“What's wrong?” Egon asked after Dari when she stormed out of the tent. She only muttered under her breath.

The giant stood calm, comfortably, legs apart, arms raised high above his hideous head and in his hands Vengyr. Vengyr or what was left of him. Ravens were crawling all over his body, tearing off chunks of pink flesh before taking off. They all seemed to fly in the same direction. East.

But could ravens carry such things as leg bones? They wouldn't have to, Dari knew, the druid was smashed well enough and if not the giant would just rip him apart small enough to make it possible. Tears blurred her vision. She'd been so close. So close to being able to return to a normal life.

“Hey, hey.” Egon came rushing after her, closing her in his arms. “It's alright?”

“No it's not!” Her voice was breaking. “The ravens, we have to stop them!”

“Why?” He looked at her as though she had lost her mind. She had no idea how to explain it to him.

'The ravens are carrying an immortal druid that I have to catch to prevent the end of the world!'

Yes, certainly, that would do it.

“Your army has many archers, right?” She asked him. “With longbows? Can you get them to shoot them down?”

He shook his head in disbelief: “It's too high up and even if I got them to do that, what would be the purpose? Has it to do with the giantesses?”

“No...” She was at a loss for words. “Look, this is bigger than us! Can you get two horses?”

He felt her brow looking for a fever: “You're not well.” He determined. “Let's go inside and catch some sleep, hm? You've been through a lot.”

“No!” She struggled in his grasp. For a moment she wanted to spin, duck beneath his other hand and hit him. That wouldn't be right though, and what was she to do then? She wouldn't get very far, not in this dress, not with her broken ribs and most of all not amidst this Andergastian army full of longbows. It wouldn't do to die with an arrow in her back like a fleeing peasant girl.

“Need help with'er, milord?” A passing guardsman grinned enviously as Egon wrestled her back to the tent. He was clearly drunk. Other soldiers were getting increasingly drunk as well, singing songs and making merry as no doubt was their custom after a battle won.

Meanwhile, Dari was losing, unsure what to do and only half-heartedly struggling against Egon.

“The ravens do act queer though, Sire.” The young squire noted. He had sat by the tent flap, sharpening a blade. Dari hadn't seen him a moment ago.

“What do you mean by that?” Egon asked briskly.

“Well, pardons, Sire, only, uh...” The lad scratched his pimply nose and ducked under his masters gaze. “They were eating corpse flesh down here, where there's more than enough to be had.” He shivered.

“The raven is Boron's bird. It's what they do.” Egon interrupted him. “You'll learn that soon enough. Wait till you see your first real battlefield.”

“Yes!” The lad made an uncomfortable face. “But someone up that iron mountain whistled, Sire. And ever since, the birds have taken up there to nibble from the giant's hand! Look around, if you please, they're all gone! Is that not strange, Sire?”

The lad had spoken true. There still were heaps of beheaded corpses by the stockades but no ravens were feasting on them any longer. All were flocking up to eat the druid, not bothering with the people below them, alive or dead.

“What are they eating up there?” Egon asked. “Is that not a corpse too?”

“It's a druid.” Dari said. “A very important druid. His name is Vengyr.”

The knight paused for a moment of consideration: “We hold that wretched sorcerer partly responsible for King Aele's death. Lord Zornbold will be pleased to hear that he is dead.”

“He's alive though.” Dari cautioned without thinking.

Egon looked up, narrowing his eyes before shaking his head and looking tiredly at her: “How can he be alive, he's being carried off in pieces!”

Dari was becoming annoyed but she knew she had to explain calmly: “He cannot be killed. I saw him smashed by a giantess, little more than a smear in rags, and still his blood was running, his body working, as it were.”

“But how?!”

She could hardly believe it herself. How could he be reduced to strings of meat and splinters of bone that could be reassembled. Yet there was no doubt that it was so. The ravens were carrying him somewhere clearly, somewhere away from the giant iron thing that sapped the magic. Then, nature herself would conspire once more to regenerate him. Xardas had best known of this before it happened.

“They're not eating.” The squire observed. “They're only carrying, look!”

Ravens were carrying Vengyr's bones in their beaks. It was almost done. Egon ground his teeth and marched off out of nowhere.

“Where are you going?” Dari asked, having trouble to keep up. The squire was hasting along with them as well.

It was a smaller tent he sought out, looking rather insignificant.

