The Story That Never Ends

(That makes perfect sense! :) Thanks for explaining. I would recommend, though, that the next one to add explain that a for the sake of the readers. :) )

"There must be hundreds of them, Lord Arsoth!" cried one of his captains, panting with want of air. "Did you see that fire, and how our men fell by the dozen? Only an army could have done this."

Lord Arsoth snapped back in a voice that showed he was far from wearying. "Do you think I do not know that, captain? From the direction the body came upon us, we can see that they have cut down all our scouts. I don't see how they could have got through Sir Denvoir's defenses, but it has happened, and we cannot change it. They cut through and, in preventing our escape, have cut us down. Still, I am willing to test their nerve. Even an army can waver if the other side shows a bold face."

He paused for a moment. His reeling band of men stopped immediately, placing their shaking hands against the trees. Lord Arsoth called out.

"Here is a defensible place. This clearing stands on rising ground, and the enemy cannot see it until he finds himself on clear, open ground. There are a full two hundred of us left, and we could face this band of rebels and beat them too, I say. I know they surprised us. At their hand and the hand of their friends in the cave, we have lost three-quarters of our number. The slain were not simply unfortunate casualties of war, they were your brothers, cousins, and sons! It is time we do our duty, stand our ground, and be avenged. Down with the accursed rebels! Long live the Council and the Count of Omb!"

The other soldiers gave a half-hearted cheer. Although they respected their leader, they also knew that they could not resist forever. No other force of the Council was near to support them, and they had no provisions. In addition, they had no idea of the numbers of their adversaries. As far as they knew, an army was coming to destroy each and every one of the party. They listened to the nearing cries of the pursuing party and, drawing themselves up in formation, stood silent, each soldier possessing a great feeling of uneasiness.

Meanwhile, the band of nobles, the same that had so valiantly attacked Lord Arsoth's men in the act of capturing the king, ran swiftly through the forest in pursuit of Lord Arsoth, giving great cheers as they went.

They had traveled long since they had split off from the great party led by Sir Quinn, Lady Ariana, and Lady Makennah. They were, in fact, the same thirty nobles who had left to meet the king days before when Sir Quinn and Count Ronan went to the Castle of Carivia. After a perilous journey that had delayed them long, they had reached the secret abode of King Archen. Arriving just in time to see the charge of Lord Arsoth's soldiers into the cave, they were filled with grief and, in a desperation, sought to avenge their friends.

They had been surprised at the strange absence of the Council's guards behind and around the cave's entrance, but they determined to use it to their advantage. Although maddened at the cries of their comrades – yells they took to be their last – they worked steadily at the creation of large piles of firewood, drenched by flasks bearing the same type of oil that Britton saw used in the castle of Carivia. When the fight was heard to be over and the calls of the council still echoed in the cavern, the party put their plan into action.

They lit the wood and, giving a mighty shove, they thrust it from over the cave's entrance right into the path of the Council's men. The pile on the right failed to burn, but the pile on the left was caught up in such a mass of flames that it would have been impossible for Lord Arsoth's soldiers to have retreated in that direction.

The courageous band of the Order positioned themselves behind the trees to the right of the cave entrance, and as the soldiers poured out in a panic and began marching into the forest, they quickly and silently employed their swords.

In the darkness and confusion, they were not noticed by the commanders. After many had fallen, however, Lord Arsoth realized the danger and gave the order for instant and hasty retreat, at which point the Council's men broke out in a run. They were then pursued by the nobles to the clearing mentioned by Lord Arsoth.

Here the Council's men had positioned themselves on top of the rocky hill in three lines, each composed of around seventy men. Lord Arsoth stood at their head, his eyes glistening and his mouthing displaying a cruel smile.

"Now, men," he said. "They will be here before a minute has past. Remember, this is not to be a last stand. This clearing is so sudden the the front ranks will be in the middle of it before the notice can be given. They are disordered and at our mercy. When they come, slay them all."

The troops gave a grim laugh.

Lord Arsoth continued. "If they keep on, come back to the hill and we will show them the taste of our blades!"

Seconds later the party of nobles, praying that the Almighty would deliver the enemy into their hands, found themselves unexpectedly in the clearing, at the mercy of their greatest adversaries.

"Charge!" cried lord Arsoth. The great army of the Council, terrifying in the moonlight, swept down the hill, swords lifted high.

(wow, that's great! Thanks for explaining everything:D)

(Great addition!)

(I've been wanting to add, but kind of fell behind in reading it :) )

(I've been wanting to add, but kind of fell behind in reading it :) )

Same here. :(

(And I really don't have time to read it because of BB!)

(True. I'll catch up pretty soon though I hope.)

(Here are the past few chapters. :) )

