Chapter 9

It was a good distance to the old elden temple but if everything went
smoothly they would arrive on the arranged day.  The fact that they were
alive and well and carrying the shield they had sought testified to their
good fortune.

'Do you think our luck will hold?' queried Morgain.

'It has held so far,' replied Gwidian.

Cretin trotted along beside them. 'I think we are stretching lady fortune
to her limits.'

'Now that is an interesting thought, who is lady fortune?' queried Morgain.

'Morgain is being silly, danger grows by the moment.'

'What are you jibbering about, Cretin, what danger?' Gwidian stared
directly at the darkworld creature.

'We are doing too well.  We are in danger.  We have the power to defend
against the evil shades.  We have the power to foil Nomarns plans.' Cretin
stopped dead in his tracks and shouted after the brothers. 'They are not
going to allow us to do this.'

Morgain and Gwidian turned their mounts and cantered back to face Cretin.

'You mean the shades are going to attack us before we reach the temple,'
said Gwidian, bringing his horse to a halt.

'Cretin thinks their minions will,' said Cretin.

'You believe we are being followed,' suggested Morgain.

'Eyes everywhere.'

Both Gwidian and Morgain looked around.  They saw nothing but their blood
began to run cold.

'Who is following us?' demanded Gwidian.

'Many men ride behind us, demons stalk our flanks.'

'How do you know?' queried Morgain.

Cretin gave him a disgusted look. 'The ground, feel the ground.' He began
marching on the spot.

Gwidian dismounted and stood a moment.  Cretin ceased his marching. Gwidian
got down on his hands and knees as if he was feeling for vibrations.

'Gwidian feels it ?' said Cretin. 'Cretin feels it.'

Gwidian gave him a dubious look, then put an ear to the ground. 'Riders,
Cretin is right, we are being followed.'

'Of course Cretin is right.  I smell demons as well.'

'What now?' queried Morgain.

'We ride like the wind,' replied Gwidian.

'To the temple?'

'The stonesies are nearer,' intervened Cretin.

'Stonesies,' repeated Morgain.

'The ring stonesies.'

'The seven stones.  What good are they?  We still have to make our way to
the temple.  Would it not be better to ride straight there?'  Morgain was
looking uncomfortable.

'If we stay here much longer we will be riding nowhere,' said Gwidian
hastily.

'Seven stones for seven shades,' said Cretin in a mischievous voice. 'Did
you not listen to Jorm the last time we passed that way?'

'No evil may enter the circle,' said Morgain thoughtfully.

'What if it is an old wives tale?' said Gwidian. 'And besides, what good
does it do sitting in the centre of the stones.  We cannot sit there
forever?'

By now the hoofbeats were audible.

'Follow Cretin,' shouted Cretin, setting off at a jog.

Gwidian and Morgain looked at one another for a few moments before they
followed.  Both had a look of resignation on their faces.

They now followed Cretins steady pace looking behind every few moments.

'They will not catch us.  Horsies only run like the wind for a short
distance.  Cretin will know if they draw close.  He feels it in his
feeties.'

'How can you feel anything when we ride beside you?' snorted Gwidian.

Cretin did not answer.

The afternoon drew on.  Two leagues they covered before they came to a
halt.  Cretin stood motionless feeling the earth with his feet. 'They are
not so near now.'

Morgain looked up at the sun. 'We are heading for the stones, are we not?'

'Of course,' replied Cretin. 'We will not lose our enemies.  Even if men
are not good trackers my brethren are.  They will hound us until we are
cornered... Horses following us are tired now, we can travel a little
slower.'

'What about your brethren?' queried Gwidian, with a hint of sarcasm in his
voice.

'They are only a few.  They will wait and watch.'

'For how long?' prompted Morgain.

'Not too long.  If they guess we are heading for the stonesies they will
try to prevent us.  If the men cannot catch us they will have to find more
demons... and there are many to be found.'

'Who are 'they'?' queried Morgain.

'The shades, who else?'