“Mage!” Dari could hear Egon bellow before she could enter after him.

“Jindrich Welzelin, at you service!” Managed a perplexed stocky man while hastily putting out a pipe that smelled suspiciously like mibeltube.

“I know your name!” Egon was indignant and impatient. “Can a druid survive being ripped to pieces?!”

The question was all wrong and the mage's robes were simple white linen under a grey travelling cloak which did not mark him for a particularly sophisticated member of his guild.

“Uh, it would...uh, I...” He stammered in confusion. “No. No, of course not, that would be preposterous.”

Egon turned to Dari with victory in his eyes.

“But this is Vengyr!” She cried out in frustration. “He cannot die!”

“Where, where is Vengyr?” The mage's eyes widened.

“Calm yourself!” Egon laughed, frustrated of this dire conversation himself. “She thinks that druid is still alive even while he is being fed to the birds by that giant!”

That the mage knew the name had been the first glimmer of hope. The second came when he rushed past all three of them to have a look for himself.

“Look, they're not eating.” The pimply, red-haired squire pointed out again. “They're only carrying, uh, my lord.”

“By the Twelve.” Jindrich muttered aghast and turned to Dari. “Are you sure about this?”

“Oh please, not you too!” Egon stemmed his fists into his sides.

Dari nodded urgently: “A mage tasked me to track him down. I followed him here. I expect the druids are trying to take him away from all this iron to let him regrow his powers.”

“Say no more.” Jindrich Welzelin's eyes were bright with understanding. “We must speak to Lord Zornbold and move at once. Such a mighty foe is best faced with an army at our back.”

'Foe?' Dari thought wearily. She had heard the druid blamed for Aele's death but had otherwise thought him to be an ally of the Andergastians, or, well, humans in general. Still she was glad something was moving at last.

Jindrich's robes were flapping wildly as he crossed the camp. Dari, Egon and his squire were right behind him.

“I am a good old Nostrian, of peaceable intent, I have a tiny pecker, but my sack is a tent!” Some drunk soldiers were singing roaringly.

“Lord Zornbold!”

The lord was waiting some distance from the giant metal thing, observing the dismal progress the climbers were making. Again and again they threw ropes with grappling hooks until they finally caught somewhere. Then they'd drag themselves up one by one and start over. Dari could see three ownerless helmets at the base of Janna and Laura's lair. Remnants of those that had fallen and been carried off.

“What is it, witcher?!” He turned most indignantly and regarded the mage with great distaste.

Jindrich did a reasonably well job at explaining the situation to him, but Dari could already guess what he would say.

“I want no part of this shenanigans!” He spat bewilderedly. “I would never have taken you along, had her majesty the queen not insisted! Gather your robes and get yourself out of my sight! You may perform your witchcraft elsewhere, or I will burn you!”

“My lord!” The mage was almost begging. “It is of great importance that we catch him! It is crucial in the fight against the giants, as it was the last time, if the histories can be believed! If nothing more let us catch him to avenge our beloved King Aele, your own forebear my lord!”

“What better to claim your legitimacy on?” Egon threw in cockily. By now, even he seemed convinced, for better or worse. “What better legacy to start with?”

That finally did the trick. The king-to-be had a thirst for glory.

The soldiers were unhappy to be told they'd be marching again. They were set on spending at least one night at Lauraville. Zornbold had a garrison stay behind to protect those still climbing up the mountain, guard the prisoners and continue rooting out heretics. Dari wanted to go check on Christina and Steve but there was no time and Egon wouldn't let her from his side now. Perhaps they'd be able to escape, for all the good that would do them. Léon and Thorsten would still be too weak to travel.

Of what use the soldiers would be, she was unsure. Some men at arms seemed hardened enough, others were simply peasants in surcoats, armed with spears and bows. Most were drunk. Zornbold left the tents, mules and heavy equipment behind. There was to be a forced march, which Dari was glad to see. She could not help but think that they would be much faster with a smaller group though. It was already afternoon.

How far could a raven fly? How fast? The direction was clear at least. East. Following the ravens would be easy so long as they could spot them overhead. Anything else remained to be seen.

“Your buttock is showing, can't you sit your horse proper?” Egon smiled cheekily at her.

“I'm not used to riding in a dress, much less a too short one.” She smiled back.

