HAVENS IN THE STORM

Stephen B. Pearl

This book is dedicated to my beloved wife Joy without whose patience and support it never would have come to pass.

I also wish to offer special thanks to Mark and Kim from my face-to-face writers group and the helpful wonderful people on Critters, epically Andrew for hosting the whole shebang. I also want to thank Melody and the class of the Write to Publish class at Sheridan collage for your input and support.

CHAPTER 1 DEFEAT

Dominel charged a centaur, a third larger than himself and his horse combined. The beast's pike slid against the angle of Dominel's shield, as his lance pierced the monster's chest.

"That's for my brother," he snapped. Before he could free his lance, another centaur closed on him. Drawing his sword Dominel parried the spear thrust.

"Give up, human. Your kind cannot defeat us. Your cavalry's line is broken. Surrender and I will grant you life," threatened the centaur.

Dominel's only answer was to begin circling his foe on the blasted uneven ground that formed a wedge shaped slope leading to Duran pass.

A second centaur and human appeared on top of a slight rise of land behind Dominel's foe. The other human drove his lance point at the second centaur. The beast stepped back but tripped on one of the tree stumps that littered the ground and stumbled into Dominel's foe.

Seizing the opportunity the distraction afforded Dominel charged, knocking his enemy's spear aside, then drawing his blade across the beast's human-like throat. Blood showered Dominel's plate armour, painting it splotchy red. The second centaur turned to face Dominel, only to have its other foe's lance point blossom from its chest.

"My Prince, look out," cried the man who had wielded the lance.

Too late Dominel noticed the mutties diving beneath his horse. He pulled his feet from the stirrups and fell to the ground, rolling as far from the animal as he could. Two child-sized, dog-faced creatures, clad in leather jerkins were gutting Dominel's mount where it stood. Grunting with the effort of rising in his armour, Dominel gained his feet and attacked the mutties, slaying them with two quick blows.

Trumpets sounded the retreat and he glanced about. The centaurs drove the remains of the cavalry before them, leaving the dismounted humans to face an oncoming tide of monstrous infantry.

"The Storm has us for sure," said a panicked voice.

"To me. To me men of Bani. We'll win through to our lines," bellowed Dominel.

"I'm here, my prince," spoke a blood-soaked man.

"Scrantian?"

"Yes, my prince, keep rallying the men. Set them in a wedge formation, wounded in the centre. We'll have to cut our way back to the barricade."

"Standard wedge. If you see a footman's shield on the dead, drop your horseman's kite shield and take it. The dead won't mind!" shouted Dominel.

The unhorsed cavalrymen hastened to follow the order. In minutes the monster infantry enveloped the humans' formation. Screams filled the air as the wounded and dead fell to the ground. At the rear Dominel lost himself in a pattern of thrust and parry barely aware of his growing weariness.

"My Prince. We've reached the front and the cavalry is charging again," called Scrantian.

Dominel thrust with his sword, spilling the guts of a minotaur, then stepped to the wedge's centre.

"They're coming for us, men. Be ready," he yelled.

The horsemen struck the centaurs, who were leading the Storm's charge. Dominel's troops fell upon the monsters advanced force from the rear. The monsters' caught with no room to maneuver jostled one against the other impeding each other's thrusts and blocks. In minutes the humans fought through leaving the beasts that survived to run back to their main force.

Dominel led his men through the log barricade his father had built across the pass his castle guarded. The area behind the barricade was a buzz of activity. Soldiers manned the defence, while chirurgeons removed the wounded to the castle, half an hour's march away. Light siege engines twanged and thudded as they hurled rocks at the enemy and the stench of fear filled the air.

"The king demands your presence," said a herald, as Dominel watched the last of his men pass behind the barricade and its huge gate swing shut.

"I will be with the king as soon as I have seen to my men," replied Dominel.

"He said immediately."

"I may be youngest son, but I have things other than being disowned to worry about right now. I will join him when my men are seen to."

"As you will, Prince Dominel," breathed the herald.

"Was that wise? The heralds like you little enough as it is, and your father is king," said Scrantian. He'd removed the left arm of his armour and was inspecting a small wound.

"Are you fit to command in my absence?" asked Dominel.

"Just a scratch, Your Highness."

"Good. See that the wounded are taken to the chirurgeons' tent. I want any man who can't fight to surrender his horse to one who can. We have more men than horses, so let's use what we have. All the horses should be watered, and send a herald to fetch down a salt lick for them.

Get some lanterns as well. Those accursed clouds that follow the Storm are crowding out the sun. If this keeps up, we won't be able to tell friend from foe. Also make sure the men drink something. No wine! We need them alert."

