Kedemar and Dath knelt in the wet dirt of the forest floor, in the middle of the Kathiran company's camp, only two men in a long row of seventy-odd prisoners surrounded by the cruel soldiers. All the captives' hands were chained behind them, the iron manacles attached in turn to a long length of connecting chain. That chain was staked to the ground at both ends, ensuring an uncomfortable position for the prisoners. Escape was impossible: any attempt would be foiled by the noise that the chain would make.

Not that Kedemar cared. He didn't care about hardly anything anymore. Fierce grief and anger filled him to the point where he knew nothing else.

Nat was dead. He'd failed to protect her, and she was... and Haeil too.

No tears fell, though. No moisture wet his eyes in his grief. He was too angry. He knelt there in the mud, staring at the ground. Didn't comprehend anything his eyes were seeing. He loved Natalya, he realized. And the realization smote him with knife-sharp pain, right in the chest where his heart should have been. It didn't seem like his heart existed anymore but in shattered pieces and icy shards. And he didn't care anymore.

***

Dath surveyed the line of seventy-odd prisoners. Obsidian, most of them. Myra, Jashur. Adalyyn, who lay moaning in her chains, her leg laying out before her, bent awkwardly in many places, evidence of her fight against their captors. Dannyl and his family were among the prisoners. Everyone else that had ridden with the king seemed to have died.

A lad named Tanner, the Obsidian's chief scout.

Benn, the traitorous healer.

Gone, all of them. Grief was a hard burden to bear for a king. And that grief far outweighed the physical pain Dath knew he would feel later, as he saw Ulrek stalking up the line of prisoners toward him. Anger smoldered within the king. It was Ulrek who had shattered Adalyyn's leg in a fit of gleeful savagery when the Obsidian woman had fought for her freedom.

The black-clad assassin was working his way down the line, studying each prisoner's face by turn, looking for someone. Looking for-- Dath knew-- him.

Ulrek halted in front of Dath, and the king lifted his head to meet his eyes. Dath's gaze didn't waver as Ulrek sneered down at him. The bounty hunter even smiled a little. A faint, mocking smile that seemed to infuriate the assassin to no end.

"Hello, Ulrek." Dath said cheerfully. "I wished a while back to never see your ugly, living face again, but it seems the One had other plans."

That insulting comment earned him an open-handed slap full across the face. Dath's head snapped to the side, and he winced as he bit his tongue. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Ulrek grabbed his jaw and turned his face back. They eyed each other coldly as the assassin snarled,

"Wishes, ha! I will make you wish doubly that you had died in that warehouse in Bethmüda before I am done with you!" He leaned close, his foul breath filling Dath's nostrils.

"You will not escape my power again, Dathran, and before I am done with you, you will beg for merciful death, but I will not give it." Ulrek hissed. Dath merely spat in the face of his threat. Ulrek jerked away as the bloody spittle spattered his face. Dath had barely time for a smile of triumph before Ulrek's boot drove into his gut. Dath doubled over nearly onto his face, gasping and retching.

Momentarily satisfied, the assassin took a step further on down the line of captives. He stopped in front of Kedemar. Took the unresponsive captain's jaw in hand and tilted his face up. Ulrek studied the young man as Kedemar closed his eyes against the world.

"Is this the boy Gavin Fay is so interested in?" He smiled, glancing down at Dath. Saw the truth in the bounty hunter's face. Ulrek chuckled.

"Wouldn't he make some fine sport?" The assassin purred.

Dath surged up as far as the chains would allow, launching himself at the assassin but falling woefully short.

"You will not touch him!" He snarled, struggling to gain his footing. Ulrek merely laughed, unconcerned.

"You would not be able to stop me." He replied. Paused as an idea struck him. Smiled malevolently, tightening his hold on Kedemar's jaw. "Perhaps his pain would loosen your tongue?" He suggested.

Dath's eyed widened as he gave up the fruitless struggle against the thick chain.

"Don't." He whispered. "Please, don't. Do what you want with me, but please, I'm begging you, do not touch the lad."

Ulrek laughed, releasing Kedemar. "Your care for him is touching, Dath. Don't worry, I will not hurt the boy. I mean for him to be a gift to Gavin. The boy will live or die by his own choices in Gavin's hand. You, on the other hand," His eyes narrowed at the king. "You will die here, by my blade. There will be no escape for you this time. No river to carry you away. No forsworn assassin traitor to rescue you. You are alone." And with those parting words, Ulrek spun on his heel and strode away.

Dath bowed his head, fighting his misery and fear as dusk gathered around them.

He did not doubt the truth of Ulrek's words. All that was left of his true allies were prisoners with him. And if Haeil was alive, he would have met them at the way-house.

Ulrek was right. There would be no escape this time.

***

Night fell. The captives shivered in the cold, denied blankets, fire-warmth, and food. Each was given only a swallow of water, the first drink they'd had in hours.

