The rain was oddly chilly for an autumn night. A few citizens hustled down the cobblestone road anxious to get home and out of the rain. Most were staying in their houses tonight, they knew something was going on. The city was on high alert.

A platoon of soldiers in full armor clanked purposefully down the broad street. The few citizens they passed shrank against the wall as the soldiers marched by, trying to make themselves look as small and unobtrusive as possible.

Kýron pulled his hood lower over his face and sunk deeper into the gutter that he sat in as the soldiers came closer. He silently held out his begging cup to them and was roundly ignored as they marched by.

That’s it, guys, just ignore me. Just another poor beggar on the street. A dirty, smelly, wretch who reminds you of your own vulnerability. You don’t want to see me so you’ll just ignore me…

However, the soldiers didn’t go far. “You there!” An officer called imperiously at a passing old woman in a tattered dress.

The woman turned pale, “I wasn’t doing nothing, sir! Honest!”

“Come here, immediately,” The officer demanded.

The woman swallowed hard and approached the officer.

The officer pulled out a piece of paper, “We are hunting for a demon disguised as a human.”

The woman’s face turned even paler. “Whatever it is, I had nothing to do with it!”

“Have you seen a young man with pale hair and green eyes? He wields powerful dark magic. We believe him to be elf-touched,” The officer said ominously.

The woman looked horrified but she shook her head.

The officer snorted, “Away with you, you filth!”

The woman didn’t need to be urged twice and she fled quickly.

The officer continued to lead his troops down the broad street.

OK. Well, that description is accurate as far it goes but it’s also pretty vague. At least that suggests that the description was gathered from people who just happened to be present when I… lost control. It also suggests that Tatra and Rebekah haven’t run off to tell the local authorities anything. Maybe they don’t hate me. I mean, they might be afraid of me now but maybe they’re still grateful for the medicine I made for little Aria’s pneumonia.

Either that or they’re just worried that they’d be blamed for what I did if they confessed that I was staying with them…

I hope they don’t hate me. I’d like to leave at least one good thought in this kingdom. Not that I’ll ever be back this way to find out.

I’ve been here for less than two weeks and I’m already being chased out. That must be a new record even for me.

Kýron let his mind run over his situation, chasing down options. Alright, the authorities apparently don’t know how I’m dressed which is a plus. They also apparently don’t really know what I look like. ‘Young man’ is a hopelessly vague description and it doesn’t tell them if they’re looking for someone who’s fourteen or in his early twenties. Then again, maybe no one could decide how old I am. People keep telling me that I still look like barely more than a kid.

Kýron’s arm throbbed with pain. He grabbed it and bit his lip, trying not to cry out. Kýron’s arms and legs were completely covered in bandages beneath his gray overcoat.

Well, at least the sores and lesions produced by my latest… temper-tantrum have stopped bleeding. That makes them easier to hide but they still itch and burn like fire!

It’ll be days before they stop throbbing and that’s if I’m lucky!

More soldiers marched by and Kýron pulled his hood down over his face as far as he could. The city of Minaan was on high alert. Soldiers everywhere were hunting down “the foul sorcerer.” The citizens probably didn’t know what was going on but they sensed that the soldiers were on edge and they knew to keep well out of their way.

Kýron’s stomach clenched and he struggled through a dry heave, barely avoiding vomiting into the street. Every muscle in his body felt ready to rip apart and he burned with a low-grade feverish.

Gods. I feel terrible. There’s nothing I’d like better than to collapse in a back-alley somewhere and wait for my torn up body to slowly knit itself back together. Unfortunately, I’m not going to get the chance. I’m in no condition for another fight if the soldiers find me and, given enough time, they’ll proceed to do exactly that.

I need to get out of this town quickly: tonight.

Kýron glanced at the city gate down the road where a huge line of covered wagons were backed up as soldiers tried to screen everyone leaving the city. The merchants and travelers were all grumbling loudly.

They’ll be closing the city gate soon. I watched them try to close it for the night an hour ago but that line of people, being told that they’d have to stay here another day after waiting in line for hours, threatened to touch off a riot. The soldiers decided to keep the gate open after sunset and keep screening people for exit.

Kýron drummed his fingers against his thighs, fighting for calm.

OK, take a deep breath. Panicking won’t help anything but I’m running out of time. They’ll be closing the gate before too much longer and if I need to hide out in town for the night, my odds of survival go from poor to bleak. Minaan is a large walled city but not large enough to have many hiding places that will resist a determined search by an army. Besides, most of the hiding places that I do know around here are associated with Tatra. I can’t use any of them. Hiding in one of those places would either put Tatra’s family in danger or risk Tatra rating me out himself.

Kýron shook his head mournfully. How did I make such a pig’s breakfast out of things AGAIN?

Knock it off! You need to focus on the immediate problem of getting out of the city. I’m not completely out of ideas yet. There are just a few guards at the gate. Using the magic to break through is always a possibility-

As soon as he thought this, Kýron retched and the muscles in his stomach felt taunt enough to rip. His body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together inside out.

Kýron forced back the dry heave. OK. So apparently using more magic tonight is not an option…

Kýron took a deep breath. You may get an opportunity to escape. He told himself dispassionately. If you don’t, you don’t but if you do get a chance, you need to be thinking clearly enough to take advantage of it.

Kýron glanced at a group of monks of some sort who were waiting at the rear of the departing line. One of whom slipped off to go relieve himself in an alley.

Kýron actually considered mugging the man for his robe and trying to hide among the monks, but only for a moment.

That always works in the bards’ tales. Kýron thought ruefully. Smack a man in the back of the head and he goes down quietly for hours and then wakes up with no long term health effects.

Kýron actually chuckled. Wouldn’t that make my life easier? Take it from a doctor, lives are a whole lot more fragile than that. If I want to take that monk’s robe, there’ll be a loud scuffle at the very least and I’ll probably have to kill him for it.

Kýron fingered the short sword belted at his side.

Kýron shook his head, I think I’ve already caused more than enough trouble in this town already. I don’t need to start preying on innocent people. Besides, how likely is it that I could pretend to be that monk for any amount of time without his friends catching wise to it?

Maybe if I could pick a ‘mute monk’ out of the crowd…

The rain intensified into a cold, driving sheet of water. The long line of travelers waiting at the gate raised a low moan of protest that Kýron could hear a hundred yards away.

Kýron pulled his hood lower, shivering against the chill. His head swam with nausea. This weather is certainly unpleasant but anything that reduces visibility will work in my favor.

Kýron studied the traffic jam of wagons again. One of the wagons near the back of the line had what looked like a pair of old, rusty iron rings under its frame. Kýron guessed that this ‘wagon’ frame had originally started life as something else then been repurposed and had a set of wheels bolted on.

Thinking back on it, I don’t think I remember any soldiers searching under the wagons. This is probably my best chance. The rain is making everyone irritable and it makes it much harder to see. The soldiers are probably going to just go through the motions of a through search. If worse comes to worst and someone spots me, I’ll be in a huge crowd civilians who have been trained to be terrified of dark magic in general and of me in particular. They’ll run away from me and toward the soldiers which should obstruct pursuit and throw the guards into confusion. I should have at least a decent chance of escaping into the forest outside of town if I can get a reasonable head start.

It’s a lousy plan but it’s all I can come up with.

Kýron looked around and made sure no one was watching him. Yeah, everyone is ignoring me. Nobody looks a beggar in the eye. People deliberately try to avoid looking at beggars. That’s why it’s usually the best cover…

Kýron slipped up to the wagon that waited in line and crouched underneath it. Luckily, Kýron was short enough that he could almost walk under the large wagon as long as bent his knees and doubled over.

Kýron quickly tested the rusty rings in the wagon frame and discovered that they would hold his weight although the wagon creaked alarmingly when he did so.

Kýron didn’t try to hide up there just yet. As long as I stay under the middle of the wagon, someone would have to be pretty far back to see me and the heavy rain makes seeing clearly at distance unlikely. More to the point, I don’t have much muscle and my entire body is shaking with fever. For anyone else, I’d prescribe at least three days of bed rest and chicken broth.

Maybe I could write a doctor’s note excusing me from further pursuit…

Anyway, my arms can’t support my own body weight for very long. I’ll need to save it for when we’re going out through the gate.

Kýron peered ahead through the driving rain and the still thick crowd of people. More people who had been waiting by the side of the road had fallen in behind the wagon. The wagon was approaching the check point at the gate.

So far, so good.

Kýron grabbed the rusty iron ring hanging from the undercarriage with his hands and swung his feet up to grasp the other one.

Here goes nothing, Kýron thought, wondering what else he could do to improve his chances of escape. He quickly concluded there was nothing more to be done. He reached down and shifted his satchel so it didn’t drag against the ground and make suspicious tracks in the soft mud.

The wagon stopped at the gate and Kýron watched the soldier’s feet walk around the wagon and rummage in the back for a few moments.

“That’ll be a silver noble to leave the city,” A soldier said officiously.

“A silver noble?! Are you mad? I need to pay to both enter the city and to leave the city? Plus you keep me waiting here for five hours? I’m not paying anything more than 3 coppers to get out of this sodding town!”

Oh, for the love of the Lady! Kýron groaned. Do you really think you’re going to talk this soldier into dropping the price just for you?! Is there anyone in this cursed town in a mood to make exceptions tonight?! Just pay the man! My arms feel like they’re about to fall off!

Luckily, the miserly teamster’s words brought shouts of protest from the people waiting behind him and he grudgingly handed over the money.

The soldiers walked behind him to check the next group.

The oxen drawn wagon trundled out of the city gate.

Kýron heaved a sigh of relief. His arms were screaming at him but he didn’t dare let go yet. There was a large crowd of merchants and travelers behind him on foot. If he dropped down now he might be spotted. Kýron spotted a nearby hill just up the road and resolved to drop down once they crested it. Even if he was spotted by then he should have ample time to disappear into the surrounding woods.

Kýron heard an ominous cracking sound from above.

Kýron closed his eyes. “Oh no…” He sighed.

A moment later the first iron ring fell out of the wagon frame and dumped Kýron squarely in the mud.

“Wait what’s that?” A traveler behind the wagon asked as the foot traffic built up in the city gateway behind the prostrate Kýron.

Kýron’s mind whirled as he rolled out from under the wagon and yanked down his hood. OK! I need to channel everyone’s thinking in one specific direction!

“It’s the demon!” Kýron screamed, doing a passable imitation of a frightened little girl.

The crowd drew back gasping at Kýron in horror.

Kýron drew himself up, pulling his hood low over his face attempting to look intimidating, like a powerful and wicked sorcerer. He frantically hoped nobody noticed the sizable coating of mud on his back or the fact that he was clearly the shortest person here.

“Foolish sinners!” Kýron thundered, making his voice sound much deeper than normal. “I sentence you to cast your screams against these weeping heavens! Behold the power of the Nameless Void! Shammash alaru nictat!” He proclaimed, making up nonsense words on the spot as the gate guards grabbed their weapons and rushed toward him.

The dense crowd of travelers recoiled from Kýron, their eyes growing huge. Then the travelers stampeded right into the faces of the charging soldiers, knocking several down and encumbering the rest with a flood of terrified bodies.

Kýron took off running. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tubby teamster from the wagon running off in the opposite direction, bleating incoherently about the end of the world. Kýron didn’t even consider taking the oxen-drawn wagon. He could walk faster than that.

Kýron reached the wood’s edge and plunged down a dirt trail through the dense trees. He knew that he was leaving clear footprints in the soft mud but it couldn’t be helped. Far behind him, but not nearly far enough, he could hear that the soldiers had disentangled themselves from the travelers and were in hot pursuit. Unfortunately Kýron recalled that these guards hadn’t been in full armor otherwise he could have simply outrun them.

Kýron keep running full tilt. He needed to put more distance between him and the guards before he could try and lose them.

Running down the forest trail, Kýron saw a large shallow pool of mud in the path and leaped over it. He didn’t quite clear the pool but he landed well and skated across the soft mud for a moment before resuming his sprint. Just ahead, Kýron saw what he was looking for: the path turned from dirt and mud to grass.

The soldiers might patrol these forests from time to time, but they were undoubtedly city folk, not rangers. Even then, humans who could read tracks in wet springy grass were few and far between. Now that he was no longer leaving obvious tracks, Kýron began to plan his escape.

Kýron’s breath burned in his lungs. I can’t… run much further! Kýron didn’t have great stamina under the best of circumstances and his recent illness brought on by the magic was just making it worse. He had to find a hiding place soon or he’d simply collapse.

Behind him, Kýron heard startled yells and a crash. I guess the soldiers weren’t smart enough to avoid that mud puddle. It sounds like someone’s slipped and spun out in the mud. That’ll buy me a little bit of distance as the soldiers slow down.

Kýron’s eyes darted up and down the grassy trail as he ran. He wasn’t leaving tracks anymore but he needed to find a place he could get off the trail without leaving a trail by causing obvious damage to the surrounding foliage.

Kýron spotted a small boulder just off the trail and made for it at full speed. He vaulted onto and then over the stone without disturbing the surrounding brush. In midair, he found a spot of luck: a beach tree with widely spaced, easily climbable branches and a dense cover of leaves. Kýron managed to scramble up the wet and slippery tree to find a perch in its branches.

He hid in the upper branches, panting for breath and shivering as a few moments later, the group of soldiers thundered past without looking toward him. He was safe.

For now.

----------------------------------------

Kýron sat in the branches, waiting for his lungs to stop burning. I can’t stay here for long but right now, I’m just too freaking tired to move…

OK, stop and think. What happens now?

Well… I’m not sure if the local authorities are going to order a major search of this forest. On my map, it looks like a vast trackless wood and combing the forest for a single ‘wicked sorcerer’ might be too expensive a proposition for the kingdom. Maybe now that the ‘evil one’ is known to have left the city, the authorities will just stop caring.

Well, that would be lucky but I don’t get lucky very often. I need to get out of the area quickly.

Kýron took a deep breath and considered his options. He still heard the soldiers crashing around the wood in confusion, which meant they were still too close for comfort.

Alright. I have some wood lore but I don’t know these woods at all. If I try to escape now, I’ll be trusting to luck that I won’t just turn a corner in the forest path and bump into a platoon. If I try to run any further, I’ll probably just collapse.

My best opportunity to escape will be when the soldiers head back to town to report that the trail went cold. After that, it will take a while to organize more pursuit before they can restart the search and I can take advantage of that lull to get a head start.

The problem is, this plan requires me to know when the soldiers leave the forest. If they know the forest better than I hope, they might emerge from the woods by another trail and, since they won’t walk by me, I won’t know about my narrow window of escape…

Kýron thought about it. Actually, that’s probably unlikely. When they realize that they lost my trail, the sensible thing to do is to return to where they lost it and try to pick it up again. That means that they should be backtracking along the same path they took into the woods and that means walking by here.

If they do choose to use another exit, then I won’t be able to hear them making all this ruckus anymore and that should be another signal for me to run.

Either way, right now I need to rest and eat some food.

Kýron reached into his satchel and pulled out some stale cheese-bread. It promised to be a long night.

----------------------------------------

Sitting in a tree at night during a cold, autumn downpour when one is already exhausted and feverish is no bargain, but Kýron sat there waiting.

After more than an hour, the soldiers trudged back along the path, with dispirited faces. They were all soaked to the skin and most of them were covered in mud. This would have been reason enough to be morose but considering the fact that they had let ‘the demon’ escape the city under their noses and then lost his trail, they could expect their superiors to hurl hard words at them and perhaps hard objects as well.

Kýron watched the soldiers pass by with their heads down. Kýron grinned at them through his shivers. Perfect. They’re not looking at anything. They’ve completely given up on finding me.

He gave them a full ten minutes to get out of earshot and then tried to climb down the tree.

Unfortunately, the combination of the chill that had settled into his limbs and the wet, slippery bark resulted in him falling out of the tree and crashing face first into a mud puddle on the forest floor.

Kýron shook his head, wiping the mud out of his eyes. “I seem to be having one of those nights,” He murmured, checking his body. He seemed to have escaped serious injury due to the fall, mostly by chance.

Kýron groggily got to his feet. His arm ached as if he had bruised the bone and his legs didn’t want to support him. He also suspected that several of his lesions had reopened but there was no time to deal with any of that.

Groaning, Kýron got back on the forest path. He made no effort to conceal his movements and in fact, did his best to disturb the surrounding brush so that if further pursuit was mounted, they would find the crumbs of bread by the tree and search here rather than further up the forest where the soldiers had already looked.

Kýron held his throbbing arm tightly against his chest. His body screamed for rest but he just kept walking down the path.

----------------------------------------

Morning came bright and clear. Kýron had walked through the forest all night, heading east away from the Minaan’s capital city and finally exiting the forest and stumbling upon the King’s highway.

Not sure how many miles I’ve walked, Kýron thought wearily. I might have spent hours walking in circles for all I know!

At least it looks like I’m a healthy distance away from the city but I’m not dumb enough to assume that means I’m safe. Nations can be terribly close-minded about who I am and what I am and I’m expecting Wanted posters for the ‘terrible demon’ to be springing up like mushrooms after a rainstorm. I need to leave the area.

Kýron tried to keep going but he was dragging his feet by now and his body let him know in no uncertain terms that he had pushed it about as hard as it could be pushed.

With a sigh, Kýron got off the road and into a small, secluded grove nearby and set his back to a tree.

His body was more than ready for sleep but Kýron wanted to do one more thing first.

He pulled a map out of his satchel. One of Kýron’s principle rules was: Whenever in new territory, acquire a map as quickly as possible.

A second rule, codified only after after experiencing great frustration, was: Don’t leave the store until the clerk tells you which way is north on the local maps.

Kýron studied the region. The Kingdom of Minaan was fairly isolated, surrounded by ocean on the north and west sides and by steep mountains to the south. If there were trails through those mountains, the map didn’t show them and Kýron suspected that at best they’d be game trails made by the mountain goats. That left the east as the only means of getting out of the kingdom, leading into a kingdom called Florin.

Kýron knew nothing at all about that place, aside from the fact that the people there had no particular reason to want to kill him. That alone made Florin sound very attractive right now.

It looked like the border was about one hundred miles east assuming the map was accurate. That was probably about five days of walking, assuming no mishaps.

Reaching into his satchel, Kýron pulled out a small object like a pocket watch. His most precious treasure: the Traveler’s Amulet. He clicked the button on the top and the amulet’s face split open like flower petals. Inside, the amulet looked much like a compass but with six needles that each only had one arm. The amulet’s face glowed a faint blue, bathing Kýron’s face in lambent light. The needles were still but a small, flat ring of symbols set around the amulet’s face spun slowly in a circle around the rim. They spun slowly because the nearest doorway was far away.

Kýron waved the amulet around for a moment and watched the needles move just to ensure it was reading accurately. While Kýron wasn’t ready to leave this land yet, he wanted to know where the doorway ultimately was.

I’ve found nothing here so far. Not a trace of where they went. I’ll have to just keep going in the same direction on faith for now. If the trail goes cold, I’ll need to backtrack and try to find more clues. That’s always a nightmare. Most places aren’t too happy to see me again.

Kýron frowned at the amulet. Assuming the trail continued in the same direction, then he’d want to reach a gateway that lay to the far east. It was unclear if that was in Florin or not but at least he was headed in the right direction.

Kýron slipped his map and amulet back into his satchel and indulged in some much needed restorative sleep.

----------------------------------------

Hours later, Kýron snapped awake, mentally cursing himself. The sun was setting in the west and Kýron had slept in an open clearing all day without a care in the world.

His stomach rumbled. Kýron rummaged in his satchel but found nothing to eat except a few crumbs of bread, unless he’d like to eat his own medicinal herbs. Kýron actually took a moment to contemplate which herbs he could eat any amount of without getting violently sick before deciding it was a bad idea.

This is bad. I usually travel lean but this time I’m very poorly supplied. I wasn’t ready to leave the capitol and I didn’t have time to stock up on provisions. I don’t have any food at all and I’m facing a journey of at least five days to get out of the kingdom.

