Chapter One

Track Out

Bookish Gwendolyn King sat patiently as her overexcited teachers and near drooling classmates sang The Final Countdown and made obnoxious “do do do, do do do do do do” noises moments from the last bell and their fall track out. Gwen looked forward to these track out breaks, she enjoyed school enough, the work came easy to her and she fit comfortably between popular and dork on the middle school social pyramid, but always pined to escape back to her bed and her books. To her track out was to be spent waking up, closing her bedroom door and escaping into her world of stories and adventures.

Mr. Frank once again announced, at the top of his lungs, “It’s the final countdown!” and the whole of the class, Gwen included, sang the silly do do do riff of that old forgotten song. The bell then rang and Gwen was free.

Her school ran on a special year round calendar. That meant that for every nine weeks of classes, students took a three week break. It was October and her first track out of the school year was here. Most of the students in Gwen’s class would spend the break on family vacations or sleeping in and being slugs. Her family didn’t have any big plans for this track out. Gwen’s mom was a principal at a school not on the year round schedule, so she would be working while Gwen was off. Gwen would be joined on this break by her third grader brother, Forest, and her teacher dad.

Gwen lived in the strange world of teacher parents. Her father, Philip, taught sixth grade English right down the hall from her locker. It was a weird and sometimes embarrassing when her dad and Mr. Frank, her dad’s best teacher friend got together. They sang, teased and generally acted foolish. Middle school teacher and dad, what could she do? The questions asked her were also ridiculous, “Do you call him Mr. Daddy?” a confused classmate had wondered.

So the three of them would be tracking out together, just like they had for Gwen and Forest’s whole school lives. Mostly it was great, vacations to France and England and Montana and Disney when mom was off in July, time to read and explore with dad when not. Gwen had no idea the adventure this track out would take her on.

***

The mass of middle schoolers slowly dissipated, leaving a wrecked and weary hallway in their wake. It always surprised Gwen to see her school is such a state. Humans could be so careless. Gwen always moved the slowest out of her final class as she just had to walk back

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upstairs to her dad’s classroom. None of the racing to the bus or hurrying to the carpool lane for her, no, just a slow walk against the current of students, like a trout swimming upstream.

She entered the room and threw here overburdened backpack on the floor.

“Hi sweetie, how was your day?” asked her father barely looking up from his laptop and the endless parent emails.

“Fine dad,” replied Gwen “How about you?”

“Tiring, let me tell you these last days before break always stress me out. Grades due, packing up, students who think track out should start early, parent conferences, honor celebrations…”

“Right dad,” said Gwen cutting her dad off. “How long til we can leave?”

“Not long, I just have a few emails to get through then we can pack up and go get your brother.”

“Good, I’m ready to get out of here,” said Gwen as she fell into her father’s only comfy chair and pulled out her latest novel conquest.

After thirty more minutes of clicking keys on her father’s laptop Gwen heard here dad announce that they were ready to go. Her dad shut the computer down and packed his bag full of papers to grade, that Gwen knew he would never touch over the break. Her dad then grabbed Phil his classroom pet. Now most classrooms have normal pets like hamsters or fish, not Mr. King, no he had to be different and have a class plant as a “pet.” And not to be too normal he named the plant Phil because it was a philodendron. Hilarious!

Gwen and her dad then made the short walk from their middle school across the parking lot to Forest’s elementary school. Sometimes she made this journey alone, when her dad was in a meeting or something, and sometimes they made it together. Today they looked like a strange pair a slightly skinny sixth grade girl with a turtle shell of a backpack and middle aged man carrying a philodendron with a sticker on the pot reading, Hello my name is… Phil.

Forest came walking down the hall toward the two of them, his superhero backpack as strained as his sister’s. Other little kids scooted past looking for parents or rushing to bus lines and carpool pickups.

“Hi buddy, how was your last day?” asked Mr. King.

“It was fine dad,” replied the tired third grader.

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“That’s all I’m going to get out of you two… fine?” mimicked dad in a low slothy voice.

“Yes dad fine,” responded the siblings in unison.

“Geeze, it was a last day, you know how they go, have a party and turn on a movie, don’t you always say a dark room is a happy room?” said Gwen.

“Yes, I guess I do,” giggled her father. “Now let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

The three of them crashed through the doors of the school and off to their car and home for a well deserved and much needed three week break.

Chapter Two

Home and bored

The first weekend of a track out always just feels like a regular weekend, everyone was off and the family did typical family things. Trips to the farmers market, walks around the neighborhood, movie nights and piles and piles of laundry. It’s not until Monday morning that things start to change. Gwen’s mom got up and got herself to work before any of the other three family members even thought about rousing themselves from their peaceful and warm beds. Most first Mondays of track outs are restful days without a lot on the schedule. This Monday was no different. Philip got up and poured himself a cup of coffee. Forest lumbered down the stairs, hair looking like he might have jammed a fork in a light socket just after brushing his teeth. Gwen did what she had been doing since the age of five…she got up, closed her bedroom door, got back in bed and started reading. It was possibly the most perfect place in the whole world.

Philip got breakfast for Forest and himself as he danced back and forth between Sportscenter and the internet. Philip liked to stay in the know, but track out was really the only time he had to really sit down in the morning and catch up on the news. He ate and watched TV, he drank coffee and checked email and Twitter all while Forest played FIFA video games and Gwen happily read away up in her bed.

The morning eased into midmorning and finally Philip yelled up to Gwen to start coming downstairs. Gwen reluctantly put down her novel and got herself dressed. After a quick stop in the bathroom for hair and teeth she was on her way down the stairs for forced family bonding time.

“What’s on the agenda for today you two?” called Philip as Gwen and Forest huddled together on the living room sofa.

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“Stay home and read,” shot back Gwen as Forest added “I don’t care.”

“Well let’s do something, I’m bored already and we have only been really tracked out for like four hours,” said Philip. “I know, it’s really a nice fall day let’s have lunch and then go down to the art museum and walk around the park. We can even walk to all the way to Whole Foods and I’ll buy you both Oranginas.”

“Yea, that sounds OK,” said Forest. “I like that little Hobbit house thing they have in the woods out there. Whole Foods is a long walk, I’m not sure I want to do that.”

“Come on Forest, if we walk to Whole Foods then we get an Orangina and I bet we can talk dad in to letting us go to Quail Ridge Books next door,” replied Gwen.

“OK, bookworm, Dad can we get a book at Quail Ridge?” asked Forest.

“We’ll see buddy,” smirked Philip knowing that the answer to that question was almost always a yes from him.

So the trio continued their morning and had a lunch of grilled cheese and carrots and then piled into the family Rav-4 with a heading south toward the North Carolina Museum of Art.

Chapter Three

NC Museum of Art

The North Carolina Museum of Art was a special place for the King family. It was a near their house and easy to get to. It had moved into a semi-suburban area back in 1983 and had loads of land that had been developed into a first class art park. The family had spent summer evenings watching movies out under the stars, watched concerts and plays, celebrated Earth Day and just loved the museum and park for years. It had always been a bit of a go to activity for Philip as it was close by and therefore easy to get to, and it was interesting and best of all it was free.

Philip turned the aging Rav-4 into the upper parking lot of the museum past the five colorful dancing flags that festooned the granite sign announcing the museum. They found a parking spot with ease. Being a track out break for only part of the massive Wake County School System most of the students were in classes today and the parking lot was only scattered with a few moms with toddlers in strollers and the Tour de Raleigh biker guys that liked to dress up in their onesie bike outfits and fly around the short paved paths like they were Lance Armstrong.

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It truly was a picture perfect fall day in the south. They sky was a brilliant sapphire and air had lost that southern humidity that liked to hang in the air for more of the summer than people really cared for. The three Kings dressed simply in shorts and t-shirts on this lovely fall day started their walk talking aimlessly about not much at all. As they came around the bend in the path they looked to their left out over an open spot in the park back toward the museum. It was a great gradual grass hills that lead down to the area where summer movies and concerts were held.

Gwen looked over the grassy hill and asked “Do you remember flying the kite with the camera attached dad?” Remembering the time when Gwen was seven and her dad had found a book called Geek Dad full of nerdy activities to do with your kids. Philip had his mind set on flying their Flip Camera under a host of helium filled balloons. He had the plans and everything set, but was dashed by the simple fact that getting enough helium balloons together to safely fly their Flip Camera was going to be expensive. His hopes dashed, Philip decided that if it was windy enough they might be able to use a kite they had. Gwen and her dad fashioned a support for the camera out of craft sticks and attached the whole thing to the string of a kite. They then came to this spot and made several attempts to get the now very heavy kite off the ground. They managed a few successful flights, even though the camera flew upside down, shook wildly and the audio was full of wind noises, they were pleased with their efforts. Forest had only memories of chasing the kite as it lost energy and came floating to the ground.

“Yea, I do remember that. It was about right here that we had that one pretty scary pavement crash remember?” said Philip as he pointed to a spot on the pathway where the kite and tethered camera had bounced and scraped down the path with two wild children in hot pursuit.

The three continued on down the path past the crazy collection of spinning propellers called Whirligig and strange, massive sculpture of a figure reclining that always got Philip’s children giggling about the large concrete tushy on display right here in the opening half mile of the art park. From there the three continued on toward the parks crown jewel. One of the first pieces commissioned by the art museum for this art park and in the mind of the Kings the best example of filling a natural space with a beautiful piece of art.

Chapter Four

Gyre

The three gigantic rings of Gyre rose out of the ground like colossal onion rings. They were really made out of steel rods and concrete that had been actually formed in the ground and then turned upright after the concrete had settled in the red clay earth for many weeks. To

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the Kings they always seemed to resemble gigantic onion rings, but they loved this piece of art, for them it held some sort of magic.

The three walked down the path, closer and closer to the rings of Gyre. The path actually snaked through the middle ring, but nothing stopped you from heading off the trail and into the grass to get a better look at the other two rings. It was near the furthest ring that Forest announced his intentions to have a race.

“Let’s see who can run through these big rings the fastest,” challenged Forest.

“You think you can beat me little boy?” shot back Gwen.

“Whoa, a challenge has certainly been issued. The gauntlet has fallen, the gloves…”

“Dad, knock it off. Let’s just race, not lecture,” complained Gwen with Forest nodding his agreement.

“Alright here is the challenge. We wait until all these moms with strollers and bikers clear out and we see who can run the fasted from here at this ring through the others. Winner gets a book at Quail Ridge, loser pays for said book. Deal? Oh, and by the way, I have my eye on a very thick, and expensive hardback,” said Philip as a wry smile curled around his lower face.

“It sounds good to me. I also have my eye on a very large, very expensive book,” said Forest.

“OK so all three of us are running?” asked Gwen.

“Yes, all three. First one to the last ring is the winner and gets a book bought by dad, because he is old and he is going to lose!” shot back Forest.

“Oh I’m going to lose am I” replied Philip. “We will just have to see about that.”

“Wait for this set of mommies to get out of the way and then we are off, are you two ready?” asked Philip.

“Yes,” responded the kids together as they both leaned in and prepared for the short sprint through the rings.

The set of moms pushing large and complicated strollers lumbered through the middle ring and the three Kings took their marks, shaking out their arms and legs and limbering up for their now serious run. The sun retreated behind a puffy cloud, almost like it didn’t wish to witness this family challenge.

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“OK, here we go… On your mark…Get set…..Go!” Yelled Philip and the family were off. Gwen and Forest shot off like lighting, Philip got off to a slower start be it age or parental restraint that held him back we may never know.

The now sun hidden sky cast a strange dark around the scene. The park, normally alive with calls from birds and screams from children now seemed still and empty. The Kings did not notice this change in atmosphere as they sped off on their friendly race.

Gwen and Forest shot off together and they managed to keep that pace through the second ring, but Forest managed to pull away and willed himself through the final ring well ahead of his older sister. He turned back and caught the eye of his sister, just to give her a little wink and let her know who was the best runner in the house, that look was the last image burned on Gwen’s brain as she watched her little brother pass through the last ring and disappear. Both Gwen and her dad stopped short and stared in confusion at the now empty ring. Where could he have gone? They were in the middle of a grassy field. There was nowhere for him to go, no way he could jump behind a tree or hide. To both Gwen and Philip’s immediate shock and horror, Forest was gone.

“Forest!” Yelled his dad. “Did you see him, where did he go?” Screamed Philip as he caught up with his daughter still yelling his son’s name.

“I don’t know,” replied Gwen. “He looked back at me as he was coming to the last ring and we made eye contact and then poof, nothing. He just disappeared.”

“You don’t just disappear, come on he must be hiding behind the ring or something,” shot back Gwen’s father.

The two Kings then sped off from their stopping point toward the final ring and the last place they had seen young Forest. They both hit the threshold of the third ring at the same exact time and both father and daughter looked at each other the split second their worlds turned upside down. Their ears popped and an extreme pull tugged at their stomachs as the world went completely black. They had the sensation of falling and spinning, but in the complete darkness nothing was registering, nothing made sense. Both Kings finally hit the ground with a jolt like they had jumped from a second story window. They both lay still in the now strange light of the early dawn.

***

The inky black night slowly came into focus as Forest opened his eyes. He had no idea what was going on. He was just moments ago racing his sister through the huge circles of the Gyre art installation, a race he was winning, and now he was deposited here. It was pitch dark,

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his tush hurt from the unceremoniously and indelicate landing he had made and he had no earthly idea where in the world he was.

“Dad?” Yelled Forest to the deep and dark night. “Gwen, are you out there?” “What’s happening?”

His calls echoed through the dark woods sending ground birds to the air, but returning no answer from his father or sister. Forest was alone. At that moment the weight of his present situation started to dawn on the young man. He had run through a circle coming out of the ground, in the full light of day, and now he was well and truly alone in the middle of the night. Sounds of the forest started to magnify in Forest’s ears. The call of a raven caused the boy to jump and his heart to race. Shadows danced across the clearing causing Forest to see ghostly arms reaching out for him.

Forest decided that sitting still and waiting around in spooky circles of trees was not always the best policy so he stood up, brushed down his jeans and sweatshirt and looked around for anything that he might recognize or give him some direction.

He seemed to be in some sort of forest. The huge black trees stretched skyward in all directions. He could see no buildings; the museum of art was gone. The art and walking path had disappeared. Forest seemed to be lost in the woods. With nothing to guide or direct him, Forest just simply started to walk off in a direction that seemed to lead down a small hill and to the young third grader seemed to be the easiest of the ways forward.

The bush and bramble that blocked his way at nearly every turn, proved Forest’s navigation skills to be lacking. After what surely was hours of difficult travel Forest came across a large dirt path that looked to him like it could have doubled as a simple road.

“Well roads lead somewhere,” thought Forest. “I guess I just have to pick a direction.”

Forest looked as far down the road to the right as the now coming dawn would allow. He could make out nothing but the continuing road as it curved and fell out of view. He turned and looked as far as his eyes would travel down the road to the left. Again nothing pulled him in that direction either, the road simply meandered on and away.

Now Forest came from a family of readers and had read enough fantasy and adventure stories to know that when you are faced with a decision like this, it is good look for a sign or a clue, as your choice will very often lead to blessings or trouble. Forest looked around for something, anything that he might use as a sign. All that he saw as boring gray tree trunks and a muddy lane stretching out forever in both directions.

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“Rats,” shrugged Forest. “Nothing here but trees and mud, I guess I will have to leave this up to the fates.” And Forest took out a shiny quarter given to him by his father after he had paid for something in cash, an event that rarely happened in the King household.

“OK,” Forest said to himself. “If it’s heads I head right, if it’s tails I head left.” The quarter rested cautiously on the plane of Forest’s thumb and then shot into the air turning heads over tails as it arched up through the growing light of the morning. As the quarter reached its apex Forest heard something thundering down the lane to his right. The forgotten quarter dropped to the earth and came to rest, tails side up on the muddy track.

“What could that be,” thought Forest. It sounded like a stampede of rushing cattle, or horses. Forest started drifting in the direction of the sounds, not really noticing that he was even moving. His feet just simply started walking.

He saw the clouds of upturned earth before the creatures came into full view. Around a bend flew three charging stallions in full gallop. Forest’s eyes stared harder at the charging beasts as them pushed on ever closer. It seemed to Forest that the horse and rider were one.

“What are these things?” questioned Forest as the first of the three beasts noticed the young boy to the side of the road and pulled up short, yelling for the following two to pull up as well.

What stood before Forest was indeed one creature, not a ride and horse, but and horse and a man, as one. The huge black legs of the first creature glistened with sweat and foam, its tail swished back and forth as the creature shifted its weight back and forth. From the front of the massive horse bulk rose a sturdy, stout man. He wore a smart leather tunic embroidered and embossed with intricate details. Two blood red roses with heavy thorns crossed his chest and at his hip he wore a scabbard which held a gold hilted sword that must have been incredibly valuable, just from the jewels set in in the handle. Over his shoulder stretched a long wooden bow and behind that a soft leather quiver of many arrows. His tousled and windswept hair was the same jet black that made up his horse legs and he wore neatly trimmed black beard.

He held up his hand in a halting motion and the two trailing creatures pulled in close behind the leader. The others were also black stallions with leather vests of similar quality. Their chests lacked the blood red roses, but intricate details did adorn their breasts. They also had tousled jet black hair, but did not wear the beard of their apparent leader. Both creatures carried long spears and short swords hung from their belts.

“What manner of beast is this lieutenant?” questioned one of the rear creatures.

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The lead creature calmly raised his right hand in another hold command. His steel blue eyes bore into Forest’s quivering face. His brow furrowed and his lips curled in a menacing sneer, then suddenly the anger in his face seemed to simply melt away. A clam and serenity washed over the lead creature and warmth emanated from his smile.

“This is no beast, Calvin. This is a great honor. Young master, how lucky that we find you here in this dangerous wood safe and unhurt. Tell me, are you alone or do you travel with others?” said the leader.

“I…, I was with my Dad and sister, but I have lost them,” responded a terrified Forest. He could not decide if he was really seeing and talking to a centaur or if he was very truly having a nervous breakdown. Not an easy self reflection for an eight year old to have. But at that moment a surge of bravery, the kind of blind abandon that most young boys possess, hit Forest hard. “Are you a centaur?” he asked with a firm and commanding tone. “Are you three really half man and half horse?”

“Why young master, that we are, we are centaurs or half man and half horse as you say. I beg your pardon, if I could have a quick moment to speak with my men, then I will return and answer all of your pressing questions.” The leader made a quick motion to his two men and they cantered a short way from Forest, just out of his ear shot he thought frustratedly. After a short private talk the lead centaur trotted over to Forest and bowed a deep curling bow pulling one of his front legs up under his body and rolling his ample human half toward Forest.

“I humbly apologize for our sudden appearance and lack of congeniality young master. Finding the likes of you here in this place was a shock to all of our systems. Please let me introduce myself. I am Banestre, Order of the Crossed Roses, first lieutenant and lead ranger for his Lord Regent Laurent. These are my deputies Calvin and Andrew.” The two deputies bowed a shy bow as their names were announced.” Please do not be alarmed by the presence of their weapons. We were on a routine patrol and did not expect to find the likes of a young master like yourself in the woods this morning.”

“I am lost and do not know how to find my family, could you help me?” asked an innocent Forest to the three creatures.

“My boy, I am here on this Earth to serve the likes of you,” responded Banestre.

“Why don’t we take you into the capital and present you to the lord regent. I am sure he would want nothing more than to have an audience with the young master. It is an average distance back into the capital and to the lord regent’s palace. It would be quicker if you would agree to ride rather than walk?” questioned Banestre. “Would you agree to let Andrew be your mount for the journey into the capital?”

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“Really?” responded Forest. He had been on a few horses in his life. An old broken down rescue horse at a fire safety day and his great aunt had given him a ride on her horse when the family had visited them in Montana last summer. But this, to ride on the back of a centaur, which was something his geeky sister Gwen, would be jealous of until the day she died. “OK,” responded Forest and no sooner that the words escaped his lips the centaur called Andrew was charging toward him, reaching out and pulling Forest up and onto his back in one smooth and graceful motion.

The centaur Andrew turned and galloped down the road back toward the direction the three had originally charged. Banestre leaned in close to Calvin and spoke in a hushed voice. “This boy is the key to our permanent domination of Anilorac. You keep your mouth shut and make sure that moron Andrew follows suit and let Larent play this out. Rich will be your reward, I promise.” With that Banestre charged down the lane in full gallop followed closely by his chief deputy.

As the mud from the charging hooves settled back down on the muddy lane the sun caught the side of a small disk of silver laying in the muck.

***

“Uhhh, dad are you OK?” moaned Gwen rubbing the stiffness out of her neck and stretching her sore back.

“I think so honey, how about you? Are you hurt any?” asked Philip as he slowly stood and looked around at a grey wood just starting to come alive with the early dawn.

“What in the heck happened to us?” asked Gwen. She to had stood and assessed her strange new surroundings. “This is not normal dad. We were just running through the rings of Gyre on a bright and sunny day and now we are in this weird forest and it is like early morning. Way earlier than we should be out and about.”

“I don’t know sweetie, this is freaking me out just as much as it is you. Don’t you think Forest should be around her somewhere? I say we start looking, he can’t be far.”

“Yea, OK…Forest!” Yelled Gwen to the silent trees.

“Whoa, calm down Gwen, let’s not wake the wide world and draw unnecessary attention to ourselves,” chided Philip as he pulled his daughter in close. He didn’t know what was happening, but he sure knew he was not interested it bringing some wild or wooly creature out of those woods charging at him or his tween daughter.

“OK, OK relax dad, I’ll be cool,” replied Gwen.

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The two kings looked around and saw nothing that resembled a road or trail or even a path. The forest spread out in all directions hiding its secrets from the kings.

“I’m not sure which way we go dad?” said Gwen.

“You know I’m not sure there is a right way here. The sun looks to be coming up over that way.” And Philip pointed toward the trees to their right. “I say we head that way.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” shot back Gwen and the two Kings started off down a little rise toward the rising sun.

Chapter Five

Shy Isabel

Gwen’s weary body stumbled over a fallen log. “How many millions of fallen logs do I have to crawl over in this stupid forest?”

“I know we have been trudging over hill and dale for a long time know, how long you think we have been walking?” asked the elder King as he glanced down at his wrist watch to check the time. The cheap Timex on his wrist had stopped, he wondered if the watch had died from old age, or from the strange trip he and his daughter had just warped through. “Let’s sit here for a minute and catch our breath, we could be miles from anywhere or just walking around in circles.”

The fear and worry started slowly crept into the back of Philip King’s mind. He was a teacher, not an adventurer. He and his family did the occasional spot of camping and they loved to travel to new and interesting places, but his wife always had the best hotel that Trip Advisor ratings and her cunning Expedia knowledge could book. This trekking across wild woods with a scared and exhausted daughter… and lost son was a lot to handle. The realization of his current plight was now starting to eat away at Philip’s on tired brain.

Gwen sat on her “millionth” log crossing log and stared blankly off into the think grey trees that stretched out endlessly before her. The trees seemed to hold infinite secrets, but nothing that revealed them to her. As she was about to throw her hands up again and whine to her father she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her right eye. It wasn’t much but some kind of shadow or something moved just a few trees away.

“He dad did you just see that?” asked Gwen.

“See what love,” answered her dad. “All I see is millions and millions of these damn grey trees.”

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“Language dad, come on I think something might be out there. You never know it could be Mr. Tumnus right?”

Philip smirked at his bookish daughter. “You would think something like that wouldn’t you?”

Gwen found a reserve of energy as she jumped up from the fallen tree and gingerly moved toward where she had seen the flicker of movement. As she came close to the tree she thought had been where she had seen the ghost, the same shimmer caught her eye, this time six or seven trees further on into the woods.

“Did you see it that time dad?”

“Yea I think I did, do you think it’s just an animal or something,” asked Philip.

“I don’t really care if it is just a squirrel, at least he are heading somewhere,” said Gwen.

The two Kings worked their way through the forest following the shadow for another thirty minutes until they broke out of the woods and found themselves standing along a well worn and slightly muddy road stretching out as far as the eye could see in either direction. The two travelers both stood with their hands on their knees, not accustom to heavy orienteering in thick woods. The sun was now well above the tree line and shown its warmth and light down on the two tired Kings. At that moment Philip caught a glint or sharp reflection from the mud near his feet. He looked over with interest as his eyes focused on an American quarter dollar lying in the mud just feet from where he stood.

“Gwen, look at this,” called an excited father as he picked up the small coin and looked it over front and back. ”Look at this, didn’t Forest carry a quarter like this? It was a newer American quarter and the back of the quarter held the stamping of Forest’s birth state, North Carolina. The Wright Brothers and their kite like Kitty Hawk flier seemed to give Philip King and new sense of hope. “This has to be his Gwen. It’s too random of a coincidence not to be his. He has to be nearby,” said the excited father and he started to look around with a revitalized eyes.

Forest did not reveal himself to his father, but the forest did. The shy shadow that Gwen and Philip had been following before the road motioned from the trees on the other side of the road. It looked to Philip like the shadow was almost waving him on, willing him to cross the road and continue into the woods. He stood at the side of that muddy road wondering what he should do. Down the road in either direction would more than likely be some short of town or dwelling that could help him and his daughter get some answers and help them find

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Forest, but what was urging him back into those woods. Like so many times before in Philip’s life his daughter made the decision for him.

“Dad come on, the shadow is there,” pointed Gwen to the same spot in the trees that Philip had just been staring.

“Fair enough,” thought Philip. Something was guiding them and they had followed this far, why not soldier on. “OK let’s go sweetie, but be careful as we get back in these trees, I don’t want any sprained ankles or broken bones.”

Philip and Gwen trudged through the thick woods for another hour, strength and hope leeched from them with every heavy step, but the shadowy guide never slowed. The trees seemed to thin some and the two found themselves coming to a small slope running down to a small stone cottage set peacefully in a happy glen, near a small stream. A thin sting of smoke rose from a fat chimney on the far side of the small house. The cottage was almost to cliché for the Kings to believe what they were seeing. It appeared to be empty and neither King could see any signs of life.

“Hello,” came a voice just above a whisper from behind Philip and Gwendolyn that made both of them jump out of their skins. The startle they got from the quiet voice that had snuck up behind them was nothing with they both turned to find a small creature peaking around a tree at them. It was a young girl, maybe similar in age to Gwen, but much smaller. In fact she looked to be only about three and half or four feet tall. The young girl had beautiful auburn hair, pulled back in a think braid and tied with a smart leather thong. She wore a green-grey tunic that blended perfectly with the surrounding trees. But her lower half was hidden behind the tree.

“Hel.. Hello,” replied the Kings in a shaky unison. “Who are you?”

The small girl looked Philip King in the eyes and then locked her brown eyes with his daughter. She slowly came around the tree revealing her lower half and the four deer legs that had been hidden behind the tree. Little white marks peppered her back flanks.

“I am called shy Isabel,” said the little faun. “You two are in great danger, you need to see my father. This is my house; you should be safe here until he returns.”

“Danger, what danger,” asked Philip in a shocked voice.