He wanted her to sit the small, spotted mare sideways, as was custom for women in dresses. Women wearing pants were not customary in Andergast. Nor was women riding. The horse was the squire's who now had to walk besides them like the simple soldiers. In the forest of Andergast it often made little difference whether one was afoot or on horseback, unless the horse was well trained.

“I knew you'd be trouble somehow.” Egon quipped. “I should have listened to my gut.”

“Don't say you'd rather have me be boring.” She chuckled reproachfully.

He grinned: “I'd have you anyway. I had to as soon as I saw you.”

She shuddered exaggeratedly so not to have this cheesy flirting continue. Now was not the time, Dari was too tense with anticipation. This whole chapter of her life would finally come to end, she hoped. She was careful not to count her chickens before they were hatched though too, eerily aware of the fact that they were marching towards a complete unknown.

Perhaps there'd only be Vengyr, still a shadow of his former self, and they'd pick him up and Dari would have to figure out a way to steal him. Then again, perhaps she didn't have to steal him. Perhaps Xardas would show when she called him through the amulet around her neck and teleport them out of there. Perhaps he'd even get her back to Gareth, but Dari doubted that the mage would be overly concerned with her well-being after this was done. There was the possibility that he'd kill her too, once she had done her part, but the possibility to be killed was hardly anything new to her, by now anyway, if it hadn't been before.

The forest they were traversing after a few hours of long march showed no signs of human activity, or so locally familiar scouts swore to Edorian Zornbold. They reported an unusual number of animal tracks though. Bears, foxes, cats, badgers, deer, boar, weasels...the list of animals was long.

Zornbold rode with his knights around him, which gave Dari many good spots to be and listen in on the conversations he had. It was all military. She learned that this force was a detachment from his main force that was hunting giants in some other place. They had heard of the two giantesses that caused so much mayhem and came to root them out. The fact that the story didn't quite add up did not seem as obvious to them as it was to her, even if one of the giantesses had turned out to be male.

It made sense though, and Dari should have expected something like this happen sooner or later. Even for all it's backwardness, Andergast was a kingdom and kings were not in the habit of having their power and control eroded without a fight.

Their force had three hundred or so armed rabble. No one was really sure how many exactly because no one wasted enough time on peasants to count them one by one. Then there were two hundred trained archers with longbows but only eighty armoured infantry with spears, swords, axes and such. Light cavalry was limited to fifty or so scouts, outriders and messengers. There were thirty four knights though, along with squires and other retinue, that made up almost eighty reasonably heavy horse. Dari wasn't accustomed to military tactics or strategy at the scale of anything above a street fight between rivalling gangs of criminals but heavy sounded a lot better than light as far as soldiers were concerned.

She could not help to find it strange however, that the knights were speaking as if expecting to be battling an army. It was just what they did, was her best guess, and perhaps it gave them courage. They could not like the prospect of battling an immensely powerful sorcerer any more than she did. If only they were moving faster.

They were moving fast already though. There was no leisure. More than once she observed a foot soldier wretch up the contents of his belly onto his surcoat. Three reports came in of people collapsing already. The weak and the old couldn't keep up with this pace. Edorian's face remained hard. He meant to get this over and be done with it as quickly as possible and Dari agreed with him on that.

When evening fell and Dari already expected having to spend the night in the forest, their destination came into view. They could see it from afar and it was as eerie and foreboding as befit a creature the magnitude of Vengyr. It was a formation of rock, grey, dark and high, reaching up out of the forest as though some giant the size of Janna had tossed it there. Something was atop it, looking ancient enough, mossy standing stones, several metres tall, forming a circle. That wasn't the worst though. Above it, cawing endlessly, were more ravens than Dari ever wished to see in her life. They flew in a circle there, forming a deep, black cloud of feathers like a storm.

And there were persons, standing sigil in between the stones.

“I'm having a particularly bad feeling about this!” Some knight announced through the chain mail covering his mouth.

“We should have brought the priests.” Muttered another.

“They'll be druids and witches and other evildoers!” A third one spat on the ground. “We are the gods' men, doing their work tonight lads!”

Still all agreed that it was prudent to pray before they would approach that frightening place. Dari didn't join in, though she had to climb off her horse and act the part so not to raise any bad blood with them. Instead she clutched her necklace and called for Xardas in her mind. It was time. Egon knelt right beside her, his temple resting against his sword. She hoped he'd survive. He was a good man.

When all was said and she climbed back onto her horse she found it strangely wooden, stiff and cold. When she looked down she almost fell. The drop was at least fifty metres.

