Ruadh awoke when Erda rested a gentle hand upon his shoulder. The old ranger had closed his eyes for a moment too long and nodded off. The feast was quieting down, the soft melody of a noblewoman’s harp filling the hall.

“Ruadh,” Erda said softly. “Maybe you should go get some sleep. It’s been a long day…”

Ruadh straightened as if some captain had called him to attention. “Oh, no need to worry on my behalf, my lady. I was only resting my eyes for a moment, staying alert. It wouldn’t do for a Ranger to be dozing when his queen might have need of him.”

Erda shook her head. The journey had been hard on the ageing Ruadh, though it would shame him to admit it. He was too hard on himself, so Erda decided to change tactics.

“You mistake me, old friend. I think I shall retire for the night myself.”

“Oh say it isn’t so cousin!” said Hilde, one of King Magnus’ daughters. “The night is still young and we have so much more catching up to do.”

“And we’ve only just managed to pull you away from Father long enough to get you to ourselves,” chimed in Magna, Hilde’s older sister. “I think I’ve heard quite enough about your oh-so good natured husband. What about yourself? You’re a Ranger-queen now for goodness sake. Adventures, spells, surely you must have some exciting stuff to share. I’m rather sick of hearing about Hilde’s fat baby.”

“He is not fat! He’s just big boned.”

“I’ve seen your husband with his trousers down, dear Hilde. There’s nothing big about any of his bones.” Magna laughed while her sister blushed profusely.

“Come now cousins,” said Erda. “We’ve still all of tomorrow to spend before the Moot begins. We can chat more over breakfast.” She turned again to Ruadh. “And we still have a long journey to make once our business here is done. We should rest as much as we can.”

“That is very wise, my queen.” Ruadh arose from his seat. “I suppose Bran and Conn are out somewhere getting into trouble. Maybe I shall go find them and have them keep near the palace if you need them…”

“Don’t worry about it Ruadh. I will have Nim with me. Besides, these are my kinsfolk, remember? I shall be perfectly safe.”

“But we have sworn to…”

“Goodnight, Sir Ruadh,” Erda said with a laugh. “I will see you in the morning.”

“As you wish, my queen.” The old Ranger bowed. “Good night.”

Ruadh turned and left, feeling his weariness fall heavy upon him as he shuffled away. He grimaced at the stiffness of his knees as he felt them click painfully in their sockets.

You old fool, he though bitterly to himself. How fast do you think you could hobble out of bed if she was truly in danger? You should be carrying a bloody walking stick, not a sword.

Ruadh sighed and left the hall, feeling the chill wind bite deep into his old bones. As the captain of Erda’s small band of bodyguards, he was given quarters in the royal palace. He considered making his way to the barracks to be among the more common soldiers, away from the royal family. It might not inspire much confidence in the Rangers to see their kinswoman’s bodyguard struggle out of bed. He remembered the soft, feather stuffed mattress in his quarters…

You’re not fooling anyone, old man.

He started making his way towards the palace, when the sound of running feet caught his attention. He turned and saw a tall man racing towards the hall, his hair and fine clothes looking rather bedraggled and slick with sweat. His eyes were wide and wild looking. Ruadh squared his broad shoulders and puffed out his chest.

“Hey! Hold it right there! Where do you…”

The running man slowed to a stop, gasping for air as he took in the sight of the Ranger. The man had the look of a Paladin, Ruadh thought.

“You…” the Paladin said between breaths. “You’re one of… the lady Erda’s men. Where is she?”

Ruadh was somewhat taken aback. “Retiring from the hall… no wait! What do you think you’re…”

Before the old warrior could finish, the Paladin had sped past him and towards the great hall without another word. Ruadh gave chase, stumbling as his knees almost gave way. “Wait! Argh… Hold it damn you!”

Erasmus skidded around the corner of the hall, sprinting to the side exit which opened to the path that led straight to the palace. There he saw a small group of women, cloaked against the cold as they made their way along the snow covered path. “Lady Erda!” Erasmus cried. The group stopped and turned their hooded faces towards him, most of them not a little startled by Erasmus’ sudden and dishevelled appearance. The Paladin slowed to a stop, swaying a little as he fought back his nausea. The old Ranger could be heard not too far off, cursing as he staggered along to catch up.

“Sir Erasmus?” the princess Magna said with no little disapproval. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Forgive me… ladies, I must see lady… Queen Erda. It is urgent…”

Magna interrupted. “Have you been drinking sir, good gods this is most…” Before she could finish, Erda emerged from the group, throwing back her hood to address the Paladin.

“I am Erda. What have you to say, sir?”

“It’s Pike, my lady.”

“Pike? Why, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. But his wound has gone bad… real bad. He looks like he’ll die for sure. He needs help…”

“Where is he now?”

“In the barracks with your men…”

“Nim!” Erda called as she turned back to the group of ladies. The young Ranger girl came forward.

