Fateful Voyage; A Tale of Albion (7 parts) (DAoC)

[Morreion]

This was an attempt at a long adventure story cycle, centered around Caddan, a Percival Highlander alt. Somehow it all fell into place as it went along. Thank the Muses!

He lay upon the grass, trying to rise, but falling back down heavily to his hands and knees. He was weary, making even the pain a distant thing. He looked over and saw his notched broadsword beside him, reached out, and gripped the hilt.

The familiar feel reassured him.

He rolled over and laid upon his back, staring into the sky. It all slowly came back to him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears; he felt feverish.

"I remember", he said to himself through cracked lips, thinking back to the beginning. Suddenly it wasn't his heartbeat pounding, but bells, a great tolling and clanging...

I

The bells pealed, ringing loudly across the city of Camelot. Inside the Holy Church, the very center of the Realm of Albion, many richly-clad bodies were packed one next to the other, all kneeling, abasing themselves towards the altar as the Bishop blessed them all in a loud voice, nearly drowned out by the bells sounding above them all in the cathedral towers.

Caddan McClannad knelt, close by other men-at-arms in one of the back rows. He wore the cloak and surcoat of the Brotherhood of Griffins, and the Templar Cross that showed he was a Paladin. He was a young brown-haired Highlander with striking blue eyes, and a face quick to smile; and smiling he was, looking at his friend Sheymus next to him, who was winking at him and gesturing at a comely lass in a purple robe in front of them. Caddan shook his head, and once again looked towards the floor to try to pray; but he kept on grinning nonetheless.

The crowd was there to be blessed for an upcoming voyage, a voyage to extend the power of Albion in the name of Arthur Rex. There was a curious mix of people in the Church that day, many of them men-at-arms and Clerics, Highland Griffons like Caddan; but there were also a smattering of Britons, Mages or Elementalists mostly, a scattering of Scouts, and here and there, a lean Saracen Infiltrator, inevitably dressed in somber colors.

And then the Bishop finished his prayer, and all rose to their feet. The bells had stopped ringing, leaving a vast silence that was almost as deafening to Caddan's ears. Councilor Shaw strode up to the dais, impeccably dressed in an ermine-fringed robe, his medallion of office around his neck.

"I see many proud man and woman of Albion here this day", he said in a clear voice, echoing through the ancient Church. "And like the good Bishop, I wish to add my voice in praying for your success, and eventual safe return."

Shaw went on talking, as Sheymus nudged Caddan. Caddan ignored the big bluff Highlander, but was nudged again, twice. Finally he looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye, to see Sheymus lean over and whisper "Bet ye a mug a ale I bed her". Caddan kept his face carefully neutral as he whispered back, "A beauty like her'd sooner bed a decrepit but rich Duke" and Sheymus chortled until he was kicked by Red Donald in the row behind him. The lady in purple probably did not hear them, Caddan thought, thankful for small favors. The heat from the packed bodies in the Church was stifling.

Eventually the Councilor was done, and all filed out of the great Church of Albion; the sky was clear, deep blue, and the Brotherhood of the Griffon gathered across the way, Highlanders young and old, resplendent in their blue surcoats, surcoats that Caddan knew would be splashed with all manner of alcohol before too much longer. He joined a small group of companions, Sheymus and Red Donald among them, and they all strode down the cobbled street towards Ye Mug.

The inn was crowded and boisterous; they took a table near the back, after dragging a passed-out sot off of it and laying him on the floor. "Hey, hey!" a saucy Briton lass called out, carrying a tray of mugs, "Out to the street with that one!" as Carfryd laughed and dragged the insensible man towards the door.

They drank into the eve, telling tall tales, speculating on the fighting they might see, wondering what being on a ship, a big ship, would be like. Sheymus had pulled the saucy serving lass into his lap and was kissing her neck as she squealed when Caddan first noticed the man in the corner, alone, a wineglass in his hand.

The man was a Briton, with a trimmed beard and mustache; he was dressed richly, in a fine tunic and dashing cloak. He looked familiar...the man noticed his stare and motioned him over to his table. Caddan rose and took his mug over, turning back to grin as Sheymus was bopped over the head with a serving tray, and the room roared with laughter. He sat down, across from the man.

"Ahhh, a Brave Griffon", the man grinned, leaning back and signaling for two more drinks. "You were at Hurbury, then?" His voice was urbane, cultured.

"Aye" Caddan replied, remembering the retaking of Caer Hurbury three moons ago. Glory and Honor, the words rang once more in his mind, as they stormed the battlements...he suddenly knew who the man was. "Councilor Merton".

Merton chuckled and drank the last of his wine.
"Ex-Councilor is a more appropriate term." He nodded and smiled to the serving girl as she brought another glass and another mug. "It seems we will be shipmates" he said. Caddan set down his mug. "Shipmates?" he said. "Yes," Merton leaned in closer to the Paladin; Caddan realized the man was drunk. "Do you find it strange that I would be joining you?"

In truth, Caddan thought it strange. Merton had been removed from the Council not long ago, for alleged 'improprieties', though wild rumors flew about just what had happened. "Certainly you noticed more than a few troublemakers at the Church today?" the ex-Councilor continued. "Outcasts, the inconvenient...even the unfortunately brave, such as the Brotherhood of the Griffon?"

Caddan thought he knew what the man meant. The Griffons, young Highland upstarts, had outshone the Regent's own Golden Lions that day at Hurbury, causing many a scuffle since. He drank, and looked at Merton.

The ex-councilor raised his wineglass. "Surely you don't think that we were chosen for the expedition because of our honor!" Merton laughed, and leaned back once more, smiling. "Young Highlander, this voyage is our death sentence." He drank down his wine swiftly, while the revelry continued around them.

[Morreion]

II

The next morn, there was many a hangover gathered around the East Gate of Camelot. Horses were being readied for the journey in the large courtyard; Brave Griffons strode or staggered around upon the grass, depending upon their state of consciousness.

In the nearby hamlet of Cotswold, not far from the great drawbridge, was a modest inn. Upstairs, Caddan looked out the window of a modest room, and after washing from a basin in the corner, pulled on his tunic, and buckled his swordbelt on.

Trema sat upon the bed, drawing off her nightgown and pulling her breeches on. Caddan watched her with a slight smile as he laced his boots; he enjoyed watching his love dress.

As she stood up to button her top, he took her in his arms once more and kissed her lingeringly. She responded, and then when the kiss ended, she smiled and tightened his swordbelt for him.

"Was hopin' ye'd take it off again, like ye did last night." Caddan's eyes lit as he leaned forward to hiss her hair. "None a that now, Caddan McClannad", laughed Trema, her red hair tumbling free down her back. "Yer already late, an' I don't want ya branded a deserter for one more fling in tha bed!"

"Twould be worth it lass," Caddan said in a low voice. They smiled at each other, and kissed one last time, a gentle, slow kiss.

They gathered up his gear and walked down the narrow stairs, walking out of the Inn towards the East Gate of the capitol.

Several Griffons halloed at Trema, she being a popular Highland lass, known for standing toe to toe with Caddan in arguments and tongue-lashing every fool in sight, which when the Griffons were around, seemed to be many. They loved her feisty spirit as much as Caddan did. Caddan noticed Merton off to one side, dressed in an elegant riding outfit, attended by a servant; the men nodded wordlessly at each other.

As he readied his horse, Trema gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Bring 'im back to me in one piece now," she said to the Griffons. A chorus of shouts assured her they would, and Caddan kissed her one last time and mounted up, moving out with the column of riders moving out the East Gate.

The day was a fair one, and they made good time, crossing Prydwen Bridge and heading towards the Salisbury Plains.