The Kathirans slept, all except for the sentries posted around the camp's perimeter. Light snores and some sleepy babble drifted on the chilly breeze.

Dath and the rest of his company tried their best to rest, but it was nearly impossible while kneeling in cold mud, chained together. The children among them whimpered, some crying out. Unable to do anything, and wanting to weep, Dath at least fell into a light, fitful sleep.

***

In the wee hours of the morning, when all was black and still, a shadowy figure crept through the forest at the fringes of the Kathiran's camp outside the glow of the campfires' coals, sliding from shadow to dark shadow. No leaf was stirred up at its passing, no breeze swirled in its wake. Not even a whisper of sound was heard as the figure stole up behind a sleepy Kathiran sentry. There was a barely audible cracking of bone as the intruder reached silently up and suddenly grabbed the sentry's head, twisting it savagely to the side. The sentry crumpled and the intruder lowered him silently to the forest loam before moving on to the next watchman. The figure ghosted up to him, wraithlike, sliding a hand over the soldier's mouth and slipping a slim dagger in the man's back, between his ribs, up into his heart. A slight noise as the sentry gasped and exhaled, and then he too was laid gently in the mud.

So all the sentries were disposed of, quickly, silently, efficiently.

And then the shadowy figure slipped into the camp proper.

***

Something as feather-light as a mere breath of air moved the chains at Dath's wrists and he woke suddenly from his light doze. The king's head snapped up. Something, someone, was fiddling with the lock of the manacles around the king's wrists. After a couple of seconds, it clicked quietly, and the chains fell silently away into the stranger's waiting hands.

"Be silent." A young voice whispered in Dath's ear as a knife hilt was pressed into his hand. He bacame rigid, even more still than he had been before.

He knew that voice.

Bringing his aching arms around front, and rubbing his chafed wrists, Dath turned his head to look at his rescuer, but caught only a glimpse of moving shadow as Haeil stepped behind Kedemar and picked the lock on his shackles too. As the chains fell away, Kedemar startled violently awake. Opened his mouth to shout, his eyes wide. Dath leaped to cover his mouth, wrapping an arm around the captain's torso and arms from behind. Held Kedemar tightly against him, hand over the young man's mouth as the lad gasp-breathed in sleep-muddled fear.

"Sh!" Dath hissed in Kedemar's ear. "Haeil is getting us out of here. Do you understand, Kedemar? Haeil is rescuing us."

Kedemar stilled, his breathing calming. Relaxed in Dath's hold, and the bounty hunter let him go. Kedemar rose to a crouch and accepted a blade from the young assassin. Haeil moved on to the other prisoners, lingering a moment beside Myra after he had freed her. He touched her cheek as she smiled up at him.

Before long all the captives were awake and free. And armed. Chains, when kept quiet on a stealthy mission like this, make formidable weapons. The freed prisoners moved toward the forest, healthy adults carrying the little ones, as all the enemy soldiers slept unaware. Or almost all.

"Whu-- hey! Escape! Escape!" Shouted a bleary-eyed Kathiran who'd just woken, probably needing to relieve himself, but saw the escapees instead.

Haeil wasn't fast enough to silence him.

The Kathiran camp woke quickly into frenzied, panicked chaos, sleep-muddled soldiers scrambling to their feet, drawing their weapons, as Haeil leaped forward, kicking the woozy soldier in the face. The Kathiran's neck snapped at he tumbled backward.

In seconds, though, the escaping prisoners were swarmed by the Kathiran soldiers. Haeil, Kedemar, and Dath fought desperately to cover their retreat, but were in danger of being overwhelmed as the soldiers surged forward.

Until Jashur entered the fray.

The huge blond man jerked two soldiers off their feet, roaring, and slammed them together. He tossed their limp bodies at the rest of the soldiers. The big man grabbed up a log from the ground and proceeded to use it as a battering ram-cum-club against the Kathirans. Not even Ulrek could stand against him. He was the first to run.

"This is for my wife!" Jashur roared, swinging his little tree. The escapees watched in awe as the Kathirans broke and scattered in terror of the angry giant. Jashur would have given chase, but Dath and Haeil grabbed his arms and the back of his tunic, hauling him back.

"Enough!" Dath grunted. Jashur turned to face him, fury smoldering in his eyes.

"Enough, Jashur!" The king commanded. "Now is not the time for vengeance! Now is a time for running!"

Dath held the giant's gaze for a moment, before turning to Haeil.

"Where to, lad?" The king asked.

"We need to get somewhere safe." Haeil replied, motioning for them to keep moving. "I told Nat I'd be back with you all."

Kedemar spun toward him.

"What did you say?" He demanded, grabbing the front of Haeil's tunic. The young captain's haunted eyes pleaded with the assassin for some hope. Any hope at all. Even as hope warred with despair and disbelief inside him.