Kýron could live off the land if he needed to, but it was never a pleasant prospect, especially after the frantic few days he’d had. His body ached. It needed provisions to finish healing all the damage that Kýron had already done to it.

Kýron quickly unwrapped his bandaged fingers and arms and inspected them. As they usually did, the wounds inflicted by his use of the magic were steadily healing. Better still, they had mended enough that, unless you knew what to look for, you’d never guess that the wounds were caused by a liaison with magic at all. The small lesions and sores that still dotted his hands and arms could have been caused by a thousand different things. The cuts would be much easier to explain than the bandages if anyone got curious.

Kýron got back on the road and started walking. He saw an inn in the distance that might be a good place to get supper. If he was lucky, there might even be a shop where he could buy some supplies.

Before Kýron approached the inn, he studied the place for several minutes. The road was empty this late in the day. He could hear people in the inn and they were talking quietly.

Kýron noticed a posting board outside the inn.

He pulled his hood low over his face and, watching the road carefully to ensure he wasn’t seen, flitted across the road to the board. Kýron reviewed it carefully.

There were numerous requests for assistance of various kinds (and a few requests for wives and husbands) but what Kýron was really looking for were the Wanted postings.

He looked through them all carefully but none of them referred to him and he didn’t see any that referenced ‘dark magic’ at all.

Somewhat reassured, Kýron risked getting close enough to the inn to take a quick peek inside the open window, then stepped back into the shadows. He saw a variety of travelers but he didn’t recognize any of them from the gate yesterday.

Taking a chance, Kýron pushed his hood back and put on a broad smile. He then walked into the inn looking like a man without a care in the world, certainly not a man with anything to hide.

As expected, everyone briefly stopped what they were doing to inspect the newcomer, but no one’s gaze lingered on him for more than a second or two as they returned to their meals or conversations.

Slightly relaxed, Kýron marched up to the bar and sat down.

The bartender, a heavy-set, middle-aged woman wearing a low cut blouse turned to her new patron and immediately gave him a good-natured laugh.

“Wow! You’re barely more than a kid! What are you doing out here all alone?” She asked, folding her arms on top of the bar.

“I was about to ask you the same the question. Aren’t you too young to be tending bar?” Kýron replied with a coy smile.

The woman stared at him in shock for a moment then she and the other patrons burst out laughing.

“Oh, we have a charmer here tonight!” The bartender said, playfully snapping Kýron with a dishtowel. “I feel bad for whatever young thing catches your eye. So what’s your pleasure tonight?”

“Food would be nice for a start,” Kýron replied. “Maybe a room later, depending on how late it gets.”

“We got braised pork simmering in the kitchen. A dinner will run you five coppers,” The bartender told him. “But if you take the room then that’s eight coppers for the night and the meal’s included.”

Kýron considered it. “Just the food for right now. I need to live frugally at the moment,” He said, taking the coins out of his satchel.

“Broke?” The bartender asked sympathetically.

“Not a lot of money to spend,” Kýron admitted.

She nodded knowingly. “Been there, lad. Spent most of my life there in fact.”

Kýron chuckled. Actually the problem was that he had a considerable amount of money on him but he only had six Minaan copper pennies. If he needed to spend more money than that, he’d need to pull coins out of his satchel that no one at the inn would have ever seen before, and that would as good as scream that Kýron was from someplace very far away indeed.

“Be right back,” The bartender said and walked into the back room.

An old man sitting next to Kýron at the bar, groaned and rubbed his leg.

“Something wrong, grandfather?” Kýron asked.

“Rheumatism,” He groaned. “Why the hell are you calling me Grandfather? Are you my grandson?” The old man asked in a crotchety voice as the bartender came back out with a plate of pork.

“I dunno,” Kýron answered in a good-natured voice. “You got any secrets you feel like sharing about you and my grandma?”

The other patrons chuckled, and even the old man cracked a smile.

The bartender emerged from the kitchen with a plate of sliced meat that was swimming in gravy. “If you believe this old fool’s stories, when he was young he had every woman between here and the capital!” The bartender said with a snort as she set the plate down in front of Kýron.

“Thank you, it smells delicious,” Kýron said. “By the way, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Sophie,” The bartender said. “And you are?”

“I’m called Tatra,” Kýron lied. His own name might have been noised about by now and his own name was foreign to these lands anyway. Kýron didn’t want anything about him to stand out.

The bartender looked at him strangely.

Shit! What did I do?!

“You one of those kind, boy?” The old man asked quizzically. “You don’t look it.”

Kýron hesitated for a split second, remembering that Tatra and Rebekah had been darker skinned than the average citizen around here.

Damn. Maybe the name has a racial connotation that I didn’t know about. Too late to worry about it now. At least they don’t seem inclined to kick me out of the bar for my ostensible race.

“My mom was but folks say I take after my dad,” Kýron explained, thinking quickly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man in a mud stained traveler’s cloak enter the bar. The crowd glanced at the newcomer briefly and then lost interest as he sat down.

“Good man, trying to make an honest woman out of her,” Sophie said with approval.

“Well, she was worth the effort,” Kýron asserted, rummaging through his satchel.

No idea what we’re talking about but I’m guessing this is just the normal racial bullshit people apply to minorities.

“If she produced a boy like you kid, I’m sure she was,” Sophie replied.

“Here,” Kýron said to the old man, holding out some strips of dried bark.

The old man looked at him quizzically. “What’s this for? Some kind of weird custom from your mother’s people?” The old man asked.

“No, you old fool,” Kýron snorted. “It’s medicine. For your leg. Eat it, you’ll feel better.”

The regulars chuckled but the old man still eyed the bark dubiously. “You a doctor?”

“I am,” Kýron replied. “Just finished my apprenticeship. Looking for a city to set up shop in,” It was a standard lie that Kýron had habitually used in his travels to explain his itinerant lifestyle and his skills at healing.

“You heading west to the capital?” Sophie asked as Kýron began to dig into his food.

“Too many doctors there already. Too much competition for a young man just starting out,” Kýron replied through a mouthful of pork. He felt ravenous and couldn’t seem to eat fast enough. “I’m looking for another major city where I might have more luck.”

“Got one in mind?” Sophie asked. The old man had apparently reached a decision and began chewing on the bark, making a face at the bitter taste.

Kýron shrugged. “Not really. I’ve never been outside Minaan,” Kýron said. That might be the biggest lie of my entire life. “I figured I’d go check out the other main cities and decide where to put down my roots. Do a little traveling, see the world while I’m still young.”

The other patrons murmured in approval. They were mostly travelers themselves.

“If anyone has any suggestions, I’m all ears,” Kýron added.

“Wiz is the capital of Florin,” Mused the man in the muddy traveling cloak who had just come in. “That’s probably your closest bet. Ten maybe fifteen days from here on foot. The border crossing is a bitch though. The customs officers in Florin assume everyone crossing over from Minaan is there purely to spy on them. If you decide to head south of Florin you’ll find Calabri which is more of a city-state than a country but it’s a damn big city.”

“Bigger than the capital?” Another patron asked.

“Hell yes! Ten times bigger, fifty times bigger. You’d have to see it to believe it,” The traveler replied.

“Hm, might be worth a look,” Kýron said. He’d need to get closer before he could figure out if the next doorway was in Florin or in Calabri.

The old shook his head with a groan. “You’ve got the right idea, boy. Travel while you’re young before you get trapped in a crippled body like me,” The old man grouched. “I used to be able to walk thirty miles every single day-”

“Uphill both ways, barefoot in the freezing snow, carrying three lazy oxen on his back,” Sophie interjected in a bored voice.

“Oh, you kids these days have no respect for an old man,” He said, getting to his feet. “In my day-” He stopped talking and shook his leg with a puzzled frown.

Sophie frowned. “What’s up, old man?” Sophie asked.

“My leg!” He said in a tone of wonder. “It feels fantastic! The pain’s gone!”

Kýron took a sip of water with a pained expression on his face. Come to think of it… maybe practicing medicine here wasn’t the best idea in the world…

“Am I cured?” The old man asked Kýron in elation. The old man pranced around the room with an expression of delight on his face.

Kýron coughed. “You’re not cured, Grandpa. The condition is chronic but it can be managed. What I gave you was nothing but willow bark. It’s good for suppressing the pain and inflammation of your condition. I suggest you take a little every time the pain gets bad.”

The old man was laughing and twirling around like he was ready to dance while the other patrons looked on in awe.

Kýron rubbed his forehead. Gods! Could I have screwed up any more if I’d deliberately tried?! Even if it hasn’t happened yet, sooner of later the authorities back in Minaan are going to learn that the ‘terrible sorcerer’ had been living in the Minaan slums for the past few weeks and practicing medicine. Now if anyone comes to this inn asking folks about any doctors that they had seen on the road lately, the entire crowd will think of me! Why do I never think before I act?!

One man looked at Kýron intently. “Hey, you said you just finished your apprenticeship. Were you in the capital recently?” The traveler asked Kýron.

“I was there a while ago,” Kýron said cautiously. “Why?”

“I spoke to an old friend on the road this afternoon who said that a demon had been spotted there. A blood mage,” The traveler said in a dire voice.

The room was dead silent for a long moment.

“Bullshit!” Sophie snorted.

The man shook his head. “No, that’s what he said. He claims they found a demon living in the slums and feeding off the lives of cast off children. A full company of soldiers tried to capture him but he tore them apart with his magic. The city went on lockdown trying to hunt the demon down but he managed to escape. My friend claimed that he was there when the demon fought his way through the gate. He killed twenty men before escaping,” The traveler replied.

You could hear a pin drop in the room and then the customers started to murmur nervously to one another.

“I find that pretty hard to believe,” Kýron grumbled to the man. He shook his head. It just isn’t fucking fair. Twenty men? They say I killed twenty men?! After all the effort that I put into getting out of the city without hurting anyone? Fuck, it’s good to know that whatever crimes I fail to commit, the local rumor mill will invent for me. And let’s not forget about ‘devouring innocent children.’ That’s special!

I know that logically this is a stroke of good luck. That man accused ‘the demon’ of being a cannibal. He might just as easily known that he was working as a doctor in the slums. This is a better stroke of luck than I usually have but it still just isn’t fair.

“What happened to the demon?” The old man asked in a worried voice. “Where did it go?”

“Nobody knows apparently,” The traveler replied, sipping his mead. “The soldiers are combing the forest in force but I haven’t heard of them finding anything. If you’re traveling, be careful of the soldiers on the road. They’re on edge and they’ve got no patience for folks like us right now.”

“What else is new?” The old man grumbled, taking a drink.

Kýron sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. His day seemed to keep getting worse.

“Soldiers and a demon trying to kill each other,” The old man mused. “The only problem here is I’m not sure who to root for.”

“Don’t be stupid, old man,” Sophie snorted. “The soldiers may be thugs in armor who can’t keep their hands to themselves but I’ll take them over a blood mage any day of the week. At least the King’s bullies are still human.”

“No doubt,” The old man agreed. “I just wouldn’t mind the demon killing a few hundred soldiers before he goes down.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Another man agreed. “Long as the demon is dead before it causes any more damage,” He amended.

Maybe it’s time for me to be heading off down the road again, Kýron sighed.

The door opened and out of the corner of his eye, Kýron saw a soldier standing in the doorway. Kýron deliberately turned his face away to concentrate on his food. He belatedly wondered if this might not attract attention to him, then realized the other patrons were doing the same thing and trying not to look at the soldier.

Huh. I guess folks in these parts really don’t like the soldiers. That might help me out.

The soldier was a tall man with a short black beard. He wore plate armor and a bright red cape. Kýron suspected he was an officer of some sort. “Ms. Sophie,” The soldier said, walking over to the bar.

Sophie’s formerly lively face had gone expressionless. “Captain,” She replied in a neutral voice.

“My men will be camping across the road for the night. I need food for ten and a barrel of beer.”

“We can provide that,” She replied woodenly.

The captain flung a small pouch of coins on the bar.

“I also need ‘the special plate,’” The soldier said meaningfully.

Sophie’s face briefly twisted into something like disgust. “I’ll take care of it,” She said in revulsion.

“Quickly please,” The captain replied, turning to leave.

“Any word on the demon?” The man in the traveler’s cloak asked.

The captain jumped. “Demon?!” He asked in surprise.

“The one from the capital,” The man prodded.

The captain looked at the traveler strangely, perhaps unsure if he was being made sport of. “I haven’t been to the capital in weeks. I’ve heard nothing about any… demon.” He said. He glanced at Sophie. “I’ll want that food promptly,” He prodded her.

“Yes, sir,” Sophie said in a dull voice.

“Thank you,” The captain said, walking out of the room.

The room was dead silent for a long moment. Everyone looked dour and disgusted but it didn’t seem to be about ‘the demon.’ That was odd.

Kýron chewed his food slowly. “Perhaps I’m missing something here?” Kýron asked through a mouthful of pork.

Sophie glanced at him. “How much do you know about the king, Tatra?” She asked quietly. Kýron noticed that she was carefully watching the captain walk away through the window and ensuring that he was out of earshot before speaking.

“Haven’t had the pleasure,” Kýron murmured back. “I don’t think we move in the same social circles.”

“No pleasure about it,” Sophie snorted. “The king likes to collect noble girls.”

“Collect them?”

The mud-stained traveler made a sound of disgust. “He takes noble-born women whose families want to be shut of them. Maybe they’re misbehaved or have bad prospects for marriage or maybe the family just wants to curry favor with his Majesty,” The traveler said quietly. “Anyway, they give the girls to him to be his bride.”

“How many brides does he have?” Kýron asked.

“Only one at a time,” Sophie whispered. “He uses the girls up until he’s bored with them. Then they’re slowly tortured to death for his amusement and he starts over with a new girl. There’s a rumor the king is planning a celebration of special magnificence when he finally marries his thousandth bride,” She said with deep contempt.

Kýron dropped his fork. “That’s revolting!” Kýron gasped.

Sophie nodded. “I can think of harsher words than that, kid,” She grumbled as she went back into the kitchen.

I’ve seen a lot of shit over the years. I thought that I was pretty hard to shock but this…

Kýron coughed. “What’s that ‘special plate’ he asked for?” Kýron asked the old man.

The old man snorted. “Those girls, they know that they’re going to a fate worse than death. Give ‘em a knife and they’ll take a quicker way out. So all their food needs to be cut up for `em cause they don’t get access to anything sharp.”

Kýron stared down at his food for a long moment without seeing it. His stomach demanded he eat so Kýron forced himself to continue but for some reason the food had gone oddly flavorless.

----------------------------------------

All mirth had gone out of the room and everyone drank in silence while Sophie fussed around in the kitchen.

Kýron glanced out the window at the elaborate carriage parked across the road, and the doomed passenger who was presumably inside it.

Kýron pushed away his empty plate. Despite being ravenously hungry, cleaning his plate had been very difficult tonight.

Sophie wore a glum face as she wheeled out a cart with an enormous pile of pork on it. On the very top was a plate of pork that had been cut up into tiny, bite-sized pieces.

“Anyone want to help me bring out the food to the soldiers while I get the beer?” Sophie asked, looking resigned. “Whoever does gets a drink on the house.”

This request had no takers.

“I’ll do it,” Kýron answered before he had bothered to think the matter through properly.

“I appreciate the offer, Hun, but you’re still too young to drink,” Sophie said.

Kýron snorted. “I don’t want the drink. I need to take a leak anyway so I just figured I’d do you a favor,” Kýron said.

“You really don’t mind?” Sophie asked in surprise.

Kýron barked a humorless laugh. “I mind a whole lot about this situation but I felt like I might as well help you out.”

“You’re a good kid,” Sophie said approvingly as Kýron got behind the cart and started to trundle it out of the inn. “If they tip you anything, you can keep it.”

Kýron snorted. “Yeah, right. Like soldiers are going to tip anything.”

The old man gave a weak guffaw. “Son, I think I was three times your age before I was so wise in the ways of the world,” The old man mused. “I don’t know whether to envy you or pity you.”

Kýron chuckled as he pushed the cart out the door. The pile of food wasn’t heavy but pushing the cart still took an enormous amount of effort. Each step felt like it was more of a commitment to a course of action that Kýron tried to pretend he was still debating.

You’ll never get away with this, Kýron’s mind informed him.

He walked the cart slowly toward the soldiers’ campfire that lay just off the road. Kýron and looked around to make sure no one was watching.

This is a terrible idea. You’re really going to get yourself killed this time. It will never work. You’re just going to get the both of you killed. Kýron’s mind pointed out.

Kýron was in complete agreement with this sentiment and yet he reached into his satchel and pulled out a bag of black powder which he sprinkled liberally on the pork that wasn’t on the special plate before tucking what was left of the powder back into the satchel.

Name of the Word. I’m taking a huge risk here and it could go wrong in any one of a thousand different ways. If any of these soldiers recognize me, my odds of getting away are close to nil.

That’s not a huge concern, Another part of him argued. These soldiers are bringing a noblewoman back to the capital so it makes sense that these soldiers wouldn’t know anything about the manhunt for ‘the demon.’ At the least the captain didn’t seem to know anything about it.

Unless he was lying for some reason…

Kýron approached the firelight with the cart. Of course if things go really wrong, using the magic is always another option. My cuts still burn and itch like fire but they’re mostly on the mend. Calling on the magic again will be excruciatingly painful but it might not be crippling.

What is wrong with my life that I’m budgeting my own suffering like this?

As if the possibility of use alone had awakened it, Kýron suddenly felt the magic all around him. He felt it swirling around him, flowing around his fingers like warm smoke. It caressed him like a lover and the magic whispered to Kýron a thousand, tantalizing promises.

Promises that he knew from experience were nothing but empty lies.

Kýron took a deep breath to settle himself and the magic reluctantly settled back to dormancy.

As he approached the campfire, all the soldiers turned to face him but to his relief the soldiers were focusing much more heavily on the pork than on him. Their eyes shone with the naked greed of the very hungry.

Kýron knew the expression well.

Kýron bowed his head and put a nervous, ingratiating smile on his face. “The best food in town, served up fresh for his majesty’s fighting men!” Kýron said, raising his voice an octave, trying to sound younger.

If I’m lucky, they’ll take me for just another poor kitchen boy and put me out of mind just as quickly.

Kýron’s eyes scanned the camp quickly.

Their gear isn’t poorly maintained exactly but I did notice some pitting on the armor and even on a few weapons. These men aren’t elite soldiers by any stretch of the imagination but there are more than ten of them. If it comes down to a fight, my odds are bleak even with the magic.

Kýron pushed the cart up to the soldiers’ campfire and the soldiers fell ravenously upon the food without a word.

The captain who had previously come into the bar, stood up from his seat at the fire and took the ‘special plate’ off the top of the cart. He then walked over to the elaborate carriage with it.

So the girl is still in the carriage. That’s perfect. Kýron lingered for a few moments as he watched the captain unlock the carriage and hand the food to someone inside. He then relocked the carriage, and put the key in his pocket as he returned to the campfire.

Well, that key is going to be a bitch to get. Kýron thought to himself.

The captain frowned suspiciously when he saw Kýron still standing there watching him but Kýron simply smiled and held out his hand to the captain with his palm up.

The captain’s face twisted in dismay, all suspicion instantly banished. The captain gave a melodramatically loud sigh and dropped a Minaan brass half-penny in Kýron’s palm.

“Thank you sir! Have a wonderful night!” Kýron said cheerfully, turning back to the inn as Sophie emerged from the bar, rolling a barrel of beer toward the soldiers’ camp.

Kýron’s smile fell off his face as soon as he had turned around. A brass half-penny tip for a party of ten? What a cheapskate! Kýron returned to the inn and sat down in his seat.

Kýron sat there, gazing out the window and looking the scene over. The soldiers were digging in hungrily as well as drinking their beer. The carriage was parked near the camp but still far enough away that he might be able to risk a little noise from the carriage without alerting the soldiers. The carriage had a door on each side, one of which faced the campfire and the other which faced the darkened woods.

