Part Three: Invasion

By Flynt

*1*

Rays from the late afternoon sun reflected off the steel spear points and armoured figures as the two forces faced each other across the open meadow. As Sarmak predicted, the Elves, receiving news of the Overlord's armies advance, had massed a force of their own. The Elves had one of the finest armies in the land. Now, on the border of the Elven lands, the two armies stood. Uneasiness filled the air. The Elves were tense, waiting for the first wave to strike. Within the Overlord's army, ogres, orcs and humans milled impatiently, eager for battle.

"What are we waiting for?" One soldier asked his companion, who answered with a shrug.

A nearby lieutenant over heard the question. "We have received orders to wait," he indicated the army's commander, a tall slender figure with eyes as black as Sarmak's, for like his master, he belonged to the ancient race of Angels. He was scanning the sky as if waiting for something.

"Apparently," the lieutenant continued. "We are expecting someone."

Moments later the lieutenant's statement was confirmed as a dark speck appeared in the sky, growing larger and larger. An awed hush came over the Elves as they beheld a site never seen in their lifetimes. A dragon, black and huge, circled the meadow, the blue green scales of its underbelly glistening in the sunlight. It landed between the two armies, turning its baleful reptilian gaze towards the Elves. Caleich, sitting astride the dragon's shoulders allowed herself a small smile as the felt the fear from the Elven army. The Dragon yawned, opening its mouth wide, revealing rows of sharp white teeth as long as daggers. Drops of saliva, part of the dragon's breath weapon hit the ground. On contact with the grass it burnt and hissed, leaving no doubt as to its acidic content. Caleich slid gracefully from the dragons back. The great beast looked at her, as unspoken words flowed between them. Caleich stroked its muzzle.

"No, not now," she whispered. "Return. I will call when I have need of you."

The dragon rose on its hind legs and, with several strokes of its powerful wings, became airborne. Caleich walked over the commander, who gave a small bow.

"We have been expecting you my lady."

Caleich turned her gaze towards the army and then to the Elves.

"Is that all they have to offer," she said with contempt. "Pathetic."

"Just give the word and we shall grind them into the earth."

"No," Caleich ordered. "I am feeling generous. Wait here and under no circumstances interfere. Is that understood?"

The Angel looked confused for a moment. "My lady?"

Caleich stared at the commander, who finally nodded. "Understood."

Caleich turned and confidently, almost arrogantly, strode toward the Elven lines. She stopped approximately 50 paces away.

"Who is in charge of this rag tag mass you call an army?" she shouted.

There was silence for several moments before one Elf stepped forward. He was dressed in fine chain mail, his long brown hair in a ponytail. His movements showed he was an experienced warrior.

"I am. My name is Cassalon. And in the name of our High King I demand you remove your forces from our lands at once!"

"You demand?" Caleich laughed. Behind her the Angel commander looked uneasy. If anything happened to Caleich, Sarmak would have his head. But if he interfered, Caleich would most likely do the same.

"You are in a position to demand nothing Elf!" Caleich continued. "However I am feeling generous. If you stand down your troops and surrender, I promise the consequences won't be too painful."

"You expect us to accept your proposal?" Cassalon replied. Within the Elven ranks came an angry murmur.

"Who does she think she is?" One Elven soldier muttered.

"I don't know," another replied. "I can't believe that was a dragon she arrived on!"

"It looks like she is in command," the first soldier replied. He raised his bow. "Cut off the snakes head..." he muttered as he let the arrow fly.

Cassalon turned in alarm as he heard the arrow whiz by. "Hold your positions!"

He turned back, fully expecting the dark haired woman to be lying dead or injured before him. To his surprise Caleich stood before him, clutching the arrow inches from her throat. She had seen it almost as soon as it had been released, and had deftly snatched it out of the air. She gave the Elf a smile. A cold, cruel smile that send shivers down his spine.

"No," Caleich said softly. "I don't expect you to accept. I knew you wouldn't." She dropped the arrow on the grass and spread her arms wide. "I expect you to DIE!" 