'Who else indeed?'  reaffirmed Gwidian.  Once upon a time he may have had a
joke for this situation, but smiles were becoming few and far between.

They travelled on until late in the day and even then their break was
short.  Forever they moved on and forever did their pursuers track them.
About them bushes rustled and shadows flitted through the night. Dawn came;
a cool grey dawn.  Gwidians face hardened.  His eyes were narrow and his
beard unkempt. He spoke little.

Morgain cantered his horse behind Cretin.  His face showed no sign of
emotion, although his eyes moved from side to side surveying their
surroundings.

They paused at noon.  The trees offered them a few berries and the ground
several roots, Cretin ate naught, though it was well within his powers to
catch small game.  He looked around and felt the ground. 'They are drawing
near my friends, the power of Nomarn is driving them on.'

They continued through the afternoon and most of the night. Their mounts
were weary so at times they dismounted and walked.

They met the dawn with leaden eyes.  Their muscles were sore and aching.
'How much further?' queried Morgain.

'A day perhaps,' replied Gwidian.

'We will be there by nightfall,' said Cretin.  He pointed to the North.

Both Gwidian and Morgain turned to look.  There on the horizon were a large
party of riders.

'They are within striking distance,' said Gwidian in a matter of fact voice.

'Yes, but they seem to be waiting,' replied Morgain. 'They have been
waiting for a long time.'

'We must move on,' said Cretin in a staunch voice. 'Let them get too close
and they will attack.'

'Do we ride our mounts into the ground?' said Gwidian. 'What would that
achieve?'

Cretin began to move on.  His pace was no faster than before. The brothers
followed, their horses travelling little more than walking pace.

'Does he never tire,' quipped Morgain.

Slowly they moved towards the ringstones but the closer they became the
nearer drew the riders in their wake.  Time seemed to crawl by as they
journeyed on, though a sense of urgency hung over all of them.

At the rounding of a hill the stones came into view standing stark against
the skyline, they urged their horses onward.

'What are those small figures moving about down there?' said Morgain in a
strong voice.

'It looks like a herd of some kind,' replied Gwidian.

'Demons,' stated Cretin. 'It is a writhe of demons.'

Morgain shot him a glance. 'Then why are we heading towards them?'

In a simple voice Cretin replied, 'Because there is nowhere else to go.'

Gwidian looked over his shoulders as he rode downward.  The hilltop behind
was alive with riders. 'There is no turning back now,' he called, then he
spurred his horse faster.

'Hold your shield before you and draw your sword.  They will fear their
power,' rasped Cretin.

Gwidian raised his shield and drew his sword. 'The sword has no power.'

'They will feel the power. They will not pinpoint its source.'

Gwidian and Morgain brought their horses to full gallop while Cretin opened
his wings to circle westward and glide towards the stones.

An arrow whistled by Morgains ear. 'Those animals behind are gaining,' he
grunted, 'and those hellish creatures are getting closer.'

'Close ranks,' called Gwidian. 'Stay close to me.'

It seemed an impenetrable wall of writhing forms between the brothers and
the stones but to their surprise the wall began to part as they approached,
then close again as they passed through.

The riders behind ceased their chase as they approached the wall, as if
their task was done.

'Not much further,' called Morgain, swinging his sword. 'I think they are
going to let us through.'

Both mens brows were heavy with perspiration.  The horses they rode were
panting for breath.

'We are going to make it,' called Morgain, then without warning a demon
struck.  It glided silently from Morgains rear, its legs hanging low.  It
snatched at his shoulders, sinking its talons deep into Morgains flesh.  It
did not have the power to lift him into the air but forced him from the
saddle of his mount.  They both hit the ground in a heap.  Morgain was
momentarily dazed though he quickly realized his predicament.  The demon
released his shoulders then snatched at his throat with its claws.

Morgain avoided the snatch by less than a thumb nail.  He reached for his
sword which was no more than an arms length away.  The demon grabbed his
legs.