Caddan rode with his group of friends, in the main body with the Griffons. They boasted, they lied, they joked; the usual fare of Highland conversation.

When they stopped to water the horses and stretch their legs at West Downs, Caddan noticed some stony looks from the Briton guards and merchants there. As he fed his horse, his mind wandered to what his father had told him when he had come into his maturity.

His father had told him the night he had left Humberton to take service in Camelot: "Don't let them in the City look down upon ye as a brute as some a those fancy-pants Brits are wont ta do. Be proud a who ye are, and what ye serve. Be loyal and honorable, and show them what it means ta be a Highlander, a man of his word."

He had striven to follow his father's advice; as a guard stared at him, he smiled and nodded his head. The guard turned away, and Caddan laughed. "That one there by the trough, looks like he keeps his spear up his arse" he told Sheymus, who was drinking from his wineskin and blew a froth of wine out of his nose as he choked with laughter. Red Donald yelled for a Cleric, and the Griffons nearby broke into loud laughter.

'See how they like the laughter,' thought Caddan. But he knew the difference between a good and a miserable man had nothing to do with his race, and everything to do with what was inside of him.

They continued on, across the Plains, stretching on for miles. Caddan saw the faint outlines of the standing stones of the fabled Barrows in the distance, shimmering in the noonday heat.

"What be the name a the bloody boat we are takin' agin?" a voice called out from behind him.

" 'Lyonesse Victory' , of the Regent's Fleet" another answered.

"They have an inn aboard, do they?"

"Jest what they need, half the Highlanders fallin' overboard!"

A laugh broke out up and down the line of horses.

By mid-afternoon, they had passed the great cairns where the undead roam at night, and then a tower was visible off to the left of the road, and a great line of trees stretched out as far as the eye could see in front of them.

"Campacorentin Forest," Caddan said to no one in particular.

The forest was very dense, very large; full of strange beings, giant spiders, ruins, and Arthur knew what else. Fortunately, the road, although narrower in the wood, was well-worn. Caddan felt the air cool around him as they passed under the trees; he inhaled the damp, moldy, ancient smell.

As they rode, Caddan was suddenly aware of a horse and rider that had joined the party; a featureless figure, dressed in woodsman's green and brown, with hood raised. What looked like a wolf followed the horse. Some nearby horses whinnied and shied away.

"Hunt, Wolf," the rider said, and the animal bounded off into the woods. Caddan realized the rider was a woman.

After a while, as evening swiftly approached in the dark wood, lights were visible up ahead."That be Ulfwych!" Red Donald cried, relief obvious in his voice. Many of the Highlanders felt uneasy in the wood as night closed in upon them.

The tower and castle of Caer Ulfwych stood in a clearing at a fork in the road ahead, its torchlit battlements revealing a few guardsmen, a woodsman or two returning with fresh kills slung over their shoulders, and several adventurers clad in bright outfits. Ulfwych was the nearest settlement to Keltoi Foghu, the deadly labyrinth away to the southeast. A small village with merchants had grown next to the castle; not a large place, but a welcome sight for a weary traveler not wishing to face the Forest at night.

As the party dismounted, trumpets were blown, and Lord Ulfwych himself appeared to greet them at the gates, and made arrangements to stable their mounts. They were welcomed into the courtyard, where there were basins of water set out to wash up. The castle Steward informed them of a dinner in the main hall to be held in their honor, and a small cheer went up from the Griffons, who never were ones to miss a free feed.

The dinner that night was more of a feast to Caddan's mind. Ale flowed, and there was venison and quail aplenty, plain fare to some, but satisfying to the Highlanders. The large room was set with extra tables and benches so that the whole party could fit; torches lit the room, and fireplaces blazed merrily. Talking and laughter filled the hall.

Suddenly, a man in the livery of Ulfwych stood and called out, "Livia! A tale!"

Heads turned, until all were looking upon the lass who had joined their party wordlessly in the forest; she was plainly dressed in woodsman's garb, and had been eating by herself in the corner. As she looked up, Caddan saw she was a Briton, plain of face, and seemed not used to the attention.

She spoke in a clear voice. "Good Thomas, you interrupt these Brave Griffons at their feast. None would be interested in a simple huntress's tale."

The man shook his head and smiled. "A simple huntress? I think not. Livia is well-known in the Forest, good Sirs, being of sharp eye and good wit. These gentlemen have not heard how you came to have a wolf from Midgard as a pet!"

There was a stir in the room as all there looked to see Livia; she reluctantly stood, and smiling briefly, she spoke:

"Good gentlemen, I will keep this short, as you have had a long journey, and would rather drink ale than attend to my ramblings. I am Livia, and have been a Scout in Albion's service for years now, finding the solitary life in the woodlands to my liking. I supply the towns and castles with what I bring down with my bow, and have occasionally taken service in the Frontier."

"It was on such a foray, not a year ago, that I found myself in the snowy wilds of Uppland, near Fensalir Faste, scouting out the forces of Midgard for a raid by the Golden Lions. Ever brash, they had wanted to strike the foe at Svasud Faste itself, the gateway to the Frontier for the northern races."

"I think I'm in love, Caddan McClannad" whispered Sheymus next to him. Caddan knew the reputation of the area she spoke about, and knew what kind of skill it took a lone Scout to penetrate all the way through Uppland.

"I had made a small snow-cave in the brush alongside a steep hill for shelter, and was leaving it to roam the area once more. I heard shouts and the clash of steel upon steel, and ran towards the sound. I saw a troop of Golden Lions fighting the foe, Norse and Trolls, in the snow. I slew two Norse who never saw me until my arrows bit deep."

"And then I saw the blood in the snow. I followed a trail to see a little Kobold lass, leaning against a tree; a mortal wound had caught her, and she was dying. She had dark purple skin, and I could not understand her words. But she smiled at me, and with the last strength she had left, she conjured up a wolf, as her kind are skilled to do. I raised my bow, but she pointed at me, and the wolf came to my side and stood there panting; I reached out and stroked its rough fur, and it licked my hand.

The Kobold Huntress laughed a bit, and then she died."

"Ever since, Wolf has been by my side, and a good hunting companion. The dying gift from one woman to another, so to speak." She drank from her mug, and scattered applause rang out for her tale, as others toasted her. "To womanhood! To Livia!"

After a round of drinking, Caddan felt tired, and climbed the stairs to find one of the rooms set aside for the Griffons. As he looked down the stone corridor, he saw a door open at the far end of the hall; a man was framed in the light of the doorway, and another figure joined him there. The figure walked out of the room, the door closing behind her. Caddan suddenly recognized the purple robe and cloak of the lass in the Church. As she walked by him, she gave him a smile; she was absolutely beautiful, blond hair spread over her shoulders, blue, penetrating eyes; and an air about her that bespoke...promise? Or was it mockery? She strode past him, and he smelled the scent of lilac. He turned to look, but she had gone into another room.

Caddan found a room, with two other Griffons already snoring off the feast upon the rushes on the floor. He lay down, removed his boots, and wrapped himself in his cloak.

He dreamed that night, and in the dream, he was at Hurbury once more. As the gate was breached, he raised his shield against the storm of arrows from the desperate defenders. He was one of the first to burst into the courtyard. Purple energy played over the Griffons who were charging wildly, the energy of Celtic magic, but it merely slowed them, their ferocity and the spells from their own Mages bolstering them. Caddan hacked down a shouting Celt armed with a maul. As the Griffons cleared the courtyard of Celts, the Golden Lions arrived and pushed through the gates. Caddan once more saw their commander, a fierce frown upon his face.

