It was a bright but chilly day by the standards of Artarq, which meant it was sweltering. Though the distance was a blur when you looked from the towers, the palace gardens were cooler than most places. It was a place of flowing water and many strange and foreign plants. At the center of this place was a Gazebo, and Father waited for his visitor to arrive.

William focused on playing his harp. It was not as great as the one he had given up to the goddess Alchara some time ago, but it was still beautiful. Father had had it commissioned of him. Massacre the Chimera seemed to enjoy the music just as much. However, it did not have the same power.

Then their visitor arrived. He was a satyr, and a tall one at that. He wore a metal mask over his face and was shrouded all in white. He sat down across from Vanion. William played his harp to one side in a chair in the corner. He kept his head down and his hood up.

"Ah, Karasush," said Father, "I trust the roads were not too troublesome?"

"Not at all, Duke Vanion," said Karasush. "Though it has been a long time since I had to travel by normal means. Within Fortenex and Kreshlak, I can move freely, but in other worlds, I must walk like anyone else.

"In truth, I have become a bit out of shape."

"Would you care for some wine?" asked Father, motioning to several cups which had been laid out and a bottle. "It is a satyr variety, grown by your cousins in the vineyards of Seathorius."

"Yes, thank you," said Karasush.

Father motioned to Felix, who emerged from where no one had seen him holding a jug. A sword was at his side. How did he do that? The dark-skinned boy poured the wine.

Karasush took his. William half expected him to remove his mask. But instead, the mask itself opened near the mouth, revealing jagged teeth and tan skin. He sipped it as Vanion did the same. "Seathorius wine is considered a great delicacy amongst my people," mused Karasush. "How did you know of it?"

"I didn't. I am merely experimenting," admitted Father. "The recent peace between the Nakmar and their satyr neighbors is good. It has allowed trade to flourish in places where there was none before. The negotiations are ongoing, but I believe there may be a good market for this wine."

"We have never been able to produce it," admitted Karasush. "The cold weather of Khasmir means we have to rely on more cold weather vines. They are less sweet and more bitter."

"No doubt some will prefer them," mused Father, sipping his cup again. "Now, what exactly is it that you wished to speak to me about?"

"Yes, very recently, a powerful artifact of my god was recovered by your son," said Karasush. "I was hoping that it might be returned to us."

"Ah, yes, that," said Father. "I wish to, of course; I do not like denying any religion their sacred artifacts. But, unfortunately, the Axe of Fortenex has been infused with an enormous amount of life force. Thanks to the prodigious bloodshed that ensued around its recovery.

"If someone worthy of it were to wield it, there could be massive destruction. Moreover, with Melchious still out there, it is possible he could steal it. If that happened, he would enact his dark will using the weapon."

William didn't believe that Father would give the Axe to Karasush's hands. Not if the weapon were powerless and Melchious dead. Their status as allies was a convenience. Nothing more. Karasush would have been as happy working for Calisha or Melchious. Who he sided with depended on who had emerged victorious in Khasmir. He remembered the bodies, the burned villages, the carnage. Karasush had wreaked all of it.

To save his people? Perhaps. Had it been an accident? Perhaps. Could they afford to kill him? No. "Fortenex does not reward failures," said Karasush. "Melchious lost the axe. He would have to redeem himself in the eyes of my god before he was allowed to wield it again. And the demoness you call Arraxia was found unworthy."

"That does not mean they might not prove worthy later," said Father. "Fortunately, plans are already in motion to ensure Melchious never has the chance to do so. However, you must understand I do not have the authority to give the axe into your hands. The Paladin Order must make that decision. They hold authority over such things."

"Then perhaps you could speak to them on my behalf?" suggested Karasush.

"I will, but I promise nothing," said Father. "The reality is that most of the King's subjects regard you as an enemy who has escaped justice. Giving you the axe now would play into my rival's hands and make King Andoa look weak.

"No, you must prove yourself before I can do that."

"Then the worshippers of Fortenex shall do so," said Karasush. "You merely need to say how."

"There is," mused Father. "I have been hoping to establish colonies in Khasmir. But, of course, I have no intention of displacing you. Yet, there is room enough with all the territory freed up in the recent war. These would merely be military trading posts—places where the excess population of Harlenor would be able to go in search of a new life.

"Of course, High Chieftain Relg will never cede any of his territories to me, no matter the situation. So I would like to purchase the land from you." He drew out a map and unrolled it. Setting it down on the table, he pointed to several areas. "Here, and here, and here in particular."

"These areas are all between my people and the worshippers of Kreshlak," mused Karasush.

"Yes," said Father. "I have heard of the skirmishes between your peoples, and I desire that they stop. By creating a buffer zone between them, I hope to maintain peace." And if either clans attacked the colonists, Vanion had a reason to conquer them. If they didn't, peace would reign.