“Dad, she’s a faun, but look she has four legs, not the two legs most fauns have in my books. This is so cool… she’s a faun,” smiled a giddy Gwen.

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“Hurry please; I think we should get into the house before we talk anymore. We are deep in the Umstead Woods, but Lord Regent Laurent seems to have eyes and ears everywhere.

Shy Isabel lead the two down the short slope and into her small home. They had to duck down as they entered through a boldly painted low red front door. The main room of the cottage was strait from a picture book. A small table stood off center to the left of the doorway. Both Gwen and Philip noticed that the cottage was without chairs. No chairs stood under the table and only fat cushions sat on the floor in front of the warm hearth. Two closed doors lead off from the main room, most likely to bedrooms. It was the warmest and coziest place Gwen thought she had ever been. Her attention had fallen on a window bench tucked up in a tight bay window. The bench was adorned with numerous over stuffed pillows, cozy wool blankets and built in bookshelves. It was a Gwendolyn King heaven.

A kettle whistle pulled Gwen away from her ogling the reading nook. Shy Isabel beckoned the two Kings to join her near the fire. “Please come and sit near the fire, I can offer you tea and something to eat if you wish.”

Both Gwen and Philip then realized that they had not eaten in many hours and their empty stomach rumbles gave shy Isabel her answer. In just a few short moments she had conjured a plate full of small cakes and cheeses, along with two steaming cups of fragrant tea and thick milk. Philip thanked his small host and dove into the cheese selection with a ravenous fervor. The sharp cheddars and creamy goat cheeses tickled is taste buds. Gwen explored the pretty little cakes and found a small square pink choice hid a wonderfully light lemon wafer. The hot tea warmed their sore muscles and they both sank into the fat floor cushions with an air of peace and satisfaction.

“This is wonderful and thank you so much for your aide and help,” said Philip as he drained the last dribbles of his sweet-smelling tea. “But we have lost my son. He is just eight years old and I shudder to think what may have happened to him here in this place. I know he is here as we found this coin just before we started following you at the road. Is there a town or a police force we can contact to help us find Forest?”

“It is best that you stay here until my father comes home this evening. The world out there is dangerous for you and many would love the chance to meet you with the end of their swords,” answered shy Isabel. “I will tell you that I saw your son on the road early this morning and watched as he went off with Lord Regent Laurent’s chief lieutenant Simon and his men. I saw him throw that coin you hold now. When I saw you a few hours later, I knew I had to lead you to that coin and then on to our home. You three are all in great danger here. I cannot answer all the questions you have, but father will be able to help you, I’m sure.

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This news deflated Philip and he quietly wondered what he was to do now. He was sitting in an overstuffed pillow next to a lovely fire in the quaint home of a four-legged faun and his shy daughter. His son was with the chief lieutenant of some Lord Regent and now he was to just sit back and wait for this faun’s father to amble home.

“I’m sorry Isabel, you have done so much for us, but I cannot stay here and wait while someone has my son. I have to go on and look for him. If you could just point us in the direction of this Lord Regent and chief lieutenant we would be on our way.”

“I’m sorry but you really need to speak with father. He will be here shortly and you are in no condition to travel right at this moment.”

Philip wondered what she meant by that last statement as he looked over and saw his daughter Gwen full asleep in the window bench, softly snoring away.

“Gwen wake up, Gwen come on we have to go. We have to find your brother, Gwen!” shouted Philip.

“I’m sorry but you have to stay here and talk with my father, I have taken steps for that to happen even if you wanted to leave you could not.”

With that Philip started to notice a strange feeling moving from his head down his spine and out his limbs. The room started to spin and his eyes lost their focus.

“What have you done to us?” challenged Philip as he keeled over on the overstuffed cushion, slipping into a deep sleep.

“I have done no real damage; I only needed you both to stay here in a time when I knew you would choose to run. A simple sleeping draught in your tea will ensure that you are both still here when father returns. Now rest all will be revealed soon.”

***

Philip’s eyes shot open and his head snapped up from the lazy hanging position he had found it in. “Where am I? What’s going on? Where’s Gwen, Forest?” Philip’s eyes still didn’t focus quite right and all he could really make out where three grayish blobs in front of him. One of the blobs leaned in and brought a candle up to Philip’s face. The closer it came to more it came into focus and as it did Philip lurched back.

“Yes, he’s fine. The sleeping draught does cause some issues with the eyes as it is wearing off. His eyesight will return in moments,” said a friendly voice with a certain air of devil-may-care cheek hidden within.

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“Hey dad, can you hear alright?” came the question from Gwen. “Can you see me?”

“I can hear you fine, I just feel like I’ve have my eyes super dilated at the eye doctor. All I can see is big fuzzy blobs.”

“It’s OK dad, it wears right off and you will see just fine. I woke up a little while ago and I can see fine now. Shy Isabel and Johann and I have been talking.”

“Johann? Who is this Johann?” questioned Philip and he thought his eyesight was starting to clear a bit.

“Johann is Shy Isabel’s father. The one she wanted us to meet and talk to before we went running off to the capitol and got ourselves captured and killed.”

“Captured and killed? What is going on here? Johann your daughter desperately wanted us to talk to you, but my son is out there somewhere with a chief lieutenant and I need to find him. Can you point us to this capitol, I have to find my son,” urged Philip King with real and true stress in his voice.

“I can do all of that and more, but first you need to hear me out and let us help you get your son back. You and your daughter just walking into the capitol and demanding Forest is returned would be a suicide mission for all three of you. While you and Gwen remain hidden and safe, Forest will remain alive.”

Philip’s eyes finally came into full focus and there before him sat his twelve year old daughter, a small four-legged faun and the older, slightly grizzled face of Johann. He was also a four-legged faun, but somewhat bigger than his daughter. He stood around five feet tall and his human half and deer parts were in perfect proportion. His hair and beard were the light browns and reds of his lower coat. He wore a similar grey- green tunic to his daughter, but wore a short dagger on his belt. The tunic was embroidered with stitching that looked to Philip’s shaky eyes to be of books and feather pens. Along the back flanks Philip did notice what looked like both old and new scares, maybe the work of a whip of flail. His hands seemed to be spotted with black ink stains, particularly the first two fingers and thumb on his right hand.

“I think we need to hear this guy out dad. I’ve been talking with him and Shy Isabel for awhile now and I think we need to trust what they are saying. They both told me this land is under the reign of the wicked Lord Regent Laurent. He has banished and imprisoned the true kings and is preparing to name himself emperor.”

“Gwen really, how do you know we can trust these two. I mean she did drug us. Maybe this is all a trick,” pushed Philip and he looked at his daughter for guidance.

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“No dad, really let’s hear the whole story and how Johann and Shy Isabel can help us. Think dad, they aren’t taking us to the Lord Regent, they are warning us against him.”

“OK, you’re right, they have helped us some and apart from the drugging all has gone well. OK Johann I am ready to hear your tale, but let’s not make it a long one. We need to get to Forest.”

“I hear and understand your urgency. If I knew that Shy Isabel was being held against her will I would also be willing to move heaven and earth to rescue her. I caution you and pled for you to not rush into danger’s open maw. What I can tell you and what the mages can confirm is that you and your daughter and your son play a pivotal role in the future of the land of Anilorac.

Chapter Six

Johann’s Tale

Philip collapsed onto one of the overstuffed pillows accepting defeat. He looked up at Johann and without a word gave him full permission to proceed with his story. Johann poured a cup of tea and settled down on another overstuffed pillow near the warm fire. Gwen and Shy Isabel gathered pillows and joined to floor gathering near the fire. Johan cleared his throat and began.

“For this story to work properly I shall need to be long winded. You must hear the story from beginning to end to grasp the full brevity of your situation. I must take you back to my younger years to set the scene,” began the elder faun.

“When I was a young faun I knew early that I was bright. My parents were of the laborer class, but also saw the great potential in their son. They might not have understood my gift, but they understood that I had a gift and it needed to grow. They looked and looked for ways to get me into schools and into learning situations that they had not been afforded. Finally my father happened across a mage while he was doing some carpentry work in the central library one day. The kind mage must have seen something in my father’s eyes, desperation maybe, but he granted my father and mother an audience with the mages with regards to my future.”

“I was given little time for preparation before I was given my audience in front of the mage council. To you this must mean nothing, but to use the mage council is the keeper of knowledge, history and power in the land of Anilorac. They hold all of our secrets and council

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all of the leaders and rulers of the land. I had to prove that I was worthy of their time and energy.”

“I can tell you simply that I was scared right down to the ends on my clove feet. My father and mother left me at the door, not wanting to venture into the sacred residence of the mage council. I was well and truly on my own.”

“In I went and stood, four short legs trembling at the sight of a huge semi circular ring of exquisite pillows each with a different creature inhabiting it. I saw horse centaurs, deer fauns like myself, I saw huge bull centaurs and at the end I saw a small goat centaur with a grey coat and scraggly get beard. I locked eyes with that smallest of the mages and he gave me a wink. Can you believe it? That mage winked at me.”

“Father, could you return to the relevant track of this tale please,” chided Shy Isabel in and firm and somewhat disgusted tone.

“Right, so sorry. But please remember that I said this was to be a long tale and the wink does have some relevance later in the story. But anyway, I was there for my audience with the mages and I was already shaken by this strange goat winking at me. “

“The lead mage, a wizened old horse, who would become a close ally and personal friend in time, asked me to step forward and present my case to the council. I slowly and steadily stepped forward explain my plight and ask the council to grant me some destination. After a sound back and forth between both the council and myself and the council members each to another, they asked for a recess and I was ushered out of the chamber to an antechamber room to wait my decision. The call came within just a few minutes, I was to join the council in their mountain retreat and study under the tutelage of the council themselves. This was highly unusual and most gratifying. I would be learning from the greatest minds in all of Anilorac, but that would mean leaving my parents behind. It was a sad decision but one I was able to make with some ease. Even if I had asked to stay, both of my parents would have forced me out with blows and kicks if the need arose. So I was on my way West two days later heading to the council retreat in hills of Montreat.”

“I spent years in those hills. At first just doing odd jobs and running simple notes and messages. Later I acted as a scribe for council meetings and was even asked my opinion from time to time. Finally I was asked to become a shadow council member, meaning I would be an understudy for a sitting member, even travelling out into the land to decide dispute and council leaders in the place of full members. Shadow members are pulled for full membership when the full member passes on into the next life. It was there in my role as a shadow councilor that our world turned on its ear.”

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“Our world had always been ruled by three kings who worked together in a partnership to rule Anilorac is a just a peaceful way. One family, the Gordons, ruled the west while the Teach family governed the east. Both the Gordon clan and the Teach assembly swore allegiance to the high king of the house Hayes-Barton. The triumbervant worked well for many generations until the reign of Ewan Gordon, Shamus Teach and High King Derek came to sit on their respected thrones. They continued the good graces, but deception was growing in the land of Anilorac. Deep in swamps and darker places where civilized hooves tend not to trod the reptiles and insects were quietly making a pact and forming plans, big plans.”

“A snake named Laurent used his charm and charisma to gain control of this reptile and insect alliance. He pulled the insects from the caves and dark places, and promised them full rights and a place in the sun. He looked to his snake bothers for support and loyalty, and he got it. Then when he felt he was at a place where his power could challenge the right of the three kings he made his move. His armies moved swiftly over the land, each of the three kings were imprisoned in cruel cells in their own jails. Centaurs and fauns loyal to the crowns had tough choices to make, fight, exile or supplication. Many died in the fight, many more were run off, but most accepted the new reality and got on with their life under the rule of the reptiles.”

“Laurent installed himself as what he called the Lord Regent, though his mind is set on emperor. He propped up a wicked scorpion named Kaan as the ruler of the east and sadistic highland cow called Ramhar as the chief in the west. He was even able to convert a few high ranking centaurs to his cause. The men your young son met this morning may have been Simon and his band. Simon was a close ally to High King Derek, but after the coup Derek switched sides faster than a crack of lightning. He retained his position as chief lieutenant and head ranger under the new rule of the Lord Regent. He both makes my blood boil and heart break whenever I see the traitorous leech.”

“As the power shift finally set in the council of mages was summoned to the capitol, they assumed they would be asked to guide the new leadership in some way. We were wrong. Laurent called the head mages in and without much fanfare disbanded the council. Each member of the council was given three choices, swear complete loyalty to the Lord Regent, leave in disgrace and live in individual exile, none could live or meet together or fight and either languish in a prison cell or die at the hand of Laurent’s goons. Most of the council chose to the exile, secretly pining that they would be able to meet in surreptitiously and find a way to help knock Laurent out of power. Our head mage, Melchior, tried to raise a challenge to the disbanding and for all of his logic and quiet rage, he found himself jailed not far from our High King Derek.”

“Council mages rushed quickly from the audience chamber and hurried themselves in the task of finding unassuming lodgings for their exile. In the commotion I was noticed by

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Laurent. I was called before the great snake. His lower torso was sleek and black. It glowed in the dim torch light of the chamber. His upper trunk was clothed in a deep black tunic of tooled leather. The sleeves came to sharp points at his wrists and the cowl wrapped his neck and rose to another razor-sharp point behind his head. His black hair was trimmed short and his eyes shown with an eerie yellow tint.”

“I’m not ashamed to admit that being in his presence at that time scared me to no end. I stepped forward on four shaky legs, not knowing what this great snake would want of me. I was not convinced that I was on his midday meal menu. He looked me up and down and called in a booming voice, “Faun, what is your roll with this band of quasi-intellectuals?” I responded that I was merely a shadow council member and was still in training, without any real power. He pondered my response and then in a much silkier and snakelike voice he said to me, “You will act as m personal scribe. You will perform writing and recording duties for me, as well as act councilor when I deem it necessary. “But sir,” I pleaded in return. “I have a child who required much of me as her mother has passed into the world beyond. Can I give you what you require and make good for my young one? “Your young one will be an added bonus,” answered the snake. “She will come with you and work for me as a chamber girl. Her duties will be mainly menial, but from time to time she might find her way into more important duties. With that Laurent licked his lips and his mouth curled into a wicked smile showing his horrible sharp teeth.”

“His words send shivers down my spine even now, three years later. I found myself in the position of no choice. I have to work with the Lord Regent and stay in his good graces, or my daughter was to end up a midday meal.”

“But before I stepped away to take up my post as chief scribe to the Lord Regent that wily old goat of a mage charged in and stared the Lord Regent dead in the eyes and called out in his high pitched voice…

”You mark the words of the mages all,

when three kings walk on two legs are seen,

the snakes and those who crawl will have to fall,” With that he turned and shot out the side doors and I have not seen the goat since.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” commanded Philip. “I humored you in that incredibly long story, but I need to know where this is going and what it has to do with me and my children? Are you saying this snake guy has Forest and might eat him? How am I going to get to the capital? You work there, you could get me in. Do you know where they are holding Forest? Let’s get moving.”

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“Hold friend, too many questions to answer at once. But let me put your mind at ease. Laurent will not eat your son, at least not yet. He will simply use your son as bait for the two of you. I’m not sure he knows you are here, but I’m sure that he will use your son to try and drawn the two of you to him.”

“Why, what do we have to do all of this,” asked a perplexed Gwen.

“Well young Gwendolyn, is it not obvious. You are three kings and you all walk on two feet. As strange as we must look to you, your legs have never been seen in the land of Anilorac. When Simon saw Forest this morning, he knew the prophecy well and knew that he needed to get Forest to Laurent quickly. I’m sure the ranger is out there now looking for two more bipeds; he’s out there looking for you. And hear this; he is the best tracker in the land. He always gets his man. You two are in immense danger, and it is only with the aide I can offer that your family and this land have a fighting chance.”

Gwen and Philip looked at each other in shock and dismay. They were simple people, not prophesy makers. This was the stuff of Professor Trelawney and Harry Potter not them.

“But how can this be? We are nobody’s, I am teacher, Gwen and Forest are just kids. How can we be the three kings of your prophesy? They have to mean true kings, like those three kings you said were imprisoned. This can’t be about us,” said Philip.

“No friend, you are the kings of our prophesy, I know it. Remember the key line, they walk on two feet. None of the kings currently in prison are bipeds. None of the kings in their lineage were bipeds. Remember we have never seen the likes of you and your children. You are the three kings and you will bring about a fall in Lord Regent Laurent’s reign of terror.”

“How, how can I bring down a dictator? I’m just one man, with a daughter and captured son. How do I help you?” whispered Philip.

“You will be able to do more than you think, sir. What has to happen now is that you and your daughter must get far away from here and the capitol. You must travel west to Black Mountain and find the mage known as Seegar. I have heard rumblings that he is begin to gather support for a rebellion against the Lord Regent. I knew him when the council was in operation and know that he can help you.”

“Where is Black Mountain? We have a Black Mountain in North Carolina, but is it way out west near Asheville,” said Philip.

“Black Mountain is west of here and will take you nearly four or more days to reach on foot. It is near the town of Asheville, I find it interesting that your land and our land share settlement names. Yes you will need to travel to Black Mountain and find Seegar, but I cannot

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take you myself. I will be missed at the court and Laurent will use my absence to draw you out. You will need to travel without me, as I listen in on Laurent’s plans and operation.”

“So how will we get to Black Mountain,” said Gwen. “I don’t know how to travel west safely, do you dad?”

“Stop it Gwen, I’m not going west when Forest is right here. We need to find a way to rescue him.”

“No dad, listen, we have to do it the way Johann is telling us. I know it. Come on dad, we have to go west. This is an adventure moment dad. Running to the capitol blindly is suicide for us and a death sentence for Forest. I believe Johann and his story. We have to go and find this Seegar and use his council to rescue Forest.”

“Gwen,” pleaded a father in misery. “Gwen… and adventure in a time like this? Are you sure? It will be hard and dangerous and anyway who is going to guide us? Johann said he couldn’t.”

“I will lead you west,” pushed in Shy Isabel.

The room went silent.

Chapter Seven

West

“You will do no such thing young lady. I need you here, your absence will be felt in the capitol. You are not going west, it is much too dangerous,” barked a clearly flustered Johann.

“Father please, you ask these two to give up their hopes for a rescue of their loved one to go off on some perilous journey, saying it is the only way to save Forest and free the oppressed of Anilorac, but when I say I am going with them, you balk and fuss. For shame.”

“I will not be missed right away. I am just a scullery maid and throne room runner. Others do my job as well. You can say I have taken ill and should be well enough in a few days to a week. That gives us time to get to Black Mountain and back right?”

“Not likely. The road west to Black Mountain would take you four days in good conditions. Now you will need to travel incognito, as all of Simon’s rangers will be out on the hunt and anyone who sees a biped will be sorely tempted to turn you in to the local authorities.”

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“But you cannot expect the two of them to travel alone? They wouldn’t make it one day out there alone before they were spotted and tossed in a cell right next to Forest to await their untimely demise. I don’t see any other way here father, I have to be their guide.”

As Shy Isabel’s voice trailed off into the fire, the crackling logs caught the attention of all assembled. The four stared into the fire together not knowing what was to come of each of them. This journey was now very real for all parties involved. It was a damn fool errand, but one that had to be started, and like his all too wise daughter had pointed out, Johann knew it had to be the three, Philip, Gwen and Shy Isabel who travelled together.

***

The plans for the journey west began immediately. Johann rushed about his small abode gathering little supplies and muttering to himself. The difficulty in this endeavor would be to travel without being seen by unfriendly locals. The three would most likely have to travel some at night and never by the road. It would mean slow going as they traversed more forest paths and not the well travelled central road. They would need food and bedding, tinder tools and some sort of protection.

Johann stopped in mid mutter looked up and moved to a beautiful carved trunk, tucked away in corner opposite the fire. It had intricate vines and dogwood flowers tooled into the lid and sidewalls. Frequently amongst the design different precious stones were inlay. The trunk was held shut with a large and ornate lock, with Johann quickly unlocked with a key he held on a leather cord around his neck.

In the trunk Johann removed a hefty shield with sword tucked up behind it. The shield was a typical shape with a straight edge across the top and the bottom coming to a point nearly three feet down. It was divided into four quadrants with bands of bronze with three of the sections claret in color and the upper right hand corner showing a bright sky blue. A dull bronze boss sat square in the middle.

Johann pulled a magnificent tooled scabbard from behind the shield. Rest on the top of the fine leather work was a hilt of fine gold topped with ruby. His hand found the hilt, grasped the metal and pulled the sword from its home. A slow slink sounded as the blade was liberated from its confinement. The blade shown a dark grey with black design worked from the hilt to the midpoint of the weapon. It was the most intricate and beautiful blade Philip had ever seen.

Johann held the blade up turning it slowly in the flickering light of the fire. A smile danced across his face and he slowly returned the weapon to the sheath. Placing the sword down against the wall Johann reached back into the trunk and pulled out a long dagger in match sheath. The sheath of the dagger was a mirror copy of the sword sheath, just in

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miniature. The dagger handle was also a perfect match, just smaller. Johann again grasped the hilt of this smaller blade and pulled quickly in one forceful motion. The dagger released from the sheath revealing a wicked dirk so sharp it felt like it could cut you just with its mere presence.

“These three weapons,” Johann started with a slow and deliberate tone. “They were the arms of our High King Derek. After he was imprisoned and his house fell into chaos, I ferreted them away, thinking one day they may be useful. You must take them with you on your journey. They will help you in two ways. First they are weapons and I hope and pray to our gods that you will never have the need to unsheathe either of those blades, but if the need arises you with have the tools to defend yourselves. Second the shield holds the colors and crest of the High King. That shield might be a pass for you in some communities and unveil friends as it is revealed to them.

You Philip will carry High King Derek’s sword Wormbitr. It is nearly as well known as the colors on that shield. Use it well and may it protect you and your charges. Gwen you will carry Derek’s shield. It is a defensive weapon, but will protect you in times of assault. Do not forget young Gwendolyn that attacks can go both ways…that boss is formidable weapon and a pity the creature who finds themselves on the brained end of one of those blows. My love Shy Isabel, you are my only family now and I love you more than life itself. I entrust this dirk to you also hopping that you never feel the need to employ it. This dagger is known as the Dragon’s Tooth and can count nearly as many kills as its larger cousin in Philip’s hands.

“With these tools and this bag of supplies you should find yourself ready,” said Johann as he handed Philip a large backpack which held dried foods and nuts, along with tinder, assorted tools and two bedrolls, Shy Isabel would find no trouble in sleeping out in the tall grasses.

“Are we ready for this? You sure this is all we need?” asked Philip with an uncertainty in his voice.

“There is nothing more you need. You must travel light to keep up your speed. This is a journey of stealth, not convenience. You may be uncomfortable at times, but keep the prize in mind. Now follow this map.” Johann pulled a worn cloth map from the trunk and pointed out their location and the location of Black Mountain. “On this map you will find certain game trails and paths used by folks who might otherwise no wish to be seen. Go now and may the gods shine their light and wisdom down on you all.”

Johann trotted over to Shy Isabel and took her in his arms for a real embrace. After a long and tender hold, he pulled her back and looked deeply into her eyes. With his own eyes filling with tears he said, “Shy Isabel, you honor me today with your courage, intelligence and

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true bravery. I know you are the perfect guide for this challenge and I want you to know that your mother is watching you know with as much pride in her heart as I have in mine. Go know child and lead these good people to their destiny. I will see you soon my angel.” With that he pushed her away, turned and trotted to the back of the house and his bed chamber. He looked back one time and then entered the room and closed the door. The three companions left in the room looked at each other in shock and bewilderment.

“Well I guess we best be on our way,” called Gwen with a shrug and a readjustment of the heavy armored shield.

Chapter Eight

The Brothers Dim

The abruptness of Johann’s farewell left the travelers confused as they exited the cozy cottage and started toward a well know path to Shy Isabel. The tow Kings thought independently to themselves that this “path” was really just a break in the trees and not really a reliable way to travel at all, but Shy Isabel broke through the initial brush and off they went into the woods.

The thick pillars of trees seemed to close in around them as they trudged on along what was surely a game path and not ever intended to human feet. The two Kings had to duck and push branched out of their way at an annoyingly constant rate. Shy Isabel seemed to glide gracefully through the woods at Philip and Gwen lumbered on arguing about who had let the branch swing back and hit the other in face the most times.

“You say this is going to take us upward of four days to get to Black Mountain,” asked Philip as he ducked under another swinging pine branch let go by his inattentive daughter just moments before. “Gwen.”

“Father says it will take near that long. I’m not sure, we could make better time when we reach the river and can spend some time walking the banks, rather than the thick woods,” replied Shy Isabel.

“I just don’t know how we can be making any progress at this rate. It seems to be taking us forever and all I see is more and more damn trees.”

“Language dad!” scolded Gwen release another branch violently swinging toward her frustrated father.

“Sorry,” huffed Philip.

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The three travelers headed on in silence for the next twenty minutes content to focus on their own thoughts and the unevenness of the surface. The afternoon was rapidly falling away and the shadows cast by tree and travelers were growing ever longer. They had good hours before sundown, but the day was getting away from them and soon they would need to find a place to settle in for the night.

“Do you have a plan for stopping Shy Isabel?” asked Gwen releasing another branch toward her father’s sweat drenched head.

“Gwen!”

“I would love to make it to the river tonight. I know of a little over hang in a bluff that would offer us some cover from the elements this night. The river is not far now, I think we can make it before nightfall and maybe even get a fire set to help warm and comfort us over night.”

“That would be great, I’m exhausted,” said Gwen letting yet another branch fly toward her now visibly frustrated father.

“GWEN! Enough already, I’m going before you from now on!” ranted Philip showing a light pink mark across the bridge of his nose and a few leaves in his hair, all reminders that he had followed his daughter through the thickest portion of the woods.

“Alright dad relax, you can go first, geeze.”

The trio pressed on through the wood and Philip and Gwen eventually noticed a thinning of the trees and a change in forest species. The trees that had been all tall broadleaf mixed with scatterings of pine where giving way to cottonwood and river trees. The air had changed as well; it was now more humid, dank and earthy smelling. They were close to a major water source. Philip and Gwen noticed a rushing sound that they thought may have been in their ears for awhile, but only now did they recognize the sound and place it as the rushing of a great river.

Shy Isabel looked back at the Kings and smiled, “We are here.” She said trying to hide the general excitement on her face and failing miserably in the process. The overhang is just down the river a few hundred yards. “I know this place well, my mother and I used to run down to the river and spend the day wading at the river’s edge and exploring the bluffs.”

A faraway look took Shy Isabel as she scanned the familiar banks and eddies of the river. “Come this way, we will be under cover and comfortable very soon.” Shy Isabel turned and jumped down toward the churning water. “Just around that bend ahead is the bluff and our destination. Come on, nearly there.”

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Philip smiled as he willed his very tired body to follow the sprite little faun who had found a new burst of energy, which was surprising as she seemed to never tire or slow as they traveled. This little faun reminded him of his little girl when she was just a bit smaller. Gwen was becoming a young lady and he was losing his little girl.

A loud crash snapped Philip back from his memory and he looked up to see Shy Isabel frozen in her tracks, ducking down in the long river grasses. Philip immediately crouched and scanned upstream and down, not knowing what he might be for. His heart slowed from his first surge of adrenaline and he looked back for Gwen, who was also crouched behind her shield.