Gwidian saw his brother fall and immediately turned his horse about to hue
his way back to his brothers side.  He called to Morgain, then realised
there was no way his brother could free himself.  He bent low from his
mount and slashed at the arms which restrained Morgain.  One arm he
severed, the other quickly released its grip.  Morgain half climbed and was
half pulled onto Gwidians horse.  Again Gwidian turned his mount, then
galloped towards the stones.  The opposition was fierce but the
determination of Gwidian carried them to their goal.

                                    *

The setting sun saw three figures in the centre of the circle of stones.
Morgain was injured severely and lay on the grassy earth, his head propped
on Gwidians cloak.  Gwidian himself sat and watched over his brother.
There was little he could do. Morgains shoulders had been pierced deeply by
the darkworld creature, as if he had been stabbed by many knives.  Gwidian
wondered if those talons bore venom.

Cretin surveyed their surroundings.  He had helped to calm Morgain by
methods only he understood, now he watched the milling hordes of his
brethren; he seemed unsure what their next move might be.

As the last rays of light struck the stones Cretin walked to the most
easterly stone and began to chant.

Morgain lifted himself onto one elbow and with a painful smile he said,
'Cretin gives us a song, there is yet some cheer in the world.'

'Do not speak, brother.  You need all your strength.'

Both watched as Cretin chortled on. 'Am I hallucinating, or do I see that
stone crumbling?'

Gwidian watched a few moments then said, 'Perhaps we both hallucinate, a
trick of the sun perhaps for I too see the stone crumbling.'

They watched as powder, then larger pieces, fell to the ground. The whole
slab seemed to be disintegrating.  Gwidian rubbed his eyes and when they
cleared the stone had gone.  In its place stood a tall lean man of elden
features; he seemed to carry many years for his beard was long and white
but his eyes shone brightly.  He bowed before Cretin and seemed to say,
'My lady.'

Cretin turned and walked towards the brothers.  The man followed; he was
looking around and smelling the fragrances in the air as he drew closer.

Gwidian stood erect and stared straight into the eyes of Cretins
companion. 'I have seen Cretin do some strange things,' he mumbled.

The new arrival came to a halt.  At first he paid little attention to
Gwidian, but after he had done sniffing and looking he said, 'Troublesome
mortals,' then he began flexing his muscles.

'Who or what are you?' demanded Gwidian in a rough voice.

The character ignored him.

'This is Palanzarr,' said Cretin. 'He is one of the seven wizards - one of
the elden wise.'

Palanzarr halted his actions and turned to Gwidian. 'Not one of the seven,'
he said in a commanding voice. 'I am number one of the seven.'

'That is all we need,' said Morgain, in a weak voice, 'an over-confident
elden.'

'Elden,' said Palanzarr. 'I am not a mere elden.  I am the great Palanzarr,
master of the mystic arts.'

Morgain shook his head then coughed. 'If I had a hat you could pull me out
a ...' his voice trailed off, then he began to cough again.

'You dare to mock me,' growled Palanzarr.  A staff appeared instantly in
his hands.  He slammed it against the ground and the earth trembled.

The brothers steadied themselves - a look of complete surprise on their
faces.

'You are lucky,' chortled Cretin. 'Once upon a time he would have flayed
you for such insolence, but now he is a good wizard.  He is tired of being
an evil monolith to the past.  Is that not true Palanzarr?'

Palanzarrs eyes narrowed and moved to Cretin. 'There is no one left in this
world who can return me to...'

'You are 'one' Palanzarr.  The days of the seven are over,' chortled Cretin.

Palanzarr looked studious for a moment. 'But of course you will release my
friends.  As seven we may defeat all our enemies.'

Cretin shook his head. 'Cretins not a fool.'

'We could bring your friend back to health.'

Gwidian turned towards Cretin, his eyes said what his mouth did not.

'I cannot do it,' said Cretin, in a solemn voice. 'Do not even ask me.'

Gwidian turned towards Palanzarr. 'I deem you are not the greatest wizard
of all time sir, if you cannot heal just one single man.'

