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Heaven and Hellfire 05: Road of Chaos
Chapter Thirty-Two: The Duel

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Duel

Larxe led them on quickly and quietly and seemed changed somehow, not speaking much. Her expression was contemplative as she ambled up the slopes. As the moonlight shone down, wolves howled at it, and she turned her gaze upward on the slope. For a moment, she was framed by the moon's light, like a vast shadow. Then she hunched down to smell the ground and rushed on gloved hands and booted feet, moving like a wolf.

All the werewolves seemed different. Something about the horrific event they'd seen had been of immense importance. Almost a divine revelation.

Which it was, of course.

They had been starving and fed with their enemies' blood. And it had been the right thing to do.

"What will you do now?" asked William. "After this?"

"The Alpha has spoken to me," said Larxe. "We must shift our bloodlust to more subtle means. Our wrath is satiated differently. Now, let's find something to kill."

William had no idea why these events were of significance to her. But it was not wise to judge a werewolf.

Up the slopes, they went at a rapid pace, moving through the trees on the craggy slopes, covered in moss and crabgrass. The cliffs above them glared down in the fading light as trees clutched their heels. Trees looked down from above near the peaks and gazed upon them, providing cover. Behind them, the city of Isriath now looked genuinely insignificant. And those working there looked sad and miserable, clinging to life and what hope they could. Isriath's music played throughout the hills but was of little comfort.

"It is a beginning," said Jehair, looking half-dead though she was not slowed. "It'll make a good trade outpost. And it is better that we found it than Arkan or his ilk. It has been founded by slaves instead of slavers, a least."

Suddenly, Larxe tensed and growled before dropping low. Everyone did the same. William went down too quickly and banged his knee, feeling aches from the road. How long had he been traversing this path? He was exhausted. He became aware of the clanking of his armor and the sweat on his body. His eyes were unfocused as he tried to stay low. Larxe glared at him.

"What is it?" asked William.

"There are watchers up ahead," said Larxe, sniffing. "Massacre, stay behind, you're too big, and they'll see you coming. Follow me, and don't make a noise. Take that armor off and ditch it."

"But-" began William.

"Now!" said Larxe.

William nodded. "Felix, help me with this."

Taking the armor off took time, and he hated to strip it off him. Every piece he took off him made him feel more and more naked. Even so, the weight coming off him was heavenly, and with each fallen piece, it improved. The aches and pains that built up over his journey were lessened as he shed the last.

Now he stood only in his white tunic and pants, with dirt-stained books and sweat. The cool night air on his face sent his hair flying as he breathed the free air.

Larxe eyed him carefully as he drew off his helm and breastplate, now clad in his tunic.

"You're cute," said Larxe. "I was expecting someone a lot leaner and more... wolfish."

"I'm pleased you think so," said William. "Felix, guard the armor. And wait for us here."

"Right," said Felix. And he began putting the armor carefully into place.

They hurried up the slopes as the evening went on and became less tall. William's aches were pressing at him, and there was only so much he could do with his healing magic. He wondered what he looked like and if he looked anything like he had when he left the port of Arsheen with Tanith. It seemed like such a long time ago, yet virtually nothing had changed.

Everything was the same as before, only with different names.

Or was it? Had William changed things? The people he had healed were better off. Elranor must have been using him to achieve his designs.

But now and then, they saw men with bows looking out. Larxe slipped out from under them, knowing every stone. It was a rocky and desolate place, leading ever higher and left of the peak. The winds whipped through their travel-worn clothes to chill them. But Larxe pressed on. At last, they came over a rise into a shallow part of the mountain.

There they saw the fortress.

It was built much the same as the city Isriath had lost. Yet it had a stockier base and was tall rather than wise. Lookouts were on every turret, and William could see convoys approaching it from the other side. In the distance, William saw the Haldrenian straight. And also Ascorn, looking nearer than it was. To the west along the shore, he saw Magicora of the same design as the fort. Yet it was new and wonderful, with stones that coursed with magic and shimmering lights.

Many of the convoys were coming from it, and they were stopping at a nearby village. It was walled with stone but not defensible. William guessed that the dwarves who dwelled there would flee into the fortress. Yet they had no fields, and William guessed they'd had a trade for some time. There were two smiths, and the oxen were being used to haul cargo.

That was bad news. It meant they had contacts and had been here for some time.