"Yes, my prince. Might I also suggest we send those with minor leg wounds to join the archers on the keep's battlements. That will free a few more able bodies to join us here."

"Use your own judgment. You know I trust you," agreed Dominel, who then strode away.

Arriving at the flap to his father's tent, Dominel was stopped by the guard and stood listening to the conversation within.

"By the ancient gods, you slime crawling, demon lover. If it weren't for your kind the Storm wouldn't be here at all! You'll go where I tell you, and fight when I tell you," bellowed the King.

"But, your most gracious Majesty. I simply thought that my order could do more good in the keep's temple, praying for our deliverance. The Covetous god can be most gracious to his children," whined the chief prelate's voice.

Dominel's lip curled in distaste.

"Gods and Demons! Your god was the one who caused all this. If your order hadn't slaughtered all the magic users they'd still be guarding the gates to our world. None of these thrice damned monsters would be here in the first place."

"But the sorcerers were evil," pleaded the priest.

"So say you. It seems to me they couldn't have been so bad if they guarded us from the Storm. Be honest. Your order feared their power. You disgust me, you snivelling worm!

"I have spoken. Your order will head the infantry defence. There's no risk of you stabbing someone in the back that way. The only reason I haven't finished off the lot of you, is I needed sword fodder. Now go, you disgusting parasite."

Dominel pulled down the visor of his helmet to hide his smile. The pasty faced priest left the tent, his leather armour flapping about his scrawny frame in his haste.

Sticking his head through the flap, the guard announced Dominel, then gestured for him to enter. Pushing up the visor of his helmet, Dominel stepped into the tent.

"The herald tells me you felt my summons was unimportant," opened the King, his grey-bearded face pulled into a grim expression and his blue eyes flashing.

"I told them I would come as soon as I had seen to my men. The Third Cavalry is my responsibility, given by you, and I do not take it lightly, Your Majesty."

A smile broke across Dominel's father's stern features. He motioned his son to sit at the table that filled the tent's centre. A map of the surrounding terrain covered the tabletop.

"You have your mother's spirit, I'll grant you that, boy. I called you here to give you some bad news." The smile left his face.

Dominel looked at the man and for the first time realised how old he was. It's not just the grey hair and wrinkles, and his armour hides his paunch, it's how he moves. He's lost hope.

"Son, you are my youngest, and you are now captain of the First Cavalry."

"Falik and Dalose? How?" Dominel swallowed hard as memories of his brothers in better times flashed through his mind.

"In the charge. Your companies sent out spotters and found the stake traps. Damn, I told them to be careful. They lost half their horses in the charge. The rest were surrounded, only a handful escaped. I am placing all remaining Cavalry under your command."

"Scrantian suggested sending out the scouts."

"And you listened to him. You keep listening to people who know. I've only you and Falkner left. Seventeen years isn't enough to learn everything, so you keep listening to people who know and maybe I won't lose any more sons."

"I, Father. We won't win, will we?"

"No, but we can see to it that they never forget the price of Duran Pass. The countries to the west are counting on us to slow the Storm while they pray for a miracle. What I wouldn't give for one wizard, but that is not to be.

"You know that peasant girl of yours. Amber was it? She's stayed with the chirurgeons. I was wrong about her. She will make you a fine consort when you marry the duchess, Karmilla."

Dominel smiled at his father.

"Now commander, you should prepare your troops. The Storm are massing and I need your cavalry to spearhead our counter."

The two men rose. For a moment they stood unsure of the emotional ground between them, then they embraced, their armour making a thunking sound, and Dominel left the tent.

As he walked towards his troops Dominel scanned the battlement. Veterans, dressed in battered armour, stood ready for the final conflict in the kingdom of Bani. The wounded had been removed to the keep and a hush had fallen over the camp. Reaching the cavalry he scanned his men. Hopelessness hung on them like a shroud and only grim determination held them in their places.

"What is the word?" asked Scrantian.

"We ride to the defence. Oh yes, there is another thing." Raising his voice Dominel called, "Standard barrier."

A lad, too young to shave, mounted on a dapple gelding moved to Dominel's side. He dipped the standard so the muddy, blood spattered flag of the Bani cavalry hung before his prince.

Drawing a dagger, Dominel cut away the trim that showed it as the flag of the Third Cavalry. All looked on as the unadorned standard of the First Cavalry was raised. Where the trim had been, the flag's colours were bright and clean against the rest of it.

"Dominel, your brothers?" asked Scrantian.

"I am second son of the house of Otinerus King of Bani, Captain of the Bani First Cavalry," Dominel proclaimed as his men looked on.