A fierce wind began, driving Cassalon back. Caleich rose into the air, higher and higher, until she hovered directly above the Elven army. Her laughter, wild and maniacal, filled the air as green fire formed in her hands. She threw a fireball and then another, and another in rapid succession, sending a seemingly endless barrage onto the hapless Elves below. Those that didn't perish in the initial onslaught screamed in pain as acid from Caleich's exploding missiles came into contact with their skin.

"DIE, DIE, DIE!" Caleich screamed as she unleashed her hatred and fury. So bright was the green glow from her fireballs that even those in the Overlord's army had to shield their eyes. When it finally died down, there was nothing but a smoking crater in the earth. Swiftly and brutally, the Elven army had been shattered, its survivors fleeing into the nearby woods. Caleich spun in the air, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

"Attack!" She shouted to the Angel commander. "Attack! Wipe what remains of them from the face of Kithan!"

Stumbling through the woods, Cassalon heard the order. By some miracle he had survived the initial conflagration. The acrid odour of the fireballs and burnt flesh assailed his nostrils, parching his airways. Oddly his thoughts turned towards a long cool drink as he blindly lurched forwards. His throat felt so dry.

*****

*2*

So parched, so dry! Kahreen swallowed, the action painful to her moisture deprived throat. Three days in the desert, and the unrelenting heat was taking its toll on the adventurers. Despite strict rationing, the water was almost gone. The food had run out yesterday. The group had take to traveling at night when it was cooler, seeking whatever shelter they could find at morning to hide from the heat of the day. This morning found them near a small stony structure, the remnants of what was probably a large mesa centuries ago. The group settled beneath it, finding whatever shade they could.

Kahreen looked at her companions. Most were asleep, exhausted by the long night trek. She looked at Flynt, who lay sleeping next to her. His skin was badly reddened, like all of them, a result of the first day's foray in to The Red Desert. The first day. Her mind drifted back. That was the worst. They had left the Dragon's Spine in mid morning, and, after a brief discussion, decided to start into the desert. They trekked through the day and most of the night, trying to cover as much distance as possible. She and Flynt had taken to the air, a fortunate move as they had spotted a small sandstorm later in the day, which the travelers were able to avoid. But their vigilance had come with a price. Their gargoyle skin was still adapting to daylight and prolonged exposure under the fury of the desert sun had taken its toll on the pair. Flynt was especially affected. With a loincloth as his only protection, his light colored skin burnt rapidly, even blistering in places. Kahreen looked at the reddened skin on her arms. She had not suffered as badly, her darker coloring offering a little more protection. Still she gave a little hiss as she ran a hand over her arm, the sensitive nerves sending little messages of pain to her brain.

"Damn," she muttered, half wishing she was still a biomech. The desert wouldn't be any problem to her then. But she wasn't a biomech any longer. She was organic and she just had to deal with that as best she could. She looked over to her sleeping companions once again, wondering how organic life forms could go through life without worrying about constant injury or hurt. Silently she wondered if they would make it. Each day that passed found them weaker, and Lias' original five day estimate was based on a fully supplied and healthy party. She knew by their condition that it would take longer. Sighing she closed her eyes. Might as well get some rest while she could. Another long trek was expected tonight.

Huron watched from beneath lidded eyes as Kahreen settled down and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, and satisfied everyone was asleep, the big warrior reached beneath his chest armor, slowly pulling out a small skin bottle full of water he had kept hidden from the others. After another quick glance to make sure he wasn't being observed he took a long swig, recapping it with a smile.

*****

*3*

Caleich lounged on the high backed throne, one black fingernail casually tracing the intricate golden patterns on the armrest. Within a day after the routing of the Elven army, the Overlord's forces swept away all resistance before them. Now the capital, Andalor, had fallen and Caleich had taken the palace as her command center. She looked down the expansive throne room. A row of armored guards lined either side of the room, and before her, flanked by more guards stood Eldrik, the Elven High King. He glared at Caleich with hate filled eyes. 