Philip didn’t know if he should draw the blade he now wore at his hip, Shy Isabel kept her dirk sheathed as she scanned for the source of the crash.

As the three stood rooted to their spot another crash and splash sounded followed by a bellowing high pitch yell, “Take that you son of a newt!”

“Son of a newt you say, well what does that make you yellow belly,” responded an equally high-pitched bawl.

“Yellow belly, why I oughtta,” yelled the first voice and the three heard a dramatic smash and short whimper.

Philip and Gwen crept closer to Shy Isabel and ducked down in the tall grasses, trying to see the cause of the scrap. “What in the world is that racket,” whispered Philip to Shy Isabel.

“I think it might be a couple of river creatures having a fight. It could be salamanders.”

“Are salamanders friendly in this world?” asked Gwen with a nervous laugh.

“Generally the rule goes warm blood a friend to me and cold blood let them be. Salamanders are cold blooded and generally have aligned with the snakes in power now in the capitol. Before the takeover most salamanders were recluses weren’t often seen. With the power shift they are now becoming bolder and are coming out into the light. To be honest I have never really been in the presence of a salamander. Father says they really aren’t very bright.”

“Tail licker!”

“Slime sucker!”

“Lizard lips!”

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“Oh, no…you did not call me a lizard? Do I look dry a scaly to you? No! I am moist and squashy, and don’t you forget it runt.”

Another smash and large splash sounded around the river bend.

“Should we turn around or take a wide way around?” asked Gwen. “They sound awfully upset with each other. I would hate for that anger to transfer to us.”

“No we really need to get by here and going all the way around is going to take too much time. We need to get under cover tonight. If we just move with haste and with purpose we should be fine,” said Shy Isabel.

“Should be fine doesn’t sound super confident to me,” said Philip. “Do you think they may be friendly at all?”

“They could be, not all cold blooded swore allegiance to the Lord Regent. It is risky though, most did.”

The trio crept ever closer to the melee happening along the river bank. As they came around the bend the full scene came into focus. The witnessed two creatures the size of large dogs going at each other like hammer and tongs. One would jump on the other, slip and slide off and then the other would repeat the unsuccessful attack plan. Neither Gwen nor Philip, nor for that matter Shy Isabel could decipher what in the world the two were fighting over. They seemed perfectly content to just murder each other for the sake of murder.

An almighty splash shook the travelers out of their wonder and back to the brawl.

“Now you know that worm was mine!” screamed one of the salamanders.

“Yours, yours….well I’ll give you yours, you son of a slug,” hollered the second salamander in return.

The three continued to marvel at the strange sight, but seemed to be able to walk nearer and nearer the fight without being noticed. They all thought that they might just be able to make it past the quarrelling cold bloods and be on their way to the bluffs, but no such luck. Gwen, lost in the entertainment and interest of two have man half salamander creatures beating the ever living daylights out of each other, dropped the heavy shield of the High King Derek with a loud clunk.

The two salamanders immediately stopped the insanity and looked up to spy the three travelers watching from no more than fifty feet. They slowly exited the shallow water they had been fighting in. They were smallish, no bigger than Shy Isabel. Their hair was mostly black, but Gwen did notice a few streaks of bright yellow running from brow and temples back. Their

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skin was a muted grey and they wore old broken down shirts with tired black leather vests stained with who knows what sort of filth. Beneath their waist the three saw the body and legs of a black salamander with similar bright yellow streaks running down their torso from shoulder to shoulder and on down the tail. They looked very similar in the face, save one kept his hair a little shaggier and the other kept his hair trimmed close to his grey head. They looked to be carrying no weapons, but that didn’t completely set the travelers at ease.

“Hallow friends,” said the first salamander moving toward the group without any real sense of fear. “Can we help you?”

“Yea, yea can we do somfing for you all?” said the second salamander, the one with the shaggy hair.

Shy Isabel stepped up and in front of Philip and Gwen hopping to shield them as much as her small body could. “No, no we were just passing through and didn’t want to intrude. If you don’t mind we would like to just simply carry on up stream.”

“You here that Roscoe, they want to pass on upstream,” called the first salamander.

“Yea I heard that Gil, they want to pass upstream without paying the tax,” replied the second salamander.

“Tain’t none who pass Roscoe and Gil without paying the passing tax,” said Gil quickly showing himself as the leader of this strange little pair.

“Yea none shall pass without passing a tax,” said Roscoe who was quickly showing himself to be a bit of a moron.

The two salamanders moseyed up to the trio in a truly comic scene. The two small salamanders looked up at Philip and Gwen and only then realized they were dealing with something entirely different than they might have first imagined.

Shy Isabel once again stepped in front of her charges and asked, “What do you require in tax for the three of us to pass?”

“What kinda food you carrying?” shot out Roscoe and he got a great smack from Gil for his exuberance.

“I’m sorry ‘bout that. What my dim witted brother means to say is that we require full payment of all the food you are currently carrying and those fine weapons you hold there.” And Gil pointed to the sword lashed to Philip’s belt and shield held by Gwen.

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“Kind sirs, we are on a life or death journey that requires us to move with utmost haste and without lengthy delay. We are to travel fast and light. We carry very little food, and can assure you no worms. We ask that you kind souls allow us to pass without tax knowing that our journey is for the betterment of Anilorac.

“For the betterment of Anilorac says she. Well missy Anilorac hasn’t done us any favors, so I don’t see why we can’t ask for a little betterment of ourselves and let Anilorac take cares of herself.”

“We can offer you a share of the food we carry, but the weapons we carry will not leave us, they are important messages for our contacts in the west,” said Shy Isabel.

Roscoe leaned in close to his brother after Shy Isabel’s offer and urgently whispered, “Come on man, I’m starving. We haven’t eaten in like two days. Take the deal and let’s eat.”

Gil out of the corner of his mouth whispered back, “Be cool young brother, we can do this.” Then in a louder tone for all to hear he stated, “Your insolent offer offends my brother and myself. You should be ashamed to have even offered some of you food. We are cold blooded and if you have not noticed, we run this land now. You need to be beggin’ us right now not to kill you dead right her on this spot.”

It must have been the threat of murder that finally made Philip wake up to the situation he was in. He was watching a teenage faun, I mean she still had white spots down her side, negotiating with a couple of smallish salamanders none of which were much bigger than golden retriever. Philip decided that matters were getting out of hand and matters might just need to be taken care of by himself.

“Alright, alright,” said Philip as he dramatically drew the sword of High King Derek. “I have had just about as much as I can take in this present negotiation. You two thugs are going to let us pass and that’s the end to it. We have a very important meeting to get to in the mountains and my son’s life hangs in the balance. So you two worms get out of our way or face the wrath o my blade.”

The wrath of my blade line my Gwen bite her tongue to stop her giggle. Who talked like that outside of cheese fantasy novels? The wrath of my blade, was he serious?

He actually looked serious; Gwen looked over at her father and saw a man not looking like he was going to back down. His jaw was set and his eyes flashed with a determination and anger that actually made Gwen pause. He wouldn’t really end these two misfits would he?

“Dad what are you doing?” challenged Gwen with a hint of alarm in her shaky voice.

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“Gwen you know that bullies only respond to force. It’s time to stand up to these two bullies, they are only three feet tall you realize.” Philip moved closer to the now very shocked pair of salamanders. The sword’s blade flashed in dying light of the late afternoon. “It’s time to let us pass, worms.”

At that moment the two brothers broke into uncontrollable wails.

“We are sorry good knight.”

“We did not mean to harm you or your noble family good sir.”

“You must accept my apologies for my insolent brother’s action.”

“My brother is buffoon, please don’t kill us.”

“Please!”

“Pleeease!”

The begging melted away into unintelligible sobs and wailing as the two salamanders rushed forward to grovel at the feet of Philip and the others.

Philip had never pulled a weapon of any kind on any living creature. He was not a hunter and did not own or approve of guns. The closest thing he had to a weapon in his home was a kitchen knife or dull Leatherman tool. He was not ready for his first formal act of physical aggression to end up with groveling salamanders at his feet. He was a little unsure of what to do from here.

“Shy Isabel, let’s carry on. I don’t think these two will be much problem to us from here on, “Philip addressed the two before him, “Will you?”

“No sir, of course not sir,” wailed Gil. “It’s just that my brother and I have not eaten in two days and the hunger has done strange things to our minds. If the good lord and his kind charges would aide in this endeavor we would be forever in your debt.”

Gwen stepped forward and pulled her packet of food out of the rucksack and handed it to Roscoe. “This is my meal packet, take it and be on your way. We have urgent business west and cannot spend any more time dealing with you two.”

Roscoe picked up the envelope of dried fruit and nuts and turned to his brother with eyes welling like the waves about to crash on a beach. “Gil, she gave us her food. We can eat.” He tore open the bag and divided the food equally between the two of them. The boys ate with a furor. “Are you sure you don’t have any worms.”

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“Thank you kind girl,” said Gil with a deep and honorable bow and a mouth full of dried apricots. “Thank you.”

Philip sheathed the sword and turned to Shy Isabel and said, “Shy Isabel I think we are now free to push on. Would you lead the way please?”

Shy Isabel, Gwen and Philip all started down the river bed path for five or six steps when a cry of “WAIT!” came across them from the rear.

“Wait!”

“We can help you!”

“Yea, let us help you!”

“We can guide you to your destination!”

“Yea we know all the backwater shortcuts and pitfalls. Trust me when I say, we have found them all!”

Roscoe and Gil had hastily debated their current situation versus the opportunity to travel with souls who might just have the ability to find decent food. The decision was made unanimously and quickly. They would throw their lot in with this crowd…it couldn’t be worse than fighting your brother over nonexistent arthropods.

The three turned to see the two salamanders running at them arms akimbo shouting their pledges of loyalty. Shy Isabel curled around from the front of the pack and calmly stated, “I thank you two for the kind offer of assistance, but I think my knowledge of the game trails will be sufficient to get us where we are going safely.”

“Oh no, no, no, no your game trails may be fast and reasonably safe, but nothing can come close to the security of traveling the waterways with salamanders. We know how to stay out of the light. We are the best at moving from one place to another without getting noticed.”

Philip pulled his daughter and his guide in close for a private conversation. “I don’t think we can trust these two. They go from trying to kill each other to trying to extort us to trying to guide us safely to Black Mountain. This can’t be normal even for this strange place.”

“I don’t know dad, I think we need to give these two a chance. I really think they’re harmless and I truly think they could be an asset to us. Shy Isabel is young and a mammal. These two might be a bit doltish, but they are cold-blooded and willing to help. I say we take it.”

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“Well Shy Isabel? It looks like it comes down to you in this jury of three. Do we add these two to our travel team or cut them loose?” asked Philip.

“My council falls on the side of your daughter. I am not able to fully explain my decision myself, but I do believe that these two could come in handy in the future, and I really do believe that even if we were to say nay to the two, they would follow us anyway. I say best to formally have them along and save us the trouble of whining stragglers.”

“Agreed,” said Philip rotating toward the two salamanders who stood still wringing their hands, awaiting their verdict. “You will come with us and act as guide and local liaison, but I warn you both now, any funny business, you step one of these black slimy paws out of line and it’s the sword for you both. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir, oh thank you sir, you won’t regret this a bit,” said Gil as he grabbed Philip’s hand to cover it with kisses.

“Yes thank you kind sir, you will not regret having us along,” reassured Roscoe.

“I think I already do,” said Philip to his daughter with a wry smile.

“Fine, now that the party is assembled I think we need to get under cover and settled for the night. Please, we are nearly to the bluffs and the secret spot I have planned for the evening. Let us be on our way,” said Shy Isabel and turned on her four delicate cloven hooves and lead the now five man party off toward their evening accommodations.

Chapter Nine

Attack

The band of five made it to Shy Isabel’s hidey hole right as the sun was starting to dip beneath the tree tips. That gave them ample time to collect firewood and set up a quick camp. They would not be in the lap of luxury tonight, but they would be dry and warm, and hopefully safe.

The brothers proved to be somewhat valuable as firewood gatherers as well as collectors of grubs and other assortments of edible bugs. If you can call any bug edible. They were quite taken aback when none chose to join them in their insect snack. As the sun set the two humans found themselves laying out on bedrolls next to a warm and inviting fire. The young faun had collected comfortable straw and heather for her bedding and was cozying in with her four legs pulled up beneath her. The brothers salamander choose to find sleeping arrangements nearer the water. A large stone they could tuck in under or the like. They

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claimed this fire dried the air too much for their liking and their moist skin was suffering for it. They would meet up with the rest of the party in the morning.

Philip did not expect to sleep that night. He thought he would worry too much about attacks from something as they slept in this hole. He thought about his son, alone and scared in a capitol cell. He thought about his daughter right next tom him and in Philip’s mind there was no way he was going to find rest that evening. He was wrong. The exhaustion from the stress, his long walk and the weight of what he had been entrusted to do settled on him hard and with the right combination of warm fire and gentle waves lapping on the river Philip found rest.

A dagger of sunlight pulled Gwen from her deep sleep only to be jolted awake by the sight of two salamander brothers standing over her smiling in a slightly maniacal way.

“We found breakfast,” called Roscoe as Gwen’s eyes tried very hard to focus in on the scene unfolding to her.

“Yes we have found the most delicious breakfast treat for you all…grubs,” said Gil. “Just look how juicy and fat this one is, Philip I insist that you have this monumental grub as your breakfast. It will give you strength for the morning and luck for the day ahead, as my people would say.”

“Oh thank you Gil, but I’m not really very hungry this morning, maybe you should have the grub and I will just have a few handfuls of nuts.”

“Come on dad, it would be rude to turn him down, what do you always tell me when we are in strange and weird situations? Life is short eat the fill in the blank. Well dad here we are and life is giving you a fill in the blank. Life is short dad, eat the grub.”

“Thank you for that lecture young lady, I don’t think I had grub in mind when I made that speech. I was thinking more along the lines of grouper or octopus, not insects.”

“You must know Philip King that if a salamander offers food it is a great honor. They are greedy and gluttonous by nature. Refusing a gift would be seen as a bad omen for our journey. I do believe that you must eat the grub,” said Shy Isabel.

Philip knew he was out numbered and had been outflanked on the breakfast delicacy. He swallowed his pride and looked at his daughter, “Might you have found two grubs, one for me and one for my lovely daughter who regards my speech about grabbing life’s culinary gifts with two hands and biting down? I wouldn’t want this fine gift to go to merely me and not give her the opportunity to share in the honor.”

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“Well now that you mention it, we did find a log with many grubs, but we were hoping that maybe we could eat the rest of the grubs. We only offered to you as a respect as you seem to be the leader of our company,” said Gil with a look of sadness.

“No, I see that you are hungry, and you shall have the lion’s portion of the catch, but I do thing Gwen I and need should eat a grub together. It would be a powerful portend of things to come if we dine together on the fat maggot. Don’t you agree Gwen?” Philip looked at his tween daughter and a wicked and evil smile curled from the center of his mouth right out to the tips.

“Yes, yes of course kind master, you and your princess will have the pick of this grub bounty, responded Gil. He brought the log he had been hold up to the two Kings and deftly broke to top of the log off, reveling a colony of fat white grubs slowing eating away at the log. “You and your daughter my take your pick.”

”OK Gwen, you ready?” asked a newly excited Philip as the prospect of his daughter eating a grub almost outdid the disgust his mouth awaited.

The two Kings both chose a plump grub and held the wriggling beast outstretched before their face. The grimaces of both their faces showed their true emotions and feelings about what they were about to do.

“Here we go, how about we count down from three? Are you game for that, Gwen?”

“Alright let’s just get this over with. By the way dad, I’m never speaking to you again, that is if I live to never speak to you again.”

“Fair enough,” recounted her father. “Here we go…. One, ….Two, ……Three and the two Kings both shoved the wriggling insect into their mouths and started the horrendous task of chewing up a live creature. It was a new experience for both father and daughter.

To their credit and honor both Philip and Gwen stomached their grubs and made no noises of disgust or displeasure. Their faces told the tale all too well.

“Here, here,” yelled Gil as the Kings swallowed and asked for the water skins to be passed their way.

“You have blessed this journey with the eating of that grub, sir,” said Roscoe. “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome Roscoe, but in the future I think the good luck grub needs to be eaten by members of the salamander family, not the King family.

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“Here, here,” called Gwen finishing off a long pull on the water skin. Grubs for salamanders, not for people.”

At that last comment, both Roscoe and Gil looked down at the lower torsos of Philip and Gwendolyn King. The doltish brothers had failed to notice anything unusual about the two Kings until this very moment.

“Hey, you only got two legs,” said Roscoe.

“You haven’t the legs of a beast,” asked Gil. “What manner of creature are you two?”

Shy Isabel stepped up to respond, “No they do not have legs like ours. That is why we are traveling west to see members of the once elder council of mages. We hope these Kings are the ones to fulfill the prophesy.”

“You mean the prophesy the Lord Regent is always on about finding bipeds and killing them on sight so as no one is able to overthrow him and take his power? Is that the prophesy you are talking about?” asked Gil.

“The one and the same,” said Shy Isabel. “Now I need to know your allegiance here and now. Are you still in our debt and willing to risk life and limb to help these humans get to see the mages and then end the reign of Lord Regent Laurent?”

“What you ask will put us next to you hanging from the gallows if we are caught. We could walk away now and save our necks, Roscoe?” turning to his brother and turning his statement into a question.

“No brother, the Lord Regent has done nothing for us and little for our people. We are as good as slaves under his rule. No I say we honor our commitment to these fine folks. We may be in danger, but we also might be on the path to a better life for the two of us and our cold-blooded families.”

“Nobly said Roscoe. We swear to you here and now, brothers Roscoe and Gil Yellowbelly will honor our agreement and act as guide and liaison for you as we travel west in search of the mages. We will help you bring down that tyrant Laurent or die trying.

***

Roscoe and Gil were as good as their word. Between Shy Isabel’s forest knowledge and the brother’s familiarity with the watery trails, the group made good time from the center of the state toward the west. They fell into a comfortable routine, of waking, eating, walking, eating, walking, eating and then sleeping. They rested a few times in the day, but not as much as Gwen would have liked. They were safe and the trip thus far had been a smooth one. The

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confidence was high for everyone as they awoke the fourth day after setting off from Shy Isabel and Johann’s home.

The company set about their morning routines as they had the three days prior. Shy Isabel, now with Gwen’s help collected firewood and built the dying fire back up. Roscoe and Gil scavenged for food, sometimes catching a few fish in the river, if they were nearby. Philip acted as chef if the boys managed to catch anything that needed to be cooked.

Philip took the fish that he was offered from Roscoe and after impaling it with a sharp stick help the carcass over the fire. He was actually starting to enjoy his time in the woods. Philip never considered himself an outdoors man, but he was no city slicker either. He had grown up way out west in Idaho and Montana, and although he had never gone hunting, he had camped many nights out under the stars and could gut a fish. The more he was in the woods eating from the land, the more he enjoyed it.

“I still don’t know why you actually burn your breakfast? That tasty sunfish has been ruined by your insistence that it need to be burned,” complained Roscoe as he watched Philip turn the fish over and over to insure an even cooking.

“You think we should eat it raw then?” replied Philip with a small smile cooking in the corner of his mouth. He usually had this debate with one or both of the salamander brothers once a day. “Have you tried a cooked fish? You never know, you may like it.”

“Yeesh, how can you like that dry flaky meat, when you could have it cold and slippery and juice and lovely?” swooned Roscoe. “You take a lovely breakfast and waste it. You may as well just through our hard earned catch in the fire and let it lay with the ash.”

“You know that might be a good idea, I may just try that tomorrow morning,” joked Philip as a disgusted Roscoe turned and left in a huff.

Philip’s good mood was suddenly thrown into a sense of panic as he saw Shy Isabel’s head snap back and scan the forest right to left. Her nostrils flared a few times and she burst into the brush just to the left of their campsite.

“Gwen, what’s happening? Come here and grab that shield. Why would Isabel run off like that?” questioned a shaken Philip.

“I don’t know dad, but I have a bad feeling about this,” responded Gwen.

“I should say that you should,” came a hissy voice from behind the bushes. And with that a man’s body broke through the underbrush and then rose up to a full height of six feet supported by a snake’s torso.

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The man’s hair was long, but pulled into a long tail of black hair. He wore a full beard, but just below the right side of his mouth his black beard was streaked with an inch of pure white. It gave his chin the look of a miniature skunk. His ears were adorned with hoops of gold and silver. His torso was covered with an indigo shirt in what Philip might have described to his friends back home as a puffy sleeve type. He also wore a black leather vest that Philip noticed while the snake man was turned to call his comrades out of their cover was embellished with a skull above a crossed set of snakes. Below the vest the snake man had belted a huge sword that looked more like a meat cleaver than a weapon. His snake sector began just below his vest and sword belt and was jet black and shined in the morning light.

“Come on out lads, I think we’ve stumbled on a right treat here,” said the same hissy voice.

Philip’s jaw dropped as all of the bushes around the camp erupted with similar snake like men, one of them holding a struggling Shy Isabel, his strong hand gagging her and keeping her screams in. He saw snakes of black, green and a patterned orange and brown. All of the snake men wore similar skull and crossed snake vests to their apparent leader. Each and every one of these snake men was armed to the teeth. Literally, Philip noticed one of the orange colored snake men was holding a wicked looking dagger in his teeth.

The lead snake man moved toward Philip and his daughter as the two brothers made a quick break toward the river. Their quick action was met with even quicker defense from the snake men closes to them. They were quickly set upon and halted roughly.

“Oh no, we can’t have any of this fine party leaving so soon,” said the lead snake. “No this is quite a party. From my count we have one faun, a tasty treat on this fine day, two salamanders, low born amphibians that might make fair slaves, and two what looks to this sailors eye’s as bipeds. Are my old eyes playing tricks on me or am I looking at two bipeds?

Philip had learned some from watching Shy Isabel and the boys interact with woods people over the past few days. He knew that if he could just get them thinking about their own dire situations, maybe they would over look the bipeds in the group. Philip gave that method an attempt.

“Please good sir, we are just passing on our way west and mean you no trouble. If we could simply pass we would be willing to offer as much as we have in our food stuffs. We really have pressing business west of here and would love to be on our way.”

“Share your food stuff he says. Need to be on their way. Do you hear this rubbish lads? I think you here are lacking in some basic knowledge of who you are talking to sir. Let me make my proper introductions, I am Captain Stede, a privateer on this here river. These lads make up

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me crew and would die a thousand deaths for their beloved captain. With that a cheer of “Huzzah!” ran around the encircled camp. “You lot have found yourself in a heap of trouble. I’ve eaten bigger than all of you lot and I am feeling a bit puckish this fine morning.

Captain Stede began to slowly circle the group hissing softly as he passed each of the travelers in turn. “Now, what to do with this insolent little band? It seems to me that I’s heard something about the Lord Regent and his ranger out on the hunt for a few who walk like you,” and Captain Stede pointed his long finger at Philip and Gwen.

Who know what leads a man to do anything but at that movement Philip took his move. The sword of the High King Derek flashed out of the sheath and the blade made a move toward the next of the unsuspecting captain. Philip was not ready for the instant and forceful reaction; every man came to the defense of their captain. Philip’s neck was immediately surrounded with seven blades and only the call of “Hold” from Captain Stede saved Philip’s life.

A small smirk and laugh escaped the captain’s mouth, “You are a brave man aren’t you? Or are you just stupid? He pulled in close, so close Philip could smell the remains of the captain’s last meal, and for his bravery Philip was rewarded with a massive blow to the face from Captain Stede. It dropped him fast to the ground, blood rushing from his nose and cut cheek.

“Dad!” Screamed Gwen as she saw her father struck with force and collapsing to the dirt.

“Bind him fast, shut that girl up and disarm the rest of these fools. The two Bipeds have hefty ransoms on their heads, the salamanders will make good slaves and the faun just might make a meal for us all,” commanded the captain.

Another round of “Huzzah” rouse from the crew as they bound the hands and feet and mouths of Gwen and Philip and Shy Isabel. Study smacks were given to the brothers and lips were licked as crew members passed Shy Isabel.

“Alright lads, back to the boats,” called Captain Stede. “Let’s push a few kilometers and then have a nice midmorning faun snack.”

A member of the crew grabbed Gwen and threw her with little delicacy roughly over his shoulder. Another two snakes grabbed Philip under his arms and carry-dragged him toward the river. A third snake picked up Shy Isabel whispering into her ear how much he was looking forward to having her for breakfast. Two other crew members used fists to direct the bother salamanders toward the river and small fleet of pirate ships.

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The pirate ships were not huge galleons, but smaller river cruisers. Each of the boats was nearly twenty feet long and fifteen feet wide. They were small and maneuverable, each boat were powered by a small steam engine turning a small paddle wheel. The boats were stained dark brown and lacquered heavily. One boat carried a green trim, one white and the third golden edging. Each of the boats flew a flag that matched the skull and crossed snake emblem from Captain Stede’s vest.

“Bring our guests on board,” called the captain as he slithered up the gangway of the boat with the golden trim, clearly his flagship. “This, my two footed friend, is me lovely river skiff. I call her the Awful Eel. She is flanked by her sisters the Damned Serpent and Night Scream. Together these three make a formidable foe. Mr. York fire the engines and bring us around, we sail for the port of Hickory with one small stop off at our hideout near High Point. I have promised the crew a fresh faun feast, and the boys are hungry.”

“Aye, captain,” Returned the snake called York, yelling into a brass trumpet bell the command to fire the engines. The Awful Eel sputtered and stuttered to life and Mr. York cranked the heavy wheel and turned the boat sharply to the right and back down river toward the port of Hickory and the end of Shy Isabel. The other two boats came to life and followed the Awful Eel on her path south.

After about thirty minutes of cruising south down the river the Awful Eel slowed and pulled into a small eddy on the port side of the river. There a stand of cottonwood trees grew into the river and conveniently masked a small tributary leading off behind the trees. The three skiffs powered down and the call for punts came out. Each boat found two snake crews on either side of the skiffs pulling up long wooden poles and pushing the boats up through the tree branches and into the hidden tributary.

The three boats glided silently toward a dock big enough for all three boats to dock safely. Once the boats were secure the crew gathered their prisoners and prey and followed Captain Stede down the dock and up the bank toward a ram shackled series of buildings tucked safely into the rising landscape. From the higher elevation the buildings would be easily missed. From the lower elevation trespassers would have to deal with all manner of booby trap and vicious attack if they were to find themselves calling unexpectedly on the pirate crew.

“Alright lads, I don’t think she will be much of a meal, but I did promise you a taste of fresh meat today, and you know me, I always deliver. So break out the wine and let’s have a feast,” declared Captain Stede.

Shy Isabel was brought forward as the others were dropped unceremoniously hard on the ground near a broken down cabin. The sword, shield and dirk of the high king were brought out of the boat and propped on a nearby tree.

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“I want to drink her blood,” called one snake.

“I wants to chew her bones,” called another.

