The noise of the tavern swelled around the companions as the hour grew late. Dath turned from reassuring Natalya to gaze sternly at Haeil. The young assassin paled under the bounty hunter's fierce stare, but stood his ground.

“That wasn’t a betrayal.” He said quickly before Dath could speak. Dath growled,

“I could count it as one. My past is not yours to reveal.”

Haeil didn’t back down.

“They needed to know.” He said. “Better that I revealed it here, among allies, than in the heat of conflict surrounded by enemies. Now they know. Now you can rebuild that trust.”

Kedemar sighed frustratedly, dragging his fingers through his raven-hued locks.

“Trust we cannot afford to lose.” He said. “Why exactly are we here, Dath? Surely you don’t need three people to help you track down Jonin. In fact, you seem to be several steps ahead of us in that area.”

Dath hesitated, gathered his thoughts, then spoke.

“For a time now, I’ve had inklings that the time foretold by the Prophecy of Dinath Camuen was drawing near. I had suspicions that two of you were to be involved in its fruition; one of you I didn’t know about until recently.”

Dath turned his gaze from Kedemar and Natalya to Haeil as he spoke the words. Haeil’s face tightened. All three young people leaned closer to the bounty hunter as he dropped his voice conspiratorially. A twinkle entered his eyes and he smiled as he asked them,

“Do any of you know the Prophesy of Dinath Camuen? No?”

They shook their heads. Dannyl with a drink returned as Dath continued to speak, the bounty hunter's voice taking on the rich quality of a master bard.

“It’s a tale found in our oldest legends, and it goes something like this: When war comes to Gibethon, and no leader of war they have, save their Shadow King who remains unknown, then there will be risen up by a man of blood a savior, a protector, and a huntress out of the Province of Kenrath. Then will the Shadow King be revealed, and the savior honored and exalted; and the protector shall bleed for his friends. To the savior will be passed the reign of the kingdom, and Gibethon’s king will be ever after known. The savior and the huntress shall become one, and their offspring shall secure Gibethon’s salvation. “

Dath fell quiet, and for a moment there was silence. Then Dannyl stretched, drained his glass.

“Well, thanks for that, mate. I’m for home and bed.” He said. "My wife and little ones will be wondering where I am." He rose and went to the tavern door. Dath stood and followed him.

“I’ll walk you home. There’s still some things we need to discuss.” The bounty hunter said.

The two men left Kedemar and Natalya pondering Dath’s legend. Haeil stewed over the bounty hunter's words in silence.

They all, at the same time, noticed the two thugs sitting at the bar. The mercenaries were whispering together and staring at the door where Dath and Dannyl had gone. Natalya felt cold dread pool in her stomach.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about them.” She said, inclining her head in their direction. Kedemar nodded in agreement.

“Can I have a weapon?” Haeil asked, reading the strangers' lips, and thus their intent. Knew he'd need one before the night was over.

“No.” Kedemar said shortly, not looking at him.

“I’m going to need one.” Haeil said, crossing his arms, eyes on the mercenaries at the bar. Kedemar ignored him.

Haeil made to tell his companions he was able to read the strangers' lips, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, the thugs got up and exited the tavern.

The three companions rose and followed. Outside, the streets of Bethmüda were dark and empty, lit only every so often by the occasional lantern. The mercenaries had disappeared. Irrational dread welled in them all as they picked a direction and began walking. They could only guess where at Dath and Dannyl had gone.

The awful feeling that something was terribly wrong filled them until they broke into a run, pounding through the dark, quiet streets of Bethmüda.

***

Haeil, acting on instinct, broke away from them, veered into a pitch-black alleyway. Just barely avoided Kedemar's hand as the captain grasped at his sleeve.

He couldn't explain the urge he felt. Just knew that he had to make his own way to Dath, that an ambush would be needed.

***

Kedemar felt Natalya running beside him, her feet pounding with his, her breath nearly in sync with his own. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention; he saw Haeil break away from them and dart into a dark alleyway. The young captain grabbed for Haeil's sleeve, but missed. As he disappeared into the darkness, Kedemar cursed the young assassin for a traitor with breath he couldn’t spare. But the captain couldn’t go after him now. Dath was in trouble.