Suddenly, Councilor Merton was at his elbow, taking his sword arm, pointing towards a guard tower along the wall. Caddan ran into the tower, and he was confronted with a beautiful woman, her blond hair streaming, beckoning to him, a mocking smile upon her face...

Caddan sat up with a start, sweat upon his brow, realized he had been dreaming, and lay back down. Sleep eventually took him once more.

[Morreion]

III

The next day, they departed Ulfwych, and continued on, through the Forest.

Caddan kept a careful eye out upon the column; he saw Livia towards the front, riding with a pair of other Scouts. He rode back down the road, and pulled his horse up next to Merton and his servant. The Briton nodded politely at him.

He asked the man if he had seen the blonde woman in a purple outfit; Merton smiled faintly.

"I haven't seen her on the road; but I saw her in my chamber last eve. You speak of Lady Ulrika, otherwise known as the Ice Witch."

Caddan had heard the name; once rumored to be the Regent's consort, she had spun a web at Court very artfully, but the web was too complicated, eventually leading to her banishment. It was said that the Ice Witch was as ambitious as any Councilor or Bishop, with the additional weapon of her beauty. Men in high places had lost everything on a gamble for her affections. Some were no longer alive.

He didn't ask Merton about his visit with her; it was a man's own business, he figured, and Merton wasn't speaking about it. He wheeled back down the column, rejoining Sheymus, Red Donald, Carfryd and the rest.

By mid-day they had come out of the Forest, the willow trees and pools showed that they were at the edge of the Avalon Marshes. They stopped briefly at Adribard's Retreat to pay respects to Lord Adribard, and then rode to the Portal.

The Portal was a shimmering blue-white oval of energy. They rode through it, and instantly found themselves in Gothwaite Harbor.

Gothwaite was a bustling seaside town, full of merchants and dwellings, with ships pulled up to the piers. Castle Gothwaite, large and looming, looked down upon the port from atop a high hill.

They were met at the Portal by Sir Ward Wallace, Commander of the Brotherhood of the Griffons. He had been busy arranging supplies and berths for his men on the ship. The Griffons greeted the old Highlander heartily; he was a popular leader who knew each one of them, and always had time to speak to every man.

After a meal and short round of speeches at Castle Gothwaite, the Griffons and their fellow voyagers went down to the docks, to find their berths and stow their gear aboard their ship.

The 'Lyonesse Victory' was a large ship of three masts, painted red and blue. The Highlanders looked at her in awe, most not being familiar with ships or the sea. The ship was an impressive sight to them; but to those who knew their sailing vessels, she had seen long service, and was old. Her crew was mostly Britons and Saracens, smaller men with a peculiar swaying gait upon the land, indicating a life normally spent at sea. The last of the gear and provisions were being loaded by porters; Caddan walked up the gangway onto the deck.

He looked up to the sterncastle, and saw Ward Wallace speaking with an older man. He found his way belowdecks through a ladder hatchway, and was directed to one of the rooms where the Griffons were berthed. it was dark and crowded; he placed his gear in a sea-chest next to a hammock, one in a long row that ran the length of the low room.

He went back up on deck, where the Captain, an older man dressed in grey, was addressing crew and passengers.

"I'm Captain Wyndam of the Regent's ship 'Lyonesse Victory' . As you know, we will be heading out to the New Lands, sailing along the shoreline to claim lands for Albion. We will be looking for good places to start a colony, and seeing who inhabits the lands there. We will be accompanied by the Regent's own 'Phantom' , a war galley that will meet us off of Avalon Point. There has been a sighting or two of longships in the area, so the 'Phantom' will be our escort."

"I know that many of you are not used to being at sea. If you feel sick, lean over the rail. Most get used to it after a while. And accomodations will be somewhat tight. Let's all make the best of it. Get settled in, and we will sail at first light."

Caddan joined the Griffons in finding a tavern in Gothwaite to celebrate their departure in the morn. "Nothin' like a hangover on top a bein' seasick" he chuckled to himself as he drank.

After a few drinks, they all headed back to the ship, climbed awkwardly into their hammocks, and fell asleep.

Early the next morning, the cries of sailors and the rattle of the anchor chain awoke them; they climbed stiffly to the deck, to watch their departure. The townsfolk stood on the docks, watching as they slipped the ropes off of the quay. Suddenly, a familiar figure was spotted, running along the dock. Caddan saw Sheymus dive headfirst into the water and grab a rope flung to him by a sailor. Behind him on the dock, a buxom wench, her bodice untied and barefoot, yelled curses that made Caddan turn red as Sheymus was hauled up on the deck.

"What's this now?," Ward Wallace demanded of the soaked Highlander.

"Well, Sir Wallace, I fear I nae had enough coin fer the sweet lass," Sheymus said, looking down at his feet. The Griffons broke out in a roar of laughter as Wallace took a small bag from the pouch on his belt and tossed it over the rail at the wench, who caught it deftly and opened it to see the gleam of silver. She immediately started blessing the knight, whereupon the crowd upon the dock and those shipboard clapped and cheered. The sailors grinned, thinking it a good omen for the start of the voyage.

They sailed with a fair wind, in sight of the coast. Caddan stood at the rail, chuckling at the occasional Griffon who leaned miserably overboard. The weather was grand, and the sailors went about their labor as their passengers walked the deck.

"Don't know if I'd want to be doin' that, now," said Red Donald, watching a sailor scamper up a mast and shimmy out onto a yardarm to untangle some lines.

"I hear ya" replied Caddan; a door opened upon the afterdeck, where some of the more spacious rooms were, and the Ice Witch strode out upon the deck. She was dressed in a black gown this day; an Infiltrator, a lean Saracen also dressed in black, his face impassive, walked with her. Men bowed to her as she walked by; she inclined her head to them, a small smile upon her face.

Caddan watched her walk along the deck, and then ascend to the afterdeck, and speak with the Captain.

He suddenly heard a deep thrumming sound, and turned. He saw Livia the Scout, dressed in her hunting outfit as always, shooting her bow at a padded target set up against the foredeck for practice. Her Wolf was at her side, seeming not to mind being at sea. A small group of Griffons gathered around her, Sheymus among them. Caddan shook his head and chuckled.

"That one with- Milady- is called Blackhand."

Caddan turned to see Merton, looking tired and a bit pale, standing next to him, elegantly clad as usual. A wine goblet was in his hand. "Blackhand...sounds familiar," Caddan mused.

"Poisoner and assassin for the Guild of Shadows," Merton returned, frowning slightly and turning to lean upon the rail, looking out to sea. "He is her pet of the moment, apparently. Her favorites don't seem to...be around long."

"An' were you one, once?"

"Yes. Won't deny it," admitted Merton. "And don't regret it, either. He got a faraway look in his eyes. "Pleasure. And pain. Both like you never dreamed of...you knew you were alive, with her. Alive, but under her control. Be careful."

Caddan started to speak, then stopped. He looked up at the afterdeck once more, and saw Lady Ulrika looking down upon him and Merton; when their eyes met, she smiled that incomprehensible smile of hers he saw that eve in Ulfwych, and then she strolled away. Blackhand stood for a moment longer, staring at him, and then he followed, his dark cloak swirling behind him. Caddan remembered his dream.

The next day, the good weather held; they were making good time, according to Sir Ward, and were due to meet the war-galley 'Phantom' . Livia continued her archery practice upon the middle deck; Sheymus had took it upon himself to retrieve her arrows for her, which she accepted with a blush, causing grins among the Griffons.