"Why would no one have known of this?" asked William.

"They probably only shipped legal goods," said Larxe. "Merchants had likely used this path long before Tavish did. Those archers are dwarves.

"They probably kept the malas off to avoid notice. Likely until they had more control of Blackfear and contacts in Escor. Not a lot of market in either place for malas or other poisons. The King of Escor would never allow it.

"Make camp."

Here they made camp such as they could. Larxe and her wolves sheltered under the trees and huddled together for body warmth. William set out to a camp, satisfied that he'd learned to do it, and enjoyed the rest. The earth here was soft and springy, far better for resting on, and he felt relieved to have the chance.

Some of the more rested wolves were sent out as scouts. And more werewolves were coming up behind them in the night. They came with an immense speed, and William wondered how many there were. Larxe was pacing back and forth in frustration. Meanwhile, Jehair meditated with her knees crossed. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, substantial even hidden by cloak. Her hair blew as she gritted her teeth. Normal teeth except for fangs.

She'd almost be cute if he had not been born witness to her bloodthirsty nature. Jehair, meanwhile, looked older than ever. They ate in silence, Larxe tearing through meat wolfishly.

This seemed like a very dangerous triumvirate. If Jehair worked with Larxe and then coordinated with Korlac...

It would be the essence of simplicity to shift Alchara's plans. William would have bought a delay, nothing more. Jehair was eyeing him carefully, looking wizened and bitter. Either hoping he would not notice or hoping he'd let it happen. If this worked, Korlac would be strengthened at the expense of Neral Dinis.

Larxe was looking at him too.

"What about the money Cirithil shook Arkan down for?" asked Jehair, suddenly.

"It's all gone, assuming the transfer happened," said Larxe. "Cirithil owns it, and Neral Dinis is a witness, as is Arkan. But Cirithil is insane, so it should be inaccessible. At best, Ata is the one with control over it, and they can't publically attack her. Arkan could question Neral Dinis' and me as witnesses, but then we'd have occasion to seek open war. We have a contract." She was very smart beyond the bloodlust, wasn't she?

All of her actions had been performed correctly. Only her constant rages had dragged her down. And even that had been put to excellent use. William had severely misjudged her.

"Well, we have set the precedent that the High Priest cannot be attacked," said William. "And also sent a message. So, at the very least, we've staved off the fall of Antion a while." He stopped.

The fall of Antion.

Antion was falling, physically and in spirit. The nation was in decay, collapsing in on itself. Something had to be done to save it, something drastic. All this was only treating symptoms.

In this triumvirate, there were three people.

Jehair is a Druid and elven patriot with criminal connections.

Larxe, a creature of darkness who could be of use and was reasonable.

And William, an up-and-coming noble of a powerful house trying to achieve respectability.

All had won a partial, difficult victory and could try again. None of them had given up.

One of them would be destroyed, or the situation would repeat.

Jehair was weak right now, but she was making stabs at an alliance with Larxe and, through it, Korlac. If this happened, she'd destroy her criminal connections, and Antion would be secure. Of course, at that point, House Gabriel would be the outsider, and they'd have to settle accounts. That would leave the Heir of Kings as a mediator to fix everything.

If all went well, the peace would hold until the Heir of Kings set things to right.

But all would not go well. Jehair' history was mired in treachery, and the High Elves could not be trusted. House Marn could utilize this to discredit a rival and lose his position in Artarq. It would be all too simple to blame it all on House Gabriel, as an outsider no one trusted. Proper politics could stave it off, but House Gabriel would face all the same challenges. Perhaps even worse.

And they would never be Kings.

"Let's get out of here," said William. "I don't like that tower."

Everyone could agree on that.

They headed down fast and met Felix to retrieve his armor. William did not put it back on yet, and they hurried down, meeting werewolf envoys. Larxe stopped only to send off one person or another on a mission. Reports came in regularly. Several convoys had gone out by secret roads, and many were carrying malas or other drugs.

Taken from smugglers near Desora.

Apparently, business had been very bad for malas smuggling since Father came in. But it was about to get much worse. Larxe was sending werewolves to get the names and identities of their contacts. She also sent messages to Korlac, seeking statements of support in her efforts. Very soon, if things went well, they'd be sweeping up most of the contacts in the villages.