'My powers are of the etherworld.  To heal his wounds of evil is but a
simple task, the flesh of mortals however must heal itself.' Palanzarr
lifted a hand above Morgain and flakes like sparkling snow fell from his
palm to land upon Morgains wounds. 'All he needs now is time and care, but
beware those wounds are open to disease.'

Gwidian noted a slight change in Morgains face, he looked more comfortable,
as he lay back on the cloak.

Beyond the circle demons were gathering into large groups.  Men could also
be seen though they kept themselves separate from the darkworld creatures.

Gwidian stood in the centre of the circle and stretched out his right arm
with pointed finger.  He turned a full circle then said to Palanzarr, 'And
what would the great wizard of good do about our enemies beyond the stones?'

Palanzarr did not bother to look where Gwidian pointed. 'They are only
puppets.  I have watched them come and go from my place of reverence in the
circle.  Do not trouble yourself with beings such as those.'

'Mighty words, indeed.  Do you intend to bury them all in sparkling snow?'

'Your mouth is not your ally... friend.  You would be wise to curb its use.'

Cretin turned his back on Palanzarr and spoke softly, 'You would do well to
heed his words.  One so powerful as Palanzarr may find it difficult to
tolerate you, regardless of consequence.'

Palanzarr continued his exercises as if Gwidian and Cretin did not exist.
He walked a little; he talked to himself a little; he seemed to be enjoying
a new found life.

'Are you serious, Cretin?  Do you expect me to believe he is going to stop
an army single handed?'

'He seems to think he can... a very tricky wizard.'

'He could not even heal my brother.'

'He could have made your brother believe he was well.'

'What use is that; look your friends are beginning to move.'

Cretins voice dropped an octave and he hissed his next words to Gwidian.
'Do you never learn?  Have you not seen the power of the wraiths?  Do you
not realize who constrained... my friends in days gone by?'

Gwidian understood Cretins words but such was his scepticism he did not
take him seriously.

'We will soon find out how clever our wizard is,' said Gwidian, then he
knelt by his brothers side.

The demons and men forged themselves into fighting units around the
circle.  The last rays of the sun had disappeared but the moon rode high in
the sky, casting its silvery light on the landscape.  Only now did
Palanzarr begin to take interest.

He glanced around the circle, mist was beginning to form near the ground
and upon the mist a silent figure glided.  It came to rest in the place of
the missing stone.

'See the purple sash,' whispered Cretin. 'That is the shade of Tordoth.'

An evil voice laughed.  Both Gwidian and Morgain tried to shut it out of
their minds, but it seemed impossible.

'Depart the circle, wizard, this battle is not your affair,' boomed the
evil voice.

'It is I who shall decide or were you not aware; this circle is a hallowed
place, a place which is so rare.' Palanzarr stood to his full height and
gripped his staff with both hands.

'My servants will cut you down, wizard, standing in these wretches stead.'
Tordoth raised a bony finger and pointed towards the brothers and Cretin.

'I stand where I please, Wraith, and I will stop your forces dead.'

Tordoth laughed. 'And how will you stop my bowmen, wizard; their arrows
will seal your fate.'

'Only snakes dwell in your bowmans quivers and they do not fly straight.'

A scream pierced the cool night air.

'That was close,' muttered Cretin. 'Try and protect yourself with the
shield and whatever else you can find.'

Gwidian looked puzzled.

'They only see snakes.  A stray arrow or any weapon could strike you down.'

'By the sound of that scream those arrows have teeth,' mumbled Morgain.

The wraith seemed to fade into the darkness and as it disappeared the
demons began to move, their hideous faces lit dimly by the moon. The first
group clawed their way towards the missing stone.

Palanzarr lifted his staff above his head and the ground before the demons
began to heave. Skeletal hands began to appear from the earth snatching and
grabbing at the taloned feet of the demons; dragging them down into a soily
grave. To the south more demons approached, snarling and hissing as they
made their way towards the circle. Palanzarr pointed his staff at the
grass beneath them. The ground shuddered and split. A great chasm opened
beneath their feet; they screamed and howled as they plummeted down a
bottomless pit.