Caddan saw Avalon Point approaching, a wooded headland jutting out into the sea; suddenly a lookout halloed, and he saw a swift, low galley appear from behind the Point, rowing towards them. It took only a few minutes to reach them, using its sail as well as oars; as it pulled alongside, Caddan saw the catapult and the scorpion upon its deck, ready for action. From its prow jutted an iron ram. This was definitely a warship; he saw soldiers upon its deck.

A small party of officers came aboard the 'Lyonesse Victory' to talk with Captain Wyndam and Sir Wallace. Caddan gazed upon the deck of the 'Phantom' , and thought to recognize one of the soldiers there, but the man went belowdecks before he could be certain...

The next day, the weather was clouding up, but the wind was still in their sails, as they turned course out to sea, towards the New Lands. Griffons, getting used to the rhythm of the swaying deck, practiced at swordplay with each other, using blunted weapons.

After dueling with Carfryd a while, and working up a good sweat, Caddan stripped to the waist and washed himself in a barrel of water set upon the deck. As he pulled his tunic on, he felt a soft hand upon his shoulder; he turned to look into the eyes of Lady Ulrika.

Her eyes were the deepest blue Caddanhad ever seen. The scent of lilacs washed over him; her hair blew freely in the breeze, as she smiled at him. 'That smile,' Caddan thought. Blackhand stood behind her, out of hearing range, arms folded upon his chest.

"You fight hard, Paladin." Her voice was low, almost musical.

"Thank ye. Lady Ulrika, I am Caddan McClannad."

"Oh, I know," she said, her eyes flickering down his body for a moment, leaving Caddan wondering if he had only imagined it. "Paladins are...a special type of man." She smiled into his eyes again. "But men, nonetheless. I've heard tell that you were one of the first through the gates at Caer Hurbury."

It was a statement, phrased to sound like a question. Caddan was still mulling over her previous words, and snapped out of his wondering. "Aye. It was a hard fight that day, the Celts were fierce." He thought it stupid what he had said, and felt the blood rising to his cheeks. He felt like a lad talking to a maid for the very first time.

"Fierce...but you were fiercer. Would you like to join me and my friend this eve for dinner in my cabin to tell us about it? Afterwards, I am sure we can," she leaned in a bit closer, "entertain ourselves." Her eyes were fixed upon hers; he felt his body respond, and at that moment he knew why they called her the Ice Witch. Her eyes were inviting, but inside them...they were cold. Hard.

"I am sorry, but I have a lass back home," Caddan said in a low voice, feeling an odd pang inside of him, one of regret. The Ice Witch smiled back at him, but her eyes were not smiling, Caddan thought.

"How- quaint," she said, drawing back from him a bit. The spell broke, and he later could not remember what they said in parting, but she walked on along the deck, stopping to speak occasionally with another, followed by her pet; 'Blackhand's as much a pet to her as Wolf is to Livia', Caddan thought. He went belowdecks to his hammock, and lay there, thinking.

In the morning, they found Merton dead in his bed; the ship's surgeon was puzzled, seeing no signs of illness nor violence. He was buried at sea in a small ceremony; Caddan bowed his head and said his own prayer as Captain Wyndam said some words, and wondered who would miss him among the living. Sadness clouded his thoughts.

That afternoon, he practiced more with sword and shield with different Griffons. He was restive, still unsettled. He tried to think on Merton, but ended up thinking of Merton's words of Lady Ulrika. He felt...regret? He wasn't sure. He trained harder, trying to clear his mind.

By late afternoon, he finished his training, and washed up, sitting down upon a pile of rope, watching other Griffons spar, shouting occasional advice. Livia was shooting her longbow once more, the sound of the shafts speeding home to her target cutting though the clank of metal on metal.

Suddenly, he felt a soft hand upon his shoulder once more. He looked up, and saw Lady Ulrika standing above him, looking down at him. She wore a crimson robe today; Caddan was snared by her eyes. She bent down and whispered to him, "My friend and I missed you last night."

Suddenly, Caddan remembered Ulfwych, remembered her coming out of Merton's room, and his eyes saw Blackhand a distance behind her, with a faint smile upon his face. He remembered Merton's love of wine, and who the poisoner for the Guild of Shadows was. Anger flashed in his mind.

"Milady's bed is rarely cold, I hear," he heard himself say. "Could Merton show ye no new tricks?"

Her eyes hardened; she turned and walked away from him as he pondered what he had said, marveling at himself, cursing himself for not joining her, becoming hers, as he stood and walked towards the mast to gather his sword and shield to go belowdecks.

"Insult Milady, Highland dog?" a soft voice said as Caddan bent over to pick up his shield. He heard the soft whisper of steel unsheathed, and as he started to react, heard a deep thrum and then a wet smacking sound, and a shriek of pain.

Caddan whirled around, seeing Blackhand standing behind him, his hand pinned to the mast by a clothyard arrow as he yelled in pain, pulling at the shaft; his long dagger clattered to the deck, and Caddan thought to see a dark ichor upon the blade. He looked across the deck and saw Livia standing still as stone, another arrow nocked in her bow, and Sheymus behind her, gaping at the sight. He bowed low to Livia, and, as sailors called for the Ship's Surgeon, he strode belowdecks. The Ice Witch was nowhere to be seen.

[Morreion]

IV

Caddan stood before Captain Wyndam and Sir Ward Wallace in the Captain's cabin. As the two older men talked in low voices, he gazed out of the glass window that showed a view of the sea from the stern of the ship. He thought of Trema, and wished he was back in the Inn in Cotswold with her.

"We've sent Blackhand over to the 'Phantom' ," Wyndam said to him, his face showing no emotion. "And from what we've heard from those on deck, he drew steel first."

"However. I will not tolerate any disputes aboard 'Lyonesse Victory' . Do I make myself clear, lad?" Caddan nodded and said "Aye Sire, ye do."

Ward Wallace winked slightly at him, and as Caddan left the cabin, he thought he had gotten off lucky. He walked along the deck, and spotted Livia, standing with her Wolf looking out at the waves. He walked up next to her and stood facing the railing, looking out upon the view with her.

"Thank ye, lass."

"It was all reflex, Sire."

"Bah, Ward is the only Knight aboard! Call me Caddan. And I'm sorry I got yer bow taken away."

Livia smiled slightly and stroked Wolf's fur. "It is only a temporary situation. We make landfall soon."

The sea gently rolled, gulls flying over the surface; here and there, a flying fish leapt from the water, through the air.

"I thank ye just the same. Iffen you need anything, count on the Griffons to back ye up, lass."

Caddan strode towards the hatchway to go belowdecks. Red Donald called out to him.

"Well now, McClannad! Ya make pretty good bait, ya do. Who's next gonna try an slit yer throat?"

"Watch it, Donald! Yer like ta get Sheymus after me, since he can't gather up Livia's arrows for her no more!"

Sheymus turned red as several nearby Griffons laughed.

The next day Caddan was in his hammock, sharpening his broadsword, when the cry rang out above. "Land!" The word spread belowdeck, and all, including Caddan, climbed the ladder to get a glimpse of the New Lands.

As the shoreline loomed larger, Caddan noticed how dense the forest grew, right up to the strip of beach. He saw no sign of inhabitants. The two ships turned course to sail along the shore.

Later in the afternoon, a small bay was sighted; two skiffs, small lateen-rigged ships, were anchored there. As they headed for them, a good-sized wooden fort came into view upon the shore, made up of tall logs spaced closely together; blockhouses were at the four corners of the square structure.

"Deliverance Bay," a sailor said as he was hauling in a rope.

Deliverance Bay, so named because its discoverers had been sheltered within its waters while a storm crashed against the coast. Caddan looked into the sky; clouds were forming for a storm of their own, it seemed.