For his part, William arrived back in the city and stood behind Jehair. The people were working now. They were planting fields and trying to find good places to grow while eating rations. The bodies from the earlier massacre had been burned in a pile, and the people had taken the weapons.

They had lost their children.

Infant babies murdered by Cirithil and the satyrs.

Because of Jehair.

She'd traveled this same route many times and seen everything put into motion. Her help to him had only happened because of what he had done.

It occurred to him that Jehair would get full credit for his actions. As the more experienced warrior, she would naturally be considered a leader. Especially since she was less politically controversial, the glory and honor afforded to House Gabriel would go to her.

Just as Jehair would get credit for his operations with the gnolls, the night passed.

A few words could make his healing obsession be something done at her behest.

Jehair is the hero of this story. The elves would be the hero.

Instead of a hostile takeover, the elves would be selfless heroes that saved Antion. Not the scheming masterminds who nearly engineered its downfall. There was Jehair, looking at the rebuilding with a smile. As though she'd earned it rather than had it taken from her clawing grip. This would be an elven city if she'd had her way, and all the men would be dead.

"Isriath's people are rebuilding quickly," said Jehair. "There are no old men or women to drag them down." As if the elderly were fit only for destruction. And William looked to the greening lands and could see the stories told. The story of an elven resurgence that checked Neral Dinis and saved Antion. "There will be many children to replace those lost here, but it won't be the same."

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"No, it won't," said William. Everyone would just cooperate with all this. House Gabriel would be a footnote. Left outside as upstanding citizens who needed no thanks. Meanwhile, the elves take all the credit and thanks when it was their fault anyway.

Antion owed them nothing.

Harlenor owed them nothing.

Everything they had been given here was a gift they had to repay to House Gabriel. But they'd just shrug it off as reparations. And the credit for them would be given to Antion as a whole. Even though they'd done nothing but do their jobs too late. Jehair would scheme against Neral Dinis anew.

It would all go right back to the way it was.

"There will be a city and towns and, in time, felled trees," said Jehair, adjusting her grip on the scythe. Trying to tell him or herself it was worth it.

"Are these the reparations of the guilty, blackheart?" asked William, drawing his sword.

Now all eyes were finally on him. Larxe looked up in surprise as William took a stance. A tense silence went over them as Jehair turned, and William knew she had thought the inverse.

"I prefer to see it was a just reward for services rendered," said Jehair.

"A villain escaping justice, and you call it a reward," said William. "You've done nothing to earn it; save undo some of what you have done. I have.

"This is my story, and you're the villain."

Dawn was breaking, for a day and night had passed, and he had not noticed. Now as the early morning grew to full light, Jehair readied her scythe. Taking a stance, she looked young once again. "You've done well, I'll admit. You ruin the schemes of the wicked with wondrous brutality. Cirithil driven mad and gnawing at grass, Arkan and his associates bankrupted. Furbearers assassinated Rius while your hands remained clean.

"Is it my turn now, William?" She smiled, and there was a new face to it.

"It is," said William.

Jehair' smile faded and was replaced by a thing of pure rage. "Well, before you claim victory over my corpse, can you defend yourself, Paladin!!"

Jehair backflipped into the air, scythe surging down, and he felt the wind of it near his ear as he moved away. Yet she was coming at him, hacking and slashing with speed and grace, fixed with a fury worthy of a satyr. Yet his blows were calculated and stronger, and her arcs were predictable. One he turned as it arced around, then another as it went at his legs. Finally, a strike at her shoulder was blocked, and they met strength on strength.

So they circled on a hilltop beneath the morning light as the people looked up. The sun gazed down as vines grew up and moss covered the rocks. William lost his footing and was shoved back, and landed hard. Yet he knocked Jehair's scythe away, rolled to one side, and struck. His blade grazed her shoulder but cut only cloth, and she stepped backward, spinning her scythe as she did. Vines reached to grab his arms, but he slipped away and slashed them.

Jehair healed her wound, slashed, and William's wounded over his eye reopened. Now half-blinded by blood, William knew he could not defend himself like this. So he roared and attacked, swinging his blade with heavy strokes. Jehair was driven higher up the slopes and soon went into rocky terrain. Shiftly, she spun around his strike, but William allowed himself to fall into the dirt. Her counterattacked missed and cleaved the earth, cutting a sharp furrow.