"I'm sor-" began Scrantian.

"Later. Soon we will live or die. Either way, the time for tears is not yet come."

Dominel watched as Scrantian stared at him, nodded once then spoke.

"I suggest a three‑point attack, allowing the infantry to guard our back. That should draw off the largest beasts and give our light companies a chance to deal with the small ones."

"Yes. I also want every man equipped with caltrops. If we have to retreat, I want to see crippled monsters all across the line."

"That will make any further charges impossible!"

"We have fewer the one hundred horse left. If any of us make it back to the barricade, we won't be attacking again. We'll be running to warn the other kingdoms the Storm is at their doors."

"As you command, my prince."

The First Cavalry waited behind the barricade's gate, with each second seeming like an hour. Guttural howls announced the Storm's advance. Moments later trumpets signalled the attack. The gate swung open and Dominel galloped into the fray.

Lances splintered and swords broke, shields rent and men died, but nothing stopped the Storm.

Dominel and Scrantian galloped into the midst of a company of ogres. The beasts looked like hairless gorillas with pig snouts and faces that mocked man's. Dominel's sword rose and fell as blood sprayed in all directions. A pikestaff hooked his shield, dragging him from his horse and snapping the strap that held the shield to his arm. Dazed he lay on the ground, fighting to rise against the weight of his armour. Scrantian reared his horse, allowing the beast's hooves to pummel the ogre that bent to dispatch his captain. Dominel fought to his feet in time to see a spear pierce his friend's helm, as another slaughtered his steed.

"You murdering bastards," screamed Dominel. Forgetting his fatigue he snatched up his sword and charged the ogre that had killed Scrantian, driving the blade deep into the beast's belly. There was a blur at the edge of his vision, then everything went black.

CHAPTER 2 PERILS ON THE ROAD

Dominel awoke, in the mud, his head throbbing. Through an effort of will, he slowed his heart and brought his pain under control. After a time he opened his eyes, then rose to his knees. The bodies of monsters and men were on all sides. A dead ogre lay beside him, with his sword protruding from its belly. He looked towards the barricade that blocked Duran pass and saw that it was breached in several places. Allowing his eyes to rove up the pass he saw smoke rising from where he knew his father's castle stood.

"My head!" Gods, I must have been out a long time.

Struggling to his feet, he stumbled to the ogre and pulled his sword from its flesh. Then, blade in hand, he staggered across the battlefield. At first he paused to check the fallen humans he saw but finding none alive he soon put all his efforts towards leaving the field of his defeat.

No use in going to the castle. It must be besieged by now.

He shook his head and felt metal scrape against his scalp. Pulling off his helm, he stared at a hole in it the size of his palm.

"Gods!"

Dominel continued his weary trek, collapsing in the tall grass by the side of the road when his legs crumpled beneath him. After drinking from a ditch, he fell into a haunted sleep.

When he awoke, he ached all over.

What am I going to do? Yesterday I merely wanted to get away from the battlefield. Now what? he pondered as he lay in the grass.

"You are the last of our line. You must regain the throne," his father's voice admonished him.

Maybe if this was a human army, but against the monsters there is no hope!

"You must survive," stated Scrantian's voice.

The head blow must be affecting me. I'm hearing things, thought Dominel.

"Live, my lord. The Border Mountains will be safe for a time," spoke the voice of his betrothed.

"That's silly. They were overrun months ago," Dominel muttered.

"The wizards made their last stand there. That magic still lives on. It will keep the monsters at bay, my love," whispered Amber's voice.

"It's a goal at least," he agreed

By rocking back and forth he turned face down on the grass, then pushing up with his arms, gained his feet.

"Damnable plate! At least you can move in chainmail. I feel like a turtle every time I lie down," he grumbled and started towards the distant mountain range.

Hours later he stopped at the ruin of a village. Hunger gnawed at him, so he decided to search the landowner's house. Shuffling through the smashed‑in doorway, he saw bodies and the splintered remains of furniture everywhere.

"Another abattoir. At least the Storm is consistent."

Coming to the second room, he looked in. It was in the same condition as the first. Heat-brittled bone crunched under his feet as he stepped through the doorway. A blackened section marked where a fire had burnt and skulls littered the floor.

Lucky for me the front has moved west. The beasts that made camp here have probably followed the fighting.

He crossed the room to another doorway, which led to what had been a kitchen.

This doesn't look too hopeful.

"Search and ye will find," echoed Scrantian's voice.

