied, tugging at his forked beard as he raised a single silver brow at the dark-haired man who growled back at him.


    Whilst the other two fussed and complained loudly, and proceeded to work the unwilling prisoners into the caged-caravan that was to be pulled by the knights¡¯ own horses, Ealhstan came to stand by the side of the cage with a placid smile on his wizened old face. Wherefore he whispered to Gwilherm as he was chained and thrown into the cage after his friends with the cage door sealed shut behind them. ¡°Patience, all things come to those who wait lad, though hmmm you do seem different, I daresay there is more than meets the eye to thee.¡±


    So ill was he of the shabby treatment he had received thus far that Gwilherm shot back, with all the dignity and outrage that he could muster not caring to whisper as he growled back at the old man. ¡°I am Gwilherm, son of Aidros and brother of Eadwin of R¨¦alwaldr brother of Queen Elena, and first Harpist of the royal court. Such treatment shall be repaid, in kind by my good-brother King ?thelwulf!¡±


    Amusement and surprise climbed up onto Ealhstan¡¯s face, as a glint entered now into his eyes, as he studied the younger man with newfound interest.


    This interest was to demonstrate itself in a variety of ways in the days to come, as it was he who proceeded to approach the young man to converse with him once they were on the road. Thanks to him the prisoners learnt that this hideous trio were in fact slavers and slave-traders, who sold men and women into bondage yes, but not just to Brittians, but to Neustrian and Norse traders.


    *****


    As the locals had ceased aiding them, having once enjoyed helping them in their endeavours as the prisoners soon discovered when they reached the only wooden bridge across the river Rhiaulwyd where a toll-guard stood.


    An officer in the service of a local baron, one slightly farther north of the river who was familiar with the guard at the other end of the wooden-bridge calling them to a halt with a sneer, ¡°Stop the lot of ye, ye must pay the toll if ye so wishes to cross this ¡®ere bridge.¡±


    ¡°Oh come off it Ealdor, you know us!¡± Wulfrun complained viciously, ¡°You must let us across; we paid twice the toll last time-¡±


    ¡°That was to cross with two caravans, as ye had more slaves to carry to the market therefore it was only natural ye pay for both of the caravans. Besides that was almost a year ago, stinking hag.¡± Ealdor snorted irreverently as he sneered at them. A tall dark-haired and long-bearded man, dressed in leather armour and in a simple dark hose with dark boots, he had stopped them just shy of the bridge by standing before it with a scowl on his long face.


    In all he was the sort that Gwilherm would have preferred to not cross and felt certain that he might well have lost more than one limb, attempting to hack at the man. He could see from the corner of his eyes, Galen and Roparzh sizing him up and whispering between them about what to do. A conversation that seemed to rapidly become an argument as they apparently could not agree about how to proceed, whilst Vladin remained slumped in the back-left corner of the iron caravan. As crushed as ever by how they had been captured, his spirit as broken it seemed to Gwilherm as Elena¡¯s had been at his departure on this ridiculous quest.


    Local tolls on bridges were natural things; however they were supposed to be done in the King¡¯s name and not that of local barons. So that the baron of castle Norwyd-keep just north-east of the river (and to the north-west of Lundiniam) was misappropriating funds that belonged by right to the King, his liege-lord. This was also a rather large infraction of the law, one that Gwilherm knew to be the sort of thing that was very likely to send ?thelwulf into a frenzy of rage. One that could last for days, before the apoplectic monarch sends for his banners and marches upon the offending vassal, to not only siege but destroy the castle, bridge and all life in the local area.


    ¡°Help us! We are agents of the King, sent north to investigate the lands north of the Waldr-river, and have been captured by these knaves, and thus require your noble assistance!¡± Gwilherm cried out gripping the bars and pressing his face to them, as he stared at the guard, interrupting the man¡¯s squabbling with Wulfrun and Ceolmund.


    Both of them turned to stare at him, mouths agape for a second as fury gripped them and filled the two brigands with malice towards the good-brother of ?thelwulf, such that they ever after bore a special hatred for him. The hag for her part shrieked at him, ¡°Back from the bars filthy liar!¡±


    ¡°¡®Fore I beat you,¡± Ceolmund added hefting  his club a little with a small little grin, evidently pleased at the notion that he might dispense, some of the fury he felt towards Ealdor.


    The only one who appeared at all bemused, rather than indignant at his calling out to the guard, was Ealhstan who for his own part merely shrugged in response to the rather pitiable sight of the prisoner begging for assistance. The expression of the knights was one of the utmost fury. Notably from Galen, but this was not what startled Elena¡¯s younger brother as Roparzh was glaring foul murder at him. Ordinarily a friendly, he was an easily bemused sort of man who had a natural ability to make friends with about every individual he came across, Gwilherm had never in all the years he had met the man seen him demonstrate anger even once. Not even in the heat of battle, when a Cymran had come close to cutting the man¡¯s nose clean from his face had he ever demonstrated such anger.


    Anxious now, Gwilherm hesitated now distracted by the unexpected scowl on his face, he did not foresee Ceolmund slamming his club lightly upon the bars with a grimace of his own. Pain shot up from the noble¡¯s fingers as he winced, let out a whine and shook his hands with a curse. ¡°Back ye!¡±


    ¡°No less than you deserve,¡± Galen grunted at him meanly, drawing a nod from Roparzh, ¡°Have some dignity now that you are a knight, Gwilherm.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I dunna much care where ye were found fool, so long as the toll is paid,¡± Ealdor said with a shrug of his own entirely indifferent towards the fate of the warriors. This stunned and horrified the three with all of them gaping at him. It was his duty to liberate them and he intended to simply look the other way? It was an outrage, Gwilherm thundered deep within his soul! ¡°Now pay up, it will be twenty silver wyverns.¡±


    ¡°Twenty?! But it was ten, the last time!¡± Ealhstan squawked at him, with even the captives bewildered by the cost of the tariff-price inflicted upon the slavers.


    ¡°Well if you shan¡¯t pay it, mayhap it is time to turn back now-¡± Roparzh began sardonically to the irritation of Ceolmund who threw him a warning look.


    For several minutes Wulfrun mulled the situation over before she at last sighed, reached down to grab a small pouch from her leather belt that clinked loudly in the early morning air. Opening it, whilst muttering to herself as she counted the individual coins before nodding several times to herself and tossing the pouch at him.


    He nodded to himself before he stepped aside in order for them to at last cross the bridge. Once they were across Ceolmund turned to the hag seated next to him, to his right, ¡°Why did you not enchant him again?¡±


    ¡°Because, as I said the prior time, such magicks necessitate energy and even should I do such a thing, his lord would know and we could not cross the next time!¡± She hissed back.


    When the two of them were finished arguing they resumed their grumpy silence, leaving Ealhstan¡¯s whistling as the only source of noise in the immediate area. Glowering at him the knights kept to themselves.


    Off in the distance the hill-top fort loomed over them, a wooden fort that dated back to the reign of Eadmund Land-Grabber, who was of famous memory for his political subjugation of Hwicce. He had also formally made Estria a vassal and taken all of the lands south of the Waldr and north of the Rhiaulwyd from the eastern kingdom. The lord of this particular fort at the time of the conquest was the lord Ealdwyn who had sworn to ever uphold the line of Eadmund. A faithful and ferocious warrior, there were rumours that he had fallen ill as of late and was bed-ridden so that his son ruled over his lands. His castle which was a key river-crossing fort was twenty meters high and more than double that size in length and wideness on a man-made hill as was the custom of all forts built during and after the reign of ?eelric.


    The melancholy Gwilherm felt then was beyond words as he descended into moroseness and weary sorrow, for his lost freedom. Certainly, he had crossed the Rhiaulwyd without being made to pay the toll as previously feared, however he had been robbed of all that he had and was now little more than a slave. The only comfort he had was that at times he had the passing thought that the wolf-howls that seemed to follow after the group of slavers, was really Remus trailing them. This thought was always mixed with a certain amount of worry for the dog notably about what Wulfrun and Ceolmund might do to him, were they to catch the canine.


    This thought in particular made him restless, and long for his lost liberties as he looked to the heavens beyond the bars of his cell, wondering at all that ?thelwulf had stolen from him and why he had allowed this to happen. Yes, he had fled from Morcar¡¯s grasp however he could have returned, to quarrel with the man for his lands back, regardless of the looming threat of Balthrorth and yet he had remained at court.


    ¡°I shan¡¯t sink any lower than this,¡± He said to himself early on the morn of the third day since his capture, by the three slave-traders. They were currently camped by the Rhiaulwyd river, having preferred to head north of the crossing, thence they turned back south-east to circumnavigate the castle of Ealdwyn. They were headed for Lundrun where the slavers hoped to sell them, without anyone being the wiser that it was them, as Northmen were now permitted to visit the trade-city. On condition of course that they restrain themselves and not report anything that they saw to their relatives in Fialinn in ¨¦riu.


    The city had yet to appear upon the horizon, as it was night they had encamped as stated by the river, with Wulfrun and Ceolmund bundled up in furs and sleeping off to one side of the cell, by a fire that was dying. As to Ealhstan he was asleep with his back against the caravan, near Gwilherm¡¯s foot, having pressed his back against the side of the vehicle some time ago. The horses had been better fed than the inmates were, with the knights off to one side and Vladin still at the back of the cage. Eyeing them all as he ran a hand through his tawny beard, eyes half-closed as he kept his back to the front of the cage eyes still upon the stars. It was an old game of his and Eadwin, to count them and try to tell stories about each one of them individually, the memory of those old tales and games with his eldest sibling sent a wave of pain through him.


