Stephan did not know what to feel at the latest news to confront him. This time it was not that of a bad crop, or the actions of George Hanson or one of his cronies. In recent days a citizen on a routine hunt had discovered to the south, traces of what appeared to be a recently vacated human habitation of many individuals.

The elderly leader never had any reason to suspect that others lived so closely by, and he pondered the idea if they would be a threat, or perhaps a boon to this settlement? So many people living in close proximity in caves, and it appeared by the report they lived rough. He feared a raid, for desperation made great enemies. They hardly needed to be attacked by two separate forces. So it was decided that they would put more energy into exploring the southern wastes inhospitable that they were.

Stephan detested the specter of war, he had done everything in his power to avoid it, and still, it came for him and those he loved. However, some things were one's destiny, and there was little to do but shrug and continue on.

After a short discussion the evening prior, it had been agreed that the elderly leader would go on a reconnaissance with some of his men, and see these caves for himself. He rarely traveled these days. Renard had tried to convince his frail father that he should go in his stead, but Stephan would not hear of it. He wanted his son to remain home in case of an attack. Spring was here, and soon Lothar would strike, of that he was sure. He would feel much better with his son at his side if this was to occur. He was thankful to God every day that he had come home.

*****

Stephan felt tired. A weariness and a gray lassitude that these days crowded his vision, and usually acute mind was upon him. Regardless of the many reasons his aging body may have had to dissuade him from this scouting trip, he refused to let them get in the way, as he sat on his old and trusted horse. He moved as swiftly as he could, not wishing to slow the pace of his men down. Though the rigors of a very physical day on horseback were already taking a toll on the elderly man. He found himself aching and clutching the animal's mane by midday for support.

Carefully he and his column of men located and inspected the cave that the hunter had wished to bring to Stephan’s attention. Crude remnants of domesticity remained. Broken sticks, a shattered clay platter, some strips of soiled fabric, and many bones of butchered meals. The mandatory circle of stones garnered with ashes gone cold, and coals scattered from the long-dead fire.

Stephan leaned on his cane gazing into the dark recess, that ran deep beneath the cliffs. “It would appear they left some time ago? It would have been a job to keep warm here, there is little to burn.”

“Looks that way.” Dale nodded, casting about.

“These were indeed an impoverished people. Life must have been hard here.” Stephan ruminated out loud. “So why did they leave, and more importantly where did they go?”

“My guess is they ran out of water, and game, maybe with the turn of the weather they decided they should seek someplace better to live.” The hunter named Peter offered. He was a young man with sandy brown hair and a quick manner about him.

“Hum, yes, you are possibly right, how many do you think lived here?” Stephan questioned, shifting his weight on tired feet.

“It would seem there were quite a few individuals Sir. Maybe as many as fifty.” Dale offered.

There was much disturbance here presumably made by many feet over quite a prolonged period. Stephan had not meant to sigh but the sound escaped him nonetheless. Sometimes no matter his best efforts old age was hard to mask. The men did not miss the troubled gesture.

“I believe we should make every attempt to find these people. At least establish if they are friend or foe.” The old leader finally suggested.

“Indeed we should Sir.” Dale answered, and the group began to scour the immediate area intently. The last thing they wanted was to be ambushed.

*****

The shadows were beginning to lengthen and the closing in of the evening was somewhat cool. Stephan had given ground to his aging body and had let the main force scout ahead. They would be more efficient without the limitations of an old man such as himself. Dale had remained by him, and the two men had waited out much of the afternoon in pleasant conversation in the warm sun, leaning against the rock.

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Stephan reminded himself that even if he felt very ancient and at times fragile, moments like these must be remembered and enjoyed. He lived for his people, and hoped he would have enough time to secure his vision of a good abundant world and a sustainable life that was safe.

The elderly man had almost fallen asleep, or to be more precise a kind of a wakeful slumber. Stephan had found he often did this in recent months as he awaited messengers in his library, or sat up very late reading, and was startled as his men came into view escorting two strangers. One short, and very dark, the other tall and lean with a shock of white hair tied back from his pointed face by a short braid. The elderly man pulled himself up on his staff so that he could greet those that approached with some courtesy. Dale stood close by his right shoulder.