CHAPTER 12
The voices Rowan heard were both those of young boys. Even before they came into view, Rowan could make out some of their rapid conversation.
"–would greatly help my family. Lord Drakin, though cruel at times, pays well, and I am sure that my information would please him greatly."
"I suppose. This tunnel is incredible! We have been walking for quite sometime. I wonder how long it took to build… how did you come across it again?"
"Sir Myles told me about it yesterday. He said it was the quickest way to inform Lord Drakin of the latest developments. Although he said some rocks would be in the way, he believed I would be able to uncover the opening. That is why I brought you."
"I am glad you did. This is amazing!"
Rowan sat back in astonishment. These children were messengers for Sir Myles, and in league with Lord Drakin? That would mean that Sir Myles, a knight whom Rowan had befriended during his time with the other nobles, was nothing less than a traitor! Anger began swelling up in his breast, and he began to have evil thoughts toward Sir Myles. However, he remembered a conversation he had with Sir Quinn a long time ago.
He had been angry when a young boy about his age named Britton had gone up to him, laughed in his face, and called him "an ordinary orphan," even though he was a Count. He was tempted to respond with violence towards the boy, for his lack of knowledge regarding his parents had always been a sore spot in his heart. Sir Quinn, however, had wisely intervened. "Do not get angry, my lad, at what others do to you. They may not follow the Almighty, and if that be the case, how can we expect them to want the faith we have. That young lad insulted you and falsely called you an orphan, a story I cannot tell you now. It may be God's plan that showing kindness to him can win him to God." Although he had not fully understood his words, Rowan responded with kindness towards Britton, even though it was unpleasant. Eventually, through continued kindness, he had actually become quite good friends with Britton and they knew each other almost as brothers. Britton also came to know the Lord through the way Rowan treated him.
Count Rowan smiled at this recollection. He resolved that, through the strength of God, he would not bear enmity toward Sir Myles if ever he should meet him. He then turned and waited until the young boys came into view.
Rowan could hear that the boys were very close. Their footsteps echoed throughout the tunnel.
"I think the opening is right around this corner, Asher." Rowan could plainly hear all they said.
They came around the turn, and to their astonishment, they saw a dark eyed, handsome young man, despite the fact that he was a bit unkempt.
The boys themselves were fair-haired, like most of the people of that part of the country, and had well-rounded figures. They were not much more than twelve years old, and there was a look of excitement in their eyes, a look that very often comes into the eyes of young boys who are upon an adventure.
With a cry they jumped back into the tunnel. Rowan realized that he could learn quite a bit about what the Council knew from the information held by the two boys. He called after them. "Wait! Please come back!"
The two boys replied,"You are a convict! We dare not. Come on, let's leave."
"I am no convict," Rowan said again. "I am a free man." Rowan considered adding "now" to the end of his statement, but he thought better of it. The two boys inched nearer to the light, still showing doubt on your faces.
"See, I have no chains, and the door is wide open."
The boys noticed this and their uneasiness gradually disappeared at the sight of Rowan cheerful face.
"What are your names?"
"I am Isaac, and this is Asher," said the taller of the two boys.
"What are you doing here?" asked Rowan.
The boys thought for a minute and conversed among themselves, then said, "We are trying to warn the commander of a dreadful combat that is about to take place, if it has not already. We are trying to aid one of Lord Drakin's most trusted soldiers, Sir Myles, to destroy a great party of rebels. You won't tell anyone, will you?"
"I will try not to, but please, tell me more about this battle."
"I cannot say any more, for I don't know much else, other than the location of the fight, which is very near the town on the other side of this tunnel. I did hear that Sir Bradley is among the rebels, though. Anyway, I think it is time we went to see Lord Drakin."
With an outward smile but with inward agony, Rowan watched as the two boys left his cell and went off towards the dungeon entrance. Quickly realizing that he would need speed to help his comrades, he carefully picked up the body of Sir Quinn, which fortunately Asher and Isaac had not noticed, and ran into the tunnel.
Rowan knew he did not have much time before the Council’s soldiers exited the castle when they heard the news brought by those boys. They might notice him. He ran down the tunnel as silently as he could. After a time, he could finally see daylight in the distance. He stopped in his tracks. He thought he heard the moan of a man. Voices. Rowan knew that if this was the soldiers of the Council….no, not now, not as he was approaching freedom?!?! He suddenly stood erect as he heard what he thought to be familiar voices. He approached nearer.
“We desperately need supplies. I thought you said, Sir Elviron, that a town full of provisions was here? It is of no fault of your own, of course, that it is destroyed, but I think it would have been better had we found a halting place not so close to Carivia and better suited to treating the Count’s leg.”
“You are quite right. However, you well know that Carivia is not so dangerous as may seem. We have a refuge there.”
“I am afraid that the dispatch probably revealed that refuge. Lady Arwen and Sir Quinn, if they escaped, would be near here. That is the main reason I brought us to this place.”
Rowan’s eyes lit up with joy, friends were right out side the cave! Friends. Rowan started running, but not before he reverently placed Sir Quinn’s body at the cave’s entrance.
“What was that?” Exclaimed the Baron DuBatz in a warning tone as he caught the sound of footsteps.
“It’s me, Baron!” Then in a quieter tone, “Rowan.”
Rowan emerged from behind a large charred tree.
“Rowan! It’s certainly good to see you here. Where are Sir Quinn and Lady Arwen?”
“Sir Quinn…has fallen. I do not know the whereabouts of Lady Arwen.”
All three of the men gasped at the death of their friend, who they knew has an honest, chivalrous, and brave knight.
“That is indeed a tragedy.” Said the Count of Terema, with a sadden look of his face.
Suddenly Rowan remembered Isaac and Asher and their story. “Baron, I believe some of our friends are in danger.” He then explained to them the whole story of the boys and the part about Sir Myles being one of Sir Drakin’s most trusted soldiers.
“This is serious. We must see to this matter.”
As the four men went slowly onward, careful to avoid further injury to the Count of Terema’s broken leg.
“Count, What has happened to your leg? Is it badly injured?”
At this statement all three knights burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Asked Rowan inquisitively.
“It is rather a humorous. I was riding my horse and sudde-“
Suddenly, they stopped short, as they heard the sound of clashing metal, and they as they came to the entrance of a three walled cavern and saw Sir Bradley, Sir Caston, fighting in mortal combat against Sir Myles. At that moment, Sir Elviron stated with surprise,
“Well, at least we found th-“
As they all looked on, they gasped in horror as Sir Myles dealt a mortal blow to Sir Bradley.

"Kathryn, I know this is hard for you, but we're going to have to wait." Britton said, trying to deny what he knew he had to do. 
"Britton, I can't! Gradlem has a family! William, me, his wife, and his children! We can't let him die!" Tears began to trickle down Kathryn's cheeks as she tried to run towards the battle. 
"No! Wait." Britton took a deep breath and stepped in front of her. "I will go. You must continue on the mission that Lady Arwen sent you on. I will go to find Gradlem." He pulled his sword out of his scabbard and saluted. "I go to fulfill your request, Lady Kathryn!" 
Kathryn didn't smile. "Be careful, Britton." She turned away towards the dungeon, then turned back. "Please, Britton. Don't die!" 
With those words, Kathryn turned and ran towards the dungeon. 
"Dear God," Britton prayed as he watched her leave. "Please protect us both." 
With those words, Britton turned on his heel and headed for the high wall. 
He knew that, whatever he did, it would have to be fast and well-executed. Although he still doubted whether any in the courtyard were alive, he pressed on with the goal of at least finding out their fate. 
He reached the wall and, without finding means of scaling it, he looked around rapidly. There, at the right side of the massive gate that led into the yard, he saw a door that led into the second wall of Carivia's fortifications. Upon testing it, he found with delight that it was open. He peered in cautiously and, when his eyes got used to the light, he saw that a staircase went spiraling up to the right, leaden to the top of the wall. He knew that, by climbing this staircase, he would be able to see what was going on below, so he set out at a run, taking three stairs at a time. 
A large oaken door met him at the top. He opened it one sliver at a time and saw in the dying light that there were dozens of captives on the walls! By the state of their clothes, he knew that they had but recently been in the dungeons. He wondered how they could have escaped, and where Lord Traius's massive forces were. 
"Perhaps these criminals rose up against Lord Traius," he thought. "In that case, there is a chance Gradlem could be alive! Then again, their faces don't look particularly friendly. I wish I could see down into the courtyard from here!" 
Britton jumped back when he saw two men coming nearer towards the door, armed with great sticks. He prayed desperately that they would not open the door and discover him. Fortunately, the two men stopped just outside the door. They had merely been trying to light torches by placing a special oil on their sticks. Containers of the oil were scattered all over the castle, as Britton well knew. The terror of the two men, however, had driven it completely out of his memory. 
"How long does it take to starve a person into submission?," one of the two released prisoners asked. 
"I don't know. A couple of days perhaps. Just be happy we were able to convince Lord Traius not to slay them all." 
"You are right. Freedom is precious, but I would not like to have it at the cost of others' lives." 
"Lord Traius has been growing more anxious," the second man said nervously. 
"I know. I think he is starting to change his mind. I feel sure the order will be given for us to fire upon them. I just don't understand their stubbornness." 
"It's that red-headed fellow -- Gidlaim, or something like that -- that has caused it. I heard that he gave Lord Traius quite the tongue-lashing before we were released." 
"He deserved it too, the brute! Still, if the garrison refuse to save their own lives, Evron, I see no reason why we should hesitate to save our own. If they don't take the opportunity to save themselves, why should we risk all for them?" 
The second man paused. "I suppose you are right. Still, I wish there was something I could do." 
"What can you do? Lord Traius is watching every move from that tower of his, and his men are patrolling the walls. If you make a wrong move, they will be upon you, and not only them, but the scum of the dungeons would gladly turn you in for reward." 
"I don't know. I just wish I could do something." 
Britton smiled. He knew what could be done. He rushed down the stairs and made for the dungeons. He had to find some rags, such as a convict would wear, and hurriedly. The lives of hundreds might depend on it.