Haeil smiled kindly at his distraught friend. Reached one hand up and gently loosed Kedemar's hand from his collar.

"Nat's not dead, Kedemar. I got to her in time. She's alright. She's alive, Kedemar. She's not dead." The young assassin said. Then he turned away and resumed the business of getting the former captives safely away.

***

Kedemar stumbled along in a daze as Haeil led the former captives through the forest. Dath grasped the captain's shoulder, steadying and guiding him along.

Nat's not dead.

Haeil's words echoed in Kedemar's mind. Relief overwhelmed the captain, rendering him listless and hardly daring to believe that Natalya was alive.

But it seemed alive she was, and he could still scarcely dare to hope.

***

It was early morning, and infant sunlight was filtering through the trunks of the pine trees, when Haeil stopped beside a jumble of tall rocks in the middle of the forest.

"Wait here." The assassin said. The fugitives sank gratefully to the ground, Kedemar included when Dath pulled him down, as Haeil disappeared behind the rocks. He returned a moment later, carrying Nat in his arms. Pale and wan, yet alive and bright-eyed, she locked eyes with Kedemar and all his breath left him. His knees nearly buckled; Dath grabbed his arm to steady him.

Haeil set Nat on her feet. Supported her as she stood upright. She smiled.

"Kedemar." Natalya said.

Her voice fell on his ears like musical rain soaking into parched ground. Believing at last that she was not just some figment of his imagination, Kedemar dashed to her and swept her into his arms, only relaxing his relief-tight hold when she gasped in pain.

"I thought you were dead." He whispered into her hair as she slipped her arms up around his neck. "I thought you were dead, thought I'd failed you. Thank the One-- thank the One..." And then his throat closed with tears and he couldn't speak again for a few minutes.

"It's alright, Kedemar." Natalya whispered to him, laying her head against his chest. Tangled her fingers in his raven-hued hair as she held him in relief.

"It's alright. I'm alright. I'm alive, and so are you." She whispered. Something wet dripped onto her hair and soaked in. Glancing up, she realized that Kedemar was silently weeping.

"I'm alright." Natalya said again, holding him tighter, ignoring her own pain.

Dath joined them. Laid his hand on Kedemar's shoulder, wrapped his other arm around Nat and Kedemar both. For a moment, the three just stood there, a family born, not of blood, but of kindness and love.

Haeil watched them, smiling, a lump in his throat. Laid his arm around Myra's shoulders when she wandered over and wrapped her arm around his waist.

The assassin's desire for a family flared within him again. He turned to Myra, wrapping his arms around her.

"Someday." He whispered into her hair.

"Hm?" She asked, looking up at him. He shook his head.

***

Dath drove the newly freed company hard to Ajalon. It was tough going on foot, without horses, especially with the wounded, of which Natalya was the worst injured. But, with Myra's help, the wounded in the company slowly healed. Kedemar and Dath took turns carrying Natalya, though she enjoyed her time with Kedemar most. They were able to talk more as he walked, speaking of the little things that came to mind, gaining an ever increasing respect for each other.

Haeil and Myra spent a lot of time in each other's company as well, holding hands and laughing as they strode along. Haeil couldn't remember a time when he had been so happy. In Myra's pure, bright presence, his inner nightmares and darkness paled and disappeared. In her arms, he didn't fear his abilities, nor the black magic that always struggled to take his mind.

Dannyl carried his little ones on his broad shoulders, or let them ride pig-a-back when their little legs became tired from walking. Margaret, his wife, grew steadily rounder, and Dannyl soon took to carrying her and relying on others in the company to bear his children in their arms or on their hips. Many were the merry, delightful hours in which Haeil and Myra laughingly toted Dannyl's little ones in their arms as they walked together.

Jashur cradled Adalyyn in his own arms, his bear-like strength seemingly indefatigable. He allowed only a select few other people to touch her, Myra and Natalya among those few. Adalyyn remained as cheerful as ever, but everyone could tell that her shattered leg pained her terribly.

But, despite the grueling pace, somehow they all found the strength each day to keep going, and no one succumbed to their wounds. It was only by the grace of the One-Who-Made-The-Stars that they made it.

***

Two weeks later, Dath halted his people a mere two hours away from the city's gates. Night was falling, dark and thick, casting inky shadows through the forest. Dath wanted to push on through the night, anxious to make it to the city at last, but Dannyl pleaded with him make camp for the night.

"We have to stop for the night, my liege." The head of spies said, his hand on the king's arm. "You've been driving us hard, but my wife is with child, and she needs to rest or the babe will be in danger."

Dath sighed, but nodded, knowing he was right. It was with worry that the king had watched Margaret for the past few days, hoping that she would be able to hang on to the child in her womb, but not daring to slow their pace.