“Don't fall now.” Xardas said beside her.

They were on a tree, one of those that grew higher than the others and stood like sentinels amongst the forest. At this height, the bark and needles had fallen off and the branches were gnarled and crooked by wind and strikes of lightning.

The old mage looked like she remembered him, sad and tired, even while he smiled.

“You have done well.” He said.

She wasn't sure if he meant it. What, actually, had she done after all? She was afraid he'd leave her on this unnaturally high tree. They could see the mountain and all that at a distance. He placed a hand on her broken ribs and the pain went away, just like that, as if it was the least he could do. Dari wondered if she would ever see the full potential of his power and if she wanted to.

“Couldn't you just go over there, get the druid and teleport back out?”

That nothing had changed over there told her that he had not done so already, but that was only a guess.

“Perhaps.” He smiled tiredly. “Though it strikes me as too dangerous. A large portion of druids and witches have taken the scent and assembled here. They will give your new friends quite a fight, I imagine.”

Faintly in the distance she could hear someone shouting her name. It was Egon, she knew, thinking she had made off. It made her sadder than it should have.

“Don't despair, little bird.” Xardas brushed her hair behind her ear with a finger. “Your Sir Egon is a valiant fighter.”

He tittered as he read her face: “You are so arrogant and vain that you think yourself too precious to fall in love with any one man.”

Dari hoped he was going to add anything to lend a higher purpose to the statement but he just let it hang there to her embarrassment. She wanted to change the subject.

“What are you going to do?”

“Sit and observe.” He teetered his feet back and forth in the air. “Sometimes, history has to unfold itself according to it's own devices. I wasn't there the last time to see what is about to happen.”

Dari didn't understand a word. “The last time?” She asked, trying to remember his book. Perhaps that was what he meant. “Has this happened before?”

“That red-haired squire.” He gave her a sad look. “Do you know his name?”

No, she didn't, she realized startled. She had never thought him important and calling him lad or boy was sufficient and it was what everyone else did. She couldn't see what the pimply squire had to do with any of this.

“Hal.” Xardas said heavily. “Like the emperor?”

She did remember Hal from Xardas' book, some conversation with Vengyr. She didn't know which Hal it was though. There had been several emperors with that name.

“Did you know that he is a distant relative of Empress Xaviera of Gareth?”

She was surprised and he could see it.

“Yes, some romantic tale of infidelity. Few people know, no body cares. But quite a coincidence indeed.” He mused.

That was even harder to make sense of, but she was wondering how he came to know about the boy.

“How long have you been watching me?” She asked.

“Some time.” He tittered again. “But that is not the question you mean to ask. You want to know if we are about to see the battle of Iron Forest repeating.”

She had played with that thought indeed, wondering if that was what his cryptic words were hinting at. She remembered the picture of Vengyr in the book, at the battle. If Emperor Hal had been there, there was at least one very vague similarity to now.

“But there's no great army marching on that hill.” She gestured. “Not even a thousand. And common men and druids are not allied at all. They mean to fight each other. Also, there's no giants!”

She had answered her own question, she realized, but she knew from his face that she was wrong.

“Hmm, the scale might be smaller yes.” He cocked his had with a sad look. “But Albino has been waiting for this moment, much like you and I. It consumes him, almost.”

“If Albino and his giants are here, why don't they strike now?” She was at a loss. “The druid is not yet recovered?”

“Exactly.” Xardas replied.

Dari sighed and looked up into the darkening sky. This was all over her head. It didn't make any sense. He put a hand on her shoulder and she could smell the faint scent of chalk on his fingers.

“Have I given you reason to be distressed?” He asked looking genuinely distraught. That was a new one for him.

“Help me understand.” She begged, shaking her head in dismay.

“It is hard to say why Albino does anything.” He replied soothingly. “He is immortal and fifteen metres tall. He could have walked anywhere and caused mayhem. He could have moved his force of giants away from their demise, yet he severed ties with them and left them behind. He is consumed with rage and vengeance.”

“So, we're about to witness two immortal forces battle each other?” Dari asked. “How is anyone going to win?”

“The same as last time.” Xardas replied. “Only this time, both of them have to go.”

Dari looked down the tree trying to asses if he would die if she pushed him off the branch.

She looked at him accusingly: “You said you needed him to ban Janna and Laura from this world. Did you lie?”