Chapter 13

"King Archen, and Sir Walter, follow me," said a voice behind the king. He turned and looked at the person before him. He was a tall man with a shining face and blond hair. "I am Landon." 
Sir Walter and King Archen slowly stood up, upon finding that their bonds were gone. The man started walking through the passageway, and the two followed. Soon they had reached the end of the tunnel, and Landon stopped. 
"Your comrades are safe and making their way to a place of refuge. Fear not, gallant men," said Landon. "For the Lord is with you. Let Him carry you to the finding of your son, Archen, and to victory!" 
And as quickly as he had appeared, the man was gone. 
"King Archen," said Sir Walter in a shaky voice. "I believe that man was an angel sent from the Almighty!" 
"Indeed, I think the same, my good knight," replied King Archen. "Now, let us find our comrades and escape!" 
Sir Bradley screamed in agony as Sir Myles' sharp blade penetrated deep into his shoulder. Sir Myles chortled evilly as he turned to face Sir Caston. 
"Surrender now while you're still concious, foolish knight," Sir Myles taunted, "Or you shall taste the death of my sword as well." 
"Never!" shouted Sir Caston. 
Sir Caston bravely charged toward the evil knight, but it was clear that Sir Myles' taunting words were not empty. Sir Caston was tiring rapidly and his strokes were more careless and unprecise. In one last final effort, Sir Caston thrust his sword towards Sir Myles' heart, but Sir Myles side-stepped the blow, and sent his own sword crashing down upon th blade of Sir Caston. Sir Caston's blade clattered to the ground and Sir Myles reeled back for the final blow. Just the , a lone silhouette of a figure came flying over the edge of the cliff behind Sir Myles and landed right on Myles' back. The two rolled across the rocky ground and then at the same time shot back into the air. All of Lady Arwen's party gawked in surprise as the sun shone brightly on the face of the newcomer--Rowan! 
Sir Myles quickly recovered himself and mockingly laughed at the newcomer, " Who do you think you are to challenge me... boy!" 
Rowan was tempted to flame up into anger, but he recalled his thoughts about Myles in the dungeon of Carivia, and simply said, " I am a humble knight of the true king of Kornaiden, and in the name if the king, I shall put an end to your traitorous doings." Rowan didn't flinch and stood tall with his sword drawn. 
The braveness of the young man made Sir Myles slightly cower, but he quickly gathered his strength and aimed a full-force blow for Rowan's head. Rowan parried the cut, and countered with a combina-tion of cuts and slices of his own, putting Myles slowly in the retreat. While in prison, he had been longing for battle, and now he had the chance of a duel, he was putting all his heart into it. The duel went on for some time, but at last Myles took a careless slice, which Rowan quickly parried and then sent his own sword towards Myles' heart. Myles was unable to recover and Rowan's blade went clear through Myles' chest and out his back. 
Rowan pulled back and Myles fell to the ground with his face a crimson red, and his eyes bulging and spewing out hatred. His jaw dropped and his expression was one of disbelief but slowly changed into one of deep recognition. 
"Surely... you are...," he stopped and clutche his chest in pain. Then he spoke his dying words, "the Prince!" 
Rowan started. As Sir Myles fell dead, he became lost in a stupor. A combination of his still-healing wounds, the fury with which he fought, and the shock at the words of Sir Myles made him unable to respond even as his friends gathered around, laughing and crying. 
This state of confusion lasted for several moments, but Rowan soon shook it off and began questioning his friends and being questioned by them. 
"How did you get here?," Lady Arwen finally asked. "We had given you and Sir Quinn up for dead when the tunnel collapsed. How could you have survived?" 
Rowan answered, "It is rather a long story, Lady Arwen, but I will say that we escaped Lord Drakin's torture chambers through great effort and tried to make our way here. Unfortunately, in the process, Sir Quinn lost his life." 
Gasps came from the other knights and nobles. Sir Quinn was one of the most loved of the Order, and his death dealt everyone a serious blow. Slowly, and with great effort, Lady Arwen responded, "He is with the Almighty now." Everyone gave an inward assent at her words. 
"Rowan," asked Sir Caston, "how were you able to arrive so quickly? Did you come through the tunnel Lady Arwen told me about? It was certainly providential that you arrived when you did. Had you been any later, I should have certainly fallen by Sir Myles' sword." 
"I was able to remove the rocks that blocked the tunnel and to travel through it. Still, I would not have arrived in time had I not had the help of Sir Elviron, the Baron DuBatz, and the Count of Terema." 
At that point the three knights rode through the narrow opening, smiles on their faces. They were also greeted with great enthusiasm by the other knights. 
Stories continued to be shared. Groups gathered to hear the experi-ences each had during the last few weeks. Some laughter was heard, but weeping was more frequent. Soon all began to set about burying those who fell in the fight, namely Sir Bradley and Sir Myles. As they worked, they discussed the sad incident. 
"Sir Myles was a vile traitor," said Sir Caston. "All this time, he appeared to be as motivated as we were, while all the while he was giving away information that could have led to our deaths." 
Sir Elviron then spoke up. "We must work to ensure that such an incident does not happen again." 
The other knights nodded their heads. 
"Rowan," asked Lady Arwen, "you were there as Sir Myles fell, and you witnessed his last words, although we were too far away to hear. Did he give any indication that there were other spies in our midst?" 
Rowan was silent for a moment. He decided that it would not be wise to say that he was recognized as a prince. In the first place, he did not believe in Sir Myles' words. In the second place, he felt that it would be arrogant or inappropriate to so set himself up above his comrades, all of whom he looked up to, by claiming that he was a form of royalty. 
For these reasons, he merely answered, "No, Lady Arwen. Nothing of importance was said." 
With that, the knights continued their work, held a solemn burial service, and set about to make their plans for the future. 
Britton hurried as fast as caution would permit as he made his way to the dungeons. He knew his plan was risky, but he now felt sure that it was what he had been called to do. Even if it cost his life. 
Britton had been orphaned at a very young age, and for many years he had raised himself. He had done whatever pleased him and lived only for himself. That is, until he met Gradlem. 
Gradlem had found Britton on the worst day of his life, sitting outside the castle against a tree, quietly sobbing. Britton had said something very cruel and spiteful to the young Count of the castle, and now was sorry he had said it. Not because he felt any guilt for behaving so wickedly, but because he was sure the Count would punish him and send him away, and he couldn't bear the idea of humiliation. 
He had just decided that he would leave now and not wait to be sent away, when he stood up and saw a tall young soldier smiling down on him. Britton shrunk back a little from him at first but the soldier was very kind to him and finally succeeded in getting the little boy blurt out everything that had happened. 
Over the next few months, the young soldier met with Britton often, even sharing his meals with Britton and taking him to his house to spend the nights so the boy wouldn't have to sleep in the stables as he usually did. The soldier taught him about the Lord, and how God had sent His Son to die in their place, and that he could not truly be an orphan if he had a Father in Heaven. 
Britton's life was never the same after that, even though he often failed, he no longer lived for himself, but for Him that had loved him and died for him. 
Gradlem had also been the first to introduce Britton to Kathryn and William. They treated the young orphaned boy as a brother. Not only had Gradlem showed the boy that he had a Heavenly Father, but he and his cousins also acted the part of an earthly family for the lad. 
And now, thinking back over his life, and blushing a little as he thought of his first meeting with Gradlem and the Count of Carivia, Britton silently prayed for his Lord to help him and strengthen him in this endeavor to rescue the man who had first lead him to the Throne of the King. 
Out of breath, he finally arrived at the dungeon. He was, for a mo-ment, surprised that there were no guards on duty, then he remem-bered with embarrassment that that was because there were no prisoners to guard. Still running at the top of his speed, he grabbed some convict’s clothing from the prison store room. He turned around to run back to the wall, but ran into a small figure -- Kathryn! 
“Why are you here Britton?” Asked Kathryn inquisitively. “You are supposed to be saving lives!” 
“Well, so are you,” He said with a smile. “This is part of my plan. Have you found Count Rowan and Sir Quinn yet, Kathryn?” 
“No. I can’t find them anywhere. I am getting nervous.” 
“ I’m sure you’ll find them. I don’t have much time. I have to go!” And with that he raced out of the dungeon to execute his plan. 
Britton crept toward the walls of the Courtyard where the released prisoners were at their stations by the catapults and other various machines. It was a rather difficult task to avoid attention because he was wearing the clothes of a convicted criminal. Slowly he went along, his eyes darting in all directions to notice any moving forms. 
He slipped onto the walls unnoticed though the same door he had looked through only minutes before. He looked around. Britton wondered where Evron was. He was vital to carrying out his scheme. The short stalky man had been a noticeable character last time but Britton could not find him amongst the vast gathering of fugitives and soldiers. It was some time before the young man found the object of his search. The older man was leaning against the wall behind a catapult. He was the only one within hearing distance, which meant a grand opportunity. 
“Evron! Evron!,” Whispered the boy. Evron looked around sharply. Seeing no one, he went back to his musing. Britton sighed. He’d have to get closer. He slowly walked up. 
“Evron, Don’t look at me but listen to me closely.” Said Britton leaning against the same wall and speaking with clenched teeth. 
“What do you want?” Said Evron, speaking in the same manner. 
“Do you like what Lord Trauis is doing?” 
“Of course not! No one does. He is about to kill innocent men.” 
“Do you want to help save those men?” 
It took Evron some time to take this in. Some young convict boy was going to try to save hundreds maybe thousands of men? And he wanted his help? This must be a trap. He did want to save the men, but if this was a trap… No, he couldn’t help. He looked at the young man out of the corner of his eye. His face was determined as if he was going to do this no matter what. His eyes expressed hope for help from him. What could he say? 
“Yes, young man. What is your plan?” 