“Yes my lady?”

“Fetch my equipment from the palace and find me at the barracks as fast as you can. Ladies, I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself.” She turned back to Erasmus. “Can you still keep a good pace?”

Erasmus grimaced. “Aye…”

“Then lead me to him. Hurry now, every second may count.”

“My queen!” Ruadh croaked as finally caught up. “My queen! This…”

“Ruadh, thank the gods you’re here,” said Erda as she rushed past him him. “Escort Nim to the palace and help her bring the stuff to the barracks.”

“I… what?”

Nim called out behind her shoulder. “Come on you old fart, I can’t carry it all!”

Ruadh looked from Nim to Erda and back again in bewilderment. “My queen… I… oh damnit! I’m getting too old for this shit!” he cried as he hobbled off to the palace.

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No words passed between Erasmus and Erda on that mad dash to the barracks. Before long they had reached the building and were rushing through the halls to Pike’s quarters. Erasmus skidded around a corner and halted, raising a pointed finger towards an open door.

“In there!” he gasped, his head spinning and his stomach protesting. Erda rushed past him while he remained, fighting to keep himself from retching.

Should have listened Rollo… he thought to himself. Taking deep breaths, he straightened his back, pushing on and striding through the open door.

Bran and Conn where standing on either side of the door when Erasmus entered as if on guard, seemingly unsure of what to do. There, on the far side of the room, Erda was knelt before Pike’s bed, black blood streaming down the mattress to pool on the floor. Erasmus went over to it to stand behind the Ranger-queen while she frantically studied Pike’s wound. The black veins of bruised skin had grown to cover most of torso, his chest heaving sporadically in belaboured breath. His skin had gone a deathly shade of pale, his eyes closed in their deep sockets.

“What’s happening to him?” said Erasmus as he stared at the ghastly sight. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Neither have I,” replied Erda, in a voice that was tinged with horror and sadness. “I have only heard in stories…” she paused but changed the topic. “He’s lost consciousness, though his body is still fighting the rot.” She withdraw a knife from her belt and left a small cut on Pike’s forearm. The wound bled black.

“It has spread into his blood. The poison will have infected his entire system by now. He doesn’t have long left.”

“Is there nothing to be done for him?” Erasmus asked.

“This is something beyond even my skills. “Only the power of the gods themselves can save him now…”

Erasmus hung his head low. He had good reason to hate the head-hunter, yet when it came to it, he did not wish this stranger to die a death so horrid. There was the sound of hurried steps at the door. and the arrival of the handmaiden Nim.

“My lady! I’ve brought your medic supplies. By the hells…” the ranger-girl said when she looked upon Pike.

“No, none of that will be enough.” Erda said. “Where is Ruadh?”

“He lagged behind. He’s got the rest of your luggage…”

“Bran! Conn!” The two rangers leapt to attention when their queen called their names. “Both of you go help Ruadh and get that luggage here with haste!”

The young rangers raced off while Erda withdraw a flask from her supplies and gently let it trickle down his throat, hoping to at least abate the pain for a while. Pike’s breaths were short and ragged. Sweat beaded upon his pale brow.

After Erda had placed a strip of cold, wet cloth upon Pike’s forehead, the young Rangers had returned. Bran was carrying a heavy pack, while Conn was letting an exhausted Ruadh lean on his shoulder. Erda shot up and took the pack from Bran and began digging through its contents. When she had reached the bottom, Erda raised her hands and withdraw a package, wrapped in cloth.

“My Queen…” Ruadh said. “That’s the gift! You can’t mean too…”

“We have no other choice,” said Erda in a sharp tone of finality. Unwrapping the cloth, Erda revealed a small, wooden box, intricately decorated with spiralling patterns. She set the box down onto the floor and opened it, lifting the lid with almost exaggerated care. Erasmus leaned in closer to see the box’s contents, seeing within it three dried leaves, neatly resting on a bed of white silk. The leaves were a curious shade of pink, each one in the shape of (something that I’ll figure out later). Erasmus noticed that the Rangers in the room watched with wide eyes, as if in shock and awe.

“I…” she said with emphasis, “…have no other choice. I made a vow to do whatever was in my power to heal him. My unlce will understand…”

“But…but…” Ruadh could barely summon the words. “But this… this stranger?!”

Erda did not reply, saying nothing as she withdrew one of the pink leaves from the box, and prepared the potion.

Pike sat in the darkness, cold stone beneath him. He looked around fearfully at the dark, fearing evil and hateful things which might be peering out at him from the shadows. He wanted to hide, to cower into himself, but there was nowhere to go, nothing but darkness all around.