***

Haeil sprinted in the darkness. Behind him he heard Kedemar curse him. The captain's words tore at his heart, but he couldn’t stop. A man he’d sworn not to betray was going to die soon.

So Haeil dipped into his skills, the ones he didn’t want, the ones he feared and hated, the ones that made him dangerous.

Maybe tonight he could use them to save lives.

As he ran, his heart pounded out a mantra in time with his feet, and he knew the truth of it in his bones: I’m the protector. I’m the protector. I’m the protector.

***

Up ahead, Kedemar and Natalya heard a shout on the next street over, then the clash of steel on steel. They dug for, found, and poured a last measure of speed into their sprint. Rounding the corner, they saw exactly what they had feared: Dath and Dannyl were surrounded by fifteen mean-looking men, all armed. The thugs attacked, and Dath and Dannyl were hidden by the press of bodies. Natalya skidded to a halt, whipping her bow off of her shoulder and peppering the attackers with arrows while Kedemar drew his sword and smashed into their flank. He drove into them like a one-man battering ram, straight on through to Dath.

“Well, you got here just in time!” The bounty hunter said with a relieved grin, swiftly swiping his hand across his sweaty forehead.

“Less talking, more fighting!” Kedemar cried, whirling his blade at the oncoming foes. Natalya waded into the fray, having exhausted her current supply of arrows, using her bow-stave like a staff to deflect swords and cudgels and then finish off their owners with her dagger.

The mercenaries were falling now, but too slowly still. The companions were in danger of being overwhelmed.

Kedemar whirled, startled, as Haeil dropped swiftly over a low wall, a thin garrote wrapped around his hands. The assassin slipped the thin leather string over the head of one of the attackers. After his initial surprise, Kedemar gave Haeil a grateful nod. Didn't have time to say anything though.

But with the young assassin's timely ambush the tide of the battle began to turn. It now looked as though the comrades would prevail.

***

While Kedemar wielded his sword, and Natalya her bow and dagger, Haeil was left with a garrote, his bare hands, and whatever weapons he got off the thugs.

The world was clear and crisp around him, and a little bit slow. It always was when he fought.

He moved silently, not wishing to disturb its rhythm. He increased the pressure on the man in his hold, stuck his knee in the mercenary's back, moving with him as the man bucked and struggled and desperately sought air.

A flash of movement in his peripheral caught Haeil’s eye, and the man in his grasp slumped just as a glittering knife arched toward Haeil. Haeil ducked and rolled, first releasing the first man and giving the mercenary's neck a savage twist for good measure before loosening his garrote from around one hand and lashing it like a whip at the second attacker as the young assassin came to his feet. The thin string opened up a bleeding slice across the thug’s face. He snarled and leaped forward. Haeil caught the man's knife wrist as he drove the blade down at the assassin's seemingly unprotected chest. They grappled a moment for the knife, before the man plunged it high into the left side of Haeil’s chest.

Haeil hissed in pain, abruptly head-butting the man. Withdrew the knife from his bleeding chest and slew the attacker with his own knife. Somewhere behind him a crossbow cocked. The sound caught his attention.

Haeil whirled.

The weapon was aimed at Natalya.

No. The word echoed in his mind, unspoken.

Haeil leaped toward Nat.

The crossbow fired.

Haeil was only a second faster than the speeding crossbow quarrel. He reached Natalya, grabbed her as if in an embrace and swung her around him out of harm's way. The crossbow dart pierced his back just beneath his left shoulder blade. He jerked slightly, and the world went oddly slow and dark and light all at the same time.

He released Natalya and she stumbled away from him, still shocked and surprised. Almost in annoyance Haeil reached up behind him and snapped off the end of the dart’s shaft. He turned to face the crossbowman and strode toward him silently, the bloody, broken shaft clenched in his hand. The crossbowman was panicking, frantically trying to reload while keeping an eye on Haeil. The mercenary's courage failed and he tried to flee, but Haeil was quicker. The young assassin leaped forward and plunged the broken shaft into the thug’s throat. The man died with a gurgling scream.

Haeil let him fall and turned to face his own companions, realizing that that had been the last attacker.

Blood ran hot from his wounds, streaming down his back and chest. He swayed. Blinked. His mind went blank.

Then his body crumpled and the world went dark.