    ¡°I highly doubt that, Gwilherm,¡± Ealhstan corrected speaking so suddenly that he made the warrior jump a little from within the cell.


    ¡°How long- but when did you awaken Ealhstan?¡± Gwilherm yelped as he near leapt to his feet to stare down upon the old man with eyes that could barely pierce the darkness between them.


    ¡°For some time, nobleman of Estria, for some time,¡± The enchanter informed him with a gusty sigh and a small snort of laughter, ¡°You snored for a time and only now roused lad and this caught my attention.¡±


    ¡°Why are you awake?¡±


    ¡°Because, I like to study the stars and ponder the mysteries of the universe and history itself¡­ well there is that, and those damnable howls, keep trailing us giving me a fright late at night.¡± he admitted as he let out another breath this one of a visible longing.


    Gwilherm had little empathy for the man who had tricked him, yet he wondered if mayhap this could be used to help in his escape. As to the ¡®wolf-howls¡¯ they filled him with hope and despair for Remus, all at once. So distracted was he by his plot for freedom that he very near did not hear the next words that slipped, forth from the chapped lips of the enchanter. ¡°At the moment, what I question is how long drakes such as Balthrorth and his ilk could last as they are.¡±


    ¡°How do you mean, Ealhstan?¡± He queried confused by the change in topic, as he had no understanding of the point that was being made to him. ¡°Are there forces mightier than the dragons that stalk this land, preying upon the good people of Brittia?¡±


    ¡°Aye there are lad, there be gods for one thing but more than that there are other dragons¡­ good ones, who take ill others besmirching the honour of their people therefore they shan¡¯t last past this age methinks.¡± Ealhstan murmured softly head bowed in thought.


    His worries seemed those of another age, with Gwilherm knowing nothing of dragons. So rare were they in North-Agenor and in Bretwealda that few knew anything, save for their appearances and names. Much had been written it was said though, in the distant south in South-Agenor, amongst the people of the dragon-marches and amongst the people of Theodosianople.


    Not understanding why these certain concerns might trouble the old man¡¯s rest, he asked of him, ¡°Why worry over the other dragons if they are never to trouble us?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I never said anything of them not troubling us child, but spoke of them coming to punish Balthrorth and Razenth.¡± The old man clarified with his brows pressing together in consternation as he at last turned to glance up at the younger man. ¡°We of the Lordly-Isle may well, soon face a war that we have no means of resisting or of hiding from, if something is not done soon we may well end up like the Burnt Isle.¡±


    ¡°What is the ¡®Burnt-Isle¡¯?¡± Gwilherm queried having never heard this tale before, it sounded terrible and yet as there was no one else to speak to him, he could not help but cling to Ealhstan. He desired conversation and company, no matter how humiliating this need was and how much others might regard this as him abasing himself once more.


    ¡°¡®What is the Burnt-Isle¡¯ he asks, ptcha youths of today know nothing!¡± Ealhstan complained bitterly only to laugh a little, his derisive manner angered his captive.


    ¡°Mayhap you do not know half so much as you pretend to,¡± Gwilherm taunted him seized by anger and the same impetuous folly that had served him so badly up to this moment.


    ¡°What? Of course, I know all about the Burnt-Isle of Qell?via, it is an old tale as all who know of it, know.¡± Ealhstan growled back with equal fury before he cleared his throat and launched himself into the dreadful tale of the isle in question. ¡°Once the isle prospered just to the north of Namavo, the isle of the Amazons which lies itself west of the kingdom of Korax- do you know where that is or must I draw a map for you?¡±


    The scorn in his voice might well have caused more complaining on the part of the noble, but he was too curious to deny his lack of familiarity with the very basics of geography. He had heard of both lands of course, who had not? Korax was the ancestral lands of the Ogres, dominated since well after the Second of the Ilian Wars and the great ¡®March West¡¯ of the green-people. As to Namavo, the Amazons had infamous reputations as mercenaries and cruel brigands and slave-traders, little better than the Northmen who stalked all towns and areas connected directly to the sea. Save where Vikings favoured the sea, the Amazons despised it and preferred land and once they had their feet settled somewhere were unlikely to take to any boats. They were rather akin to the Ogres, they so despised in that regard.


    Another howl pierced the air, resounding throughout the land, this time all the closer than before. Grabbing his traveling staff, Ealhstan pressed the point into the nearby sand in order to start to trace together rough circles meant to represent the two continents and their neighbouring isles. With special attention given to Qell?via and the Namavian archipelago, the former being some distance to the north of the latter¡¯s collection of isles.


    ¡°Now you see? You see?¡± Said the old man in an eager voice, enjoying despite his irritation at being questioned by the youth currently cage in front of him.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Seeing the ¡®map¡¯ of circles and now that he had an idea of where this ¡®Burnt-Isle¡¯ was located Gwilherm better understood, ¡°Now that I know where to find it, what of this isle¡¯s history?¡±


    ¡°Ah yes, yes well the dragon Morgranth the Long or Morgranth the Devil as many called him was infamous throughout all the lands of both Agenors and the distant land to the east called Beveriand. He was so evil that he ravaged for a time entire kingdoms, destroying large tracts of land possessed by the Romalians, devastating their empire from the kingdom of Doria and Ilion in the south-east to Korax in the west, until he at last settled upon Qell?via-¡±


    ¡°But where did he come from?¡±


    ¡°Do not interrupt me lad, and I am not sure, he came from the east that is all that is known of him. But where was I? Oh yes, he journeyed through the whole of South Agenor wherefore he moved north to the Gernavian Isles ravaging them, before he moved to destroy all that was north of them in the lands now called Volkholant. He then returned south ravaging the south of Parmenia along the way, with the aid of his relatives Mydan and Razenth and their cousin Balthrorth going off into the Twelve Kingdoms. In time the last of these four wyrms left for north of the Glacial Sea, whilst Balthrorth headed west towards Qell?via.¡±


    ¡°And it was he who burnt the island to ashes?¡± Gwilherm inquired not understanding where the tale was headed, as thus far this tale had little to nothing to do with any possible war between dragons.


    ¡°Nay, not exactly lad but his depredations of almost three continents angered three good dragons, to the east of the Koraxian Mountains; Zserdthoras the Cerulean, Arndryck the Elder and the she-dragon Fondyrress the Onyx. All of whom met near Mt-Zelgaran in middle-Korax to consult amongst themselves and to decide to slay Morgranth, and his relatives Mydan and Razenth.¡± Ealhstan explained in a voice that chilled the very bones of his captive who shivered to imagine the dragons taking flight and battling amongst themselves. He was not familiar with all the details of the battle of the six dragons, the enchanter explained at some length how they had come to clash over the island of Qell?via. ¡°Though the king of Qell?via, attempted to negotiate with the dragons and the three good ones had the best of intentions. The battle that ensued was so bloody, involved so much magic and dragon-fire, dragon-thunder and the ice-breath of Zserdthoras the Large. The battle ended with Arndryck the Elder and Fondyrress¡¯s deaths and that of everyone who lived on Qell?via.¡±


    ¡°Did they slay Morgranth?¡±


    ¡°I daresay they did, though the cost was mayhap too great for all given the only survivors were Mydan and Razenth who both fled, and Zserdthoras whom they believed to have perished.¡± Ealhstan finished in a reproachful tone sensing perhaps that the youth had begun to in some way justify the great tragedies, of the Burnt-Isle. ¡°It has since become known as the ¡®Burnt-Isle¡¯. To think! An isle the size of our own burnt to ashes, leaving no life upon its surface for near five centuries now!¡±


    ¡°Bah, they likely deserved it,¡± Ceolmund grunted suddenly awakening long enough to growl at the two of them, ¡°Now ye two outter get some rest less ye want me to smash yer ¡®eads in!¡±


    ¡°Oh I can imagine one person here, meriting a dragon¡¯s fury,¡± Ealhstan grumbled drawing a small snort from the man in the caravan, one that drew a glower from the brute near the fire. ¡°Or who might deserve to be fed to whatever wolf is still trailing us!¡±


    The rest of the night passed swiftly enough, with the enchanter encouraging him to sleep and passing along a fur-cloak for him to pull up to his shoulders to aid in keeping warm. A gesture that warmed the heart of the noble far more than any simple fur-cloak did.


    *****


    It was the next day that truly saw a growing warmth between the old man and the youth as to the surprise of all concerned, the ordinarily lazy Ealhstan preferred to walk alongside the caravan. Staff in hand, he exchanged stories, told old poems and sang old songs to the warrior caged next to him, who ignored by his companions chose to ignore them now in turn.


    Encouraged by the nascent friendship, he told a tale his brother had once told him in his youth, namely that of the slaying of the terrible Cyclops Gelgaran the Gluttonous. The last Cyclops on the shores of the Lordly-Isle, having survived towards the end of the age of Roma he had taken to tormenting the people of Estria north of the Waldr-river. ¡°My ancestor, Ronec the first lord of R¨¦alwaldr is said to have defied the terrible giant who was stalking the whole of the lands of Estria, devouring the local people-¡±


    ¡°Do mention the name by which Ronec was said to have gone by Gwilherm,¡± Vladin hooted bemused by the story as he was rather familiar with it, and with the rest of Estria¡¯s history.