That same night, King Archen and Sir Walter cautiously made their way towards the cave’s secret entrance, still quietly discussing their mysterious visitor. They carefully picked their way over the smoulder-ing embers of the fire Sir Desmond had made and then, grunting in pain from their many wounds, swung themselves onto the forest floor, breathing slowly and deeply.
“My king,” asked Sir Walter in a whisper. “Do you think that they could have survived? The two hundred men Lord Arsoth spoke of might have proved too much for our friends.”
King Archen shook his head. “I have hope, Sir Walter, that they are still alive. I see no sign of the men Arsoth spoke of. Perhaps it was just a trick, meant to make us think there was no escape. Any way, that commotion near the cave entrace was sure to have called the soldiers, if thy existed, to that location. Finally, the man who helped us to escape told us that they were all right, and I have no doubt as to his honesty. Of course we should still be careful, but I think that, right now, we have little to fear. We shall trust in God for protection. He has preserved us this far, and I believe he will continue to do so.”
“You speak the truth, my king,” replied Sir Walter with a louder and more confident tone. “What do you think our plan should be now? Should we see what caused that battle by the cave mouth? The attackers could very well have been a party of the Order, in which case we should provide assistance. We could also make for one of the western or southern refuges.”
“They are known by the Council, Sir Walter. I am afraid that option is not wise at the moment. Your first idea might be a good one, but I think that there is too much danger of being discovered. I would suggest that we head toward the south, not to enter one of our customary refuges, but to find a new one and to meet with our friends who might not have heard of the danger we are all in. I remember passing through a friendly village near Forenton that seemed loyal to the Order. I think we should make for that.”
“As you wish, my king. I do wish we knew what the commotion was about, though. The timing seems almost miraculous.”
“That it does. But then, the truly miraculous is often not visible to our eyes. The greatest miracles mant times are those we don’t see, just as the bravest and strongest of hearts are not in those who appear brave and strong, but in those who, although small and inexperi-enced, have hearts like lions. I may be wrong, Sir Walter, but I think that the greatest of miracles take place within people and individuals; maybe that is what the Almighty intended. Flash and fire are powerful in their way, but the true mighty acts of God are so often the steady pull of His love. Little by little, piece by piece, a heart is transformed through his mercy and grace. Yes, the conflict was miraculous; but just as miraculous are the tranformations that occur every day within people. Those are acts that I will always admire. I only wish that the Almighty will someday see fit to transform the heart of…”
The King trailed off in deep contemplation. Sir Walter rose, staring at the king with a smile.
“Truly, my king, you were meant to be a poet. You are wiser than I, a fact I will never dispute. I think, though, that it is safe to be on our way.”
With that, the pair made their way into the darkness, their hearts bright with the light of hope.

Chapter 14

Evron looked up with a smile after hearing Britton's scheme. "I think your idea might work. It is dangerous and hare-brained, but still, I think it might work. What is your name, friend?"

"My name is Britton. I am not really a convict, but I am determined to rescue the garrison and I felt this disguise would be the best way to go about it. I do look odd, though."

"No odder than the rest of us," laughed Evron quietly. "Still, I have to warn you that to carry out your plan we will need more than just the two of us. Having been in solitary confinement for nigh on three years, I have no real knowledge of the hearts of these men. Many were imprisoned rightfully for crimes they committed – murderers, thievs, and the like. There are also those who were sentenced by Lord Drakin unlawfully for merely violating a minor ordinance. These men burn with hatred at the castle and would be glad to harm anyone associated with Lord Drakin. Still others, regardless of their kind hearts, would do anything just to be free – just to live." Evron sighed. "I was imprisoned simply for leaving the castle to carry a message to my family. I bear no real enmity for the garrison, but only for Lord Drakin, who is now dead. I am sure there are others who feel as I do, who shun the shedding of blood, but I could never find out who they are."

Britton looked up, he spirits slightly dampened at the older man's words.

"Leave that to me, Evron."

With that, Britton turned from the catapult and was about to walk away, when Evron laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not think, Britton, that you will certainly escape notice. Lord Traius is master at present, and he and his men see all." He paused and subtly pointed toward a low tower built into the wall. "Lord Traius constantly keeps watch from that point. We are convicts, Britton, to him, and any suspicion of treachery will bring his men upon us. If he can kill the garrison, he can certainly kill you."

Britton nodded and walked off toward the men, Evron watching him with a nervous glance.