"I'm losing my mind. Scrantian, you're dead! Why do you keep pestering me? I couldn't save you. Gods, I wish I could have. Oh what does it matter? I'll search, old ghost, maybe the monsters missed something in their looting."

"Down, my sweet prince, down, my lover," whispered a voice on the edge of perception.

"Amber?" gasped Dominel. He spun around looking for the peasant girl who had been his real love. "Still hearing things! Amber's as dead as the rest."

"Feel, love. The time to feel again has come," urged the voice.

With this he could no longer hold back his pain. He fell to his knees sobbing. Much later he looked at where his legs had disturbed the dust and saw a thin seam in the floor.

What? he thought. Maybe a pantry.

Kneeling, he swept the dirt away until he found an iron ring. Grasping it, he pulled. A trap door opened, revealing a stairway leading into a room that was a man's height square and full of shelves.

Dominel's stomach growled as he descended the stairs, closing the trap door behind him. Something jumped from the shadows. A knife clanged against his armour. Leaping from the stairs, he grasped the wrist of his attacker and slammed it against the wall. The knife fell to the floor and Dominel stared at his foe in the dim light from the pantry's small window. She was human, a girl of maybe thirteen summers.

She had brown hair, which hung in greasy strands obscuring her grit-covered face. She wore rags that might have once been a fine gown. Her young breasts barely dented the fabric and her dirt and blood-covered legs showed below the tattered hem.

"I won't hurt you," said Dominel.

She swung her free hand at his face. He caught her arm and held it.

"Please stop, I won't hurt you," he repeated.

A shudder ran through her and she collapsed against him.

"Gods! What have you been through?" he murmured. Laying her on the floor, he investigated the room.

The shelves were stocked with cheeses, salted meats, dried fruits and herbs. Also, to Dominel's delight, a cask of ale and several bottles of wine. So it was he made to eat. Noticing that the Girl's eyes were open he spoke to her.

"Are you hungry?"

She stared at the ceiling and didn't move.

"I won't hurt you."

She remained motionless.

Dominel moved to her side and took her hand. "Please, speak to me." he said then released his grip. The hand stayed suspended as, if he still held it.

"Odd?" he whispered and lifted the girl's leg. Releasing the limb he watched the girl hold it in position.

"Oh Gods!" He muttered and posed her in what looked like a comfortable position.

Later he removed his armour, found a corner and fell asleep.

Guttural voices arguing in a strange tongue woke him. The girl, on the other side of the room, sat still and silent. He drew his sword and waited by the stairs.

If they want me they'll have to pay for me, he thought. After a time the voices grew dim as the intruders carried their argument away from the ruined house.

Moving to the girl's side he whispered, "Are you all right?"

She stared straight ahead, as if he wasn't there.

"I'm Dominel, prince of Bani. Who are you?"

The girl made no response. Dominel backed away and stared at her.

"Hungry?" he asked.

Still no response.

"Well I am." He took a bite from a cheese. Returning to the girl he pressed a piece of cheese into her hand.

"You have to eat!"

She remained silent.

Dominel forced some cheese against her lips. She opened her mouth and accepted it without losing the blank expression on her face. After she swallowed, he guided the cheese in her hand to her mouth and she began to feed herself.

"That's better."

Later that day Dominel finished searching the landowner's house. He found little of value, although in one room there was an iron mirror leaning against the wall. He stared at his reflection in disbelief. His armour was caked with mud, while his blond hair fell about his shoulders in greasy strands. One side of his head was covered with dried blood and scabs. His angular face was filth-streaked and bore several half‑healed scratches, while his pale blue eyes looked haunted, as if his brothers' ghosts stared out through them.

He shook himself and returned to the safety of the cellar.

"They've fouled the well," he told his silent companion.

The next day he searched the peasant huts, finding a pair of scissors. That evening he and the girl lost all but the scantiest caps of hair.

"That will keep it out of our eyes won't it?"

The girl stared straight ahead and didn't reply.

A week passed with little change. Dominel sharpened his sword, cared for himself and the girl, and waited until the dwindling food supplies convinced him to move on. Fashioning packs from sacks that had held dried herbs he stuffed them with the remaining food. After donning his armour he strapped a pack to the girl's back and shouldered his own. Taking the girl's hand, he led her up the stairs. She followed but showed no sign of life beyond that. After listening at the door he pushed it open.

Once outside they followed the road towards the mountains until they could walk no further, then took refuge in the remains of a barn. Dominel found a well of good water and drank his fill before settling in a heap of straw for the night. Despite his exhaustion, sleep evaded him, so he was awake to hear the girl, who lay beside him, crying out. "No! No! Please no!"

He rose onto his elbow and stared at her.