    Irritated, Gwilherm might well have snapped at him was it not for patient Ealhstan interfering at that moment with a bemused flick of his own eyes in the same direction that the younger human looked to. ¡°I am familiar with the tale, though have never heard the song or that of Ronec¡¯s renowned son ?rgad the Tall.¡±


    Pleased and flattered by this mention of the most famous of his ancestors, and the discreet praise to his abilities as a singer, though he had no harp the heir of Ronec and ?rgad began the song of the former first.


    ¡°There once was a clumsy oaf,


    One who ne¡¯er could resist a loaf,


    And who chose to both


    Lose his cattle and though loathe


    To admit it, he laid to waste the hope


    Of his people, the mighty keep¡¯s fourth


    Tower and lo with a tumble and a leap, the oaf


    Didst unsettle more than one loaf,


    For shame, for shame yell¡¯d and shriek¡¯d


    The whole of Brittia, for shame they didst


    Howl and yell and lo how they shriek¡¯d!


    So that away, away gallop¡¯d


    Noble Ronec, face array¡¯d


    With resolve and little yield,


    Away he rode, far away to the east,


    Those lands where Cyclops do still feast,


    Ere they were made to desist,


    By noble Ronec, who always didst resist,


    Rogue and beast,


    Sally-ho, tally-ho away he went,


    Ne¡¯er he didst bent,


    Nor was he rent,


    But the Cyclops¡¯ he didst rend,


    Gone was the whimsical


    Oaf, fare thee well clumsy


    One, and with an oops, and how typical,


    Of the oaf, oh how comfy


    The Cyclops was not, with a lance


    Through the heart, small and little


    As it was! Lo! He didst whittle


    At him thereafter princess on arm, he didst prance


    And how they didst dance!¡±


    Both of the willing listeners rejoiced in the song, Vladin doing so slightly more reluctantly as he was still feeling morose. The proceeding one was said to have been from the age whereupon the Valhols came into Bretwealda to conquer it, desiring the Arglvel or ¡®Lordly-Gem¡¯ for themselves. The gemstone had been hand-crafted by the Dwarf-smith Dalin who made it for an ancient Romalian princess. In time it was lost in the wars to the Faramondian dynasty of Breizh, who sent it with one of their princesses as a dowry to Cauldria, to wed the king there. The gem later was seized by the king¡¯s enemies along with one of his daughters and was made to marry the aforementioned enemy, with the stone becoming a royal jewel of the ruling dynasty of the kingdom he built. Unfortunately rumours of its beauty aroused the greed of the Valhols in the east, who journeyed west facilitated in their journey by the easily cowed Faramondians, who gave them arms and boats to seize the Lordly-Isle. This they did, establishing the kingdoms of Gewisse, Hwicce and many others, with Estria one of the few that resisted for a time.


    It was during these wars that ?rgad the Tall shone as a hero, combating to defend his people against the Valhol conquerors in what was said to have been one hundred battles for his king Valnac. Another hundred was fought after the fall of Valnac the Bold passed in the battle of Sudwaldr, to the forces of Vartigern the Despoiler. It is said; the conquering king¡¯s subordinate Hengist so impressed by the courage and might of ?rgad the Tall that he gave to him the hand of his daughter, Renwein who had come with the conquerors. This daughter was originally intended to be the bride of Valnac however upon his death she was wed to his vassal who became smitten with her at once. It is said that for this reason, when ?rgad¡¯s sworn-brother Eldrin stole her away to the magical fortress of Vhlindlad, the lord of R¨¦alwaldr and his good-father fought together to storm the fort and reclaim Renwein.


    In the days after this, she bore her husband thirteen children with her children the cousins of the kings of Morwyn in the south, which had been established by her father Hengist. He it was who was succeeded as king by his grandson Hengist II through his daughter, Morwen. In these years there was great friendship between the lords of Estria and Morwyn, as they had fought together against the newly crowned kings of Hwicce and those of Bernicia in the north.


    The song that follows is a shortened variant of a much longer epic, one that detailed the whole of the journey and adventures of ?rgad and Hengist in their quest. Gwilherm preferred the shortened song at that moment, as the love between Renwein and ?rgad was one that made him uncomfortable, as he had never experienced such passion he could not understand it. Little did he know, before his story was at an end, he would experience such a love himself.


    ¡°Long was the war of the Valhol-sons,


    They reached by sea the lordly-dunes,


    With many a heave-ho they reached Estria¡¯s abode,


    Lo! Hengist cried a-loud, ¡®There be a war-god!¡¯


    So sayeth the horse-breaker as he charged  ?rgad,


    Ages ago long wert their war ¨C short their peace,


    Together came the Estrian and Vertigern¡¯s niece,


    In his hall arriv¡¯d Valhol¡¯s fairest flower,


    Dressed in silken finery face dour,


    With a ¡®heave¡¯ and a ¡®ho¡¯ came they of Valhol¡¯s shore,


    Lo! Came Estria¡¯s great bore,


    So fierce was he methinks he was a boar,


    Heart red with hate for the Valhol horde,


    ?rgad tall as a yew,


    Stood agape eyes round and blue,


    Blue as sea-waves wert they,


    Not a once not for a day,


    Wert his gaze to stray away,


    Enchant¡¯d as Ealdor Stargazer by the moon,


    Eros¡¯s thistle prick¡¯d as sharp as a harpoon,


    And thrice as deeply did love squeeze his throat akin to a rope!


    With a cleave and a ¡®oh!¡¯ stumbled he of Estria¡¯s shore,


    Lo! Came Valhol¡¯s noble with a roar,


    So fair his flower that ?rgad did kiss the floor,


    Wick¡¯d as a devil and twice as envious was the mage,


    Sweet as berries with no rage,


    Twenty flowers Renwein threw- only one caught,


    With a sally-ho and a tumble ?rgad wore it and so won her heart!


    White as snow wert she, hair black as night,


    Renwein Raven-hair looked him, eyes bright!


    Sally-ho rumbled the Estrian boor,


    So enamoured that he didst forget war,


    Lo! Ne¡¯er didst she laugh thereat him, in his fort!


    Roses¡¯ bloom¡¯d as surely as hearts soar¡¯d!


    Lo! The warrior¡¯s cheeks wert pink whence all thought him


    Wild as a boar!


    With a sally-ho they wander¡¯d hand in hand,


    From vale to vale and from field to field didst they dance,


    ¡®Till misery and much sorrow swept thither encloak¡¯d,


    Velgnor be he the foul mage who did much to them unprovok¡¯d,


    Tally-ho! Renwein a-shriek¡¯d for she be stolen from her boar,


    So unite must Hengist and he for war!


    To the tower they must go to tear away his door,


    Lo! Once ?rgad was a bore,


    Sally-ho! He is now more boar than boor!¡±


    ¡°Bravo, bravo!¡± Ealhstan applauded evidently pleased by the lyrical, mirthful yet at the same time sorrowful and epic songs that had burst forth from the lips and heart of his newfound friend. ¡°I really shan¡¯t imagine I could have done better than you lad!¡±


    ¡°You praise me overmuch, Ealhstan,¡± Gwilherm said struck by a sudden sense of embarrassment as he ducked his head in response to the enthusiasm of the old merchant for the poems he had recited for him.


    ¡°Oh quiet with that noise the lot of ye, we have no more need of songs,¡± Wulfrun cried out at them, a scowl of displeasure on her ugly face.


    As with before, Ealhstan took up a wounded expression whenever she treated him in such a harsh manner his affection for her not to be doubted. Neither was her scorn for the world around her, as he sought to reason with her, ¡°Oh do calm down my dear, I am sure that another song might lighten the mood, until lunch that is-¡±


    ¡°You have had quite enough lunches, I daresay Ealhstan,¡± She snapped at once, drawing a small giggle from the even plumper Ceolmund, who sneered at the older slaver, evidently pleased to see him abased.


    ¡°Why do you stay by her side, so faithfully if she is so horrid?¡± Gwilherm later asked nearer to noon, just as the twin suns reached their apex and mouldy, flea-filled bread was dispersed amongst the prisoners who for the most parts pushed away the food in disgust. They preferred to stare longingly at the small collection of mutton, stew, cheese and wine devoured by their captors.


    Ealhstan who always ate apart from the other two gave him a hard look, one that seemed to come from a place of bitterness and irritation.


    ¡°You speak as though, you are better treated than I by those you have selected as friends,¡± Ealhstan hissed back at him, grey eyes narrowed up at him with such fury that he could well have passed for the noble¡¯s good-brother.


    The notion that they were not entirely dissimilar struck the youth, and was one that was to endure for some time in his spirit. He pondered the meaning of it, looking deep into the unknown of his own character and finding weakness therein that he wished with all his soul to strangle.


    For her part, Wulfrun said naught more preferring to brood about the distance between them and Lundrun and how she had been robbed of twenty wyverns. It was later as she pulled the two men aside, near a small hamlet of farms to see about adding, to the ¡®collection¡¯ of slaves she wished to gather before entering into the city that Galen, addressed the Brittian.


    ¡°Gwilherm, you have spent some time with that old man in the past day or so, and seem to share a number of songs and jests with him,¡± He said suddenly to Gwilherm who gave a slight nod in response confused as to where the Neustrian wished to direct the conversation. ¡°I merely thought to ask of you, whether you might consider seeking Ealhstan¡¯s assistance in abetting our escape from this thrice-cursed cell?¡±


    Bewildered by the question, especially after the two had not spoken to one another in days, not since their capture at the hands of the slavers, Gwilherm hesitated. He suspected that he likely might have done better to expect such a request, however it nonetheless took him by surprise, as he had not expected it, or for Galen to be the one to ask such a thing of him.