OK, first of all, there’s no point in even trying to pick that captain’s pocket for the key. Pickpocketing isn’t one of my main talents and I’ll never get close enough to him to try anyway. I might as well march up to the camp with a length of rope in hand and politely ask the soldiers to tie themselves up.

I’ll have to hide in the bushes and try to pick the carriage lock. Lock picking isn’t one of my strengths either but I’m not completely inept and I doubt that the lock on a carriage, royal or otherwise, is anything all that impressive.

Kýron’s mind helpfully listed about ten thousand different ways that this plan could go wrong, not least of which was that the girl in the carriage could panic upon realizing someone was trying to force the door and start screaming.

Assuming that I can even get her out of that carriage, I’ll need to persuade her to follow me into the deep, dark woods in the dead of night when I have no clear plan in mind for either of us to escape after that…

Kýron was still thinking when a mug of beer plopped down in front of him. He glanced up and saw Sophie standing there.

“There’s the drink I promised,” She said firmly. “But that’s it, you’re not getting any more!”

Kýron chuckled. “Thanks, Sophie, but I think I’m actually going to get going,” Kýron replied, standing up.

“This late?” Sophie asked in surprise. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hun. There are robbers in these woods. If you don’t want to spring for the cost of a room, you can bed down in the stables till morning.”

Kýron flashed her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks, Sophie, but I’ll be fine. I know what soldiers are like after they’ve had a few and I think they’ll keep me up half the night. It’s better I just bed down in a meadow somewhere down the way.”

Sophie still looked doubtful. “Well, you’re not wrong about that,” Sophie admitted.

“Actually, you might be able to do me a favor, though,” Kýron said.

“And just what might that be?” Sophie replied.

“I’ve learned that people have a bad habit of leaving some of their stuff behind in an inn when they check out.”

Sophie laughed. “You better believe it! It’s amazing the stuff we find. It’s junk all of it but still a lot of oddities.”

“Do you have any old clothes or blankets lying around that I could rummage through? Just something to use as a pillow while I’m traveling,” Kýron asked.

Sophie shrugged. “Sure, help yourself.”

Sophie led him to an old trunk which he searched until he found three ratty old blankets.

“Take them all, if you want.” Sophie said.

Kýron grabbed them. “Thank you very much, Sophie,” He said as they walked back toward the bar.

“Well it was nice talking to you, Tatra,” Sophie said.

“You as well, kind lady.” Kýron replied. “Please accept my compliments,” He dropped his last Minaan copper piece on the counter which Sophie pocketed with pleasure. “And please accept the captain’s compliments as well,” Kýron said, letting the brass half penny fall into her hand.

Sophie sneered in disgust at the coin. “He’s such a prick!” She snorted.

“Yup,” Kýron agreed.

Sophie shook off her irritation. “Hope to see you back this way again soon, Tatra,” Sophie said, giving him a warm hug.

Kýron stepped away with a slight flush on his face. The sad thing is that I know I’ll never see her or anyone else in this land ever again. “I hope so,” Kýron lied. He turned to the barroom. “Good luck to all of you and don’t forget about the willow bark, old man!” Kýron reminded him on his way out.

Kýron slipped away from the inn. He watched the soldiers’ camp out of the corner of his eye but the soldiers didn’t even seem to notice his departure. He walked half a mile down the road before slipping into the bushes and creeping back through the undergrowth to the shadowed side of the carriage.

Pulling a metal lock-pick out of his satchel, Kýron set to work on the carriage door.

He worked at it for nearly half an hour. He was beginning to fear that it was hopeless when the lock finally popped open.

Carefully, Kýron opened the door with a faint creak that Kýron felt in his agitation could be heard for miles.

A beautiful young lady with raven black hair and ravishing blue eyes sat in the carriage. She was very pale and dressed in a frilly blue gown. The carriage held only a half eaten plate of food and a blanket which was apparently used for sleeping. The girl’s eyes were wide with fright and Kýron knew that she was perilously close to screaming for help.

Kýron raised a single finger to his lips and gestured for quiet. He stood very still after that, giving her a chance to assess him and to calm herself.

The girl caught her breath and seemed to consider him for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly, raising her own finger to her lips in an answering gesture.

Kýron extended his hand and the girl slowly took it, letting Kýron help her down from the carriage.

She opened her mouth to speak but Kýron raised his finger to his lips again and the girl nodded.

Kýron gingerly slipped into the carriage, placing the half-eaten plate of food near the other door and stuffing the ratty blankets he’d gotten from Sophie under the carriage blankets, creating a halfway decent facsimile of a sleeping body.

Kýron then stepped back and quietly closed the door.

The girl’s face begged a thousand questions but Kýron just shook his head. Now was not the time to answer them. He pointed toward the woods and taking the girl’s hand, they quietly slipped into the brush.

----------------------------------------

The two had been walking for a quarter hour. The raucous army camp had been left far behind and there were no sounds of alarm or pursuit yet.

“Can we talk now?” The girl whispered.

“As long as you can do it while walking,” Kýron replied as they marched across a meadow. “We have a long ways to go and I’ve made an awful lot of people around here angry in the past few days.”

The girl took a deep breath. “Firstly, I wanted to thank you for rescuing me. I am not insensitive to the enormous risk that you are running and I am eternally grateful for your aid in my hour of need. Might I have your name please, sir?” She said.

“I’m called Kýron. Kýron Andomniel.”

She cocked her head. “…An unusual name. I am not familiar with it.”

“I suppose I never met another one either” He replied.

Which way do we go now? I guess we just keep walking east…

“That was not precisely my meaning, sir. I’m not familiar with its source. Where are you from?” She asked.

Kýron twitched, his mind coming back to the present. Shit. I’m too tired and stressed to be thinking all that clearly right now… “That’s really not important,” He said quickly. “So, what’s your name?”

“I am Princess Melinda Fizer Wiz of Florin,” The girl answered with a slight curtsy.

Kýron glanced at her in surprise. “I’ve heard that the surrounding nobles sell their children to the King of Minaan, but a princess? What did you do to tick people off that badly?”

“I was not sold to that monster!” Melinda refuted hotly. “I was on my way from our country estate in Avon back to the palace at Wiz. However, my guards lost their way in the evening fog and by the time we caught our bearings, my guards and carriage had accidentally crossed the border into Minaan near Verna and we were surrounded by a large troop of Minaan soldiers. The captain of my guard had no choice but to hand me over to them. If I’d ordered them to resist, it would have only cost my guard their lives, so I surrendered myself to them.”

Kýron frowned at this, thinking back to his map. “How was the trip up until then?” He asked idly.

“My guards were decidedly on edge. There has been a large surge of violence in my homeland recently. A rebellious Duke seeks my father’s crown but at last the war is going well for us,” Melinda explained.

Kýron chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Did you see anything unusual while the guards were taking you home?” Kýron asked, sounding only vaguely curious.

Melinda shook her head. “They insisted that I keep the curtains drawn to avoid attracting unwanted attention. It would be perilous if anyone learned that I was traveling across the country with such a small guard. The rebellious Duke would gain significant leverage over my father if he threatened harm to my person. It was imperative that no one discovered that I was returning to the capital.”

Kýron stopped walking and stared at her for a long moment.

“What is it?” Melinda asked in confusion.

“Oh, nothing,” Kýron said calmly as he resumed walking.

“How long do you think it will take for the soldiers to be after us?” Melinda asked after a moment.

He sighed. “A while but not as long as I’d like,” Kýron replied ruefully.

“I fear it may be shorter than you hope. Those brutes check on me several times a night,” Melinda worried.

“I doubt they’ll do more than a cursory check tonight,” Kýron chuckled. “They have other matters on their minds by now. I added a bit of special seasoning to their dinner.”

“Poison?”

“No!” Kýron exclaimed, looking quite offended. “I’m a doctor, not a killer! It was buckthorn extract!”

“I’m afraid that I am not familiar-”

“It’s a powerful laxative and all those men just got one hell of a dose. The shits stops a search just as well as anything else does.”

“How colorful,” Melinda said, making a face.

“With any luck, they won’t even notice you’re gone until morning. Even then, they’ll probably be too sick to give chase but they’ll be ready to move by tomorrow evening at the absolute latest so we don’t have much time to waste,” Kýron said.

“Then we need to cross the border back into Florin as soon as possible,” Melinda said. “I’m not sure how far we are from the border.”

“It’s close to one hundred miles,” Kýron replied. “That’s a solid week of traveling for me and, honestly, you don’t move very fast.”

Melinda sighed as she gamely tried to increase her pace. “These shoes were not designed with long walks in the forest in mind,” She admitted.

“I’m just grateful that you’re not wearing heels,” Kýron said.

“When we do get to the border, we will need to find a place to cross the border where the Minaan soldiers won’t detect us. The border is a no-man’s land that is closely watched by both countries,” Melinda mused.

Kýron scratched his chin. “Assuming my map is accurate, there are only three ways out of Minaan: by ship, through the trackless southern mountains, and across the border into Florin,” Kýron replied. “If I remember correctly, the Minaan-Florin border is pinched between two mountain ranges so it’s only about thirty miles long.”

Melinda nodded. “That’s the main reason that my people have always been able to push the Minaan army back. Their army is much larger and more powerful than the forces of Florin but the narrow passage allowed us to heavily fortify the border and resist armies many times our own size.”

Kýron sighed. “My point is that the entire Minaan army has a pretty clear idea where we’re going so the idea that we’re going to find any section of that border that’s not heavily guarded seems unlikely.”

“Perhaps we could sneak across at night?” Melinda suggested.

“I’m pretty sure that they’ll be watching for us to try that. On top of that, it’s entirely possible that the Florin forces themselves might kill us without ever recognizing you if they think that we’re trying to sneak across their border,” Kýron added.

“Then what are we to do?” Melinda asked in a worried voice. “The southern mountains have no trails so far as I am aware and I’ve never heard of anyone climbing them. I suppose we could try to sneak into the capital city and charter a ship…”

Kýron snorted. “I’m going to say that sneaking into the King’s city when the King is looking for you is a very bad idea,” Kýron replied. “And even if we did get there, how much would passage on a ship cost? And while you’re at it, raise that cost about an extra two hundred percent since no captain is going to risk taking fugitives on his ship without charging them through the nose. I have some money but I doubt I could afford that.”

Melinda was silent for a long moment. “Do you have any plan at all for getting us to safety?”

Kýron made a face. “A rough one,” Kýron admitted.

“How?”

Kýron gave a cold laugh. “The same way you overcome any foe: by doing what your enemy doesn’t expect.”

----------------------------------------

Shortly after sunrise the next morning, a throughly exhausted Kýron lay on his stomach in the tall grass on a cliff that overlooked a fort that guarded a narrow pass through the surrounding mountains. Kýron had been counting the soldiers’ numbers and they had at least several dozen soldiers at hand. Worse, they appeared to have a full contingent of cavalry. This meant that outrunning the soldiers wouldn’t be an option so they’d need to sneak past the fort.

“What are you doing?” Melinda asked, walking up behind him.

Kýron swallowed a curse and grabbed her hand, pulling her down into the tall grass beside him.

“Excuse me! What are you doing?!” She protested.

“Mel, we’re trying to hide at the moment,” Kýron said through clenched teeth. “Standing on top of a cliff wearing a blue dress is a really really bad way to hide so please stay low,” He said.

Melinda thought that over for a second and then nodded.

Kýron rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There’s a lot of activity down there. Either Minaan is getting ready to attack someone or this fort has been told to contribute to hunting you down.”

Melinda’s jaw tightened as she saw a company of soldiers leave the fort on foot.

“I saw a trading post not far from here. We’ll need supplies,” Kýron said, getting to his feet and crouch-walking away from the cliff’s edge.

“Supplies?” Melinda asked, struggling to stay low while still moving in her voluminous dress.

“Yeah, I’m assuming that you would like to eat sometime today,” Kýron snickered.

Melinda’s stomach chose that exact moment to gurgle loudly, causing her to flush scarlet.

A moment later, a small strip of Melinda’s blue dress caught on a branch and tore. Melinda muttered something under her breath that Kýron guessed was distinctly unladylike.

Kýron absently picked up the strip of cloth and slipped it in his pocket. Blue clothing was vanishingly rare around here due to the high cost of the dye and anyone who found it would quickly conclude that it had come from the princess. He’d find a safe place to dispose of it later.

Once Kýron and Melinda had gone far enough from the cliff edge to be out of sight from the fort, they stood up. “OK, Mel, I should only be gone about an hour, stay in that glade over there and stay hidden.”

“Are you certain that this is wise?” Melinda asked dubiously. “That trading post you mentioned is very close to the fort and they certainly do a great deal of business with the soldiers. The merchants could be watching for us.”

“Well, they’ll certainly be watching for you but hopefully they don’t know me.”

Hopefully…

Melinda looked uncertain.

“You’re right,” Kýron conceded. “It’s a risk but we need supplies or we won’t get anywhere so we need to take that risk. I’ll be back as quick as I can. If three hours pass and I’m not back, then most likely I’m not coming back and you’ll need to get out of here and trust to your own luck to get somewhere safe,” Kýron said matter-of-fact.

Melinda’s face paled and she swallowed hard but she nodded.

Kýron reached into his satchel. “Here take this,” He said, handing her a small scalpel.

Melinda took it wordlessly.

“Just in case you need it,” Kýron said, walking away.

Melinda didn’t say a word as she held the sharp but very tiny blade.

Kýron didn’t bother to spell out to her that the impractical blade wasn’t meant for fighting wild animals or any enemies. It was just so that if the worst happened, she didn’t have to be taken alive.

----------------------------------------

Kýron walked over to the trading post just as it was opening its doors. There were no other customers visible and no soldiers. However, there was a Post board nearby which Kýron sneaked over to and examined it carefully.

Most prominent on the board was a large wanted poster describing Melinda’s escape. Whomever had posted this bounty poster had in fact posted it four times on the same board as if worried casual readers might miss it. Kýron was actually pretty impressed that they had manage to get posters up this fast. He’d only rescued Melinda last night.

“Say what you will about the Minaan authorities, they run a tight ship,” He whispered to himself.

The poster described the princess as ‘pale, young, dark haired, and last seen wearing a blue dress.’ Kýron was only slightly amused to see that the poster described her as being ‘kidnapped’ from the King’s ‘protection.’ A ten thousand gold crown reward was being offered for the Princess.

Kýron was gratified to note that the poster said nothing about anyone traveling with the princess. Either this was being held back from the public for some reason or the soldiers hadn’t put it together that he was the one who rescued her. Either way, it was good luck.

Kýron lifted up the posters regarding Melinda and looked at the older posters underneath. He did see one describing a “terrible sorcerer” but the description was so vague that Kýron wasn’t even certain that it referred to him. He noted with some disdain that the reward in that case was only a hundred crowns.

Putting the matter out of his mind, he entered the trading post with a thoughtful and pensive air, the look of a man with money to spend but not entirely sure what he wanted. He poked at a few things and just wandered the large shop, waiting.

Soon thereafter, a older man with a protruding stomach and a walrus mustache approached him. “Good afternoon, young man. My name is Geese, what brings you to my humble store?”

“My name is Alec,” Kýron said, wishing he had though to ask Melinda for a list of ‘normal’ names before he came in here. Too late now. Although, at least the shop keeper doesn’t seem taken aback by my choice of name. “I’m looking for some hunting gear.”

“Oh ho, planning an expedition?” The merchant laughed knowingly.

“Yeah. Me and my brother keep hearing from our cousins about all the game they bag in autumn near the southern mountains. We think that we’re fair hunters so we thought this year, we might give it a whirl,” Kýron said.

“Ho ho! A fellow sportsman!” The merchant laughed. “I was quite the hunter in my youth,” He said, pointing at a long line of animal heads mounting the wall overhead.

“You caught all of these?” Kýron asked, putting just the right amount of wonder into his voice.

“My brother and I bagged all of them,” The merchant said proudly. He then sighed. “I still miss him. He came out second best in an argument with a bear some years back.”

“My condolences,” Kýron said politely.

“Thank you,” The merchant replied. “So what are you in the market for?”

“A pair of tents and sleeping rolls would be nice. I don’t think our usual gear will stand up to the cold in those mountains, even if we don’t go very far up,” Kýron replied.

“Oh, that is extremely true,” The merchant agreed. “When I was about your age my brother and I climbed up old Kederas, hunting elk. In the winter, that mountain gets cold enough that the trees can literally burst from the inside out,” The merchant led Kýron over to some gear. “Now this is the good stuff! Heavy insulation, not cheap but you’re going to want the right gear when the temperature starts falling.”

“I’d rather lose a few coins than a few toes,” Kýron agreed.

“I’m going to remember that line!” The merchant laughed. “Anything else you need?”

“Got any warm clothes? Mountain boots?”

The merchant screwed his face up. “Maybe. We’re short at the moment but I’ll take a look,” He bustled off to look in back.

The merchant returned from his stock with a heavy sweater and some durable pants. “Just the one pair of clothes and no boots, sorry. Should have some more by late next week.”

“Well, if we haven’t gotten too far away maybe I’ll double back,” Kýron replied. “Could also use rations, something that will keep for a week or two.”

“Cram-biscuits. Keep forever and they don’t taste too bad neither,” The merchant replied, pointing at a stack of small biscuits on the counter.

The merchant helpfully pointed him toward a variety of things including backpacks. Kýron knew the merchant was padding the list somewhat but he said nothing to keep the merchant talking and to learn more about the area. The merchant told him any number of stories about the trails and animals in the wilds that might be useful later.

“Ok that all comes to… 2 gold crowns.” The merchant said.

Kýron reached into his satchel and took out the gold coins.

Kýron held his breath as the merchant took them with a frown, inspecting the engravings. “These are strange coins,” He said dubiously.

“My brother and I found them lying in a cave,” Kýron said, seeing no better explanation. The merchant would have certainly seen Calabri and Florin coins so Kýron couldn’t pass them off that way. “No idea where they came from but they’re solid gold.”

“Mind if I test these?” The merchant asked, taking out his scale.

“Not at all,” Kýron replied.

The merchant took a minute weighing each of the coins carefully but he raised no further objection. In fact, Kýron, who was watching the process carefully, discovered that his coins were probably heavier and purer gold than the standard Minaan crown.

“Alright, everything looks great!” The merchant said cheerfully. “Thank you for your business!”

“Have a great day, sir,” Kýron replied, gathering up his gear and heading for the door.

“Uh, boy?” The merchant called.

Kýron turned around, instantly on his guard.

“I feel like I should tell you, now that I’ve got your money,” The merchant said a bit shamefaced, “That I’m not sure if you want two tents and sleeping rolls.”

Kýron blinked. “I mean, I love my brother but we’re not really all that close.”

“You don’t understand. The cold up in those mountains is intense, especially in bad weather. If you go up beyond the tree line, sharing a roll can be the difference between life and death. If the wind kicks up, you may not be able to start a fire and you’ll need more than one person’s body heat to stay warm,” The merchant explained.

Kýron nodded slowly. “Thank you, I appreciate the advice.”

“You’ll be fine with two tents down in the hills but if you’re going up after the mountain elk, you’ll need to share a roll and strip down inside it to conserve body heat.”

Kýron’s face flushed and the merchant nodded sagely. “Aye, it’s awkward but better awkward than dead, don’t you think?”

“When you put it like that, I must concede your point,” Kýron admitted. “Thank you for your counsel, friend.”

“Good luck!” The merchant called as Kýron left the store.

----------------------------------------

Kýron was walking back down the road with his supplies when he noticed a man carrying a poster coming down the road. The man was stopping to ask questions of the few travelers he passed. No one gave him more than a cursory answer.