"Now, now," Caleich said. "Don't look so glum. I could have leveled your precious city, though I do like this palace. I also could have slaughtered everyone. It could have been worse. Far worse." She smiled. "I could have had you fed to Greyfell here." Seated next to the throne, a young black dragon, only fifteen feet from snout to tail, raised his head in anticipation.

"The flight to bring the message was a long one, I am hungry," the dragon spoke aloud, mainly for Eldrik's benefit as it cast its hungry eyes upon him.

"Why not go for a little hunt," Caleich suggested with a smile. "I'm sure you'll find a tasty morsel. After all whats an Elf or two?"

"No!" Eldrik exclaimed in horror. "You can't!"

Ignoring the High King's plea the dragon rose and shook himself lightly. He made his way to a large, arched open window. He looked back at Caleich.

"By your leave?" the beast asked.

The dark haired woman nodded. "Of course."

Within moments the dragon was gone. Eldrik turned his attention to Caleich.

"Demon spawn!" he hissed angrily.

"Demon spawn?" Caleich laughed. "No, not quite."

"Who are you and why do you attack us?" He demanded.

"Don't you know?" Caleich teased. "There are those who want back what is rightfully theirs. The Ancients have returned Elf, and this time we shall finish what should have been done ten millennia ago."

Realization dawned in Eldrik's eyes. "The prophecy!" he breathed.

"Very good! Your time is over. A time you should never have had."

"The prophecy also speak of the Guardians," Eldrik stated defiantly. "They also shall return."

Caleich laughed. "We know of your precious Guardians. And are ready for them." She stepped down from the dais and faced the Elf. " The only reason your blood is not staining the earth is because Sarmak wishes to see you. He is on his way as we speak."

"Sarmak?"

"Your new lord and master."

"I'll bow down to no man!" Eldrik growled.

"Good," Caleich replied. She gripped the Elf's chin, bringing his face level with her own. Her orange eyes glinted wickedly. "Because Sarmak is no man. He owns you now. Get used to it."

*****

Amethyst stumbled slightly. Lias moved quickly to her side, offering his sister assistance. Though they had been travelling only three hours since sunset, and the heat of the day was long gone, the group was already tiring. With a heavy sigh Flynt raised his hand.

"I suggest we take a break for a few minutes."

There were nods of approval all around as the travelers wearily sat down on the sand. Flynt looked at each of their faces. All were tired and sun burnt. He turned his attention to Kahreen.

"How are you holding out?"

Kahreen nodded. "I'm okay. You?"

"I'll live... I hope," Flynt gave a weak smile and rested his head in his arms. His back felt like it was on fire, a thousand hot needles probing under his flesh. The pain made gliding impossible, not that it mattered anyway. As the situation stood it was best they all stay together. He raised his head and looked at Lias.

"How much farther do you think?"

The ranger looked at the sky. "Three days, maybe four." He replied with a frown.

Four days. It might as well be forever. Flynt looked at Galen. He looked haggard. Flynt was worried old mage might be the first to drop.

"Have a drink mage, no one will begrudge you for that."

Galen shook his head. "No. Water is short and we will need it later. I'll be fine."

"Aye," Mirran said. "Besides once we get to Tozer's Cove we can quench out thirst on some long tankards of ale. That will get the sand out of our throats!" Mirran's cheerfulness, though forced, managed to bring a smile to their faces. She could find the right thing to say, no matter how bleak things were.

"Well we aren't getting any closer by sitting here," Lias said as he rose with a groan. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can have that ale."

The group got to their feet and began the long march again. All except Huron, who stood looking to the east.

"What is it?" Lias asked.

"Nothing," Huron said, with uncertainty. "The night sky playing tricks on my eyes." Kahreen joined the pair and looked at the eastern horizon.

"That's no trick," she said. "I'd wager those are camp fires."

Lias nodded in agreement. "I believe you're right."

"Campfires?" Flynt asked. "Who else would be out here in the middle of the desert? Apart from lunatics like us."

Lias appeared thoughtful. "The Sabra, possibly."