Britton appeared to be doing his job well. He quickly entered into conversation with convicts, talking to them and frequently laughing. After a time, he would walk away, leaving the convicts where they were or pointing them to the catapult where Evron was stationed. Britton was almost halfway around the wall, and Evron entered into earnest conversation with the five men who had joined him.

Suddenly, Evron looked up with surprise as he heard an oaken door opening. He turned his head sharply to look. Behind the same door where Britton had been eavesdropping only minutes before, a dark figure had emerged and was headed toward them. As Evron looked more closely, he saw a red dragon emblazed upon the figures black garments. He knew what was going to happen.

"You men," the dark warrior called to the six convicts gathered around Evron's catapult, "Lord Traius has ordered you to fire down upon the garrison. He has been patient too long. Send the message down the line."

The six men were silent. They bore a look of determination upon their face that was all too evident.

"Well, you have the order, so fire. On pain of death, fire!"

The men silently looked over the courtyard walls. There, silently walking around in anxious and despairing manner, were a crowd of men, hundreds strong. The convicts grew more angry by the moment. Evron steadied them and replied. "We shall not do as you have said. We cannot slay the lives of men who have stood for what they believe to be the truth."

"How dare you!" shouted the guard, drawing his sword. By this time, the surrounding convicts had rushed to the scene. The men knew the evil within many of their hearts. If Lord Traius condemned the six to death, he would certainly reconsider releasing the rest, who could also be treacherous. Britton, too, had rushed up, striving anxiously to reach the six men.

The black soldier ordered them one last time to fire upon the garrison. They were just about to refuse, when Evron called out with a slight smile, "Men, it is useless to resist. They want us to fire, and so we shall."

The other five men, instantly understanding him, turned the catapult at an angle, so as to point it toward the great castle gate, the center of the three exits to the courtyard. The garrison jumped back, terrified lest the catapults should fire on them.

With a great shout, Evron cried out, "Fire!." Instantly, a great stone was seen streaming through the air and hurtling into the castle gate. Although strong, it was not designed to withstand such a strong blow at so close a range. It was broken open with a great crash, at which the garrison gave a great shout.

Lord Traius' soldier and the scum of the dungeons, however, were outraged. They instantly made for the six convicts.

Britton, who had watched with amazement the success of his original plan, now saw with horror that his only allies were to be destroyed without mercy. At the moment when it was needed most, he had no plan.

Rowan, Lady Arwen, Sir Elviron, and the other knights and nobles of their party slowly tramped through the forest. William at the head of the weary party was leading them to one of his and Kathryn's favorite hideouts. Where they were younger, the siblings had discovered it on accident and used to pretend they were dragons roaming about their secret cave. Before leaving their previous camp, William had used his knife to cut a message to Kathryn in a tree. Careful not to give anyone else the information of their whereabouts, he had just said "At Liar's Lair", the play name Gradlem had given the little cave. He knew only Kathryn, Britton, Gradlem and himself would know the significance of the carving. ?After a good hour of walking, they arrived at what would be their home for the time being. Each dropped down exhausted onto the ground and were soon fast asleep. ?~~~~~~ ?Rowan awoke with a start, something had disturbed his sleep. ?"Sir Quinn? Sir Quinn?" he quietly called out in the darkness to his dear friend, but after a moment of silence the dreadful truth reoccurred to his mind. ?The young count choked back tears, "This is going to be a lot harder than I thought." ?He tried to compose himself, what was it that had troubled him so? ?"Oh, I must have been dreaming," he though. "About that traitor Sir Myles. What was it he said? 'You are the prince'? What strange last words. The prince of what? And why was he looking at my sword when he said it? Did he say that because I won our sword fight and he thought I was the prince of swordsmanship?" ?That seemed way too ridiculous to Rowan. There were many men far better at swordsmanship than he. He wouldn't even have been able to beat Sir Myles had not the traitor been so full of himself and already wearied from his first engagement.

Rowan laid down, shut his eyes, relaxed his frame, and tried to fall asleep again. But those strange words kept running through his head "you are the Prince." 
Suddenly, from his left came the sound of rustling leaves and a snapping of a twig. Rowan froze, and strained his ears to listen for another noise.

He glanced rapidly back and forth, watching the green walls of the tiny opening in the forest. The liar's lair, as William said, was a place that truly had an air of imagination and even enchantment about it. Although outside the green hedge-like walls the air was loud with the sounds of birds and forest-creatures, inside was quiet as a pond in the autumn. It was filled with soft grass and one or two trees. The knights and nobles of the party not on watch lay in a great circle around a smaller circle of arranged stones, within which burned the embers of a small fire. Fortunately, the small refuge could be left very easily, preventing such crises as had occurred the previous day at the cliffs. 
In such a heavy atmosphere of quiet, Rowan could not help letting his mind wander. He thought about all that had happened, his mind once again resting on the tragic death of Sir Quinn. He thought about his unfortunate injuries throughout the past several days. Lady Arwen had applied a salve similar to that borne by Sir Quinn, and his wounds had nearly healed, but he still wished he could have been well enough to have better helped Sir Quinn. 
He heard yet another sound, this time coming from a very close distance. Rowan' mind once again snapped to attention. Although the green walls were thick, he knew that very loud sounds could still carry through. He resolved to find out the cause of the sound, as it could very well have come from the Council's spies. 
He first approached the two guards, William and the Baron DuBatz, and asked if they had also heard the sound. They said that they had, but they didn't think it anything but branches breaking as a result of the wind. 
Rowan, unconvinced, asked permission to briefly exit the liar's lair. Baron DuBatz, who had gained great respect for Rowan after his conduct the day before, allowed him to find the cause of the sound. 
"Be careful, Rowan" called out the Baron. "We need you to be present at our council of war later today. We cannot afford to lose you." 
Rowan nodded, then quietly made his way through the hedge walls of the clearing and found himself in the forest. He again strained his eyes. For the longest time he saw nothing, but as his sight adjusted to the darkness, he thought he saw the form of a man lying face-down in the earth. Glancing around to make sure it was not a trap, Rowan approached the figure. 
As he came nearer, it became clear to Rowan that the man was wounded. He rushed over and tried to see if he could help. 
"Stay away, you vermin!" the man cried in terror, opening his eyes. "I will not be your servant. I serve the king and the Order!" 
Rowan quickly replied. "Do not be frightened. I am a member of the Order. I am here to help." 
The man smiled, then sighed. "Praise God I was brought here in my final ravings, but it is too late." He visibly gasped for breath. "Send this message to the king: all our western fortresses are destroyed. We are slain to the last man." 
Rowan started in horror as the man closed his eyes and drew his last breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the intense moment that followed, Evron gave the terrified Britton a quick, meaningful glance. Evron nodded, and Britton understod his intentions completely. At the top of his lungs Evron, yelled to the five convicts who had sided with him. 
“Jump!” 
They quickly and proptly obeyed his orders. The followers of Lord Trauis, using their blades, slew two of the six as they took a leapt off the forty foot wall. The others screamed as they fell in mid air. “Falling, falling to their deaths,” thought Britton. In that split second that he had before looked over at Evron he had seen him smiling. “How could he smile?” thought Britton again. He soon found out. 

