In a little glade about sunlight coming down in beams between the trees, William met with Felix and Jehair. There were many beautiful flowers there, violet and white. Long vines were extending into the loose earth. Jehair was kneeling by them, her ear pressed against one. But they were not carnivorous, or so William guessed from his memory of Seathorius. The trees in this part of the wood were thicker and stronger than near Ascorn.

Now and then, however, he saw signs of wild pigs devouring plants and roots and broken underbrush. Some trees were dying because of it.

"How did it go?" asked Felix, mending a tear in his cloak.

"You were gone a long time," said Jehair. She'd let her hair down to wash it and was braiding it again.

"I had to fight it out for two days with a plague demon," said William in exhaustion as he fell to his needs. "Tavish is off on some other scheme. We'll have to worry about reprisal from him soon. How did you fair?"

"Lamech and I played chess," said Felix. "He is good, but not as good as he thinks. Eventually, he wandered off to start killing things. Satyrs, I guess, though it might have been a contract killing.

"That display has people talking. You've made your reputation out here. Especially the killing of the pigs."

"My reputation, yes," said William. "But our task isn't complete. We go to aid others along our path."

And they did.

William did as he did before.

Now and then, they'd find tracks from wild hogs, and William would follow them and hunt them. These were more exciting but had little glory, and killing the hogs was dangerous. None of them were as significant as those they had fought before. The bodies they gave to nearby villages, who were often hungry.

William borrowed several spears during this time. He caught a boar head-on with a stout spear at one time, driving it into the heart. It still pushed along the shaft, and he'd nearly been gored to death. Another they caught in a pit and stabbed to death from above.

"What do your people do if not work the fields?" William asked a white-haired woman reading by the healer's tent. She had a single lock of blonde hair which was in front of her face. The rest of it was tied into a braid falling down her shoulder. She wore concealing black robes, which failed to hide a very impressive bustline. Or, for that matter, her extensive hips. A hood was let down behind her.

Her face was stoic and pale, and she shut the book to look up. It was a document on the positioning of stars.

"Well, there are men who are skilled craftsmen and work trades," said the woman. William had seen her expression on the faces of veterans in bad states. "And also there are the overseers and the guards and the militia. Also, there were some jobs where we couldn't trust slaves since they could sabotage them.

"The time used to be that that field out there were several whole farms, and some were there too. But now it's all overgrown and rotting."

"Why hasn't Atravain planted there? Are they lying fallow?" asked William.

"She bought it up when there wasn't an excellent crop," said the woman. "There were never enough seeds to plant there. And she never got around to using it or a lot of others.

"There are vast stretches of land where nobody lives because Atravain has turned them all out. One village refused to leave, but huge numbers of satyrs came after them from Seathorius. Atravain called them rebels and refused to help. Then, the satyrs burned all the fields and wrecked things.

"There were weeks of fighting, and everything was in ruins.

"Then Atravain came with her men and hung the ringleaders. After that, nobody resisted her anymore. It's repopulated a bit these days, but most people have work fighting satyrs." She emphasized the word Atravain as if swapping it in for something else."

William guessed she was an employee or relative wanting to know his mind. "These satyrs, do you think they were hired?"

"House Atravain tends to do very well out of their raids," said the woman, emphasizing it again. "She was part of those named in the conspiracy to overthrow King Anoa II, but like everyone else, she was pardoned.

"Whatever it is, all the raids have stopped in the past year or so."

"That's about the time Arraxia took over," said William. "Tell me, have you had problems with bandits?"

"Too many," she said. "A group of renegade satyrs and slaves often raid afield and try to free the slaves. So they arm them and send them over here. Your pet chimera apparently ate most of them, so that was nice.

"Also, that Lamech fellow has been hunting them for sport. He likes killing them slowly, so they beg for mercy."

"Satyrs don't beg," said William. "Ever."