***

Time seemed to slow as Kedemar watched Haeil collapse, and he realized dimly, in a part of his mind that was detached from the whole situation, that the young assassin hadn’t hardly made a sound for the whole battle. Not even when he'd suffered wounds.

Kedemar leaped forward to try to catch Haeil as the young assassin crumpled heavily to his knees then his face. But he was too slow. Kedemar knelt beside him and flipped him onto his back. The others gathered around.

Haeil’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. Blood trickled from his nose and lip and streamed from his chest and back. It puddled on the cobblestones where it glinted darkly. Kedemar stuck two fingers in Haeil's neck. Felt for a pulse. To his relief finding one, faint but there. Dath leaned over them, worry written across his face.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“We need to get him back to the Chalice, quickly.” He said. He and Kedemar pulled Haeil upright and hefted him between them, draping his arms over their shoulders. The assassin’s head lolled as his feet dragged.

"I'm going home." Dannyl spoke, worried for his wife and children. Dath looked at him, then nodded. He wasn't in any mood to argue. The head of spies hurried off into the darkness. The four companions turned back towards the Emerald Chalice.

Natalya stalked ahead of them, as they went, bow at the ready. She watched their backs and scouted ahead, but the night’s conflict seemed to have vanished. They stumbled in the door of the Emerald Chalice, startling the barkeep and the remaining guests.

“We need a room, now!” Dath shouted at the barkeep. The bounty hunter was grateful that this particular tavern also doubled as an inn.

The surprised barkeep tossed a small bronze key at them, nodding towards the stairs in the back of the room.

"That 'un goes to room three!" He said, eyeing the two men with a third supported between them and the blood puddling on the floor.

Dath caught the key in one hand.

“We need bandages, boiling water, and whiskey, too!” Dath called as he and Kedemar dragged Haeil up the stairs.

Natalya stayed below to receive the requested items. She found her comrades in an upstairs bedroom, trying to stem the flow of blood from Haeil’s wounds. Natalya took one look at the soaked bedsheets and feared it might already be too late.

They had stripped off Haeil’s tunic and Natalya’s eyes went to the brand on his forearm. It stuck out against his too-pale skin.

Haeil was losing too much blood.

Nat shook herself out of her reverie and moved to help Kedemar and Dath.

The three quickly set to work, trying to save Haeil's life. Dath had built a fire in the bedroom's hearth; he moved toward it now. Bent and stuck the blade of his dagger in the heat of the blaze while Kedemar poured a generous amount of the strong whiskey down Haeil's throat. When the blade was red-hot, the bounty hunter withdrew it from the flames and stepped over to the bed. Kedemar pale and sweating, gently flipped Haeil onto his stomach, exposing the bleeding wound and the protruding end of the broken dart. Dath steeled himself for the task of cutting the dart head out of the young assassin. He lined up the hot blade with the dart shaft, ensuring a clean cut.

As soon as the searing heat touched his skin, Haeil screamed and thrashed, apparently not as unconscious as they had hoped. Dath quickly handed the hot knife to Natalya and aided Kedemar in holding Haeil firmly down on the bed.

"I'm sorry, lass." Dath said apologetically. "You'll have to dig it out."

Natalya turned pale and faintly green, but she nodded, and steel entered her eyes.

Dath and Kedemar held Haeil down as he screamed and thrashed, while Nat cut the dart head carefully out of the wound. The young assassin's hoarse cries rang in her ears as she poured whiskey on the wound to cleanse it.

She was grateful when Haeil fell mercifully silent and still just before she stitched the hole closed. He made not a sound as the needle tugged in and out of his flesh.

Concerned, Dath felt for a pulse, and found it. Sighed with relief. He and Kedemar flipped Haeil onto his back, and Natalya dealt with the wound in his chest.

"Lucky the scum missed his heart." Muttered Dath. Natalya washed the blood away from the wound and poured a generous amount of whiskey on it, then stitched the two-inch gash closed. Kedemar assisted her in winding bandages tightly around Haeil's torso.

Then, exhausted, they settled Haeil in the bed and set a watch as he slept peacefully. All three hoped against hope that he would recover. Even Dath hoped.

Haeil had lost a lot of blood. Maybe too much.

But if he lasted the night… he might have a chance.

***

Natalya scrubbed Haeil's sticky, congealing blood from her hands. Scenes from the fight flashed through her tired, tired mind. Exhausted tears filled her eyes. She'd almost died tonight. Hadn't though. Because of Haeil.