The four remaining men stood up sputtering and laughing.
“A water trough! What is it doing here in the courtyard? They must have changed since I have been here!” Said Britton, laughing hard. The men below laughed also.
“Hurry!” said Evron in a commanding voice. “We must follow the soldiers out the gate. Blend in!”
“Stop, you fiends!” yelled Lord Traius, bursting through the door of the tower and onto the wall where the men were stationed . Then to the exconvits manning the catapults,
“Stop them from getting out those gates!” They proptly replied by shooting the catapults at the escaping men.
The soldiers in the courtyard ran toward the gate as they heard Lord Trauis’ command. They knew he would stop at nothing to get his own way and to take their lives. Many men were killed by the catupults, but the others rushed out as fast as they could to avoid the same fate.

Running with all his might, Evron led the other 3 men in a mad dash across the courtyard to the gate. His breath came in grunts and gasps, and his sword banged uncomfortably at his side with each step, but he pressed on.
"Come on, we are almost there!" he managed to gasp out. "Keep runn-" but his words were cut off, as the gate swung inward with a heavy crash, and a plume of dust. Evron stopped short of the gate, and the other 3 men nearly ran into him. Outside the gate was a battering ram, and 5 battalions of soldiers, under a familiar banner. It was, in fact, the banner of the Council of Lords, black as night with one long stripe of crimson red stretching from one diagonal to the other.
Already the garrison had rushed out of the deadly fire of the catapults and into the hands of the Council's soldiers. There was terror and consternation in the air as, under a withering fire from the walls, the soldiers explained the situation to the leader of the newly arrived troops.
That leader was Sir Denvoir, the very commander who had a couple nights before deserted Lord Arsoth and journeyed with his two hundred men to capture Lord Traius. He turned purple with rage upon hearing of Lord Traius' ruthless slaughter of the garrison. Already over two hundred had fallen at the hands of the catapults.
Sir Denvoir ordered the disordered garrison to retreat beyond the range of the weapons on the wall; then, upon seeing the convicts, he determined to question them briefly as to how they had come to be with the garrison.
Evron began to explain how the four, imprisoned under Lord Drakin, were released by Lord Traius for the purpose of slaying the garrison, but Sir Denvoir held up his hand.
"You were imprisoned by Lord Drakin?" he asked in a tone of anger.
"Yes, commander."
"And you still had the audacity to escape your confinement?"
"We had little choice, my –"
"Silence!" yelled Sir Denvoir. "For violating your lawful sentences, you shall all die."
A gasp arose from all present. They little expected the convicts' brave deed would earn such a reception.
Sir Denvoir rose to quickly deal the blow with his sword, but the soldiers from the garrison intervened."These men are the cause for our escape!" said one of the captains. "If it weren't for their brave action of breaking open the door, we would not be alive."
Sir Denvoir paused, his sword in hand. "Very well. The Council shall give you pardon for your offense. Let us off to the attack! I have little time to spare on such small matters."
The four men breathed a sigh of relief, but the garrison instantly stiffened.
"Do you mean to say, Sir Denvoir," said the same captain, "that we are going back into the castle?"
"Of course! My orders are to capture the traitor Lord Traius, and your orders are to guard that castle. Seeing that we both have unfulfilled duties, I think it wise that we return."
Another soldier stood forward. "But how are we to get in? The best we could do is make the courtyard, and there the two gates that lead further into the city are barred and locked. It would be certain death with so few of us!"
Sir Denvoir paused for a moment, lost in thought. He was an evil man, but he had a courageous sense of duty. He knew that, no matter the cost, he must remove that scourge of the land – that villain Traius. Still, how could he go up against such odds? The fact was, he couldn't. If only the other gates could be felled, there would yet be a chance.
Suddenly, Evron gave a shout. "I have it!" he cried. "Britton!"

Chapter 15

Rowan rushed inside Liar’s Lair to tell the others the terrible news.

“What is the matter, Rowan? You are a pale as death!” Baron DuBatz said as he looked into Rowan’s eyes with a look of concern.

“That is what I have witnessed, Baron! Death has just occurred”

William and the Baron DuBatz started in surprise. “What do you mean, Rowan?”

As Rowan related the story, both William and the Baron DuBatz showed a look of concern that grew into a dark frown.

“This is indeed a terible tragedy. We must go tell the others after we have burried the messenger. Not a moment is to be lost. There is an ever more pressing need to figure out what we must do next.”

And with that, they set off to do what they had stated.

“But the Council would assuredly be in that part of the country, which, as you must know, would make it unreasonable to go further with your plans!” Shouted Sir Caston with some anger.

The discussion of the party’s next plans had become a very heated argument. Sir Elviron and Sir Caston desired to go west toward the mountains and the recently destroyed fortresses to see how much damage had been done and to avenge those who had slain their comrades. The Count of Terema, the Baron DuBatz, and Lady Arwen believed that the best plan was to go toward the South and warn those of the Order there of the great danger they were in. The rest of the party was devided equally between the two groups.

As their argument continued, Rowan looked blankly through the hedges that surrounded Liar’s Lair. He was not at all thinking about the best plan, but was again thinking about Sir Myles last words. “You are the Prince!” rang through his head. He heard that King Archen once had a son he sent away for safe-keeping . He had even heard that the prince’s name was changed and that the son did not know he was the prince, so that if questioned he could not tell it to the Council. “Could I be…NO! Unthinkable! I am a orphan, a deposed noble who was the son of deposed nobles, not even worthy to see the king face to face. Then again, Sir Quinn did say once that I was not an orphan. He never told me why…Still, it can’t be!” Even then, as he thrust those thoughts out of his head, they kept returning. “Why can’t I forget those words?”

But as the argument got louder and louder, it inturupted his thoughts and made him listen to the arguments. Sudenly He heard the sound flesh striking flesh. He turned around and saw that Sir Elviron had struck the Baron DuBatz in the face. Finaly Rowan came to his senses,

“Listen to yourselves!” Rowan shouted, jumping to his feet. “You sound like little children. As Sir Quinn would say, ‘Being angry is like holding a burning coal and believing that it is burning someone else. No matter what you think, you are the one who gets burned.’ You might be fighting over a important subject but it is not worth wasting time, energy and...friendships over. We are all here to make this land a kingdom that serves the Almighty. If that is truly our goal, we should in all ways act like his servants.”

The others were quiet. One and all, they bowed their heads in shame, thinking over what Rowan had said.

“What a authoritative way he said that.” Thought Lady Arwen to herself. “Really, he is the most worthy of us to be in command.” Then aloud,

“He had a right to say that. We have all been selfish.”

After a moment’s pause, Sir Elviron walked over to the Baron, who was still rubbing his jaw. “We’re sorry. We did not mean to get so angry over it. Are you all right, Baron? I am extreamly sorry about the blow. I guess I got a little excited.”

The Baron DuBatz rolled his eyes playfully, “A little?” He said touching his cheek and wincing at the pain.

After that the discussion was a peaceful talk between all present. Each party again gave their opinion as to which way they should go. Rowan listenined attentively to their words. After they had had their say, he sat thoughtfuly thinking.

Lady Arwen then asked, “Rowan, do you have a suggestion as to what we should do?”

Finally, he presented his thoughts. “I would say that going south would be the best idea. If we go west, the Council’s armies could be all that we find. We cannot afford to lose another man. If we continue south, we might just meet the King and the army. That is, if they are still alive and safe.“

The others talked a little more on the subject and finally came to an agrement.