    He could not ask such a thing at once, of Ealhstan not with the other two slavers present, and so he had to wait for Wulfrun to depart to go negotiate with local slavers and for Ceolmund to look away. Whereupon he learnt close to the edge of the cage, to speak to the enchanter who refused at once shaking his head as one possessed before he had finished speaking.


    ¡°I shan¡¯t help you! I shan¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°But we will be sold, you know we are of noble birth Ealhstan and are- we have a sacred trust placed in us to slay Balthrorth, on behalf of his highness the King.¡± Gwilherm pleaded as he met the old man¡¯s gaze steadily, doing his utmost to capture and maintain the other man¡¯s stare.


    He strove then to uphold all the honour and courage instilled in him in his younger years by his father and brother, whilst hiding the weakness and uncertainty that were only natural with such a quest.


    Mouth agape, it was some time before he spoke again turning his gaze to the rest of the travelers, with Vladin opening his own mouth to speak up until he was given a ferocious blow to the side, courtesy of Roparzh¡¯s elbow. Ealhstan for his own part, at last settled his gaze back upon that of the heir of R¨¦alwaldr and gave a slight nod.


    ¡°I shall assist you, later in the night when the other two have fallen asleep and I have slipped off with the key.¡± He promised at last, with a shake of his head only to add with a warning glance to all of them, ¡°You must not harm Wulfrun! Swear to me that you will not harm her, I must hear you swear this oath.¡±


    Mystified by his love for her, the whole of their band preferred to keep silent for several minutes before they all swore the oath, one that none wished to swear yet none could discern any reason not to, not if they wished to regain their freedom. They in this manner bound themselves in fate and in word, to that of Wulfrun to the satisfaction of the enchanter who pleased by this acquiescence on their parts agreed at last to assist them.


    The reluctance of the elder to assist them stayed with many of them for some time, just as the time he took to secure the key to the chain and lock wrapped around the entrance to the cage. This so distressed them that they hardly felt too much gratitude as they ought to have, when he appeared upon night-fall to liberate them.


    Only Gwilherm felt overwhelmed by the force of his emotions, a noble youth in nature at that moment he could not cease the flow of grateful ¡®thanks¡¯ he uttered to the enchanter. Nodding to himself with a small smile upon his lips went to open the cage just before his hands shaking lost his grip upon the key so that it fell upon the ground. A terrible curse escaped his lips then just as Vladin and Roparzh hissed at him. Only Galen maintained one eye upon the other captors, hardly paying the entrance of their cage any true attention.


    ¡°One moment,¡± Ealhstan begged as he bent down to pick up the key.


    ¡°Hurry fool!¡± Growled the Dwarf, ripping an ¡®o¡¯ of fright from the enchanter who raised his head too fast, hitting the back of his head upon the bars which resonated whilst he rubbed the summit of his skull with a cry and whimper of pain.


    ¡°Fool!¡± Roparzh and Gwilherm cursed at once, both of them forgetting themselves.


    ¡°Away with you hand us the key and we shall free ourselves, hurry!¡± Galen urged in the meantime, for he could see that Wulfrun and Ceolmund were in the midst of awakening and this frightened him. He knew better than the rest of his travel-companions that their only friend, amongst the slavers could not possibly fare well in combat against them, regardless how hardy and tough his personality.


    Older than they, he had observed how little personal charm and charisma could matter in combat at times. His consternation only awoke the irritation of Ealhstan who was a stubborn sort of man, one whom took little pleasure in hearing such doubt of his ability to help another. Proud and strong, he rejected this proposal by Galen, ¡°I said I would help ye, and so shall. Therefore cease thine urgings, as you have another great task before you; namely that of assuring us all that Ceolmund and Wulfrun stay asleep!¡±


    ¡°It hardly matters now!¡± Gwilherm cried in despair, as their hopes were dashed by the raising of her head, and the cry that was torn from the cracked lips of the old hag.


    ¡°Traitor!¡± She shrieked, more ugly and terrible in that instant than anyone else they had ever seen, in all their lives and all the captives knew fear as no other, they had ever endured in all their lives.


    Afraid Ealhstan froze where he stood, as she awoke the brute asleep next to her with another cry, so that Ceolmund glancing about took notice of the absence of the key on his belt, and the presence of the enchanter by the cage. ¡°Traitor!¡±


    ¡°Free us!¡± Gwilherm shouted with such care and fear that it only worsened the anxiety that had seized poor Ealhstan, who likely stood as one in a terrible dream.


    The frantic attempt to free them continued. The eyes of the prisoners were no longer on the hands of the enchanter but staring in desperation, on the oncoming Ceolmund.  Hardly a weak or gentle man, he took a mighty swing at the enchanter who had the good sense to duck just to say in time, when he sensed the blow whistling through the air. The club struck the bars and chain of the carriage-cage, with the force of it radiating up through the club, and into the very arms and bones of the brute who for his part, let slip a hiss of pain and irritation as he pulled a muscle or four.


    Angered by this, he might well have taken another attempt to strike Ealhstan dead with his terrible club, were it not for the sudden action of his intended victim.


    Later, he would declaim any serious talent in magic, being still a mere ¡®Staff-Mage¡¯ the lowest of all ranks in the Order of Sorcery (or he had been before he had left the Order). For this reason he could not turn Ceolmund into a toad as some might well have wished him to.


    Far faster than any enchantment he knew how to utilise with his staff-magic, Ealhstan did not have to wait long for it to take effect as Ceolmund coughed a little in surprise. Then he sneezed, only to glower back at the old man, ¡°What did you just spray in me face?!¡±


    ¡°What did you just do, old Ealhstan?¡± Repeated Gwilherm and Roparzh, both equally curious about the powder which caused as they observed Ceolmund to begin swinging wildly about the air in circles some distance from the enchanter, with his ferocious club, screaming out as he did so in such a wild manner as to bewilder each of them.


    It was soon evident though that he was in fact blinded, or that some similar effect had been cast upon him, with Ealhstan answering to that very effect as he shoved the key into the lock. ¡°Blinded and distracted him, he now thinks there¡¯s about four or five of me surrounding him.¡±


    It was nary a moment later that he turned the key in the lock, with the enchantress thinking faster than any of the men currently imprisoned, ¡°Wait Ealhstan! Will you betray and abandon me now also?!¡±


    The words might have failed to have any effect upon any other man, and yet it made the bearded old man dressed in the faded blue robes pause. Something that inspired panic in the captives, as Roparzh reached across the bars to turn the key one last time and click it into place. ¡°Do not stop! We are almost free!¡±


    Just to say a short distance past Eahlstan, Ceolmund who had swallowed what Eahlstan later called ¡®Blinding-Dust¡¯, taken from a forest far to the east of Amadan, on the isle of ¨¦riu. The isle to the west of Bretwealda, which was known to a great many as the ¡®Emerald Isle¡¯ or in those days, the ¡®Accursed Isle¡¯ due in no small part to the reign of madness of the Warlock-King of Amadan, who ruled over most of it, and whom was the most evil force in the whole of the lands of North-Agenor (or near it). The dust was gathered with the aid of pixies with whom Eahlstan was friendly, though it would not work for very long as proven when Ceolmund shook his head, which had begun to clear itself of the effects.


    ¡°Grubby enchanter!¡± He growled furiously, about ready to pounce upon the enchanter once more, save this time he was determined to pound him to death with his club.


    What he did not see, was Remus who had trailed after the group of slavers, after having lost track of them on that first day they set out. Only to have caught their scent, trailing them across the river (which he forded), he had at last caught up wherefore he preferred to lie in wait for them to be distracted or asleep before he attempted an actual attack, as wolves and dogs are wont to do with their prey. The goal of the dog always having been to catch up to Gwilherm, and to attack those who had seized a-hold of his person, with this being the moment where he threw himself forward in the name of his duty. As dark as night itself, eyes glimmering in the shadows with an almost terrifying light, Remus sank his fangs deep into the flesh of Ceolmund¡¯s left leg. Tearing he shook his head as he bit, chewed and bit some more, all with murderous intent towards he who had struck his greatest friend near to a week prior.


    The scream that escaped from Ceolmund¡¯s lips was a horrid one. Filled with agony, it sounded as though his voice and soul were being torn whole from his throat as he flailed about with his club, tears in his eyes. Regaining his senses a moment later, as he overcame the terrible fear and agony that had shot itself up from his leg, with stars in accompaniment that still clouded his vision he prepared a mighty swing. One that might well have ended the poor heroic-dog¡¯s life had it struck, with this strike never to be struck as it was then that Roparzh and Galen threw themselves forward from their cage and towards the brute who had so cruelly stolen away their freedom.


    ¡°Ealhstan do not betray me!¡± Wulfrun shrieked once more just as the chain dropped from around the cage door and fell, with the old woman raising her arms and staff. Her staff was large with a crimson jewel at the end, where Ealhstan¡¯s had a emerald one, with both made of ash-wood. Hers appeared older, being black and gnarled so that it struck horror in all who observed it, where the white and grey staff of the old man was pretty to look upon. All of the former captives rushed forth, knocking Ealhstan aside in their great hurry to be free, with the knights rushing upon Ceolmund who had nary time to scream before he was thrown to the ground and slain by his own club which they tore from his grasp.