"No!" she whispered, then sobs shook her body. "Father," she cried then "No! No! No, please!"

Grasping her shoulders Dominel shook her. She snapped awake.

"It was only a dream. We have to be quiet. That's why I woke you," he said but she didn't move.

The next day they walked for hours before coming to a place where a stream split the road. The sound of the water as it splashed and gurgled over the rocks added a spark of life to the dead land that seemed to follow the Storm.

"We'll stop here to eat and move on in a bit," said Dominel.

He was refilling the packs when harsh voices split the air.

"Gods!" he swore, glancing around in search of a hiding place. The grass by the stream was trampled and there were no trees or large rocks near by. Muttering a curse, he reached for his sword.

Two mutties appeared on the road and seeing the humans, leapt down the slope, swords clasped in their childlike hands. Dominel pushed the girl towards the stream. She took two steps and stopped with the water lapping about her ankles.

"Damn," he cursed.

The monsters separated, flanking him.

"Come on, you filthy mutts, stand together," Dominel spat as he turned to face first one enemy, then another.

Yipping, the creatures began to circle him, like dogs wearying a bear. Dominel lunged towards one of the beasts. The other jumped him, clutching his neck, while trying to thrust its sword into the gap in his armour where gorget met breastplate. Dominel slammed the pommel of his sword into the small beast's arm and was gratified to hear bone crunch. The monster howled in pain before dropping to the ground.

The second beast lunged and Dominel thrust his blade through its throat. Grunting with the effort he dragged the impaled carcass around and threw it onto its companion. The mutties fell, in a tangle of arms and legs, and before they could recover Dominel finished his bloody work.

"Pity it's not always so easy," he mumbled, wiping his blade. "Sometimes it seems as if for every one you kill ten arrive."

The days passed and the food dwindled but little else seemed to change. A week after leaving the cellar they drew near the mouth of one of the lesser passes into the Border Mountains.

"Something is wrong, I can feel it," Dominel remarked as the mountains grew to fill the horizon. Pulling the girl to a halt, he examined the road ahead of them.

"Gods and demons! I should have seen it before. Those ruts in the road, heavy carts have used it and not long ago. Only ones who'd use carts around here are the Storm. Well, lass, what do you think of this? Not much, that's just what I expected." Hiding the girl behind a bramble, he crept to the top of a rise that overlooked the surrounding terrain.

His heart quailed at the sight of a company of monsters camped in the entrance to the mountain pass.

The mountains must be safe. Otherwise, why place them under siege. It must be...! he never finished his thought, because a rough hand closed about the back of his neck and his body was jerked into the air. He experienced a moment of blind terror before he was turned to face the horrid visage of a hill troll. Stinking, carnal breath issued from the troll's maw, which was full of razor-sharp teeth. The beast's nose resembled a pig's snout, and above it were two blood-red eyes. Its skin was the colour of a rotting corpse.

"Yum yum!" exclaimed the troll.

Dominel's mind filled with panic. All the troll had to do was close its hand and his neck would be crushed, despite his gorget.

"You be Grim, yum yum, lunch, yes, yum yum," remarked the troll.

Can't get my sword out in time, but maybe? thought Dominel.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," he said.

"Huh?" The troll had a puzzled expression on its face.

"You Grim's, yum yum, lunch," it added after some thought.

"Grim want, yum yum, lunch?"

The troll thought hard, obviously taken aback.

"Yes, Grim want lunch."

"Grim want gold?"

Grim stared at Dominel before replying.

"Yes, Grim want gold, Grim have, yum yum!" So saying the troll smiled as if he had succeeded in some incredible mental task.

"Grim, eat now, yum yum," said the troll. It grabbed Dominel's arm with its free hand and prepared to pull it off.

"WAIT!"

The troll stared at Dominel in a quandary.

Do it right, Dominel thought.

"You can have gold and, yum yum, lunch."

"Grim like gold."

"Well you see, once you've eaten me, I won't need the gold I have hidden in the mountains. So I want to give it to you, as a gift."

"Gift? Why you give Grim gift?"

"Because you're such a handsome fellow and since you're going to marry my sister, you must have a dowry."

"Marry sister?"

"Of course. She's waiting for you below the hill. We can go get her now if you wish."

"Sister not gold," said the troll, now utterly confused.

"First we must get my sister, so she can help carry the gold to you. Since you can't go into the mountains."

"Sister help bring gold. Me bring sister."

"Good! Good! She's just over there." Dominel pointed to where the girl was hidden.

Grim was there in a few strides and picked up the girl in his free hand.

"How come she no move?"