“Well then, my lords,” said Lady Arwen with a smile, “We will head south in three days’ time. That should give us enough time to wait for young Britton and Kathryn.”

Kathryn sat down on a rock and buried her head in her hands. What had happened to Sir Quinn and the young Count? She couldn't find them anywhere. She felt as if she had failed her mission and she wanted to cry.
"Oh Lord. Help me." She sighed, choking back tears.
At that moment, it occurred to her that, not only were the nobles missing from the dungeons, but all the prisoners. There weren't even any guards.
Were the prisoners stuck in the courtyard with the soldiers? Or had they all been massacred when Lord Traius had captured the castle?
Kathryn desperately hoped it was not the latter. But then, why wouldn't Britton have told her if the prisoners were with the soldiers? Perhaps in the intense pressure of the situation, he hadn't thought about it.
Either way, she must know. This task had been assigned her, and she must find out what had happened to the nobles.
She stood up and darted toward the rest of the castle, but as she turned out from the dungeon passageway, she ran smack into a tall man with a long sword in a sheath at his side. There was something bright red across the back of his dark cloak.
Terrified, the girl staggered back and turned to run from him, but a strong hand grasped her arm. She kicked and pulled, desperately trying to free herself.
"Stop your struggling or you will die!" He said, pulling her around to face him.
Kathryn shrank from his awful gaze. Resistance was futile.
"That's better" He said with an evil laugh. "Perfect timing I must say, young lady, I was just in need of a messenger."

Kathryn put one hand behind her back, and slipped it into the hidden pocket behind the leather belt around her waist.

"What do you want from me?" she said, face to face with the man. His dark eyes bored into hers, and his features split into an evil smile.

"Only for you to deliver this mess-"

"Lord Traius!" shouted the horrified Kathryn in the middle of his sentence, recognizing the man from his many visits to the castle as chief agent of Lord Drakin. "You – You – are you really him?"

"Of course! I have much to accomplish and will not at all be troubled if you are hurt in the process. If you want to stay alive, you will not struggle or speak unless I tell you to. When we get up to the wall, I will point you the way to the enemy forces outside the walls. You will go to them and urge them to surrender. Say that no hope remains if they attack and that, if they don't surrender, a thousand of my troops shall come from the north and cut them down. "

Kathryn knew that Traius' threat was a lie, but she also knew that it was useless to resist. With anyone else she would have instantly made a run for escape, but with Lord Traius, she knew that she hadn't a chance. He would kill her for disobedience. Lord Traius was not respecter of age. No matter the danger, she must obey or perish.

Lord Traius, dragging her along by the arm, brought her up the stone stairs nearby and out onto the courtyard wall, the scene of the great struggle of only a few minutes before.

With her free hand, Kathryn felt the small dagger that lay concealed at her side, a gift of William's a year or two back. It had been given as a toy, meant only to be used in their imaginary battles at liar's lair, but Kathryn now thought that it could be the means of her escape. She could never have harmed someone with it, but she felt that, were she tied up or put in the dungeon after completing Lord Traius' task, she could free herself and make her escape.

It was still dark when they stepped onto the wall. By the light of the torches, though, Kathryn saw the figures of over a hundred men, helpless and groaning, on the courtyard floor. Everywhere, the destruction of the catapults was seen, and Kathryn had never before seen such devastation, not even when her village had been burned.

She turned to Lord Traius, fear and anger in her eyes. So overcome with emotion was she that she could only gasp out the words. "How could you?"

Lord Traius, who had been talking to his five men in a malicious voice, suddenly turned around and said "I said SILENCE!" In a flash of anger, he struck Kathryn a heavy blow across the face with his gloved hand.

With a cry, she fell to the ground. Exclamations of surprise rose from the convicts who saw. Although they knew Lord Traius' reputation for brutality, they little knew how evil and ruthless he truly was. Only Lord Traius' soldiers were silent at the cruel blow.

With a shout of outrage, one of the convicts, a boy only about sixteen, flung himself upon Lord Traius. Although armed with only his fists, he pummeled and battered until Lord Traius' supporters broke up the conflict.

Lord Traius rose, wiping his bloodied lip. At such close quarters, he had been unable to use his sword. He then rose, his face almost purple with anger.

The soldiers drew their swords to kill the rash boy, but Lord Traius held up his hand. "You are needed on the walls," he said. "Until this girl recovers, we will need to prepare for another attack. I on the other hand, shall have this pleasure."

With that, he drew his sword and advanced to slay the boy. In the brief moments while he was speaking to the soldiers, however, another, silent, conversation was occurring.

The boy, held fast in the arms of Lord Traius soldiers, glanced on the ground at the friend he knew so well. She, still disoriented and overcome with pain, failed to look up for a long time. When she did raise her eyes, she opened her mouth at the sight of Britton, dressed in convicts clothes and apparently about to be executed.

Their eyes met, and Kathryn glanced at her dress, beneath which was the precious dagger.

Britton nodded, and just as Traius began to advance upon him, he gave a violent shove, driving his elbow into the chest of the man who held his right arm. With a cry, he released his grip. This allowed, in one split instant, for Kathryn to reach down, draw her dagger, and toss it quickly up to Britton. In a flash Britton caught it and, with a loud cry, thrust it at the man who held his other arm. He too let go and, in the small moment when the infuriated Lord Traius raised his sword to deal a death blow, he jumped to the left, burst through the crowd of men and, slashing as he went, made for the other catapults.

As the vast majority of the convicts had left their posts to watch the fight between Lord Traius and Britton, the lad was able to make his way almost without opposition, to the furthest catapult. With a grunt, he spun the machine around and pointed it directly at the gate which commanded the entrance to the inner fortress. He knew that, although what he was going to do might make the Council commanders of the city, he would be avenging the deaths of of the Garrison and of the village of Dwenden. He might even be able to save Kathryn in the confusion.

The crowd of convicts had almost reached him when, with a loud cry, he released the mechanism and sent a large stone into the gate. As with the other, this broke open with a great crash. Avoiding the hands grabbing at him and the swords raised to strike, he leaped over the wall. Only this time, there was no water-trough to break his fall.

Chapter 16

Earlier that evening, Lord Arsoth and his men arrived breathless at the small clearing in the woods, pursued closely by a small band of warriors.

"There must be hundreds of them, Lord Arsoth!" cried one of his captains, panting with want of air. "Did you see that fire, and how our men fell by the dozen? Only an army could have done this."

Lord Arsoth snapped back in a voice that showed he was far from wearying. "Do you think I do not know that, captain? From the direction the body came upon us, we can see that they have cut down all our scouts. I don't see how they could have got through Sir Denvoir's defenses, but it has happened, and we cannot change it. They cut through and, in preventing our escape, have cut us down. Still, I am willing to test their nerve. Even an army can waver if the other side shows a bold face."

He paused for a moment. His reeling band of men stopped immediately, placing their shaking hands against the trees. Lord Arsoth called out.

"Here is a defensible place. This clearing stands on rising ground, and the enemy cannot see it until he finds himself on clear, open ground. There are a full two hundred of us left, and we could face this band of rebels and beat them too, I say. I know they surprised us. At their hand and the hand of their friends in the cave, we have lost three-quarters of our number. The slain were not simply unfortunate casualties of war, they were your brothers, cousins, and sons! It is time we do our duty, stand our ground, and be avenged. Down with the accursed rebels! Long live the Council and the Count of Omb!"