“Yes and no.” He looked at her sadly. “I fear it was what you needed to hear in that moment. The cleft in our dimension was torn by Vengyr's blood magic. To close it, his blood must be spilled, ideally after he has fulfilled his purpose.”

“And Janna and Laura?” Dari was angry and disappointed. The two giant sadists had to have a part in this. There had to be some comeuppance.

“Your giantesses have grazed the cleft.” He looked apologetic. “It changed them, oh yes. But other than that I fear they are as normal and mundane as a bale of hay and can no more be banned from this world than you can.”

He shrugged as if there was nothing to be done about that fact.

“Are you telling me there is nothing...supernatural about them? That they are from this world?”

It couldn't be true.

Xardas looked up to the sky: “Have you ever wondered what stars are?” He asked.

Dari sighed and looked away from him. Talking to him and hoping for answers that didn't raise more questions was as futile as praying for rain.

“And what's my part in this?” She asked briskly. “Do I sit on this tree and watch it all while you save the world?”

“Oh, on the contrary.” He allowed a smile. “You will hold the dagger.”

He produced it from his robes a long, toothed blade, black and shining. It was made from obsidian, queerly light, but Dari sensed that it was brittle. It was fine though. She'd bleed the wretched druid if it had to be.

“And can you get me back to Gareth afterwards?”

“Do you miss your old life so much?” He asked her sceptically, looking as though he was doing the remembering and not her.

Dari wasn't sure but this time she would be cryptic and not answer him, she decided.

A war horn blew in the distance. The battle was about to begin. It was hard to tell anything more than the general happenings from her vantage point and Xardas made no effort to get them both closer. There was no sign of Albino on that rocky hill, that much was clear. The ravens started to dart down to the ground and at the attackers who responded with arrows. Other ravens flew to the ground and rose as men at once.

The druids and witches were answering the onslaught of Andergastian longbow fire with spells, it seemed. Dari could see rocks and leaves flying against the mundane men that meant to fight their way up to the hill. If Vengyr was back on his feet by now, she couldn't tell either, only guess that he was not.

The opening of the battle was short but brutal. The Andergastians made only little advances while the druids and witches, neither carrying armour nor shields, fell victims to the arrows by mass. The attempt to storm the hill on horseback had failed because it was too steep and so the men dismounted to attack on foot. They were met by a pack of beasts, bears, wolves and such that threw themselves at the attackers.

Dari could see that the druids were picking small pebbles or hands of them off the ground and cast them. In mid air, a single stone would turn into a boulder or a fistful of pebbles into an avalanche of larger ones. She could only guess the horrors at the receiving end of those, but she knew that the rabble would not stand long against it. Actually, it seemed more likely for them to turn and run at the first sign of sorcery. Zornbold had been a fool to bring them and that was the way it came.

They had fought their first third onto the steep of the hill against rocks and beasts when the mob of white surcoats broke at both flanks at once. The centre was not looking very good any longer either, bogged down because it suffered the most concentrated barrage of flying rock. Singular men started attacking their own as well, driven by total madness with no regard for their own life.

Dari peered frantically for any sign of Egon but it was far too far away. Even though most of the rabble seemed to have turned craven, the battle took another turn when the onslaught of arcane attack started to die down. The power of the druids and witches was depleting. But as men in shining armour still scaled the hill, more beasts broke out of the forest to the back of them, driving the fleeing rabble. It was complete and utter chaos. Men and beasts were dying by the droves and the field of battle was expanding, disintegrating and becoming less dense.

That was when a voice thundered over the crest of the trees: “Brothers, sisters, save your powers! This is not the enemy!”

It was Vengyr, Dari knew immediately.

“I am your enemy!” Another voice answered. Albino.

“Ah.” Xardas made, satisfied.

From the other side of the hill, just hoisting itself onto the top, a huge figure emerged. It was a man, gigantic and white as fog with red, glowing eyes. He saw something in the middle of the stone circle and stormed towards it, a visage of pure evil on his huge face. The explosion that followed blew everyone atop the hill off into the forest and disintegrated the very stone circle itself. A shock wave rushed over the top of the trees like a massive gust of wind. Their tree shook violently and Dari might have fallen had Xardas not held her fast.

The mighty giant had lost his footing and tumbled to the ground but he was getting up, red, glowing eyes full of stinging hatred.