    His scream of pain echoed throughout the area, with Vladin moving to secure the horses and carriage thinking that his comrades intended to capture Wulfrun. Mayhap to inflict upon her, what she had done unto them. This left Gwilherm to hesitate as he had but her to fare himself against, and was every bit as afraid of her as his companions were.


    ¡°Ealhstan please,¡± Wulfrun called as her eyes moved to the side to focus upon the knights, in the midst of slaying her other comrade. Evidently she was in the midst of scheming some sort of dastardly plan to harm Ealhstan, her gaze hardly took in the Brittian near the blue-robed enchanter.


    She was not the only one who made the mistake, of lowering their guard as in the case of the bearded old man who looked visibly torn, between his desire to return to her and resisting her. He opted to plead with her in a voice so pitiful that it tore at the heartstrings of the noble, ¡°Please Wulfrun, we did wrong but this need not go further-¡±


    ¡°It has already gone too far, do you not think? And who do you think is at fault-¡± It was then that Gwilherm who had been sidling to the left of her in the hopes of retrieving his and his companions swords, noticed what she was about; pulling from some hidden pocket in her robes a hidden throwing-knife one she gripped by the handle in a firm if experienced grip.


    Struck by this and by his own sense of loyalty to Ealhstan who had more than earned such strong sentiments on his behalf, with his great leap towards her startling the old hag. Who letting out a great shriek attempted to raise her knife to defend herself but was far too slow, as Gwilherm skilfully twisted her wrist and plucked the dagger from her grasp. He was however surprised when she letting out a great bellow of rage leapt up at him, to try to reclaim it only for the blade to be instinctively thrust up, between her ribs and straight into her heart.


    A great shriek of pain and shock ensued, as she fell back brokenly, with a great shout Ealhstan hurried to her side to catch her, holding her in his arms he lowered her gently to the ground. Her last act being to spit up at him, with a contemptuous gleam in her eyes before she closed them, the sheer amount of hatred she felt for one who loved her froze Gwilherm¡¯s heart. Suddenly she went from a pitiful old woman he had not meant to kill, to one he took pride in tearing away from the world.


    ¡°I had not meant to but, she deserved it,¡± He uttered with more venom and bitterness than he had originally intended.


    ¡°She was not always black in nature and terrible in her desires, once she was a dancing forest-maid who wished for naught more than to wed and bear happy babes.¡± Ealhstan murmured brokenly tears in his eyes, wetting his beard and the face of the old crone in his arms. ¡°But life was not so generous to her, and she became with each new betrayal and cruelty, more wretched than before Gwilherm¡­ but I always thought, if I loved her as I did then, she might go back- go back to being she whom I adored and longed to make my wife.¡±


    The sobs that wracked the body of the old man tore at the hearts of all those present, so that Vladin dried his own eyes with the tip of his long-beard and the Neustrians who had joined Gwilherm remained silent. The pity in Galen¡¯s eyes and the compassion in Roparzh, was strange to the Brittian¡¯s mind. He had compassion himself for Ealhstan even if he could not understand the old man¡¯s grief.


    ¡°She was an enemy and would have slain him,¡± He complained miserably.


    ¡°Silence Gwilherm, regardless how evil she was, she was still loved which makes hers a sad end,¡± Vladin hissed at him before returning his gaze to the enchanter, ¡°We have the horses, and Wulfrun¡¯s rations- enough to make it a little ways past the Waldr-river. We should not tarry for too long.¡±


    ¡°But we will if only long enough to offer our enemies a proper burial and prayers.¡± Roparzh insisted his faith such that he could not fathom doing anything less than that.


    Gwilherm though he muttered many a complaints found that he much enjoyed the feeling at that moment of working a shovel (taken from the camp of Wulfrun), and digging two graves and then praying for them. Once the two pieces of wood which were in the shape of swords, as was proper were stuck in the ground and had the names of the fallen engraved into them, Ealhstan broke once more into a stream of tears. This caused Remus, never very hard-hearted, and having by then calmed himself, to begin nudging and licking at Gwilherm¡¯s hand, in a vain attempt to draw some sort of attention from him only for him to whine. Worried for the enchanter, Remus moved to nuzzle Eahlstan¡¯s leg, before he licked the man¡¯s hand. Evidently consternated for the old man and sensing no great danger from him, as he did more to comfort him than any of the other travelers, as he succeeded in gaining for himself a small distracted pat on the head.


    ¡°Once again I have been left alone, and she has abandoned me with no thought to my love for her!¡± He cried out sobbing pitifully again.


    ¡°Still it was ever her way,¡± Galen muttered in the midst of preparing the horses, ¡°We must be away Gwilherm for we have tarried over long.¡±


    ¡°A moment,¡± He pleaded before he turned his gaze to the man to the right of him, putting a hand on the kneeling man¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Ealhstan¡­ will you accompany us? We have great need of your wisdom, and you cannot remain here wallowing in tears and pain forevermore.¡±


    ¡°A-aye you have the right of it lad,¡± Ealhstan murmured brokenly wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his robe, ¡°I will, though you killed the only woman I ever loved, I shall never abandon you Gwilherm. For you and I are bound together, by destiny, this my heart tells me even as it beats itself against my chest hard enough, to shatter once more¡­¡±

 Chapter IV: A Most Disastrous Rescue

    ¡°We must ride past the Waldr and over the mountains to reach the great mount, Sorg the ¡®Dreaded Mountain¡¯.¡± Ealhstan explained pointing across the Waldr River, having been traveling with them for three days now, with the enchanter far more light-hearted in nature than previously predicted. The old man¡¯s manner was filled with forced cheer, his mud-stained robes far dirtier than when they first met him. Next to him traipsed Remus, who leapt, hopped and whined for his attention, having taken to the enchanter.


    Only Gwilherm and on occasion Vladin remained amused by the dog¡¯s antics, as they were the most attached by this time, to the dog.


    ¡°The Waldr, I have always longed to see this river,¡± Vladin murmured dreamily, as he studied the waters with an intent gleam in his eyes.


    ¡°Why ever would you wish, to see this river?¡± Roparzh queried a hint of mockery in his voice.


    ¡°My nanny told me many a tales of an old Dwarf by the name of Thurdin who fell in love with the spirit of the Waldr River, who carried him off to a under-water palace as he carried stones past here, for Lundrun.¡± The Dwarf informed him with what was still a fascinated glance. His previous terror of the dragon returning with a great deal of added anxiety, as he considered the fact that the wooden-bridge they drew up, next to was in even worse condition than the one they had used to cross over the Rhiaulwyd. ¡°I may have always longed for this river; I cannot say however that I have ever wished to see the mountain of the dragon, not since he crossed into Estria from the north nigh on twenty-years ago.¡±


    The nanny of whom he spoke of was a mystery to the other travelers, with none entirely certain how his father and mother ever paid for anyone to take up such a task. However, what they did not know, was that the nanny was in truth a distant elderly aunt, with such duties in Dwarvish culture, often falling onto elders and distant relatives, who could no longer work themselves. In this way, all were guaranteed to contribute, with the young made to do all manner of physical work, and the elders all the teaching. It was partly this that was the reason, Dwarves were such knowledgeable folks, and such excellent craftsmen, with many considering toil a holy thing, so that they were often the leaders of mercantile and artisan guilds throughout all of North and South Agenor.


    This was a tale they all well-knew, for none in the land were unaware of the great terror that had swept across the Glacial Sea carrying with him fire, blood and sorrow. Such was the force of the sense of loss that all in Estria had been brought low. Commerce had ceased along with most travel in and out of Estria halted.


    Anxious to regain his lands Gwilherm wished to visit his old home with Vladin at once bobbing his head at this idea, with a wide smile, ¡°I think it wise to seek them out to restock our food and change our two horses. Mayhap they will also know more there, than we regarding the situation herein Estria.¡±


    His proposal was one that greatly pleased the members of their group, notably Ealhstan who beamed with visible relief at the thought. ¡°Oh excellent, a place where I may rest my feet and curl up near a fire would be lovely, do your people have honey and mulled wine Gwilherm?¡±


    ¡°I know not,¡± He confessed miserably, ¡°I have not been there in some time as I was sent away, when I was but a mere stripling.¡±


    ¡°This will be impossible,¡± Galen muttered with his accent and peculiarly Neustrian pronunciation leaking into his voice so that the manner, in which he uttered his words, sounded strange to the ears of his companions. ¡°We shan¡¯t stop anywhere, as we have orders to ensure that Gwilherm performs his duty.¡±


    This reminder that he was intended for death, at the claws and flame of Balthrorth tore apart the good humour that had begun to infiltrate the heart of the warrior. A sigh escaped his lips, as he trudged alongside the horses, the skies darkening overhead.


    They remained darkened with thunder cracking and echoing throughout all the land of Estria as they crossed through it northwards, for the mountain where the dragon rested atop his hoard. A hoard ill-gained from all those who lived throughout the whole of the Lordly-Isle, treasure that included the inheritance Eadwin had received from their father Eadgar, with the former having intended to leave it to Gwilherm himself. The denial of his inheritance had always stuck with the young man, who would have otherwise liked to impart a proper dowry to his sister Elena, and to have avenged his brother, by slaying Morcar.


    ¡°Do you know of Morcar?¡± He asked of the enchanter several days just before the rain began to fall, all about them, the day bright with Remus traipsing about and burrowing his nose into the rations much to the irritation of Gwilherm who chased him away, with an annoyed wave of his hand. Thinking this a game, the dog raced on over to him, only to race a little too close to his horse who snorted irritably also, not that the dog minded as he raced past with a huff and a cheeky grin.