The other soldiers gave a half-hearted cheer. Although they respected their leader, they also knew that they could not resist forever. No other force of the Council was near to support them, and they had no provisions. In addition, they had no idea of the numbers of their adversaries. As far as they knew, an army was coming to destroy each and every one of the party. They listened to the nearing cries of the pursuing party and, drawing themselves up in formation, stood silent, each soldier possessing a great feeling of uneasiness.

Meanwhile, the band of nobles, the same that had so valiantly attacked Lord Arsoth's men in the act of capturing the king, ran swiftly through the forest in pursuit of Lord Arsoth, giving great cheers as they went.

They had traveled long since they had split off from the great party led by Sir Quinn, Lady Ariana, and Lady Makennah. They were, in fact, the same thirty nobles who had left to meet the king days before when Sir Quinn and Count Ronan went to the Castle of Carivia. After a perilous journey that had delayed them long, they had reached the secret abode of King Archen. Arriving just in time to see the charge of Lord Arsoth's soldiers into the cave, they were filled with grief and, in a desperation, sought to avenge their friends.

They had been surprised at the strange absence of the Council's guards behind and around the cave's entrance, but they determined to use it to their advantage. Although maddened at the cries of their comrades – yells they took to be their last – they worked steadily at the creation of large piles of firewood, drenched by flasks bearing the same type of oil that Britton saw used in the castle of Carivia. When the fight was heard to be over and the calls of the council still echoed in the cavern, the party put their plan into action.

They lit the wood and, giving a mighty shove, they thrust it from over the cave's entrance right into the path of the Council's men. The pile on the right failed to burn, but the pile on the left was caught up in such a mass of flames that it would have been impossible for Lord Arsoth's soldiers to have retreated in that direction.

The courageous band of the Order positioned themselves behind the trees to the right of the cave entrance, and as the soldiers poured out in a panic and began marching into the forest, they quickly and silently employed their swords.

In the darkness and confusion, they were not noticed by the commanders. After many had fallen, however, Lord Arsoth realized the danger and gave the order for instant and hasty retreat, at which point the Council's men broke out in a run. They were then pursued by the nobles to the clearing mentioned by Lord Arsoth.

Here the Council's men had positioned themselves on top of the rocky hill in three lines, each composed of around seventy men. Lord Arsoth stood at their head, his eyes glistening and his mouthing displaying a cruel smile.

"Now, men," he said. "They will be here before a minute has past. Remember, this is not to be a last stand. This clearing is so sudden the the front ranks will be in the middle of it before the notice can be given. They are disordered and at our mercy. When they come, slay them all."

The troops gave a grim laugh.

Lord Arsoth continued. "If they keep on, come back to the hill and we will show them the taste of our blades!"

Seconds later the party of nobles, praying that the Almighty would deliver the enemy into their hands, found themselves unexpectedly in the clearing, at the mercy of their greatest adversaries.

"Charge!" cried lord Arsoth. The great army of the Council, terrifying in the moonlight, swept down the hill, swords lifted high.

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Hi, all! The story is now 39, 219 words long. We have almost reached official novel length (right now, we are in the range of a long novella, a slightly shorter type of book.) At this rate, we should easily equal the average number of words in Mr. Black's books. Only a couple thousand words left (about five posts), just to show some perspective. Great job everyone! :) )

WOW! That is awesome. How many chapters are there in all so far?

(We are right in the middle of Chapter 16. Have you been reading the story? If so, what do you think? :) )

(She's my sister!! :) So…how long do you think until this story is wrapped up and we can start on the sequel? (Sorry, I think WAAAAAAAAAAY in advance! :) Lol)

No, that's merely thinking slightly ahead. Thinking way in advance is planning your friend's Christmas presents in July.

That's not that far ahead. Lol

( Are we even going to do a sequel? Shouldn't we wait till we see if it is popular and what if this book has the PERFECT ending? Should we spoil it? But it would be fun to write a sequel or another book :)!!!!!)

Destroy it, Make the fans so angry that they will be satisfied only by another book. Kill almost everyone, and have the enemy win.

(Exactly! If the fans are left with a feeling of uneasiness (in a good way) and the knowledge that the Prince's cause is nearly hopeless, they will be forced to come back for more. Mwahaha! The genius of it! Anyway, back to the story…… :) )

Lol!!

Oh yeah? I've already started naming my kids! Beat that!

I've also started planning what toys my kids will play with!

( Seriously. )

(Name a few.
EDIT: Actually, I think I can think of one. Lego.)

(LOL! )

(Sure! I'm over there!)

( LEGO, Ultrasabers, possibly HALO action figures, more likely NERF. There's a few. )

facepalm u really like talking about this don't u????? Lol

( Yes I do Dani! Is it that obvious? )

Lol I'm saving like a my toys for my kids, PLAYMOBIL, Webkinz, my little poneys etc. etc.

(Hi, all! I am sorry to (once again) be a party spoiler, but in order to get the page to load more quickly and to be more organized, we need to avoid too much side chatter. I know you are trying to move over to SC3, but if, in the process, you could delete or save your posts, and put them over there, that would make more room on this thread. :)

By the way, though, you guys are hilarious. :) )

( Dani. Do not. Tell me. That any of your boys will be Bronies. Just tell me they won't. )

(Umm… bronies are the scariest things in the entire world. Don't get me started. :) )

( I'll save mine when I get to a computer tomorrow Jimmy. Sorry! It's BBJ13's fault!

NOOOOOOOO!!!!! Lol they can't have the LOTR and Star Wars toys. Lol

(I've also started planning what toys my kids will play with!)

Hey I have names for my children and the toys they will play with and what my house will look like :)

(Same. :))

What your house will look like?! Don't get your hopes up! :P
I have a couple names…but not what toys they will play with. All the toys that we have now could totally change by the time we have children. (Except….there will always be Playmobil! :P)

(hmmm, apparently I don't think ahead… :P
but anyway, that is just unbelievable that we've come so far with this! PTL! Whoever would have thought that we'd be writing a whole book!??:)

(Sorry Jimmy - I'll delete my comments and I suggest ahem that you all do the same. :) And btw, IT WAS NOT…well, um…I have nothing to say in reply to SLtoD. )

(@Emily - no kidding! Now, if we can just finish it…I can't imagine having to wrap it up! Maybe it really will be a story that never ends! :))

(Okay, not trying to get off topic again but just wanted to point out that other than the 3 Social Chatting topics, this topic has more posts than any other topic!!!!)

(Yay!)

@Carissa- I assume you've picked out the neighborhood, and are saving up for the money to buy your dream house?

Lol no she'll probably buy property and build a house. :P
Anyway we r really off topic!! Lol :)

(Would someone like to add? :) )

( Who would someone have to add about……I guess I could ask you right now in real life :)………..)

(Exactly! If the fans are left with a feeling of uneasiness (in a good way) and the knowledge that the Prince's cause is nearly hopeless, they will be forced to come back for more. Mwahaha! The genius of it! Anyway, back to the story...... :) )

LOL!!!