It appeared at once to both the waiting men there was no tension in the returning party. This was a paramount relief, the old man hated conflict and strove to avoid it at every opportunity.

Stephan's eyes strayed to the very short but enigmatic man who strode toward him. All bristling black beard and gold adornment. The man did not pause but walked boldly up to Stephan, putting his heavy hand into Stephan's own and delivering a crushing handshake, which made the elderly man's rheumatic joints howl with pain. The stranger may have been short, but he was uncannily strong.

“Bryn Frazer, and my second in command Tobias.” He gestured toward his slender accomplice with a flourish. Tobias inclined his head and smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet someone out here that ain't hostile.” The smile that lit his ruddy face seemed most genuine.

Stephan returned the grin as he replied with his own warm greeting, finding he had to bow a little more than usual in the presence of this dwarven statured man. “I am Stephan, please sit and tell me all about yourself...”

The elderly leader’s fears were soon allayed. There would be no attack, just the discovery of a band of wandering people in desperate need of help. They too had fallen prey to Stephan's enemy the Wolf Lord to the southwest. Displaced by one of his senseless, sweeping military campaigns. Lack of food and the lifting of the most severe cold had caused the thirty-eight remaining refugees to leave the caves they had called home this past frozen winter. Stephan extended his welcome to Bryn's ragged clan, and Bryn duly accepted with grace.

*****

After spending an uneventful couple of days with Bennett's clan Jormugar had slipped away from the valley with ease. He had chosen the strongest horse from the four animals that foraged above and did not even make to cover his tracks by heading in a misleading direction. The wind that was on the rise, would soon see to the complete erasure of his passing.

The moon was full and lent the dunes an eerie light as he headed south weaponless. He hoped that his skill as a tracker would keep him distanced from all conflicts until he could reach his employer. He would have to be extremely careful. The South was no place for an almost defenseless man.

*****

Victor Krosse stood today in the courtyard lit by thin sunlight, silver buttons, and black polished leather gleaming, appraising the one-hundred-strong force he had assembled beneath the fast scudding clouds. The high metal walls encircled the capable well-drilled military. The men had practiced willingly and with excellence, and morale after all these long months of uncertainty and despair was much raised.

War was a good motivator, and Victor had tirelessly preached the rhetoric. One hundred well-trained and armed men at his disposal. This time Victor was sure that Stephan would be forced to surrender once confronted by The Wolf Lord’s military might.

This standing army was quite the achievement after all the recent difficulties to beset the fortress. Victor had worked exhaustively on many fronts to make this happen, and had in the last year even managed to replace some of the fallen knights from the light cavalry ranks. Lothars’ force would never again be blessed with so many heavily armored horsemen, but at least this time there would be a sufficient number to wage a successful attack.

He strode down the ranks of the sharp and attentive men, all dressed in black as he was. Shining leather Jackboots striking the hard ground. He smiled at Captain Greyson and Major Hawkins. This show of emotion was a rare gesture from Victor. He rarely let anyone know what he was feeling, and even less what he was thinking. However today he was proud of all his hard work.

It was much trouble but this afternoon Lord Lothar had been brought from his subterranean living quarters to witness the product of his second-in-command's zeal. He sat in his wheelchair in full military dress to inspect his men. An assistant pushed his chair before the ranks of his force, who stood at attention as he passed them by. He seemed pleased, at least as pleased as a dour man like Lothar could be.

“They look ready,” Lothar said almost enthusiastically, as his wheelchair reached the end of the line, to approach where Victor was standing.

“Yes they can march at any time on your order Sir,” Victor announced as he stood straight and proudly at attention like the rest of his troops, his black, double-breasted gold buttoned uniform perfect.

The clouds broke for a moment above the assembly yard, and a golden light cascaded onto the scene below. Illuminating the tight formation of men, alighting on the polished brass, and the shining argent of the men's armor, resplendent, a thing of deadly beauty. Then in an instant, the heavens withdrew its holy light, muting the fine display and plunging the assembly into darkness and a wave of cold rain.