    They had left the road once been built by the Romalians (not that there was almost any of it left of it, because of Balthrorth¡¯s destruction of the roads), the ground being slick with mud and water. The route had curved upwards so that they traveled across forests and fields uphill, with the group of them having long since left behind any hint of farmlands. As Mt-Sorg was so greatly dreaded, none dared to venture thither, neither brigands nor peasants or warriors, with the wood near it of good quality, and largely untouched.


    ¡°Aye.¡± Ealhstan affirmed eyes upon the darkened woods, his nostrils flared as he scratched at his elbow fearfully, ¡°I do not much like how even the rodents and wolves dare not tread near here.¡±


    ¡°What have you heard of him?¡±


    ¡°Why do you ask?¡± Now the old man sounded utterly contemptuous of him.


    ¡°I-¡± Here the youth had no goodly answer, only that he wished to dispel himself of all doubts and anxieties by distracting his mind from the present danger that haunted the whole of the Sorgwoods. ¡°I simply wish to know my enemy, the one I will have to combat after I have slain Balthrorth.¡±


    At his words a snort was heard from all three of the others, with Vladin¡¯s in particular echoing in the quiet of the rain which continued to patter atop the hoods of their cloaks, and soak them to the point of misery. None wished to tread for too much longer, though they had the desire to simply retreat one and all. Even the enchanter¡¯s teeth were by this time clattering together for fear of the inevitable wrath of the dragon.


    It was thus agreed that they would try to find themselves a tree to duck under for the night, and to continue on the morrow in the morn¡¯, with Ealhstan taking some time to answer the harpist¡¯s question. ¡°Morcar the Traitor many call him however others call him the ¡®Reluctant¡¯ for the reluctance with which he has agreed to the sacrifice of his daughters. I met him but once and I might well have dubbed him by another title, were it my decision rather than that of another.¡±


    ¡°By what name would you know him?¡± Roparzh questioned swallowing his bit of mouldy cheese with some difficulty, eyes ablaze with nervousness and curiosity. He was more than a little annoyed, when Remus leapt over at his hand, having been waiting in the shadows behind him, so that he took the cheese in a single bite. This earned him a cry of frustration and anger from the knight, only for the dog to race away, tail in the air before he settled down next to the heir of R¨¦alwaldr with a contented sigh, cheese between his paws as he tore into it.


    ¡°Likely the ¡®Black-heart¡¯ Gwilherm sneered full of hatred for the man who had betrayed his brother.


    ¡°I doubt very much, any should dub him so,¡± Vladin spoke suddenly having finished his own supper just as the warriors nodded their heads furiously full of hate for the treacherous lord who was one of the principal reasons, for their presence there.


    ¡°Why ever not?¡± The question felt torn from the lips of the youth, who raised an angry brow at his oldest friend present herewith him.


    ¡°Because any man who loses his children, as the saying goes amongst my people, merits not hatred or contempt but pity.¡± The Dwarf informed so softly.


    None of those surrounding him said a word, not to contradict nor support the view of the shortest member of their troop. Grinding his teeth together, Gwilherm felt so full of red-hot fury that he could hardly hear any further of the words of his companions, for he could not understand how anyone could pity his kinsman¡¯s eternal foes. Not after all that they had done to the R¨¦alwaldr, so great was his fury that he fell to brooding for some time before he at last uttered at his friend.


    ¡°I doubt that he very much loved his children,¡± He told the other man.


    The Dwarf gave him an astonished if pitying glance, it was Ealhstan who spoke up to counter his complaint, ¡°Oh young Gwilherm, who has never held a child or even a pup or kitten in his arms, you know not what you say. It is for their children that parents give up all, and give all unto.¡±


    Roparzh put an end to the argument preferring to remind them of the importance of sleep. ¡°-We have a long day to-morrow, and could all use rest.¡±


    ¡°What of watch-duties?¡± Vladin wondered shooting a consternated glance all about them, at the surrounding dark-woods.


    To which a small clatter of laughter arose from all about him, before they all settled in for sleep. Even the Dwarf looked embarrassed by the folly of his own question, given how unlikely it was that anything should sneak up on them. The only concern lay in the dragon, but as Ealhstan explained it, there was little a watch could do to save them from the beast given how dragons were the fastest flight-capable beasts alive. And that given the age of some of the oaks and ash-trees all about them, it was highly unlikely that Balthrorth was interested in burning down the woods. Quite why was a mystery to the good-brother of the King, not that he bothered to ask the others about this, so tired was he. The great fatigue that wore over him was such that not only did he forget his query instantly but from the moment he closed his eyes, he felt himself slip into the darkness of sleep. All that he felt in his dreams was the sound, from his childhood of Eadwin humming a tune, some sort of nursery rhyme that their mother had loved to sing to them. It brought a smile to the youth¡¯s lips.


    *****


    The first thing that alerted Gwilherm to the fact that something was amiss was the sound of Vladin¡¯s cursing and the sound of hooves striking the ground. Alarmed to full wakefulness, the alarmed warrior was on his feet in an instant sword almost in hand in a heartbeat. Where he was on his feet at once, Ealhstan and Remus slowly rose to consciousness, both blinking stupidly as they yawned.


    Kneeling in the filthy mud as one of the knights could be seen galloping back the way they had come, Vladin shook his fist at the departing figure¡¯s back. At first neither Ealhstan nor Gwilherm could discern which of the two Neustrian-trained warriors it was; Galen or Roparzh. However it was not long before they could tell that it was the elder of the two. This realisation shook them as surely as it enraged the Dwarf.


    ¡°Come back here, you filthy knave!¡± He yelled after the man, just as the knight disappeared from sight which was not very far given how the late night rain had transformed into early morning fog.


    Blinded by this mist the heroes stared for a long time after the departed Roparzh, struck dumb by his cowardice. All save for Vladin who of course continued to curse for some time- not only in the Brittian speech they all knew so well, but in his native tongue. The Dwarvish language he spoke in sounded both crude and jagged to the ears, of the unfamiliar Brittians.


    Only Ealhstan appeared shocked by his words, apparently having learnt the language in his travels, so that he paled at the sound of certain words that fell from his comrade¡¯s lips. This flurry of cursing escalated when the man in question, noticed how muddied his hose had become and wiped furiously at the wool-cloth in a gesture that struck all as a particularly futile gesture. Especially given how much mud still clung to his clothing.


    ¡°Do not tell me that you planned to do much the same, Doalkthwin!?¡± Vladin screamed in a fury at the frozen Galen who blinked at him, amazed by his disrespectful. The tone of his eyes made the newly awoke Remus anxious, as he whimpered and slid behind Gwilherm, to hide behind him whining noisily throughout the whole of the argument. So that the heart of the noble bled for him, as he patted his head in an attempt to comfort, the stricken pup.


    Ealhstan gasped at this last word, with Gwilherm unable to resist the temptation of asking him what it meant, with the enchanter shaking his head in response to the question. It took three promptings from the youthful noble, before he at last did as he was bidden and answered if rather more vaguely than how the younger of the two might have otherwise preferred. ¡°I dare not repeat such a thing! O Gwilherm! It is not the sort of thing one may repeat. Even you might attempt such a thing, if you only knew the gravity of what he had just accused, the sir knight of!¡±


    Bewildered by this lack of a proper explanation, on the part of his friend, Gwilherm might well have reacted vociferously, but he could see that as Vladin panted Galen¡¯s own wrath grew. The knight could understand well-enough that he had been insulted in some way. His honour impugned something which no man of any true note could very well tolerate, especially one of the Neustrian warriors sworn to iron-armed Aymon. ¡°How dare you speak to him in such a manner, Dwarf, you may think me a knave and coward as Roparzh has just shown himself to be however I am no such thing myself! I am the noblest of all those, who have sworn themselves to Aymon! I gladly came into exile to this backwater place to serve him; at the request of my beloved liege ¨¦luan therefore you will grant me the utmost respect, o Dwarf!¡±


    ¡°Not if you were the last of the smith-lords of olde!¡± Vladin spat referring to the ancient faith of the Dwarves one that many in the lands of North-Agenor had forgotten. This spoke to the century of life that he had borne witness to, and to the rumour that he had once travelled to the Dwarven colonies in South-Agenor. Colonies that had been abandoned millennia ago, when the Empire had fallen in the aftermath of the ¡®War of the Jewels and Green-Skins¡¯ with the ¡®Smith-lords¡¯ the first Dwarves taken in by Khnum and Prometheus and taught the art it is said of metal-working.


    ¡°You dare to refer impugn my honour in such a manner, Vladin Builder?¡± The fury in his voice came close to choking them from escaping, from his mouth.


    ¡°I dare and more-¡±


    ¡°You cannot, Vladin!¡± Gwilherm shouted with such fury that his friend was struck dumb now once more, prepared to all but assist the knight in beating his friend. This in spite of his fury at Roparzh, for he may have despised the cowardice of the knight but this did not offend him near as much as such lack of piety on the part of his friend. ¡°You know not what you say, in this moment!¡±


    ¡°Mayhaps I do, far more than any here know, for how could we continue on this quest with one warrior less than when we began this adventure?¡± Vladin demanded impatiently of his friend, motioning to the elder knight with one hand, ¡°For all your talk of bravery, shaming Gwilherm here for his cowardice, you have yet to demonstrate near as much valour as he has!¡±


    ¡°Be silent knave!¡± Was the only warning he received from the human from Neustria before he stepped up to the non-human, to smite him with one mighty blow of his fist that sent him back off his feet, and near face-first into the mud he had just risen from.