"What are the Sabra?" Kahreen inquired.

"Desert dwellers, nomads. I don't much about them, I have never met any."

"I have," Galen said. "Some are traders, I've seen them in towns selling their wares. Others...well some are brigands, looking to rob unwary travelers crossing in the desert."

"So which do we have here?" Lias mused.

"There's only one way to find out," Flynt answered. "Kah and I will go and check it out. They can't be more than an hour's glide away." Flynt opened his wings, stiffening suddenly with a yelp as a wave of pain shot through him.

"You're in no condition to glide anywhere." Kahreen said. "Looks like you'll be sitting this one out."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Flynt replied forlornly.

"I'll do a quick sweep," Kahreen said, "and come straight back. See what's there."

"Alright," Flynt nodded. "The rest of us will make our way slowly towards the camp. Be careful, well meet up with you shortly."

The group watched as Kahreen took a running start. She leapt into the air, snapping her wings open, wobbling slightly as she sought to gain altitude. Two powerful downstrokes filled her wings with air, and within moments she was gliding above their heads. She circled once before heading into the direction of the campfire. Flynt watched her form disappear into the night.

"Good luck."

*****

*4*

"You have done well Caleich," Sarmak said. The Angel Overlord had arrived in Andalor only minutes ago, and now the pair walked down the main corridor of the castle. "I hear you treated the Elven forces to your own unique display of power."

Caleich gave a malicious little smile. "Nothing but the best for my Elf 'friends'." The pair rounded a corner and began to ascend a flight of stairs. "And speaking of which, I believe there is one Elf in particular who is eager to meet you."

The pair stopped by a large door, guarded by two burly soldiers. They bowed slightly and at Sarmak's command, opened the door. Within was a large room lined with books, this was the king's library. A guard stood on the inside of the door, and seated in the center of the room was Eldrik. The Elf looked up as the pair entered the room.

"High King Eldrik, or should I say former High King Eldrik," Sarmak said with a smile. "Well met."

"So you are responsible for all this," Eldrik replied. "What is it you want?"

"From you nothing, except your full co operation."

Eldrik laughed. "Never! You invade our lands and butcher my people. I will never co operate with brigands like you."

"Watch your mouth Elf," Caliech advanced menacingly, "Unless you wish to lose your tongue."

Sarmak raised his hand. "Enough Caleich, his reaction comes as no surprise." Sarmak walked over to a small table on which rested a silver wine jug and some goblets. He poured himself a cup of wine before facing the Elven king once again.

"You will co operate. Soon you will announce to your people of the glorious alliance we have agreed upon, and that your people will assist mine in every way. In fact you will order a celebration in honour of this great event."

"You must be insane, if you think I will agree to this."

The angel said nothing, but drew his dagger. He pricked the end of his finger and allowed a drop of his blood to fall into the goblet of wine. With a smile he swirled the fluid gently as Caleich looked on.

"A whole pure drop? Just for him?"

"I want to be sure of his total compliance." Sarmak answered. He patted a small glass bottle that hung from his belt. "I have enough potion here to deal with the rest." He walked towards the Elf.

"Drink this," Sarmak ordered.

"Never!" Eldrik clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.

Sarmak motioned the guard over. "Hold him still."

The guard grabbed the Elf by the shoulders, forcing him firmly into the seat. Still Eldrik shook his head from side to side, making it impossible for Sarmak to administer the wine. With a snarl Caleich grabbed Eldrik by the hair, pulling his head back. Her free hand forced his mouth open as Sarmak poured the wine into it. Some of it spilt around the Elf's face, but most went down his throat. Eldrik convulsed for a second, then relaxed visibly.

"It is done," Sarmak said. Caleich and the guard released the Elf, who sat passively in his seat. Sarmak looked at the High King.

"So Eldrik, come the morning you will announce to your people the making of an alliance between you and I."

"Yes my lord," the Elf's voice, proud and regal only moments before, was now soft and compliant.

"Good. I will have something suitable written up for you. For now you should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be busy for you."