"We will make camp here." Dath said, and the order was passed throughout the company. They all sank gratefully to the grass in the middle of a large clearing in the forest. What supplies they had were put in use for tents and a meal. Darkness fell, and the moon rose. Dath forbid fires. Set sparse sentries around their camp, not having the men to guard them comfortably.

But, despite all Dath's precautions, the little company would not be alone for long.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

***

In the morning, while camp was being struck, Myra made to go walking in the forest to stock up on her herbs. Her store of them was depleted as she had lost many of them to the Kathirans, and had also been using them to supplement her magic.

Haeil wandered up beside her, stuck a flower behind her ear, then when she turned to look at him, he looked away with feigned innocence and began whistling a cheerful tune. Myra giggled and began walking toward the treeline. He fell into step beside her.

"May I walk with you?" The assassin asked. Myra grinned.

"Of course." She replied. "Always."

They strolled together through the trees, stopping every now and then to harvest small plants. Talked of small things and great, hopes, dreams, fears.

Myra sighed, looked away through the trees. Haeil regarded her with concern, but before he could ask what was wrong, she spoke.

"I wish we could wed now, Haeil." Myra said softly. Haeil pulled her into his arms. Held her close.

"Me too." He said. "Me too."

She looked up at him and he leaned down to kiss her. But just before their lips met--

A piercing scream rang suddenly through the forest. Haeil's head snapped up and his eyes went wide.

He knew that cry. Had heard it countless times in a cell beneath a little fortress deep in the forests of Kenrath. Always as a healer had tended a certain prisoner's wounds.

"Kedemar!" Haeil breathed. He released Myra and bolted away through the forest, the healer right behind him.

***

They came upon him suddenly while he was alone, scouting the road ahead for Dath: five Kathiran soldiers and Ulrek slipping swiftly through the trees with naked blades. Kedemar whirled to face them and took Ulrek's booted foot to the gut. Winded and unable to call for help, Kedemar staggered back with the force of the blow, recovered as quickly as he was able, and drew his sword. Even then he had no time nor breath to shout for the Kathirans leaped into battle and gave him no respite.

It was a desperate dance of block, block, parry, lunge, stab, repeat. Two of the soldiers went down under Kedemar's whirling blade, their throats and chests slashed wide open. In another minute, two more of the foe had taken mortal wounds and fell back, writhing in their death throes. Kedemar dispatched a third with a stab to the heart, hearing Ulrek's blade parting the air behind him with a whistling sound. Spun to parry the blow.

And took the assassin's blade through his gut as Ulrek switched direction at the last moment.

Kedemar gasped, staggering. Shock was immediate, as searing pain flashed through him and hot, red blood spilled out from the wound over Ulrek's sword blade. The young captain's sword fell from his nerveless fingers. He closed his mouth; opened it and gasped again, trying to make sense of the pain and the terrible wound. Choked, as blood bubbled up his throat and spilled over his lips.

Kedemar was stopped cold, and Ulrek savagely ripped his blade sideways and out. Someone screamed. Dimly, Kedemar realized it was his own voice. He crumpled to his knees, sword fallen far from his limp hand. He collapsed sideways. Then, all was darkness.

***

Haeil dashed into the battle zone just as Ulrek was raising his sword to finish Kedemar off. In the blink of an eye, the young forsworn assassin had assessed the situation, had taken in the dead soldiers, his unconscious friend, and the terrible wound in the captain's gut. Haeil's stomach lurched momentarily, but he had no time for weakness.

With a terrible cry, he launched himself forward, drawing his sword. Rammed it into Ulrek's back, up through his ribcage to make the blade jut out the assassin's torso.

With a shriek of pain, Ulrek dropped his sword and collapsed to his knees. A red shadow seemed to cover Haeil's sight, and he savagely jerked his blade free. Kicked Ulrek onto the ground. The assassin fell sideways, then onto his back. Continuing his fluid movement, Haeil leaped on top of him, driving his knee into Ulrek's chest, and brutally sank his sword through the assassin's heart and into the ground beneath. Ulrek spasmed, gasped, then went still. His wide eyes stared upward, unseeing. The red shadow passed from Haeil's sight as he levered himself slowly up off of the dead assassin. The broken magic tethered to the young man's brand seethed triumphantly, and his stomach lurched again as he stared down at what he had done. But he swallowed the bile back down and turned to tend his fallen friend. Fell to his knees beside Kedemar, truly nauseous now, as Myra dashed into the clearing.

The healer was followed by Dath, Natalya, Jashur, and many others, most of whom turned away back the way they had come, sickened.

Haeil touched his friend's lifeless cheek, tears filling his eyes and spilling over. The weight of his failure smote him, threatened to break him.

Kedemar's head moved slightly, his eyelids cracking open ever so slightly.

"I'm so sorry, Kedemar. I'm so sorry." Haeil choked out, unashamed of his tears. "I was supposed to protect you; I had one job and I failed! Forgive me, Kedemar, please. I'm so sorry. Would that this were me!"

