Lord Dunmoore was in a very, very, good mood. Even if he would never admit it.

Of course, it was nice to have someone remember his victories. But, in truth, it was the satisfaction of revenge that Dunmoore enjoyed more.

The inward howls of impudent fury he'd seen on the faces of his 'friends' had been addicting. He'd seen how it was, and Letan reeled back. He had been more hurt by William's blundering good intentions than he had ever been by knives. The degradation these knaves had felt that a Paladin of fifteen could outfight them.

By the Gods, it was liberating to see Atravain's daughters coming into their own. To play hostess to these spoiled wretches was a fate such beautiful and intelligent girls did not deserve. But better still, Arkan and Letan and all the other scoundrels of noble blood had gotten beaten so easily. So final glorious battle, no moment of total dominance.

Complete annihilation.

The darkness that had been thrown over the eyes of the nobles, willing or no, was shattered. And those spoiled creatures who disgraced their lineage by drinking were waking up. Whether they liked it or not. Even now, the wretches were aware their livelihoods were threatened. They feared a world moving past them, not needing them anymore, though they did not realize it.

So some scurried in their fear to back a righteous cause. And those who had never departed that cause now went forth to fight.

However, what bothered Dunmoore was that he got through so easily!

No mass hanging, no death in battle by vengeful heroes, no heroic peasant revolt. Their machinations were defeated, and they got off scot-free. The truth of their crimes had been shown to them all, and Dunmoore had let them go.

What now of this meeting? This impromptu session was where murderers and thieves, and nobility were yelling. They were blaming everyone but themselves for the trap they had dug with their own hands.

It was pathetic. But there were some notable figures here.

"Well," said Lilas. "Things seem to be going badly for our friends in the church."

"No, they're going well," said Dunmoore. "There is nothing that the priests of Elranor hate more than Elranor himself."

"Dunmoore is right," said Arkan. "I suspect that Cirithil and his cronies made an infernal pact long ago. Whatever the force was, it gave them protection and limitless wealth and luxury. In exchange, they discredit and destroy their faith. Cirithil has better luck than his skill warrants, it can't be natural.

"From that perspective, Rundas' outburst is simply the final step. Demons usually break their tools.

"The church has been discredited by noble and commoner alike. The Paladin Order cannot hope to fill the void ripped open.

"House Gabriel might have salvaged it through Rundas. But that route of escape is now altogether ruined. I expect the Bride of Elranor shall be eaten alive by new suitors."

"Be assured, Arkan, those demons regard us as tools as well," said Dunmoore. "They will seek to break us."

"What makes you say they're demonically possessed?" asked Tavish, who knew a thing or two.

"It's something about their eyes," said Gavkin, who knew a thing or two about this. "When someone is deep enough in demonic influence, their eyes go dead. But, usually, they can fake being alive well enough when in a social situation.

"But put them in a position where their master's plans are threatened, and you can see who they are. They don't usually have any will left in the matter, being wholly ensnared by the darkness."

"I wouldn't know," said Lamech, whose eyes were flaring a particularly bright shade of yellow. He seemed absurdly pleased by this turn of events. It might be necessary to smite that one, for his own sake as well as the world's. Child though he was, Lamech was a powerful blackguard and had to be removed.

It was the only move against the demons they could make. That worried Dunmoore.

"Alright, keep your secrets Lamech," said Tavish. "But I know you had something to do with this."

"If you're referring to a string of mysterious murders of 'good' priests," said Lamech. "I was eleven years old."

"I wasn't aware you liked gambling," said Tavish, raising an eyebrow.

"I prefer to see it as a leap of faith," said Lamech.

Both of them laughed at this, and many others started laughing as well. Dunmoore remained silent as he contemplated matters. Arkan, on the other hand, had his face go stony and began to contemplate, his eyes turning to malice toward his adopted son. Dunmoore met the gaze and then looked to Lamech.

Well, that was it.

Lamech needed to die. The old High Priest Alonsus had been like a Father to Dunmoore and inspired him to become a Paladin. But if Lamech was hoping to get an emotional reaction from him, he'd be disappointed.

Tavish was the closest thing to someone who was sympathetic in this mess. He was a slaving, traitorous murderer. His main redeeming quality was to family, and even he knew it wasn't going to last. The last Dunmoore had heard, Tavish was trying to get out, though he had a sword at his side.

Lamech would stop that, so the relationship had to be cut. There was Lamech, in black armor as always. His sword was on hand because nobody would ever dare try to take it away from him.

Finally, there was Lord Dunmoore himself. A hypocrite without conscience who had betrayed the spirit of his oath. This loathsome image of the splendor of knights of old was no knight at all. Simply a charlatan with great experience in battle.