"Satyrs don't beg people who aren't Lamech," said the woman. "When you first meet him, he seems like an utterly psychotic brute. As you speak more with him, you realize he's a genius. He is eloquent when he wants to be cunning, intelligent, and with a firm grasp of the law. That and brilliance for setting up systems and using them creatively. He's a master swordsman, a fine strategist, and what was done to him was monstrous.

"Then you look deeper and realize he is just a psychotic monster. He understands the law, but it is an expendable tool for his goals. The man has fine long-term goals, but they are just an excuse to hurt people.

"Lamech is seeped in culture and has many virtues. But none of it has sunk in.

"I'm sure there is a lesson in there somewhere."

"Sometimes people are exactly what they appeared to be?" suggested Jehair.

That sent the woman laughing hysterically and William looked at her in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course. Of course, other satyrs are fighting one another," continued the woman. "Sometimes the satyrs also sell people they capture in raids from other areas and sell them. A lot of plantation owners are desperate for workers. So they will never let the workers they do have work for the militia. Too expensive."

"You mean to say that these plantation owners are buying their own people as slaves?" asked William.

"No," said the woman. "Atravain has set hard rules against that. It would have made things easier on the plantation." Her voice was cold but not cruel like she was used to it. She seemed emotionally dead. "She never enslaves Harlenorians.

"But some of the planters did back when the criminals first came and ensnared everything. They bought up food supplies for obscenely good prices and shipped them off-world. That is why Borinius' people were so hungry.

"But Kafka butchered those like pigs, and I'm glad he did."

William shuddered at the memory of the stories he'd heard of Kafka. "Didn't he ascend to become the God of Madness?"

"I'd like to think my Father is dead," said the woman.

"Why has there been no rebellion against all this?" asked William.

She shrugged. "No point.

"All well or good to start a mass rebellion, but this isn't the old days. All we nobles know each other. If they did a general rising, every other noble would get worried and move to crush them. We might kill a lot of them, but they'd all be slaughtered ourselves.

"Most villages don't even use the militia system anymore. The ones that do have enough power to resist but not win. And with all the threats from outside, they don't have time for it. Hasn't King Andoa done something about this?" asked William.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"King Andoa is over a hundred years old, I think," said the woman. "He hasn't left the Golden City in a long time. Tavish might know something about it, though."

"You know Tavish as well?" asked William.

"I have to deal with him as the administrator for the towns in this region," said the woman. "I often go between farms as a mediator. I trained in Magicora to fight on the front, but I'll always get out of here.

"I remember Lamech learned all kinds of techniques and spells from me. He was so charming and seemed like he might be a good person, just waiting for an opportunity. I stopped teaching him when I realized he'd kill me after he learned everything he could. It would be a kind of principle."

William shuddered. "What is your name?"

"Janice Atravain," said the woman.

"Well, if you do, get out of here," said William. "And you can fight; Artarq needs sorcerers. We've had a shortage lately with all the wars. Several were killed in the Khasmir Campaign, and others went abroad.

"Ask for Rusara, and if not her, Raynald."

"I'll keep it in mind," she said faintly.

William looked around. "In any case, you and your people should start thinking about what you will do if someone decides to enslave you. The way things are going, sooner or later, someone is going to try."

She seemed to calculate suddenly. "Why help us?"

"I am a Harlenorian," said William. "If what you say is true, you must have some plan to deal with a war. Sooner or later, someone will try to force you off your land. When that happens, you must know what to do.

"The most likely contender is either one of the gangs from the port city or the criminal networks growing."

"And what would you suggest?" she asked.

"The villages in the Black Mountains are logical allies," said William. "Right now, they are greatly in need of help. Wild hogs are menacing them. And they have taken to working with a Goddess of Thieves, Imogen.

"They badly need a return to the fold and religious education. I have already healed many of them; now may be a perfect time to move in and hunt pigs for them to eat.

"It would also be wise to send a messenger to King Andoa if you have not already."

Janice looked to the castle, then back to him. "I see. Your advice is greatly appreciated."