Dath's arms wrapped around Haeil from behind and the king hauled him gently to his feet. Dragged him away from his fallen battle-brother so that Myra and whatever other healers were among the Obsidian could tend the young captain.

"I'm so sorry," Haeil whispered again, unresisting.

"It's not your fault, lad." Dath rumbled.

"It is! It is." Haeil replied, showing his youth and longing for a father by turning to Dath, burying his face in the king's cloak and weeping. Dath comforted him for a moment before depositing him beneath a tree, out of the way.

***

Natalya was tending Dannyl's young son when she heard the piercing cry of pain echo off the trees to the north. In an instant, she was on her feet, shoving the little lad into the care of one of the other women before racing off in the direction from which the scream had come. The huntress was closely followed by Dath, Jashur, and a few others. Others that turned back, sickened, even as she herself was stopped cold by the sight before her.

Natalya stared, uncomprehending, at the bodies on the ground. Dead Kathiran soldiers. Dead Ulrek with a sword through his chest. Haeil kneeling beside...

No.

It couldn't be.

Kedemar-- no.

Dath's hand closed on her shoulder. He spun her around to face him. Startled her out of her shock.

"Go back to the camp." Dath growled. Nat shook her head, her mind still muddled.

"No, I--. Is that--? Is Kedemar--?"

"Go back." Dath shoved her in the direction of the camp. She stumbled forward. Paused a moment and took one last glance behind her before obeying Dath. She still could not comprehend the devastation done to that one man... her mind wouldn't let her process... it couldn't be.... Please the One, it couldn't be Kedemar.

The terrible truth of what she had seen finally clicked in her mind, and her stomach heaved. Nat fell forward onto her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Rose, wiping her mouth, and staggered on.

"What's happened?" She was asked by too many people as she stumbled into the camp.

"Kedemar's..." Her stomach lurched again. "Hurt." She finished.

Nat shook herself. Get a grip. She told herself. What are you doing? Kedemar needs you to be strong right now.

She rallied herself, pushing all disturbing images and feelings to the back of her mind.

"Kedemar's hurt," she repeated. "Bad. We need a stretcher, bandages, any medical supplies."

When all was gathered, she looked those gathered around her in the eye.

"I need some of you to come with me." She said. "But only those of you with strong stomachs. The wound is messy enough to turn even the hardest of stomachs." Faces paled and became grim around her, but five men, warriors all, took up the supplies and followed Nat back into the trees.

The men blanched when they saw the aftermath of the skirmish, but they held themselves together. Dath, kneeling beside Kedemar's body, looked up and gave Nat a thunderous scowl. He stood and strode over to her.

"I told you to go back to camp." He growled, pale and angry. Natalya met his eyes calmly.

"You did. And I obeyed. But you needed medical supplies. I can handle it, Dath." She assured him. He took a deep breath, passed his hand over his face.

"Alright." He said. He pointed at Haeil, sitting and weeping beneath a tree a little ways away.

"He needs someone." Dath said. Nat nodded. Marched over to the young assassin, muttering as she went,

"He needs Myra."

She lowered herself down beside Haeil and put her arms around him. Held him as he laid his face in her shoulder and sobbed "I'm so sorry." over and over.

As Nat rubbed his back comfortingly, as Dath would have done for her, she mused on how much she loved the assassin. Once she had been deathly afraid of him. Now, he was like an older brother to her. She missed her own brothers so terribly, and the gaining of another was bittersweet.

"It's going to be alright." Natalya murmured. Didn't believe it herself. Refused to watch the tending of the bodies. She merely crooned assurances into the ear of the grieving Haeil. Merely softly crooned the lullaby she had grown up hearing, that Dath had sung to her so many times before.

And, slowly but surely, it calmed Haeil just like it calmed her.

***

Myra entered the clearing, swept her gaze around the battlefield, then ignored the dead. She hurried over to Kedemar as Dath dragged Haeil away. Took one look at the terrible, sucking wound, and knew that it was already too late. Still, she knelt, noting the torn, rent organs that spilled with the blood over the sides of the wide-open gash. Gathered them up while infusing her hands with her healing magic. Held her composure until, with the help of three others who had some healing skill-- no magic though--, she had replaced the internal organs back where they belonged. Then Myra bolted to her feet and darted to the bushes by a tree. She heaved and retched until her stomach had nothing left in it, then heaved and gagged some more.

Myra straightened and wiped her mouth. Marched back to Kedemar and aided the other healers in sewing up the wound. Wound bandages tightly around it. Bandages that were too swiftly soaked with blood. Dath stepped close, pale and drawn. Unshed tears stood in his eyes.

"Is-- is--." He couldn't go on. Myra bowed her head, not bothering to hide tears of her own.

"It's too much." She said softly. "Beyond my strength. If I killed myself to do it, expended my magic past the limits, I might be able to..."

But Dath was already shaking his head.

