the shelter of his palace in Carlon and not have to stop three times a day to shelter under these
shade cloths.
―Did you happen to come across any hamlets or farmhouses in your, ah, sweep ahead,
Askam?‖ he said, raising his eyes again. He sat with Leagh and his sub-commanders under the
shade cloths, Askam sitting cross-legged before him, waiting out Sheol‘s mid-afternoon despair.
Askam shrugged slightly. ―A home or two, the peasants sheltered inside. They stared at
us as we passed, their faces pressed to glass and their fingers locked into the catches of shutters.‖
Zared shook his head. ―I hope Carlon has managed to fare better than what we‘ve seen so
far. Ah! What kind of life is this, hiding from the hour of the day itself.‖
―And what will happen when they have eaten their way through their winter stocks?‖
Leagh said softly. ―Few will be able to forage for food, or hunt for meat—and what food does
still linger about on four hooves must truly be contaminated beyond belief by the Demons.‖
There was silence for a while as all contemplated Leagh‘s words. Askam, apparently still
chastened by Zared‘s earlier sharp-tongued words on his desertion, dropped his eyes and studied
his fingers.
―Dare we eat madness?‖ Theod eventually said.
―Enough of these thoughts,‖ Zared said, his voice stronger. ―By noon tomorrow we will
be in Carlon. Enough shelter to give us time to consolidate, and perhaps plan a means to strike
back.‖
―How?‖ Askam said. He raised his head, and all who looked at him put the peculiar
blankness of his eyes down to hopelessness.
Zared hesitated before he found a reply. ―There must be a way. And if we can‘t find it,
then we must trust Drago to find it for us.‖
Askam‘s entire body jerked, and the others looked at him curiously. Drago! The name
thundered through his mind, rippling out first to the badger, and then to the minds of the
Hawkchilds hovering far, far overhead.
Drago. Drago? He lives?
And from there…
The great black horses responded instantly to the command of their riders, and slowed to
a halt, flexing their claws into the earth to anchor themselves against whatever might strike.
―Drago lives,‖ Rox said, gazing first at his fellow Demons, and then to StarLaughter,
cradling her son. They had all shared the Hawkchilds‘ thoughts.
―But I thought you killed him,‖ StarLaughter said. ―What can this mean?‖
Sheol furrowed her forehead, angered that Drago had managed to survive the final leap
through the Star Gate. But how? They had used all of his enchantment and power and life to
accomplish that final leap, she was certain of it. How?
―What enchantment was used to save him?‖ she asked softly. ―What is it that we don‘t
know?‖
―There was something we felt in the chamber of the Star Gate,‖ Barzula said, and they
fell quiet remembering the slight, but odd power they‘d felt floating about the chamber as they‘d
come through.
Directional power, Sheol had said of it then…but what if it was more than that?
―It was enough to recreate Drago,‖ Sheol said. Her voice was expressionless.
―The magicians you saw to the west?‖ Barzula asked Rox.
―The man was too…too vague for me to pick out his features. The woman I did not
know.‖
―I do not like this!‖ Raspu cried. ―How did he survive! How? ‖
―For Stars‘ sakes!‖ StarLaughter said. ―Drago is worse than useless. He had no power
left… nothing. His Icarii potential was burned completely away. If he did survive, then I imagine he is crawling about the landscape seeking some crevice in which to grovel. Drago? We have all seen how pathetic and useless he is. Why worry about him?‖
―Perhaps you are right,‖ Sheol said. ―He is a nothing. An inconsequent.‖
She smiled at StarLaughter, and as she smiled she shared private thoughts with her
Demon companions.
Nevertheless, we shall set the Hawkchilds to him. He knows us, and even that knowledge
could be dangerous. I would feel better with him dead.
Aye. Kill him.
Yes. Kill him soon.
Moreover, why should StarLaughter speak on his behalf? Did they exchange more than
fluids in that bed they shared? Allegiances, perhaps?
Shall we kill her?
Not yet. Not yet.