    Spluttering and with his cheek already bruising, Vladin stared up in shock at the terrible Neustrian, who loomed over him just as Ealhstan pulled Gwilherm over to him, hissing as he did so. ¡°You cannot let him do this!¡±


    ¡°Do what?¡±


    ¡°You must protect your friend, Gwilherm, I know not why you have not already hurried to his defence; however honour demands that as he has always stood by you, you must do so in turn.¡± The wise-words of the enchanter echoed for some time in his mind¡¯s eye, as he considered this point and felt a deep sense of shame burn through his heart. How could he forget, in his anger all that the Dwarf had done for him? He asked himself, if Vladin might well have hesitated to aid him as he had just done, still though some of the anger within his soul continued to smoulder. He detested the reference to the ¡®old-smiths¡¯ of the Dwarves just as he detested the Arnish faith of the Northmen.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Very well,¡± He grunted reluctantly, still rather hesitant if for a slightly different reason now that he had agreed to aid his friend; he was still afraid of Galen. A man physically stronger than he, or so Gwilherm thought and who had always appeared like all the bullies and courtiers at court, to loom over him. Almost shyly at first, when he spoke up his voice did not reach the ears of the Neustrian, but rather he spoke thence a second time, in a louder voice that sounded foreign to his own ears. So angry and thunderous did it sound that he felt tempted, to look about him in search of the man who had just spoken, just as Galen and Ealhstan did, their eyes falling upon him as they gaped. ¡°Leave him be Galen! You will not lay another hand upon him, regardless his heresy!¡±


    ¡°Quoi?¡± Galen uttered as he studied the other man, in dumb confusion a reaction that was likewise shared by Vladin.


    ¡°Lo! At last some courage out of you,¡± Ealhstan cheered jovially hopping up and down once he had recovered from his shock, as he laughed at some length. Wagging a finger at Galen he reprimanded him for several minutes, ¡°Now you see sieur Galen? You shan¡¯t be bullying those lesser than yourself, less you awaken the fury of some great man than yourself!¡±


    Despite his anger Gwilherm truly wished the other man could have fallen silent rather than goading the other man, who continued to stare between them. Evidently confused and stupefied by what had possessed all those around him, to cause them to rise up against him. ¡°What is this nonsense about an equal? You cannot mean Gwilherm here, who is infamous for his cowardice!¡±


    ¡°Cowardice! Always that word, always that insult against my honour!¡± He shouted seized by a kind of madness that drew once more the stares of all those about him. Shaking and trembling, his fear, his sense of betrayal at the departure of Roparzh and outrage at Vladin¡¯s heresy, all seemed to curl up and explode outwards in a ball of emotions that appeared to his mind¡¯s eye as  a terrible inferno. He might well have liked to otherwise take the time, to calm himself were he elsewhere, such as in the temple of his friend the druid of Auldchester, or at the King¡¯s court in one of his many fine estates. However, he had no such fortune at that moment as he squawked at the other man. ¡°How am I the coward, when it is a knight who has just fled? Does this not prove that any man, can be a coward?¡±


    ¡°No, as it was merely our duty to escort you this far, to ensure that you do not flee, as you are ever so likely to decide to do,¡± Was the counter-argument one that served only to nettle the younger man still further.


    Later he was to deem this action the height of madness, the most foolish thing he had ever done in all his years. It was to prove an act, so utterly ridiculous that he later cursed his own folly and youth, for it was these qualities that pushed him to turn his heels and to begin stomping down the path towards Mt-Sorg. Doing so with a great cry over his shoulder, he in his rage believed this to be so, thus the belief only lasted for a short time, ¡°Verily I shall prove to you and all of my good-brother¡¯s people, Galen that it is not I the coward! And you shall return to court, to report that I demonstrated every ounce of bravery that Aymon or L¨¦on might well have, had it been they upon this quest!¡± Then he added when he noticed Remus shaking, and looking prepared to bound after him, something that he could not allow, in the name of the love he bore the barely two year old pup. ¡°Vladin hold him and do not allow him to follow me, for I would have Remus outlive me this day.¡±


    The Dwarf did as bidden and held Remus back, as the large half-mastiff yelped, wept and shrieked at being held back from him. His cries bringing manly tears to the eyes of the man restraining what he knew was a son, crying out to his father not to leave him, with the pup utterly destroyed by this terrible abandonment. Sensing the danger that lay up above their heads, inside of the mountain, the noblest of the King¡¯s hounds sobbed brokenly, sobbed as Gwilherm had once done when he was separated from his own father, and then years later, when this event was repeated with him and his brother. This sound echoed deeply inside of the heart of the warrior, despite his rage as a part of him wished to turn back, if for no other reason than to reassure the canine, and to hold his head against his chest, as all men who love these noble-beasts wish to do when they are in pain.


    Staring for quite some time after him, none of the three he left behind him said or cried out anything after him. He later learnt that the first to recover was Vladin, who had laughed a little almost madly so, before he had regained his feet to hurry after him. But he (accompanied by Ealhstan) did not catch up to him for quite some time, for he did not advance slowly as was his previous wont on this quest. No, he was now determined to reach the great cavern where the dragon lay at rest the darkened skies loomed over all of the land of Estria, whilst the stench of brimstone and pine intermingled in his nostrils. The disgusting combination entirely the fault of the forest, and of the mountain with the brimstone stench overpowering the other the nearer he drew, to the resting place of Balthrorth, his mind hardly near there as it dwelt instead upon the past. Upon the humiliations did his spirit rest dwell upon and all he had endured, so that bitterness arose in his breast, bitterness against all those he knew in Auldchester.


    So gnarled and inward was his focus that he hardly noticed, his arrival before the small cleft in the mountain that served as a ¡®road¡¯ up it, and into the great and dark cavern. Nor did he noticed his own difficulties in scaling it, at least not at first, with it being a rock that saved him from misery when he tripped over it and nearly tumbled down twenty meters to the ground below him.


    Reminded of the importance of focusing his attention on the matter at hand, and not on his own internal complaints about his lot in life, and how unappreciated he was. Gwilherm turned now his attention to the route and to the stones that seemed to cover and pepper the upwards leading road. A sigh of despair escaped him, as he studied it as he felt a great deal of dislike for this path, not only would he have otherwise had to abandon any horse or pony he had brought with him. Climbing with greater care than before, he let his anger egg him forth still even as he strove to walk, climb and crawl up the side of the mountain with greater care.


    As he grew calmer, his thoughts were weighed down not by fury now, but by a combination of anxious uncertainty of whether he was going to soon hear the great roar that had haunted his nightmares, every night since he had set out from Auldchester. If it were not for his gauntlets, he might well have started to chew his nails so worried was he, however his smouldering anger towards Galen remained still, pushing him onwards farther than even he had expected.


    The great mountain Sorg, was the largest in Estria, and was part of a small chain of them, with this one laying the most south-west of them all. It was a dark thing jutting up out of the ground, with an air of unnaturalness to it and the dark composition of burnt ashes after a terrible fire. Proof that it was indeed the home, of the evil dragon who was the doom of all good men and fair maidens of Estria, with Ealhstan having spoken of how beautiful the mountain where Arndryck the Younger lived on the Continent, when he had discussed dragons a few days prior. The notion that dragons could conjure up beauty from anything, or somehow add it to the local wild-life and world boggled Gwilherm¡¯s mind. For he could not imagine, anything more dreadful than the great wyrms created by the ancient ¡®god¡¯ (or what the Temple believed to be a demon) the Drago-Father, of whom all dragons know of and speak reverently (or fearfully) of.


    It was only as he swept up the road, around the side of the mountain so that he now stood along the east-face of the road that lay to the exterior of the cavern of Balthrorth. It was only thence that he could peek into the cavern, with the first response of the warrior being to stare in dumbfounded horror. It was at least twice to thrice the size of ?thelwulf¡¯s castle in Auldchester, with the cavern so dark that the darkened skies the night prior appeared positively sun-soaked in comparison.


    Daunted beyond measure, Gwilherm studied the darkness hopeful that his eyes might well adjust however they did not appear to. Swallowing audibly, he studied the entrance and found that the lowest point was at about waist-height for him.


    ¡°I must be brave,¡± He said to himself taking comfort in the sound of his own voice no matter how it trembled so, ¡°I will not perish here. I must survive for Elena¡¯s sake if no other.¡±


    The reminder of his sister, of how she had a duty to her and the grief she had shown at their parting, almost made him turn back rather than push forward into the cavern of the wyrm. Swallowing again, he jumped a little pressing his heads upon the lower-mouth of the cave, pulling himself up onto the cleft over the course of several minutes so that he was kneeling in the entrance of it. Huffing and puffing a little he pulled his legs up and was on his feet once again, mind awhirl with the realisation that he was soon to find himself face to face with his brother¡¯s killer.


    The horror, the panic and somehow the exhilaration that came with this knowledge was more than he knew what to do with. He could not penetrate into his own soul, to discover why he felt such impatience to see the beast and attempt his hand at vengeance upon it, when he knew he could not possibly defeat it. It was similar to how Gwilherm could not discern through the darkness he now trod through, and yet the dark of Balthrorth¡¯s heart was of a far more comforting nature than his own spirit was. For what man, enjoys plumbing the deeps of his own self in search of the darkest and most tenebrous corners of himself?