The 'Lyonesse Victory' and the 'Phantom' dropped anchors in the bay, and the ship's boats were readied to transfer people to shore. Two boats came out to meet them from the shore near the fort as well.

Fort Deliverance was a shabby place. Everything was made out of rough-hewn timber, soggy due to frequent rains. Refuse lay in heaps in the yard. Guards walked the parapets and stood in the guardhouses; they looked as shabby as the fort. There was no sign of the fort's leaders.

As the Griffons moved into Fort Deliverance, Sir Ward motioned for Caddan to follow him. They walked out of the gates, into the field that had been cleared of all trees and brush for a space around the wooden palisades.

"Lad," Ward said, "there's rumors about this place I don't like. And I'm not talkin' only about the warbands out in the forests. Keep the Griffons on their toes. Wyndam's a good man, but there are others round that don't wish us well. Many a the garrison here are outcasts and impressed petty criminals, and I am not sure I like the officers much more. Keep your sword close."

Caddan nodded wordlessly.

Back in the fort, the Griffons discovered their accommodations to be straw pallets in a long low shed against one of the fort's walls. "This looks more a stable!" said Carfryd. It looked to the Griffons like their former ship's hammocks weren't so bad, after all. They would be at the fort at least until the weather cleared up before sailing on up the coast to search

That eve, Caddan was out in the yard of the fort on an errand when he spotted the Ice Witch; she was in the two-story officer's house, looking out a window, an oil lantern glowing behind her, giving her an eerie look.

The next day, a drizzle was falling from the darkened sky. Caddan was up on the parapets huddled in his cloak when he heard a yell from a blockhouse; men ran along the walkway at the top of the wall.

In the field in front of the gate, a man limped into view. Two guardsmen left a sally port in the gate and ran to him, carrying him between them, as those on the walls looked on.

Sir Wallace appeared in the yard. "Griffons! At the gates!" The Griffons ran to comply, and the gates were open enough to let them out. As they gathered around, Red Donald yelled, "Shieldwall!", and the men fell into a broad formation, those with shields overlapping theirs with their neighbors. Several men ran off to the edge of the field in the direction that the limping man had come from; Livia and two other Scouts faded into the trees, Wolf close behind them.

Caddan stood in the shieldwall, next to Carfryd and Sheymus. He looked up; the sky was boiling now, the wind was picking up, and the rain started falling harder. Suddenly, the day was split open by a lightning bolt flashing across the sky. As the thunder rolled away, he heard shouting and the clank of steel in the woods ahead of them.

Suddenly, the men who had dashed into the woods ran back into the clearing; one was being supported by another. "Advance!" came the yell, and Carfryd nudged Sheymus and grinned from under his helmet. The shieldwall moved forward.

From the edge of the clearing, visible through the rain; dark figures appeared; short javelins flew suddenly towards them, most rattling off the shields, and then many skin-clad men suddenly darted towards them, holding wicker shields and spears. The Highlanders in the shieldwall gave a yell and surged forward; the clash was furious, with the Griffons sending the other men reeling back, spears and light shields splintering under Highland steel, a few upon the ground, dead or dying as the Highlanders stepped over them. The rest retreated back into the woods; Caddan saw one man fall, an arrow protruding from his side. The others ran off in the woods.

"Halt!" cried Red Donald. The Griffons stopped at the wood's edge. "Caddan, Derval, take a look lads," and Caddan was off, along with a tall Griffon. They advanced slowly into the trees; they found two dead warriors, and a third moaning. As Derval rolled him over, his eyes went sightless. Livia strode up silently, Wolf at her side, her bow at the ready. Caddan nodded to her.

They backed their way into the clearing, where the shieldwall stood down. "Headin' into the woods ta fight on their terms, I think not," Red Donald was saying as they headed back towards the gate. It was pouring rain now; the men ran for shelter. A few searched the bodies of the dead.

Back in the barracks, Caddan heard Red Donald telling the others: "The man who made it back ta the fort...he was the only survivor of a patrol, apparently. Sir Ward said he was let go by someone known as 'the Avalonian', to send a message back."

Someone asked him what the message was; Red Donald smiled and said, " 'Leave or die.' And we sail soon as the weather clears ta look for 'em."

[Morreion]

V

Caddan sat next to Red Donald and Sheymus, watching Sir Ward Wallace, standing next to the bonfire, speak with the one they called the Avalonian.

They were in the center of a village, up the coast from Fort Deliverance. The Griffons had sailed there to meet the enemy, under a flag of truce. The village itself was of a modest size, but filled with fierce warriors with wicker shields and spears. The Griffons were in full armor, weapons at their sides.

The Avalonian was a tall, otherworldly figure, dressed in a simple dark robe; he had long white hair tied into a braid. Caddan had seen few Avalonians before- the man's appearance was very striking. How he came to be in this land, he couldn't begin to guess. He was speaking in a deep voice.

"You are the interlopers here. Albion shall not have this land. Go back from whence you came, and tell your masters so. And take this one with you."

The Avalonian raised his hand, and two warriors entered a nearby hut. They returned, a familiar figure in between them.

"Lady Ulrika!" said Sir Ward. "What in the name of-"

"She was sent to persuade me to see Albion's side," the Avalonian smiled. "She wastes her time and efforts with me."

The Ice Witch said nothing, her face neutral. She was dressed in a richly-hued blue woolen dress with a matching cloak. Caddan stared at her, wondering where Her Pet was, wondering-

Sir Ward spoke up. "Caddan, Sheymus, escort Lady Ulrika back to the 'Victory' ."

Caddan and Sheymus moved to her side; Sheymus said softly, "follow us, Milady"; the Ice Witch ignored Caddan, nodded her head slightly to Sheymus. They walked off towards the ship.

As soon as they were away from the village, she spoke:
"There is a boat hidden in the cove, not far from where your ship is anchored. Take me there."

"Milady, Sir Ward said-"

"I know what Sir ward said," she almost spat the words. "There are two men waiting there who are in peril if they do not know that I am returning."

Caddan thought this over; he nodded curtly, and set out in that direction.

They ended up on the further side of the cove; a boat was pulled up in the brush just off of the beach. Caddan cursed and drew his broadsword when he saw the bodies sprawled, bloody and lifeless, next to it.

From the other side of the cove, horns sounded. Men yelled.

"Quickly!" Caddan said, running back the way he came. Sheymus drew his sword on the run. Caddan forgot the Ice Witch, forgot everything with the impending feeling of dread washing over him. As they ran along the shore, a Highlander in armor, bleeding from a cut upon his arm, crashed out of the trees near them.

"Carfryd!" Sheymus yelled. Carfryd looked around wildly, saw them, and ran to them, wincing in pain, gripping his injured arm.

"Bloody assassination! Someone fired a crossbow bolt into the Avalonian during the truce!"

Caddan's mind reeled. He thought immediately of Blackhand. Her Pet. Lady Ulrika was not to be seen.

"When he was struck, his guards attacked in a fury. Sir Ward went down in the first rush," Carfryd continued. "Red Donald tried to rally the men, but before we could form a shieldwall, they were too many. Griffons scattered, running for the ship-"

Along the beach, groups of warriors had emerged, running out of the forest.

"Back the way we came!" said Sheymus. "Let's find Lady Ulrika and take the boat out to the ship! We'll never make it along the shore!"

The three Highlanders ran through the sand along the beach, back towards the boat. They saw nothing of the Ice Witch, however. As they pulled the boat down towards the water, Sheymus called out.