It gave opportunities for glory either way. However, William and Father would prefer the latter.

"It may work," admitted Karasush. "I am certain we can come to some form of arrangement. It would help us pay the debt we owe Relg and also our tribute to Antion. Yet I must speak with the Chieftains in this regard. I am recognized as the leader of all the tribes of Fortenex. Yet my power is not absolute."

"Then go and seek their answer," said Father. "Now, excuse me, I have another meeting to attend."

"You mean the demoness Arraxia," mused Karasush.

She was here. William sensed her. Her shadow was cast over the courtyard, visible in the form of a girl his age. "You are perceptive, Karasush. Do run along," said the girl. "I have a meeting with an equal to attend to."

"Hubris suits no one, milady," said Karasush. He finished his drink. Then he departed without another word.

"I truly cannot abide that you didn't cut his throat," said Arraxia.

"It is better to convert an enemy to your side than destroy them," said Father. "Something which I would have thought a demon like yourself would understand all too well."

"Only when they can be relied upon," said Arraxia. "For all his submission claims, Karasush is no one's subject save his own."

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"Whatever the case, I am glad that you were able to attend," said Vanion. "We have some business to discuss."

"Unless you desire to swear fealty, I sincerely doubt it," mused Arraxia. Then she looked straight at William. "How have you been, dear William? Oh? Nothing to say? A pity, I do so enjoy our conversations."

"I assure you, the feeling is not mutual," said William, drawing off his hood. "You've tried to kill me twice now."

"Yes. Yes, I suppose I have," mused Arraxia, tone nostalgic. "All mortals die. To be honest, I'm being exceedingly considerate by taking the matter out of your hands."

"I am aware of your reasons," said Father. "My son is a means by which Melchious can gradually return to this world now that you have driven him out. Of course, the question would be easily answered with my support."

"Are you suggesting an alliance?" asked Arraxia.

"Nothing of the sort," said Father. "I am bound to the will of Elranor and could not in good conscience support a demon. But, of course, should it come to it, I could see myself arranging for support for the lesser of two evils.

"All I ask in return is that you stop these meaningless attempts on William's life."

"You do mean an alliance. Very well, I shall humor your delusions of being my equal," said Arraxia. "I am not unreasonable. So far from it, reason itself flows wholly from my opinions."

"There is one other thing," said Father.

"You test my patience," said Arraxia. "What is it you desire?"

"I want you to stop attacking ships that sail along Savior's Run," said Vanion.

"Oh, but Doltier and all his little friends enjoy it," said Arraxia. "It would be a shame to deny them such simple pleasures."

"No one sails down Savior's Run anymore," said Father. "No one has for years. The satyrs have caused all the merchants to take the sea instead of the direct route. Yet consider this: What if instead of robbing vessels, you charged them a fee for trading?"

"Well, that would be a less violent solution," admitted Arraxia. "But violence does have its appeal."

"Haven't you ever wondered why Melchious was never anything more than a brigand?" asked Father. "It was because his satyrs, for all their fury, could never organize. They were always fighting someone and could not be unified or made to better themselves.

"Imagine what would happen if you brought them into a new age of prosperity? The warriors you use in constant minor skirmishes could be used for greater wars."

"Well, that does sound rather nice," mused Arraxia. "Yet, why should you care?"

"I am always looking for accomplishments to parade before the court of Antion," said Father. "Opening up a new trade route will do wonders for my reputation. And it will make reinforcing Artarq that much easier."

"You do seem to have thought all this through," said Arraxia. "Very well, we have an agreement." She offered a hand.

"Excellent," said Father. He took it and winced at the contact.

The shadow faded away. Father looked to the guards who had stood by with drawn swords and then relaxed. William hadn't wanted to fight Arraxia again. And he knew her well enough to think she might start something.

"You did very well, William," said Father.

"There didn't seem very much for me to say anyway," said William. "Father, are you sure we can trust Arraxia?" She was now regarded as a growing power. She had secured her borders with the Nakmar and was throwing up fortified towns.

"We can trust her to look after her best interests," said Father. "Antion does not have any major enemies at present. But, doubtless, she is concerned about the possibility of a full-scale invasion. And if we need to crush her, we can do so.

"Of course, that does not mean she can actually do what I asked of her. How much control she has over the satyrs. This is a test of her abilities.

"She might try to seize the Axe of Fortenex," noted William.

"Put your mind at ease," said Father. "The Axe will soon be well away from here, and we will no longer have to concern ourselves with it. So now there is one last meeting for us to have."