Dunmoore hoped these miserable wretches might destroy one another. That was nothing to arrange; the problem was doing it in a way that did not hurt the innocent.

Dunmoore had his as well, though the thieves had been disarmed here. He was thinking everything that Dunmoore was thinking right now. Dunmoore had tried to get him honest work, and he'd used him as a tool to make a pact with infernal powers. Lamech, an image of hell, stared back at him and their gaze met in silent challenge.

"In the meantime," said Dunmoore. "We have one another to settle with."

There was no laughter there.

They might have found it funny if Arkan had said it, but Arkan looked to be in a bad mood. He usually got like this when his plans didn't go as he liked. Even now, he feared his plans slipping beyond his grasp. Worst of all, he was far from Antion and his planned escape route. So if things went badly enough, he might suffer consequences for his action.

But, as much as Dunmoore would like to watch that happen, he was obligated to salvage the situation. The problem was that the royal family was involved in this. So until such a time as they could cut these parasites loose, the system had to be maintained.

That meant they needed a common enemy.

"Prince Aras is becoming more powerful by the day," said Dunmoore. "Reg Hawkthorne is still unaccounted for, and his documentation is being examined. The plague is no longer a disruption, so Atravain has a free hand. And thanks to Lamech's well-placed contacts, the church is useless to us.

"Many of our contacts in the Paladin Order have cut contact overnight. And even Jehair seems to have all but taken his side."

"If I recall, Lord Dunmoore, you were supposed to keep the nobles wining and dining," said Lilas. He was thin-wristed and ever the helpful social climber. "With the church discredited, the Paladin Order has increased in power."

"The church was already discredited," said Tavish.

"I was merely noting that the Lord Dunmoore refused to intercede on Rundas' behalf," said Lilas.

"Rundas was stupid," said Dunmoore. "He began a confrontation he wasn't prepared for and lost it when the nobility stuck by their own.

"He had already lost the battle by the time William entered the castle. Spitting in his face only made William realize who his enemy was."

"And why didn't you keep him at the castle?" asked Lilas. "Now he's gone off into nowhere. Dealing with him will be much more difficult now."

Lilas all but ran Ascorn and let Rius run it into the ground while remaining guilt-free. Dunmoore guessed Lilas planned to trade up from his holdings to run Ascorn. He'd abandoned the wood reached to the druid's ages ago. And Jehair was now the general go-between in that location.

"And how am I supposed to prepare for a chimera walking up and asking for an audience?" asked Dunmoore. "Or for him to convince Atravain to sell us up the river.

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"Now her family are on the warpath against our holdings."

"The work that William Gabriel began, Luke is going to finish. And my Paladins have been put in a position where we must assist him.

"What did you take his message for, Tavish?!"

"Screw you, got mine," said Tavish with a shrug.

"Would you like to say that again louder so we can hear it," said Lamech, with a smile. He almost seemed like he liked Tavish. Theirs was an odd friendship that could end with a knife blow at any time.

"Screw you, got mine," said Tavish. "I've got a job to do that has nothing to do with Antion. Lord Kern has an operation he wants done; working with Gabriel let me advance that operation. It smooths over a lot of problems, and now I have an in.

"I take my orders from him."

"Lilas, has come out of this looking very well," said Arkan, turning to him. "Perhaps we can arrange him a more favorable position once House Gabriel packs up and leaves. Rius obviously can't be relied on.

"Lilas and Sir Gabriel did get on well, after all."

"I stand ready to serve in whatever way the Thieves Guild desires," said Lilas.

This was ridiculous.

Lilas attempt at a powerplay was only going to get him killed. The man did not appreciate the necessity for martial prowess. Perhaps it would be good to give him a fair warning and assert dominance. Still, not without provocation, Lilas had not done anything to Dunmoore yet.

"So you have said," said Lamech. "Which makes this all your fault either way."

Oh, so Lamech was going for a confrontation? Good, Dunmoore hadn't killed a Blackguard in a long time. Best to play along. "I don't have to take that from you, Lamech, you faithless mongrel."

"Enough," said Arkan.

"Arkan?" asked Tavish, who had always gotten on well.

"I've been looking over the maps," said Arkan. "William's pattern is apparent."

"Pattern?" asked Tavish. "He's been wandering this whole time aimlessly."

"No, he has not," said Arkan. "He has a very determined purpose, thus why he is able to move so quickly. As far as I can tell, he has two goals.

"First, to stop the plague by any means necessary. Second, to dismantle our organizations.

"Raynald and Rusara knew this to be how he would react, thus why they sent him. Jehair is a professional and likely steering him to that end. Her own agenda would only be helped by our destruction at this stage."

"Both have fled east, and the attacks on their holdings begin even now.