Kýron’s eyes narrows as he realized that this poster had a picture of Melinda, a pretty good likeness too. The man was wearing rough and disheveled clothing. He looked like an ordinary sell-sword or bounty-hunter trying to cash in but Kýron didn’t miss the fact that he was clean-shaven and that his boots were nicely polished. It was a disguise. The man represented someone in authority but who?

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Kýron slowed his walk and slid behind a tree to observe him more closely from a distance as he kept talking to passing travelers.

The man wore a short straight sword at his side.

No mercenary is going to use that weapon, especially out here in the country. It has too little reach. That kind of sword is only useful to someone who’s accustomed to fighting in tight areas like a brigand who made his living mugging folks in narrow alleys or a soldier who fights in close ranks. And muggers don’t shave regularly.

Alright. So the army has dispatched agents to patrol the road in disguise. That’s probably a shrewd move on their part. If the reaction that those bar patrons had toward the Captain last night are typical, I doubt that any of the peasantry around here would be all that willing to talk to a soldier. Information would need to be pried out of them and that wastes time.

Kýron could have simply slipped away before the man saw him but his mind whispered that maybe he could turn this to his advantage. He carefully hid all the gear he’d purchased behind some trees just off the road.

He then rubbed some mud on his face and messed up his hair doing his best to look like an ignorant peasant boy. His clothes were certainly muddy enough already. He then quickly checked the map in his satchel for a few particulars.

Kýron took a deep breath and walked down the road toward the man with the poster. Kýron’s disguise seemed to be working well as the man showed no interest in Kýron at all nor seemed inclined to question him.

“Oy!” Kýron said in a huckster accent. “People ‘re saying you want to buy information about a girl in blue?”

The man frowned down at Kýron then put on a warm smile. “Yes indeed, have you seen anyone like that?” The man had a large scar running across his throat. The man was lucky that he had lived after getting such a large cut there. Kýron filed this fact away for future reference.

“Aye. I saw a girl dressed all in blue just this morning,” Kýron said, pulling the small strip of fabric from Melinda’s dress out of his pocket.

The man quickly felt the fabric. “And where was this?” The man asked in a friendlier tone. Kýron had clearly gotten his undivided attention.

“We need to have an understanding first,” Kýron said, rubbing his fingers together. “How much would you say this information is worth?”

The man handed him the poster. Out of the corner of his eye, Kýron watched the soldier smirk as Kýron appeared to be deeply studying the poster… which he held upside down. Kýron spent an unreasonable amount of time staring at the poster with an expression of extreme concentration before finally turning it over in his hands and finding Melinda’s crude portrait on the other side. Kýron pretended to be surprised that he was holding the poster upside down and swiftly turned the poster right side up before handing it back to the man in obvious embarrassment.

“Intriguing, don’t you think?” The man asked coolly.

“Oh aye. Very interesting,” Kýron said, flushing with embarrassment. “Now how much were you fixing to pay?”

“The reward for information is 70 silver pieces. I’ll split it with you,” The man offered.

Kýron scratched his head. “And half of that would be…”

“Thirty pieces of silver,” The man said.

Kýron let his face twist into elation although he genuinely wanted to slug the man.

What a pig! He’s already trying to con a peasant out of any share of a ten thousand crown reward but that still wasn’t enough? He wants to gull me out of five silver pieces too?!

Kýron forced himself to look excited. Thirty pieces of silver were more than a month’s wages to the people he’d met in the capital slums. He had no idea how much a peasant farmer made but it was probably much less.

Kýron let his face lapse into suspicion a moment later, imitating a peasant wondering if he was getting as much as he should.

“Aye, I’ve got the information. I think I should get sixty silver for it!” Kýron boasted.

“Seems a little greedy to me,” The man murmured.

“Hey, I got good info! I know where they were, I know where they’re going, and I know how they’re getting there. So you meet my price or I’ll go sell it to someone else!”

The man wordlessly drew his short sword and with the other hand, slammed Kýron back against a tree.

“Oy! What’s all this about then?!” Kýron cried out in a panic that he didn’t feel. He felt the magic flowing under his fingers; coiling with power as if he had laid his hand on a viper’s belly. Magic always had a cost but the man had a large scar on his throat and ripping it open with Dehiscence would barely hurt Kýron at all. If that wasn’t a fatal wound in and of itself, casting Amplify Wound on it and ripping the cut bigger certainly would be. Kýron would be in pain but still completely capable of moving quickly after killing the soldier. Melinda might notice the fresh cuts and lesions on his body that his magic always cost him, but Kýron would find a way to explain that away.

“I’ve had about enough of your lip, little worm,” The man said, pointing his sword at Kýron’s throat. Kýron noticed a nearby traveler looking at them in terror and then quickly hurrying away.

Thanks a lot, Kýron thought.

“I am Captain Rorsch of the Minaan army,” The man continued quietly. Kýron let his eyes appropriately bug out at this completely expected revelation. “That girl belongs to the King and if you don’t tell me everything you know right now, I’ll drag you back to base and let the inquisitors rip the information out of you.”

“Alright! Alright!” Kýron nearly screamed. “I didn’t know you were no army man, sir! I swear it!”

“Where is the girl?” Rorsch growled, twisting the point of his blade against Kýron’s neck, not quite drawing blood.

“Alright! See they came to my home this morning-”

“Where is that?” The captain demanded.

“Meeth, sir! It’s a fishing town some miles north of here! It’s on the Anderlong river!”

“Where did the princess go?”

“Like I said sir, they came to my house this morning and they wanted to buy me Da’s boat!”

“Did your father sell it to them?”

“Me Da’s been dead for five years. I took their money and they took the boat and sailed down the Anderlong!” Kýron whimpered, trying in vain to pull away from the blade.

“Who is ‘they?’”

“Don’t rightly know, sir! The blue girl was traveling with three men. They looked awful mean to me. I thought that they was going to steal Da’s boat but instead they bought it. The princess didn’t look none too happy to be with them. They weren’t too nice to her neither,” Kýron added this last bit to his story on impulse.

Logically, the army would assume that the princess has been rescued by agents from Florin and that those men would be loyal to the princess. As a result, the only place that they would be taking her is back to Florin. Planting the notion that the princess was rescued by men who weren’t exactly friendly to her should confuse the army and throw them into wild and erroneous speculation about what the princess’s saviors’ actual destination and goals really are.

“You said you knew where they were going?” The captain asked in a hard tone, pulling his sword back slightly.

“Yes sir! The men, I overheard them talking about Skarog,” Kýron yelped. According to his map, Skarog was a town near the end of the Anderlong and not very far from the border so it was completely believable that the princess would be headed there.

The captain stared at Kýron for a moment and then sheathed his sword. “Get out of here you filthy rat! And tell no one of what transpired here!”

“Yes sir! Thank you sir!” Kýron squealed, fleeing up the road.

----------------------------------------

Kýron only ran far enough to break line of sight and then he slipped into the trees and doubled back. Quickly noting that his gear was still there and untouched, Kýron peeked down the road and saw the captain was headed back for the fort at a quick pace. Kýron couldn’t be certain but it looked like the Captain had bought his story. Now the next question was: Could he convince his commander that it was true and what would the commander do in response? Kýron grabbed his gear and bolted toward the cliff where he had left Melinda as fast as he could.

----------------------------------------

Melinda was dozing in the glade when Kýron came thundering up. She jumped to her feet, scalpel in hand.

Kýron threw the clothes he bought at her. “Quick, get changed!” He ordered, crouch walking back to the cliff edge.

“What are we doing?” Melinda asked in confusion.

“No time for questions, just get changed!” Kýron said. He threw himself down on his belly at the edge and peered down at the fort. He could recognize Rorsch even at this distance by his ratty clothes. He was standing in the courtyard talking to a man in highly burnished armor. Rorsch appeared to be explaining something to his commander.

Kýron watched closely. He’d laid down the bait but would the commander bite? Facial features were a blur at this distance but going by body language it appeared that the fort commander was skeptical of this story, or perhaps simply didn’t want to waste manpower tracking down a runaway princess. Rorsch handed something to his commander. It was too far away to be sure but Kýron guessed that it was the strip from Melinda’s dress.

“What is going on here?” Melinda whispered, crawling up to Kýron in her new clothes. She now wore a sweater and trousers and looked like any other village girl who was living rough.

Kýron smirked at her. “You know, Mel, that style really suits you,” Kýron chuckled.

Melinda gave him a dirty look. “What is going on?” She repeated in a growl.

Kýron quickly sketched in the situation as he watched the commander gather a group of people around him and begin giving direction. Something was about to happen.

Melinda was digesting his story. “And the captain believed you? He wasn’t at all suspicious?” She asked dubiously.

“Certainly didn’t seem to be,” Kýron answered with a chuckle. “What makes people suspicious is when help gets offered for no reason. I gave Rorsch every reason to believe I was sincere. I drooled over the reward and then tried to cut him out of his half. Or what he told me was his half anyway,” Kýron amended with a foul look on his face.

The men in the fort appeared to be saddling their horses.

“They’re taking the bait!” Kýron crowed quietly.

“After they’re gone do we make a run for the border?” Melinda asked.

“Not as such,” Kýron disagreed, watching as the fort prepared to virtually empty itself. “According to the map, there are three more forts we would need to bypass to reach the border and I doubt that this brilliant trick of mine is going to work three more times.”

“Then how are we going to get out of Minaan?” She asked.

“Just like I said,” Kýron chuckled, “By doing something that our enemy doesn’t expect,” He said, pointing at the ice-capped mountain rising behind the fort.

Melinda stared at the towering craggy landmark. “Oh dear,” She whispered.

----------------------------------------

“Are you certain that this is a good idea?” Melinda asked wearily as Kýron pulled her up over a ridge.

“Well, I’m not sure I would call it a good idea as much as it was the only idea I had,” Kýron replied, easily continuing his climb. The large backpack he wore was not slowing him at all.

“Are you sure this mountain is even traversable?” She asked. Melinda wasn’t wearing a backpack but she still seemed very weary as they climbed the mountain.

“No, but I am sure that the border wasn’t going to be. The merchant I spoke to said that he’d gotten around to the other side of the mountain by accident once but turned back before trying to descend into Calabri. So at least we know that that much is doable. And to be honest, freezing to death sounds like a much better death than any number of games you’ve told me that the local king likes to play with his pets,” Kýron replied, helping Melinda navigate the rugged terrain. They were nearly six hours up the mountain and it was bitterly cold.

“You’ll hear no argument from me on that point,” Melinda admitted. “But actually, I was more worried about you. I’m under a sentence of death whether I freeze up here or the soldiers catch me but you’re risking your life because of me.”

Kýron stepped gingerly along the icy ground, whistling a cheerful tune. “Well, we’re not dead unless they catch us or we run into trouble up here, so hold off on composing our epitaph. Although, if it makes you feel any better, Mel, I’m not in this mess because of you. The local authorities have their own reasons to want me dead.”

Melinda blinked. “Why is that?”

Kýron hesitated a moment. “Let’s… talk about something happier,” He said with a forced smile.

Melinda paused and then let the matter drop. “I’ll never be able to repay you for the risk you’re running for me. I promise you, if we arrive at my home safely, you will be richly rewarded.”

Melinda couldn’t miss the way that Kýron hesitated upon hearing this. After a moment, he laughed. “Mel, nobody runs these kind of risks for money. Men will kill for gold but never assume that they’ll die for it. I’m helping you because I want to, not because I expect to get something out of it.”

Melinda shook her head in wonder. “You remind me of the heroes in my story books. The brave knights who set out to liberate the fair maiden from the wicked elf’s lair,” She laughed.

Melinda noticed Kýron’s face darken when she said this but she wasn’t sure why.

“Are there a lot of stories like that in Florin?” Kýron muttered, laboriously pulling himself over a ridge.

“Yes, the nobleborn love to frighten themselves senseless with gruesome tales about FleshShapers and wicked blood mages who spread pestilence and use their magic to enslave the people.”

Kýron paused for a moment, catching his breath before helping Melinda up the ridge. “Those are popular stories?” Kýron asked skeptically. “They sound awful.”

“The nobility as a rule is very bored, Kýron. They leap at any form of diversion, including terrorizing themselves. Monsters crafted by blood magic and FleshShaping, dark castles, and hideous elven blood rites are the subjects of many of Florin’s most popular novels, although reputable people don’t display them openly on their shelves. They’re full of gore, foul language, and scantily clad maidens tied down to altars at the mercy of wicked sorcerers,” Melinda chuckled.

Kýron raised an eye brow. “You’ve read these books?”

“I’m as bored as any other noble lady,” Melinda admitted. “The men go out to play and we’re left to spin clothing, bare children, and keep the house tidy. The conversations Mother has with her ladies in waiting about their husbands and lovers would scandalize you. They were passing these books around so I pocketed a few without Mother noticing.”

Kýron laughed. “Nicely done! Did you read these with your girlfriends at sleep overs?”

Melinda shrugged. “I don’t have many friends per se. Rank and custom keeps us our relationships fairly distant,” She admitted. “The few times I’ve been able to spend some time with other young noblewomen in a setting where we could all let our hair down, so to speak, the stories got far worse.”

Kýron studied a steep ridge carefully before attempting his ascent. “I’m sure that I’m going to hate myself for asking this but what could be worse than black magic and human sacrifice?”

“The stories about the King of Minaan and his amusements,” Melinda said calmly. “It was a common threat growing up: Behave yourself or to Minaan you’ll go. Most of the girls I knew used to terrify themselves telling stories to one another late at night about what the King would do if he ever got his hands on us. I used to laugh at their wild stories.” She sighed and shook her head. “It doesn’t feel very funny right now…”

“No, I would guess that it wouldn’t,” Kýron agreed, pausing on a narrow ridge and waiting to help Melinda cross.

Melinda frowned, trying to navigate the steep slope. She took a step and her foot slid out from under her. Only Kýron’s wild grab catching her hand prevented the princess from rolling and tumbling all the way back down the mountain.

Kýron panted for breath. “Careful,” Kýron warned.

Melinda nodded, her face very pale as she recovered her balance. “I must admit, I still have very serious misgivings about this plan,” Melinda said, gingerly feeling her way across the icy rock. “We’re not even sure that this mountain can be crossed and we’re gambling our lives on that fact. As a strategy it just seems rather… desperate.”

“Well, Mel, in case you didn’t notice, we are pretty desperate. But actually, I’d argue that crossing the mountain is sound strategy. In every conflict, you win by a simple device: doing something that your opponent doesn’t expect,” Kýron said with a shrug. “I sent the local soldiers off in the wrong direction so we were able to sneak past the fort and up the mountain. If we’re lucky, the soldiers will take a long time to wonder if we’ve gone this way. Anyway, for us things have actually worked out pretty well. We’ve gotten a six hour head start up the mountain and assuming that the soldiers are going to be thorough at searching Meeth and the Anderlong, we might get a twelve or even twenty four hour head start.”

“True but as we saw they have many horses so they can catch up quickly once they do figure it out,” Melinda replied, working her way up the slope.

“Horses?” Kýron asked with a laugh. “You couldn’t ride a mountain goat up this slope! If and when the soldiers do start chasing us, they’ll be hours behind and I doubt they have the equipment or supplies necessary for a protracted chase. If we’re lucky they might even give up on the spot.”

Kýron pulled Melinda up the next ledge. Melinda doubled over, panting for breath. Kýron shielded his eyes against the sun and looked back down the trail. “Well, we’re not as lucky as I had hoped but we’re still pretty lucky, I think,” He remarked.

Melinda caught her breath and stood up, looking back down the mountain. Far, far down the slope, ant-like soldiers were slowly picking their way up the rugged trail.

“They’re after us,” Melinda said in a voice that was near to weeping.

“Not for much longer,” Kýron said in an unconcerned voice, walking away.

“What do you mean?!”

“They’ve only got a few more hours until sunset and then they’ll need to bed down for the night. Can you even imagine trying to climb this mountain in the dark?” He replied. “Better yet, I don’t think that they’re carrying any supplies for the night. I don’t see any tents or food bags. They didn’t prepare for the climb at all!” Kýron laughed. “We’re golden!”

“Wouldn’t they have the equipment to climb the mountain?” Melinda asked, trying to follow Kýron up the slope.

“Maybe but I doubt the average soldier has the training or equipment to do it and this group doesn’t appear to have any gear with them anyway,” Kýron replied. “Regardless of how they managed to figure out our plan, I’m guessing that the commander sent these men after us immediately to try and cut us off while they send for their actual mountaineering team and got them set up and equipped for a chase up a frozen mountain. There’s no way any additional troops can come after us until tomorrow morning at the earliest. They’ll never catch up if we keep moving.

Melinda stopped climbing and doubled over, panting for breath and holding her side. “Kýron, I’m sorry,” Melinda gasped.

“For what?” Kýron asked, glancing back in confusion.

“I… I don’t think I can go any further.” Melinda said, shamefaced and struggling to catch her breath.

Kýron’s face fell. “Uh, Mel, this really isn’t a good time for a rest stop. They’re not all that far behind us.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I… just can’t go any further,” Melinda was on the verge of tears. “I’ve never walked so far in my entire life!”

Kýron glanced down the mountain at the men far below but not nearly far enough.

“Kýron, you did your best,” Melinda whispered. “Go on without me.”

Kýron looked offended. “Mel, are you really willing to just let them capture you after all this?” He scoffed.

“Don’t worry, they won’t capture me,” Melinda said, looking off the nearby edge with a beatific smile.

Kýron frowned. “OK, let’s call that idea ‘Plan B.’”

This girl has read too many of the wrong books. What is it with noblewomen and looking for excuses to kill themselves? As soon as anything goes wrong, they start thinking about nooses, and poisons, and high towers.

Kýron briefly considered his options. They were damn few.

You know, you could just leave her behind, A cold voice in his mind whispered. You’ve done everything you could for this fainting flower. No one can argue that you didn’t try your best to save her. She just couldn’t pull her weight. You can just leave her behind and keep on moving. You’ll leave the soldiers in the dust. After all, no one should ever feel obligated to risk their life to save someone else’s.

Kýron made a face. And would you be satisfied with that? He asked himself in reply. Can you meet the Lady in the afterlife and say ‘I have come home, Lady, and I have done the best that I could?’

Kýron sighed, knowing the answer to that question. He shook his head.

I am such an idiot…

Alright, well if I’m not going to abandon Melinda then that really leaves me with only one option and it’s a lousy one…

He slipped the backpack off his shoulders. “Here, put this on,” Kýron told her, handing her the backpack.

“Why?”

“Just do it,” Kýron said impatiently.

Melinda sighed and pulled the backpack on.

Kýron crouched down in front of her. “Climb on my back.”

“Kýron, you can’t carry me up a mountain.”

“You let me worry about that. Just get on,” Kýron told her in no mood to discuss it.

Melinda climbed onto his back with a sigh.

Kýron legs nearly buckled under the combined weight then steadied himself. With a deep breath, he resumed his slow trudge up the mountain. Each step was a huge effort, both due to the weight and to the fact that he was horribly off-balance as he climbed up the rough and poorly defined trail.

“Kýron, we’re not going to get anywhere moving this slowly,” Melinda told him.

“No, you weren’t going to get anywhere sitting still,” Kýron corrected her. “Moving in the right direction slowly is a lot more productive than not moving at all. Well, I guess if you had jumped you’d be moving fast but it would have been in the wrong direction.”

Melinda was quiet for a moment. “Do you really think we can get away?”

“Sure,” Kýron answered in a labored voice. “The sun is already starting to set. No one climbs an icy mountain in the dark unless they have a death wish. They’ll have to make camp or turn back as the sun goes down. We’ll get a nice rest and then make an early start tomorrow morning and keep ahead of them.”

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Two hours later, the sun was low on the horizon and Kýron’s legs were trembling violently.

“Melinda, I’m sorry but you need to get down,” He said with a sigh.

Melinda nodded and slid off Kýron’s back. She glanced back down the mountain. “Well, it appears they haven’t turned back,” She whispered plaintively. “Do you think that they plan to make camp?”

