The Withering King was gone when the party left. The only sign he had been there was a faint whispering on winds from above. So were the demons, for that matter, their power departing for other dimensions. Their journey out of the pit of hell was strange and, at the same time, uneventful. At one point, Narcissa nearly tripped in the dark and had to be caught by Sahshir. She hung out over the edge for a moment, breathing heavily before being pulled back. She enjoyed the danger. They carried the body of the former Lord of Hatred out of the darkness. As they did, the power lessened, and the effect on their minds and wills also did.

They saw no sign of Garrick or his men as they traveled down the mountain, and Sahshir continued to sense for them. Yet there was a strange feeling in the air that had replaced it. There was something that spoke to Sahshir of a hidden threat. They descended into the woods and found a group of satyrs with bows and javelins waiting for them.

They howled aloud, and Sahshir set his hand to his sword. However, Nagos caught him. "Wait, wait, that's a greeting."

Sahshir hesitated as the satyrs came forward. One of them carried a staff with a red cloth, marking him as a messenger. "King Alcaides has sent us to watch for you." said the leader. "Your success is observed. Now come with us to his domain."

Sahshir looked to Narcissa, then back. There was no point in defying them here; they had to meet with him eventually. "Take us to him."

The satyrs led them into the woods and into danker and darker places. The trees here hung with many ferns and bugs everywhere, while vines hung from the canopy above. It was miserably humid in the sun above. Narcissa's scanty clothes left her exposed skin glimmering with sweat. Nagos kept looking at her and trying to hide the movement. Meanwhile, Sahshir cursed that no bugs were going after her. What did everyone else find so fascinating about Narcissa's breasts anyway?

Yes, they were large. Very large. Obscenely large. And they were packed into black leather that bared much of them.

What of it?

The satyrs, meanwhile, seemed used to it and paid it no heed. Soon they came into a series of huts built by the sea. Yet they were constructed so that they seemed part of the trees. Hounds surged toward them, snarling and pulling at chains before being called back.

A great bonfire was burning at the center, and many satyrs were dancing around it while howling. Others were drinking from cups of wine and playing dice or cards. There were also humans, dwarves, and even a few elves. All carried with them spears and long shields. Several skeletal bodies were hanging from trees, picked clean by birds. Alcaides sat on a steel throne with several satyr women near him. With one hand, he was scratching a tiger behind the ears.

As the party entered, the dancing halted, and Alcaides motioned. The leader came forward and prostrated himself. "King Alcaides, I have brought them before you."

"So you have," said Alcaides. "King Alcaides is pleased by your fervor. Where is the body?"

Sahshir motioned to Narcissa, whose turn it was to carry it. She laid the body down before him, and Alcaides smiled widely. "Why do you even want this?" asked Narcissa.

"King Alcaides' ways are not those of mortals," said Alcaides. "His power and wisdom are beyond the scope of mortal beings."

"Enlighten me," said Sahshir deadpan.

"I had a similar question." noted a familiar voice.

Sahshir looked up and saw Garrick emerging from the shadows. None of the pirates found his presence remarkable. Looking closer, he saw the steel of mail coats among many robed figures on the outskirts.

Alcaides eyed him in amusement. Then he laughed, a huge, booming laugh. "King Alcaides will explain. Sorn wishes to bask in King Alcaides' power. He desires I bestow on them certain artifacts from my collection. In return, their fleets shall aid me in the glorious conquest of my ancient enemy.

"The winds shall arise at Alcaides' command! My enemies shall be destroyed!"

"Would it not be better to consume the power of the domain yourself?" asked Sahshir flatly.

"King Alcaides will not explain that," said Alcaides quickly.

"If I might, your majesty, there is the matter of the body," said Garrick. "It radiates the power of hatred, and it had best be destroyed."

"Let it be so!" said Alcaides. "Pile wood and fern and leaf, and let the smoke of the burning rise to heaven!"

"What of our agreement?" asked Garrick.

"Oh yes, Alcaides shall honor it," said Alcaides quickly.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"What of our agreement?" asked Sahshir flatly.

"Alcaides shall honor that too," said Alcaides.

Sahshir wondered if his agreement with Garrick didn't contradict his own. Or if Alcaides was simply insane. It could be both.

"Your majesty, Sorn is, at the moment, about to fight a war with Dinis," said Garrick. "And Kalthak is allied with Dinis. Even as we speak, their fleets are gathering at Chaminus.

"If you side with one of us, you cannot side with the other."

"All things are possible with Alcaides," said Alcaides. "What you view as contradictions are merely manifestations of the same ultimate power. One that is as one, if gazed upon with proper understanding." He paused. "Alcaides does not want the inconvenience of finding a way to side with both armies.

"As such, you will both fight to the death for Alcaides' amusement, and I will side with the winner."

Garrick put his face in his hands. Sahshir had the feeling he'd been at this for some time. "If I might ask King Alcaides, how can you side with one of us when the battle would be won? Would that not... dilute your apparent magnificence somewhat."

"Then we shall make it a matter of single combat!" said Alcaides. "King Sahshir and Captain Garrick shall duel in single combat to the death!"