To the north riders approached. The wizard held his staff before him.
Flames burst forth to engulf them. The air filled with the stench of
burning flesh, and the sounds of pain and agony tolled the ending of many
lives.

'WHERE ARE YOUR SERVANTS NOW?' cried Palanzarr.

The wraith appeared at the perimeter of the circle, at first no more than a
shadow then its form took substance. 'You have done well wizard, but these
menials were of no consequence. You have merely sealed your own fate.
Nomarn does not forgive easily and he will be filled with wrath and hate.'

Palanzarrs eyes glared with defiance and loathing. 'Bring forth your master
before me, lest it be too late. And I will show him power that no one can
gestate.'

The wraith held its arms to the sky. A wind sprang from nowhere to howl
between the stones. Dark clouds rolled over the moon, and a stench of evil
filled the air; total darkness blanketed the landscape. Vision was
impossible. 'You think you have me beaten. You think you save this land,
but I hold the veil of darkness, a power you cannot withstand.'

Palanzarr let his staff fall to the ground, though no one saw it drop, then
he held his palms upwards before him. Shafts of brilliant white light sped
skyward. It was a though he held the beams in his hands. 'There are things
you have forgotten. There is no place to hide. For I have the power of
goodness, invincible towers of light.' Palanzarr noted Tordoths position,
then the light vanished momentarily while he shifted his palms to face the
wraith.

Tordoth manoeuvred quickly into a defensive stance. It held its own palms
towards Palanzarr; its left arm outstretched and its right nearer to its
cloak. An instant later the shafts of white light re-appeared and shot
towards Tordorth, at arms length they ricocheted upwards as if some
invisible force had deflected them. The shafts exploded into colour and the
sky was filled with pyrotechnics, lighting the land for many leagues.

Tordoth looked uncomfortable, it seemed in danger of being overpowered.

Gwidian and Morgain looked on incredulously, then a voice rolled in their
minds. 'This story is not yet ended Palanzarr, we will meet again in the
fires of hell.'

For now it was over - the wraith simply vanished. The shade of Tordoth
existed in their vicinity no longer. The odour of evil was gone.

Gwidian climbed to his feet as the clouds began to dissipate and the wind
calmed to silence.

'Promise me one thing,' said Morgain weakly as he looked at Gwidian.

'What is that, my brother?'

'Do not aggravate Palanzarr again.'

Gwidian smiled.

They all remained in the circle that night. Palanzarr produced a fire to
sit around, although no one knew for sure whether it was real or simply a
figment of their imagination. He also produced a roast. Where he had
conjured it from did not really matter, it certainly seemed to fill their
stomachs. Gwidians temper had cooled, he dressed his brothers wounds, then
they all sat and talked as they watched the flames flickering upward,
especially Palanzarr. A strange calm had come over him though none knew
why. He told tales of the elden days - not only of his own exploits but of
his kindred. He was indeed an elden though his powers set him apart from
most of his people. He talked also of the coming of men to these lands and
why the elden people had to depart to the Outerworld, where all creatures
from the distant past now dwelt. It was all so strange and fascinating to
Morgain and Gwidian and at times seemed no more than folklore and fairy
tales.

Eventually the story telling ceased and both Gwidian and Morgain settled
down to rest. Gwidian still had reservations about Palanzarr but his
eyelids forsook him and both he and his brother fell into a deep dreamless
sleep.

                                    *

It was late in the morning when Gwidian opened his eyes. At first his face
looked blank, then recollections of the previous night flooded his mind. He
wondered if it might have all been a dream, but as he climbed to his feet
and looked around he noted a stone was missing. He looked down to see his
brother still sleeping, then he turned to Cretin, who stood a few paces to
the north, before walking to where the stone had stood.