"The 'Phantom!' "

It was the war-galley indeed, turning into the cove from the open sea. As they readied the boat, Caddan kept an eye upon the 'Lyonesse Victory' . He saw Griffons run out into the water, casting their armor aside, trying to make it to the ship. Others had jumped in the boats along the shore and were rowing; many others fought hand-to-hand with a growing swarm of warriors who surged onto the beach. Caddan cursed, burning with rage that he was not fighting beside the other Griffons.

As the war-galley sped swiftly into the cove, a gold and red banner was hoisted upon its mast- the flag of the Golden Lions. "What in the name of..." Caddan trailed off.

The 'Lyonesse Victory' had taken on some of the Griffons and was setting sail out towards the ocean. The ship's boats fished men out of the water.

What they all saw next caused them to stop what they were doing and gape in disbelief.

The 'Phantom' , rowing swiftly and under full sail, rammed the 'Lyonesse Victory' amidships with its long iron ram.

Men fell screaming out of the 'Victory's rigging. Men milled around the deck in panic as a volley of crossbow bolts was fired from the 'Phantom' into their midst.

The 'Lyonesse Victory' heeled sharply to starboard as it took on water. The 'Phantom' backed oars, raking the decks with more crossbow fire; its catapult and scorpion fired deadly projectiles that cut men down upon the deck.

"Bastards!" Sheymus yelled, and shook his fist. "The Golden Lions!"

A group of warriors burst out of the woods, and ran at them. The three Griffons turned to fight them.

Carfryd went down first, cursing; the wound on his arm had slowed him. He buried his sword in a warriors chest as he was struck down.

Caddan and Sheymus fought back to back; they had slain three warriors when still more figures poured out of the woods. Thirty men surrounded them. One man gave orders, gesturing, and the warriors reversed their spears, using the butt-ends of their shafts to beat the two men to the ground, through force of sheer numbers. They were disarmed roughly, arms tied behind their backs, and marched back towards the village.

As Caddan was marched off the beach, blood pouring from a scalp wound forced him to close one eye; with the other, he gazed upon a terrible scene.

The 'Lyonesse Victory' was sinking; bodies floated upon the water. The 'Phantom' could be seen in the distance, rowing out to sea. Upon the beach, dead Griffons were strewn upon the bloody sand. They had taken many warriors with them, Caddan noticed with a savage pride. There lay Red Donald, with six of the bastards ripped open around his body. Caddan laughed bitterly.

One of the warriors guarding him smashed his spear-shaft across Caddan's mouth, busting a lip and cracking a tooth; Caddan spat blood as he eyed the man evilly. He was prodded at spearpoint onto the path towards the village.

Caddan and Sheymus were brought before the Avalonian, who sat upon the ground beneath a tree; a woman dressed his chest wound with some kind of herbal broth and was bandaging him up. Before him on the ground lay Blackhand, a battered bloody mess. A moan came from his lips.

The Avalonian looked up at them, smiling grimly. "The Saracen fired true, but the Elder Gods protected me. I am their messenger, and Albion shall be cleansed from these lands." the fire of fanaticism was in his eyes.

"Tie him to a post; we shall see how long it takes a truce-breaker to die under the knives of the warbands." He gestured at Blackhand, and two warriors dragged him off. "Ulrika," the Saracen croaked in a pain-filled voice, a statement, or perhaps a question.

"She made it, lad," Caddan heard himself say, as if from a distance. He was beaten to his knees with spear-butts for his words.

"These two shall face the Gauntlet. Make preparations."

Caddan and Sheymus were marched to the edge of the village. Women and boys surrounded them, taunting them as they were stripped of armor and clothing; warriors argued over who would get what piece of loot. Caddan looked impassively straight ahead; his mind was far away. He thought of Trema, how her smile had always warmed him, how they had made love that last night in Cotswold, the look upon her face as-

"Hope Livia made it," Sheymus said, smiling at Caddan. His face was a mass of bruises from when he had fought his subduers with his fists and teeth.

Caddan smiled back at his oldest friend. "If anyone could, it would be her and her Wolf."

They both watched a double line of men forming, every one of them carrying a club. They understood what was to happen as they were shoved, clad only in loincloths, towards the gauntlet.

Caddan looked at his friend the last time and took his hand in his, squeezing.

"Sheymus, let's show em how a Highlander lives and dies, shall we?"

His closest friend, the man who had saved his life twice in battle, who had been there for him through thick and thin, always with a smile on his face, squeezed his hand in return, and laughed.

They both took off running fast, barefoot over the grass. The warriors were caught off-guard; the captives were running the gauntlet before they were told!

Caddan yelled, "Run like ye ran from that wench on the docks at Gothwaite, ye old horndog!" Sheymus laughed wildly as he picked up speed, outdistancing Caddan, his large body flying between the lines of men.

That is how Caddan remembered his friend; laughing in the face of death, so full of mirth that the bastards who beat him down with their clubs could not take away the man's spirit, even though they took his life.

Sheymus had ran ahead on purpose; most of the warriors rained their blows down upon the big man, as Caddan took less blows. Caddan was slammed with blows upon his back, his thighs, his shoulders; Sheymus, ahead of him, was beaten to the ground. As he lay face-down, the warriors continued to beat him.

"You call yourselves men!" Caddan screamed, shrugging off the blows, and crouched over his friend, shielding the body with his; pain exploded inside him as he was smashed across the head. He felt a bone break in his arm, and he fell forward upon Sheymus; but the big Highlander was already gone.

He couldn't tell how much longer he was beaten; he heard a voice say something in a language he could not understand, and suddenly, he was picked up and thrown down upon the grass at the edge of the village. He was battered bloody, every nerve in his body screaming; broken bones grated upon each other. He could not move.

He faded in and out of consciousness.

It was morning suddenly. Caddan lay where he had been left; a warrior stood over him, looking at him. When the man saw his eyes move, the man nodded at him, and said awkwardly; 'Brave, you.' He held a waterskin to Caddans lips. Caddan drank greedily, but coughed most of it up. He became aware of a terrible screaming in the distance; he remembered Blackhand, and then he passed out once more from the pain.

[Morreion]

VI

The warrior had been impressed with the Highlander's strength of will, how he clung to life. But the reason that he had dragged Caddan into the woods on a makeshift bier to the Old Woman's hut was this: Caddan tried to shield Sheymus' body from the blows of the gauntlet. The warrior once had a friend who looked like Sheymus. His Gods had spoke to him and told him: let their will be done. And he had done so, having proper fear for the Gods.

A silent shadow watched from the trees as the warrior left Caddan, laying upon the crude bier of branches, at the front door of the small isolated hut. As the door opened, the warrior fled running. The shadow, barely visible, reached out and stroked the fur of the wolf who stood quietly at her side.

Caddan faded in and out; he had no concept of the passage of time. He sensed he was in a small enclosed space, ill-lit by a small fire. He felt a presence near him often. Once he awoke long enough to see an old woman standing over him, her hands glowing blue with a purifying, healing force. He looked up at her face, and saw she was terribly disfigured. Leprosy. She turned away from him when she saw his gaze upon her, and slowly walked away.

Caddan slept. He dreamed, and he remembered.

He was at Hurbury again, in the courtyard, dead Celts around him and his comrades. His chest was heaving, he felt truly alive; he had faced death and won. For some reason it felt strange to be able to walk, to talk, to see his friends; this was disquieting in the back of his mind.

Then the Golden Lions entered the gates; their commander was upon a magnificent warhorse, dressed richly in cloth of gold finery. As he watched himself turn to the man on horseback, Caddan wanted to cry out a warning to all the Griffons in the courtyard, but he could not; all his comrades were talking excitedly of the battle. All of them would be dead a few moons later. He could only watch what happened. It was set in stone now.