The Demons sat their horses and smiled at StarLaughter, and she smiled back, and
hugged her child to her breast. All was well.
Leagh pressed closer to Zared, listening to the night roil outside their shelter. But it did
not terrify her, for here she lay safe in her husband‘s arms, and if Tencendor lay ravaged, then
surely it would only be a matter of time before Zared, or Drago, or even Caelum and his parents,
found the solution to the TimeKeepers.
―You must be happy that Askam is back,‖ Zared murmured into her hair.
―Relieved,‖ she whispered. ―I had thought…‖
Zared did not answer with words, but tightened his arms about her, wishing his love was
enough to keep her safe. He knew what she‘d thought, for he had thought the same. But whatever
motives had driven Askam out into the night, he was safe back now, and if that made Leagh
happy then Zared supposed he should be happy for her sake.
But he could not quite rid himself of his own self-serving wish that Askam had died out
there in the terror-swept Plains of Tare.
―Tomorrow you will be home,‖ he murmured, then tilted her face to kiss her. He had his
own reasons for wanting the privacy of their own bedchamber again.
In the shadows the two indistinct white shapes of the donkeys shifted. They were
disturbed and uncertain, and they were not quite sure why. They did not trust the blandness of
Askam‘s eyes, nor the similar blandness in the eyes of the men and horses he‘d led back to
Zared‘s camp.
―Carlon!‖ a joyful voice rang out from the ranks behind him, and Zared grinned, as
relieved and as happy as his command.
―Carlon,‖ he said, and let his eyes roam over the rising pink walls before them.
Then he quickly checked the sun. Noon. They had two hours to ford the Nordra at the
crossing north of Grail Lake and get inside. Not long enough. Perhaps a third of his force—and,
of course, the Strike Force who could happily wing the distance—could get inside the city gates
by mid-afternoon.
Zared sighed, and turned about to issue orders to Gustus and his other captains. Most
would camp on the eastern banks of the Nordra, but perhaps ten or eleven thousand could safely
make the dash for the city before despair closed in.
―Leagh,‖ Zared said as Gustus spurred his horse away, ―do you mind?‖
―No,‖ she smiled, and reached out for his hand. ―We will wait for the afternoon. A few
hours will do us no harm.‖
Several ranks behind them, Askam smiled.
Zared sent the Strike Force ahead, then gave the order for seven thousand, including
those still wounded, to make the push across the ford and then into Carlon. As the remainder of
his force busied themselves erecting the shade cloths for what they hoped would be the last time,
Zared stood on the banks of the river, Leagh beside him.
―It looks so beautiful,‖ she said, and leaned against her husband.
Zared nodded. ―See? People wave from the walls.‖
Perhaps several score of the Carlonese had lined the walls, waving banners and faint
smudges of hands. They were too far away for their voices and cheers to reach Zared‘s and
Leagh‘s ears, but they could hear them in their hearts.
As the first of the men from Zared‘s force crossed the river and spurred towards the city,
the gates swung open.
―Safe,‖ Zared said again. ―I have brought you home safe.‖
The mid-afternoon hour seemed to drag forever. All who yet waited on the eastern banks
of the Nordra shifted impatiently; horses loaded with gear were ready to be urged across the river
and into Carlon the moment despair had evaporated.
From a small gap in the pink walls a patchy-bald rat stared across the distance to the
waiting army.
More two-legs. Well, all the more to sate his hunger. The patchy-bald rat couldn‘t wait
for the badger to get here. Couldn‘t wait for the feast to begin.
A thin drool of saliva ran out from between its yellowed fangs and trickled down to its
claws. In the blink of an eye, the rat scampered down a drain set into the walls.
Down to the sewers under the city.
Zared hoped the three hours between mid-afternoon and dusk would be enough to get
everyone safe within the walls. He did not fancy spending another night in the open when shelter
sat so close.
A few paces away from Zared and Leagh, the white donkeys dozed, their heads nodding
with the weight of their thoughts.
The instant it was safe, men leapt to the poles and shade cloths, pulling them down