He stood a while on the flattened imprint where the stone had been, staring
blankly at the ground, then he lifted his eyes and walked a little. The pit
should have been nearby, where the demons had plummeted to their doom but
the land was green and fertile. He ran from one stone to the next looking
about. He did indeed see the occasional demon lying dormant; he saw too the
bodies of the riders which had pursued them; but the masses which had been
slaughtered the previous night had vanished without disturbing a blade of
grass.

Eventually he completed the circle and again stood where the missing stone
should have been but this time a realisation began to sweep over him. He
had been a part of a dream; a dream as real as the air he breathed; a part
of a battle played out in the minds of magicians, though some of the
players were of flesh and blood.

The sound of trickling water came to his ears and for an instant it seemed
he had stood upon this spot before. Something drew his eyes downward until
he again looked at the ground, this time a sparkle of light shone from the
compressed earth. He bent down and scraped the soil around the glistening
object until is was completely uncovered. He picked it up and held it
before his eyes. It was a large gem stone of great beauty; a crystal whose
light seemed to shift and sway as he looked upon it. Soft words drifted
through his mind and seemed to run with the trickling of the water.

'This is the gift I leave you, Gwidian, look after it well. If you again
need my assistance use it to call me, but be warned, I am no longer a part
of your world, nor have I been for countless ages, though I may come to
your aid once more, that will be our final meeting.'

'WHERE ARE YOU,' Gwidian called, turning his head from left to right.

'I stand upon the endless stream of time, which carries me to my home, take
care friend, and may all your burdens be light ones.'

The voice of Palanzarr drifted away and so too did the sound of the
trickling stream. Gwidian turned back towards his brother, and Cretin who
was now sat by his side. He walked toward them slowly still looking at the
jewel he held.

Morgain was by now awake though his complexion was ashen.

'What have you there?' queried Morgain.

Gwidian came to a halt. 'A gem stone... The gem stone; the helvstone of
fable!' He looked at Cretin with questioning eyes.

Cretin shook his head. 'A call stone -  a Kreth. It has its secrets.'

'I feel its power,' said Gwidian. 'I know it carries the power of the
helvstone.'

'True,' said Cretin.

Gwidian frowned at Cretin.

'Hey diggle diggle you have found a riddle,' Cretins voice was mischievous.

There were a great many explanations that Gwidian required from Cretin, but
he knew he would not get them. What possible sway could a demon have over
an elden wizard was just one question. He sighed, then moved his eyes to
Morgain. 'We have to move on, do you think you are well enough to travel?'

                                    *

They departed the circle and rode westward. They had only covered a league
when it became obvious that Morgain  could not complete the journey, still
they rode on.

At nightfall a distant light was spotted. It signified a homestead. Morgain
was in great pain and sweat hung on his brow. A fever had taken him and to
try and continue their quest would be fatal, though there was no guarantee
he would live even if they halted.

They made their way towards the light. Like most homesteads the occupants
kept guard dogs to give warning of the arrival of strangers and this one
was no exception.

As they neared the buildings the dogs began to yap. Cretin came to a halt
while Gwidian rode on with his brother.

They were met by a thick set man who carried what looked like a rather
nasty looking multi-pronged farming implement. Gwidian had no idea what it
was but he eyed it with suspicion.

'WHO ARE YOU?' called the man.

Gwidian, who sat on his horse some ten paces away from the porch was
getting annoyed at the incessant yapping of the dogs. 'Can you not hush
your animals, sir, so we may talk?'

The man remained silent for a moment then turned to his dogs and in a deep
commanding voice he snapped, 'Quiet.' The dogs fell instantly silent.

Gwidian looked a little surprised, 'My name is Gwidian. My brother here is
seriously injured. We seek help.' Gwidian noticed the shutters of the house
opening slightly to allow curious eyes to peep out.

'We want no strangers here,' said the man. 'We have enough troubles of our
own.'

'But we cannot travel on,' insisted Gwidian.

'No matter, we have our own problems.'

The figure of a middle aged women joined the man, 'Who is it Jon?'

'I thought I told you to stay indoors.'