"Well... umm... You see my dear fellow, it's, well... Um... It's because she's overcome with joy to meet you. We better hurry. The sooner you get the gold, the sooner you can eat me."

"Yum yum," replied Grim.

"Oh, but dear me. How are we going to get by your friends in front of the pass? I guess you'll have to share your gold and lunch with them."

"No share lunch. Me, Grim, smart, me get you through."

With that Grim strode away, a human dangling from each hand.

"Me, Grim, have bag, use carry things. You fit good Grim's bag. You gold fit good Grim's bag too," explained the troll.

Dominel soon found himself set roughly onto his feet, with the girl beside him. Grim stared at them with a puzzled expression.

"You sure you bring, Grim, gold, yum yum?"

"Of course I will, Grim. You'll need the gold to care for my sister, now won't you?"

"Grim think gold in mountains. Grim like, yum yum. When Grim eat, yum yum, Grim start with head so, yum yum, don't hurt."

Grim pulled a large canvas sack out from under a bramble and held it open. "Grim say get in sack."

"Thank you, Grim, you're very kind," said Dominel, as he led the girl into the sack. Grim's large hand closed the top of the bag and Dominel felt himself hoisted onto the troll's shoulder.

I can't see anything and the stench, it's worse than the dressing room after warrior practice and the pigsty combined. Gods, I mustn't vomit, thought Dominel as he was jostled by the troll's swaying gait. The sound of harsh voices speaking in strange tongues surrounded him and at one point he felt pawing hands examine the sack as it swayed on Grim's back. Half‑panicked, he elbowed Grim through the fabric. He felt the troll turn and heard a growl. There was an answering phrase, then Grim turned and continued walking.

When Dominel thought he could stand it no longer, the top of the sack opened and Grim looked in.

"Me, Grim, smart! Me bring you other side of camp. Now you get gold, Yum Yum."

"Of course," replied Dominel. Rising, he filled his lungs with clean air. Grasping the girl's hand, he dragged her to her feet.

"It's only a little way up the trail, would you like to come?"

"No! No, Grim go no farther. Magic strong, make Grim old."

"Oh well. We'll be back soon," said Dominel. Taking the girl's hand he led her up the trail into the mountains. Grim watched them climb the pass.

"Thank you Nanny Franks for telling me all those fairy stories. The nightmares were worth it! And thank the gods that trolls are dumb," said Dominel, once they were well away from the troll.

"Yum yum, come back. Me no want gold," called Grim, just before he fell out of sight behind a bend in the trail.

"You wait there. I'll be back when I have your gold," yelled Dominel. Then he added to himself, "and pigs fly over a blue moon!"

CHAPTER 3

FRIENDS ALONG THE WAY

Dominel followed the pass into the mountains until he came upon a cabin. The stable beside it suggested that it had been a relay post for the king's horsemen. He led the girl to the cabin's door and knocked. After a long wait he opened the door and found himself staring at the dangerous end of a crossbow.

"Yur won't be takin' me or mine, yur filthy beasty," threatened the old man holding the weapon. He was a wild figure with grey hair and a beard sprouting off in all directions. His body was clothed in old, loosely fitting leather armour, and a sword hung from his side.

"Believe me, sir, I have no intention of harming anyone," said Dominel.

"Huh, well now yur don't look like one of em beasties. Though yur smell bad a one. What be yur name?"

"I am Dominel, Prince of Bani, last of the line of Otinerus."

"I was thinkin' all yur people be slain."

"Not all. They left me for dead after I was knocked unconscious. I've been making my way to the mountains ever since."

"I be thinkin' yur be tellin' the truth, but how can I be sure?"

"I don't know how I can convince you I am who I say I am, but please put the crossbow down. I'll lay my sword aside, and we can talk. My companion needs rest," said Dominel with a gesture towards the girl.

"Humm... well now... Yur be about settin' yur sword aside and yur can be comin' in."

Dominel leaned his sword against the cottage's wall, then watched as the old man set his crossbow on the table behind him. Holding his palms open and in plain view Dominel stepped into the cottage, then reached back and pulled the girl in.

"Emma, get yurself out here," called the old man.

A door opposite the entry way opened and an old woman with grey hair neatly combed into a bun scurried into the room.

"Now who be this stranger yur havin' in with all them beasties down the way?" she demanded.

The old man made to reply but was cut off by the woman.

"What's this now? A wee lass." She shuffled towards the girl, her plump body jiggling as she walked.

"Now yur comin' in. Taint proper to leave a lass standin' in the door."

"She doesn't talk," said Dominel.

"Aw that be sad, but little wonder. With all the horror this poor lass must a seen travellin' through lands held by them beasties."