“I suppose,” Kýron said, looking back down the trail. The soldiers had closed a lot of the gap between them but Kýron and Melinda had kept ahead and he didn’t think the soldiers had spotted them yet. Since the soldiers weren’t struggling to drag a noblewoman up the slope, they were covering the distance in much less time. “I don’t see them carrying any backpacks big enough to have tents though,” He shook his head groggily. “Beyond that, I don’t remember any area flat enough to make camp where they are for an hour in either direction.”

“This isn’t working out too well, is it?” Melinda murmured with a sigh.

“We’re still in the game,” Kýron said, putting on a cheerful smile. “Let’s get up onto that plateau up ahead and plan our next move.”

Not that Melinda doesn’t make an excellent point. Those soldiers will need to stop soon but come morning, our situation will be dire. The soldiers are going to catch up quickly due to how slowly Melinda and I are moving and there are barely any hiding spots on this mountain!

My wounds have healed. If I called on the magic, could I scare them off?

Kýron shook his head and put it out of his mind for the moment.

Kýron tried to keep climbing and his knees buckled. He barely managed to catch himself before face-planting against the rocky ground. His limbs were all shaking from cold and exhaustion.

Kýron sighed. Regardless of the situation and the need, his body still had sharp limits and in the past few days he had pushed past most of them. He simply didn’t have anything more to give.

Melinda took Kýron by the arm and this time, she helped his faltering body up the rugged ledge toward level ground.

Melinda crested the rise. “Oh my,” She whispered.

Kýron looked up and saw a huge mass of clouds, black as pitch, that were sweeping down over the mountains in the distance. The snowfall was clearly visible from miles away as was the ferocious wind that battered at the pine trees.

“No,” Melinda whimpered at the oncoming blizzard. “Not after we’ve come so far. It’s just not fair.”

“It’s perfect!” Kýron said excitedly. “This is just what we needed!”

“What?”

“This way!” Kýron said, rushing further up the trail. Kýron was running on raw adrenaline. Every step threatened a stumble but he forced himself on. “Quick, we need to find a shelter that faces away from the wind!”

He looked around and spotted an opening in the mountain. “A cave, that’s perfect! Luck is with us!”

“I don’t understand,” Melinda said. The cave ceiling was extremely low and the cave was only a few feet deep. “We won’t be able to hide from anyone in here!”

“Give me the backpack!” Kýron ordered. She mutely obeyed and he started to yank things out of it. “Mel, we have a lot to do and no time to do it so I need you to do exactly what I say and not ask any questions.”

“Alright,” Melinda said mystified.

A few minutes later, Melinda had assisted Kýron in setting up the low-hanging tent inside the cave. He put the backpack and the sleeping roll inside it.

“Do you want me to spread out the other sleeping roll?” Melinda offered.

“No, Mel. Now I need you to get naked,” Kýron said, removing his coat.

Melinda stared at him. “What?!” She gasped her eyes large as hens eggs. “Kýron… you’ve been a good friend but I don’t-”

“Remember, no questions! And hurry! We’re running out of time!” He said as Kýron continued to strip himself.

Melinda bit her lip indecisively. “OK… I trust you,” She said finally, struggling to get out of her clothes. After a moment, an almost naked Kýron started helping her unbutton her underclothes.

Who makes clothes that you can’t get in or out of unassisted?! And why?!

A few moments later, Melinda was as naked as the day she was born. Her bright red flush was only partially caused by the cold. “Get into the sleeping roll,” He ordered as the wind picked up.

Melinda bit her lip and did as instructed. A moment later Kýron, also naked, slipped in behind her closing the tent flap and piling blankets and coats around their sleeping roll and bundling them in. Melinda deliberately turned her back to Kýron, blushing and trembling furiously as he climbed into the roll behind her. Melinda moved as far away from him as the tiny sleeping roll would allow.

Kýron then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“What are you doing?!” Melinda squealed.

“Trying to make it through the storm with all ten fingers and toes,” Kýron answered, shivering. “Wrap your arms around me to stay warm.”

“Kýron, I don’t know if I can do this… you’re very kind but… my duty-”

“Melinda, we are not having sex,” Kýron sighed. Melinda thought that he sounded as if he was rolling his eyes.

“We’re just trying to stay warm,” Kýron continued. “You’re still going to be a virgin when you get down the mountain but if you don’t wrap your arms around me, you’re going to be finishing the climb with a lot fewer fingers,” Kýron paused. “And also maybe a few less teeth. You’re shivering so much that you sound like you swallowed a pair of castanets.”

Melinda lay there indecisively and shivering violently until Kýron forcibly turned her around and pulled her into an embrace, rubbing his hands along her back to warm her up.

For a moment, the warmth was so wonderful that Melinda completely forgot she was embracing a naked man and wrapped her arms and legs around Kýron pressing tightly against him. However, this only lasted a few seconds until she noticed their nethers pressing together and she started to pull away.

“Mel, this is likely going to be a long night. You really need to calm down,” Kýron advised.

“I’m pressed up against a naked man and you want me to calm down?!” Melinda demanded in a shrill voice.

“Point taken,” Kýron admitted. He thought about it for a moment. “You know, Mel, I’m not really a man. Well, not in the way that seems to bother you, anyway. Can’t you try to think of me as a ram? Or a stag?”

“Wait, what exactly do you mean by that?” Melinda asked in confusion.

Kýron paused. “Actually, never mind,” He sighed.

They were silent for a moment as the wind howled outside.

“Do you really think that the soldiers won’t find the cave? It’s entrance is right out in the open,” Melinda worried.

“Find the cave?” Kýron laughed. “Mel, those soldiers are dead! You wouldn’t last twenty minutes in this storm without freezing to death.”

“Wouldn’t they just set up their own camp and wait out the storm?”

Melinda felt Kýron shrug. “I didn’t see them carrying any equipment to endure the storm. Even then, I doubt they would have had time. We were lucky. We saw the storm coming across the plateau. The storm would have crested the mountain and taken them completely by surprise. Unless they had really good equipment and training, none of them are going to make it through this storm. Congratulations, Mel, we have officially outrun our pursuers.”

Melinda was silent a moment. “But what’s going to happen to us?” She asked.

“We’re hunkered down in the perfect place. This cave was a godsend. It keeps us out of the wind and the snow. We just need to stay here and wait the storm out,” Kýron said.

“What if we freeze to death?” Melinda asked.

“We’re not going to freeze. Are you really that cold right now?”

Melinda thought about it. The sleeping roll was definitely cold but more like the castle on a cold morning than being outside in a winter wind. It reminded Melinda of those chilly days when she burrowed under her blankets until the maids would come to force her out of bed.

Kýron scratched his cheek. “We just need to stay here and get some rest. When the storm passes we’ll find our way down the mountain and into Calabri,” He said.

“How long will the storm last?”

“Several hours, possibly a day or two. Either way we could both use the sleep,” Kýron yawned.

“How can you possibly sleep after all this?!” Melinda demanded in disbelief. “We’re stranded on a freezing cold mountain, trapped by a winter storm and an entire army wants us both dead!”

“Yeah, Mel, that’s my whole point. I’m exhausted! I’ve been running since I left the capital and I’ve barely slept in the past two days. I’m bleeding, bruised, battered, and every muscle in my body screams like an abscessed tooth. Right now, the only thing that’s holding me together is my skin!” Kýron replied with a weary chuckle. “Anyway, nothing interesting is going to happen for a while,” He said in a thick voice on the edge of sleep. “So you may as well lay back and get some rest.”

Kýron closed his eyes and didn’t reopen them.

Melinda shook her head in wonder. She was amazed that he could drop off so easily after the frantic day they’d had. Despite her exhaustion, Melinda didn’t think that there was any way she could sleep with a naked man lying against her and his… member pressing against her virtue. Melinda was still brooding on this when she fell asleep in between thoughts.

----------------------------------------

Kýron woke up some hours later. He presumed it was still nighttime but with the storm howling outside, it was hard to tell. At some point during the night, Melinda had turned around and was facing away from him.

“Kýron, are you awake?” She murmured.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“You stopped snoring that’s how,” She replied. Kýron could hear the smile in her voice.

“I do not snore,” Kýron protested. He paused. “You know, it’s weird how we all get offended at the mere suggestion that we might snore, like it’s some kind of terrible character defect that we refuse to be associated with.”

Melinda chuckled.

“Do you have your map handy?” She asked.

“Yeah it’s in my satchel. Why?” Kýron said with a yawn.

“I thought that since we were trapped here we might as well try to make some plans,” She replied.

“Sound logic,” Kýron said, reaching for his satchel while trying not to leave the bed roll or let the heat out.

He dug out the map and handed it to Melinda who rolled onto her back as she studied it for a few moments. “I was ever an indifferent student of geography,” She admitted. “It appears as though we’re going to come out of the mountains right about here,” She said pointing at a small town in Calabri labeled ‘Misotto.’

“Probably,” Kýron agreed.

“It seems to be rather far off the beaten track but if we go down this road here then we should reach the highway. Then it should be an easy trek back to Florin. I’d wager we could be there inside of a week.”

Kýron glanced away and bit his lip.

Melinda turned to face him, confused by the conflicted look on his face. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

Kýron grimaced and then coughed awkwardly. “Mel, I’ve been thinking,” He said, looking uncomfortable. “Maybe you going back to Florin right away… isn’t the best strategy.”

Melinda stared at him in confusion then shook her head. “Of course I need to go home. It’s my responsibility. Where else would I go?” Melinda paused and then thought that she understood what was bothering him. “And you, of course, are welcome to return with me and enjoy our hospitality. There is no reason for us to have to say goodbye just yet,” She said reassuringly. “My father owes you a great debt if he loves his daughter at all.”

To Melinda’s confusion, Kýron’s face grew even more miserable.

“You know, Mel,” Kýron began awkwardly. “I’ve been thinking about the story you told me; you know about how you got into Minaan and got captured? Something has been bothering me about it. I didn’t want to bring it up because I was worried it would distract you during our escape but since we’ve got nothing to do right now, maybe it’s time we finally discuss it.”

“What do you mean?” Melinda asked.

“Give me the map,” Kýron said.

Melinda handed it to him.

“OK, you were here at Avon and you wound up over here near Verna, right?” Kýron said, spreading out the map.

“That’s right, my guards got lost in the fog and by the time we knew where we were, we were across the border and completely surrounded,” Melinda said.

Kýron looked awkward. “Right, about that,” Kýron said slowly. “OK so, here’s Avon,” Kýron pointed at the map. “And here’s Wiz, the capital, about sixty miles away, east by southeast.”

“Yes,” Melinda nodded.

“And here we have Verna, where you ultimately wound up, thirty miles almost directly due west of Avon on the king’s highway,” Kýron pointed out. “According to this map, that means your guards made a seriously wrong turn a minimum of four times along the highway to end up at Verna from Avon.”

“It was a dark foggy night. Even my guards would make mistakes under such circumstances, they’re only human,” Melinda said, looking confused.

“One mistake is human,” Kýron agreed. “Two could be attributed to a lapse in concentration. Three is stupid. But the same mistake made time and time again accomplishing a singular purpose suggests… a different kind of human fallibility.”

Melinda’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you trying to say?” She asked slowly.

Kýron hesitated. “You said that they asked you to keep the blinds down to avoid attracting unwanted attention.”

“Yes, that’s right,” She nodded. “With the civil war still waging, most of the soldiers are at the front. I was traveling with a very small guard and would have been very vulnerable to attack if word had leaked out about my movements.”

“So then, I assume they made you travel in an unmarked carriage?” Kýron asked.

Melinda blinked. “No, I suppose that they didn’t think of that.”

“And I’d expect that they took off their uniforms so no one would know they were the royal guards escorting an important person?”

“No, they did not,” Melinda said, looking worried.

“So the only thing that was actually accomplished by forcing you to keep the blinds closed, was to ensure that you didn’t realize that you were going the wrong way,” Kýron pointed out.

Melinda blinked.

“I’m sorry, Melinda, but your men didn’t get lost. We are free to speculate as to their motives but those guards put you exactly where they wanted you to be. You got sold out,” Kýron said sympathetically.

“Sold me…” Melinda whispered her face a mask of betrayal and horror. “Those men have guarded me since I was an infant. Why would they do such a thing?”

“Well,” Kýron hesitated a moment. “If you’re lucky, the guards did it because they took a bribe from Minaan,” He said awkwardly.

“And in what way would that be at all lucky?” Melinda asked flabbergasted.

“Because… the only other possibility is that they took you across the border… because someone ordered them to,” Kýron explained gently.

Melinda blinked. “But who would do that?”

“Beats me, I don’t know anything at all about Florin or its politics. But some people in Florin are clearly trying to get rid of you and we don’t know who or why or how many. So my next question is, do you have anywhere else to go? Who do you know to whom you could entrust your life?”

Melinda lay there for a long moment, her eyes staring at nothing as her entire world reeled around her.

She took a deep breath. “Jessica,” She said finally.

“And just who is Jessica?” Kýron asked.

“My eldest sister. We were always very close. We write to each other every month. She would never betray me under any circumstances,” Melinda said confidently.

“OK but does she have the ability to protect you from someone in authority who does want to betray you?”

“I don’t know,” Melinda said, her voice cracking a bit with suppressed tears. “I don’t know who is trying to eliminate me so I’m unsure of how to protect myself. But if someone in Florin has betrayed me, then you’re right. I need to hide somewhere else for the time being until I learn whom. Jessica is married to a Duke in Calabri. If we can get there I’m sure she can protect me.”

Melinda sighed, her face pale and drawn. “I suppose it’s just good luck that we’re already heading toward Calabri,” She said, rubbing her forehead pensively.

Melinda thought for a moment and then her eyes narrowed. “How long have you known about this?” She asked in a hard voice, looking at Kýron suspiciously.

Kýron scratched his head awkwardly. “…Pretty much since you told me about your capture,” He admitted. “I knew there were parts of that story that didn’t add up but I didn’t want to distract you with worrying about that when we had to be focused on escaping.”

Melinda snorted and deliberately turned her back to Kýron. “I suppose I have all the time in the world to think about it now!” She snapped.

Kýron wasn’t sure what to say and Melinda didn’t speak another word.

Some time later, he drifted back to sleep.

----------------------------------------

Kýron woke up early the next morning and the storm had passed. Melinda was still fast asleep so, trying not to wake her, he reached down into his backpack and pulled out a cram-biscuit.

Kýron mused over their situation as he ate.

Alright, we still have the rest of the mountain to deal with but on the bright side, we have effectively outrun all pursuit. Nobody in their right mind is going to try to follow us up a mountain after a storm like that. Everybody in Minaan will quite rightly assume that the storm killed everyone on the mountain and that Melinda is dead.

Come to think of it, if the someone back in Minaan has connected the princess’s escape to ‘the demon’ then they might assume that I’m dead too. That could only make my life easier.

Of course, the next question is, what now? That blizzard will have buried the mountain in fresh, powdery snow. Traversing a mountain after that much new snow has been deposited seems to be begging for avalanches and stumbling into unseen crevasses that are covered in an inch of snow.

The smart move would be to just make camp for a day or two and then set out again once the area has had a chance to stablize. Unfortunately, that runs smack up against our limited supplies. Melinda proved in the first three hours of our hike that she simply wouldn’t be able to carry a backpack while making it up the slope. Finally, I just had to bow to reality and told her to take her backpack off and throw into a deep chasm so that the pursers wouldn’t get their hands on any extra supplies.

My plan had been to bring enough supplies to last two people a week. Now our supplies seem more likely to last two people three or four days. Melinda simply won’t be capable of going on short rations during the hike. Her pampered body is already struggling to endure the trek as it is. I can handle short rations for a few days but that’s still only going to get us through four or five days until we’re utterly out of food. I’m a good forager but I doubt that there’s anything to eat on the rocky slopes of an icy mountain.

Kýron pulled out his map and studied it.

OK. I can’t expect the mountain to be drawn all that accurately but assuming the size is at least more or less realistic, it should only take us two or three days to get down the other side and into Calabri.

Our supplies will certainly last us three days but a lot could still go wrong. A single wrong turn or getting lost for a few hours could cause our chances to go from slim to bleak. I think we burned through nine lives of luck in that last storm. We not only saw it coming but we managed to find a good shelter before it hit us. The second big storm might catch us by complete surprise during the descent on the exposed face of the mountain. Not to mention that any safe paths down the mountain would be much more difficult to find and follow under all this fresh ice and snow. I don’t have any formal training in mountain crossing. I just picked up a few basics out of sheer desperation after a few escapes from places that were hunting me down that I barely survived.

Kýron was still balancing risks in his mind when Melinda finally stirred and opened her eyes.

“Good morning,” Melinda murmured, stretching while doing her best to cover herself up with a blanket. “Oh marvelous, food!” She said enthusiastically.

Melinda devoured three cram-biscuits in rapid succession and washed it down with a large drink of water.

Kýron looked on sourly as Melinda devoured two days worth of rations for breakfast. This made up his mind.

----------------------------------------

“We need to be really quiet,” Kýron whispered as they emerged from the cave. Kýron wanted to leave Melinda unencumbered so they would make better time, so he was again carrying the backpack which he was already wishing was heavier as their supplies dwindled. The rough trail ahead was covered with a foot of fresh powdery snow.

“Why?” Melinda asked quietly. “Do you think that there are more soldiers up here?”

“No, they’re dead and buried,” Kýron snickered as he broke a long branch off a tree and made a walking stick. “The fresh snow in these mountains is just very prone to avalanches. So we don’t want to disturb it.”

“Oh,” Melinda murmured, looking worried up at the mountain peak.

“Follow me and step where I step,” Kýron said, walking along carefully and occasionally poking at suspicious ground with his stick.

“How long do you expect it will take us to get into Calabri?” Melinda asked.

“Assuming that my map is more or less accurate, three days if we’re lucky,” Kýron replied. “Assuming we keep up a brisk pace,” He added.

“I promise I’ll do my best. I’m descended from Yorick the Strong, you know,” Melinda said bravely as she felt her way along the narrow, frozen ridge.

“Mel, I have absolutely no idea who that is but I’m all for whatever keeps you moving,” Kýron replied.

Melinda looked at him strangely. “You have never heard of Yorick the Strong?”

Crap, Kýron thought to himself. Nothing else to do for it now. “I’m… not from around here, Mel,” Kýron said vaguely. “Let’s keep moving,” He said, changing the subject.

Melinda looked baffled but followed along obediently.

----------------------------------------

“Well, that was throughly unpleasant,” Kýron sighed as they finally left the slope for the more rolling hillside. The sun was setting over the forest.

Kýron heard his stomach rumble ominously.

‘Unpleasant’ doesn’t cover half of it. Three whole days on short rations during a mountain descent?! Even worse, it turns out I drastically underestimated how much food Mel needed to eat. I knew there was no way she could handle being on short rations and so for the past day and a half, I’ve just had no food at all.

“Agreed but we should be safe enough while we remain in Calabri at least,” Melinda said, walking wearily behind him. “Which way should we go?”

Kýron pointed through the forest. “I saw a road in that direction as we came down the slope. A road usually leads to a town. If we’re lucky we’ll see someone that we can ask for directions.”

Kýron kept walking but his eyes were darting everywhere, looking for ferns, herbs, mushrooms, anything edible to take the edge off his gnawing hunger. Unfortunately, this forest was a maze of tall fir and pine trees so the undergrowth was minimal.

Kýron was no stranger to hunger, it was an all too familiar companion on his travels. He knew how to manage the discomfort and how to care for his body through the lean spells when he had little food. However, the past few days crossing the mountain had taken herculean efforts that had been done on short rations. His body was making several ominous warnings. He could keep walking today and maybe part of tomorrow but he’d be in trouble after that if he didn’t get his hands on some food.

A snowflake touched his head. He reached up and felt more flakes falling. “Oh, perfect,” He sighed.