"No." He said hoarsely. "I will not ask you to do that. Not even for him."

Myra lifted her head to deliver the hard truth.

"Then he will be dead by tomorrow." She said. "I cannot save him."

Dath's tears spilled over, and he turned away, his hand over his face, weeping violently.

Myra left him to his grief, wandering over to Haeil as the five warriors Nat had brought from the camp gently picked up Kedemar's body and laid him on a makeshift stretcher-- someone's cloak bound to two sturdy saplings.

Even as they gently jostled him, he did not stir. Did not cry out. His unresponsiveness only cemented Myra's verdict.

***

They bore the fallen warrior to the city, making it to Ajalon in a mere hour and a half. The city thronged about them, the crowds falling silent as they passed. Hats were removed respectfully, hands were pressed to mouths, Quiet murmurs were passed from lips to ears and out of lips again.

Dath led his company to the castle. Was welcomed by the Ruling Council and was ensconced in the Council Chamber with them not twenty minutes later, while Natalya, Myra, and Haeil bore Kedemar to the palace infirmary. There, not even the best healers could give them any hope for the young captain's recovery.

It was when the kingdom's best healers could do nothing-- and said so-- that Natalya finally believed that she was losing forever the man she was coming to love. It was at this time that she decided, resolved, vowed that she would give her own life before she just let him die. The healers could do nothing? Well, she could! It would take her life to heal that wound? Well, so be it! The prophecy could go on without her, but Kedemar-- Kedemar was Dath's heir. The next in line to the throne. The one whose offspring would ensure the kingdom's salvation.

There were other huntresses in the land, in Kenrath even. Dath could find another. Kedemar could learn to love another.

Natalya might not have had any healing magic, but she knew where she could get some. With Haeil so guilt-stricken and grieving, it was a simple matter to pick his pocket and steal the mage-token Myra had given him. It was a harder matter to wait until the cover of night when the infirmary was quiet and dark, and empty except for the patients staying there. Nat volunteered to stay with Kedemar until the morning, and the others, even Dath, let her and left her alone.

She supposed they thought she was dealing with her grief in her own way, and she didn't bat an eye at deceiving them in that.

Nat leaned over Kedemar's bed and took a liberty she wasn't yet sure her heart could take. Meant it all the way, though. She kissed him on his brow, smoothing his sweat-soaked black hair away from his face. Her gaze blurred with tears as she looked down at him and wondered when her heart had begun to heal from Jonin's betrayal. And now her heart was about to be rent into a million pieces once more, if she did nothing.

Kedemar's eyes cracked open slightly. Focused on her.

"Natalya..." He whispered.

And that one word broke her heart even as it hardened her resolve.

"I'm here." She answered softly. But he had already slipped back into that dark realm that threatened to claim him forever.

Natalya clenched her jaw.

Whatever it takes.

She was going to save Kedemar, and no one was going to stop her.

Please the One, let this work. Please.

***

Glimpses of the world outside the darkness came to him: Ulrek's death cry, and the topple of his body onto the ground alongside his own... Haeil leaning over him, guilt-stricken, tearfully whispering,

"I'm so sorry, Kedemar. I'm so sorry."...

Myra and what few other healers they had tending to him... Myra vomiting into the bushes... Dath turning away, his hand over his face, shoulders convulsing... A rocking motion, the sky and then the massive arch how the gates of Ajalon overhead... A soft, cool hand in his and a feather-light kiss on his brow.

"Natalya..." He whispered, and that was all the strength he had before the darkness claimed him again.

Then he woke in the darkness of an infirmary at night, in pain but lucid and in full knowledge of his situation.

A shadow of a petite woman was leaning over him, one hand pressed over her abdomen. In her other hand something metallic and round glinted in the moonlight that filtered in through the infirmary's glazed windows.

"Nat." Kedemar whispered, and shifted his head toward her.

"I'm dying." He said. She nodded in sorrowful agreement.

"But I'm going to heal you." She replied softly, her hand clenched around Haeil's mage-token. The full implication of her words took a minute to sink in, but when it did, his eyes widened.

"No!" Kedemar tried to push her away as she put out her hand. But he didn't have the strength.

Her hand touched his bandaged abdomen. The mage-token took on a silvery sheen in the moonlight, and Natalya's face drained of color. She sucked in a breath, swaying on her feet.

Excruciating pain grew like a sunrise in his wound. It quickly erupted into blinding agony. Kedemar arched his back and screamed.

Natalya panted for air as the healing drained her of life. Struggled to hold onto consciousness and finish her task. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Kedemar cried out again and again. But she didnt relent.

"Natalya!" Haeil burst into the room, Myra on his heels.

"Nat, stop!" Myra cried. "You'll die!"

She knew. She'd known before she had started this. She didn't care.

And Haeil and Myra were too far away-- across the infirmary-- to stop her as she pushed all her will, one last burst, into the mage-token.