The woman took the girl's hand and closed her eyes for a moment. Her brow wrinkled in concentration then she spoke again. "It's a wonder she be alive at all, it is with all the pain in the wee thing."

She led the girl to a seat at the room's central table.

"I made sure she ate," said Dominel.

"And a good thing yur did, or she'd a starved. She's given up on the world she has."

"Come on, lad. If Emma says yur all right, yur be all right. Pick up yur sword, we'll go fer a walk. We be above the Storm's murk here and should be enjoying the sun well we have it," said the old man.

Dominel nodded and allowed himself to be led from the cottage.

"I be Jason. I be the livery master here before them beasties came. Since then me and me Emma have been getting by doin' as we could. Lucky for us the mountains still be safe, but Emma says that won't be lasting."

"Excuse me, your wife seemed to see into the girl. As if she could sense what the girl had been through, is she some kind of sorceress?"

"No, lad, she taint. Least ways not the type yur be praying for. She'd just started her learning when the final battle was fought, nigh on forty years ago. I hid her and she escaped. She don't know how to keep them beasties back. It be sad it be. She can see the wall the old masters built getting weaker, but she don't be knowin' how it were built. She can't be a helping yur."

"Oh."

"I know how yur feel. Seems all the great wizards be slain and taint nothing we can do. Emma tells me the walls won't be breakin' tomorrow. We has sometime."

"Time for what?"

"To live, lad, yur should know where there be life there be hope. Elsewise yur never have gotten this far, now would yur?"

"I guess not."

"Good! Now let's be headin' back to the cottage so's we can be havin' a look at yur lady friend. She be yur sister?"

"No. I met her along the way. She needed help so I helped."

"It be good to know that. That be why we'll win this. We's cares, and the gods be likin' that."

By now they were back at the cottage door. Jason opened it and stepped inside. Dominel followed.

"How be she?" asked Jason.

The girl lay motionless on the floor, at the far side of the room by a small hearth.

"Her body be all right. Her mind it be a different matter," answered Emma.

Emma motioned for Dominel to take a seat opposite her at the heavy wooden table that occupied the room's centre.

"That girl has been through sommet that forced her away from our world. She be living in a world of her own now. It be a guess if she ever comes out of it," she explained.

"Gods! What did she live through? Do you know?"

"I don't be knowing. If I could be sharin' it with her I could be makin' it easier fer her to bear. I could help her, but she be too fare down fer me to reach."

"Isn't there anything we can do?"

"We's can be a prayin', lad. We's can be a prayin'. Fer now the best thing fer her is rest. Yur both been pushed harder than a body should. Yur safe here, so yur should be about restin'."

"I'd appreciate that," said Dominel, feeling like there was a heavy hand pushing him towards the floor.

"That be good. Now we should be about cleanin' and dressin' yur in some new clothes. Yur scent's enough to knock a goblin dead," remarked Jason.

Minutes later Dominel stood dripping wet and shivering beside the glacial stream behind the cottage. He soaped himself then, with a grimace, leapt back into the icy flow. His muscles cramping he scrambled out onto the bank.

"Here, lad, be wrappin' yurself in this," said Jason, holding out a towel."I see you gave your cloths a scrub. I'll be about a hangin' them up and I'll fetch yur armour in as well. Yur be gettin' to the cottage, Emma's orders, and I shan't be crossin' Emma. She's be a nasty one when she be roused,"

Dominel dried himself then with a glance at the blue sky and the pine forest on the valley's slopes walked to the cottage.

No sooner had he entered the little building then Emma pushed a mug of broth into his hand and led the girl towards the stream.

"Me Emma don't be wastin' a minute," remarked Jason, as he stepped through the door. "Yur look a sight better than yur did."

"I feel better."

"I'd be wagerin' on that. Why don't I get Emma's scissors and we can be fixin' yur hair. Must 'ave been chopped by a ghoul to be so ragged and yur beard could stand a trim."

Dominel soon found himself in a chair with Jason clipping and fiddling about him.

"Now that be an improvement."

Dominel looked at himself in a small mirror Jason lent him.

Gods, what a difference, he thought, comparing the face he now saw with the one he had seen in the mirror at the ruined house. This new reflection sported a small, pointed beard that seemed to lengthen his face, while the hair, though short, was well sculpted. What truly caught his attention though were his eyes. The shades of his brothers no longer stared through them. The haunted quality was gone, replaced by a strangeness, vaguely threatening in its aspect. He stared at his reflection, then jerked his gaze away.

"Thank you, I look more myself now. How are my clothes?"