“It is time.” Xardas said, grabbed Dari's hand and yanked both of them forward off the tree. Dari screamed, but before she could even begin to feel like falling her feet were on cold, solid stone. The giant was rising in front of them to the left, looking down at Vengyr on the ground. The druid was hurt, again if not from before, and held a stone clutched in his fist, scribbling something in the ground that looked like runes.

“You fool!” The giant laughed hatefully. “You know as well as I that I cannot be destroyed!”

The druid turned on the ground to face him: “A prison then, like last time.”

Their voices were impossibly loud.

“You have no emperor to sacrifice this time!” The giant took a victorious step forward.

Vengyr climbed hurtingly to his feet and spread his arms: “The blood has already been spilled!”

Hal, Dari knew.

“No!” The giant screamed when the runes the druid had scratched into the ground began to glow in golden light. A prison of lightning engulfed Albino all at once, hissing and cracking. It came from the ground and from the sky all at once. Dari felt stupidly misplaced in her peasant dress and white wool cap, witnessing the reshaping of the world with her eyes. The earth opened beneath the pale beast to swallow it like a giant, gaping maw. Vengyr lowered his arms and the giant lowered with them. They were so close that Dari could see the white in his eyes, yet he was so focused on what he was doing that he did not notice anything else. The beast howled but that was nothing against the lights and noises coming out of that hole.

At last, Vengyr crossed his arms and the hole sealed shut. All light and noises faded as soon as they had come.

Now there were only the three of them left on top of the hill. Vengyr broke down, breathing heavily. He was weak. Dari knew what do. Her feet almost moved on their own.

“You?” He whispered astounded when she stood over him, dagger in hand.

Once again the ground began to glow, but instead of golden and white light it was a piercing yellowish green this time. Hundreds, upon hundreds of runes and crude depictions had been drawn, so small that it wouldn't have been noticeable before they started glowing. It was frightening but Dari was true to her purpose.

She drew the dagger across Vengyr's throat with a quick backhand slash. She hoped that it would work, that Xardas was right. If he wasn't, the immortal druid would recover quickly and kill her somehow, or worse. She stepped aside to avoid the torrent of blood as she was experienced to do. For a normal person, there would be one quick surge, then a second and only a trickle after that. Dari didn't know what she expected with Vengyr, perhaps no blood at all. He had not bled particularly much when she had found him at Ludwig's keep.

But the waterfall of blood rushing out of the druid's opened throat was nothing short of unnatural this time. It hit Dari, drenched her dress, and she couldn't help but notice that it was eerily cold. Xardas stood much like Vengyr had, arms spread and mumbling a formula. Then the torrent stopped and the druid died. The blood was a thick pool on the ground, running along the lines of green light.

Then they faded as well.

“Is it done?” She asked Xardas. She was pretty certain that it was. She knew a dead man when she saw one and Vengyr's bodily functions had all ceased at last.

Xardas smiled at her in that way he had. He stepped over and took her by the arm. She expected to be teleported and closed her eyes in anticipation of blinking and suddenly seeing Gareth before her eyes. Her thoughts were with Egon. She really liked him but in the end it was probably better that they were separated, for him and her. What ever desires there might have been for each other, he was a knight in the service of backwards Andergast with a war to fight, and she was the queen of the Garethian underworld. She perhaps wasn't any more by now as life moved on in the shadows as it did in the light, but she would work to reclaim her station soon enough.

But nothing happened.

When she opened her eyes Xardas' demeanour was nothing like she would have expected. There was no sad look, no smile, not even a hint of confidence. The old mage looked nothing but bewildered and afraid.

“No, no, it cannot be!” He mumbled frantically, performing weird gestures with his hands. If she expected to see any magic she was wrong. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. He looked like a madman.

“Did something go wrong?” She asked concerned. This was not good at all.

He turned to her, white eyed, mouth agape: “The magic!”

She heard the thrum of a bow and an arrow slammed into his head sideways. Xardas gave a sigh and fell over backwards, dead as a rock.

Dari spun. Egon stood there, at the edge of the steep hill with a longbow in his hand. He drew the next arrow. She looked at him, deep into his eyes. He looked sad, disappointed and angry.

“What happened?” She asked. It was what his face was asking too but she had no idea.

He put the arrow to the string and drew at her. Dari looked at the obsidian dagger in her hand, that brittle thing that could never hope to stand against chain mail. She dropped it and it shattered in two upon the stones.