Then her vision tunneled and blackness took her completely.

Kedemar had never known pain like this. It went on and on as his cells healed and regenerated at hyper-speed. He mentally begged Natalya to stop, but he didn't have strength or breath to speak through his screams. Then the pain reached a crescendo and merciful darkness descended on him once more.

His last sensation was Nat's body falling across his.

***

The morning sun saw another body added to the ranks of the infirmiry beds. The newcomer, a young, dark-haired woman, lay sleeping peacefully, showing no sign of waking.

But she lived. Miraculously.

"Will she be alright?" Haeil whispered, bending over Natalya's still form in the palace infirmary. Myra brushed the huntress's hair from her brow.

"I think so." She softly replied after a moment. "Kedemar owes her his life. She nearly didn't have the strength to do what she did, hurt as she already was. The wound she healed... no one should have been able to heal that. We nearly lost both of them."

"I know." Haeil answered, looking over at an unconscious Kedemar lying in another bed a few feet away. His jaw worked for a moment, then he spoke in relieved anger,

"I can't believe she stole my mage-token. I have words for her when she wakes." He fingered his recovered mage-token where it lay back in his pocket.

Myra laid her hand on his arm.

"Go easy." She said softly. "No doubt Kedemar will be angry with her as well. Both of them have been through a lot. It's a miracle they're still with us. We nearly lost the kingdom's heir and savior. Kedemar was disembowled..." Her voice broke and she couldn't go on, closing her eyes against the memories.

"Don't remind me." Haeil said tightly, gazing at his battle-brother.

It should have been him lying there. Should have been him facing death. Should have been him wielding the heating mage-token.

Instead both of his friends had risked and nearly lost their lives while he stood helplessly by.

The young assassin ground his teeth, fighting more tears. He was done with tears. There would be no more weeping, no more weakness. When the time came again for lives to be laid on the line, he would be there. It would be his life given up. Not Kedemar's. Not Natalya's. His.

His blood for their blood. His strength in place of theirs, his pain in place of theirs. His life for their lives. Always.

Even if it meant he never married Myra? A tiny, traitorous voice asked within him.

Haeil tightened his jaw and his resolve.

Even then.

***

Natalya woke before Kedemar did, disoriented and with a pounding headache. She moaned, stirring.

Myra's face leaned over her. The healer placed a cool hand on her brow and the ache cleared. Nat sat up, weak.

"Can you take some food?" Myra asked kindly. Natalya nodded and looked around as the healer quietly out of the infirmary.

Kedemar lay nearby, sleeping.

Sleeping?

Or dead?

She was supposed to be dead, yet she lived. How? Had Haeil pulled her away from the healing before she'd finished?

She couldn't remember.

"Kedemar..." Nat whispered hoarsely as Haeil slipped silently into the infirmary and strode over to lean against the wall across from her. He folded his arms as she turned pleading eyes on his quietly angry gaze.

"Is he--?" She couldn't finish. After all she had sacrificed, was it all for naught?

"He's alive." Haeil replied after a moment, a muscle in his cheek twitching. Natalya closed her eyes and sighed in relief.

"You saved his life, you foolish woman." Haeil went on, and Nat's eyes snapped open. She looked at him, tears pooling in her gaze. The assassin remained unmoved.

"Foolish, perhaps." Natalya replied softly, turning her gaze from her furious friend back to her sleeping betrothed. "Regretful of my actions? Never."

Haeil's jaw clenched, but he made no answer.

Myra returned with a tray upon which sat a bowl of thin broth and a slice of fresh bread. Natalya was too weak to properly handle the tray and utensils, so the compassionate healer spoon-fed her, with Haeil looking sternly on. Myra looked back and forth between her patient and her love all the while, grief etching her face at the estrangement between the two.

Kedemar still slept.

Nat felt sorrow as the assassin refused to speak to her. Well, she decided, she didn't regret what she'd done, even if it had cost her friends' trust. She'd earn it back someday, somehow; but now, with Kedemar safe, alive, on the mend, she didn't regret a thing.

***

Haeil and Myra were absent when Kedemar woke. He looked to Natalya, as if he had somehow known where she would be. She smiled faintly in the face of the fury smoldering in his gaze.

"Why did you save me?" The captain asked, angry. "You nearly died!"

Tears filled Nat's eyes, but she didn't back down.

"We need you, Kedemar, and I couldn't let my lo-- I couldn't let the kingdom's heir and savior die." She answered, looking away.

Grateful to be alive, Kedemar's anger abated, and his ears caught Natalya's slip of the tongue. He stilled, hardly daring to guess the last two letters of the word she'd half uttered.

"Any other reason?" He asked quietly. She hesitated.

"No." She said finally, not meeting his eyes. She fidgeted with the quilt covering her.