Lord Braxton looked down upon him from his high horse, once again. A sneer was on his face. The Golden Lions were an elitist lot. Caddan saw himself grin and say, "Better late than never, Milord!" Red Donald hooted with laughter nearby, and the Griffons took up the mirth. Braxton scowled at him.

Caddan realized then: it was me. What I said doomed my friends, my Guild. I am responsible.

He drifted out of consciousness, feverish, uncaring. He cared not if he lived or died.

The Old Woman brought him back with her healing magics. She who was shunned as one touched by the Gods and Goddesses, an outcast, brought him back.

He dreamt of the Griffons. Sheymus, Red Donald, Carfryd, Sir Ward, all of the others. They stood silently, their death wounds showing plainly.

He dreamt of Lord Braxton. All he saw was his hateful face.

He dreamt of Trema. He heard her say things to him, conversations he had forgotten, things of no consequence. But they gave him something to hold onto, to remember. He started to heal.

He awoke with the Old Woman wiping his face with a damp rag. He lay upon a crude bed, naked, two blankets over him. He looked up into her disfigured face, and suddenly reached up to touch her cheek lightly, caressing it. She lowered her eyes; he thought to see tears welling there before she turned away.

As he grew stronger, mended by the strange magics of her, he walked around the hut. He could walk a little more each time he tried. He was soon walking in the woods nearby, and then was building his strength by chopping firewood with a crude hatchet. He made large piles of kindling for the Old Woman, who kept to herself in the hut, away from him.

He was chopping wood one day when Wolf appeared out of the trees. He looked up, startled, and saw Livia appear at the wood's edge. He smiled at her, then kept on chopping.

She walked up to him; Wolf nuzzled his leg.

She looked into his eyes; what she saw made her blink, and then she placed her arms around him as the tears leaked out of his eyes.

"It was my doing. All are gone, save me."

"Caddan, we must go. You have your lady to return to."

"I am the reason for this."

"What is her name?"

"Trema." He stood quietly; she stared at him.

"I am taking you back," she said, turning back to the woods, and then returning with a bundle. "Clothing, a hauberk, a sword." She pressed the bundle into his hands. He looked down at them. The clothes came from a Griffon.

He stood, staring at the clothes, for a long time. Then he quietly put them on, along with the mail hauberk. He fitted the bastard sword's sheath over his shoulder.

He carried the last load of firewood to the hut, placing it against the wall. Then he went through the door. The Old Woman was nowhere to be seen.

They left, walking through the forest.

~~~

Guilford arose late that morning, head pounding from the sour ale he'd drank to much of. He gathered his gear and walked slowly out of Fort Deliverance, down towards the beach.

He didn't like the new troops that were at the Fort; Golden Lions. He snorted. They were arrogant, liked to order you around. He had no use for men like that. Give him a good Captain though, and a ship to sail, and he would gladly sail the seas; the life of a sailor was better than that of a peasant, by far.

Hugh joined him at the boat, muttering a good morning. They rowed out to the skiff, and started to inspect the rigging. they had some minor repairs to do today. Hugh said, "Too bad there was no room for berth upon the 'Phantom' ." Guildford nodded and replied, "Back to Gothwaite for them, lucky sea-dogs." Guildford wondered where the guard was-

Suddenly, the hatch leading to belowdeck crashed open. Guildford saw a remarkable sight; a gaunt Highlander, eyes burning, clutching a long sword appeared; followed by a woman scout with an arrow nocked in her bow, and a wolf! Hugh gave a cry.

"You will sail for Avalon Isle. Now." The Highlander's tone left no room for questioning. Hugh started to say something, but Guilford placed a hand upon his arm in warning.

"I'll set the sail," he said. "Hugh, haul anchor."

It was hours before anyone noticed that the skiff was gone. There was much shouting in the fort, and the two remaining skiffs sailed off in pursuit, with Golden Lions aboard.

[Morreion]

VII


"Faster, damn you!"

The Sargent, dark cloak streaming behind him, stood upon the bow of the skiff. He was dressed in the golden armor and livery of the Golden Lions; he had a crossbow in his hands.

Though he was yelling orders to the sailors behind him, he kept his attention focused upon the skiff ahead of him; it was swiftly approaching Avalon Isle. He wasn't in bowshot range yet.

Behind him, his men loaded crossbows. Sailors trimmed the billowing sail. But the skiff they were chasing would beat them to the shore, a barren place near Drakoran encampments. Foul beasts, the Sargent thought. Always hated them.

After a while, he saw a man jump into the water, wading in towards shore. His men crowded around him on the bow, watching. They were slightly out of range.

He saw a slim figure upon the stern of the skiff head of him; as he cried out a warning, a blurry object flew by his head, hissing in his ear. Behind him, a man screamed and clutched a clothyard shaft that had sprouted from his chest; it had pierced his armor with ease.

"Down, everyone!," the Sargent shouted, crouching low. A man next to him raised his head above the prow to take a long shot with his crossbow; another clothyard shaft took him in the eye. He was dead before his body hit the boards beneath his knees.

Everyone lay flat upon the deck, including the sailors. There was no sound save for the water sloshing against the hull as the skiff sailed, unmanned, towards the shore.

Finally, after some minutes, the Sargent worked up enough courage to peek over the prow, mouthing a silent prayer to God. He saw the skiff beached upon the sand, and two sailors waving at him. He saw no sign of the damned female and her longbow, nor the Highlander.

"Up, up! They run! We will have them now!," he shouted.

His men prepared to debark as they closed on the beach.

~~~

They ran up and away from the shore, Caddan in the lead, Livia keeping an eye out behind them, her longbow and an arrow in her hands. Wolf sprinted ahead, obviously glad to be off the skiff. They ran into a patch of tangled trees.

Suddenly a deep roar sounded from ahead. Wolf howled, and backed slowly towards them.

The Drakoran burst from the brush ahead of them, looking like a scaled demon from the pits of Hell. Its small eyes glittered with malevolence.

Livia's longbow sang; an arrow glanced off its armored hide.

Caddan drew his blade from the sheath over his shoulder, holding the hilt in both hands.

As Wolf lunged at the beast, another shaft from the longbow pierced the Drakoran's right arm; it grunted in pain, maddened. Wolf grabbed its leg as Caddan swung his sword as hard as he could downwards, slicing into its shoulder, hearing bones break.

The beast screamed and bowled Caddan over, shaking Wolf off its leg, and it fell upon Livia, just as she shot it point-blank in the chest.

Caddan dragged the twitching, dead beast off of her; Livia looked pale. Her leg was slashed open; she was losing blood fast.

Cursing, Caddan tore a strip of cloth off the bottom of his shirt and tied it around her leg tightly; she moaned and told him, "Go, go. No time." She called for Wolf and held his head in her hands; looking into his eyes, she pointed to Caddan. Wolf turned and looked at him, then looked back at Livia. She nodded, and closed her eyes. Her face was very pale. Caddan picked her up, draping her arm over his shoulders.

The blood ran freely down her leg; an artery was hit. He knew she would die soon. Still cursing, he dragged her along. They heard shouts behind them.

"Against that tree," Livia gasped; he took her there and she propped her back up against the trunk, nocking an arrow in her bow. Caddan felt helpless.