Rising, he stood and drove her back, attacking her with rage and hatred he had never felt before. Down the slopes, they battled, and Jehair could not move as nimbly as before. Her injury weakened her more than him. Finally, forcing her scythe up high, he raised a leg and kicked her in the chest. He nearly lost his footing, but she fell backward into the dirt and tumbled away. Her scythe spun through the air to land blade first in the ground.

She went for it, but William rushed down, raising his sword to take her captive.

Even as he did, her body evaporated into rose petals, and William stepped back as the petals flowed around him. Some of them seemed to caress his face, almost gently, as sunlight gleamed down from above. A moment later, Felix called a warning. Ducking low, William felt the wind of a scything passing near his neck. Turning, he slashed upwards as he saw Jehair spinning through the air. Her scythe was glowing blood red as it passed him, and she twisted away from his blow.

Passing one another, William found his legs grabbed by vines growing up from the ground. Throwing himself backward, he hewed at them as Jehair passed over him. Finally, the vines broke, and she turned to strike downward. Felix hurled William's shield, and he grasped it, catching the scythe as it fell.

There was a clash, and the blade was repelled. Stabbing forward, William saw that Jehair's hair was now completely golden. She laughed as she danced away, and petals of flowers bloomed out of the air. Spores poured from the petals, surrounding them as Larxe and her wolves were repelled.

"Can you feel fear, Paladin?" asked Jehair.

Suddenly she burst into petals as the entire area was shrouded. The petals scattered as more of them formed into three Jehair's. Two had scythes of wood, and only one had a scythe.

"What is this?" asked William.

"A blessing of the Flower Maiden," said Jehair. "The land and I are one, and my being can reform with her flowers. I created a duplicate of myself before our battle began.

"I was interested in what you would do."

"A meaningless effort," said William. "One who will not walk abroad among his fellow men will change nothing."

"And nothing changes," said Jehair. "I have seen all that you have seen, over and over. I have walked this hell for forty years.

"And I will end it!"

All three Jehair's surged at him. William ducked and weaved, trying to keep them from surrounding him. Blocking a scythe, he nearly lost an eye. A flower rose up behind him as whole fields were being made manifest. It revealed a maw of teeth as Jehair tried to drive him into it.

He must attack or perish.

Roaring a battle cry, William charged with his shield first and smashed into one of them. She faded to petals while the others pursued. Then, turning, he parried a stroke from the Scythe of Imogen and cut the hand from the creature. It faded, but the other rushed at him as the scythe spun beyond his wrist.

Clashing sword against a scythe, William attacked hard and fast and broke the wood in twain. Cutting it down, he thanked his greater strength as he looked up. All around him, a forest of flowers was rising. Flashes of fire could be seen around him as smoke rose high and Jehair manifested.

No longer golden, her hair was now pink and ragged, and the scythe was in hand. Endless waves of pink blossoms were flowing about them, and waves of red obscured his vision. As they passed for a moment, it seemed William was not in Antion but some other wild realm. All around him were lush forests, and wild animals in harmony as golden light shone on all.

But it was nothing.

Animals eat plants, and plants devour water; creatures hunt one another. And the Flower Maiden feasted on it, removing one troublesome problem after another. Waiting for her moment.

A great gust of wind carried Jehair upwards, and her body seemed almost made of the petals surrounding her.

"Do you know the nature of the cherry blossom?" asked Jehair. "It blooms only briefly for a brief time each year. But during that time, the blossoms are the most beautiful trees you will ever see.

"Endless poetry has been conveyed about them in Kalthak and Dinis.

"Now...

"Wandering soul that is bereft of peace. Bloom for a moment and wither as you must....

"IN THIS NATION OF ETERNAL MEANINGLESSNESS!!"

And at that moment, she descended. Wings of sakura petals rose her and formed into a revenant-like specter. Descending, William narrowly parried and took a nick to the arm. As he reeled, she vanished and came from behind. Spinning away, he was slashed across the side, and his counterblow was parried. Even as he healed, Jehair went at him with a mad look in her eyes. She slashed and hacked as the flowers around him poured their pollen into the air.

Soon the world began to blur, and he could hardly see her. Then, finally, his foot was caught, and he stumbled. Landing hard on the ground, he was caught immediately by vines and slashed to try and get free. But Jehair appeared like a specter of death, scythe upraised.