At that moment, a familiar, beautiful, blonde-haired girl approached. She was about three years William's elder with a bowl cut. She was clad in white armor and wore two newly forged Nakmar swords. She bowed. One of her hands was shaking as she gripped a sword. "Captain Hrungeld of Viokinar is here, Duke Vanion."

"Thank you, Tanith. I would have you stay for this," said Father, motioning to a seat.

Captain Hrungeld, the minotaur, made his entrance. His massive brown-furred frame could scarcely fit inside the gazebo entrance. He had more gray hairs in his beard from the last time William saw him. He bowed his head respectfully as he stood before Father.

"It has been some years, Captain Hrungeld," said Father.

"It has indeed, Duke Vanion," said Hrungeld. "You've made a name for yourself in that time, as has your son." He looked at William. "You've come into your own since you fell overboard."

William smiled as he remembered his old self. That was a scared fourteen-year-old who cowered at the sight of a white satyr. He'd stood his ground before far more terrible things since then. "Yes. Captain Hrungeld, I apologize for my cowardice on the ship. I should have-"

Hrungeld raised a hand. "Say no more. Raynald ordered you to stay out of it. Besides, I've had great business from Seathorius since you put that demoness in power. Satyr wine is always profitable, and we've made enormous profits selling it.

"Those creatures are vicious in a fight, but no one can fault them their drinks."

"Yes, well, we'll need you," said Father. "I need you to transport something for us."

The minotaur eyed him. "What, exactly?"

"This," said Father, reaching below the table and drawing out a long package. It was tied with many bandages and etched with runes. As he set it down, its sound was far heavier than it should have been.

It hurt when you looked at it. And one could faintly hear screams. Then, as one looked closer, it seemed like red liquid was pouring out of the bandages. But when you blinked, it was gone.

"That box is as though blood is seeping out of the cracks," mused Hrungeld. "What unholy artifact lies within?"

"One that must not be reclaimed under any circumstances," said Father. "I cannot say more. I intend to have it purified or at least kept safe in Antion. I have reason to believe that any normal ship I send would be ambushed. To send a fleet would only attract attention. You must sail to the Port of Brisnar and meet Lady Rusara and Raynald in the Weeping Maiden tavern.

"You will then pass this to her. I ask that you make as few stops as possible on this expedition."

"Yes, yes, I see," said Hrungeld. "I am bound first for Port Otter to sell spices to the Nakmar. I will then purchase weapons to sell there. Nakmar Swords are very good, and I'll be losing a decent profit."

"I will, of course, compensate you," said Father, "Felix."

Felix emerged from where he had been standing all along. Not that anyone except William had noticed him. He'd melded with the shadows themselves. Now he placed down a large chest upon the table and opened it.

Hrungeld looked at the gold within and smiled. "This is a fortune."

"I will give you this now," said Father. "When the mission is completed, and I know that Rusara lay hands on the package, I shall gladly pay you the other half."

"You are a wealthy man, Duke Vanion," noted Hrungeld.

"You overestimate me," said Father with a smile. "Oh, and this is Tanith Telus, a veteran of the Khasmir campaign and a student of Raynald De Chevlon. She and Felix will accompany your ship and ensure everything is in order. And so will Massacre here."

Massacre, the Chimera looked up for the first time during the conversation. Or at least her goat head looked up. She eyed Hrungeld blearily. "Bah."

"A chimera?" said Hrungeld, voice doubtful.

"I will supply all the food you need for her," said Father. "She is merely there to ensure everything goes well and to act as security."

"I don't like being imposed on," mused Hrungeld.

"Bah," said Massacre. Hrungeld flinched.

"And I would not say in other circumstances," said Father. "But this is far too serious to leave without an escort."

"Very well, I'll do it," said Hrungeld. "I'll tell no one on the crew that doesn't need to know either. Safer that way. I'll leave with the tide."

"Thank you, Hrungeld," said Father.

"Now, I'll take this with me and get the men ready," said Hrungeld, picking up the case. "Good day to both of you."

As Hrungeld left, William looked after him. Then he looked to Father. "Father, I'm not sure about sending Felix off on this venture?"

"I know you don't like being deprived of a servant and friend," said Father. "However, you will have to manage without him for a time. Someone has to control Massacre, and no one besides yourself is friendly enough with her."

"Bah," snapped Massacre.

"Felix, I'm sorry you have to go to all this inconvenience," said Father.

"I made a fortune investing in the malas trade before you started selling it to Calisha," said Felix. The dark-skinned boy was clad in finer clothes than three months ago. "I feel I owe you something."

"A just point," mused Father, a slight smile on his lips.

"Still, be careful," said William.

Felix smirked. "Who do you think I am? You?"

William laughed. "Fair enough."

It looked like the start of another adventure. Fortunately, William was not going to be a part of it. Which was good; he could heal more people this way.