"Yes, I should sleep," Eldrik rose and made his way to the door. Sarmak indicated the guard to go with him. "Escort the Elf to his chamber's and remain there," he ordered.

The guard bowed and followed Eldrik out the door. As they left, Caleich turned to the Angel angrily.

"You said the Elves would be mine to deal with! Now you plan on making them your slaves by tainting the water supplies and wells with your potions!"

"They will be yours in time Caleich. For now we have a use for them. When that is over, you can do with them what you wish. I will even nullify the effects of the potion on them so they aren't deprived the full effect of your 'tender mercies'."

Caleich smiled, satisfied with the deal. "So now we move against Thorngrimm."

"No."

"No?"

"I have given the matter some thought," Sarmak explained. Thorngrimm's lands are harsh and his mountain fortress formidable. Even for our troops. We could be drawn into a long siege and even then there is a chance he could still get supplies through. If we commit to a siege, chances are we could face attack from another quarter. Something I am not prepared to let happen."

"What do we do then?" Caleich asked.

"We continue to take over the surrounding areas. Effectively isolate Thorngrimm's kingdom. Then we can concentrate fully on his downfall."

"A good plan."

Sarmak sat down. "I must feed. It has been too long."

Caleich nodded. "I have just what you need." She spoke to one of the guards at the door. The guard left, returning several minutes later, a chained Elf warrior in tow.

Sarmak rose to his feet and approached the prisoner. "Young and strong. Very good," he placed his hands on the Elf's brow. The prisoner struggled briefly, then stiffened. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. In front of Caleich's eyes the Elf began to shrivel from the inside out, as his life force was drained form him. Within moments, Sarmak released his grip, dropping the lifeless husk to the floor.

"Much better," he smiled. "Now, to matters still at hand. We have the issue of the Guardians... I have received no word on them for the past few days."

"I could send extra scouts to the southern continent," Caleich suggested.

"No, not just yet. They will show themselves soon enough. They cannot hide forever."

*****

*5*

"Hmmm it looks quiet enough," Kahreen did a second fly by of the unknown campsite. She stayed high, out of the glow of the fires. She could see a few figures moving about, though she couldn't make them out clearly. There were several large tents set in a semi circle around a three wagons. Beasts of burden Kahreen didn't recognize were tied to the wagons. The camp didn't look like a bandit camp, more like a caravan of some sort. Satisfied she had learnt all she could, she banked and changed direction, heading back out to the desert.

Flynt watched as the campfires flickered on the horizon. The group had covered a good distance since Kahreen had left. They were close enough now that the decision was made to sit and wait out the time until Kahreen returned. Flynt turned his attention to the sky, awaiting her arrival.

"We're taking a risk here," Lias said. "If this camp belongs to bandits, we might be in over our heads."

"I know," Flynt nodded on agreement. "In our current state though, I don't see us having much choice."

"At the mercy of the desert or brigands," Huron muttered. "Great choice."

Lias noticed a movement in the night sky. "Up there! Kahreen?"

Flynt looked up and saw the figure draw closer. "Yes it's her!"

Kahreen glided in, landing a few paces away from her companions. She bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she took several deep breaths. The short flight, in her current condition, had taken a lot out of her. After several moments she straightened, and looked at the expectant faces surrounding her.

"We may be in luck," Kahreen said, her breathing still slightly heavy. Lias offered her his waterskin. Kahreen took a grateful sip, before returning it with a nod of thanks. "I'm not totally sure, but it doesn't look like a bandit's camp. More like a caravan of sorts."

"If that is the case," Galen replied, "we may be able to travel with them. Or at the very least, stay until we regain some of our strength."

"Assuming they are willing to help us," Lias mused.

"We still have to make contact," Flynt said. "Any suggestions? Somehow just wandering in and saying 'Hello, we've been lost for a couple days, can you help us?' doesn't exactly sound like the best idea."

"Perhaps not," Kahreen agreed, "but we aren't overflowing with options here. In this case the direct approach might be the best."