“I wouldn’t mind just unhinging me jaw and eatin her whole!” yelled the captain.

A huge blade was pulled from some snake’s belt and the owner pulled in close to Shy Isabel only to rear back as a great bellow came from the cabin nearest Philip and Gwen. Out of the cabin door lumbered a huge beast the size of which reminded Philip at that moment of an elephant. The creature was dark brown and wooly and he wasted no time allowing the snakes to prepare a defense. He charged through the group of snake pirates bowling them over like some many pins. A few snakes drew their weapons, but the speed and size of the creature was no match for a few short swords and failing technique.

Snakes went flying left and right and Captain Stede called the retreat, “Fall back lads, to the boats, make haste!” The snakes able to move on their own accord helped those who could not and the rag tag group made for their boats, moored at the nearby dock. Not wanting the snakes to get away completely unscathed the giant creature pulled a huge stone from the underside of a bluff and hurled the great stone toward the escaping boats. His missile found its mark on the Damned Serpent and she immediately started taking on water as her crew made every effort to bail and save the vessel. It was to no avail, one hundred yard downstream the Damned Serpent disappeared below the water level issuing three snakes swimming for other boats and the shoreline.

“That got you, teach you to eat a deer,” bellowed the brown giant.

Philip sat amazed as the scene played out before him. He had to sit as he was tied at the hands and feet and mouth, but still he marveled at the shocking turn of events. Still being bound he wondered if the giant was a rescue or another danger. He was leaning toward danger as the huge beast turned and looked down at the bound and gagged man.

“Well you have gotten yourself in quite a pickle haven’t you? I supposed you would like me to free you and the rest of this motley little crew? Would you?”

Philip and Gwen both shook their heads furiously at the chance of releasing their appendages and tongues. Being gagged is really not a pleasant way to spend a morning.

“You seem to have a strange lower half, but I guess you can’t be much of a risk to me, considering I would break you half at any moment,” laughed the giant.

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Philip thought to himself that is was odd that this huge beast of a creature you look at his two simple normal legs and call him strange, but in a situation like he found himself beggars could not be choosers.

Mr. King looked up at the giant and for the first time really took in what he was seeing. The giant was a centaur like creature, just like Shy Isabel but instead of a deer lower body he had the body of a huge and powerful bison. At his waist a leather sheath held a large knife with an ornate bone handle. He wore a simple buckskin tunic fringed down the arms and decorated with a few simple beads. Over his back he had slung a bulky blunderbuss rifle. The hair on his face and head matched the curly brown hair running down his bison back and poking out just above his temples Philip noticed two short black horns.

As huge and massive and terrifying this bison man was, Gwen and Philip both felt a kindness in his presence and as he cut away their bonds and release Shy Isabel, the three original travelers a felt safe in the shadow of this giant. Shy Isabel was the first to break the silence between them, “Thank you kind sir, we are forever in your debt. Those snakes planned to eat me,” And a shutter ran down the spin of Shy Isabel as well as Gwen and Philip.

“Please let me make our introductions, I am Shy Isabel from the Umstead Forest near the capitol. This is Philip and his daughter Gwendolyn. They are travelers from afar on a mission to find the disbanded mages. Somewhere around here you might find two salamander brothers who have attached themselves to our band and surprisingly have proved useful on our journey thus far. We thank you again for you timely help.”

“Ho, Ho you are welcome little faun. I could not sit idly by and watch those cold-bloodeds eat a four legged friend. I am called Clyde and come from the family Plenty Wounds.

Chapter Ten

Clyde’s Tale

Clyde settled down on the deck of one of the dilapidated little house and called the other around to him. Roscoe and Gil appeared out of nowhere clearly staying under cover until they were well sure that the dangerous time had passed. He took out a bag and pulled out a bar of pressed oats and grains. He started eating and offered similar bars the travelers. Shy Isabel politely declined, but after realizing their food sacks had been lost with the pirates the gang happily shared the granola bars.

“So I am solitary and simple bull. I keep to myself and mind my business, but it seems to me that I have stumbled on a group that is more than they first might seem. I am not one to be nosey, but I think that in light of the fact that I just rescued you from certain death and painful

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torture that you might own me the courtesy of an explanation to who you are and what you might be up to. Do you think that’s fair little faun? How about you two legs? Or you little cold blooded? Does Clyde deserve a story?”

“Yes, Clyde you certainly do deserve a tale and we thank you again for your rescue,” piped up Gwen. “If you all don’t mind I think I should give the story to Clyde.”

The rest of the troupe shook their heads in response letting Gwen know she had the floor. She stood up and turned to face the group now all sitting around Clyde’s massive haunches. She cleared her throat and started in on her tale.

Gwen tale started at the beginning with her and her father and brother playing at the art museum in Raleigh. She told of how the race challenge had been issued and how she and Forest had been running through the rings of the Gyre artwork and how Forest had made it to the third ring first and had simply disappeared. She talked in vivid details of how she and her father had run to find her little brother just to be sucked into the same alternate universe. Her story told of the long trudging march through the forest and the finding of her brother’s American Quarter and the following of Shy Isabel. Gwen told of meeting Johann at his small cottage and of the prophesy that was laid out in front of them and how the Lord Regent most likely had her brother Forest held captive in the capitol. She then told of the decision to make a move toward Black Mountain in hopes of finding the mage Seegar and petition him for advice on ousting the snake Laurent from power. She spoke of finding the fighting brothers Yellowbelly and how they came to join the group. Then she ended with the horrible tale of how they had awoken this very morning to the thoughts of pressing on to the west and were ambushed by the band of pirates and brought to this camp only to be rescued by a giant named Clyde.

Clyde smiled and let out another of his joyful “Ho, Hos,” “You little one are a master of the summary. I feel like I know you well already and we have only just met. You have had a trying few days I dare say. Well small ones, I think a tale for a tale is a fair trade. I am a nomad with no permanent home, Laurent and his snakes have made well sure of that, though the current ruling horse families have not always been a friend to my people either.”

“My story needs to go back a little further that just a few days. To truly know my tale you must go back to the time of my grandfather, when the bison ran free and open on the plains of Anilorac. We were a peaceful people until we needed to be forceful. We did not love violence, but also did not see the fault in defending our land or way of life. As the three ruling families came into power they gradually started to grow their kingdoms together. It was generally peaceful for them, but the bison people found themselves more and more marginalized and pushed to the sides. Eventually the three ruling families met to hammer out

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an alliance and division of the land. The bison chief was invited, but not to the closed door meetings of the three centaur families. When those doors opened and the three kings emerged, our bison chief was simply handed a document and told to be on his way. That document informed my people that we were to relocate our entire population to a small reservation site in the far west of the land. There we were to stay living peacefully within our jail without walls.”

“Well I can tell you that this did not sit well with my people. Our chief protested, but all of his complaints fell on deaf ears. Many of my kind chose to simply leave Anilorac all together, hoping for the freedom they had felt further to the west. Some fought, and some died for our cause, but in the end nothing changed. Our chief and my family, along with a few other prominent clans moved into our reservation and started our lives of exile. I was born on that reservation and lived within those 83 miles for my whole childhood. When I reached my age of adulthood, I told my family that I could no longer live this life of stagnant exile. I had to move, I had to get out, I had to see the land my grandfather had told me stories about. So I packed a few things and set out on my own.”

“I watched from the shadows as the political climate shifted and the snakes and Laurent came into power. I traveled alone and always pleaded neutrality whenever challenged by warm or cold blooded. I was an island drifting alone in a sea of chaos. I have been walking for going on five years now.”

“I found these shacks a few days back and thought they would make a fine way station while I decided which way to head next. I did not know they were inhabited and those snakes certainly didn’t leave any signs they were living here. Cold-Bloodeds never do, they could live just as comfortably under a cold stone. I had just awoken from a poor night’s sleep to hear the rumble of those boat engines down on the river. I made myself scares as best at a bison can, so as to not alert the snakes that I was here. I watched from a distance as they brought you up from the docks all tied and bound. I waited, not knowing who you were or if you were worth giving a second look. To be honest I was about to turn to leave. I saw your situation as none of my business and I have known snakes and pirates in my days of wandering and they are never an easy fight, but I kept coming back to that little faun all bound and gagged and the strange legs attached to the two of you. I realized that one, something bad was about to happen to this little crew and two, and a couple of the members of this little crew only had two legs. I decided to stay and try to listen in a little more. That is when I started picking up the notes of feeding time in the air and resolved to aide you in whatever way I could. That way included me beat the crap out of some cold-blooded snakes and throwing a boulder through the hull of their little boat, sinking it within a hundred yards. I’m still a little proud of that throw. It truly was a once in a lifetime throw.”

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Clyde arched his back and interweaved his fingers as his arms stretched skyward as he gave out a bellowing yawn. “I could use a nap. Didn’t get a good night’s sleep under this tin roofed box. Folks like me need to sleep out under the stars see, don’t know why I tried this inside thing, sure didn’t work.”

“Do you think those snake pirates will come back any time soon?” asked Gwen scanning the river for the slightest sign of slithering reptile men.

“I have had a few encounters with the likes of those pirates; they won’t be back anytime soon. Cowards rarely return. They are right now steaming for another hidey-hole to lick their wounds and regroup. They may get a bit blustery, but the action won’t come for awhile. You are safe here for now.”

“If we are safe here for now, why don’t you tuck in for a little mid morning nap. We would be honored to watch over you and alert you to any dangers or strange currents. It’s the least we can do for you after you rescued us,” said Philip gesturing open palmed toward the giant bison.

“That might just work papa two legs. I’m going to find a nice bed of long grass up and over that bluff yonder. I think I might be able to find a nice stretch of shade that would do me fine for an hour or two. After that I say that I would be willing to accompany you to you meeting with this scribe Seegar in Black Mountain. I do know the way and your group is in serious need of some muscle,” Announced Clyde looking right at Philip and then the salamander brothers in turn.

“A fine bargain good sir,” said Philip and offered his hand in thanks to the mighty Clyde. The giant took it and shook it vigorously, making Philip question his decision and forcing him to make a mental note not to shake the bison’s hand ever again.

The band gathered what supplies they could rummage and climbed the last of the steep river back toward the small plateau just over the top of the bluff. Clyde did find a nice bed of long grass in just the right amount of shade and settled down to an almost immediate snore fest. The rest of the group busied themselves with packing and repacking rummaged bags with near useless items they had scavenged from the pirate camp. They had found a leather sack that was showing signs of mold. Philip had found a dull blade with the tip broken off. The salamander boys rejoiced at finding a nearly used up tinder set, but really couldn’t see why you would need a fire, cool and dark was always more enjoyable that hot and dry in their world. Shy Isabel counted her luck stars that the weapons of the High King were brought out of the boat before the attack. They were able to retrieve the sword, shield and dirk once the snakes were gone and now the still had their proof that there were on the king’s business. Without

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those weapons, Seegar might just as well dismiss them as loony beggars just looking for a quick handout.

The group made ready just a few short hours after Clyde had taken his respite. With Clyde leading the way the now six member fellowship headed off toward the west and rise of the misty Blue Ridge Mountains.

Chapter Eleven

Forest’s Tale

Forest gripped the waist of Andrew tighter than he thought would be comfortable, but Andrew made no mention of discomfort. Forest was in the grips of both utter fear and tremendous joy he couldn’t really decide which. The centaur Andrew charged down the road with a grace and speed that was a wonder to behold and a thrill to be a part of. As small buildings and farms came into Forest’s vision Andrew slowed to mere trot. Banestre cantered over to the boy and asked, “Did you enjoy that charge son? You looked to be having the time of your life.”

“Oh yes, I did. We went so fast; I thought I was going to fall off so many times! Did I hurt you Andrew, was I squeezing you to tight?” asked the young boy on Andrew’s back.

“No little one, I barely felt you there. I am a knight of the realm, it would take more that a small boy on my back to cause me discomfort.”

Banestre looked ahead and his attention drifted to other things. Forest started truly looking around at his current surroundings. He saw farm workers laboring in the fields. It was strange to see centaurs pulling and pushing old broken down plows across the hard scrabble landscape. Forest witnessed young and old centaurs doing all manner of menial tasks. They hauled loads, they pulled wagons, they cleaned, but every one of them to the last man lowered their eyes and head as Banestre and his men cantered by. Forest could not help but notice a sadness in these people, they looked weary and broken down, they looked defeated.

The smells of cooking fires and simmering breakfasts made Forest’s empty stomach growl loudly. He leaned over to Andrew and asked as politely as he could, “Mr. Andrew, are we going to stop for breakfast anytime soon. I haven’t eaten since last night and I am really hungry.”

“Banestre’s in charge of deciding when to stop and when we eat. I would do yourself a favor and not bring up that you’re hungry and looking for a meal stop. Trust me on this, I know what the other side of that conversation looks like.”

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Forest took Andrew’s advice and let his stomach growl away. He was in suburban anguish twenty minutes later thinking to himself he was about to die of absolute and complete hunger, when the three solider centaurs finally slowed to a stop at a small inn.

“See about a private table Calvin,” ordered Banestre. “We don’t need the regulars ogling our guest.”

Andrew helped Forest down from his back and Forest looked around to see a normal looking inn with centaurs of all breeds milling about in and around the establishment. He noticed goats and deer. He saw many sheep and one huge bull man. He saw many horses and was surprised when the door of the inn flashed open and baffling creature slithered out. It was a man on top, just like all of the centaur like creatures Forest had seen on his journey, but the bottom torso of this creature was clearly snake. His snake half was mottled browns and oranges and yellows. He looked a lot like the corn snakes Forest loved to watch at the Life and Science Museum in Durham.

“What is that?” escaped Forest’s mouth before he could even really catch himself.

“Mind you don’t stare boy,” said Andrew. “I’ve seen small snakes take bigger than you for a meal. Best to keep you head down and hope it moves on down the lane.”

The snake man missed Forest behind the bulk of Andrew and carried on down the stairs and down the lane, just as Andrew had hoped he would do. “Trust me there young one, you don’t want to go insulting, arguing or just plain looking funny at one of those snake fellas. Then can be really nasty and they have some really powerful friend.”

Calvin returned and ushered Banestre, Andrew and Forest into a private room where a table was set for four with steaming mugs of coffee at three settings and hot chocolate at the fourth. Forest did notice that the table seemed a bit high and there did not seem to be any chairs in the room.

“Where are the chairs?” asked a confused Forest. “Why is this table so high and there isn’t any chairs?”

“We eat standing up,” sneered Banestre and then remembering himself continued, “We don’t have the anatomy to sit in these chair contraptions you speak of. We stand around the tables and only go down to our bellies when we sleep. Chairs are not something you will find many of here in Anilorac. You will have to join us to break your fast standing. Are you hungry?”

Forest was famished and was willing to eat standing on his head if that was what was required. He stepped up and assessed the meal that had been prepared for him and the guards. The clay pots and pewter trenchers heaped with steaming options. In one pot Forest

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noticed what looked like an oatmeal dish. In another he spied scrambled eggs. Next to the eggs were cubed potatoes, and next to them a plate of sweet rolls. Forest could not have asked for a more perfect meal. He did notice that with all the perfect breakfast options the table was lacking one breakfast staple, he did not see the meat. No bacon or sausage graced the table. He thought it strange until he realized that in the wild horses are natural vegetarians, so it made sense that centaurs would have similar tastes.

The two centaur guards did not wait to be asked to tuck in. As soon as they bellied up to the table they were scooping huge portions onto their plates and shoveling the food into their eager maws. Even Banestre tossed aside decorum and dug into the food. Forest watched for a few moments, mesmerized by the gluttony and poor table manners set out before him. Then he realized that if he did not get into this meal, then he was going to be out of luck. The eggs were already nearly finished and only a few potato cubes remained. Forest grabbed a spoon and collected his share with equal gusto to the three centaurs he shared the table with.

Being only eight years old Forest questioned the offer of coffee, but decided he was on an adventure and adventures such as these required bold moves. Life is short… drink the coffee. At first taste the dark liquid was bitter and hit his palette hard. But the warmth the drink gave him and the jolt of energy the caffeine provided was welcome on this strange morning in a strange land.

The meal was done in what seemed like mere moments. Forest found himself forcing his jaws to chew and throat to swallow, just to keep up the pace with the ravenous guards. As Banestre drained the last of his coffee and spit a few bean dredges on the floor next to the table he said to his guards, “Right you lot, time to be on our way. I know that the Lord Regent will want to meet our young guest here. We should keep Lord Laurent waiting.”

The two sentries hurriedly stuffed their faces with whatever else they could shovel in. They drained their own coffee cups as they walked away from the now disaster of a table.

“We’re coming sir,” coughed Calvin as he grabbed one last sweet roll and stuffed the whole thing into his welcoming mouth.

Banestre bade Calvin to settle up their breakfast debt with the inn keep as he readied Andrew for another ride with young Forest on his back. In just a few quick moments the bill was paid, Forest sat comfortably on Andrew’s back and the three centaurs were on the move toward the capitol complex and their surprise for Lord Regent Laurent.

The three cantered through the now cobbled and paved streets of the capitol. Here Forest noticed less and less centaurs and more and more of those snake creatures. He even noticed some beasts that looked like half man and half insect. It was somewhat unnerving to

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Forest to see huge scorpion bodies with men torsos on top walking through the streets of Raleigh.

The closer and closer to the downtown that they got, the more and more uneasy Forest felt. He felt safe with his new centaur friends, but the snake men gave him a bad feeling. They were everywhere, coming out of shops with armloads of goods, slithering down the streets and boulevards and even getting through out of drinking houses. Forest had yet to interact or engage one of these snake men, and quite frankly that was alright with him.

The three trotted down Hillsborough Street until it dead ended at the old capitol building. The huge stone walls loomed large for Forest. Would he have his audience with the Lord Regent here in the old stone capitol, or would he be wined and dined at the private residence, or at a swanky club. It turned out that none of these opportunities arouse for young Forest.

Banestre clicked up to the guards on duty in front of the capitol and asked to see the Lord Regent. He could tell that the duty guards were not keen on letting the ranger in at this hour, but also noticed the ranger’s weapons and allies and thought it best that he allow this band to carry one, not detain them.

The three were ushered into a small anti chamber and a middle aged goat with wire rim-glasses and a clipboard spun in behind them. Forest thought this was to be a simple audience with the Lord Regent. Apparently not, as the group was detained time and time again so that the Lord Regent could properly accept and address this oncoming group.

Finally Banestre and his deputies were given clearance to proceed into the throne room of the Lord Regent Laurent. Forest marveled at the grand size of the space. The Lord Regent had taken the upper house of the old parliament and turned it into a lush throne room fit for a king.

All of the senator chairs and desks had been removed. In their place was simply a red carpet for the court and general public to stand on. Raised up three steeps above the common courtier was a huge throne made of black walnut and carved with charging centaurs and fleeing enemies. On this throne coiled the Lord Regent Laurent, just waiting.

“Welcome friends,” hissed the Lord Regent. “I do hope your journey has been a safe one.”

“You’re majesty; we stumbled on this odd lad on the outskirts of the county. He says his father and sister are here as well, but will not tell us where they may be,” announced Banestre toward the coiled Lord Regents lounging in his chair.

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“I really don’t know where they are,” shot back Forest.

“Oh, I’m sure I could get you to spill the beans on your companions. They’re has to be something good in it for you,” claimed Calvin.

“Peace young one,” calmed the Lord Regent with a calming voice and a raised hand. “We needn’t be divisive with this new one so early in his visit.”

Lord Regent Laurent waved away the centaur guards with a simple flick of his wrist. Banestre stayed, but shifted toward the wings of the room and with his action it was clear his role was now security and not intelligence. The room fell heavy with thick incense and muted lights. Forest felt completely isolated and alone in this alien world.

“Master Forest is it?” asked the Lord Regent curling in toward the youthful Forest. “I have so wanted to meet you for such a long time now.”

Forest wondered how in the world this strange snake-man creature would know him well enough to want to meet him before their present meeting.

“I’m sorry sir, but how is it that you know my name? How in the world do you know me? I have no idea about the structure of your would. The only reason I know you name is Lord Regent Laurent, is that your ranger Banestre told me.

“I have a few old livestock who assist me from time to time. They told me I would need to meet you and your father and sister very soon. I am very happy to make your acquaintance.”

“They told you about us? Why? What have we done that make us special?” questioned an ever growing confident Forest.

“Well young man I have told you about these wise horses that assist me, but as to what makes you special I would think that it was perfectly clear what makes you special. You my good boy walk on two legs. Here in Anilorac you will not find a single creature that walks as your family does. As you have probably guesses, we all have lower halves like an animal. I am a snake and Banestre is a horse. Around the kingdom you will find all manner of creature. Some of my best deputies are horses. I have many snake friends. The insect world plays heavily into my majority in our congress. I also have numerous sheep and pig and goat attendants that service my daily needs.

Forest had a hard time gauging this Lord Regent. He seemed equally evil and accommodating at the same time. In one breadth he would be chastising Forest or some other

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household staff about a simple miscommunication or misstep, the next he was your best friend willing in to drop it all in the aid of a friend or those in distress.

Forest spoke up, “Please sir, it is not my place to ask, but do you plan on holding me here. If it is all the same to you, I would love to travel on, in hopes of meeting up with my father and sister somewhere out in this foreign land.”

Laurent looked positively amused at this request. “Oh, no my good lad I would never wish to hold you against your will. And I would never dream of blocking a reunion between you and your kin. But, I would very much like to meet your father and sister. I would love to have them here at my capitol complex with you. Are you telling me now that you have no idea of the whereabouts of your family? I find it a bit hard to believe that a boy of eight is here in Anilorac all alone without guardian or protector.”

“No I have no idea if they are even here. My sister Gwen and I were running a race back in North Carolina and I was winning that race and I somehow made it here. My dad and my sister did not appear with me or anytime after my strange movement. I have no idea if they even know where I am.”

“My dear boy, you must be utterly distraught knowing that kin and aid may be just around the corner, but knowing that the corner is difficult to see and nearly impossible to round.”

At this point in the Lord Regent’s speech he got very quiet, almost a whisper and leaned into Forest’s head as he said, “You will help me bring your father and sister to me her in the capitol or you will die.” Forest’s body went stiff as the Lord Regent’s words sunk into Forest’s head. “I need to speak with them, as it is a matter of life or death.”

“Let us put together a grand search party and find the father and sister of this essential member of our new life together. Horses, you are to stick to the lanes and roads throughout the kingdom. Goats and pigs and sheep you are to scour the farmland and ranches looking for signs of a man and daughter who walk upright on two feet, snakes you know what o to do,” announced Laurent with a wicked little grin curling up around him mouth.

“But why sir are my father and sister so very important to you? I can tell you flat out they are nothing special.”

“Oh dear boy that is where you are wrong. The three of you are so very important that I would move heaven and hell you bring you all together here in my capitol.”

At that moment the conversation between Laurent and Forest was interrupted by a centaur centurion bursting through the doors and into the throne room. With a heavy breath

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the centaur announced, “First Lord Regent of Anilorac I come with news from the west. Not but a few hours ago a band of river pirates were set upon but a huge giant of a bison and a small band that included two bipeds, and man and a girl.”

“Hold,” commanded the Lord Regent. “You mean to tell me that this young biped does have a father and sister in Anilorac”

“Yes, it seems like the two bipeds have fallen in with a rag tag group that includes a bison, a faun and two useless salamander brothers. A sorry lot if I even saw one.

“You mean dad and Gwen are here? How could they have gotten here?” asked a stunned young Forest.

“It seems to me quite clear that whatever magic brought you here, the same transported your father and sister to our land,” responded Laurent. “So you had no idea that your sister and father were behind you in the transporter?”

“I didn’t know that my dad or sister was here or that there was a transporter. Honest! Like I said we were running through the Gyre rings and I went pop and after a long hike in the woods and a strange ride and breakfast with your ranger Banestre and a couple of his men.”

“Well this news delights me; I am ever so interested in seeing all three of you together here in my home. I wonder about the company they are keeping, but I am assured that once I have them here in the capitol all will be sorted.”

The Lord Regent looked off into the corner of the room, lost in thought. The assembled group awaited his next order with tensely held breathes.

“Banestre, are the rangers out on the hunt for this motley crew? Can I expect them here in the capitol within the day?” inquired the Lord Regent.

“Yes Lord Regent, my rangers are currently scouring the countryside in persuit of the bipeds and their assistants,” replied Banestre. “I humble ask leave of your grace in only that I may aid my rangers in the search.”

“You are dismissed Banestre, bring me the bipeds, the others are in your hands.”

“Thank you my lord,” answered Banestre turning on his four legs and swiftly exiting the throne room.

“Now it comes to the matter of what to do with you until your father and sister are safely in our protection. I am scared that these ruffians they seem to have fallen in with might

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sway them into thinking I’m some sort of monster. I have heard some rumors out there that I am talked about in hushed tones in this way.”

“Well I don’t think of you as a monster,” said Forest. “You and your men have been very accommodating to me today.”

“Not a monster you say, well that is rich…. Guards!” The security detail standing rigid at the doorway immediately snapped to attention and collected Forest’s arms holding him tight.. “Guards take this biped to the cells and make sure the chamber is deep and dark, he is getting on my nerves.”

“Wait, what, hold on her what is happening?” questioned Forest as the security detail turned him and began marching him toward the door.

“What is happening my young friend is that you are getting a firsthand look at the monster I really am,” said Laurent as the guards escorted Forest out of the throne room. “You really made a mistake trusting me Forest; I am your worst nightmare.”

***

Forest was half marched and half dragged out of the throne room and across a green and into a small building with a menacing wooded door and bars on the lone window. Once inside the building he noticed that the size of the upper building was insignificant, this prison was underground and this was simply the entrance.

An old and matted goat stood at attention as the huge wooden door was swung wide by the first guard.

“Wake up Nimrod, we have another guest for you. This one’s special. The Lord Regent requires special accommodations for this lad. Somewhere deep and dark is in order,” said the second guard.

“Wake up you say, old Nimrod is always awake, even when I’m sleeping. All right boys let’s take the young one down. I have the perfect place for this young master, right next to a old nag.” With that the old goat Nimrod lead the two guards and one very frightened boy down the blackened stairway toward the subterranean jail cells.

Chapter Twelve

The Prophesy

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“No sir, you don’t know what you are saying. We should be keeping to the river, not this high and dry ground here,” whined Roscoe toward an unmovable Clyde.

“N o little cold blood, the river is the den of those pirates and the ears and the eyes of Lord Regent Laurent. Your correct in that it might be quicker to travel that way, but I can assure you that it is vastly safer for us to continue on our current path here.”

“This dry earth with kill us both you wait and see brother,” moaned Roscoe.

“I think you may be right brother,” agreed Gil coughing a dry and dusty cough full of sand and dirt.

“Friends, I think we have managed to reach our destination,” trumpeted Clyde holding the plodding group up with his amble bulk.

The group all looked up to see a wooden sign hammered into the ground ahead of them that read, Black Mountain… The gateway to the Blue Ridge Mountains. “This is wonderful,” said a joyful Shy Isabel, we need only now to travel on past Black Mountain to the scholarly village of Montret and we will be able to find the mage Seeger.”