'My name is Gwidian. My brother is wounded.' Gwidian walked his horse a
little closer.

'How did it happen?' queried the women.

'We were attacked by demons.'

A fearful look crossed the homesteaders faces. 'We want nothing to do with
demons,' said the man.

Morgains head was swimming but still he managed to speak, 'Neither did we,
good people.' He slumped forward in his saddle. Gwidian quickly dismounted
to help his brother to the ground.

The women looked anxious.

A young boy of around ten years of age came through the doorway dressed in
a sleeping gown. He stared at his parents and in a pleading voice said,
'You have to help them father.'

'Get back inside,' growled the man.

'But you cannot just leave them,' said the boy.

The women cast a glance at her man then scurried down the porch steps to
join Gwidian. She could see where Morgain had been wounded by the rips in
his tunic. 'We must get him inside.'

Jon was taken aback by the actions of his family, but by the time Gwidian
had reached the entrance to the house, he was holding the door open.

Gwidian appreciated this gesture and with Morgain leaning heavily on his
shoulder, he entered; then stopped; his face a picture of surprise. There
was a dining table in the middle of the room; around it was four chairs. On
the chairs sat four young children - three boys and a girl. Beyond the
table was a fire. A pace in front of the fire was a bathtub; in it sat two
girls, splashing happily. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked
at Gwidian - beaming smiles on their faces.

'Follow me,' said Jon. He led Gwidian and Morgain across the floor to a
small backroom. Near the far wall was a bench draped with a blanket.
'Lay him on the bench,' said Jon.

Gwidian did as he was requested; making Morgain as comfortable as possible;
then he stood and faced Jon. 'I did not realise...'

Jon shrugged. 'Perhaps you see why I am dubious of strangers. These are
difficult times and I feel they are going to get worse. There are many
stories of strange goings on and honest folk fear to travel the
countryside. I wish no harm to come to my family.'

Greta, Jons wife entered the room. She carried water and fresh linen.

Gwidian turned to face his brother, who lay still with his eyes open, but
bearing a distant look. 'I do not know what we can do for you, brother.' He
turned to Greta.

'He needs his wounds binding in clean bandage and the dirt washing from
him. A cool cloth on his brow will help and a little food to keep his
strength up.'

Gwidian nodded his head.

'You are not from these parts?' said Jon.

'Can I look at your sword, sir.' No one had noticed the entrance of the
young boy in the gown.

'Go and join your brothers and sisters,' said Jon.

'Pleee ..ase.'

Gwidian unsheathed his sword and the boys eyes lit up. 'Careful lad, the
edges are sharp.' He passed the sword to the boy.

Jons eyes fixed on the sword as it passed from one to the other, paying
special attention to the snake fashioned into the hilt. 'You are of the
House of Dromar,' said Jon with surprise on his face.

'We are Baron Dromars sons. We go to join the Lord of the Southlands and
Giyorn, Lord of the East.'

Jon remained silent for a while as if weighing the situation up. 'Indeed
these are dark times,' he said, 'but your brother cannot travel.'

'No,' said Gwidian. 'I must travel alone. I need someone who can tend him.
I can pay well.' He placed a bag of coins in Jons hand.

'You would leave your brother?' said the women.

'If there was anyway I could delay my journey I would. If we do not succeed
in our quest...!'

'We understand,' said Jon. 'Perhaps you will rest and share our table
before you leave?'

'I sense you have enough mouths to feed, Jon, and besides I pose a threat
to these darkworld creatures. While I dwell here, I put your family and my
brother in unnecessary danger.'

'As you wish, but we do have our guard dogs to keep watch.'

'Yes, the dogs,' said Gwidian, with concern on his brow. 'Really I must be
on my way,' he clasped his brothers hand for the last time then thanked Jon
and Greta for their help. He gathered his sword with a smile  and walked
towards the entrance porch. He felt a great many eyes watching from the
household as he stepped out into the night air. 'Those dogs are quiet,' he
mumbled, then he cast his eyes into the night - looking for Cretin.