Lias looked at the fires in the distance. "We are close enough now. I'll scout ahead as we get closer. If there is any sign of danger, or if the camp is a bandit camp, I'll get back in plenty of time to warn you."

"Alone?" Flynt asked. "You don't want some to go with you; in case you run into trouble?"

"No," the Elven ranger answered. "There is less chance of detection if I go alone." He checked the string in his longbow, before hanging the weapon across his shoulder. Amethyst approached him, and gave the Elf a hug.

"Be careful my brother."

Lias gave a smile. "Always." He turned to the group. "Give me ten minutes, and then follow. That should give us enough breathing space."

"All right," Flynt responded. "Good luck."

Lias nodded and headed off at a slow jog towards the campsite, disappearing quickly into the night.

*****

*6*

Though the city seemed at peace, it was facade. A strict curfew had been imposed and no one was permitted on the streets of Andalor after sundown. The Overlord's soldiers patrolled the city, and now and then, the occasional sillouhette of a dragon could be seen flying in the night sky. Sarmak gazed from the palace balcony, impressed by the golden spires and stone buildings that made up Andalor.

"The architecture really is quite stunning. Imagine; after ten centuries, these creatures have progressed from mud huts to this. I can see why it appeals to you so, Caleich."

The dark haired woman admired the view. "I must remember to keep the masons and builders in a reasonable condition so they can continue this fine work for me. At least the Elves are good for one thing."

"They have other uses," came a voice from behind the pair. Greyfell lay at the balcony's entrance. His hunger sated, the young black dragon was resting, watching his mistress and the Angel through half lidded eyes.

"There will be enough to go around," Caleich said smiling. "For everyone's needs." She turned towards Sarmak. "What of Eldrik's speech, is it done?"

Sarmak nodded and handed over the piece of parchment he held in his hand. Caleich read it once, before handing it back. "You really are quite the statesman. I almost believe these words myself. But will the Elves, when Eldrik reads it on the morrow?"

"It doesn't really matter." Sarmak replied. "Even now my men are adding the potion to the water supplies and wells. By tomorrow night all the Elves will be under our control. Those who are not, will be after the celebration Eldrik will be kindly hosting to honour the new 'alliance'. The wine and water barrels for that have already been prepared."

"But why the subterfuge?" Caleich asked. "We can take what we want. These fools will do our bidding, whether by force or by sorcery."

"The Elves are highly respected," Sarmak explained. "Having Eldrik support an 'alliance' will cast doubts among the other rulers and throw them off balance. We now have a firm foothold in these lands. All the eastern provinces are under our control and I will not make the same mistake my ancestors did. They were too arrogant, too sure of themselves. They hid away in their mountain homes and when they finally did act, it was too late. My ancestors should have stopped the lesser races before they had chance to multiply and swarm over Kithan like a pestilence," he turned and looked over the city once again.

"It was the Guardians who hindered your ancestors," Caleich replied. "What did they see in these creatures anyway? Perhaps they viewed them like... pets?"

"Perhaps they did, who knows," Sarmak replied. "But this time the Guardians will not be a hindrance. There will be no hiding; my people's presence will be felt over all of Kithan. As it was meant to be."

*****

"This can't be right," Flynt muttered. "We should have heard from Lias by now." Flynt lay on his belly upon the crest of the sand dune, Kahreen and Huron on either side of him. Ahead of them, approximately a mile in the distance, they could make out a group of tents, illuminated by the light of campfires.

"It's possible he might have been caught," Kahreen suggested.

"I don't think so," Huron said, for once not grumbling about the situation. He eyed the camp intently. "It's too quiet. If they had caught someone wandering near their camp, there would surely be more activity, sentries patrolling the area. They would be on the alert."

Flynt sighed. "Perhaps." He turned, sitting up and looking at the remaining members of the group, gathered at the base of the dune. "There's no sign of Lias, not anywhere."

"What now then?" Galen asked, as the three warriors made their way down the dune.

Well, we can't just sit here and do nothing," Kahreen said.