Haeil had turned the tide of the battle; he’d saved her life, and now he might die. A sob caught in her throat.

Her mind turned to the unconscious man upstairs. She’d been so surprised when he’d grabbed her. Haeil was lucky she hadn’t stabbed him. But he had twisted her out of the way just in time and taken an arrow for her. His face had been so calm, so expressionless, like he’d barely felt the pain. He hadn’t even made a sound when the quarrel hit him.

He’d just jerked, then snapped off the dart and went and slain the crossbowman with it.

He’d protected her, bled for her.

This turned her mind to the prophesy.

Was such a thing real? Magic was. If it was real, then…

Natalya didn’t want to think about it. She only knew that she no longer feared Haeil, even after watching him fight and kill.

After tonight she counted him as a friend.

***

Kedemar took first watch over Haeil, settling in a chair next to the bedroom's only window to watch the young assassin sleep, after tending to his own minor wounds. Kedemar counted each breath that caused Haeil’s ribs to rise and fall, dreading the moment he would cease to breathe altogether. The young captain realized that he had begun to count the assassin as a friend, and he regretted doubting him earlier.

Haeil had saved Natalya. He’d saved all of them, really.

Did this mean he was the savior or the protector?

Kedemar almost wanted to scoff. Surely the prophesy wasn’t real!

But Dath seemed to believe it was, and Kedemar respected that man over any other.

And if the prophesy was real, what did that make Kedemar?

He shifted in the chair, felt wet phantom sensations against his skin where Haeil’s blood had soaked his other tunic. There had been so much of it, maybe too much of it, dark red and warm and wet. How much blood loss could one man survive?

Kedemar tried to shove his thoughts away from their dark place. Didn’t want to think about any of that right now.

Not the prophesy, not Haeil’s condition, not the attack.

And yet, here in the dark, there was nothing to do but think.

***

Downstairs in the tavern’s main room, Dath sat in a chair, staring moodily into the flames of a merry fire that was cracking in the hearth. His superficial cuts and bruises were patched up and now he was brooding over the night’s events.

Everyone left him alone; Natalya was washing up, Kedemar was watching over Haeil, and Haeil was, of course, sleeping. Dannyl had left for home immediately after the battle, worried for his wife and children. Dath couldn’t blame him.

But something didn’t sit right with Dath. He began to suspect that the murderer Jonin was the least of his worries.

Things weren’t adding up, and he kept hearing obscure rumors…

The presence of so many Kathiran soldiers in Gibethon where they didn’t belong, the attacks, Gavin’s interest in Kedemar…

Something didn’t make sense.

Dath knew now that he could trust Haeil, but he didn’t think the assassin could give him what he was seeking. Dath needed more information. And a healer. Dath's trust had come at too great a cost for the young assassin.

He stood abruptly and strode out of the tavern.

***

Kedemar dozed lightly in the chair by the window. A slight sound caught his attention, and he lifted his head, wondering what it was. For a moment he feared that Haeil had ceased breathing.

But no. He was still alive.

But his breathing had changed.

Kedemar stood and padded over to the bed. Haeil’s eyes were open. Kedemar knelt beside him, feeling his forehead for fever. But Haeil’s skin was cool.

“Kedemar.” Haeil whispered, and that was all he seemed to have strength for.

“Haeil, I— I’m sorry I doubted you.” Kedemar spoke softly. Haeil lifted a hand weakly.

“Don’t. I know— what it— looked like. I’d have— doubted me too.” He gasped out quietly.

“Hush,” said Kedemar gently. “You don’t have the strength for this.”

Haeil stirred. “We won?”

Kedemar nodded.

“We did. You killed the last man yourself.” He replied. Haeil squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away.

“Stars, I hate killing.” He groaned, growing weakly agitated. “I hate what it— does to me.”

“Easy,” soothed Kedemar, fearing too much movement on Haeil's part.

The assassin stilled. Then,

“I’m the protector.” Haeil whispered. And Kedemar froze.

The captain opened his mouth to speak, his muddled mind fishing for words, but just then Natalya slipped in to the room.

“It’s my watch.” She whispered. Grateful not to have to make an answer to the assassin, Kedemar turned.