    ¡°I do this for Elena¡­ I do this for her; I do this for Elena¡­¡± He continued to repeat to himself over and over again, under his breath. Certain that it was all that kept him moving as he walked across the stony cavern, past the charred remains, armour, arms and bones of all those who had attempted before he to bring down the Dread of Estria. The army of bones that littered the floor crunched beneath his feet, with such repetition that where they had initially horrified him he now gave it little thought as he moved towards the corner of the darkened entrance ¡®hall¡¯. This ¡®hall¡¯ of a sorts appeared he realised to stand between the nest of Balthrorth and the mountain exterior which he had just left behind him.


    Around the corner there appeared a thin trail of light, or to be more exact the hint of light glittering off of the vast treasures that surely lay within. Treasures that Gwilherm could only have imagined, not that they were to be any great consolation as he was to die in the next few minutes, a certainty that only grew with each breath he took and step further inside. Notably when he heard his voice echo off the walls of the cavern, so that he had no doubt that the dragon would hear his voice.


    This made him squirm, as he felt horrified by how loudly his voice seemed to boom off the walls of the cavern. The gold and treasures did indeed glitter he noticed, very finely really and there was more treasure than he had originally envisioned, this stood out to him as did the near-mountain of treasure and gold that were so plentiful in the cavern before him that he could no more see the floor than he could turn back. He had never seen so much wealth, so much abundance as there were emeralds, ceruleans, rubies, and other gemstones and coin all about the cave. Staring from around a corner of the cave, he could see that to keep the jewels from overflowing outwards into the entrance, Balthrorth had dug deeper into the interior of the mountain so that there was a ten meter- no he realised; it had to be closer to fifteen meters deep! To fall from that height onto the gold would prove disastrous for a human, even if it was nothing to a dragon.


    The drop was one that he might otherwise have felt a burst of worry about, were it not for the simple rickety, rotted through wooden ladder off to one side. This pleased and relieved him, even as he asked of himself; ¡®why would a dragon necessitate a ladder?¡¯ it was a question that he was to learn later in his quest. For at that moment, he also murmured the name of his beloved sister, reminding himself that she was his only true ally and friend, and reason to live.


    ¡°Yes?¡± He nearly missed a step climbing down the ladder, at the sudden sound of a female voice, from farther inside just as he climbed down the ladder looking about himself, his eyes settled upon a single point which was the only corner of the cave which lacked gold and jewels near it. Off to the western side of the cave from where he stood, Gwilherm could see three large poles dug into the ground with chains attached to them. With the poles being about his own height and ending in sudden, spiked summits. Attached to the three poles were three maidens all of whom had but eyes for him, something that alarmed and immediately made him draw nearer.


    For much as he feared death at the claws of the dragon, he knew his duty to be to rescue the trio of maidens. One was doubtlessly the daughter of a merchant or clergyman, one of a farmer and the last Morcar¡¯s daughter. The difficulty lay in discerning at once which was which, as all three had been richly dressed in the finest wool Estria could gather with all three dressed in white as though they were prepared to be married rather than sacrificed.


    Glancing about the large cave as he drew nearer to them, he noticed how the dragon was absent. Something that was rather noticeable given how large and terrible it likely was, with this optimistic thought in his heart, he asked as he drew near to the ladies, ¡°Where is the dragon?¡±


    His voice sounded louder than he had originally wished it to appear, with the three maids studying him with keen interest. One was dark-haired, slender, and green-eyed while being dressed in a dirty white robe, the next was thin as a rail with chestnut hair, similarly coloured eyes and had an aura of haughtiness which made him at once think she was Elena daughter of Morcar. As to the third lady, she was the youngest, what with how the first two appeared to be in about their seventeenth or eighteenth year she could not be any older than fourteen. She was the shortest (though not by much as the dark-haired lady was quite short), and had dark-blonde hair, a buck-toothed grin and a frantic if impatient air about her. Blonde with brown eyes, she struck Gwilherm as the most pitiable of the three, and he was reminded of his niece Mildred. One of the few of his sister¡¯s children that he was truly fond of (though she was about six years old), and at that moment he determined to save these lasses regardless of the risk to his own life.


    ¡°Hurry!¡± Pressed the youngest of the trio, her voice high and shrill not unlike that of a chipmunk, or so he imagined.


    ¡°I need but a moment, milady,¡± Gwilherm retorted searching about their feet only to find bones and torn bits of cloth, the sight of both made him shudder a little.


    ¡°Go away!¡± Snapped the long-faced chestnut haired girl, evidently displeased to see him and his fumbling attempts to save them, ¡°And just where are, you looking?¡±


    ¡°There is no key, sirrah the druid¡¯s assistant took it with him when he left,¡± The dark-haired lady said guessing at his intentions, looking every bit as frightened as the other two ladies.


    In spite of this she attempted to put up a brave-face, something that immediately earned her the admiration if reluctantly so of the heir of R¨¦alwaldr. As there was no key to assist him in the freeing of the trio of ladies, Gwilherm had no other choice but to study the chains.


    They were rusty-brown and a collection of circles that tied the three sacrifices¡¯ wrists above their heads so that none of them could go very far. The links of the chains did not appear to be in particularly good condition, doubtlessly the locals had not reinforced them in some time, he guessed not with how rarely they visited. Or so Gwilherm guessed, as he removed his sword from his scabbard eyes on the iron of the first chain.


    Though she was the prettiest, he decided not to rescue the dark-hair girl chained to the central pole, much as he might have liked to rescue her first. He knew his duty, and that as the child the buck-toothed girl required rescue the most. Sucking in a breath, he ignored the angry squawks of chestnut hair and focused upon the young maid swiping as he did so with one mighty strike, at the chain-links.


    The iron to his glee shattered into pieces resulting in the young man ordering the young girl, ¡°Fly, fly away from this place!¡±


    She did not need him to repeat his cry, as she swept away towards the cavern mouth, with the next girl he freed being the dark-haired woman who gave him a brilliant white smile that might have at any other time have sent his heart aflutter and made him feel flirtatious. However at that moment, all he did was slice at the iron once again, though this time the girl did not flee at once, even when pressed.


    ¡°I shan¡¯t leave without you, kind sirrah!¡± She replied to his urgings, her voice echoing with something in the back of Gwilherm¡¯s mind telling him that this was not exactly the truth.


    Shaking his head, he turned to the last girl he had to free, with the girl shrieking at him, ¡°No! No! Do not! Go away, I am a sacrifice!¡±


    ¡°Why do you shriek and kick up at me so?¡± Gwilherm demanded furiously, as he resisted the urge to slap her quite thoroughly to knock some sense back into her, as his sister had once done to him when he was young and had refused to cross the Waldr river.


    ¡°Because-¡±


    ¡°Gwilherm! Hurry! Why do you tarry so by that girl, cut her chains and flee!¡± Vladin¡¯s voice could be heard screaming, at the same time that there was the sound of Remus barking madly, from the corner of the cavern from when the Brittian had come from.


    Ordinarily the Dwarf might well have been smitten by the sight of such treasures and wealth all ripe for the plucking. However, his cry was followed by a great roar that shook the whole of the cavern, from top to bottom. Whereas the dog stood upon the precipice held back by the Dwarf, with one hand upon his collar, as best he could whilst the mutt resisted as best he could. Evidently keen to rejoin Gwilherm to fight by side against the monster that inhabited the huge cavern.


    So great was the fear that dominated them then that Gwilherm thought of nothing more than smashing the chain from the pole and taking flight now himself. The sound of air roaring and snap of wings echoed throughout the chamber, a clear signal that Balthrorth had returned. Full of cowardice, a greater sense of it than when he fled from the battle near the Cymran Marches, Gwilherm was by the ladder in an instant and pushing the dark-haired girl who had tarried but for a moment amongst the treasures until he grabbed her by the wrist.


    Pushing her up and out of the nest, he soon followed before he noticed there was something amiss, something that Vladin was swift to point out. ¡°Wait! The girl! She is still there!¡±


    ¡°We shan¡¯t leave her here!¡± The dark-haired girl cried out full of worry and terror herself now.


    ¡°It is too late,¡± Ealhstan said sorrow in his voice.


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°You have doomed us all!¡± Screamed the chestnut haired girl, who refused to budge from the pole, she had once been chained to. As she tarried there, she beat her chest with a fury that alarmed and frightened the warrior when he stopped to glance over his shoulder at her, divided between his fear and his unfinished task, ¡°We are the chosen, we must be sacrificed and once we are, we will achieve Elysium! May the gods curse you to misery, failure and an early death!¡±


    The ensuing roar drowned out the rest of her words, with this being the moment that decided things for Gwilherm who had just stumbled as one of the steps of the ladder gave out beneath him. With the dark-haired lass and Ealhstan grabbing him to pull him up, just as the snap of the wings drew closer and the roar that followed frightened all into action.


    Pausing but briefly by the curve in the cavern, in time to see the end of the chestnut haired girl, as she was devoured whole by the terrible drake of Estria.


    This sight remained for some time with Gwilherm who regretted it to the end of his days; it was true that he had always been a bitter man. However, he had begun to take his duties seriously and begun to take pride in his abilities especially in those last moments, as he was freeing the three maidens. And yet, he had failed one and even earned the curse of one of them, this worried and plagued his conscious.