He looked up. Faint rays of pale light had appeared, spilling from a long vertical line as though a crack had appeared in a wall to let light through. Then the crack widened, opening up light a great, slanted eye. A ghostly light fell upon Pike as the eye trained itself upon him, the pitch blackness slowly giving away to reveal colourless stone pillars, then the far walls. Pike was back in his temple, the ruined place that hid deep within the wild forest. And there, standing before the altar and the image of the great, coiling dragon, was the One-Eyed Man, his form little but a black silhouette from which his single eye stared out, glowing with its pale light. Pike sat frozen in that glare, like prey before the predator.

Pike glanced around, looking for an exit, but there were no doors to be found on any of the stone walls. “Where… where am I…” he said with rising fear.

"You…" the deep voice resonated with the chamber, bouncing off the walls. "Are back where you belong. In the temple you have built for yourself. The temple that rightly belongs to me…" sardonic laughter rang out, the dark figure moved forward, the pale eye gleaming from a hood. Nothing could be seen of the One-Eyed Man's form beneath his dark, tattered robes.

"Look at you," he said in his sonorous voice. "A sad sight to see. You are a great warrior, son of Proteus. Yet look at you now, cowering like a child. You seem so strong and courageous… when you have a sword in your hand. What was it you said? No can kill you? Where has your courage gone, Head-Hunter?"

Pike cowered, shielding his eyes against the gaze. "This isn't real…" he muttered. "This is just a dream…"

The voice laughed again. "Aye. That is true. You have been living in a dream, trying to hide from your fate and waiting for the nightmare to end, waiting to wake up and feel the morning sun upon your face. Well… son of Proteus… now you have woken up."

"Why me… What do you want from me…"

"What I want? Fool. Why should I share such a thing with you? Would you even hear the words, with your head buried so deep in the dirt?

"But yet… I am responsible for you. Without me, you would not be the Hunter you are now. In a way… you are like my son…"

"No!" Pike cried. "You killed my father! You killed them both!"

"If not for me…" the voice continued, "you would not have grown so strong. What future could your father provide? He would only have led you to painful death. But you survived, and now you are one of the greatest warriors in the land. I gave you this! I gave you the chance to be so much more. But now you will die, alone and forgotten, a poor vagabond. Such a pity…"

"No… no I won't die here…" Pike managed, clenching his teeth against the tears that welled in his eyes. "She will come…"

"Ha! Do you expect kindness from strangers? A fool's hope. You can only rely on your own strength. Do you not see? I am the source of your strength. I am the river from which you drink!"

Pike felt the presence of light behind him. He turned, and a door had appeared where there was none before. It was slightly ajar, golden light like the rays of sunrise spilling through it. Pike swelled with hope. He tried to rise to his feet, raising his arm as if to reach for door.

"What good can the light do for you? It will only show you all the wretchedness your world has to offer. You are a creature of chaos, son of Proteus, hiding in the dark abyss all your life. Come forward, my son, kneel at my feet and recognise me as your lord. I will end your suffering… forever."

Pike paused. He listened to the voice, though he dare not look at the speaker. The opened door before him promised escape from the dark temple, but an escape to what? There would always be the fear, the uncertainty, the pain… If death was his ultimate fate, then why even try to postpone the inevitable. If the darkness was swallow him up, then his life of endless running would be over.

He need only kneel before this dark-god… He need only submit.

The thought of it filled the Hunter with rage. Had he endured all those years of solitude and hardship just to surrender now? Never before had he considered simply stretching out his neck for an enemy to strike off his head, he had always stood his ground and fought back. Why should now be any different? He rose slowly to his feet and took a few tentative steps.

"If you go, I will only keep hunting for you. Always, I will be at your heels, in your dreams. I will be waiting for you, in every dark corner… son of Proteus. You are not invincible…"

"Words… words…" muttered Pike, rising to stand before the door, slowly opening wider until its light flooded the temple, while he cast a tall shadow behind him. "I am not frightened of words, stranger, or whatever you are. If you want to bring me to my knees, then next time bring a sword in your hand."

The voice did not respond. There was only silence as Pike strode forward, and into the blinding light.

Pike's eyes flickered open, protesting against the warm morning light that fell through an open window. He groaned and stretched his limbs a little, feeling as though he had slept a lifetime away, the mattress beneath him feeling as soft as cloud. It was as though he had never felt such comfort in his entire life.

He pulled himself up into a sitting position, memory slowly creeping back. A strange, putrescent smell lingered in the air. He looked down at his abdomen, where his wound was hidden by fresh bandages, white and pristine. Oddly enough, there was no feeling of pain coming from his side. He gingerly removed the bandages to reveal the scar where the wound should have been. Pike looked at it in disbelief.

A faint noise to his right caught his attention. He hadn't noticed the white robed woman before, sat in a chair and slumped over a desk as though she were sleeping. She gave a small yawn, and turned her face to Pike. Erda's eyes were darkly shadowed from a night of restlessness, but when she saw Pike, a smile touched her lips.

"Good morning Pike," she said. And the swordsman's heart leapt into his throat.