“Dath?” He asked, wondering where the bounty hunter was and if Nat had slept yet.

Natalya shook her head.

“I can’t find him.” She replied. “Go get some rest. You need it."

She peered past him at the bed.

“Is he awake?” She whispered, hope and sorrow competing for her face. Kedemar turned back around.

“Well, he was." He answered. "Lucid too.”

Natalya dared to give a hopeful smile.

“Go.” She urged Kedemar. “Sleep.”

He went, gratefully, almost asleep on his feet. Natalya settled in Kedemar’s vacant chair, her eyes on Haeil’s still face.

She hadn’t slept at all yet. Her thoughts still whirled in her mind.

If the prophesy is real, she wondered, which of the three spoken of is Haeil?

***

Natalya woke with a start as a weary Dath strode into the room, boots tapping on the wooden floor, a man dressed as a healer in tow. Her neck was sore from being bent in sleep, and her back hurt from the hardness of the chair.

“Hush.” She admonished Dath, shooting a glance at Haeil. But the young assassin didn’t stir.

Dath paced, tangling his fingers in his hair. “It’s worse than I thought, lass.” He said, looking haggard. Natalya didn’t think he’d slept.

Kedemar stepped into the room, tugging on a tunic. “What is?” He asked. “What’s happening? Where were you?”

Dath stopped pacing. “War.” He whispered hoarsely, not even heeding the captain's third question. Kedemar’s and Natalya’s eyes widened. Both sucked in a sharp breath.

“Who comes against us?” Kedemar asked.

“Kathiare.” Was Dath’s answer. “Mendenlau sends his fleet against us from the south and his legions from the northwest.”

“We’re trapped.” Natalya breathed, horrified.

Gibethon was a peninsula with seas to the south, east, and northeast. The kingdoms to the north were under tenuous treaties with Gibethon. But if they joined Kathiare in her assault against Gibethon, then the peninsula kingdom would be wiped out. They would have no chance.

Kedemar paled as the full implications of Dath's news struck him.

The little man with the healer’s satchel coughed politely, and Natalya's eyes darted to him.

“Who’s he?” She asked. Dath swung around as if he’d forgotten he’d brought the man.

“This is Benn, a well-known healer. He’s to tend Haeil.” He said. Benn slipped past him and quietly started taking bandages, small jars of salve, and tincture vials from his satchel. He placed them on a small table that was in the room. Then Benn stepped toward the sleeping Haeil.

Kedemar put out a hand, stopping the little healer in his tracks.

“No.” The young captain said. “We can’t trust this man. Someone in this city wants us dead, Dath. We shouldn't even have discussed the war with him present. If this Benn is well-known, then…” He gestured to the vials and jars. “Any one of these could be poison.”

“He’s right.” Natalya agreed, her eyes widening. Dath opened his mouth, closed it. Sighed and smiled tiredly.

“I know he’s right. Good thinking, lad. What do we do, then?” He acquiesced, his thought process showing just how little he'd slept. Which is to say, not at all.

The healer shrank back under Kedemar’s fierce stare.

“He could lie to us and we wouldn’t know it.” The captain mused. “There’s only one person in this room who could tell us the truth.”

He turned towards Haeil. Kedemar leaned down and laid a hand on Haeil’s shoulder.

“Wake up, Haeil. We need you.” He said softly. Haeil didn’t stir. The captain's heart hitched in his chest.

But no. Haeil was breathing.

“Wake up!” Kedemar said again, patting the assassin’s cheek. Haeil’s eyes slowly opened and he blinked up at Kedemar, disoriented.

“A healer’s here to see you, but we can’t trust him not to poison you.” Kedemar explained. “We need you to tell us what’s safe and what isn’t.”

“What makes you think I’d know?” Haeil slurred sleepily. His eyes drifted shut. Kedemar gave him a gentle slap.

“Stay with me! Because you’re an assassin, Haeil. You know poisons.” The captain said.

Haeil woke more fully.

“Ex-assassin.” He corrected. He eyed the healer.

“I need him to sit up.” Benn said, all business. But Natalya noticed sweat trickling down his temple and into his collar. Her hand slid unobtrusively to the hilt of her dagger.

Kedemar gently levered Haeil upright, the young assassin wincing, gasping, and gritting his teeth all the while. Natalya stuffed some pillows behind him. He leaned back with a sigh.