"Of course, William knows he's being used. But he'll do as he has been trained to do because he likes doing it. And, at this stage, he has no incentive not to cooperate with Raynald's plans." Lilas was looking with interest. "Raynald trained his attack dog well."

"So you have no plan for a hero?" asked Dunmoore, incredulous.

"The plan has always been to be the lesser evil," said Arkan. "We make sure we are the least vile of the 'evil' factions and ally against the vampires. The naive, wide-eyed idealists need someone to guide them. They use our help, live happily ever after and decide we're not total monsters."

"It won't work on Gabriel," said Lamech.

"Oh, come off it," said Tavish. "He's just trying to get to Gel Carn and got sidetracked."

"William is intelligent and highly motivated," said Lamech. "He finds our existence abhorrent. He may not 'want' to be here, but he will not forget us again. Luxury has no hold over him; he camped in the street to save on silver. His healing powers give him the pretext to go where he wishes. And he is a dangerous warrior with powerful companions.

"Our enemy cannot be bargained with, negotiated with, or bribed."

"Well, then, Dunmoore," said Lilas. "Perhaps you should take your best men you can rely on, find William Gabriel, and kill him immediately. He is, after all, your subordinate." That seemed provocation enough.

But something more ought to be brought out. "Considering your position in the church, Lilas, you have little fear of Elranor."

"In my experience," said Lilas with a smirk. "The gods help those who help themselves. And usually not in their name." And he dangled a symbol of Elranor before pocketing it. "Very nice silver.

"But the simple is a bit outworn."

That was enough atheism from the priesthood.

Dunmoore punched Lilas in the face, breaking his nose and sending him floor to the ground with a cry. As he tried to get up, Dunmoore kicked him in the crotch with an armored boot. Then drawing his sword, he raised it to kill him right there and then. Lilas staggered back, staring up in terror.

"Dunmoore, if you kill Lilas, we have no puppet in Ascorn," said Arkan with a sigh. "You know how important that port is to operations. And Rius is done for at this point. Besides, Lamech is right.

"This is not personal, it is not political, and it has nothing to do with religion. It is necessary for Sir Gabriel to be taken out of the picture."

Dunmoore sheathed his sword as Lilas gasped in fear beneath him, pulling until he was backed into the corner. Turning away, Dunmoore changed his mind, turned, and stepped on Lilas' leg until he heard the snap. Lilas screamed, and Dunmoore turned around as a single, sorrowful tear went down his cheek.

Lilas had begun to sob uncontrollably in agony.

"What the hell are you complaining about, archdeacon?" asked Tavish. "You and your buddies own the Healers Guild? If you can't pay the listed prices, I've no sympathy at all."

"I don't think he can walk like this," said Lamech in amusement.

"I've walked with a broken leg before," said Arkan in irritation. "And walking out of this room in a splint could attract attention."

"Dunmoore, heal him. You've made your point."

Dunmoore nodded and turned to heal him. Setting his hand on his leg, Dunmoore channeled the power of Elranor. It felt foreign, but the leg knitted, as did his nose and he helped him up. "Lilas, don't ever insult the gods in my presence again."

Lilas was white-faced and shuddered and Dunmoore moved him over to a seat. Lamech motioned to two men who poured him a drink. Lilas took it and drank it while gasping. "Alright, Lilas. Have a drink and we'll think about your proposition. Just remember; Being under a noble's roof is no protection when you are suggesting murdering a noble.

"Especially one who is the son of somebody much more important than you."

"You cannot simply cut down the scion of a great house in public," said Dunmoore.

"Then find him in a dark place far from help and kill him in his sleep," said Arkan.

"And hope it's not like this one," said Tavish.

Dunmoore considered his chances of killing everyone in this room.

The problem was that these men were only the faces of their organization. Decapitating them would throw those organizations into chaos. However, it would be impossible to manage them. That would mean all out war, at a time when the nobility did not know the sides and were unprepared. If these men stayed alive, then things would continue to move against organized crime.

So Dunmoore would have to give the appearance of hunting Gabriel in some form.

"What about Atravain?" asked Tavish suddenly. "She likes him and she might wreck everything. She's gone to a lot of our meetings."

"Prince Bor was at the meeting, so she can't expose us directly," said Arkan. "Not without implicating the royal family, at any rate."

Lamech paused. "We have those slaving contracts.

"The ones' that run through Blackfear. Cirithil has a source of them that has hitherto been untapped. If Atravain were to lose her slaves, Cirithil could supply what she needed.

"Make her need slaves, and Cirithil will be the only supplier. He can fleece her."

"Which will mean Rundas' and the church will owe us a favor," said Arkan.

"No killing the slaves," said Arkan. "Imogen's orders and you don't want to disobey those. If you do, you'll have a very bad run of luck.