The group found it easier to pass through the small village of Black Mountain by way of the back alleys and side streets. They did not relish any extra attention from the locals. Once on the other side of town they settled in for their last few mile push toward the hamlet of Montret.

Gwen pulled up alongside Shy Isabel and started to ask her questions about this mage Seeger and what maybe their plan was from there.

“So Shy Isabel, have you ever met this mage called Seegar?” asked Gwen in a warm tone.

“No, the only mage I have ever really known is my father. They were disbanded when I was young and I have no real memory of the mages.”

“So how do you know he will help us, how do you know he is even still here?”

“I only know what my father has told me as well as you. Come here to Montret and find the mage Seegar, he can help you from there. I am as in the dark about this mage as you are, but I trust my father and honestly don’t have a better plan, do you?”

“No, none at all, my dad and I are completely in your hands. We would be lost and probably dead without you and your father, I think we will stick with you on this.”

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After a few more miles of walking, the fellowship arrived at the gates of the community of Montret. No one really knew where to start, so Clyde suggested finding the nearest pub, they usually had the best sources for information and the tastiest mead.

The assembly ambled down the high street and decided on a pub called the Three Legged Mule. Inside they were assessed with some suspicion, but the barmaid, a pretty little doe, showed them to a quite table in the back corner of the pub. She took their drink requests and returned to the bar to fulfill the orders.

Clyde excused himself, claiming he had a man to see about a horse and moved toward the bar. Gwen watched as he downed a huge mug of ale and began chatting up the old mules and mustangs hovering around the bar rail. The barmaid returned with two mugs of swamp water, a disgusting mixture of old dishwater, locally sourced rainwater and distilled liquor made from mushrooms, for the brothers. She placed the earthy smelling drink in front of the eagerly waiting salamanders. For Shy Isabel the barmaid placed a seaming mug of herbal tea. For the two Kings she returned with a mug of ale for Philip, he claimed the ale was long overdue and sorely needed, and effervescent mineral water for Gwen.

“This is like some kind of Lord of the Rings scene. What are we supposed to do next, wait for some dark hooded character to come over and claim he has been waiting for us and take us off to the mage and save the day?” Gwen asked to her father mainly, but to the rest of the table as well.

“I don’t know Gwen, but maybe Clyde might have a tip for us,” Philip replied pointing behind Gwen toward Clyde walking toward the table with another huge mug of ale and a hooded old goat.

“Friends, may I introduce Rufus. He tells me that he works for the Mage Seegar from time to time and can take us to his home this very day. He says Seegar sees no visitors, but that maybe the weapons you carry will prove an ample pass. Finish your drinks,” and with that Clyde downed his huge mug and waved to the barmaid for a refill.

With their drinks all consumed and their bill settled the crowd, now lead by the goat Rufus made their way out of the pub and into the small village of Montreat. This was a small village, but it was clearly dominated by the intellectual. Bookshops and pubs lined the streets. Stores specializing in writing materials and herbal medicines wove intermittently between the houses of books and houses of ale. Creatures of all bloodlines, horses, goats, sheep, deer even obscure animals like boar and antelope walked the streets, books in hand discussing the great troubles of this and every age. Gwen and Philip both thought they had maybe died and gone to book lover’s heaven.

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Rufus lead the band down a back alley and up to a small tree lined street that had an excellent elevation above the high street and offered a perfect spot to view the comings and goings on in the town center. As Gwen moved up the small lane and looked back over her shoulder, she also noticed how this little house also had a perfect view of the town gate and the road leading into the village. Smart, thought Gwen, keep an eye on your neighbors, and keep a watchful eye on those paying a visit to this little village.

As was expected by the entire group, the large welcome bell went unanswered after three loud bongs. Rufus tried a fourth time and said, “I’m sorry Clyde, he really is a bit of a recluse now-a-days. He’s basically a hermit, never coming out of the house, just calling me for help with things like food and drink and more books.”

“Trojans… maybe that is what we need to do?” Philip announced to nobody in particular. “You say he gets regular deliveries right? Well I day we do a bit of Trojan trickery and either act as the delivery crew of find a way to hid in the next delivery. How often does he get these food and drink and book deliveries Rufus?”

“I’m not sure how often he gets them. I know I’m not the only runner he was in his employ; he could be getting one today for all I know.”

“OK, no problem, we just need to find the stores that fill these orders and get them to give us the next delivery to the mage Seegar’s home. Rufus, where does the grub and drink come from?” asked Philip.

“I think most of the food and drink comes from the Wonky Donkey,” replied Rufus.

“The Wonky Donkey, what are you one about know man,” inquired Philip.

“The Wonky Donkey, you know the Three-Legged Mule. I think that pub with where he gets all his grub and drink. I think most of the books come through The Bookworm or the library. I really just go and get his parcels when I am summoned, and honestly that isn’t very often.”

“Right, back to the pub, I think Seegar is in need of a special delivery,” laughed Philip and marched back down the lane toward the pub.

In the pub, it was confirmed that yes indeed the Three-legged Mule did make weekly deliveries of food and ale to the mage’s home. They usually went out on Wednesdays. This was a Friday; it would do no good waiting nearly a week to slip into a regularly scheduled delivery. A plan was hatched to create an extra delivery that would include two large baskets, big enough to be filled with Philip and the salamander brothers in one and Gwen and Shy Isabel in the other. Clyde would pose as the muscle needed to get the massive baskets up to Seegar’s

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door. Rufus blessed the plan and said it might just work. He claimed Seegar had received bigger baskets like the one’s the crew would be hiding in before, so he would not initially be suspicious of the size of the baskets, the timing maybe, but the size no.

The baskets were acquired and the group retreated to the alleyway behind the pub to put their clandestine plan into action. Philip was first to go into the basket. He stepped into the large cylinder of woven reeds and curled up into the smallest man ball he could manage. When his whole body was folded into the basket the two brothers jumped in giving Philip the full aroma and tactile experience of being in very tight quarters with two medium sized salamander brothers. It was an unpleasant experience to say the least. Philip honestly didn’t think he would ever get that wet mushroom and mucus smell out of his nose, not to mention the slippery secretion that was now all over him.

“Oh boys, come on settle down your getting salamander goo all over me!”

“You’ll be fine sir Philip, salamander secretion is good luck in many parts of Anilorac,” shot back Roscoe.

“Yes, your mission is sure to be blessed now that you have been baptized by your salamander companions,” puffed up Gil.

Gwen and Shy Isabel fit somewhat better into their basket, but Shy Isabel’s hooves and awkward physiology made being in the basket together very uncomfortable for both your girls.

“Watch those hooves, Izzy,” Gwen argued.

“You watch those elbows and knees yourself, and don’t call me Izzy,” Shy Isabel injected with a huff.

“OK quiet down in there, all of you. This little surprise party is going to be for naught if I deliver a couple of squawking, arguing baskets full of whiners,” Challenged Clyde settling the whole fracas down. “Now Rufus, you lead the way and remember I’m just the muscle to get these baskets of supplies up to the house. You have to talk us in. Say something like an old mage friend wanted you to have some of his prized books.”

“Fine,” replied a clearly nervous Rufus. “Fine, let’s just get on with it all before I get cold hooves.”

Clyde lidded the two baskets, tied them down with cords and then together with a large band, then hoisted them up and onto his back yoke style.

“Lord you four are heavier than I thought, hang on,” And Clyde grunted off toward the little lane overlooking the town and village gate.

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Rufus lead the way back up the lane toward the home of the mage with a puffing Clyde pushing hard behind him. Rufus rang the bell and called into the house, “Seegar…. Master Seegar, its old Rufus from the pub. Listen, a delivery came addressed to you down at the Mule. It looks like a load of books from somewhere east of here, maybe Chapel Hill and the houses of learning. I got this bison fella to help me lug them up here, can we come in and just set them down, we won’t stay, it’s just the weight is killing my friend here.”

Rufus looked up at Clyde and shrugged a look of disappointment on his older face. The two were snapped back into the present as the red front door of the small house cracked open a few inches and a horse old voice called out, “Who sent those baskets?”

“I’m not sure who sent them Seegar, they just came addressed to you down at the pub and I thought you would like to see them. They are mighty heavy, they must be books.”

“How did they come?”

“On a cart bound from the houses of learning down east of here. Like I said they’re probably books, so can we come in and drop them off, I think the strain is starting to get to my friend Clyde here.”

“No note, just baskets.”

“I’m sure there is a note inside one of the baskets; I never opened them up to check. They were addressed to you, I didn’t want to pry into you private business.”

“Very well, bring them in, but then the two of you are on your way, this isn’t a social visit.”

“Fine with my Seegar, I have things to attend to myself.”

With that the door swung full open and Rufus and Clyde stepped through the door and into a dark room whose air hung think with incense. The room had small windows but translucent screens had been hung over them, blocking out peering eyes and most of the usable light. House plants filled every corner of the room, potted in all manner of containers from traditional clay pots to sauce pans and even old hats. A small fire burned in the hearth at the far side of the room and a large overstuffed cushion sat lumpy in front the fire. Books were scattered to the four walls and discarded mugs and plates dotted the landscape.

“My library is in the back of the house, but you can just put those baskets down here and I’ll unpack them and move the contents myself,” ordered a clearly cranky Seegar.

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Clyde thankfully moved the two heavy parcels off his back and deposited them rudely on the floor near his feet. He maybe put them down a bit too hard for as the baskets unceremoniously hit the ground the occupants gave out a chorus of uff and uggs.

Seegar looked at the baskets and then brought his eyes up to Rufus and the giant of a bison standing in his front room. “What are you two up to? What is the meaning of this? I’m warning you now; if this is some sort of trick you will pay heavily for it.”

With that one of the basket lids slowly inched its way upward supported by the head of Shy Isabel. Gwen tried to stay low, both not wanting to be seen and not wanting to see what was about to go down.

“Sir please…” begged Shy Isabel but was cut short by a shouting Seegar.

“What is the meaning of this trickery? How dare you plant spies in my living room! There will be hell to pay for this treason,” yelled Seegar to the ceiling.

“Good mage, please hear me out. I am Shy Isabel from the Umstead Forest. I am the daughter of your former colleague, Johann and I bring you imperative news and two who could change our world.”

“What do you mean two who could change our world? What are your talking about girl? This all still looks a bit like a set up to me.”

“Please Seegar look on the two Kings I have brought you.” With that the second baskets’ lid was pushed aside and the two salamander brothers shot out.

“Whoa, stuffy in there,” griped Roscoe.

“I thought we were never getting out of the sauna,” bellyached Gil.

“This is what you brought me. This is the vital information and two who could change our world, a couple of cold blooded salamanders, and not even very big ones at that!” screeched Seegar.

“No sir, she means us,” said both Gwen and Philip in unison, standing up in the baskets and stepping over the walls of woven reed.

Seegar’s jaw hit the floor.

“We are sorry for the deception, but we needed to get access to you and could not think of a better way,” said Philip begging forgiveness from the elderly mage.

“So how’d you come up with this little basket trick?” asked Seegar

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“Oh, just something I read in a book once,” responded Mr. King.

“I think I may have read that book,” Seegar smiled in return.

“Sir if we could just a few minutes of your time to explain ourselves, I don’t think you will regret it.”

“Oh I already regret it, but you have my attention, and you will for at least the next few minutes. But, I swear if you are here to ask me for money or some sort of love spell you can kiss off.”

“Show him the weapons Philip,” Shy Isabel coaxed.

“Right the weapons,” Philip rooted around in the basket he was just hiding in. “Here is the sword of the High King,” Philip produced the sword from his basket. “My daughter Gwen holds his shield and Shy Isabel his dirk. These weapons were meant to be a sort of pass from your former college Johann. Do these at least buy us a few more minutes of your time?”

Seegar looked over the sheath of the sword and slowly pulled the blade half way out. His hands ran over the claret and sky blue paint decorating the shield. He reached out and took the dirk from Shy Isabel and Gwen noticed his eyes staring to well up as he turned the blade over and over in his hands.

“How is my old friend Johann? It pains me to know that we are here in the same land at yet we are like strangers,” confessed the aged mage.

“My father is well. He still chooses to work for the Lord Regent; he claims being near the court gives him the intelligence he needs to slowing bring the house of Laruent down. I honestly feel like he has begun to find some comfort and is choosing a life of easy rather than revolution,” Shy Isabel answered truthfully.

“It seems to me that the revolution gene is alive and well in his only child.”

“Sir we are not here for a reunion or to babble on about the olden days. We are here for your help. Philip and Gwen here are Kings and their kin, Forest, rots in a Lord Regent cell. We need your help with the prophesy and planning for a rescue of the young King. The fate of all Anilorac could hang in the balance.”

“Oh don’t be so overly dramatic. These are curious events and yes the fact that two bipeds stand in my living chamber is shocking, but it’s no need to go getting all theatrical. Calm is how we handle these turn of events, calm.”

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“So you will help us Seegar?” pushed and eager Philip. “You really will help us get Forest back?”

“Hold and settle sir, what you desire of me is not an easy choice, and what you want in the end is again a lofty and somewhat tough goal. I will need a carrot to think it over. Will any of you join me?”

“A carrot? A carrot! Sir we need to act now. Forest could be being tortured as we speak. He could be sick or scared or even dying. We need to move now, not stop for a carrot!” confronted Philip with fingers and arms flying.

“Peace my good man. Remember calm will win this day, not unchecked anger. Running pel-mell into a palace as defended and supported as Laurent’s would be a suicide mission. I have listened to you, now you must listen to me. A plan is what we need and a plan will require me to eat a carrot. I find eating carrots always helps stimulate my creativity bone. Will you join me?”

Seeger trotted through the back door of the living area of his small house and returned with a pewter trencher full of fat orange carrots. Each of the assembly took a carrot, but the salamander brothers only did it to not upset an already tense situation. They found the dead flies littering the window panes a much more delightful and inspiring treat.

The sounds of snapping carrots and molars working overtime filled the small cozy room. “Now I’m sure that my little deer friend has already disclosed the prophesy to you, am I correct?”

“Yes he said something about people walking on two legs would come and end the darkness,” said Gwen

“Well don’t you read a load of tales, come and end the darkness? Nice. No the prophesy says,

You mark the words of the mages all,

when three kings walk on two legs are seen,

the snakes and those who crawl will have to fall.

And what Johann believes is that you Philip and your Gwen and your brother currently incarcerated in the capitol at the kings from the prophesy. I have to say it is easy to see that you two walk on two legs and your surname is King, but can we be truly sure that you are here to fulfill the prophesy?”

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“I know these are the ones,” piped up Shy Isabel. “These are the ones that will lead us back toward the light. I know in my heart that these bipeds can bring down Laurent and restore order to our land.”

“Well if the faun believes, that’s good enough for me. What say you Kings, are you ready to take up the sword and charge headlong into a battle for a land you barely know. Are you ready to lay down your life to bring peace to ours? You must know that the road ahead is fraught with dangers and pitfalls and more than one of the characters standing in this room as we speak might be dead and gone at this time next week. What you ask of me in tantamount to a declaration of war. This isn’t a game, and this certainly isn’t a storybook,” and Seeger looked Gwen dead in the eyes with that last line. “So, what say you Kings?”

Philip looked at his only daughter with a fear that only a parent can know. Putting a child in eminent danger was against every parenting gene knitted into all parents throughout history. How could he readily and openly put his daughter in harm’s way?

He spoke up after just a few moments of silent reflection, “I am ready to march now, but Gwen will stay here where she can be safe.”

“A bold and safe move Mr. King, but what say you miss King?”

Gwendolyn looked around the room at her father, the mage Seegar, Shy Isabel, giant Clyde and the goofy salamander brothers. How did she fall in with this group? And how could she abandon them? No she needed to see this through and certainly her father needed her by his side, not hiding in a cottage half a world away.

“I’m coming with you,” Gwen spoke with a calm and clarity that surprised even her.

“Gwen, no it’s too dangerous, you could get killed.”

“Dad, I could get killed sitting in this room reading books. This adventure is for you and I to finish together, you know it, I know it, I know Seegar knows it and I bet Shy Isabel and the rest of this crazy crew knows it as well.”

“Crazy crew? Is she talking about us?” wondered Roscoe, looking up from his attempt to drink the water out of the house plant catch tray at the far side of the room.

“Crazy crew,” scoffed Gil popping another dead fly into his anxiously awaiting mouth. “and yes we know that you have to continue on this mission, even we can see that.”

“It was not my plan,” interrupted Clyde “I had planned to make my farewells after this tale and make my way further west, but I see that this journey and this fellowship is once again

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in the need of some muscle, and I think that muscle should be me. I would act as your strong arms if you will have me?”

“Mighty Clyde, we would have it no other way, thank you,” gushed Gwen hugging the massive bulk of the bison.

“Well it looks like this fellowship is complete, but I find it interesting that you all say you are ready to move and yet you have no idea where, or what you are signing on to do,” scolded Seegar.

“Wait, what do you mean the fellowship is complete? We’re coming too,” chimed in Gil.

“Yeah you can’t leave us behind, you need us,” added Roscoe.

“We are ready Seegar, tell us what we are to do next and let us be in motion,” said Philip moving toward the mage and the door.

“You and your novel speak, let us be in motion, really who talks like that?”

“Seegar,” focused Shy Isabel.

“Right here we go, first the plan, then the action. Come to the table and let’s set about this challenge.” Seegar moved toward the large wooden table on the opposite side of the room covered in dusty scrolls and empty food containers.

“Clear all of this off,” ordered the mage. “And Gwen bring me that rolled parchment there by your feet.”

The salamander boys cleared the table happily scouring the boxes and bowls for leftover tasties. Philip and Clyde removed the scrolls with a cough from a snoot full of thick dust. Seeger bellied up to the high table and unrolled the scroll Gwen had just handed him. Gwen and Philip watched as their home state of North Carolina revealed itself as Seeger pulled the edges apart.

“Right, to the plan.”

Chapter Thirteen

The Plan

Seegar took out a quill pen and a bottle of dark emerald green ink. He uncorked the stopper and drowned his quill in the green liquid. He pulled the quill from the bottle and began drawing large X’s across the black map of the only state Gwen had ever called home.

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“This is Montreat here,” pointed Seeger to one of the X’s near the western side of the map. “Your journey from here takes your further west and then extremely east, before you end centrally in the capitol.” Seeger moved his quill from the X he called Montreat to an X in the far west, then across the map and out into the ocean and the barrier islands. His quill finally came to rest at the X that both Gwen and Philip recognized as Raleigh in their North Carolina.

“Wait, why do we need to head further west. That X you pointed us toward is somewhere past Asheville, it’s like Bryson City land. We need to go after my son in the capitol, not float the Nantahala River for a fun afternoon, and why in the world would we head to the outer banks? That’s one side of this huge state to the other before getting to my son. This is crazy!” protested Philip in an ever growing tone and agitation.

“Dad, calm down. I’m sure there is a reason for these first stops. Let’s now get bent out of shape and just listen,” calmed Philip’s reassuring daughter. “I’m sorry Seegar, could you explain what these X’s you have drawn represent and what your plan for us involves.”

“Yes of course, brave girl, not to worry my father was all bluster as well. He meant well, but let his emotions pull his brain wide of the mark more times than not.”

“Heh, wait, what do you say?” questioned Philip. “I just have a son trapped in a deep and dark prison cell, and you council calm and steadiness. Sorry, I’m a bit emotional right now,” Philip interjected with a hurt passion.

“Dad, again calm down. Seegar has a plan and we need to be listening to it. Now stop interrupting and started listening so we can be on our way and get to Forest,” Gwen scolded in a tone that sounded very much like her mother’s.

“Sorry love,” apologized Philip with a hug and a sheepish grin.

“Right, Seegar, if you would please continue. What is this X further to the west of us?” asked Gwen.

Seegar took a deep breath in through his nose and held it for a few seconds. He then released the breath with a loud exhale, “That X represents Westgate Prison Camp. There you will find a prisoner who was once the Mountain King Ewan. His Royal Highness Ewan was the leader of the western realm before the snake takeover. His court has been disbanded and his lords scattered to the far reaches of the Blue Ridge Mountains. In his place a sadistic Highland cow named Lara rules in his stead. She keeps the western mountain people in fear of her brutality and anger. Your first test is to get to Westgate Prison and spring our former king. It won’t be easy. Westgate Prison is tucked deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains in an isolated hamlet known as Cullowee. The prison itself will be heavily guarded and Ewan will certainly

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have guard details devoted to only him. It will be a challenging jail break, but one that will be the necessary first domino to fall in a reaction that will lead to the ouster of Lord Regent Laurent and all of his cold-blooded and insectoid legions. “

“A jail break at Westgate will not be as easy task. Many of my people reside in that hell hole. It is situated at the top of a steep cliff, with very little access but through the front gate, that as Seegar has said is heavily guarded. The prisoners are kept in cells fashioned out of old mining shafts. Finding the right hole and getting King Ewan out is going to be a near impossible task,” interjected Clyde ducking into the conversation and the room to add his two-cents in regard to Westgate Prison.

“So how do we do it Seegar? How do a middle aged teacher, his teenage daughter, a little faun, a mountain of a bison and two salamanders get into a heavily guarded prison camp?” challenged Philip.

“We sir, if you would remember your daughter’s council of calm I will tell you. I have here in my library a book of prison floor plans and air vents. Remember this prison once served as a coal mine. Many of the air shafts are left unguarded as they have gone long forgotten and unnoticed by most jailers and guards. You will enter the prison through these air shafts and break King Ewan out, returning out the same air vents. I would suggest stealth in this mission to the mountains,” said Seegar.

“This all sounds a bit too much for us. How are we going to find these air shafts and this Ewan character? I don’t think we can do this, do you?” Philip said spinning with his arms flying up in defeat. “I just don’t see how we can do this!”

“Patience Mr. King I have a few tricks up these old and tattered sleeves. I do have some credible intelligence that tells me which shaft they are keeping Ewan in and how many sentries guard him each day and night. Finding the air shafts is a matter for the birds,” shrugged Seegar.

“For the birds? Whatever do you mean, for the birds?” asked Gwen her arms thrown out palms up in a clear gesture of her confusion.

“For the birds means exactly what I said my two footed dear. I have a favor from the bird community that I intend to call in. I helped the Hawk Queen Sara with a little egg robbery problem she was having as the snakes came into power. With her help you will be able to find the air shafts easily and get in and out as quickly as you can with my maps guiding you,” explained Seegar with a cool steady tone.

“So I still think this sounds all a bit herculean, and I’m afraid to ask, but what is the X over in the islands?” inquired Philip.

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“That X represents your second challenge. First, once you have released Mountain King Ewan we will go about regrouping his court and raising up his highlander arms in preparation to march on the capital. While he is building a highland army, you will travel east to the Chincoteague Island Prison…”

“Oh no, not another prison break, what are we gangsters,” whined Philip. “I don’t think we can manage one jail break and now you are probably going to tell me that we are going to bust another king out of jail, right?”

“Correct, at this island prison you will set Coastal King Shamus free,” said Seegar.

“Oh for crying out loud!” said Philip in disgust as he threw his arms into the air and exiting the room and moving toward the dwindling fire.

Gwen and Shy Isabel chased Philip into the front room begging their pardons from Seegar and asking for just a few minutes to get Philip back in the right frame of mind.

Philip stood at the hearth his right elbow propped up on the mantle his palm cradling his temple and his gaze fixed on a blank plastered wall. “We can’t do it Gwen,” he said before they were even fully in the room. “We can’t do it. One of us is going to make a mistake and we are all going to end up dead or thrown down one of these deep dark pits we are supposed to be rescuing King Ewan from. I just don’t see why this Seegar thinks we can even remotely pull this off?”

Gwen moved in close to her father, grabbed his free hand and swung in looking her dad in the eyes, “Dad, we have to try. We have to do something. What else are we going to do? Just sit here and wait for some hero to swoop in a save us. No, I think it’s time for us to step up and be that hero. You and I aren’t outgoing and brash, we aren’t the popular ones at school. We might be antiheros, but think about it dad. In every antihero there is still a hero…”

“Sir and miss, if I may,” Shy Isabel interrupted. “You feel small and alone here and now in the place. You feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. You see mountains of danger and pain before your path, and yet I am here to tell you that these tasks can be done. These kings can be freed and this land can be restored, and yes all of this can happen with the successful rescue of your precious son.”

“And how can you know this Shy Isabel, I appreciate you bravery and perseverance, but at some point reality has to set in. We just can’t do it,” said Philip moving to face Shy Isabel and put his arm over the shoulders of his daughter. “How can you be sure?”

Shy Isabel looked down and then slowly lifted her head and eyes to meet Philip’s. I know you can do all of this for two simple reasons, one the prophesy tells of three Kings

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walking on two feet come they will end this dark time. Second and this one is even more powerful than the first. Second, you are not alone. You are not in this just the two of you. This dare is not a task for you to tackle on your own. Just in this room alone you have five souls willing to help,” at that moment Philip and Gwen noticed that the whole assembly was now watching and listening intently to Shy Isabel’s speech. “We are here to help, and not just to help you bring peace back to our land, no we are here to help you in all that you have to undertake. You are not alone in this, my friends.”

“Come on dad, this isn’t the time to quit. You always tell me not to pull on my negative cord, or some other stupid metaphor. Well stop pulling on your negative cord and come back to the table. We need you to make this whole thing work. Remember the prophesy says three Kings, not one. What do you say?”

Philip’s body released the tension and stress of days of travel and worry and he physically curled over in front of the fire. He let go of his fear and trepidation and he rose up from his fetal position a new man. A man ready to take on any challenge, a man ready to face fear and uncertainty, a man who would rescue his son, together with a strong group of his friends.

Philip marched back to the table and called Seegar to join him, “Now mage, how are we going to bust this coastal king outta the slammer?” Philip looked over at his daughter and Shy Isabel and gave them both a quick wink. Yes this was something they could do, if they did it together.

Chapter Fourteen

Leaving and Meeting

The group reassembled at the table and went over the plans as laid out by the mage Seegar. The long and short of it was they simply had to travel west and break one king out of a converted coal mine prison, then get him off to raise an army of his highland people, while the group travel across the entire land to the barrier islands where they would break another king out of a jail and help him get his army back together. Then the two armies would march on the capitol one from the west and one from the east and together they would win the day and Forest and the High King would be released and everyone would live happily ever after. Good plan right?

Not long after Seegar finished telling of this plans did Philip realize that the plans Seegar where lying out did not include Seegar personally. “Wait, you mean you have been coming up with this jail break plan for years, and you aren’t even coming with us to see it through? Why?”

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“My skills and abilities lie in planning and thinking, not marching and fighting. We must each play to our strengths,” said Seegar with a wry smile.

“Play to our strengths? What do you mean play to our strengths? I’m a teacher, Gwen’s a kid, and what strengths do we have? What makes us qualified to break kings out of prison and start a civil war?”

“Philip peace, our strengths are not always out on the surface for all to see. Our abilities sometimes take time to grow. You strengths are there, you just need to find them,” coaxed Seegar like the old duffer of a mage he was.