"Well, thank you." Replied Kedemar, turning his gaze away to the windows, wondering if he had imagined her kiss on his brow. "I do appreciate your saving my life."

Soon after, Haeil slipped back into the infirmary and was pleasantly surprised to see Kedemar awake.

"Brother," the assassin greeted him, striding to his bedside and grasping his hand. Kedemar gave a tired grin.

"Good morning, Haeil." He replied as Natalya flipped over to lay on her other side, facing away from them.

Haeil laughed, relief evident in his voice. "Afternoon, more like, Kedemar! You've slept the day away."

"A healing tends to do that to a body," Kedemar replied. Haeil sobered as he was reminded of the reason Kedemar lived. A quiet anger lit in his gaze, and his smile disappeared.

"Foolish woman." He muttered, glancing at Natalya's back.

Kedemar squeezed his hand.

"Do not judge her so harshly." He admonished his friend. "Do you really wish I were dead right now?"

Haeil shook his head mutely.

"Then let it go, Haeil. We both live, by the One's grace. Forgive, my brother." Kedemar said.

"She stole from me!" Haeil growled. "She broke trust!"

"I admit that the wrong thing done for the right reason does not make it right," Kedemar said calmly, "however, two wrongs definitely do not make a right. Whether she stole from you or not doesn't affect your need to forgive her."

Haeil was silent for a moment, his jaw working. Kedemar could almost see his mind digesting the truth of the captain's words. Then the anger in the assassin's eyes faded and and he sighed, drooping his chin to his chest.

Then he turned.

"Natalya?" He said softly. "Will you speak with me?"

She turned to face him, face expressionless, eyes wary.

"That depends on what you have to say." She replied.

Haeil nodded, dropping his gaze. He deserved that one, he knew. He lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"I will not seek to offend you," he offered, "but I will speak truth. Is that agreeable?"

She nodded. "'Tis."

Haeil took a deep breath. Ran a hand through his hair.

"Natalya," he said at last, "will you forgive me for my anger? Please? I'm truly sorry. I could try to explain myself, but explanations do not make it right. So all I can ask is forgiveness for my harshness. Nobody should be treated that way."

Nat smiled faintly. Said, "Forgiven, Haeil. But it should really be me asking for your forgiveness. I should not have stolen from you. I'm sorry. I just-- I--." Her voice broke and she ducked her head to hide her tears. Haeil moved to sit on her bedside. Wrapped her in his strong embrace.

Secure and comforted, Natalya was able to continue. "I couldn't lose anyone else." She lifted her head.

"Do you know how I lost my family?" She asked. Haeil turned sober.

"Yes." He answered. "And how you lost your adopted family. And that you lost Jonin."

Natalya turned her face away. "Well, I am done losing anymore people. I will not ever again stand by while someone I care for dies. So forgive me my foolishness, Haeil. The only thing I regret is stealing from you. Nothing else."

"I wouldn't regret it either." Haeil told her. Surprised, she looked up into his face. He gave her a lopsided smile.

"Well, it's true." He said. Gestured to Kedemar. "If it were you on your deathbed, both of us would gladly give our lives so that you could live."

Nat's face crumpled and she wiped away more flooding tears.

"Don't you ever dare do that." She said. "I have lost too much already, and if I cannot guard my heart from love completely, then I will guard those I love from death. I can't lose anyone else, Haeil."

Neither man had the heart to remind her that the prophecy called for Dath's death in the near future.

After their reconciliation, Haeil stayed and spoke for a while with the two invalids. But before much time had passed, Kedemar's eyelids drooped and Natalya yawned. Haeil stood.

"I'll leave now." He said, smiling. "Rest. Heal. I'll be back later."

Both Nat and Kedemar were sound asleep before he had closed the door of the infirmary behind himself.

***

King Mendenlau the Bloody, first of that name, sat astride his war charger, watching the torchlit columns of his vast armies marching down below. Lighting flickered over the mountains through which they marched, making the massive black horse under him stamp nervously, and Mendenlau smiled.

He was lord of the storms. They could not touch him.

He was commander of the lightning. Nothing would stand against his might.

Especially not Gibethon.

The news was spreading like wildfire throughout the peninsular kingdom: the Shadow King was real. The Shadow King was known.

And Gibethon was in turmoil. Half the people did not know what to think. The Guard was, and always would be, deathly loyal to Dathran ad Antoin.

But they did not concern the king of Kathiare. All his plans were falling into place. If the king's Guard resisted him, Mendenlau would make sure they were nothing but charred ash and the memory of weeping widows.

Medenlau threw back his head and laughed as thunder cracked across the sky.

Gibethon's king could not save them. While Mendenlau's fleet sailed to attack from the south, his terrestrial soldiers marched from the northwest to siege Fellvale Keep, the gateway into Gibethon. When Fellvale Keep fell, then the Kathirans would be free to march into Gibethon proper.

A classic, fatal pincer trap between the mountains and the sea.