Silence ensued.

William paused. "What of Neral Dinis?"

"Neral Dinis may well have something to do with all this," said Janice. "It's a foul place out there, of stagnant pools and unkept roads. They say the dead walk, ghosts ride the winds, and wraiths come out at night.

"None go there by any way other than the road. And the forests that separate them from the realm of Brisgald are filled with the wood elves. They've always been harsh with outsiders and recruited satyrs to serve them. So, though no raids come from that place, few people come out of it.

"And there's been word of plagues of rats in the neighboring villages. There is strange music playing throughout the lands. There is also talk of villages breaking into sudden celebrations, singing, and drinking. Then they wake up the next day and don't know why."

"Why is Neral Dinis tolerated?" asked William.

"He hasn't attacked anyone," said Janice. "And vampires, by King Andoa's decree, are not to be destroyed purely for their nature. It may be a bit too understanding. You'll have to go through there unless you want to go miles and miles out of your way. And that'll take you near the King's Road."

"What's wrong with the King's Road?" asked William.

Janice halted and shrugged. "Nothing wrong with the road. It's around the road that is the problem. If you want safety, stay on it."

"Safety is not my goal," said William. "I go into danger that I might lessen it for others? Is this the plantation?"

"It is," said Janice.

At that moment, rough-looking men dragged a satyr out of the fields. A large bag bounced with them as the satyr thrashed to get loose. The creature was snarling curses in his own tongue and spitting. They hit him in the stomach and threw him to the ground.

"What's going on over there?" asked William.

"Don't mind it," said Janice. "This one defied orders and was caught trying to escape.

"We ran him down and are making an example of him."

They were pulling out a cross and forcing him down onto it. He screamed in rage and struggled against them as they drew nails and a hammer from the bag. The satyr cursed them long after it was apparent he could not escape.

And he never begged.

"Crucifixion?" asked William, feeling a bit horrified.

"It sets an example," said Janice in a dull tone. "First, you nail the hands to the stake, then you nail his feet. Once you've done that, you pull it up. You hang him up there for a few days, and all the slaves see it. Makes it clear what'll happen if they disobey.

"They don't die of blood loss, of course. Instead, the lungs gradually collapse. Some put the weight on their hands, others on their feet. You spend a lot of time watching them waste away.

"If we need speed, we break the legs. Waste of good property, but he made the realistic option useless."

"Wouldn't it..." William halted as they held his limbs in place and set a nail to his hand. "Perhaps you could kill him and simply leave the body out. But, unfortunately, his screams may inspire hatred as much as fear."

"We know how it operates. Don't tell us our work," said Janice, tone level. "You don't live here."

"I apologize," said William. The hammer fell, and the nail was driven in. "Is this a standard practice?"

Another nail was driven in.

"Orders are orders," said Janice. "You can't afford to make exceptions with slaves. So you have to enforce discipline, or the whole plantation loses."

This was the way things were, and it was not his land.

It was not his place to question it.

At that moment, William saw a group of paladins. He knew them to be paladins at once; there was a kind of light to them. Though he had never been aware of the light, he realized it had always been there. And yet, clad in shining mail, these men walked by the crucifixion.

One looked at the cross, dismissed it, and then walked back. It was Suran.

"I cannot stand the presumption of that cur, Tavish," said one, with a neat black beard. He had very well-polished armor. "Trying to distract us from the right path with healers' work."

"Unfortunately, people should suffer, Anos," said Suran. "We've been ordered to fight the satyrs. Lord Dunmoore wants their raids checked, and we have to do it.

"Though, of course, those who fight the plague deserve our respect."

One of the Paladins saw him as they passed and did not think much of him. His gaze fell on William, and there was a look of disdain on his face.

"Mercenaries," said the man as he walked by. "We don't need their scum."

Suran evidently did not notice William. "We need everyone we can get, Anos. Mercenaries can really help us."