“Come on dad, we have to try. What is it that you and mom and Mr. Frank say all the time, Life is short… fill in the blank?” asked Gwen. “Well life is short break some kings out of prison and start a war. Not many in the faculty lounge will be able to top that.”

“It’s the life is short part Gwen, I just don’t want your or your brother’s life to be too short,” answered her dad in a calm but knowing way.

“Time is precious all, and it is time to begin to make preparations for your journey. Rufus you will make your way back to the pub and procure food and supplies for the group. I will draft a plea to the Hawk Queen requesting aide in finding air vents near Westgate Prison and begin to sketch out a map for not only the pits of Westgate, but also the sand bunkers of Chincoteague.”

“What are we to do in the mean time,” asked Shy Isabel as Rufus made his way out the front door and Seegar moved back toward his work desk pulling out more parchment and moving his quill and ink into position.

“You my dear are to rest. You have a long journey ahead, and sleep is to come at a premium. Find a soft cushion and relax, I can promise you that it will be the last decent rest you will have in many days,” answered Seegar in a kind manner.

Shy Isabel made it her mission to get the travelers all resting comfortably. That was no small task considering she had a massive bison and two slippery salamanders to contend with. Soon, though, the bison Clyde and the brothers Roscoe and Gil were snoring away propped up in overstuffed pillows and cushions. Philip and Gwen were another story. None in Anilorac slept in beds or sat in chairs. Their anatomy didn’t allow it or deem it necessary. For Philip and Gwen Shy Isabel created a sort of sleeping palette on the floor near the fire. Gwen thought of it sort of like a sleepover at a friend’s house. Philip just took it for a nice, warm place to rest and was snoring louder than Clyde soon after his head met his pillow.

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All of the travelers found their way to sleep that afternoon. With all they had been through the rest in the safety of Seegar’s home was welcome.

Philip and Gwen were quietly shaken awake a few hours after they had both fallen happily to sleep. Seegar stood over them and silently gestured for them to follow him to the back rooms. The both groggily pulled themselves out from under their covers and followed the mage through the door. Seegar beckoned them over to him near a window looking out over the mountains and the sun setting in the west.

“The time for your departure in nearly at hand,” started the elder mage. “I have little to offer you in words of wisdom, other than trust each other and the team that assembles around you. Find your talents and abilities, they may be buried deep, but they are surely there waiting. I give your this packet,” and Seegar handed Philip a bundle of folded parchment papers. “It contains letters for Kings Ewan and Shamus and even High King Derek. The letters explain your presence and validates the prophesy that you are here to fulfill. The letter to her majesty Queen Lara of the Hawks has already been dispatched and Rufus is here making final preparation for your vittles and travel supplies. It is nearly time to part. Philip will you check on Rufus and see if the others have rousted themselves please. I need a private word with your daughter here?”

Philip nodded his head and moved back to the front of the house looking for Rufus and the others.

“Gwen, I wonder if I could have a private word or two with you?” asked Seegar looking into Gwen’s brown-green eyes.

“Yea sure, what can I do for you Seegar?” questioned Gwen.

“Oh you have plenty to do for me, you are going to free my people from the oppression and tyranny of the snake Laurent, but the conversation I wish to have is about what I can do for you,” settled Seegar. “You Gwen are a powerful piece to this puzzle. You don’t believe that now and may not for some time, but your power is a deep and ancient one and it is buried here,” and Seegar pointed a gnarled old index finger right at Gwen’s chest. “Your heart holds many keys my dear. You mind and your intellect will unlock them when the time is right. Trust your stories, they will guide you when you feel alone and the way to difficult and take this,” Seegar handed a small leather cord with a petite purple stone threaded through. “It is a bracelet, where it and when the time is right, and you have read the stories, you will know when the time is right you will call us to you and we will come. All of us, we will join you at your side, when the time is right.”

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“Wait, how do I call you? How does this stone work, is it magic,” asked Gwen with a million more questions whizzing through her head.

“No, I cannot tell you everything child, some things require life lessons and this is one of them. I have full confidence in you and your father. He is also stronger than he appears. Look after each other and together you will find Forest and make this world right again,” answered Seegar again producing his wry little smile.

Gwen thanked Seegar and rejoined her father in the front room and helped with the final preparations for the journey west. Rufus had been quick but also successful in his mission to the pub. The travelers now each had a rucksack full of dried and cured foods and tied with a sleeping roll. The carried tinder and flint and water, and Philip and Clyde slung wine skins over their shoulders. With the weapons carried by Clyde and the weapons given to them by Johann, they were now both armed and supplied for the journey ahead.

Gwen quietly draped the leather bracelet over her left wrist and connected the loose ends, slowly rubbing the purple stone now sitting peacefully on her wrist. She thought Seegar had given this to in private and told her about it alone, so maybe she needed to keep it to herself for now.

With the sun now hiding behind the high trees of the Blue Ridge Mountains and dusk in the air the travelers stepped out into the early evening and made their goodbyes. Seegar had counseled them to leave after dark to allow them some privacy on the road west. With the short respite in Seegar’s living room and the adrenaline boost for the adventure ahead everyone was eager to get going and log some miles before they slept. They knew Westgate Prison was nearly a day and a half journey from where they were and that Queen Lara was to make some sort of connection with them the next morning. Now all they had to do was go. Sometimes the hardest part of a big adventure is your first steps.

Clyde led the way with Gwen and Shy Isabel following close behind, Philip followed the girls and Roscoe and Gil tailed the whole procession, claiming loudly that they would act a rear guards and not too worry no one would be able to sneak up on them from behind. Quietly to themselves they admitted deep fear for the shadows in the trees were growing long and the sounds of the forest were playing tricks on their simple minds.

The group walked on late into the night. It was a pleasant evening without heavy humidity or biting breezes. They met few travelers on the road and generally made good time. Around midnight the group finally decided they could push on no more and stopped for the night. The salamander brother set about gathering wood for a fire, even though they still thought fires were worthless, drying out your wonderfully wet skin. Each traveler in turn found an agreeable spot around the now roaring fire and unrolled their beds and found a assortment

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of treats that would fulfill them until morning. After a few rousing tales of adventure from Clyde and a few strange tales from the swamps from the brothers, all the trekkers drifted off to sleep.

***

Dawn came early with a piercing cry. Gwen awoke to see a large red tailed hawk defending on the camp. In her groggy half awake eyes she thought it might be swooping in for an attack before she remembered that a member of Queen Lara’s aerie was due to meet with them sometime this morning. She didn’t realize it would be just this early in the morning.

The others must have had similar attack thoughts in their waking minds as Clyde drew a small sword and Philip fumbled with Wormbitr. The brothers made haste for cover under a nearby rock, knowing that hawks and other large birds of prey sometimes liked to take salamanders and other small amphibians back to their nest for a tasty snack.

The hawk came to rest on a branch just above the heads of all of the travelers; she came in so fast the hairs on the travelers blew back as she swooped in for landing.

Gwen wondered how they were going to communicate with this hawk; she didn’t have human sections or human features. She looked, for all the strangeness of this land, a perfectly normal red-tailed hawk. “Hello,” called up Gwen in a shaky and unsure voice.

“Greetings heroes,” the hawk returned the salutation in an extremely high pitch call. Her voice was coming out in a common tinge but her pitch made Gwen and the other wince with every word. “I have some to bid you welcome and guide you on your journey to through the mountains.”

“Are you Queen Lara,” asked Shy Isabel with a courtly bow of her head.

“No, I am called Rachel, and I am the Queen’s chief counsel. I am to travel with you through the day and she will meet up with us later this evening.”

“How is it that you can talk?” asked a confused Philip. “Can all the animals of this land speak?”

“No, not all the animals of this land can speak; only the advanced creatures take the time to learn to speak. Birds are really the only creatures with the capacity for speech. The other dullards are content with grunting and barking,” responded Rachel in her ear splitting shrieks. “Prepare yourselves to travel; we need to be on our way soon. I will fly ahead and scout the trails and roads and guide you as best I can. I cannot promise you will not encounter some danger. The Lord Regent Laurent has alerted the counties to be on the lookout for two

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bipeds. You are to be turned over to the rangers immediately and anyone found aiding or abetting you is to be put to death without question. The bounty on your heads is high. Many here in the mountains are starving and sick, they might make out your legs and see a way to feed their families for the year. Be on your guards. Now let’s be off.”

Rachel proved to be an invaluable help to the group’s travel. She could fly on ahead and spot rangers and constables, then safely guide the travelers around any danger. Without her guidance they probably would have wound up in the back of a ranger prison cart within the first few miles. Not only was Rachel an excellent guide, but she was also a powerful motivator. Nobody got to settle in to a comfortable trot or easy walk, no she kept the group moving at her quick pace.

Toward the mid afternoon Rachel flew down from her high vantage point and perched on a low branch. The travelers caught up with her and all thankfully pulled up to rest.

“We are nearly to our meeting spot with the Queen. We are to meet her at a disused coal mine near entrance of the valley that leads to Westgate Prison. Catch your breath here; we travel on in ten minutes.”

The travelers welcomed any break in the relentless pace this hawk was setting. To keep up with her gentle flight, the group had to nearly run, and run with their eyes focused on the heavens not the rough and snaggled root covered ground that tripped them at every turn.

“The pace is excellent, but the following of the sky is a pain in my neck,” complained Clyde rubbing the stiffness from his bulky shoulders.

The brothers Roscoe and Gil collapsed into a heap at the feet of the other travelers. “How can we go on like this?” griped Roscoe. “I do believe that we will die of over exhaustion at this pace, and without proper nourishment,” whined Gil.

“You have food in your rucksack, what “proper nourishment” do you require?” asked Philip like he was talking to a group of complaining sixth graders.

“This food collected by our horse friend is sustainable, but not proper. Now I could go on at this speedy hawks pace if I have some proper food like cold, juicy grubs,” pined Gil.

“Oh yes, what I wouldn’t give for a long, bristly and chewy earthworm,” wished Roscoe.

“You two are gross,” stated Gwen. “But go and find your tasties if that will make you happy. You have about eight minutes by my count.”

With that the brothers darted off toward a small creek that they hoped would reward them with some sort of slimy treat for their troubles.

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After a pleasant respite from the frantic pace and gloomy task at hand, Rachel called that it was time to press on, “The Queen will not be pleased if she is forced to wait for us to arrive.”

The travelers continued the swift pace as set by the hawk Rachel. After an hour of hectic chasing they watched Rachel swoop low behind the trees and return to their vision with another hawk. The two birds encircled each other and pirouetted in the sky before diving together toward the travelers. The group’s hair once again flew back as the two hawks pulled up and pushed a huge blast of air right at the faces of the tired travelers. The birds found a perch on a nearby dead stump of a tree. Philip and Gwen slowly moved toward the massive bird perched next to Rachel on the dead stump. She was a magnificent specimen, an ornithologist’s dream. She bristled with power and confidence. Her red brown feathers seemed to glow in the dying light of the later afternoon. Her yellow eyes conveyed both power and wisdom. She shrieked a “Greetings,” throwing both of the Kings back in alarm, their hearts racing to near break point.

“Fellowship,” announced Rachel as the others moved in closer to the new bird perched near Rachel. “May I present to you Her Majesty Queen of the Aerie, Lara I.”

Shy Isabel immediately fell into a deep bow and the others followed, though not nearly with the same pomp or reverence.

“Hello champions, I bid you welcome to the far west. You have come far and your journey chasing the sun in nearly at an end. I have selected a suitable site for a quiet camp tonight, and tomorrow morning I will personally guide you to one of the air shafts you seek.

Gwen stepped forward and once again gave a little bow, “Thank you Queen Lara, your hospitality and guidance is much appreciated. Your chief counsel Rachel has been invaluable, if not hasty in her guidance to you here.”

“Rachel always was a busy body and speedy flier, I’m surprised you were able to keep up at all, I barely can,” replied Queen Lara. “Now, I have found a disused coal mine that will act as your camp tonight. It looks like there might be rain this evening and the openings of the mine shafts will give suitable cover for you for the night. It is just over the ridge their and she gestured with her beak toward a small ridge to the group’s left.”

Philip, eager to settle in for the night before any rain fall could descend started up the rise and over the crest only to fall down on his belly turning to the others and motioning for them to get down lower. Gwen looked at her dad with a furrowed brow and Clyde shrugged up his shoulders in a gesture of confusion. The brother salamanders snuck up to where Philip now

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lay frozen to his spot and once they had peeked over the ridge they too buried themselves in the dirt and motioned for the other to do the same.

“Snakes,” mouthed Gil to the others.

“Lots of snakes,” whispered Roscoe.

At that the two birds took to the sky in a wide circle, Philip assumed to do some high elevation reconnaissance, and even though he wasn’t sure what they could do in a fight with a troop of snake warriors he felt nervous as he watched them fly away.

Philip and the brothers salamander belly crawled back to a safe distance away from the ridge to conference with the remaining fellowship.

“What are we going to do now, there are probably seven snakes just over that ridge there,” hard whispered Philip.

“We can’t let them see us, if they do they will surely raise the alarm and the surprise of our prison break with be lost,” said Shy Isabel.

“We can fight,” interjected Clyde rubbing his meaty hands together in an almost welcoming manner.

“Fighting is the last thing on my mind,” shot back Philip. “I think if we turn around now we can find another spot to stop for the night and let them go about their business.”

“But sir, didn’t you see what they were doing?” challenged Roscoe. “They were torturing that poor old goat.”

“I saw, but we have bigger fish to fry than rescuing and old goat, when we have to keep the element of surprise,” shot back Philip.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” questioned Gwen crawling toward the edge of the ridge. As she came to the precipice of the ridge she saw why her father had immediately dropped to his belly. Down the hill near an opening to mine shaft a group of seven large snake soldiers took turns throwing sticks and rocks and fists at a helpless mountain goat. His wool was matted and stained with blood, but he held his head high with every blow he took. The snakes jeered and taunted the old goat, but at every blow, be it physical or emotional the goat shot back with a fist, a kick, a head butt or a snappy taunt. Gwen was amazed at his strength. How could any creature take sure a beating and still be upright?

Gwen quietly crawled back to the group with a sick feeling in her stomach. “We have do to something dad, we can’t let those snakes kill that goat.”

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“How in the world are we supposed to stop them Gwen? Those snakes are probably seasoned fighters. I’ve never been in a physical fight in my whole life. How am I supposed to take out seven snakes?”

“Remember Philip King, you are not alone,” interrupted Clyde. “I have sadly been in many battles, and I tell you now that the biggest advantage is the element of surprise. Think about our plan to free King Ewan. It all hinges on us taking the guards and jail keepers off guard. Well, this is no different. The weather is turning nasty, and I know snakes, they will want to be under rock in a nice warm hole when the rain comes. I have one shot with my blunderbuss and then we charge the cowards. It looks like we are outnumbered, but with surprise and the high round on our side this is a battle we can win. This is your chance Philip, your chance to start to find your courage. What do you say?”

Philip looked at his daughter and before she could say a thing he surprised all assembled, himself mostly when he said, “OK, what do I need to do?”

“Yes,” echoed both Gwen and Clyde as they pumped their fists in the air.

“But you are staying here,” stated Philip pointing directly at Gwen. “You and Shy Isabel are not to get involved in this melee, do you hear me? You are to stay here and if anything goes pear shaped then you are to turn around make your way back to Black Mountain and Seegar. Clyde, the brothers and I will handle these snakes.”

“I hear you dad, we will stay here, you be careful please,” said Gwen and ran to her father to give him a long and deep hug.

“We will be fine, young Gwen,” said Clyde. “These snakes like to run not fight. It will be like a game of ten pin bowling, you watch.”

Philip clumsily pulled Wormbitr from its sheath and held it at the ready. He took a deep breath and held it deep in his lungs for a long minute. He closed his eyes and slowly released his breath. “OK Clyde, how do we do this?”

Clyde unshouldered his large blunderbuss musket and set the powder as he laid out the plan to the nervous party of three before him. “I will take aim and hopefully take out one of those snakes with the shot from my musket. From there we charge like we are running on the devil before they can set and unsheathe their weapons. Bring that sword down hard and fast and then bury it deep in those snakes’s gut. I will be right there with you, my axe finding snake skin. Boys,” Clyde turned to the small salamander brothers “Now is the time to test your allegiance. We need you to take out at least one of those snakes. You have dirks, will you use them?”

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The brothers looked at each other with a solemn stare. They both turned to Clyde and Philip and in unison chimed, “Aye, you can count on us.”

“Good, now we get set, I’m hoping that goat fella will be able to join in when we get this party started. One with the gun, one for the teacher, one for the brothers leaves four for me. Not the best odds, but I’ve had worse,” said Clyde and he moved toward the ridge settling in behind a large oak tree. He raised his trumpet belled blunderbuss, looked over at Philip holding the sword Wrombitr at the ready and the two salamanders, dirks out and a crazed look in their eyes. “Are you ready,” he mouthed.

Philip nodded; the boys just looked on with frenzied faces. Clyde took a deep breath and held it and slowly took aim and squeezed the trigger. The gun erupted with a fiery crack that shook the hills and caused Philip to go momentarily deaf. He watched Clyde in a silent slow motion throw the blunderbuss, pull his tomahawk and charge with a silent yell. Philip turned to his other side to see the salamander brothers charge down the hill dirks and daggers held high. Philip looked back at Gwen and Shy Isabel, nodded and then crested the ridge and charged into the first fight of his entire life.

Adrenaline and stupidity overtook Philip at that moment. He charged at the first snake he really saw and swung Wormbitr in a frantic and uncontrolled way. The shocked and unsuspecting snake easily dodged the wild swings at first but Wormbitr did find flesh, out of dumb luck as Philip’s wild swing connected with the back of the snake the brothers were already fighting. That opening gave the boys the chance to move in close and start burying their sharp dirks in the torso and tail of the angered snake. One snake lay dead, a lead ball deep in his chest. Clyde’s initial charge had felled one other snake and now the brothers had a third nearing exhaustion.

The old goat, who had watched all of this unfold in shock, snapped to and pulled the sword from a fallen snake’s belt and joined the ruckus with a joyful gusto. He finished off the salamander’s snake with a deep trust to the snakes abdomen and then pulled up alongside Clyde. “My name’s Otto, I thank you for the hand. Now let’s finish these black hearted cold-bloods once and for all,” and with that Otto swung wildly at a snake guard who old just blocked the parry with his own sword.

Now that the element of surprise was over the snake guards managed to draw weapons and draw in close to each other for support. Clyde, Otto and Philip, with help from the brothers engaged three of the remaining for snakes. One of the snakes embroiled in a heated battle with Otto called to the fourth, “Go Sebastian, go tell the captain the bipeds are here!” and with that the snake named Sebastian pulled away from the battle and slithered up the hill and over

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the ridge to Philip’s horror, he had crested the ridge right where his daughter and Shy Isabel waited.

***

Shy Isabel and Gwen had been watching the whole fight from the safety of the ridgeline, so they saw the snake Sebastian pull away and move in their direction.

“What do you we do Isabel?” asked an alarmed Gwen. “We can’t fight that guy can we?”

“I think we must, if we don’t he will raise the alarm and our journey will be for naught,” responded Shy Isabel.

“How do we do it?” called Gwen a little too late.

“Well, well what do we have here?” said Sebastian as he moved over the ridge with an easy glide. “A biped and a snake, how lucky I am getting today?”

Shy Isabel drew the dirk of the High King and held it out trying to make it look as menacing as she could, it was not working.

“Oh little one, don’t even try to pull a dirk on me, that little sticker will only be a toothpick for me after I’m done with you,” goaded the snake and he drew his long sword with an audible swish.

“Now little one, time for dinner,” and Sebastian lurched forward only to find the claret and blue shield of the High King blocking his path.

Gwen had leaped from her position in front of Shy Isabel and blocked Sebastian’s attack. He reared back in anger only to be further distracted by something else coming at him at top speed. S high pitched squeal broke the silence as three leather armored hawks strafed Sebastian’s face. Each hawk dug deep into Sebastian’s face as they past. The trio then turned abruptly and returned for a second attack, this time going for the snake’s eyes. After the third pass, Sebastian face and arms ran with blood and he glared at his prize catches with a wild and frightening eyes. He lunged toward Gwen only to stop short his wild eyes shooting open wide in surprise and then pain as the dirk of the High King buried deep in his chest, thrown perfectly by a small faun named Shy Isabel.

The three warrior hawks watched the lone snake fall and dashed to help the other on the far side of the ridge. Gwen and Shy Isabel rushed to follow. Gwen crested the ridge right as her father took deep blow to his left arm. He recoiled in pain as the hawks strafed the attacker. With the added help of the three hawk soldiers and the ferocity that Otto fed the group they

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finally managed to best the snake guards with a final blow from the massive arms of Clyde coming down with force on a beaten snake.

The group of five stood around the fallen snakes chests heaving to regain their wind. The three hawks shrieked and flew off the way they had come.

“Dad,” yelled Gwen and ran to her father who slumped over clutching his wounded arm. “Dad, and you OK?”

“Gwen, are you OK?” winced Philip as his daughter took him in a full embrace. “I’m cut, but I don’t think it’s too bad.”

“Let me look at that wound,” said Shy Isabel pulling Philip’s shirt off and looking closely at the gaping cut on his left bicep. “It is deep enough that it requires stitching. Roscoe get him some wine, he’s going to need it. I will prepare the needle and thread.”

Roscoe ran over the ridge to retrieve the wine skin pulling up short when he noticed the dead snake on the other side of the hill, “Whoa, don’t mess with those girls.”

“Don’t worry Philip, I will have you stitched and clean in no time, just know it is going to hurt a bit,” said Shy Isabel.

Clyde looked from the wounded Philip over to the old mountain goat they had just rescued, “Well met friend.”

“Well met,” returned the goat. Otto stood taller and wider than Shy Isabel, but most did stand taller than the petite faun. His grey white fur was matted and blood streaked. He wore a simple black leather tunic with a fluffy white wool vest. His beard looked to one have been darker, but it now shown nearly silver. His hair mimicked the silver of his beard and at the corners of his temples two small black points pushed through his sweaty mop of hair.

“I’m Clyde Plentywounds and I travel with the brothers Roscoe and Gil, the faun Shy Isabel and the Kings Philip and his daughter Gwendolyn.”

“I am called Otto and I thank you greatly for your assistance, though I’m pretty sure I just about had them right where I wanted them. I was the foreman of this mine, ‘til the snakes shut it down and forced all my diggers into slave holes around the mountains. This here vein of coal is about run its course and the snake Laurent wanted my diggers working more lucrative holes. I failed to leave, so they sent these seven unluckies to bring me down,” explained Otto.

At that moment the Queen Lara and her counsel Rachel flanked by the three soldiers swooped in return. “Thank goodness my knights were able to aid in your triumph,” she said. “I was nervous they would not get to you in time.”

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“We thank you queen for the aid, your knights did turn the tide and help us win the day,” said Clyde and he walked over to Philip groaning on the ground as Shy Isabel readied the stitching needle. “Now I have been in many a battle with true novices, and you sir held your own. For someone with no training and no desire to fight, you have proven your meddle today. With that Clyde pulled out his sharp bone handled knife and put it to Philip’s chest. He drew it quickly across Philips’ breast leaving a small ribbon of blood. “My people honor a man’s first battle with a scar above the heart; you will look back at that scar as a reminder of your bravery on this day. Well fought,” Clyde said respectfully drawing the blade up to his face in a salute.

“Here, here lad, you’ve got your first taste for snake, I’m sure it won’t be your last. Now what are y’all doing up here and how can old Otto help you out?”

The whole group, even Philip, smiled at this strange old goat that had just joined their adventure.

Chapter Fifteen

Into the Pits

Everyone watched intently as Shy Isabel’s small and agile fingers nimbly stitched Philip’s wound up. Not the best surgeon back home could have done a neater, tidier job with those stitches. Otto walked up to Philip as Shy Isabel finished the last stitch and handed him a small flask with the cap removed.

“You sir need a wee nip of this fire water, it will help with the pain, or at least help you not feel much of it,” Otto said as he holding out the small metal bottle.

Philip grimaced as he moved to take the flask with a thankful nod. He pulled a long drink from the flask and spit most of it out in dramatic spit-take fashion, blowing the liquid all over the front of him.

“What is this?” coughed Philip gagging and continuing to cough and spit up the fire water.

“Just a little brew I make me self down in my pits. It’s based on my grandpa’s recipe, but the peat is a little difficult to get up here, so I use charcoal to give it it’s rich earth flavor,” explained Otto. “Anyone else want a taste?”

Clyde took Otto up on his kind offer and drank deeply of the flask. He brought it down from his lips with a satisfactory gasp. “That is a fine mixture friend,” praised a thankful Clyde.

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“Plenty more where that came from down in my pits,” said Otto taking the small flask back from the massive bison.

A quiet and calm settled over the group each looking to the other to carry the conversation forward, or ask some sort of question.

Gwen broke the stalemate with a question for their new comrade Otto, “So Otto you say you worked these pits as a minor.”

“That’s right this was my mine, until those snakes came and shut me down.”

“How familiar are you with the pits and mines around this area?” asked Gwen moving toward the mountain goat centaur.

“Miss, I grew up right here in these mountains. I’ve been down in the pits since I was old enough to walk. You ask me how familiar I am with these pits, I say to you, I know them like my own kin. Why do you ask?”

“We are on a mission to break into Westgate Prison and break King Ewan out of his jail cell. With your help we could manage so much easier. Can you lead us into the prison?” posed Gwen.

“Westgate you say. That is a stiff order. That lead snake Laurent has a tight grip on that there prison. It won’t be easy,” replied Otto.

“But can you get us in?” pushed Gwen.

“Oh aye, lass, I can get you in, that’s the easy part. It’s the getting out that might be a bit of a challenge. That place is not only crawling with snakes and bugs, but it also is a labyrinth down there. Some prisoners aren’t even locked up; they just let them roam around the deeps, knowing they will never find their way out,” Otto remembered staring Gwen dead in the eyes. “I can get you in young one, are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“We have to set Ewan free, without him organizing the highlander guard my little brother is as good as dead. Please help us,” pleaded Gwen.

“Well it would be good to see that old horse back on the throne and not that saggy Highland Cow. OK, I’m in, I will help you spring my king,” laughed Otto at his silly little rhyme. “We will have to wait until nightfall and travel overland. All roads around her lead to Westgate, and I don’t thing we want to just walk up to the front door as ask for the king to be released just like that,” giggled Otto again.

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Gwen was starting to see this silly little goat’s personality. He seemed to be sincere, but boy could he be cheesy. The group used the time before the sun set to rest up and collect anything useful from the bodies of the fallen snake guards. The salamander brothers, who had no reservation about pilfering the pockets of the guards made the most import find of the whole mission.

“Lookee, what I just did find,” hollered Roscoe as he held up a small ring of bronze keys.

“I bet this here little key party is going to help us out mightily as we attempt to break this king out if his jail cell,” chimed in Gil.