"LET NATURE TAKE THE LIFE IT GAVE!!" cried Jehair, a mad look in her eyes.

And then Larxe tore through the flowers with a howl of fury and was on Jehair. Bowling her over, they grappled as the werewolf bared her fangs. Grasping Jehair by the throat, she surged to bite her, but Jehair had her. Now they rolled over, gouging, biting. William grasped his sword and slashed at the vines. He struck once, then again, and finally, he was free.

Rising up, he saw Jehair overthrow Larxe with momentum, hurling her across the room. Larxe landed on her knees and hands as plants went at her. Now she was fighting off dozens of the tendrils.

William raised his sword and rushed at Jehair, who drew her weapon and looked at him. Her hair was now corpse white and her eyes glowing, her form like a skeleton. Then, turning, she sprinted at him as they moved. William knew she would strike first.

But he'd have the advantage if he could get past her attack. So, raising his faithful shield, he moved it toward her scythe. The shield hit, and he felt his arm go numb, stumbling with the force of the blow. Making the last few steps, his leg was grabbed by a vine as he stabbed upwards.

The sword stabbed deep through her sternum, and she gasped and fell backward. The spell was broken, and her white hair returned to brown as she slumped downward.

The scythe fell from her grip as William pulled out his sword. Then, realizing what she knew was needed, he healed and set her down. It would not be right for her to die without facing justice.

"So..." Jehair said. "This is the art of chivalry..."

"What are you talking about?" asked William, standing away from her.

"I heard a story once," said Jehair, breathing as the last of her enchantments faded. "It told of a knight who was the meekest man to dine in halls among ladies. Yet the bravest and most courageous of men upon the battlefield.

"It is not a thing of nature."

William understood the concept. But he had no intention of humoring her. "It is choice, not art, that defines one. You made your choices a long time ago."

Jehair laughed. "Perhaps so.

"It doesn't matter."

Larxe stood up, dusting herself off as the flowers faded around them. Her pink hair faded away to the original brown as the hallucinations faded around them.

Larxe bounded forward, clapping and laughing. "Excellent work Sir Gabriel. You have assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive.

"Jehair, you are under arrest."

"For?" asked Jehair.

"Engineering the starvation of Blackfear's population, aiding and abetting criminals," said Larxe. "Murder of an officer of the law, {I was the officer} attacking nobility {just now}, conspiracy against the crown, conspiracy to usurp a local Lord's regional authority {pretty much everywhere}. Contempt for royalty and nobility {this is their country, and you think that country is a mistake.} Betrayal of the national sovereignty of Antion. Treason.

"And to top it all off, you're an insufferable jerk.

"There aren't any accounts of theft, rape, or oathbreaking I can think of. But that changes little because you are not a god. You don't have the right to pass judgement on an entire nation. Neral Dinis insists I be quite familiar with the laws of Antion. You'll be taken to the King and made to answer there." Her wolves were coming out.

"Bind her. And no physical attacks; this is law work."

"Law work?" asked William.

"Yes," said Larxe. "I am an agent of Neral Dinis, after all.

"I've decided that the old ways are done, and I'm going into thief catching. It's better sport that way. I'll take her to the King and finally get a measure of respect for my kind. Neral Dinis and I spoke of it earlier.

"Although this was a nice setup.

"You know how to treat a girl to dinner."

William halted. "Unplanned, I assure you.

"Jehair should not be physically harmed. It could get her sympathy." She was tied to a tree now, not resisting. "Perhaps we should focus on the convoys."

"I don't need your clumsy feet for that," said Larxe. "We'll bring in the ones we smell illegal substances on soon. They'll be heading for Escor or the domain of Lord Tarsus. There's no market in Blackfear, but I've traced most of the paths up there.

"You gave me a perfect pretense to start patrolling them. If I did it alone, they'd say werewolves were ambushing people. With a Paladin and Jehair, though, I can seize them all now. I know exactly what malas and their goods smell like. And they aren't smart enough to hide it from me.

"It'll be an easy feast."

"You aren't going to eat them, are you?" asked William.

"No," said Larxe in disappointment. "We don't do that anymore. We're not allowed to devour anything sentient. Just arrest them.

"We'll have to feast on their fear for now."

William never once came within sight of any of the arrests. However, many shipments were soon brought up to Isriath's new city. The goods were seized and carefully kept away to be examined. Larxe moved around them, taking notes as she did on sheets of paper. They sniffed and compared notes and also examined the physical parameters.