"And they could just as easily change sides for a higher price," said Anos. "Only a fool relies on mercenaries. They are loyal only to money."

William wanted to go after him, challenge him to a duel, or correct him. But whatever task they were sent on was necessary, and they were going quickly. Avenging his own honor would lead to severe problems.

Now they were gone, and William looked down and realized what he looked like. He was beaten and covered in mud and blood where they were clean. His armor was kept clean but still needed police, and his cloak was torn and ragged. And this company of knights was walking by him now as though he didn't exist.

William looked back at Suran and saw the man smiling as he spoke with Anos and others. It was not a smirk or an unpleasant smile; it was normal. And it was not even at him. It was the ultimate insult; here was a man dressed in shining mail with great skill. And he was using it solely to advance himself.

It was stolen.

Stolen honor.

Stolen joy.

Stolen happiness.

Suran passed him by, and William watched him go. They could have healed this place in a day.

His gaze turned to where the satyrs were roaring in agony on the cross. And the Paladins had walked right by it without objection. As though it were just business as usual.

Janice looked to where the satyr was screaming in agony as the cross was raised and then to William. The cross descended through him, scorching them from above. Then, for a moment, she halted. "I can't just walk off."

"If you stay here," said William. "You'll stay here forever. Do you want to spend the rest of your life doing this?"

Janice showed concern and emotion for the first time since he had seen her. She looked up at the cross in something akin to horror. "I couldn't agree more."

And taking up a staff of steel, she raised it. A bolt of flame burned the satyr to death in an instant. As it did, the cross was burned to a cinder, and she stood up. And, for the first time since he'd met her, she smiled fully. "Damn the plantations. You men, get together a militia; we're going hunting."

"Before you do, take me to the injured and sick here," said William.

Jehair broke off, and Janice headed off to hunt satyrs with groups of men. And so it continued as they got nearer and nearer to the castle. And yet, the closer they got, the more plagues they encountered. Soon, pyres of burning dead could be seen on the roadside, yet the number of sick people only increased.

Felix and William went where they could, helping who they could. Jehair came in and out, talking with the spirits as she did. And he saw more and more crucifixions as he did, and there was nothing he could do. Atravain seemed as bad as any demon, and yet...

Yet people spoke of her as though she ought to be admired.

Worst of all, William realized Felix and Jehair were used to this. Felix did not see anything bad with it at all. And the further William went, the worse it became as the darkness closed in. His vision darkened so that soon, the people around him seemed misshapen monsters. Every day he walked in seemed like a lifetime, and he was unsure what was happening or after.

All he could do was keep trudging toward the castle and healing.

Often, word came in that Janice had started hunting pigs in large numbers. Then, one day, they had the privilege of seeing her at work. Wildfires were created in the woods, rising high with smoke and other creatures. Several of them were pigs, and bursts of flame herded these. From hiding came many villagers with spears who formed a wall. The hogs, half-mad, were driven into the pikes. Finally, one large boar broke through and gored a man to death, treading another underfoot.

The others jabbed at it in a circle of spears before Janice grasped a shaft and hurled it into the creature's eye. Then, writhing in pain, the other men stabbed in.

Three hogs were dead, and Janice was getting started. Her robe was gone and changed for white leather. She now wore a white skirt over armored leggings and looked far nobler. Her upper body was covered in armor, and she held a staff instead of a sword. As she saw him, she nodded with the same dull eyes.

What had happened to her, wondered William as he left?

"They've burned out half a woodland to kill three menaces," said Jehair. "Some trade."

"I do not think Janice cares about the woodlands, Jehair," said William.

"No one does," muttered Felix. "Not even me."

The lands around him shifted to the darkened plains of some evil country. Dark things around him and those he saw on the road seemed misshapen and too fat or thin. As though they were demons in the flesh of men.

Yet men rose to meet it. And they were not alone.

It was a beginning.

Suddenly, his head throbbed and he staggered forward. Vaguely he was aware of voices and then...

William's eyes opened.