Otto moved toward the salamander holding the ring of keys and took a closer look. “I can’t say if these are jail cell keys, but I do agree with our little yellow bellied friend here, these keys just made our day a wee bit easier.” Otto then released the black leather of a snake’s sword belt and wrapped the cold leather around his waist, burying the sword he had used in the recent battle deep into the sheath. “Let’s move away from these snakes. They will begin to smell soon and trust me you don’t want to be around rotting snake carcass.”

The travelers moved slowly up the valley as Clyde hastily dug a small grave and moved the snakes to their final resting place where Clyde mostly covered them with loose earth. They luckily didn’t have long to wait before the sun was setting in the west and Otto was beginning to brief his jailbreak crew on the ins and outs of Westgate Prison.

Gwen and Queen Lara both were surprised to find out that the very air shaft Otto had pegged as the easiest and most secluded air shaft to move into, was also the air vent that Queen Lara had scouted and planned to bring the travelers too. Sometimes a plan just begins to unfold and the right direction is laid out before you.

As per Otto’s instructions the group waited out that last few minutes of dusk in the tree line before moving toward the air shaft. “Now remember once we are in the pits, it will be pitch black without a light. Stay close to each other. With the coal and the coal dust so flammable we cannot bring candles or flame into the pits. Luckily we smart mining folk figured out a better way to light our tunnels, mushrooms.”

“Mushrooms?” doubted Gwen and Philip at the same time.

“Sure, some special mushrooms are bioluminescent, they give off a cold light that gives us minors enough brightness to see what we are doing and not spark and huge coal fire,” Otto detailed for the collected group. “I wouldn’t eat any though; they can make you see some really strange things.”

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“Otto, the Queen Lara is not to go into these pits, it is far too dangerous,” shrieked one of the hawk knights.

“Right, I hadn’t planned on any of you four joining us, too difficult to navigate the pit tunnels in flight. Your majesty it is time for you to return to your nests. Take two of your guards with you and leave one trusted knight here. That knight will act as our eyes on the ground.

“Tapett will stay, he one of my best lieutenants,” the Queen stated confidently.

“Yes my queen,” bowed the hawk night called Tapett.

“Now Tapett, one long shriek from you if you see anything out of the ordinary. It might seem like you are just yelling into a hole, but these holes echo and I will hear your call. Keep a sharp eye.”

“A hawk’s eyes are the sharpest there are,” said Tapett.

At that Queen Lara and her guard detail took the skies with a chorus of thanks and good will from the travelers.

“Otto,” said a quiet Clyde looking down into the air shaft. “I’m not going to fit down there; these tunnels weren’t built for bulk like mine.”

“Oh, you’ll fit just fine my friend. These air shafts might be a little tight, but who do you think did most of the real heavy lifting down there in these pits? Right your people did. This is a shorter air shaft, you will be right as rain one you make it through the 400 meters of this air shaft,” retorted Otto.

“400 meters! I can’t do 400 meters in this little tunnel,” argued Clyde.

“Don’t be such a big baby, none of us are rooting, miner boars, but we will fine, trust me,” said Otto I know what I am doing. “Now are we all ready?”

Each of the travelers nodded in turn though all of them looked a bit shaken at the thought of stuffing themselves into a tight air shaft for 400 meters.

“Right then, off we go,” announced Otto. “Remember Tapett a long shriek if you see anything,” and with that Otto turned and backed his rear legs and haunches into the hole. “Follow me, back into the tunnel and move on your belly, it won’t be hard to you salamanders will it,” laughed Otto.

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One by one the fellowship entered the whole. As predicted the salamanders had no problems, if fact they enjoyed “going to ground” as they called it. They claimed they had been too long in the open air. They need to feel earth above their heads again. Shy Isabel found the air shaft more than enough space for her petite body. Philip and Gwen managed easily on their stomachs half sliding, half pushing down the shaft. Clyde was a whole ‘nother story. Not only did he get himself stuck on numerous occasions, but he nearly had a panic attack so bad that Otto and Gwen had to talk the huge bison back to a calm reality.

Finally Clyde’s huge rump came into view and slowly the rest of his body wriggled free of the air shaft tunnel and he turned to see his friends standing in a side, low tunnel illuminated with a strange green-blue glow.

“Mushrooms,” pointed Otto to glass planter hanging on an iron hooks attached to a wooden support beam. “Each night a guard removes the planter and brings it out to the daylight and replaces it with one that has been out in the sun for twelve hours. That way they can have constant light down here. These shrooms are pretty bright; they must have just replaced this planter.”

“Which way now,” asked Philip looking one way and then the other in the dim tunnel?

“Follow me, and stay close, those snakes don’t make a lot of noise when they move around down here,” said Otto and he turned toward the left and moved down the tunnel.

The dark tunnels creeped Gwen and her father right out. They felt like they were in a haunted house, which both Kings despised. Why would someone want to pay good money to be so scared you pee your pants. Neither King could explain the allure of horror and suspense. Gwen thought you could make a killing making this tunnel into a haunted mineshaft, but then thought she guessed that is what they did. She was sure many prisoners had likely died in these tunnels; it probably was already haunted with poor dead souls tapped to walk the halls and tunnels of their final home. These tunnels creeped her out.

The group followed what seemed like an aimless path first turning to the left and then to the right. Gwen could not make in rhyme or reason out of their path, just the blind faith that Otto knew where he was taking them. Shadows moved across the walls and floors and more than once, Gwen jumped thinking a snake was on her heels or around the next turn. After two more such corners, Otto put up a closed fist signaling the group to hold. Otto’s balled fist quickly turned into a waving reverse hand and he frantically waved the group back deeper into the tunnel they were coming out of. Otto just made it around the corner and to safety when a huge scorpion and bent old snake came skittering by a low conversation melting between them.

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“That was a close one,” breathed Otto whipping his brow with the back of a blackened hand. “When we get close to the cells, you let me and maybe one other go on down the line. We all go moseying into the cell block and we’re libel to set off quite a ruckus with the prisoners. Roscoe, you still got those keys?” asked Otto.

“Yes sir,” saluted the small salamander running the ring of keys up to the mountain goat.

“Gwen you come with me, I need someone to watch my back as I try to figure out what key might work the lock.

“I think we need to open them all,” stated Gwen to Otto and the others. “We can’t just sneak in here and leave with one man, when these cells are most likely filled with innocent men.”

“Not only innocent, but also most likely the court and loyal lords of King Ewan,” interjected Shy Isabel. “He will need them to regroup his highland guard.”

“Opening all of the locks will take time, but I see your point,” agreed Otto. You’re right many of these cells are filled with Ewan’s most loyal advisors. How are we going to get all the locks open?”

“You find the king and give me the high sign that you have him and I’ll get these doors open, don’t you worry about that,” said Clyde rubbing his hands together in a greedy, anticipatory way, scanning the nearby ground for suitable bashing stones.

“Gwen you be careful, it seems a little quiet in here tonight, where are all the guards?” asked Philip.

“As I said many of these cells are left minimally guarded at night as the snakes know that even if one of these prisoners was to escape their cell, they would in all probability wander until they died or were caught down here. These tunnels and this coal dust air can play tricks with your mind,” said Otto.

Otto and Gwen took the ring of keys from Roscoe and proceeded to creep down the cell block until they came to the end and a small door that carried a bigger lock than the other doors. “This looks like a lock for a king, wouldn’t you say,” Whispered Otto, now hand me those keys and keep a sharp look out.

Otto collected the keys and went about trying each key in turn, it was a slow process that ended up making a fair amount of noise. Faces started to appear in the cell grates, calling for answers and freedom.

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“Hurry Otto, we’re taking too much time here, the guards are going to hear what’s going on and come running,” urged Gwen.

“This has to be the one,” grunted Otto and with that the huge lock fell open and the door creaked open a few inches.

Gwen moved around the mountain goat and pushed the door fully open. She didn’t see a thing. None of the bioluminescent mushrooms hung in this cell. She noticed a collection of smelly straw strewed on the ground and a horrible stench wafting at her. She looked right and left and didn’t see a soul in the cell.

Then the blackest and darkest depths of the cell came three chocked words, “Who are you?”

Gwen stopped in her tracks, freezing and going white in the face. The black pushed in on her. It was as if the darkness was alive, pushing, squeezing her, making her feel small and weak.

“Who are you?” croaked the voice again, this time with some agitation.

“I’m Gwendolyn King and I’m with my father and some companions to rescue the Western King Ewan. Are you Ewan?” stammered Gwen with hesitancy not knowing the correct protocol for kings and first names.

“I was once the king of which you speak, now I’m not so sure, but how am I to know your true intentions? You could just be snakes of scorpions here to taunt me further. What proof do you offer me Gwendolyn King,” asked the voice in the dark.

“Come over and look on my legs, I walk, as does my father and younger brother on two legs. We are bipeds and kings by our surname. I have met two mages, Johann and Seegar that believe my family is the key to your prophesy that speaks of three kings who walk on two feet bringing about freedom for your land.”

Gwen watched as a shape began to move in the darkness. “Otto, hand me one of those mushroom lanterns, I need to see in here,” called out Gwen. Otto quickly retrieved a lantern and moved into the cell casting glowing green light on the small and horrible place.

In the back of the room laid a dappled grey coat, muddied with filth and blood. Above the grey coat winced a man who had clearly been in the dark for many days? His eyes looked milky and blank. He wore a sullied tunic, unkempt and wrinkled. His face showed the markings of day old beatings and a unshaven chin showed stubble of mottled grays and black.

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“I cannot see, and your light it burns my eyes,” complained the horse in the back of the cell.

“Are you truly the Western King of the Highlands of Anilorac?” asked Otto. “You don’t look the same as the last time I saw you in a parade in Flat Rock.”

“Time, work and the dark have taken its toll on me down here friend. I spend much of my time locked in this cell, but each day I am taken from this cell and forced to dig my weight in coal. They use the coal above, but I really think they just want to humiliate me and punish me with work. Do you know the way out? Can you lead me out; I can’t see well, all I can make out of you is a fuzzy pink blob and a fuzzy white blob.”

“Your eyesight will return with sometime in the light. Come your majesty it is time we get you out of here,” said Otto and moved to help the once proud king to his feet. Gwen rushed to help and they both pushed up under the armpits of the king.

As they reached the door of the cell Ewan pulled up calling, “wait, many of my court wallows in these same cells. I cannot leave without them with me.”

“You hear that Clyde, start bustin them open,” yelled Otto. “This jail break is about to get loud!”

Clyde nodded in acknowledgment and took a large rock to the nearest dead bolt. The ringing of the stone on metal brought more and more faces toward the bars on the cell doors. Otto and Gwen guided the King out of the cell and turned him over to Shy Isabel and then went about working on other locks. Philip even joined in using Wormbitr to try and muscle open a lock or two. With Clyde’s strength and the worry about being caught, the group managed to open all of the cells in the King’s cell block in a matter of a few minutes. Now joining their ranks they found a number of once fine centaur lords, bruised and battered from their ordeal in their cells.

Shouts of, “Who are you?” and “Why are you here?” and “Is the king here, is he safe?” echoed through the chambers. A general pandemonium filled the corridor.

“Peace,” bellowed a voice from behind Otto and Gwendolyn. “I am here, now settle and calm yourselves. We aren’t out of this hell hole yet,” boomed the Western Highland King.

Many of the centaurs moved closer to the voice, clearly dealing with a similar eyesight issue to the king. They squinted and stared trying in vain to distinguish the king to whom their loyalty was rewarded with years in this prison hole.

“My lord, are you well,” asked one freed chestnut colored centaur?

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“Is that you Grieg?” asked the king. “Are you living my dear friend?”

“Aye, they could not break my spirit my lord, it is I, Grieg.”

The two centaurs embraced, openly weeping at the meeting. It was touching for Gwen and others, but the stinging matter of still needing to escape was gnawing at the back of her mind.

“Your majesty, I hate to interrupt, but we really do need to be on our way. We are yet unnoticed, but I’m sure this ruckus is arousing some sort of alarm,” prompted Gwen in a hurried way.

“Too right you are child, Grieg, lords it is time to cast our lot with these rescuers. I know them not, but if they work to come here and claim friendship I don’t think any of us are in a position to turn their offers down.” King Ewan turned in the general direction of Gwen and said, “We are your humble servants. Lead us out of these pits and you will have the eternal gratitude of the King of the Highlands and his royal court.”

With that command Otto took control of the situation belting out commands right and left. “OK, I will lead the group back toward the air shafts. Each rescuing member of our party needs to lead a semi-blind centaur. Any horse that is not arm and arm with a rescuer needs to grab the tail of another centaur. We create a mass chain to lead us all to safety. Any questions?” commanded Otto with a sure air of authority even in the presence of a king.

“Yess, I have one question,” came a hissy voice from the rear. What do you plan to do when you are discovered by warden Melchoir and he guardsmen?”

“Wait,” called King Ewan. “I know that voice, his taunts and blows are a daily part of my existence. We are discovered. Melchoir is here.”

The group turned slowly to reveal a massing troop of snake and scorpion guards forming to their rear. Each of the snake guards held short swords and spiked clubs. The scorpions clutched long spears to go along with their deadly tail attack capability.

“Ah Ewan, I guess your hearing has not been as sullied as your eyes? Tell me can you see my men massing behind me? Can you? Whoever these fools are who are here in my cell block, it makes no matter. Either they will end up dead or joining you in cells in a matter of moments. This really was a fool’s errand. You are all trapped down here with no way out. My men have the passageway blocked and you can’t just run the other way deeper into the pits. You would roam for days before succumbing to the cold and your lack of food and water. No friends the best thing for you to do is turn around and march right back into those cells. Don’t make this hard on yourselves. Do as Melchoir asks.”

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Ewan leaned down to Shy Isabel, “tell me friend what are our numbers? Do we have a fighting chance against the cold-bloodeds?”

“Sire we number six in the rescue party and now add in you and five of your loyal lords. We total twelve, but half of the group is dealing with night blindness and many of the rescuing group is novice fighters at best,” replied Shy Isabel painting a picture of the circumstances for the half blind king.

“We find ourselves in times of trouble, young one. Do we not?” said Ewan. “I think it was my Great Grandda Ambrose who said it best. In situations like we all find ourselves in currently, the best possible outcome is to RUN!!!” screamed Ewan turning away from the voice of Melchoir and into the darkness.

The shocked members of the rescue party turned as one and followed the crazed king deeper into the pits. Otto and Philip moved toward the front of the party trying to guide half blind centaurs in their charge.

Gwen called to the salamander brothers to, “Grab some mushroom lamps as we run boys.” The brothers managed two glass lanterns full of bioluminescent fungi as they barreled toward the escaping troop.

Clyde turned and let his axe fly burying it in the chest of the guard nearest the chief warden. Melchoir’s eyes bulged in a strange mixture of shock and indignation at the act of killing one of his men so near to him. How dare they kill one of his men? That was his job, and for that, how dare they attempt to kill me.

“After them guards,” called Melchoir in a yell that sounded almost amused at the attempt to escape. “You are all fools to run that way. The pits just grow deeper and darker in that direction. It is only a matter of time before you crawl back and beg to be put back in my cells.”

The group paid no mind to the calls of Melchoir as they darted down the tunnel chased by only a few snake and scorpion guards. Otto deftly guided the crowd down deeper into the cavernous pit mine. Led by some sense between sight and smell Otto managed to pull away from the pursuing guards.

The group made a quick turn to the right and found themselves in a larger cavern with a high ceiling and underground stream running through a small pool and out some unseen exit. The walls were black and rough with veins of coal, but it looked as if this cave had yet to be exploited by the miners.

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“Well done Otto,” wheezed Philip doubling over to help catch is lost breath, “but I think you lead us to a dead end.”

“So he did biped,” cackled a hollow voice from behind. “What plans do you have now fools. Try to run past us, my stinger would ache for you to try. Oh please give it a try,” taunted a huge black scorpion of a man standing in the entrance to the cave.

He was flanked by two creatures, one large centipede man and one smaller scorpion, and behind the trio stood a dirty boar holding a broad axe. The whole group of guards was armed to the teeth and those weapons started the slow dance out of their holders and into waiting and willing hands.

“It looks like this cave with be your burial site, fools. That is unless you want to come back to the cells peacefully. I’m sure Melchior would be lenient if you were to give up now and return. What say you heroes? Do we fight here or do we surrender?” asked the lead scorpion his tail flicking in anticipation.

“Never,” shot out Gwen surprising all around her least of all herself. “The only way you are bringing us back to that Melchior is limp and dead!”

“Brave words girl, you don’t know what a pleasure it will be throwing your lifeless corpse on the pile before my lord Melchior. He might even make one of you a prize, you do look so juicy and tasty,” called the scorpion leader licking his lips and flashing his eyebrows at Gwen.

Philip and Clyde immediately took steps to block Gwen from the menacing scorpion. “You won’t touch this girl,” yelled Clyde flexing his amble biceps. Anger began to rise in the bison as he watched the arrogant cold-bloodeds smile and taunt.

Philip looked up at the bison with true gratitude. He wanted that kind of courage. He wanted to be the one that protected his daughter. He wanted to the one who could stand up in a situation like this and take charge. He never seemed to be that man. He was the one happy to take a back seat and let other drive. His coworkers, his wife and now a giant bison centaur in a deep coal pit in some fantasy version of the Blue Ridge Mountains all took charge before him. Something snapped in Philip’s psyche at that moment, he knew right away how to get these bug men out of the way and how to get his daughter and friends free.

“Listen to me,” called Philip to the friends nearest to him. “I know how to get outta here. I need a tinder set and you all to follow my lead.”

“What do you have in mind dad,” asked Gwen coming closer to her father.

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“Just something I heard on NPR coming to pick you up one afternoon. I was listening to a guy talk to Ira Flatow on Science Friday about a book he had written where he researched the science behind many of our popular myths, dragons, Dracula and…”

“Philip, if you haven’t noticed we have lots of large insectiod guards moving toward us this very moment. Maybe your story could wait,” Otto urged looking over his shoulder toward the guards moving slowly into the cavern.

“Right, so the point is that the legend of Merlin tells of him vanquishing dragons in the caves beneath Wales. The guy on the radio said Wales was coal country and many of the caves built up with coal dust, later in history, grave robbers and other baddies went into these caves with huge torches. When they broke through the walls the coal gas caused huge fireball explosions.”

“How are huge fireball explosions going to help us here dad?” pushed Gwen looking up and over her father’s shoulder at the now very close guards.

“Come along warmies, you can’t win this little tryst,” taunted the head scorpion with his lackeys cackling and giggling their agreements.

“Come on dad, what’s the plan?”

“OK, so the way I see it this cave has to have some build up of coal dust, it’s down deep and really only has the one access point. I say we spark a flint and let the fire take these baddies out,” Philip explained looking hopefully around the confused looking faces of his companions.

“Dad won’t lighting a fire down here and creating a huge fireball also kinda kill us as well? I’m just saying.”

“Gwen, don’t say things like “I’m just saying” drives me crazy. No we will be safely submerged under that water,” and Philip pointed to the small pool just behind their feet.

“The time to put a plan any plan into motion is here,” yelled Clyde moving toward the front of the group acting as a shield for the small group in their preparations.

“It’s time to come along or feel the sting of my tail buffalo man,” growled the big scorpion. “Your time is at an end, give it up.”

Clyde turned his head over his shoulder and called through a sideways mouth, “You have thirty seconds, make something happen.” Then he lunged at the advancing scorpion swinging his axe wildly at its head. The scorpion must have been ready for something as he

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dodged the blade of the axe with some easy and brought his mighty stinger down on Clyde’s exposed right hand shoulder.

“Argh!” yelled Clyde in extreme agony as the scorpion poison injected painfully into his meaty shoulder.

“Come on dad, let’s do this thing….Now!” pushed Gwen.

Otto handed Philip a tinder set and moved the blind centaurs toward the water. The salamanders helped move the horse men into the pool. Shy Isabel and Gwen moved in the water behind the horses. Clyde brought the axe back toward the scorpion in a reverse blow that must have caught the overconfident guard at some sort of surprise as he had to work hard to dodge the blow and the guards behind him all moved back a few steps.

Philip backed into the water up to his waist joining the rest of the group in the freezing underground mountain pool. He thought about what he was about to do, everything hinged on him getting this spark to fly and catch any coal dust accumulated in this air in this cavern. He also needed a now injured Clyde go join them under the water at just the right moment. Time to take control thought Philip and set his jaw and readied the tinder kit.

“Clyde, water…now!” Shrieked Philip swinging his arm wildly around letting the small flint strike the iron wedge in his palm. Clyde turned and dove into the pool going deep right as Philip’s tinder sparked to life catching the coal dust in the air and igniting a massive coal dust fireball. Each of the travelers quickly dunked their heads quickly under the water sheltering them from the inferno happening right above their heads.

Gwen held her breath for as long as she thought she could, and then held it for ten full seconds more. When she could not hold her air in any longer she slowly let her head break the surface of the pool up to her nostrils. She exhaled loudly and took in a deep breath through the nose. Not only did she need to breathe badly, but the scene unfolding made her catch her breath.

The ribbons of coal running through the cave walls now smoked and burned slowly. The air reeked of sulfur and caught painfully in Gwen’s nostrils. The other’s heads slowly started to surface around Gwen, the salamander brothers lastly. Ahead of the banks of the small pool arms and legs akimbo rested the remains of one mighty scorpion, one large centipede, one smaller scorpion and the roasted remains of a dirty boar traitor, still holding his broad axe.

Gwen’s head fully surfaced and she took one last look around to see if any guard had escaped the fireball. “It worked, dad it worked!” yelled Gwen jumping up and wrapping her arms around her equally shocked father.

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“You mean you doubted me, Gwen please I have loads of surprises up my sleeve,” lied Philip with a wry smile curling around his lips.

Otto surfaced and pulled himself out of the icy water shaking out his hind quarters with a vigorous shiver. “The news on the guards is good, but the news on this cavern is not so good. This is a very unstable area now and we really need to be leaving…now.”

The rest of the group dragged themselves out the pool and tried without much luck to shake off the freezing water and find some warmth in the black cave. Otto lead the group past the scorched corpses of the insect guards with a grimace. Clyde brought up the rear of the group and with no one looking pulled the axe from the charred hands of the boar man.

“This will serve me better, then it will you down here,” whispered the giant to the remains of the boar. “Teach you to throw away your king and loyalty, little pig.” And Clyde spat on the ground near the remains, charging out of the cave after the quickly vanishing group.

Chapter Sixteen

Wormbitr

Otto once again skillfully guided the troop through the dark tunnels of Westgate Prison. They moved slowly and deliberately the closer they got to the surface, knowing guards would literally be crawling all over the exit points leading out of the prison. More than once they had to stop, backtrack and try another option as groups of snakes and centipedes blocked their way out.

Clyde held his bulky right shoulder and grimaced in pain as they came to corner and stopped to check the tunnel ahead.

“How bad is the sting of one of those monsters Clyde? Are you going to die, is it poisonous?” asked a clearly shaken Gwen.

“Yes little one the sting of a scorpion is poisonous,” replied Clyde as Gwen’s face went white with fear. “But, no I am not going to die. My arm and shoulder are never going to quite work the same, but not too worry I will be fine in time.”

“If I was home, or at least out in the forest I could do something for your wound Clyde,” offered Shy Isabel moving toward the giant to get a better look at his sting. Clyde’s flesh at the point of injection seeped black puss and the veins radiating out could be seen beneath his skin pulsing that same black ooze.

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“I would thank you for any reprieve you could offer Shy Isabel this wound pains me terribly, but will be fine. My granddaddy always said it’s the little bugs you have to look out for. That giant didn’t have much juice in his stinger.”

Finally the air began to hold more sweetness and warmth. Otto explained the change in air meant they were closer to the surface and nearing the air shafts. The group halted at spot in the tunnel that didn’t look like anything would warrant a pause.

“Why do we stop here mountain goat,” asked Clyde looking around the blank walls with confusion.

“We stop here bison, because right about your thick skull is you way out. Reach up above your head with that meat clever and pull away that bit of ceiling,” said Otto pointing to a spot just above Clyde’s head.

Clyde’s axe moved up above his head and began poking the earth. Quickly the ceiling fell away and large disused air shaft came into view.

“As one are of a mine is tapped, most mine owners plug the air shafts to keep the stability of the mine shaft sound and help prevent cave-ins.

At that moment a piercing shriek filled the corridor making heads pop up and turn wildly from side to side.

“What was that,” asked Philip, fear in his voice.

“That had to be Tapett at our original air shaft, something caught his eye, we need to get out,” said Otto.

“Is this the way out for us?” asked Clyde looking up into the black tunnel.

“This is the way out for some of us.” said Otto. “We need to split up here. All of us going up this one tunnel would take forever and blow our current cover. Clyde, you will take the salamanders, and these centaur lords out this air shaft. It’s larger than our original and you and the centaurs will fit better. I will take Gwen and Philip, Shy Isabel and King Ewan with me and get out the original shaft.”

“Your group will also include me,” chimed in Grieg. “I will not leave my king. My liege let me accompany you out of this hell hole. My eyes are better every minute, I can help lead you out.”

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King Ewan looked at his chief lord and his best friend and said, “Grieg, though I once was the king of this land, I am not the king of this rescue. The man you ask is the wooly one who makes the plans.”

Both Ewan and Grieg turned to glance at Otto with expectant looks on their faces.

“Fine, but let us be on our way. Keep a watchful eye, something caught Tapett’s up there. Good Luck,” said Otto showing Clyde how to build up an earth ramp to help get the centaurs up and into the shaft. Wishing Clyde’s group best wishes Otto moved his group toward the next corner and their escape route.

***

The now smaller group moved quicker down the mine shafts their way lit by the strange green glow of the bioluminescent mushroom lanterns hanging intermittently on the shaft walls. The air continued to grow sweeter and the temperature continued to rise. With the warming air the spirits of the rescue group and their charges rose. Otto once again proved his value moving them right and left through the labyrinth of mine shafts like he had known them all his life.

“Did you ever work here at Westgate Otto?” asked Gwen pulling up along side of the quick moving leader.

“Never here in the mine, no, I toiled in my mine, just over the ridge where you met me. The mountains are very similar and when you have spent much of your life underground in mine shafts, you tend to “see” how they are laid out. I guess I just have miner vision. I know the way out, without knowing the way out,” answered Otto continuing to lead the group at a frantic pace through the dark tunnels.

The troop continued on in silence, only their heavy breathing and crashing hooves and footfalls filling their ears. Gwen thought she was starting to recognize some of the landmarks in the tunnels as she continued on next to Otto. Rock outcropping, and support joyces seemed familiar to her.

“I think we’re getting close, Otto, I recognize things in the tunnel I think. Are we almost there?”

“Aye lass we are almost home, just a few more turns and we will be to our exit shaft. If all goes well we will be breathing clean night air very soon,” replied Otto hopefully.

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The group rounded a final corner and there was their exit tunnel. All save the centaurs recognized the loose earth and hole in the ceiling as the tunnel they had used to enter the mine.

“We’re here,” breathed Philip with a exhale that matched his exhausted body and frayed nerves. “Let’s get out of this dark hole!”

“Oh but this dark hole can be such a nice warm hole, I would hate for you to leave just yet,” hissed a strange voice from somewhere in the tunnel.