"Take them from behind as they come for me," she said in a weak voice; he looked at her, and she smiled a small weak smile as he nodded curtly, saying "Lass-"

"No time," she said. He ran off through the brush to the side, doubling back; Wolf followed him, but he stopped and pointed back to Livia, swaying against the tree-trunk. Wolf ran back to her.

~~~

Livia winced at the pain, he body trembling; but she held her longbow straight as ever, arrow pointed at the path where it emerged from the brush.

Suddenly, half a dozen figures appeared, wearing golden armor and dark cloaks. One gaped at her, raising a crossbow. Livia put an arrow in his stomach and swiftly nocked another arrow, sending another clothyard shaft into the forearm of another who pointed a crossbow at her. He shrieked and dropped his bow as the others charged.

The one in front of her had a shield and sword; his shield was raised, so she put the shaft into his thigh. He tumbled to the ground, cursing. That was when Caddan appeared out of the brush. She smiled at the sight of him, then everything turned to black as she slumped to the ground.

~~~

Caddan leapt out upon the path behind the men; with volcanic fury, he yelled "Griffons!" as he thrust his blade through the back of the man in front of him. His sword burst through his armor and the body fell bonelessly to the ground. Caddan saw a man with an arrow in his leg crawling towards a crossbow; suddenly Wolf leapt upon him, tearing at him.

The three men remaining turned to face Caddan.

He looked at the three men, laughing at him, insulting him. He looked at them and smiled, with a dead-calm certainty that he felt flow through his soul, and as he brought his sword up, held in front of his face, he told them in a clear voice, sounding strange to his own ears;

"Ye are goin' ta die, each one a ye. Which one be first?"

The taunts died upon their lips when they saw his face.

Caddan leaped forward, smoldering with fury. The first man threw his sword up to turn Caddan's cut; as the others moved towards him, he gave a savage backhand cut at the man that bit into his side. The man groaned, clutching his wound, as Caddan thrust his blade through his armpit. He barely got the sword out of the body in time to parry a huge cut aimed at his head. He threw himself backwards to avoid a sidehand slash by the other man. He stumbled.

The second man followed up with with a thrust that glanced off Caddan's hauberk. The third man, an older veteran by the look of him, hacked at him; Caddan parried the force of the blow, though the sword gouged him on the shoulder. Bright pain flowed through him.

He counterthrust at the second man, his sword slicing open the man's upper arm. The man yelled in pain and fell back.

The third man, the veteran, hacked at Caddans side, bursting his mail, the edge of the blade tasting Caddan's flesh. Caddan weakly dealt a backhand blow that the veteran parried, smiling.

The second man gripped his upper arm, and raised his sword to attack once more. Wolf leapt upon him, pushing him to the ground, screaming.

Caddan was feeling faint. He knew he had to end the fight now. He fainted a blow aimed at the veteran's head, then whirled around sideways, sword in both hands, swinging with all his might.

His blade crunched through the man's armor at the same time Caddan was struck again by his sword.

~~~

He lay upon the grass, trying to rise, but falling back down heavily to his hands and knees. He was weary, making even the pain a distant thing. He looked over and saw his notched sword beside him, reached out, and gripped the hilt. The familiar feel reassured him.

He rolled over and laid upon his back, staring into the sky. It all slowly came back to him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears; he felt feverish.

Wolf stood over him, licking his face. "Livia," he said, and suddenly sat up. Blood flowed under his armor.

He stood, using his sword as a crutch to prop him up. He walked around the dead Golden Lions at his feet, limped over to where Livia sat, eyes, closed, back against the tree. She was unmoving.

He collapsed to his knees next to her, and touched her arm; her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled wanly.

"You made it home to Trema..."

"Lass, I'm goin' ta carry ya on my back. Let me-"

"No," she said whispering, and smiled. "Wolf is yours now. Remember my tale, at Ulfwych?"

Caddan leaned forward and took her hand; she passed away as he stroked her hand.

He sat there until he felt the overpowering urge to lay down.

He knew that he would die unless he made it to Anniogel, not too far away.

He pushed himself to his feet, using his sword once more. He looked at Livia once more, tears in his eyes, and he stumbled down the path.

His mind faded in and out. Wolf walked next to him, holding his hand in his jaws gently, urging him forward. He fell once; Wolf licked his face and he managed to stand once more, to walk forward.

Sometimes he thought that it was Livia walking next to him; other times, it was Sheymus, looking at him, grinning. Then it was Trema, telling him to come home to her or she'd come out here and haul him in by his ear. Sometimes he sang.

He came to his senses when he heard the shout. He looked around him, and saw the fort ahead; a guard was shouting, drawing his bow. Wolf was hit by the arrow, and collapsed. "No," Caddan said.

He fell to the ground next to the beast, holding it, burying his face in the fur. "No, no" he repeated.

"I thought it was attacking him! It's a wolf!" yelled the guardsman, as his commander cursed him and told him that was Livia's pup.

Caddan felt the men leaning over him as Wolf feebly licked his hand, and then he knew no more.

~~~

Lord Braxton hated these events.

He sat upon his horse at Prydwen Keep, reviewing the new company of Golden Lions. They marched by him, resplendent in their gold and black uniforms.

He watched them, bored.

After the ceremony, he told his officers he was going down to Prydwen Bridge for a time, and would be back.

He trotted his horse out the gate, east towards the river. He thought about the recent business with the Brotherhood of the Griffons, and smiled grimly. At least they were out of the way, and no one the wiser. Councilor Shaw assured him there would be no questions asked.

He dismounted under a willow tree by the riverbank, not too far from the bridge. All was peaceful and warm.

He saw two mounted figures approaching; they rode up to him and likewise dismounted.

"Lady Ulrika," he said, taking her hand.

The Ice Witch looked coolly upon him. "Your rivals are destroyed, Braxton. I am sure you are happy." The young man next to her was unfamiliar to him; some new toy of hers, an Infiltrator no doubt.

"Yes, Milady. You did your part."

"I barely escaped with my life."

"I had no worries for you; I know your resourcefulness."

Braxton smiled thinly.

Ulrika looked back at him, impassively.

"The New Lands will take much more than the Golden Lions to subdue. I almost succeeded in killing their leader-"

"Almost," Braxton broke in, "isn't good enough. But the lands there will be my own some day. Perhaps you will be by my side, then." He handed her a pouch, the sound of coins ringing together inside.

The Ice Witch smiled, a brilliant deadly smile, as she took the pouch.

"Anything is possible."

Braxton bowed to her; Ulrika and her companion remounted, and rode slowly off.

Braxton looked out across the water; he walked down to the bridge, and sat watching the water flow under it. He was thinking of how to approach the current problem again when a shadow fell over him.

He looked up, startled. A gaunt Highlander with intense eyes stood over him. Braxton then saw the blade in his hand. Sweat poured down his face; his guards had been left at the Keep on purpose, for the meeting...

"I have thousands of gold pieces at Prydwen. All that and more-"

The Highlander spoke, interrupting him with a curiously soft voice.

"I shoulda done this that day at Hurbury. But as I said then, Milord...better late than never."

Braxton recognized him; "You," he said in a surprised tone, as the blade slid into his chest.

~~~

Trema looked out the window for the twentieth time.

She was back in the very room in Cotswold Inn that her and Caddan had shared the eve before he left, all those weeks ago.

When word of the Griffons' defeat at the hands of the
barbarians reached her, she nearly went crazy with grief. Every day since was a torment; the not knowing was the worst part.

She looked down the street through Cotswold.

She planned to stay here until her money ran out, or until confirmed word of her love's death reached her. She had told him she would be here when he returned; the innkeeper looked at her sadly each day when she appeared for her meals.

She could not give up hope, no matter how it hurt.

Suddenly, she spied a figure standing under a tree across the road.

Her heart leaped.

He looked up at her, seeing her in the window. She plainly saw the burden he carried upon him, even from up here.

Crying with joy, she ran out of the room, down the stairs. She threw open the doors to the Inn, ran out into the road, and ran into his arms, weeping.