----------------------------------------

Moira, a middle aged woman with long red hair set in twin braids, had just forced a pair of miners to shake hands before their fight started to break up the furniture. Ninety percent of serving drinks in a mining town was defusing fights before they got out of hand. The two idiots sat down warily, still glaring at each other, and in three more drinks Moira knew they would be singing off key, arm in arm.

It would probably be a slow night. The snow was falling steadily and while it wasn’t a lot of snow for Misotto, where they measured snow in feet when they bothered to measure it at all, most folks were likely to stay home tonight.

The bell hanging on the door tinkled. Everyone looked up as two strangers came into the bar. The newcomers were a young man and woman who looked like they’d been living rough. They were both swaying, clearly dead on their feet.

“Can we get some food, please?” The man asked, staggering to a table followed by the girl.

The scarcely populated bar continued to stare at them. Strangers very seldom came to Misotto unless they wanted to buy ore and strangers almost never came in the harsh winter months. The patrons looked at them suspiciously, assuming that the newcomers were trouble, likely as not. The bar was dead quiet.

Over her many years keeping bar, Moira had learned that there were two times it was dangerous in the bar: when the bar was too loud and when it got too quiet, and the latter was when the really nasty fights tended to break out.

Moira hustled over to the newcomers. “Evening all!” She said with forced cheerfulness. “I’m Moira and this is my establishment. What can I do for ya?”

“Anything edible would be wonderful right now,” The man said with a weary grin. The girl nodded enthusiastically.

“Rough travels?” Moira said sympathetically.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t believe it,” The man said, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah the road’s in tough shape during the winter,” Moira commiserated.

“We didn’t come in on the road,” The girl murmured.

The man’s eyes snapped open and Moira saw him trying to signal the girl to shut up but she didn’t notice. “We came over the mountains,” She continued.

Moira blinked. “Which mountain?”

The man sighed. “Whichever one is growing out of your back yard,” He said in a resigned voice. “We crossed over here from Minaan.”

For a moment, the bar somehow got even quieter.

“Bullshit!” A patron yelled out.

“You came over old Keredas?” Moira asked. “Nobody’s done that in a hundred years!”

“It was not fun, I assure you,” The man agreed.

“We needed to escape some people,” Melinda added.

“Mel, stop talking!” The man snapped in a low voice.

The girl flinched in surprise and then nodded, shamefaced.

Moira cleared her throat. “Well, your business is none of mine as the saying goes, especially anything you lot were up to in Minaan. My granddaddy died fighting that lot. So what can I bring you two tonight?”

“Food and a lot of it, Moira. We’ll also want a room for the night,” The man said, pulling a silver coin out of his pack.

“You looking for a room with one bed or two?” Moira asked.

The girl blushed bright red.

“Two beds if you have it,” The man said.

“Sure thing, we’re empty right now. Caravan season is months away,” Moira said. “The room will cost you 8 copper and we got some fresh mutton still hot from the stove. That’ll be another 3 cooper each.”

The man handed her four silver coins. “Keep the food coming and keep the change,” He said with a tired sigh.

“Yes, sir!” Moira said, her cheer no longer feigned. This was her biggest tip in months. She bustled back toward the kitchen to get the food.

----------------------------------------

“Kýron, why shouldn’t we have told them about the mountain?” Melinda asked him in a low voice.

“Mel, we just got here and we don’t know who anyone is. I’m just saying, maybe it’s not a great idea to bandy about who we are and what we’re doing. You never know who might sell you out,” Kýron replied quietly.

Melinda looked around at the small group of grizzled miners who were watching them with disconcerting intensity and swallowed hard.

Moira came back out with two large trays of mutton and two mugs of what looked like mead. “Here you go kids,” She said, placing it down in front of them.

“Thank you, Moira,” Kýron said, digging in with ravenous hunger.

Moira looked impressed. “My word, so you kids really have been lost in the woods for some time.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘lost’ exactly,” Kýron replied, taking a drink.

“So what can I call you two?” Moira asked.

“I’m Kýron and this is Mel,” He said with a warning glance at Melinda.

Kýron could see that Moira noticed him signaling Melinda but he didn’t want to risk her giving away any more information than she already had.

Moira leaned back against the bar. “Well, like I said your business is your business. Whatever… unpleasantness you left behind in Minaan is someone else’s problem. I’m not interested in doing those dirty prats a good turn. But if you really did come down Keredas I’ve love to hear the story. We don’t get many travelers in these parts.”

Kýron glanced at the other patrons who were now watching them with guarded interest. Kýron quickly calculated that at this point being as friendly as possible was probably his best bet.

“Well, it was kinda like this…”

----------------------------------------

An hour later, Kýron had finished his story of the crossing. Kýron was finally feeling full and the bar patrons were staring at them in wonder. Melinda hadn’t contributed much except to blush furiously when a miner asked how they’d survived the freezing blizzard. This had not gone unnoticed and caused a few miners to chuckle knowingly and one made a whispered comment to Moira that had earned him a punch from the well-muscled barmaid.

The miners had quickly guessed why Melinda had needed to flee from Minaan although Kýron refused to confirm that. The king’s predatory instincts were widely held in contempt throughout the land. Kýron made no reference to who Melinda really was or where she came from, ignoring any questions from that direction.

“That’s one hell of a story,” Moira said to a murmur of agreement from the crowd. “So where are you two off to now?”

“You mean besides bed? I could sleep for a week,” Kýron replied to a few chuckles. He weighed the risks for a moment and then mentally shrugged. “We’re headed toward the capital. Any idea how long it would take this time of year?”

A man sitting at the bar scratched a short scruff of beard. He looked too slender and clean to be a miner, probably a merchant of some kind. “The walk to the outskirts will take you close to a week and the roads aren’t that good, although compared to the mountain trails on Keredas the road would probably be a treat,” He said. “If I were you I’d head south west to Tojo.”

“That’s the wrong way,” Kýron objected.

“I know that but you can make the trip in a day or two. If you got a few silver coins you can pay a wagoner to drive you to the capital. This time of year wagons go back and forth constantly bringing trade goods to the port at Tojo and then headed back to the capital.”

“Well, that sounds promising,” Kýron said standing up. “I’d love to keep chatting but I think we should get to bed before someone needs to carry us up there.”

“Upstairs, first door on your left,” Moira said, handing him a key. “Bathhouse is in back if you two want to freshen up first,” Moira pointed toward the rear of the inn.

“Oh, that sounds just heavenly,” Melinda whispered with a beatific smile.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind getting clean myself,” Kýron muttered, looking down at his filthy clothes.

“There are screens and dividers in the bath house to provide some privacy if you two want to bathe at the same time,” Moira told them. This prompted some more whispered snickering from a miner sitting at the bar. Moira threw an empty tankard at his head which made the rest of the patrons burst out laughing.

“Also, we have clean robes for you to change into when you come out,” Moira added. “I’m about to do a load of laundry. Want me to scrub those clothes while I do?”

“That would be wonderful,” Kýron said. “How much do I owe you for the service?”

“Forget it,” Moira said. “That story paid for it. Just leave the clothes in the basket outside the bath house. I’ll put them outside your room first thing in the morning.”

“Sounds great, thank you Moira,” Kýron said as he and Melinda walked toward the bath house.

----------------------------------------

“Ah,” Melinda breathed in absolute contentment. “This is heaven.”

For a small mining town, the bath was nothing short of luxurious. The indoor bath house was a standing stone pool cut into the earth, probably heated by some kind of natural underground hot spring. The bath itself looked like a maze with numerous paths through the baths separated by wood and stone dividers. A large crowd could bathe together without actually having to look at one another, undoubtedly a huge bonus during the caravan season when the inn would be extremely crowded. Melinda was thus given a reasonable amount of privacy from her companion.

“Oh yeah,” Kýron agreed, bobbing in the warm steamy water. He hadn’t realized just how tautly stretched his muscles were until the heat forced them to relax. His body was so sore that initially it has responded to the bath’s heat with searing pain but then after a few moments his muscles all let go at once and Kýron sank into the warmth. Now, the only threat was that he might fall asleep in the bath.

“I’m sorry about telling the bar about our escape from Minaan,” Melinda said after a moment.

It took Kýron a minute to mount the effort to reply. “Meh. I doubt any harm’s been done. You should probably be a little more tight lipped in the future though,” Kýron shrugged.

“You don’t think anyone here would try to tell the people in Minaan about where we are, do you?” She asked.

Kýron chuckled. “How? Do you really think they’re going to try scaling that mountain? Sending a letter means going the long way around and that should take two weeks easy. By the time they could get here, we’ll be long gone.”

“So we’re really safe?” She asked.

“I wouldn’t go that far. Safety is often an illusion in my experience,” Kýron replied, glancing at his sword and satchel which lay in easy reach just outside the bath. “But as far as I can tell, nobody is hunting us right now. So for tonight, I’ll sleep easy for the first time in a week,” Kýron momentarily put his head underwater and tried to scrub some of the dirt out of his hair. He came up with a gasp a few seconds later. With no soap, hair washing was largely futile but it was still a definite improvement. “Do you know where your sister lives?” He asked.

“Not really. I know her husband’s estate is somewhere just outside the capital,” Melinda replied.

“Good enough. We go to the capital and ask for directions then,” Kýron said.

Kýron stretched out contentedly in the bath, letting the water wash off the stress of a frantic week. For a moment, all was peaceful in the world.

“Kýron,” Melinda said in a voice just above a whisper. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something: When you told me about my guards betraying me, you never brought up my family. Thank you for that. I wasn’t ready to think about it. And I certainly didn’t need any distractions while we were trying to climb down the mountain.”

Kýron cocked his head, his expression growing sad. “I see that you have been thinking about it,” He murmured.

“How can I not? Why was I sold to Minaan? I’d like to think that my personal guards, whom I always trusted with my life, had simply fallen into corruption and taken a bribe to betray me, but that’s not the most likely possibility is it?”

“No, I’m afraid it’s not. Bribing a whole company of men is a fool’s errand. It just takes one person with scruples or dissatisfied with their share of the pay to sell everyone out to the authorities,” Kýron agreed quietly.

“Then logically that means they were ordered to bring me to Minaan. There are only a few people with the authority to issue that command and make them obey. Chief among them, of course, is my father,” Melinda said just above a whisper.

Kýron’s lips flattened. “What is the relationship like between Florin and Minaan these days?” He asked.

“Tense,” She answered in a shaky voice. “The rebellion in Florin may be winding down but it still saps our strength. And Minaan would be a fool if it did not take advantage of our turmoil to seize the disputed lands and perhaps to acquire some new territory. I had wondered why they did not. Perhaps they were promised something more… interesting in exchange,” Her voice turned bitter.

Kýron’s mind spun but he couldn’t think of anything comforting to say. He decided to change the subject. “What about Jessica?”

Melinda took a ragged breath. “Jessica loves me. I have no doubts about that whatsoever. She will never turn me over to Minaan,” Melinda said confidently.

“Good. That means you know you’re going somewhere safe until you can sort out the conspirators in this mess,” Kýron encouraged her. “Although, whatever the people back home tell you, I don’t think I’d be comfortable heading back to Florin anytime soon.”

“I’m not altogether certain that I can ever go back,” Melinda whispered.

“Well, maybe not so long as that pig is on the throne, but he can’t be very young can he?”

“Kýron, in spite of everything that’s happened, I must ask you to please not speak of my father in such a fashion,” Melinda said formally with a small catch in her voice.

Kýron was silent a moment. “I was referring to the King of Minaan,” He said apologetically.

There was a hitch in Melinda’s breathing and Kýron heard the sound of quiet sobbing.

Kýron was momentarily tempted to slip around the dividers and hold Melinda until she had cried herself out, but considering the fact that they were both naked, he doubted this action would be well received. “We can’t choose our parents,” Kýron said quietly. “But sometimes we’re lucky enough to find families of our own choosing. What is Jessica like?”

Melinda cried for another minute and then seemed to pull herself together a bit. “Jessica is beautiful.”

“Nice! Can I get an introduction? Oh wait, you said she was already married,” Kýron said in mock disappointment.

Melinda laughed through her tears. “Jessica was ten years older than me. She was always the one to make my brothers behave when they pulled my hair or stole my toys. She was married to a Duke in Calabri when I was eight and I cried for weeks. But she promised me that we’d write to each other every month and we’ve done that without fail since she left.”

“I’m assuming this was an arranged marriage. Was she on board with the whole thing?” Kýron asked.

Melinda sighed. “At the time, I was too young to understand that Jessica had no choice but to marry him but she seemed happy enough. They got along well.”

“I doubt I could ever do that,” Kýron said with a chuckle. “I never was very good at following orders.”

“If it’s the way you’ve been raised then you know nothing else,” Melinda replied sadly.

Kýron thought about how to get the conversation on a more positive track. Melinda sounded like she was ready to break down into tears again. “Well, I guess you’re safe from that fate for the moment at least. I doubt your sister will immediately try to marry you off when you get to her home. She’ll probably give you a day or two,” Kýron in a mocking tone.

Melinda chuckled then was silent for a moment. “What will you do after we arrive at Jessica’s estate?” Melinda asked.

“Me? I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. Probably spend some time in the capital tending to the sick and making some money before I move on.”

“…I… I really can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done,” Melinda whispered. “If not for you, I’d either be dead or praying for death right now. You risked everything to help me,” She paused. “I’m sure that my sister will reward you handsomely for all that you’ve done.” She added awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it, Mel. I’m not really looking for a reward.”

“No, you’re really not, are you? I thought about that when we were coming down the mountain,” She said in almost a tone of wonder.

“Thought about what?”

“When we met, I assumed that I could reward you handsomely for your aid, but you knew better. From the start, you knew you weren’t saving a princess, you were rescuing a pauper whose family had abandoned her. You knew that I was the babe cast to the proverbial starving wolf and that no one in my family even wanted me back. I kept promising you a huge reward for saving me that you knew I would never be able to pay and yet you rescued me anyway,” Melinda said.

“Honestly, I thought all your talk about rewards was pretty funny,” Kýron quipped. “It kept me amused during our escape.”

Melinda laughed.

“Don’t worry about rewards, Mel. I saved you because I wanted to save you and for no other reason. I’m not a man who’s usually motivated by being money.”

Melinda was quiet for a moment. “I assumed that a huge reward was the standard reason why anyone would risk their lives to rescue a foolish princess in distress.”

Kýron chuckled. “Actually, the standard reason would be because she has a nice rack and a good figure that said person wants to get his hands on.”

Melinda made a choking sound. “Kýron… I-” Her voice rattled.

“Don’t panic, Mel!” He laughed. “I was just making a joke. But no, I didn’t save you because I expected to get anything out of it. Nobody who sells a princess to a degenerate like that King is going to be pleased to have her returned. Honestly, getting a reward never even entered into my mind.”

Melinda was silent for a long time. “You act like a knight.”

“Actually, I act like a doctor. I don’t like to see people in pain,” Kýron replied. He paused. “Why? Do most knights in Florin act like this?”

“None of them do,” She answered. “I meant that you act like a knight from the story books I read as a girl. The brave and selfless heroes we tell our men to aspire to be. If any of the knights from Florin had rescued me, they would already be debating what title and how much land they could demand in compensation.”

“Really? They wouldn’t just expect to marry you?” Kýron asked.

“That only happens in fairy tales,” Melinda replied dismissively.

“Shame. I always liked those stories. I doubt I’ll ever be able to read them again with any sense of satisfaction,” Kýron sighed in mock sorrow.

“A princess’s hand in marriage is too important to be given as a reward, we’re needed to solidify important treaties and alliances,” She paused. “Although, depending on how I was betrayed, perhaps I am not as important to the kingdom or to my family as I once thought,” She finished quietly.

Kýron wasn’t sure what to say to that. He got up out of the bath with a stretch. “Well, time for bed I think!” He said, cheerfully grabbing his satchel and sword and putting on a fluffy white robe that was hanging from the wall.

“You can go ahead, I think I’ll stay here a bit longer,” Melinda said in a morose voice.

Kýron frowned. He definitely didn’t want to leave her here alone and let her brood on her troubles right now. “Nope! Bedtime! We have a long day tomorrow. Actually, we probably have a couple of long days coming so you either get out or I’m coming in after you!” He said cheerfully. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a hairbrush, trying to straighten out his mane of hair.

There was a moment of shocked silence. “You wouldn’t dare!” She said.

“Mel, would you care to rephrase that statement in the terms of a wager?” Kýron asked, fighting to pull the brush through the snarled hair.

Kýron heard Mel standing up in the bath. “Very well, I’m getting out of the bath. You look the other way until I get my robe on!” She demanded.

“No problem,” Kýron said, turning his back to the pool. “Although if you recall, I already got a pretty good peak up there on the mountain.”

“Be silent! And we shall never speak of that incident again!” Melinda proclaimed.

“OK,” Kýron yawned. He heard Melinda climbing out of the pool and her wet footsteps padding across the stone floor.

“Alright, I’m decent,” Melinda said.

Kýron turned around to see a somewhat indignant Melinda standing there in a white robe glowering at him with folded arms but that was fine as far as Kýron was concerned: Annoyed was much better than depressed.

“Want to borrow my brush?” Kýron offered cheerfully. “Your hair looks like a rat’s nest.”

Melinda’s jaw dropped and and she threw her hands down to her sides and balled her fists. “How can you be so infuriating?” She stalked over to him and grabbed the brush out of his hands.

“Natural talent, I guess,” Kýron said with another yawn.

----------------------------------------

Their room was on the second floor was small but clean and there were two beds waiting for them.

“Imagine how many people would be in this room during the caravan season,” Kýron mused yawning.

“Two?” Melinda asked in confusion.

“No, I mean during the caravan season when all the teamsters come here because the weather is nice enough to ship all that ore down to the capital,” Kýron explained.

“There’d be two people in the room because there’s only two beds,” Melinda said matter of fact.

Kýron glanced at her incredulously. “Moving right along,” He sighed. “Anyway, we should get some sleep. I’m hoping to be up and have a hot breakfast and then get on the road early in the morning,” Kýron said, hanging up his robe by the bed.

Melinda quickly glanced away as Kýron slipped into bed although Kýron himself seemed indifferent to being naked in front of her. She waited until Kýron was facing the other way in bed before removing her own robe and slipping under the covers. “And where to then?” She asked. “Are we going to the capital or to Tojo?”

“Good question,” Kýron replied in a sleepy voice. “We’ll have to check the map in the morning and judge the distance. I’d love to buy a ride to the capital if Tojo isn’t that far away. That guy said it would be a day or two but I don’t remember how far away the capital is from here. There’s not much point in walking two days in the wrong direction to hitch a ride on a four day journey.”

“No I suppose not,” Melinda said. She leaned out of bed to blow out the lantern on the nightstand between them.

Melinda lay in the dark silently for a moment. “Kýron, do you really think you’ll go to the capital after we get to Jessica’s estate?”

“I don’t know for sure what I’ll do yet,” Kýron admitted. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll figure out something. I always make do.”

“I’m sure you could stay with us for a time. Jessica would certainly extend you hospitality after all that you’ve done,” Melinda suggested.

“I’m… not sure that would be wise,” Kýron replied.

Melinda sighed.

It was quiet for a moment.

“I actually wish you would stay. Aside from Jessica, you’re the only person I can trust right now. That means a great deal to me. Would you consider staying a few weeks?” Melinda pleaded.

Kýron hesitated then coughed. “I think that would be very dangerous. I remember telling you that the kingdom of Minaan wants me dead.”

“You did, but I recall you declined to say why,” Melinda replied.

“Did I? How careless of me,” Kýron said in a dour voice. “Anyway, I’m worried that if Minaan found out that I was at Jessica’s home, they might try and make trouble for you and your sister.”

Melinda bolted upright in her bed, clutching the covers around her to preserve her modesty. “You don’t think they would come after us in Calabri do you? That would be an act of war!” She said, suddenly contemplating a whole new danger.

“Calm down, Mel,” Kýron said with a sigh. “Trust me, they don’t want you that badly.”