"It is considered unseemly among my people to kill kings," said Garrick. "Perhaps you would allow us to fight until first blood?"

"King Alcaides shall allow this," said Alcaides.

With a sigh, Sahshir stepped forward as the men parted ways. Garrick motioned, and a Dust Elven boy brought him his blade. Drawing it from the sheathe, he set it. Sahshir drew his own blade and took a stance. Garrick obviously knew what he was doing by his posture.

"You are not rested," noted Garrick. "Facing an exhausted opponent does not seem a fair match. The contract could be considered illegitimate. King Alcaides, will you allow me to pray to Coinfurth for victory?"

"As you wish," said Alcaides.

Garrick fell to his knees rather than sitting crosslegged or prostrating himself. Sahshir sat down crosslegged and examined his enemy. He wondered why he would not take the advantage. Tuor certainly would have, and Asim might have as well. Would Sahshir? It did not seem befitting a samurai, but the old ways had been fading a long time. Even so, it would be best to focus on victory. Garrick had superior reach and power; if he called on the winds, it could be trouble. Sahshir should thus get close.

Closing his eyes, Sahshir meditated. He pushed through the agony that filled him and gained strength. He pondered like this, musing over things, as Garrick remained kneeling.

After a few minutes, they rose and faced one another. Once again, their stances were held as their blades were out.

"Are you prepared?" asked Garrick.

"I am," said Sahshir.

"Begin!" cried Alcaides. "While Alcaides' patience lasts!"

Sahshir surged forward, his blade rushing toward Garrick. Yet even as he did, Garrick spun away and brought round a strike that nearly scraped his brow. Stepping back, Sahshir was almost stabbed by the massive blade before he parried it.

Springing into the air, Sahshir shot over the blade. Then he brought his sword down toward Garrick's neck. But the Dust Elf rolled forward and brought around his sword again. They clashed, and Sahshir was forced back by the weight of the stroke.

For a moment, they stood dead still. "You are skilled, Kalthakian. Well deserving of your reputation."

"Seldom have I seen so skilled an enemy who cared for nothing but money," noted Sahshir.

"Money is merely a representation of value," said Garrick. "Value is how all things are achieved. And you will not interfere."

"Yes!" cried Alcaides. "Yes, the fight pleases King Alcaides! Fight on! Fight on!"

Garrick surged forward, unleashing a flurry of blows that drove Sahshir back to the sea. Whenever he tried to break free of the onslaught or reverse momentum, Garrick would catch him. Soon he was fighting with the soldier on the pier.

Sahshir had an idea and ducked under a strike before slashing downward. His blade cut the boards at Garrick's feet, and they gave way. The Dust Elf sprang back, but Sahshir was on him at once. He drove Garrick back with one slash and thrust after another. Suddenly, just as he reached the sand, Garrick spun his sword, and a gust of wind put Sahshir off balance. He struck, but Sahshir allowed himself to fall.

Both slashed, and their blades rang.

For a moment, Sahshir wasn't sure what had happened. Then he saw a bloody mark on Garrick's cheek. Sahshir smiled. "You are defeated."

"Look down, Kalthakian," replied Garrick, voice calm.

Sahshir did look down and saw a wound on his leg. He'd hardly even felt it. Howling cheers came from the pirates as Alcaides leaped down from his cheer and neared them. "A draw, is it? Well, this is troublesome. The duel was to first blood, and King Alcaides doubts a rematch would be worthwhile.

"Let me see the wounds." Alcaides eyed each one carefully before turning to the audience. "King Sahshir inflicted the larger wound. He is the winner!"

"May I assume we are now enemies?" asked Garrick, sheathing his sword.

No reaction? No condemnation or fury at a defeat? Not even a sign of disappointment or injured pride? Was Garrick a man or an automaton like those made in ancient Namina?

"If you continue as you are, yes," said Alcaides. "But King Alcaides is merciful and will allow you to leave with your ships! And woe to you should King Alcaides meet you on the battlefield."

Garrick nodded. "Very well then, Men, we go to our ships. The Curse of Hatred is removed from this island. I am certain it will be productive once we have conquered it."

And he walked off with all his men.

"...There is an empty one," noted Alcaides. "But it matters not. Build the pyre! The time has come for us to burn the body of the Lord of Hatred. In so doing, we dispel the menace!"

"What will happen to the Domain of Hatred?" asked Nagos.

"It shall go beyond the influence of any power and bestow itself on one who is most deserving," said Alcaides. "That may be ages from now."

"How is that different from before?" asked Nagos.

"Before the domain of hatred could not take form," said Sahshir. "Now, with this pyre, it will once again be released. The plans of Elranor foiled."

Even so, Sahshir would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. Garrick hadn't even cared that he was defeated.

Only once they were on Sheltath, Sahshir realized Garrick would make a good samurai. It was an odd realization that a mercenary should have such honor and devotion. Yet it was a different kind of honor, which Sahshir did not understand fully. He wondered who had taught it to Garrick and what reception he would receive on his return home.

Would he be punished for failure? Disgraced? Or applauded?

Sahshir decided he could not hate the man in the end.