"They be drying nicely." Before Jason could finish his sentence the door opened and Emma walked in, leading the girl who was wrapped in a blanket. The cleaning had done wonders for her. With the cover of dirt and dried blood gone her skin was an olive shade. Her face was pretty, made of soft rounded curves, with a slightly pug nose, while her short, brown hair shone in the light coming from the doorway.

"Well are yur gonna be sittin' there and a starin', or be helpin' the wee'on' to a chair?" demanded Emma.

Dominel stood and helped the girl to a seat. She was still oblivious to her surroundings.

Several uneventful days passed at the cottage and Dominel started doing the heavy work around the place that posed a problem for the old couple. By the second week he felt at home and was pleased that Jason and Emma seemed to welcome his presence. It was thirteen days after his arrival before anything changed. He was stepping out of cottage's door when Emma called to him.

"Be comin' back in the house."

"Very well," he agreed, and took a seat at the table.

"Dominel, I've been watchin' yur. Now I've a question for yur." Emma took a deep breath before continuing. "Would yur be willing to learn the bit of the art I've to teach?"

Dominel's eyes glistened and elation ran through his soul.

A chance to learn any of the lost sorceries. Gods and demons, what an opportunity!

Forcing his voice to remain calm he replied," I would be honoured to take a place as your student."

Emma began to chuckle then laughed loud and hard before speaking again. "Yur and yur flowery talk. I've not much to teach, but what I have be yurs. We'll be startin' tonight."

That night Emma led Dominel to a plateau on the mountainside overlooking the cottage and began his instruction.

"Before anythin' else, yur must be a learnin' how to relax," she began.

"I am relaxed," he objected.

"Nay, yur aren't. Yur no be relaxed before yur can be feelin' every muscle in yur body and knowin' where it be."

"You mean like a warrior before going into battle, where you're totally aware of your body but detached from it?"

"Lad, if yur can be doing that yur near a year ahead of startin'. Show me what yur can be doin'."

Dominel took a stance with his feet shoulder width apart and tilted his pelvis forward for balance. Then taking the three deep, slow breaths his sword master had taught him, he allowed all thought to drain from his mind. He was filled with the euphoric floating sensation of the warrior state, while at the same time he was totally aware of his body. Muscles, nerves, tendons were all within his sensory field, ready to be commanded by his will. He rested in the warrior mind for a few moments before returning to the everyday world.

"Well, lad, that be impressive fir sure. Now, can yur be using it to heal yurself?"

"Heal myself?"

"Aye, yur can be stoppin' bleedin' or makin' yurself stronger in meditation."

"My sword master told me that some can make themselves stronger, or faster. He never mentioned anything about healing."

"Well then, lad, I know where I'll be a startin' yur lessons. Now yur be listenin' to Emma. To be stoppin' the flow of the blood is easy, all yur got to do is..."

Weeks passed and each night Emma took Dominel to the plateau to perform some mystical exercise. Many of the exercises struck him as inane. Who cared how hot or cold his hands were? He kept studying though, snapping up the bits of useful knowledge amongst the seemingly useless dross. Until one day Emma stopped him as he was stepping out of the cottage's door.

"After tonight yur must be leavin'," she stated.

"What?"

"After tonight, yur must be leavin'. I've taught yur all I know and now yur must find yurself another teacher."

"But there are no other teachers. All the masters have perished!"

"Aye, all the masters be gone, but yur meant fir summit more than waitin' fir the shields to fall. Yur must be movin' on!"

"Where?"

"That be what we be about seein' tonight. Now we'd best be going, the night be gettin' on."

As they walked towards the plateau, Dominel observed his surroundings. He could plainly see the blue sparkles of energy that filled the world. Looking skyward, he saw the wall of energy that shielded the mountains. It curved over him like a giant glass bubble. As he watched the shield flickered ominously, then stood firm once more.

"How long will the shield last?"

"I reckon another two or three months where it be now, but I could be wrong."

"What will happen when it crumbles?"

"It won't be crumblin'. It be made so it shrinks when it be too weak to keep its size. It gets smaller and smaller, till it be too small to be guardin' a mouse. It will be years before it shrinks past me cottage, so there be nothin' to worry about. The old masters, they were strong they were. Now shush."

By this time they were at the plateau. Emma instructed Dominel to kindle a fire in the centre of the little flat land and to sit staring into the flames.

"Watch the fire as yur were taught, don't be thinkin'. Let yur mind see in the flames, remember yur want to be knowin' where yur to go."

Dominel sat staring into the fire. Slowly his mind cleared of thoughts. The flames danced before him, gradua