“Then what are you worried about?” She asked, lying back down.

Melinda watched Kýron lay in bed, his face turned to the wall. He was quiet for a moment. “I’m worried that if Minaan found out that I was at Jessica’s, they might tell Calabri about me and let Calabri handle the matter for them.”

Melinda stared at Kýron in astonishment. “Do you realize how long Calabri and Minaan have been enemies? Why would Calabri do anything because Minaan asked them to? If Minaan wants you dead for some reason then Calabri by rights should offer you a medal!”

“That might be true in normal circumstances but in this case, I’m afraid that Calabri might be more than happy to hunt me down for them,” Kýron replied matter-of-fact, still not looking at her.

Melinda just stared at him and shook her head in disbelief. “Kýron, what did you do? What crime could you have committed that would persuade ancient enemies to set aside their conflict and join forces against you?”

Kýron didn’t answer.

“Kýron, talk to me!” Melinda demanded. “I know you! You are a good person! You have the makings of a hero! Why would anyone want you dead?”

He still didn’t answer.

Melinda took a deep breath. “Kýron, I consider you my dear friend, something I have very few of. If you have any kind of problem at all, then I wish to help you with it. Let’s talk about this honestly and try to find a solution together.”

Kýron sighed. “Mel, this isn’t something you can fix. It’s really for the best if you don’t know anything about it. That way if someone asks you later, you can honestly say that you didn’t know.”

“Kýron…” Melinda murmured.

“Really, you should just let it drop, Mel,” Kýron muttered. “There’s no way that this ends well for you. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

Melinda lay back down and pensively stared at the ceiling. Tired as she was, sleep did not come readily to her that night. Her mind was fixated on Kýron and the problems that she apparently couldn’t help him with.

And Melinda knew from the lack of snoring that Kýron wasn’t sleeping either.

----------------------------------------

“I am exhausted,” Melinda mourned as they approached the large estate. “This cross country march was worse than the mountain!”

“Yes, because no one carried you this time,” Kýron murmured under his breath.

“Pardon?” Melinda asked in confusion.

“Oh nothing,” Kýron replied with a sigh. “So this is your sister’s house? It looks very… tidy.” Kýron said, glancing around. He’d been expecting a large plantation or some other form of farming establishment but the estate was a massive house situated on immaculately groomed lawns and substantial gardens. Kýron wondered if anyone did any actual work around here beyond maintaining the estate itself.

“I hope this is it,” Melinda admitted. “I’ve never been here before and that peddler who gave us directions didn’t seem to be the most reliable.”

As they approached the manor house, a man emerged from behind the massive doors. He wore a butler’s uniform and white gloves too clean to have been put to any use. “I’m sorry but you will need to beg elsewhere. The master is not dispensing alms to the poor today,” He sniffed.

“Beg?” Melinda objected.

“We didn’t have a chance to find you new clothes on the trip,” Kýron reminded her.

Melinda glanced down at the peasant clothing she wore, torn and tattered from the mountain crossing. Melinda flushed, apparently just now realizing how she looked in them.

She cleared her throat and drew herself up to her full height. “Please inform the Lady Jessica Wiz that her sister Melinda has come to pay a visit.”

The man stared at them. “Are you mad?”

“I’m getting there,” Kýron muttered at the man with active dislike.

“Do you truly expect me to believe that you are related to the mistress?” The man asked.

Melinda’s face flushed but she did not break her poise. “I am Princess Melinda Fizer Wiz of Florin. I have but recently escaped from being held captive by Minaan and have arrived here only through numerous perils. My appearance was the very least of my concerns. Please inform your mistress that I am here and permit her to decide what to do about me.”

The man sniffed. “I am not going to bother the mistress with your ludicrous story. Depart immediately or I’ll-”

“Melinda!” A voice from a second floor balcony cried out.

By the time Kýron looked up to see who had spoken, they had already disappeared and from within the house there were sounds of rapid descent from the second floor. A woman emerged from the door wearing an elaborate red gown so heavy and filly that Kýron wondered how she could even move in it. Her hair was lighter than Melinda’s but her features left no doubt of their relation.

“Jessica!” Melinda cried, flinging herself into her sister’s arms.

“Melinda!” Jessica replied as the two clung to one another, weeping.

The fussy butler looked very worried at this sight as if realizing that he had stuck his foot in it. Kýron gave him a chill look and with an audible swallow the butler bustled off, suddenly remembering he had an urgent task to be completed somewhere else.

“Oh, Melinda!” Jessica sobbed, caressing her sister’s face. “I haven’t slept in days! I heard that you were captured by Minaan and I feared the worst!”

“I was,” Melinda whimpered, also crying. “But I was rescued by my dear friend Kýron,” Melinda said, gesturing to him. “He saved my life at considerable risk to his own.”

Jessica glanced behind her sister, seeming to notice Kýron standing there for the first time.

“My lady,” Kýron said, making a formal bow. Melinda was shocked to see that Kýron could perform a courtly bow quite gracefully when so motivated.

Kýron noticed Melinda’s shocked expression. “What? I wasn’t always a drifter, you know,” He replied dryly.

“Master Kýron,” Jessica said, sinking into a deep and reverential curtsy. “You have my and my family’s eternal gratitude for your heroism. You shall always be considered a great friend to our house.”

“Oh, please don’t do that,” Kýron said, gesturing her to rise.

“After all you’ve done for Melinda, the very least I can do is show you honor, Master Kýron” Jessica replied with a smile, still holding her curtsy.

“No, literally, please don’t do that. You’re standing on the stairs right now and I’m afraid that if you try to bow any lower you’re going to fall!” Kýron said in a worried voice. “I’m a doctor and my mind is racing trying to think of all the bones you could break!”

Jessica and Melinda both laughed at this and Jessica caught her sister in another tight embrace.

“Please, come inside, both of you. I’ll have food prepared and we’ll discuss your journey. I want to hear everything,” Jessica said, taking her sister’s arm. “Also, perhaps we can find some better clothes for you,” She tittered at her sister.

“I still have your dress in my satchel if you want it,” Kýron murmured, walking behind them.

----------------------------------------

“-And then we came here.” Melinda finished, reclining back on the sofa cushions. Melinda was now wearing an extremely frilly and ornate black and crimson dress that Jessica had provided.

Kýron sat near the sisters, nibbling on the fruits and crackers that the servants had served. He didn’t say much as Melinda told the story, only occasionally interjecting to point out Melinda’s considerable courage and fortitude during their escape. Melinda had attempted to give him all the credit which Kýron had refused to accept.

Jessica had looked at her sister with a pensive expression after the story ended. “Melinda,” She began doubtfully. She hesitated and then continued. “I’m overjoyed to see you. It seems it was just… my exceptionally good fortune that you came here rather than attempting to return home.” This statement was not quite a question.

Melinda’s face became stricken and she glanced at Kýron for a moment who nodded.

“Kýron,” She hesitated then started again. “Kýron, suggested that… perhaps my returning to Florin would not be my best option at the current time.”

“Wise of him,” Jessica murmured.

“Do you know what happened?” Melinda asked.

Jessica shook her head. “No. Not for certain,” She hedged, “But I do think it would be wise for you to make your stay here a protracted one,” She finished sadly.

Melinda’s eyes filled with tears and she turned her face away.

Kýron reached out to comfort her then hesitated. He glanced at Jessica and gesturing her forward.

Jessica obediently took the weeping princess in her arms and as Melinda buried her face in Jessica’s shoulder, Jessica gave Kýron a quizzical look.

Kýron didn’t respond and simply took another grape, glancing away from the ladies to give them some privacy.

A few minutes later, Melinda had pulled herself back together. “My apologies for that unsightly display,” Melinda said in a rough voice to no one in particular. “It has been a terribly long week.”

“Of course, it has,” Jessica replied, sympathetically. She glanced at Kýron. “Now, Master Kýron,” She said formally, “I’d like to hear more about the hero who rescued my sister from a fate worse than death.”

“Not much to tell,” Kýron replied. “I’m a doctor who wasn’t terribly welcome in Minaan so I decided to leave it. I stumbled over Melinda and decided she would make good company during my escape so I rescued her. What can I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Melinda giggled.

Jessica gave him a steady look. “Most people would be playing up their heroism. You’re the first person I’ve ever met who plays it down.”

“It adds to my charm,” He replied with a chuckle.

Jessica cocked her head. “Well, you have earned an enormous debt of gratitude from myself and… my family,” She hesitated. “If there is anything you want, ask and it shall be yours.”

Kýron shrugged. “The gratitude is more than ample. I don’t need anything else.”

From the look on her face, Jessica seemed to be getting more and more confused by Kýron’s disinterest in rewards and accolades.

“Kýron, I would greatly appreciate it if you would remain here for a time,” Melinda said. “Proven friends to me are in very short supply right now and your company would bring me comfort.”

Kýron’s gaze flickered between Jessica and Melinda. “I’m not sure if that would be wise,” He hedged.

“Oh but I insist,” Jessica replied. Her voice was decidedly cool. “You simply must stay with us for a few days at least and enjoy our hospitality.”

Kýron hesitated then seemed to give in. “I’m… touched,” He replied.

----------------------------------------

The rest of the afternoon continued very much like this with the sisters reconnecting and attempting to involve Kýron in the conversation with limited success. During the evening, Jessica’s husband, a much older gentleman named Franz returned home. The Duke was bald and gray-haired but he seemed very good natured and he clearly doted on his wife, welcoming Melinda with open-arms as a sister and praising Kýron’s courage.

Dinner was an impromptu feast with a wide variety of foods that Kýron couldn’t recognize, prepared in ways that he found completely foreign.

Sometime after dinner, when Melinda and her relatives were busy discussing the complex and opaque politics of Florin, Kýron managed to sneak out onto a balcony. He took a moment to ensure that no one was watching and then he took out his Amulet. As he pressed the button and the amulet split open. Its many runes began to whirl around the central face as Kýron waved it through the air. The arms that led ‘est’ pointed toward a gateway further south east. The Amulet didn’t offer any way to precisely judge distance but going by how bright that arm glowed and the speed in which the rune ring moved, Kýron guessed it wasn’t more than a day or two’s travel in that direction.

Kýron sighed, juggling his options as he slipped the precious Amulet back into his satchel. Alright. It’s really too late for me to leave tonight.

Kýron rubbed his forehead. Worse, it’d be incredibly rude and even hurtful to Melinda. She won’t understand why I’m so reluctant to remain here for any length of time.

Tomorrow morning is probably best for my departure. Melinda will still be upset but I’ll just have to deal with that. I’ve only been here one night. If anyone investigates, the fact that I was here could still be concealed. Calabri and Minaan might be enemies but I’m not dumb enough to think that they won’t communicate and coordinate about mutual threats. As far as they’re concerned, a blood mage is a threat to everyone and while Melinda and I have disappeared for the moment, Melinda’s reappearance won’t remain a secret for long. Anyone in Minaan who knew that a blood mage was associated with Melinda’s rescue will quickly put the facts together.

Rescued? Maybe the authorities will think that she escaped on her own?

Kýron thought about it then shook his head. Nah. Probably not. As far as I can tell, Mel had shown no sign of trying to escape before and the odds of her attempting an escape just as the soldiers came down with a completely unrelated case of food poisoning strains credulity. Beyond that, those soldiers’ continued good health hinges entirely on them convincing their superiors that they had been sabotaged by a malicious agent of some kind and that Mel’s escape wasn’t just the result of their own carelessness so I need to factor that into my calculations as well.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Can they put those facts together? Maybe I didn’t leave enough of a trail to link me to Melinda. I might be exaggerating the risk of the folks at the inn remembering me as a doctor, connecting me to Melinda and then somebody linking that to the blood mage from the slums. It might not happen…

He sighed. Who am I kidding? As soon as word gets out that the blood mage in the slums was working as a doctor, they’ll make the link immediately. Even a cursory investigation will reveal that a doctor was at the inn right before Mel’s escape and that he brought the food out to the soldiers right before they got sick.

If only I hadn’t been dumb enough to treat that old man’s limp! I be dealing with any of these problems!

Kýron bit his lip, trying not to scream in frustration. Why do I always fuck things up so badly for everyone around me?!

Kýron took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. OK. So the odds of Minaan not leaping to the conclusion that their demon had been involved in Melinda’s escape are slim at best. And Minaan will definitely inform Calabri of this fact.

Kýron’s eyes widened. Holy shit. Minaan might even try to play their cards to argue that Melinda should be turned back over to them for questioning about ‘the demon’s’ evil plans! Calabri may not be friendly with Minaan but I doubt that they’ll be particularly eager to give asylum to a wayward princess that her own parents had sold off! Handing her over to Minaan, or at least giving her back to Florin which would functionally be the same thing, would remove a political headache for Calabri and score them points with the other nations!

Kýron rubbed his forehead, moaning. Alright. It looks like maybe Calabri isn’t going to be as safe for Melinda as I hoped and that’s all my fault. So. Where does this leave me? Should I tell Melinda to find a ship and sail across the sea?

Then what? She’s a princess! She doesn’t have any trades or skills to speak of and the idea of her bringing a dowry at this point is laughable. The only other option I can think of is to let her come with me through the next Gateway but that’s also impractical.

I’d be inviting her to a world that I know nothing about. It could be another barren wasteland or a world in the midst of a civil war for all I know. Even if the next world is a friendly place, Melinda’s prospects for a safe and stable life there are no better than if she just sailed across the sea. She might be able to travel with me for a while but my journey is of unknown duration and scope. Will she follow me for decades across a hundred worlds? What kind of life is that for a princess?

Kýron rubbed his face, growling at himself. This shit always happens to me. I was only trying to help Mel out. How did I managed to screw up everything this badly again?!

The part of this that really gnaws at me is that this entire mess is all due to me instinctively healing that old man’s leg! If I’d just ignored it then it’s more than likely that no one in Minaan would ever have linked me to Melinda at all! Melinda would be here and she’d be completely safe!

Kýron shook his head. I’m starting to think that, rather than just leaving first thing in the morning, I’ll probably need to explain the whole situation to Mel, Jessica, and her husband so they can make preparations to ensure Melinda’s safety.

Of course, once I tell them the truth, I’ll need to be ready to run for my life immediately and try to get as big of a head start as I can before… whomever is responsible for keeping the peace in Calabri shows up. The notion that Jessica or her husband will be the least bit sympathetic to my situation is almost funny. And I don’t even want to think about how Melinda will react…

No, the alarm will go out immediately and I’ll be right back where I started before I left the capitol city in Minaan…

Kýron debated spilling the beans right now. I mean, the idea has some merits. I’d be harder to track in the dark, especially since the pursuers will have no idea which way I’m going but I can rely on my amulet to guide me straight to the Gateway. It’ll probably take longer for an alarm to reach the authorities at night as well.

On the downside, I’m still absolutely exhausted after the past few days and I really need another good night’s sleep before I go running for my life. Also, my supplies are pretty much all gone and I’ll have a hard time refilling them in the middle of the night. I won’t have time for a shopping trip tomorrow either but it’s not impossible, if I can get just far enough ahead of my pursuers, that I’ll find a merchant or a peddler or even just some farmer willing to sell me some food before I jump through the Gateway and into an uncertain future.

Kýron was still debating his options when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Oh, here you are!” Jessica said cheerfully but Kýron noticed her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Melinda was standing right behind her, looking relaxed for the first time since Kýron had met her. “We were looking for you. Are you about ready to call it a night, Master Kýron?”

With Kýron’s stance on his options still undecided, he yielded to external pressure with a sigh and nodded to Jessica.

“Wonderful! I’ll show you to your rooms!” Jessica said, leading the way back into the house and up a winding staircase.

Kýron walked behind Melinda and noticed that she was somewhat wobbly as she climbed. She’s probably not used to the kind of elaborate gowns and platform shoes that appear to be in style around here, Kýron mused.

As he watched, Melinda took another step up the stairs and made a startled exclamation as she felt her foot slip out from under her.

Kýron grabbed her from behind and caught her in his arms.

Melinda went limp against him with a giggle. “Kýron, you always seem to be on hand to save me, friend-at-need.”

He could smell the wine on her breath and he heard Jessica heave a sigh.

“At least tonight we won’t have to sleep on top of each other,” Melinda said with a titter as she regained her footing.

Kýron closed his eyes with a pained expression and he felt more than saw Jessica’s face grow shadowed at Melinda’s comment. Without a word, Jessica continued to lead them upstairs.

“Melinda, these will be your rooms for as long as you remain with us,” Jessica said, leading them into a large well furnished bedroom with a bed that could comfortably hold six.

Kýron waited outside in the hall.

“Thank you, sister,” Melinda embraced Jessica.

“Of course. I hope that you’ll stay here as long as you want,” She soothed Melinda. “I’d be grateful if you’d stay forever. Your company would fill my days.”

“Well, I suppose I don’t really have anywhere else to go,” Melinda said with a giggle that ended in a strangled croak.

Jessica patted her sister’s back until she calmed herself.

“Goodnight, Jessica. Goodnight, Kýron. I will see you in the morning,” Melinda said, settling down on the bed.

“Goodnight,” Kýron waved as Jessica closed the door.

“Your room is right down this way,” Jessica said in a neutral voice.

“Thank you,” Kýron replied distantly. I’m guessing that it’s normally considered an honor and a mark of high favor for the lady of the house to show you to your bed herself but I’m pretty sure that’s not why she’s doing this…

She led him down the hall, past many other empty bedrooms. Kýron had the suspicion that she wanted him as far from her sister as possible. He might have been offended except for the fact that Jessica was entirely right to be worried that he was a threat to Melinda, even if she was worried for completely the wrong reasons.

“This is where you can sleep,” Jessica said, gesturing into a very fine room at the end of the hall.

“Thank you,” Kýron replied, walking in.

Jessica did not bid him a good night and depart. She watched him as he sat down on the bed and took his satchel from around his shoulder.

Kýron observed her but volunteered nothing, waiting for her to make the next move.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Jessica said in a neutral voice.

“Asking is free,” Kýron replied.

Jessica looked at him sharply. “What are your intentions toward my sister?”

“I intended to save her from torture and death,” Kýron replied. “Having accomplished that, my ‘intentions’ toward her are concluded.”

Jessica frowned at him. “And how does my sister feel about you?” She asked after a moment.

“You’d have to ask her about that,” Kýron replied. “If she has any feelings for me beyond those of a traveling companion and benefactor, she did not make me aware of them,” He added.

Kýron assumed that would end the conversation but Jessica continued to study him. “You rescued my sister from certain death, at considerable risk to yourself, and yet you claim to have no romantic attachment to her and you’ve also refused all offers of reward for your efforts. Why then did you even become involved?”

“I guess I thought that a girl shouldn’t have to die just to amuse a fat old king. Is that motivation really so unbelievable?” He asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

“Melinda also told me that you feared your presence might put her in danger,” Jessica let the words hang in the air.

Kýron didn’t reply or elaborate. He sat there expressionless.

Jessica cocked her head. “I am Jessica Sona Van Wiz. I am a daughter of kings. I long ago learned that rarely is anything free and seldom are actions undertaken for reasons of nobility or altruism except when the true purpose is being concealed.”

“Ah. I didn’t realize I was supposed to be a greedy and conniving little bastard. You see, I didn’t have the benefits of a royal upbringing so I’m subject to these little lapses,” Kýron replied.

Jessica made no reply but silently closed the door and departed without bidding him goodnight.

Kýron rubbed his forehead. By the Lady! My life continues to become more and more complicated! Even though I haven’t told them the truth yet, Jessica is already certain that my actions just have to be motivated by personal gain of some kind and she’s only becoming more suspicious as she searches for my motivations and can’t unravel them!

I’m starting to wish that I’d just accepted some trifling sum and departed. By now, everyone might have already put me out of their minds…

Instead, Jessica is regarding me as an ever more potent threat to her sister and her family and her mind is probably spinning wild webs of elaborate conspiracy as she tries to divine my purpose. I’m determined to leave in the morning but now I’m starting to wonder if I’ll even be permitted to leave until Jessica has completed her investigation!