The travelers looked around panic starting to overtake their almost festive thoughts.

“Who was that?” asked Gwen. “Who said that?”

The group continued to look around in confusion and disbelief.

“Let’s get to the air shaft and get out of here,” urged Otto moving his group toward the hole in the ceiling and the exit shaft. The group did not need much encouragement and followed Otto right up to the edge of the escape hole.

“Not so fast heros,” hissed the same evil, invisible voice. Dropping from the exit shaft fell a large black and white stripped snake body connected to a horrible looking man. He was bigger than any of the snake men Gwen or Philip had seen thus far in their journey. The snake’s reptile body curled around and he rose up to full height, just barely fitting inside the mine shaft tunnel. He wore a black linen shirt, open wide at the neck, with his sleeves rolled up to his mid arm. His right forearm’s muscles flexed as the group noticed his long curving blade. His ugly face was hidden behind a scraggly and patchy beard and his dark black hair was slicked back with some sort of oil or grease. He was a terror on scales.

“Why my friends do you choose to leave so early? Have I been such a poor host?” asked the snake.

“Melchior,” whispered King Ewan from the back of the pack to a shocked group.

“Your majesty I hope you can “see” that I can’t have my prize guest leaving on these terms. My orders from the Lord Regent Laurent are to make sure the only way you leave is in a box. You can see can’t you my lord? How are your eyes adjusting to the light?” laughed Melchior again with an evil hiss escaping his lips.

“You can’t take us all Melchior,” challenged the king. “We are many and you are but the one.”

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“So your eyesight is better, yes I am only one and you are many as you say. Two half blind, half starved horses, one old goat, a baby faun and two bipeds, I think I like my chances just fine,” goaded Melchior in return.

Otto saw his chance to strike as the snake and horse exchanged barbs. His knowledge of the tunnels had proven invaluable, his knowledge of hand to hand combat was clearly lacking. His wild and telegraphed attack was easily dodged and parried by Melchior. The return blow was not as wild or foreseen. Melchior’s wicked curved blade sliced into the old mountain goat opening his side and spilling his red blood.

“Otto,” yelled Gwen running to the fallen goat. “Isabel help me, please.” Shy Isabel rushed to her friend’s side under the looming gaze of the giant Melchior. The two youths held Otto’s wound and tried to comfort their hurt comrade.

“Well, what do we have here?” purred the snake. “A little faun and little biped, I have had a letter from the capitol to be on the lookout for two bipeds traveling in the western kingdoms. It looks like I am having a very good day. I have found the bipeds and they have brought me a nice and tasty young treat. After I deal with these horses and men, I will eat you little faun, I promise you that, and little girl if the Lord Regent didn’t desire you with such a passion, I would be eating you as well,” and Melchior licked his red lips.

Melchior made a move toward the youngsters and pulled back sharply as a long and curvy blade found his throat.

“You back up now snake,” commanded Philip holding the sword Wormbitr firmly to the neck on the evil snake. “You won’t be eating anything today, except maybe your own tongue.”

“Brave words biped, that’s quite a weapon you hold there, can you use it?” mocked Melchior sneering with frustration.

“You touch my daughter or her friend and we will just have to see about that won’t we?” Philip returned not letting the hold of the blade or his will waver.

“You fool; you have no idea what you are doing. I’m Melchior, chief warden of Westgate Prison and decorated veteran of the Warm-Blood Wars you can’t beat me.”

“Try me snake,” boomed Philip confidence surging through his arms from the curved steel blade extended from his hands.

“Your funeral man,” shot back Melchior lunging back and bringing his own weapon up to meet the blade Wormbitr.

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Philip felt the vibrations from the steel on steel collision all the way to his teeth. Melchior repositioned his body and pointed his sword at Philip. “You are lost human. Nothing can help you now.” He sprung toward Philip blade slashing. Philip only just got Wormbitr in position to block the blow and save his skin. The closer the blade Wormbitr got to Melchior the more confidence Philip felt in his arms and soul. He used that sudden power to move on the snake man. Philip thrust Wormbitr toward Melchior’s torso and to everyone’s surprise, the two combatants most of all, Wormbitr found flesh and dug deep into Melchior’s stomach.

“AHH,” yelled the snake and batted the blade away with an angry sweep of his own weapon. Philip and Melchior reset, swords up ready for the other to make the next move. Philip looked strong and fresh his eyes flashing confidence and his jaw set. Melchior held his wounded stomach and breathed heavy his eyes flashing hatred and wildness.

“It’s only a matter of time now snake, your wound is big and you’re bleeding out. You can’t win,” taunted Philip with words that Gwen surly never would have believed would ever come out of her father’s mouth.

“You’ll never beat me human,” wheezed Melchior lunging slowly at the man taunting him. No one taunted Melchior. His blow was easily blocked by Philip and pushed back.

“You’re weak snake, slither off in to the dark and die in peace. This is the end for you,” challenged Philip sword raised in attack position.

“Never!” shouted Melchior using his last ounces of strength for one last ditch assault. The swords met and danced back and forth, back and forth in a ballet of metal only ending with Philip and Wormbitr caught up under Melchior and his blade. The swords locked together in stalemate.

Philip looked to Shy Isabel just five feet away and called, “Isabel the tooth!” Shy Isabel reacted immediately pulling the dirk of the High King from its sheath and tossing it to Philip’s outstretched left hand. The small blade found Philip’s hand and then found the belly of Melchior, Chief Warden of Westgate Prison and decorated war veteran as Philip buried the blade deep into Melchior’s side.

“Looks like never came pretty fast, huh snake?” said Philip as Melchior’s body went limp and fell dying to the tunnel floor. Philip pulled the dirk from Melchior’s side and tossed it down pulling up Wormbitr with two hands and pointing it to the neck of the warden. “You now are truly beaten; yield and I will spare your retched life, though I know you would not offer me the same service.”

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“You’ll have to kill me now man, can you do it,” laughed Melchior through bloody teeth and mouth. “You may have bested me, but you don’t have the stomach to finish me,” coughed the evil snake.

Melchior’s head snapped back, violently kicked by an unseen hoof. His head rolled to the side and his arms and body relaxed air gurgling from his open mouth, his unseeing eyes staring up at the King of the Western Lands, Ewan Gordon.

“It looks like my eyes are getting a little better, I saw that little grey blob and thought in needed a goo kick. Did I get it right?” asked King Ewan looking toward Philip.

“Your majesty your aim was perfect,” Grinned Philip shoulders relaxing as he shelthed Wormbitr.

“Dad,” screamed Gwen running to her father and wrapping him in a huge bear hug. “You were great! How did you do that? And how did you come up with all of those great fighting lines? It was like I was watching a movie or something.”

“I don’t know what came over me there, it was like I was possessed and that sword was guiding me and telling me what to do. I was a puppet and someone was pulling my strings,” answered Philip sounding unsure of his response.

“Tell me of the sword, Master Philip. What is its make and how did it come into your possession?” asked King Ewan.

“The sword is a blade called Wormbitr and it was given to me by Shy Isabel’s father, Johann. We were to use this sword, and the shield and the dirk to prove ourselves and our story to the mage Seegar. I believe these weapons once belonged to the High King of this land?” explained Philip.

“The blade of the High King you say, and then truly you were possessed in your battle with that snake. Wormbitr, and his little brother the Dragon Tooth, are surely the weapons of my old friend Derek. They have served his family well for many generations and hold a special property when in the presence of a snake. Both blades were forged with snake blood in their core, and they both long to mingle with fresh cold-blood. In a fight with a snake, if you hold Wormbitr, you are near invincible. The sword with guide your moves, seize your mind and propel you on toward a victory. Your man Johann is a wise mage to hand that weapon to an inexperienced swordsman like yourself. He must have known that even in a novices hand like yourself, you would be a force to reckon with,” King Ewan made clear for all to hear the tale of Wormbitr and how Philip bested the snake Melchior. “Hold these weapons close, they will be

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needed again, I’m sure of it, but now we must depart before any more guards choose to block our path.”

“Won’t Melchior have other guards stationed around the air shaft?” asked Gwen. “Are we still safe to up this way?”

“If I know Melchior, he would have called his guards back so he could have made his kill alone and then reap the laud and honor for himself alone. Pride and greed ruled his heart. If there are guards up there they were told to hold well back. We should be able to make it out before they are on us,” responded King Ewan.

“We must move now,” urged Shy Isabel. “Otto has lost a great deal of blood and I fear we are losing him. Please let’s be on our way, I need medicines a stable setting to work on him…now.”

“Yes let us move,” called out Grieg. “We need to build up the earthen ramp so we can make it to the air shaft. Philip, Gwen, My liege let us to work.”

The four escapees moved quickly moving earth and rock, coal and shale into a simple earthen work pile that would support the centaurs and they moved into the air shaft. They were lucky that Melchior’s greed and warning to his guards had held, they saw no more snake or insect as they worked. Each passing moment the two centaurs’ eyes grew stronger and stronger. After twenty minutes of furious scrapping and piling the ramp was ready and the group prepared their escape.

“Otto will need to ride on my back,” stated Grieg. “He is too weak to walk and too large for Philip to carry. My king help Philip and Gwen get him up to my back.”

Philip and Ewan did most of the heavy lifting and Gwen and Shy Isabel steadied their friend and comforted him as the jostling and bumping aggravated his deep wound. The managed to get Otto up to the back of Grieg and using a belt they lashed the old mountain goat to Grieg’s waist ensuring he would not fall off even if he lost consciousness in the air shaft.

“Right, Philip you lead the fellowship, followed by the girls and King Ewan. I will bring up the rear. Let’s move.”

The group did as Grieg commanded; he must have been a leader of men in his previous life as he easily settled into a commander’s role in their final push for freedom. Up the air shaft they struggled, none more that Grieg carrying the extra weight and burden of the injured Otto. Philip’s head broke through into the open evening air. The smell and space around him was intoxicating. He longed to just run free in the open mountain glen, and he had only been in the pits for a few hours.

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A low call came from a nearby tree and Tapett flew down close and landed near the opening. “Well met Philip, hurry your group out and I will lead you to your companions. They are safe quite near here,” said the hawk night before flying back to his watchful perch.

Philip helped his daughter and Shy Isabel pull themselves out of the air shaft hole, then did all he could to help King Ewan exit the hole with some semblance of grace. He failed miserably as the king flopped and flailed blindly stumbling from the hole. It took everyone assembled to guide Grieg and Otto free of the dark hole in the ground. With much effort and many groans and grimaces, they managed to get the pair loose of the earth and walking with their group toward Tapett’s tree top perch.

“The others wait near here, just through the woods there. I will lead you to them and then all of you to my Queen. She is expecting us all tonight,” called down the hawk knight and he took to flight with a huge jump and graceful catch of the air.

The small group headed off following the hawk, Philip leading Grieg and Otto and Shy Isabel and Gwen guiding the King. Both centaurs felt like their eyesight was better, but the evening dark did nothing for their vision, they still needed guidance in this strange terrain.

After a quick march through a think pine stand Philip and Gwen were attacked by two smallish black and yellow creatures calling out their names and climbing all over the two humans.

“Gwen, you live,” yelled Roscoe.

“Philip, you walk in one piece,” screamed Gil.

“We are so happy! You are not dead!” hollered the two brothers in unison.

Clyde moved in close with a warm smile and open arms, “Friends it is good to see you in the half light of this moon. It is good to be out of that hole and together again,” Clyde’s welcome dropped to silence as Grieg and Otto came in to view. “Oh no, what has happened?”

“Clyde, Otto has been cut, badly. We need to get him stabilized and safe so I can work on him,” said Shy Isabel her voice shaky with worry and concern.

“He rides on my back, help me move him over you lot,” ordered Clyde turning to the small group of centaur lords that had escaped with the bison.

The centaur lords moved as one and gracefully transferred the hurt mountain goat to the wide back of Clyde. The members of the ever growing group looked to each other to make the decisions to move. White eyes looked to wide eyes as small puffs of steam escaped their weary mouths.

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King Ewan took control of the lull in their group, “Sir Hawk, please lead us on to your Queen. We are in need of shelter for this night and medicine for this injured hero. We must be off with haste.”

“Aye, your majesty, follow me,” called the hawk Tapett taking to the air once more.

The trail to the Queen of the Hawks was a long one, and before long many in the company were grumbling of cold and weary bones. Gwen and Shy Isabel both had to take breaks on the strong backs of the centaur lords. To their credit, the salamander brother and Philip never complained or asked to respite on the backs of a centaur. They trudged on like true soldiers.

An hour later the hawk Tapett flew high and fast toward a tree and a fire sparked to life, followed by similar fires all through the tree tops. He circled slowly and pulled in close to the leaders of the pack, “We are here friends, the aerie of the Hawk Queen.”

Gwen looked up to the dark tree tops watch more and more small signal fires ignite as they drew in closer and closer to a large burnt out pine. Each of the dead bows of the tree held a knight and a signal fire. Dead in the center of the gnarled old tree sat the Queen Lara waiting patiently for the group to assemble.

“Greetings heroes,” announced the Hawk Queen. “I am pleased to see you all here in one piece, or at least nearly in one piece. You are safe here in this clearing, my knights have collected camp gear from an old storeroom we raid from time to time. You can set up tents and my knights will keep the watch. Tend to your injured and rest, we will talk more in the morning.” With that the Queen lifted gracefully into the air and was gone into the night darkness.

The centaur lords, aided by Philip, quickly set to the task of setting up a camp and bringing water to a boil for Shy Isabel and her forest remedies. Colorful pavilion tents were soon dotting the clearing and a roaring fire warmed the bones and spirits of all encircling the blaze. Simple meals were shared and soon the group splintered off as individual retired to a comfortable rest, some for the first time free in nearly ten years.

Shy Isabel did everything her forest lore could do, she had a warm pain power drink down Otto’s gullet minutes after the water had boiled. She had cleaned and dressed his wound after suffering through nineteen stitches. Now the weak mountain goat was sleeping peacefully in a tent near the fire.

Gwen and Philip, recognizing they had done all they could for Otto, huddled together near the fire warming themselves and sharing a moment together.

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“Dad, you have been awesome on this journey, do you know that,” said Gwen looking up into her father’s eyes, reflecting the flickering fire light.

“No Gwen, I’ve been a coward for most of this adventure. You have been so brave and strong. Any power I have I take from you. I am so proud of you Gwen, you really are becoming a great young lady, but I’ve always said that haven’t I?”

“What’s going to happen next dad?” asked Gwen. “Where will we go from here?”

“I have no idea Gwen. I hope we can find a way to Forest, but we are caught up in something big here now aren’t we? This is more than just getting to the capitol and getting Forest out. I think I am starting to see that now. I want to get to him desperately, but to get to Forest I think we are going to have to play Seegar’s plan out to the fullest. I think we are going to need to break this King Shamus out of prison and set these kings on the capitol. I don’t who will join us on this crackpot mission, but I hope we can count on Clyde and the salamanders, and Shy Isabel and I hope we can count on Otto.”

“Do you think he’s going to be ok Dad,” asked Gwen pain in her eyes.

“I sure hope so sweetie. He was so helpful and so brave tonight and Shy Isabel is doing everything she can, and we both know she is a bit of a miracle worker. I’m sure he’s going to pull through. Now, it’s late and we have to meet a hawk queen early tomorrow,” smiled Philip at his young daughter. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan dad, let’s go to bed.” And Gwen and Philip rose from the fire side and made goodnights and their way to a pavilion tent set aside from them. They pulled back the tent flap and found two bed roles unfolded ready for their occupants. The two Kings happily fell into the bedrolls and were snoring away moments later.

Chapter Seventeen

How to Build an Army

The sun had been up for over an hour before the light wrestled its way into Gwen’s tightly shut eyes. She did her best to fight the bright sunlight and continue her sleep, but she knew she was on the losing end of that fight. Gwen rolled over and pulled her covers over her head grumbling about “needing more sleep” and “stupid sunlight” when she hear her father’s sing-song voice calling out a familiar morning song.

“Good morning sunshine, how did you rise so soon, you used to sleep to ten o’clock and now you sleep to noon?” sang Philip moving to his daughter’s bedroll and hugging her into fully

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awake state. “Good morning sweetheart, I’m guessing you sleep as well as I did… like a dead stone.”

“Good morning dad, terrible singer and scourge of my morning. Why must you sing that silly song every morning?”

“You grandfather would sing that same silly jingle to me when I was your age and I guess the tradition continues. How did you sleep?”

“I slept fine, until that blasted sun poked in here and stabbed me in the eyes, and then some strange man started singing silly rhymes in my ear,” laughed Gwen hugging her father and moving out of her once comfortably warm bedroll.

Let’s get a move on; we have an audience with the Hawk Queen in one hour. We have to get us both presentable. For me that is going to be quite a task. The hawks have started raiding some storerooms and have found us some new tunics to wear. We will have to wear our same pants as those don’t exist here, but new tunics would be welcomed. I don’t think I can remember what color this shirt was originally,” Philip smirked at his daughter looking down at his filthy shirt, and moved out of the tent giving her some privacy to change her own grubby shirt.

Gwen poured a basin full on steaming water, someone had been working hard while she was lazing away the early morning, and began washing her coal crusted face and hands. Soon the white porcelain basin was black with coal grime and dirt. Gwen thought it was probably the best face washing she had ever had, in her whole life. With a clean face, neck and hands, her hair would have to wait for another time; she removed her soiled clothes and changed into her new tunic. Her new clothes were a shirt of soft hemp dyed to a pale green with a shiny black belt buckled with a dull silver clasp. The shirt felt wonderful after days in her old, nasty top. The only bad thing was she was still in her soiled and muddy jeans. Somehow and someway she was going to need to find a tailor who could make her a new set of pants or at least a new dress. She pulled her still greasy hair up into a tight pony tail and ducked under the tent flap to join her father for something to eat and then the audience with the hawk Queen.

Gwen pushed out into the camp and witnessed a camp busy with responsibilities and chores. Hawks swooped down and around shrieking orders and suggestions. Centaurs bustled around grouping for supplies with hazy minor eyes. Clyde and the salamander brothers sat together eating their breakfasts. Clyde appeared to be eating something in a bowl and the salamander brothers were clearly eating some sort of insect that at one time had many segmented legs. She found her father near a small smoking cooking fire peering into an oven pot hanging over the open flame.

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“What’s for breakfast dad,” asked Gwen walking over toward her father noticing that he too had changed his shirt. He now wore a similar hemp tunic, but his held only the natural color, no dye.

“It looks to me like oatmeal, Gwen. How does that sound?” asked Philip stirring the thick porridge and dropping it back into the pot. “Are you hungry?”

“Yea, I think I could eat what the salamander brothers are eating this morning, I’m famished,” replied looking over at Roscoe as he downed another centipede with a noisy gulp. A shiver ran up Gwen’s spine but she still laughed a little under her breath.

“Scoop me out a big bowl, I’ll be right back I want to check on Otto and Shy Isabel quickly,” called Gwen already moving toward the pavilion tent that Otto slept in the previous night. “Hello Shy Isabel, can I come in,” whispered Gwen once she reached the closed tent flap door.

A quiet response came, “Come in Gwen.”

“Shy Isabel, how are you? How is Otto?” asked Gwen as she pushed her head up and under the tent flap.

Shy Isabel looked up from her wound tending as Gwen pushed all the way through the tent flap doorway. Gwen was a little taken aback when she saw Otto’s face, clean and peaceful in the muted morning light of the tent.

“Otto is doing very well. I was afraid that an infection would set in his wound, so I stay up last night flushing and cleaning, and packing the wound. I think my diligence paid off. He seems to be better even this morning,” said Shy Isabel moving to Otto’s forehead padding the old goat’s brow gently with a clean pack of gauze. “He is still weak and will not be able to move freely for awhile now, but I think I can safely say that he will mend and be well very soon.”

“Can I get you something to eat, or a cup of coffee, you have worked so hard on Otto, thank you Shy Isabel, you truly are a magician with herbs and roots,” said Gwen.

‘No thank you Gwen, I have already eaten my breakfast. And thank you for your kind words. I have always been drawn to the healing arts. Father encouraged me to learn as much as I could from his library and even apprenticed me for a summer with a local apothecary. It is my dream to share my healing skills with as many afflicted as I can as I grow to adulthood.”

“Well as I say, you are a healing magician. I don’t plan to go anywhere in Anilorac without you and your bag of goodies,” smiled Gwen turning to leave Shy Isabel to her tasks. Gwen returned to her father and the others eating around the small campfire.

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The hawk knight named Tapett dove down toward the breakfasting group and announced that her majesty Queen Lara would see them in one half hour. They were to finish their breakfast and move back toward the audience tree and then Tapett gracefully lifted away toward the tree tops.

After a quick breakfast of oatmeal and dark black coffee Philip and Gwen, along with support from their friends were ready to hear news from around the land in their meeting with Queen Lara. They approached the same tree they had stood in front of the evening prior. In the same central crook of the dead tree perched Queen Lara. Surrounding the Queen all around the tree’s boney limbs hawk nights stood at attention guarding the audience.

Gwen and Philip lead the delegation in and both Kings without being prompted bowed slightly as they made eye contact with the Hawk Queen. The grand bird made a similar gesture in return and then spoke in her high shrill voice, “Good morning bipeds, I trust your accommodations were suitable for you last evening.”

“Thank you your majesty, yes you and your hawks have been incredibly hospitable and our accommodations for the evening were perfect,” responded Philip looking up to the noble hawk in her tree throne.

“The news from the east is dire my friends. Bounties have been placed on you the likes of which I have never seen. This will bring out all the professional bounty hunters, and any other two-bit criminal looking for an easy pay day. The bounty is for two bipeds, alive. At least Laurent wants you living for now. The bounty hunters will have to capture you, not just find and kill you. I think that gives you some sort of advantage. Your companions do not carry such an luxury. There is also a bounty on their heads, but they are to be killed on sight, no capture for the bison, salamanders or the faun. I’m sure the mountain goat with be added to the list when word reaches the capitol of his role in the freeing of the Western King. Your friends now risk life and limb to support your cause,” explained the queen. “I feel like our land is beginning to see change in our future. As news spreads about three bipeds walking our trails people with have to decide where their allegiances lie. In your future I foresee you finding both those who wish you well and want to help you continue on your quest, and those who see you as a burden and challenge to their current life and situation. Be wary of those who offer friendship be they warm or cold blooded. These are dangerous times for you, friends, take care and be mindful of the challenges you face,” said the wizened raptor queen.

The words spoken by the queen started to slowly sink in to the minds of Philip and his daughter Gwendolyn. They now had a price on their heads. A price so large that everyday people would have a hard decision to make, turn in two humans they had no relationship with or feed their family until the end days. As they continued this quest they would be hunted and

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questioned at every turn. It was a daunting task they faced without a crowd of baddies trying to snatch them every chance they had, now it seemed nearly impossible.

“My hawk Aerie supports you in the fight against the snake overlord, but I cannot travel with you. I offer you three of my best knights to join your fellowship and act as guides, lookouts and eyes for your group. I send with you Tapett, Sabine and Isaac. You know Tapett well enough and Sabine is like a daughter to me. Isaac is my son, my youngest son. He is a prince, but not close to the throne with his birth order. He is young, and in need of a challenge. He will accompany you and use this adventure to prove himself a worthy member of my and soon his brother’s regal court,” shrilled the Queen. “We will supply you as best we can from here and then you will be on your own to make your way east. I bid you all the best of luck. I will be watching your progress from afar through my network of eyes across the land. Do what you were brought here to do. End the tyranny of this snake and bring about a peace in this land, a peace that has not set on us for ten long years.” With her speech concluded Queen Lara leaped to the sky followed quickly by four of her winged knights. “Good luck again,” she called back as she flew from view over the tree tops.

“Well the good news is we have three hawks to keep an eye on things,” Philip said as he shook his head in disbelief and turned to find the centaurs to make an exit plan.

***

Philip and Gwen walked through the camp followed by Clyde toward the centaur tents. He found King Ewan in hushed conversations with his chief counsel Grieg. The other centaur lords circled their leaders guarding them from unwanted visitors.

“Hello my lord, a good morning to you,” called Philip over the shoulder of one of the centaur lords. “We have met with the Hawk Queen and now know more about our way forward. We need to talk and discuss what your plans are now that we are in the light of day. By the way how are your eyes this morning?” asked Philip with true concern.

“Good morning Sir Philip. I am glad you are here now. Grieg and I are making plans to set up our regional headquarters and begin to rebuild my kingdom. I cannot return to my home in Flat Rock, it is currently being occupied by that fat Highland Cow Ramhar and her insect and snake cronies. We plan to make way to my ancestral home near Roan Mountain. My ancestors first settled their many generations ago and tucked in a quiet valley is a log cabin I know well. We will travel there and then work to bring friendly Highlanders into our fold,” informed King Ewan. “I wish I could travel with you to the east and work to free my comrade Shamus, but my way is her, building up a force that can march on the capitol and break this evil snake’s hold on our land. Oh and my eyesight is better every minute. By the end of this day I venture to say I will be full sighted, thanks to you.”

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Philip gave another shallow bow at the compliment from the king, “Yes we wish that you where able to ride with us, we could use extra hands and the command mind of Grieg and yourself would be a welcome tool,” responded Philip.

“I can offer you two of my better lord to help you with your journey. My lords Barnabas and Bowie will accompany you east. They are loyal and hard working and will serve you well. I wish I could do more but the rest of my lords are needed to work on the hearts and minds of these highland peoples. I think we can muster a good sized army, it will take us a few weeks though,” said King Ewan.

“So we have a few weeks to get to the Outer Banks and free this king Shamus, get him to build up his army of coastal people and get them marching on the capitol. No problem,” smirked Philip. This amazing journey filled him with dread and fear and really all he could do was giggle in the face of it.

The rest of that day the two parties made their final arrangements and by mid afternoon they were ready to depart. The group of centaurs lead by King Ewan and Grieg cantered up to the rag-tag conglomeration of Philip and Gwen, Shy Isabel, Clyde and the salamanders, the three hawk knights and two centaur lords. Otto would stay with the hawks until he was better and then join Ewan at Roan Mountain. Together the two groups looked at each other in sad eyes. This was a good by that pained all involved. Everyone knew that the next time they saw each other it would be on the field of battle.

The two groups silently said their final goodbyes and turned to make their ways off to the tasks they had before them.

Epilogue

Forest was hurled into the cell by the gnarly old goat Nimrod. “Enjoy your stay young master. Do tell the staff if we can do anything to make you stay more comfortable,” laughed the old goat.

The cell was dark and dank. The only light came from a small opening the size of a brick high up at the ceiling’s edge. He cursed his rotten luck for falling in with that band of traitors. They had lied to him and he wasn’t happy about it. He raged at the door and screamed at the top of his lungs. All his anger and his entire wrath fell into the black hole that was this central prison. But one did hear his cries and his screams. One did hear the boy and made a note on his wall in scraped rock on rock. This boy might be his ticket to freedom. The centaur moved to the far corner and kneeled down wiggling the corner paver loose opening a passage between his cell and Forest’s.

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