"The Goddess of Thieves is not one to be crossed lightly."

"Fine by me," said Tavish. "I can free some of them from plantations and trade them back to Kata as a peace offering. Maybe get a meeting with Tanith Telus while we're at it."

"Going for the titles, huh?" asked Imogen.

"Now or never," said Tavish. "Run a few messages through Rius, talk to Anborn, and I'll be set. Edmund Telus has some debts to pay off.

"I think I can help."

"I'll take care of negotiations," said Arkan. "I need to check up on the Ascorn Thieves Guilt anyway. Lilas' plan should be underway by then, so it should give us everything we need."

"Then we all have our plans," said Dunmoore.

Silence.

"Good luck, everyone," said Arkan.

Tavish nodded. "You too."

Dunmoore stayed where he was as everyone walked out of the room. Lilas last of all, looked at him with hate. Spinal vanished into the shadows, and Imogen paused. All of them would be at one another's throats in only a little while, knowing it. Looking to Gavkin who had stood silent for some time, he considered things.

"Gavkin," said Dunmoore. "Lamech is a problem.

"I don't want to see at another meeting."

"Yes sir," said Gavkin, standing up and loosening his hammer. "I'll handle it."

"Good," said Dunmoore. "Meet me on the crossroads outside Antres and see if you can get some help over to Luke Atravain and his people. Harm must not be brought to them."

"What of Sir Gabriel?" asked Gavkin.

"I'll deal with that matter as I see fit," said Dunmoore. "And personally, if it comes to it.

"Send in Suran when you leave. He's not be told about any of this."

"I swear it shall be done," said Gavkin.

And he left.

A little while later, Suran came back. The meeting was taking place in Lady Atravain's own castle, in one of the far-off and distant rooms. In the old west wing. "Lord Dunmoore, you wanted to speak with me after the meeting."

"Suran, we must talk," said Dunmoore.

"What is it?" asked Suran.

"You're going to Ascorn to heal the sick and injured," said Dunmoore. "Don't argue; it's good work, and it will repair your image."

"But Lord Dunmoore, I want to fight-" said Suran.

"I know," said Dunmoore. "But this happens to every Paladin. Sometimes you get stuck with missions you don't like. You just have to do them anyway and keep going until you get out of the narrows.

"I shall be plain; you've been too focused on advancing. I know you have your reasons, and they are good ones. But you've overplayed your part.

"You cannot win this rivalry with William Gabriel, and it is a waste of your time.

"It has nothing to do with your quality. He has a power of healing I have not seen in a long time. He is highly talented, well-connected, better trained, and has better lineage and riches. By trying to defeat him, you are moving the battle into his own ground.

"You will have to restart from the ground up."

"All over?" asked Suran. "How did I misstep?"

"You didn't precisely," said Dunmoore. "But your conversation with Baron Hawkthorne has stained his reputation. At present, he is your best and only means of advancement.

"You snubbed all of those nobles. And unlike Sir Gabriel, you lack political and family connections. So their words have power over you. No one except Baron Hawkthorne will risk insulting them by helping you.

"Letan might be an alternative, but he is not a martial man. And he can't be connected to you after losing face."

"What was this meeting about?" asked Suran. "I didn't like the look of some of those in it. Gavkin looked grim."

"Nothing. Just the usual shameful realities of politics," Dunmoore sighed. "Evil men, Suran, think that brutality and cruelty give you power. They assume that the ability to twist and destroy is the ultimate measure of strength.

"But when you twist something else, you are also twisting yourself."

"Like the Devouring Sword from my world," said Suran. "In the old legends."

"Precisely," said Dunmoore.

There was silence for a moment.

"Are you afraid you'll fall?" asked Suran.

"Everyone falls the first time, Suran," said Dunmoore. "Everyone.

"Now, some people fall earlier than most. Some fall worse than others. William fell before he became a Paladin and picked himself up the first time. I fell... somewhere along the line, and so has everyone else.

"The measure of a man is not his ability to make no mistakes. Mistakes are inevitable when taking risks."

"Right," said Suran. "This uh... this isn't working out as I'd thought it would."

"It never does," said Dunmoore sadly. "I've become a lot of things I never wanted to be. Dismissed."

"Yes sir," said Suran.

For his part, Dunmoore wrote out a detailed account of the meeting. Then, copying it several times, he sent three letters. One to Atravain, whose very castle it had happened in. And one to King Gavin, and one to King Andoa. The last and fourth he sent to Raynald De Chevlon and told him to use it for later.

And Raynald had messengers waiting to take it. And the last, he sent to Princess Ansara, who he knew to be far more intelligent than she let on.

It would soon be time for a cleansing flame.