Sneaking out tonight is an option, Kýron mused, looking out the bedroom window. However, a field-hand marching through the surrounding fields with a lantern quickly put that idea to rest. Huh. I’m guessing that Jessica ordered her servants to keep watch just in case I tried to escape.

Kýron saw several more field-hands wandering through the fields at precisely measured distances to ensure that there were no holes in the defense. Kýron had to begrudgingly admit that Jessica, or her plump and jolly-looking husband, certainly knew what they were doing.

Wait… are they on guard for me or could they be trying to prevent Melinda from escaping until the forces of Minaan or Florin arrive to recapture her?!

Kýron mulled the possibility over but he dismissed the idea almost immediately. Jessica is either a superb actress or she genuinely cares for her sister and she’s clearly too clever not to notice if her husband was scheming something behind her back.

Alright. So that suggests that those field-hands are specifically watching for me and that they intend to keep me here in this gilded cage until Jessica is certain that no trouble will come from me. That’s an analysis that could take months to complete. Or things might be even worse and word from Minaan about ‘the demon’ arrived ahead of us. If that’s the case, Jessica might already be aware that Mel was traveling in the company of a blood mage and she’s just holding me here until reinforcements can arrive!

Kýron considered the idea but quickly dismissed this line of thought also. If Jessica expected battle and black magic from me, she would have put me in a guest house somewhere out on the property, not just down the hall from her husband and sister. If a fight breaks out in the main house, they would both be at risk of being caught in the crossfire.

Kýron watched the field-hands patrol for a few moments. These guards might just be field-hands but they seem to know what they’re doing. Sneaking by them tonight seems pretty unrealistic. Fighting my way out is an option. I doubt these guys are professional fighters. I could probably just overpower one or use my magic to take down the group but that also has problems. Calling on the magic always has a price and I’ll be sickened and weakened during my escape.

Kýron shook his head and lay back on the large soft bed. He had too many problems to deal with right now. Finally concluding that nothing could be done until morning, he resolved to indulge in some restorative sleep and hoped the morning presented new options.

----------------------------------------

Kýron came downstairs as soon as he woke up, making certain to take his satchel and blade with him. I want to be ready for a speedy departure. This probably won’t go very well…

Before leaving his room, he glanced out the window and noted that the field hands were no longer patrolling outside. That was one problem removed anyway.

He found Jessica and Melinda at a large table eating breakfast, waited on by a few servants.

“Good morning, Kýron!” Melinda said cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Jessica said, offering him a smile that did not reach her eyes.

“What do you think we should do today, Kýron?” Melinda said, looking completely relaxed. “I’ve never been to the capital of Calabri except when we reached the outskirts to ask for directions. Perhaps today the two of us could do a bit of sight seeing.”

“I think that would be difficult today,” Jessica murmured.

Kýron rolled his eyes. Jessica is worried that if we go to the capitol, I’ll try to slip away so she intends to keep me close by where she can prevent my escape by force if necessary.

This woman has no idea how far out of her depth she really is in dealing with me…

“Actually, I’m sorry, Mel, but I do need to leave this morning. I’ve gotten you somewhere safe which is honestly more than I hoped for when we met, now it’s time for me to move on,” He replied in a tone of regret.

“Oh no!” Melinda said looking stricken. “Please don’t leave just yet.”

“Yes. You simply must remain,” Jessica said in a chill voice. “I really must insist.”

“Lady,” He snapped. “You are drastically overestimating what I am going to permit you to insist upon.”

The cold words sent the entire room into shock. It was entirely possible that such impolite words had never been uttered in this room, certainly not directed toward the mistress of the household. Kýron was done playing games. The longer he was here, the more danger Melinda might find herself in.

Jessica seemed momentarily at a loss for words and Kýron dismissed her from mind. “Mel, I’m sorry. My being here has the very real chance of putting you in danger. I didn’t go through all the effort of getting you out of Minaan safely to see you get hurt now.”

“Kýron,” Melinda said, seemingly on the verge of tears. “Why-”

“Mistress,” The fussy butler from yesterday entered the room. “Captain Tauxaball of the Guard wishes to speak to you immediately.”

Jessica looked at Kýron sharply who returned her gaze with a bland and bored look.

“Very well,” Jessica said, rising to her feet. “Tomas, please keep our guest entertained,” She said meaningfully.

The butler looked at Kýron and fidgeted. He clearly understood that he was meant to restrain Kýron if he decided to become troublesome, however Tomas was unarmed and Kýron did carry a sword.

Kýron’s lips tightened. He supposed he didn’t know for a fact that the captain was here to ask about him. The guard could be here for any number of reasons. Maybe Jessica’s husband was a counterfeiter or had exposed his buttocks to whatever authority controlled the realm.

Kýron shook his head, there was optimism and then there was utter foolishness.

“Kýron, what’s going on?” Melinda whispered.

Kýron blinked, realizing that Melinda had hurried over to him and was sitting beside him looking anxious.

Kýron frowned, debating what to say or even if he should say anything.

Melinda’s face was set. Even without saying a word, she clearly conveyed that she was demanding answers and at this point, she felt that she deserved them.

Kýron shook his head. Why did his life suck so bad?

“Mel, you remember how I said that Minaan wanted me dead?” He whispered.

She nodded.

“Well, that’s because I’m a sorcerer,” He deadpanned.

The blood drained from Melinda’s face and she drew away from him.

Kýron sighed. “I was working as a doctor in Minaan, a group of soldiers were assaulting a street urchin for disrespecting some noble. They were threatening to lynch him on the spot so I used my magic to scare the hell out of them so the kid could get away. Then I ran for my life.”

Melinda’s eyes were huge as she stared at Kýron. Her mouth moved but no sound escaped.

Kýron shook his head. “Look, just tell them the truth: You didn’t know about it. They can’t blame you for what I did.”

Kýron looked out though the dining room windows. Escaping through the front door seemed pretty unrealistic at this point since he assumed there was a troop of guards waiting there. That meant he’d probably need to jump through the window. He hated doing that, it hurt. At least moving in the general direction of the Gateway would lead him through a maze of sculpted bushes and shrubberies. That would give him some cover while he ran.

“What are you going to do?” Melinda whispered.

“At the moment, I’m leaning heavily toward fleeing,” Kýron murmured.

“But to where? Minaan and Calabri are already both pursuing you. Florin would be no refuge,” Melinda said in horror. “Do you plan to take a ship over the sea?”

“I plan to leave this world behind,” Kýron replied.

Melinda stared at him as if he’d gone mad.

Kýron sighed. “I have a talisman that opens Gateways to other worlds. I just need to reach a Gateway and I can vanish like a bad dream.”

Melinda blinked. “I had heard of such powers being used in the old days of the Imperium,” She admitted. “But I always assumed that they were myth or at least that such powers were now lost. Where are you going to go?”

“There’s a gateway about a day’s journey to the south east. I have absolutely no idea where it leads,” He replied.

“But are you certain you’ll be safe on the new world?”

“I’m not safe on any world, Mel,” Kýron said with grim laughter. “I’ve only been on this world for about three weeks and I’m already running for my life. That’s a pretty standard length of time. This has been the way I have lived my life for decades.”

“You just… leap from world to world escaping from people who want to kill you?” She asked. Kýron knew that he was imagining it but for a moment, he thought that Melinda actually sounded sorry for him.

“Partially. The real reason I keep traveling is because I’m looking for my people,” Kýron explained.

Melinda opened her mouth to ask another question but Kýron shook his head. “We’re running out of time, Mel. If the soldiers come in here looking for me I want you to get as far away from me as you can. I won’t risk you getting hurt. If they ask you about me just tell them the truth: you didn’t know about my magic and you never saw me using any magic. They shouldn’t have any reasons to want to blame you.”

Melinda stared at him, conflicting emotions running over her face. “Will I ever see you again?” She asked.

Kýron looked at her, his face twisting in sympathy. “Probably not, no,” He admitted.

Melinda started to say something but she and Kýron turned to the door as they heard many feet approaching.

At least ten guards armed with bows drawn stood at the entrance to the dining room. Jessica’s face was a mask of terror and horror.

So much for any possibility that this isn’t about me, Kýron thought.

“In the name of the Calabri Senate the demon ‘Kýron’ is sentenced to immediate death,” The captain said with a twisted, savage expression.

I’m always amazed by how much people could hate me without ever meeting me…

Kýron and Melinda stood up. Kýron’s eyes darted around the room looking for options as he reached out to gently push Melinda away from him.

Instead, Melinda abruptly fell toward him with a startled exclamation and Kýron instinctively put his arms around Melinda to steady her.

Melinda looked at the soldiers with wide eyes. “Don’t shoot! Please don’t kill me!” She cried plaintively.

“Melinda!” Jessica screamed and would have rushed forward but the captain threw her back.

“Taking an innocent girl hostage, demon? What kind of diseased scum are you?” The captain demanded.

Kýron looked at Melinda in confusion. The princess gave him a steady look in return as she continued to press against him like a shield.

Kýron sighed. Gods. What a terrible time for Melinda to develop any kind of guile or initiative…

“Don’t let him get away!” The captain declared. “Loose arrows!”

“No!” Jessica screamed.

“Wha-” Melinda gasped as Kýron threw them both under the table as the arrows buzzed overhead striking the wall and breaking the windows.

“Mel, it seems like it’s your fate to continually discover that folks never value your life as much as you assume!” Kýron yelled.

Mel’s face was frozen in a mix of shock and outrage.

Kýron bit his lip. His fear had awakened his magic. It felt like a lover standing just behind him, whispering sweet things in his ear, all desire and need. The magic demanded to be freed, begging to be used. The magic teased him, offered itself to him, master to slave with the roles yet to be determined. It promised that he could command it as he wished and it could give him anything.

Kýron fought back the lying promises and leaped up from beneath the table. He pointed at the guards and triggered his magic.

Dehiscence, Kýron invoked throwing the magic at the guards. This spell had a simple function: it ripped open scars and made them bleed again. It wasn’t all that damaging unless the targets had many large scars but at least it didn’t hurt Kýron too badly when he cast it: Magic always had a price. However, the risk of using this spell was that unless the targets had one or more decent sized scars, it wouldn’t hurt them at all and the only person injured by the spell would be Kýron himself.

It’s a gamble but I’m betting that any professional guard has at least a few big scars.

The magic swirled and pulsed around the guards like crimson mist and then it bit down. Several guards cried out dropping their bows and clutching their limbs as their bodies spontaneously started bleeding. At the same time, Kýron felt a vein rip open in his left arm and begin to bleed. It was shockingly painful but still manageable.

The guards fell back in confusion and Kýron saw his opening. He looked at the frightened Melinda, wanting to explain himself but there was no time.

Kýron shook his head sadly. “Farewell, Melinda,” He whispered before springing to his feet and dashing full speed out of the nearby window.

He threw himself through the glass, covering his face with his arms as best he could. The glass shattered and he plunged out onto the grounds, managing to tuck and roll on the ground and come to his feet running.

Kýron blanched when he realized that the captain had apparently been clever enough to leave a guard outside the house who was blocking Kýron’s escape. This guard was a hulking man in full armor with a drawn sword.

Kýron swore under his breath and drew his tiny, broken sword from its sheath as he rushed toward the guard.

The guard cocked his head in confusion at Kýron’s seemingly suicidal charge. As he ran, Kýron stabbed his sword deep into his own chest.

Kýron bit his lip against screaming in pain.

BloodBlade, Kýron thought, invoking the magic. His wound burned like searing fire and Kýron had to fight to pull his sword out of his chest. It was like trying to uproot a tough, old shrub whose roots where deep and gripping the earth tenaciously. But in this case, the “shrub’s roots” were actually Kýron’s veins.

Kýron finally managed to rip the blade free of his chest with a loud tearing sound. The pain was staggering but Kýron forced himself on. Now his sword was three feet long with a blade made of rippling, churning blood. Kýron threw himself at the guard, blade raised.

The guard staggered and frantically brought his sword up. Kýron aimed at his sword, deliberately not attacking the guard’s armored body.

Kýron’s slender BloodBlade met the guard’s massive broadsword. Despite being made of liquid, Kýron’s blade blocked the guard’s sword as though it were fine steel. The guard jumped at the contact, his sword was violently vibrating. The churning, rotating BloodBlade was attacking the other sword like a chainsaw, a whirling dervish of thousands of grinding, biting, ‘teeth’ made of enchanted blood, stronger than steel. The guard struggled to hold his sword as these tiny teeth were digging into and twisting the metal from a dozen different angles.

Kýron pushed back hard against guard’s sword and it snapped from all the stress, breaking into pieces. The guard fell back and frantically crawled away.

Kýron immediately dismissed the guard from thought. Kýron turned toward the estate gardens with their long rows of immaculately groomed and shaped shrubberies and bolted toward them. Kýron willed his blade to disappear and he put his tiny sword back into the sheath to get both hands free. His arm and chest still throbbed and burned painfully as he ran.

Behind him, Kýron heard the guards inside the house coming to the window.

That’s good news. They’ll never be able to peg me with an arrow from that narrow vantage point. And the narrowness of the window nullifies their numbers. The longer they try to loose arrows at me from there, the better my head start will be.

Kýron heard a few loosed arrows crashing into the surrounding foliage but none of them came close to him. Kýron kept running in the general direction of the Gateway that he guessed was six to eight hours away. This was going to be a long day.

As he ran, he saw a broad river near the property’s border. Two row boats were dragged up on the shore near an old dilapidated shack.

Kýron made a quick plan and, grabbing one boat, he pushed it into the water and then kicked it toward the opposite shore as hard as he could.

The boat sailed slowly across but the weak current ensured that it did strike the other side of the riverbed. Kýron pulled himself out of the river and hopped on rocks back up the bank to avoid leaving any tracks. He could hear the sounds of the guardsmen in hot pursuit. Kýron tested the shack’s door and for a wonder found it unlocked. He slipped inside, crouched down, and waited.

A minute or two later, the heavy footed guards came charging up to the bank. They found his tracks and quickly noticed the boat on the other shore. They quickly piled into the remaining boat and began rowing across without considering the possibility of trickery. He heard them yelling about the ‘demon’ heading north east, trying to cross the border into Florin.

Fantastic. If they hang onto that theory they’ll be searching me in the opposite direction of the one I’m actually going toward!

As Kýron continued to listen to the soldiers yelling outside the shack, he realized that his plan had a flaw. Apparently, the group of soldiers who had taken the boat to cross the river were in ‘pursuit’ of him and had been simply too stupid to assign a man to row back across and get the men who couldn’t initially fit in the boat.

He heard the soldiers yelling at their comrades across the river who were either out of ear shot by now or simply not paying any heed. Worse, the soldiers on this side of the river appeared to be no great geniuses either. Instead of moving up or down river looking for a place to ford, they appeared content to simply stand in place and complain until their captain returned to assign new orders.

Kýron sensed that he wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

----------------------------------------

Kýron had sat in the shack for over an hour while the soldiers outside paced around grumbling. It was a minor miracle that no one had thought to look inside the shack already. If nothing else, Kýron had taken advantage of this snag to bandage up his left arm which the magic had ripped open and the chest wound he had inflicted on himself. His extremely tiny blade ensured that the physical damage was not extreme but the magical wound still burned as if he had hot coals lying on his chest. His wounds still throbbed painfully but at least the blood wasn’t soaking through his clothes anymore.

Good thing that dried blood is so easy to get out of clothes. Otherwise, just imagine how much money I would have wasted replacing my wardrobe over the years.

“Excuse me gentlemen,” Kýron heard Melinda’s voice from outside the shack and he pressed his ear against the door. “My sister notices that you appear to be trapped on this side of the river for the moment.”

The soldiers collectively grumbled something.

“Lady Jessica, therefore, invites you to return to the manor and join us for luncheon while we wait for your companions to return,” Melinda continued.

The murmuring quickly changed note into approval. Kýron was somewhat impressed at how easily these guards could put a ‘terrible demon’ out of mind when food was mentioned.

“Are you alright, little lady?” A coarse voice asked. “None of our arrows hit you while we were repelling that monster, did they?”

Kýron made a face. The guard sounded like he was making forced conversation rather than assuaging any kind of guilt. His question wasn’t even an apology for the fact that they had immediately decided that Melinda’s life was acceptable collateral damage for killing Kýron.

“We’re most grateful for your kind offer,” The same speaker added, doing his best to sound cultured. Kýron noticed that he hadn’t even waited for Melinda to answer his question about whether or not she’d been hurt. “What’s the picnic basket for?”

“Oh. I thought I’d leave some food out for your companions when they returned,” Melinda tittered. “Why don’t you all head back to the manor and I’ll be along as soon as I deposit this somewhere.”

“Aight,” The guard agreed and Kýron heard them wandering off.

Way to go, Mel! He thought. She’d accidentally cleared the entire area for him. Now, assuming that the other guards didn’t come back straight away-

He heard the shack door creak open. “Kýron?”

Kýron’s heart leapt into his throat. Whirling around, Kýron saw that Melinda stood in the doorway holding a basket.

“Are you alright?” She whispered.

Kýron stared at her dumbfounded. “How did you find me?” He asked.

Melinda actually smiled. “I learned a great deal from you on our journey. ‘Always do what your enemy doesn’t expect.’ I heard the soldiers yelling that you were headed toward Florin, which I knew you’d never do if the gateway you wanted was in the opposite direction. But then, why didn’t they see you going the other way? Obviously, you had performed a diversion and were in hiding nearby.”

Kýron stared at her. “I am… very, very impressed,” He admitted.

She slipped into the shack, handing him the basket. “I asked the cooks to prepare this basket. I thought it would give you some food to eat while you escaped and got your bearings on the new world.”

“Thank you,” Kýron said, genuinely humbled. His eyes were a little misty.

Melinda visibly swallowed. “I would have liked us to have much more time together, Kýron. There is so much more I wanted to ask you. I will never forget you,” She impulsively wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for saving my life,” She said in a thick voice.

Kýron slowly wrapped his own arm around her back. “Thank you for saving mine,” He whispered.

Melinda laughed. “I don’t think that I ever saved you,” She said, pulling back and as she looked at Kýron she froze in shock. In his eyes, Melinda saw such a look of profound pain that it cut her to the quick.

“You don’t understand,” He murmured. “This is the first time in years that I’ve left a world without wondering if everyone I met there hated me now. It’s the first time…” Kýron choked and harshly wiped the tears from his eyes.

Melinda started to tear up as well. She cleared her throat. “I’ve decided that I’m going to become a writer, Kýron. It’s a fine occupation for a noblewoman in exile. I plan to write a novel about a sorcerer with the heart of a true hero,” She said, touching his cheek. Tears freely streamed down her face. “I wish that we had time for you to tell me all the stories of your other adventures and the worlds you’ve seen, but I suppose this one will have to be enough.”

“Trust me, this adventure was my favorite,” Kýron sobbed.

The two of them clung to each other for a long moment, weeping.

From outside, Kýron heard the sounds of glum soldiers returning across the river empty-handed. He heard them begin to move toward the manor house.

“When they get back to the house and I’m not back, they’ll come looking for me,” Melinda said sadly.

Kýron nodded. “I wish, more than anything, that we had more time together.”

Melinda leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment. “Will I ever see you again?” She asked him, as if hoping that this time, there might be a different answer.

Kýron put on a broad smile that only served to help him taste more of his own tears. “Who’s to say? All we can do is wait and hope, right?”

Melinda nodded trying to smile as well. “Then I’ll wait and hope that someday you can read my stories,” She took a ragged breath. “You had better run now.”

Kýron nodded and reluctantly slipped away from her and they left the shack.

Kýron stared at her for a long moment and then began to run away toward the southeast. Melinda watched him recede in the distance and he looked over his shoulder many times, preserving a memory that must now last a lifetime.

And then he was gone.