Many individuals were questioned by Larxe and kept terrified. She asked simple, short questions. Often about the paths they took and others. Other merchants arrived unmolested. They plied their trade on the citizens of Isriath. Barter began as construction continued. William was several times asked to explain what had happened to the merchants. He felt terrible doing it.

At the very least, however, William had a chance to observe the construction. He'd never been near this kind of construction before.

"No, no," said Osmos, a merchant who knew something about building. "That's not properly grounded. Let me steady that."

William observed and tried to understand what he was seeing. More merchants arrived and genuinely made a profit. At the same time, those who had been peddling malas were arrested. Others Larxe had known of for some time and known their crimes. These were arrested, even without illegal goods, some of them for crimes of slavery.

What he saw here was utterly foreign to how Harlenor was supposed to be. It was the antithesis of Harlenor.

And yet, as the merchants bringing malas to faraway lands clapped in irons, it was beautiful. Harlenor had failed here; a new way must be found to return.

Unfortunately, the old way was lined with bandits. So he focused on making sure a guard was kept at all times.

"Make sure you look professional and raise your spear high," said William. "It won't do much good if you're attacked. But if they think you've got professional soldiers, they'll think twice.

"That should give you enough time to find a better defense."

"Thank you, sir," said a boy, but he was older than William.

Even though he'd been through worse misery, he wasn't as far on his journey. It was odd how pain alone could not bring maturity. It could also be education, or he had chosen differently. Yet as William looked out over a land turning green, he saw the sun shining again overhead.

And William wondered if there was anything left of who he was. What had happened to the person who went with Raynald and Rusara by ship? Who had thought about visiting Edmund Telus and dining with him again?

Did that person still exist? Should he? What did it mean if he did?

The unholy rituals had been destroyed with the purification of the area.

Criminal after criminal were clapped in irons and led away. Their guards were overpowered, and their oxen loosed. And their burdens were taken as evidence.

Then another, then another.

One saw the oxen tied up after being given to the villagers and ran for it, but wolves caught them in the woods. A few were searched and found to have no illegal substances and sent on their way. But these were few, and immense wealth was seized over the next few hours.

A few caught on and tried to run, but the werewolves had been waiting, and they were rounded up. So that pretty soon Arkan's merchants. They had come in expecting great wealth and an easy sale; instead were clapped in chains. How would their families take the news? What fate would befall them once these were hung? William prayed Elranor would care for them.

"Basically," said Larxe. "They'd come over the mountain and sell their wares to the merchants out here with Cirithil. Then, they buy up the slaves in return and return to Ascorn. From there, they get sold to plantation owners or whoever buys them. Lady Atravain or whatever you want."

"Lady Atravain would do no such thing," said William.

"Maybe she wouldn't," said Larxe. "If she knew it was happening.

"Most buyers don't want to know who their slaves are. It makes them rich. Nobody will care what your lineage is after you're worked to death.

"Right now, we're stripping all the illegal merchants of everything. They'll be bankrupt after this; most merchants are one bad run away from it. And they'll be in prison, so we can squeeze them for information before they die.

"And their families will have to live out on the street." She giggled. "We give the stolen stuff to Isriath's city as thanks. And they sell it to honest merchants as they return from the honest business. That was Saphra's idea; she suspected this place had been up here for some time. But we never had a chance to go in for open war against Arkan."

"How will you handle the blood problem?" asked William.

"Well, my idea," said Larxe. "Is that we get a chance to drink blood from people given the death penalty? Or if we decide to drain them, maybe a werewolf will turn them instead. Of course, we're very selective, but that gives them a chance to save themselves.

"I think we can do very well as police."

"Just don't push too far," said William. "Antion is not defenseless. They will destroy you if you cause too much disruption and misery."

"I know," said Larxe, and she leaned forward as if to bite him. Then she thought better of it and stole off.

William looked over to where Jehair was bound to a tree.

The hatred in her eyes was gone, and he thought they finally understood one another a bit better. Then she looked away, the light in her eyes died, and she slumped unconscious.

Jehair was dead, either today or in only a little while.

And they would not meet again in this life. Perhaps in her next, if what she said was true. But did he actually want to meet her?

William sat down to think.

And he contemplated all that had led up to this for many hours.