Egon held the bow and arrow steady, aiming straight at her heart. He looked so sad, so betrayed. He meant to kill her, Dari understood strangely.

“Don't kill me.” She whispered.

A tear ran down his face: “Zornbold is injured gravely, we should never have come here! You...”

“But the druid was here, as I said, wasn't he?”

That he could not argue with, for whatever good that did her.

“You never won a great victory at the village. But we did here.” She went on. Was she lying? She didn't know.

The truth of it was dubious at best. Albino was gone and that was good. Vengyr was dead, whatever ill he had done repaired, or so Xardas had predicted. But something must have gone wrong. It was obvious that none of them knew what it was. Xardas might have known, but he was dead, shot down like a common old man. Perhaps that was the answer but Egon would never understand that. Whatever happened, Dari wanted to live.

“Hal is dead, isn't he?” She asked softly.

Egon gravely nodded his head: “I couldn't protect him. I was preoccupied looking for you. I was worried! Where were you?!”

She winced, not wanting the boy's unfortunate but necessary death be pinned on her.

“My place was elsewhere.” She finally said. Keeping it cryptic and vague would help him fill the gaps with whatever he needed to hear. It was what Xardas would have said. She hoped he didn't follow her up on it. Xardas always seemed to know what happened and what would happen except for that very last thing what ever it was. Dari did not have that advantage but Egon's face softened.

He lowered the bow: “Why are you drenched in blood?”

She didn't bother replying and just ran towards him instead. He was spattered with blood himself, though none was his own either. She pressed her face against his cold hard chest.

“It is over.” She whispered. It was a good thing to say, though none was actually over. If Xardas was right, Janna and Laura were still very much alive and trampling. Also, Dari was still stuck with the Andergastians and something greater had happened, something of such magnitude that they were far too small and unimportant to grasp.

“Sir Egon!” A knight's head poked over the crest of the hill just in time. “His lordship is in pain, we have to move!”

“Did you find the mage Welzelin?” Egon asked back at him.

The knight shook his head: “His lordship does not like the sorcerer about him. Besides, it seems the man has turned craven. He's neither amongst the dead nor living.”

“Or perhaps he got eaten by a bear.” Egon suggested.

That was the right thing to say. Dari had liked the mage, in a way. He had been crucial in the whole affair of getting here. She wished he was well.

Egon may have loved her but did not fully trust her either as was his right. That much was made clear by the still iron grip around her arm. Maybe Dari could have gotten a hold of his weapon and killed him with a quick, sudden strike, but there was nowhere to go out here, alone and without supplies. But if truth be told, she was lucky to be alive and unhurt. That much could not be said about Lord Edorian Zornbold however. When the explosion happened and the stones had been blown off the summit of the hill one had come down here.

Lord Zornbold was alive but suffered a grievously bleeding laceration to the head, a broken right arm and a hideously crushed leg. He was beside himself with pain. Two other knights were dead in the imprint of the stone, crushed to death. Dari was familiar with the sight and it didn't bother her, but the men were troubled. Next to the knights there were perhaps twenty bowmen, five heavy infantry and a few armed peasants left. The rest had fled or died in the battle.

The horses were gone, bar one, having panicked on account of the fighting, the beasts and the magic. There were no priests, no mage, no medicus. The druids had taken to their heels as well, or died. There were many dead. There was only Dari with reasonable knowledge of bones and the body, mostly for the purpose of killing rather than healing but she was the only one equiped to really help this man.

But she was torn. Perhaps helping Zornbold would help her rebuild trust with Egon and the Andergastians. But others were hurt as well, and maybe she'd be delegated to be a healer for all of them. The worst would be if Zornbold died despite of her treatment. Then maybe they'd even blame his death on her. But if they blamed Vengyr for Aele, they'd most likely blame her anyway if the future king died.

She decided to do her part. His lordship was groaning when they loaded him onto the horse and tied him to it but not losing too much blood. In lack of clean bandaging and time to boil any rags, Dari advised that it was prudent to leave the wounds open. She'd have to realign the bones in his leg that were sticking out of the flesh later. All in all he should thank Phex for the fact that he was breathing even though he might still succumb to infection or never walk on that leg again, perhaps even lose it.

It was back to Lauraville now, through the forest, with night breaking, only one horse, carrying a half-dead lord and everyone tired and bloodied.

At least the tingling in her neck was gone at last.