The healer edged toward the door. Dath's hand closed around his collar.

"Nope!" The bounty hunter said. "You're not going anywhere!"

The little healer cringed, but he had no choice. One by one, Benn brought the vials and jars over to the bed for Haeil’s inspection. Only three out of the seven vials and one of the salves were not intended for harm.

Kedemar glared at Benn.

Benn backed away until his back hit the wall, his hands raised, open, and empty.

"It's not my fault, I swear!" He peeped. "I didn't know you were going to check them! I was just paid to kill him! Please don't hurt me!" He pleaded.

Kedemar lunged forward, grabbed the healer's collar in both hands, and slammed him against the wall.

"Who paid you?" The captain growled. "And don't you dare lie! I've had a very trying night, and I don't think you want my temper to snap."

In the background, Natalya raised an eyebrow, half-way amused. Shielded anger smoldered in her eyes as she watched Kedemar and Benn. Dath just sighed, dropped into the chair, and flopped a hand over his eyes, ignoring the whole mess, content to let Kedemar deal with it.

"A man named Ulrek!" Squeaked Benn. "He said a man named Dath would be by to see me and he paid me twenty silver coins to finish the job of killing the man wounded last night! That's all I know! I swear!"

Kedemar dropped him to the floor in disgust.

"I believe that's a violation of your healer's oath." He growled. "No backbone for standing up for the right thing. Pathetic." He looked up at his companions. "Benn is just a fall guy. This Ulrek sent him to us, knowing that we would find him out. I'm guessing Ulrek is hoping we'll exact revenge by killing Benn. If we do, no doubt the authorities or Ulrek's men, or both will be upon us in minutes. We're being watched."

"No doubt." Dath agreed from beneath his hand.

Kedemar turned toward the window. Looked at the world outside. Raked his hand through his raven-hued hair, thinking hard and fast.

"You know what," He said after a moment. "Just kill Haeil. I don't care. I don't have time for this. We're all in danger, and he's nothing but a liability, wounded like he is."

Dath sat bolt upright, both he and Natalya shocked speechless, their mouths perfect 'o's. Benn looked up, surprised, and not a little worried. A lot worried.

Haeil had gone white from anger, betrayal, or fear. Or bloodloss. It could have been any of those, really.

But he stayed silent as he watched Kedemar stride to the table and rifle through the healer's bag. The captain took a piece of paper, an inkwell, and a quill, and began writing busily. After a moment he passed the paper to Haeil.

I don't know where they are, but I think they can see us and read our lips. It seems like the sort of thing they would do. Somehow they seem to have known who we are and our movements. Remember the mercenaries from last night. We have to be careful what we say. Assume they can do as I've described, and mislead them. Pass this note along to our companions.

That was what the note said. Haeil raised his eyebrows as he read it, before passing the note to Natalya.

"So you see, Haeil," Kedemar said aloud, "why we can't let you live. We can't take you with us when we flee, and we can't leave you behind to give us away."

Natalya passed the note to Dath.

Haeil's face twisted in anger.

"I thought you were my friend!" He shouted with all the strength he could muster. Kedemar raised an eyebrow cooly. He picked up a vial of clear liquid from the table.

"That was the point." He paused, considering the tiny bottle in his hand. "This poison's untraceable, right? All I have to do is make it look like you died of your wounds in the night. My companions won't interfere if they value their lives."

"Threats?" Dath asked, standing, but making no move toward the young captain.

"This is how you treat me after I saved your life?" Haeil cried. Kedemar didn't answer.

Benn watched it all from his place by the wall. He didn't know if he should flee or stay. Dath or Kedemar might kill him if he fled. But staying seemed dangerous too.

Kedemar scrawled something on another piece of paper, stalking over to Haeil and pressing the vial and note into his hand. Haeil glanced at the note. A smiling face winked up at him. Kedemar leaned close, miming forcing a draught down the assassin's throat, and whispered one word into Haeil's ear.

"Die."

Haeil pretended to fight him for a moment, then closed his eyes, shuddered, and fell limp.

Kedemar straightened and strolled to the window. He surveyed the streets below and the buildings across. Then he abruptly drew the curtains across the pane.

"We need a mage." He said, turning with a tired, but triumphant, smile.