"That's exactly what we'll do, "Flynt replied. "Give Lias a little more time. It's possible we may have passed each other in the darkness." He gave a worried frown.

"My brother is an able tracker," Amethyst said. "If we indeed did miss each other. He will soon realise this, and be able to find our tracks."

Flynt nodded. "I don't doubt Lias' abilities, but we don't know what we're up against here. I hope he is all right."

Amethyst turned sharply. "There are eyes upon us!"

"Where?" Kahreen twirled, her hand grasping the hilt of her sword. Moments later, two mounted figures rode out of the darkness.

The riders were human, attired in a loose fitting pale shirts and pants. Armour was in the form of a hardened leather breastplate and helmet. Weapons drawn, they advanced quickly towards the adventurers.

"Do not move," the first figure ordered. His dark eyes regarded the intruders as he leveled his crossbow at them, "and no harm will come to you."

One of the creatures the men rode gave a low growl, as if to emphasize the point. It was the creatures, rather than the rider's warning, that held the adventurers in check.

Sandy in color with tiger-like stripes, the mounts were tall, bipedal, reptilian beasts. Long narrow snouts sniffed the air as they took in the scent of the intruders. Arms, long and well muscled, ended with hands comprising of three fingers, each tipped with a long curving claw. A long stiff tail provided the perfect counterbalance for their bodies, as they stood upon their powerfully muscled hind legs, rocking slightly. The most fascinating feature of these creatures was their feet. The second toe of each hind foot was kicked back, revealing a deadly curved claw, the length of a man's forearm.

This impressive weaponry, combined with their sleek, well muscled look, left no doubt that these were swift, and very deadly, predators.

"We come in peace," Galen said. "We are travelers who have lost our way. We saw the lights of your fires and..."

The rider who first spoke raised his hand, silencing the mage. "We shall see."

Taking a small object that hung around his neck by a thin cord, the rider brought it to his lips and blew into it twice. Though it apparently made no sound, both reptiles reacted the rider's actions, cocking their heads slightly. Several moments passed and two more riders approached out of the darkness.

"Thank the gods we found you," came a familiar voice. As the newcomers halted, Lias climbed down from behind one of the riders. "I feared we may have passed you in the darkness. You made better time than I thought."

A collective look of relief washed over the travelers faces at the sight of the ranger. Lias joined his companions as the four riders positioned themselves around the little group, two towards the front and two at the rear.

"You will come with us now," the rider who originally spoke to them said. Slowly, and under the watchful eyes of their escort, the adventurers began the short trip to the camp.

"None to friendly, are they?" Flynt muttered. He looked over at Lias. "How did you convince them to help?"

The Elf looked down, slightly embarrassed. "They jumped me. Near the spot you met them. I never heard them coming until I was face to face with them."

"It was dark," Kahreen said. "They obviously hid their sentries well. We never knew they were there either. And I didn't see any from the air."

"It's not your fault," Flynt told the ranger. "They know the area and we don't. Anyway, you made contact, and that's what we were aiming for."

Lias nodded in agreement before continuing. "They took me into the camp. I was brought before their leader, their Hetman. I told him of what had befallen us, though I think he was skeptical of my story. Eventually he decided to send some warriors out."

By this time the group had entered the camp and halted. The riders dismounted, two of them heading towards a large tent at the camp's center, while the remaining two kept an eye on the group.

"That is the Hetman's tent," Lias explained. Several minutes passed and finally one of the warriors reappeared.

"Baru-Shamir will see you now."

******

*7*

A large fire burned in the hearth, casting its warmth through out the room, in sharp contrast to the chill wind and snow, which blew hard against the tightly closed window shutters. It was a busy night in the tavern, as it was most nights. To the patrons, those who lived, and made their living on the snow swept tundra, the weather outside was nothing unusual. It was a harsh and dangerous land, but the inhabitants knew it well, and treated it with the respect it deserved.

A young woman was seated at a table near the fire, her sword, and heavy, fur lined jacket lying on the seat next to her. Like many others, she had removed the bulky garment in favor of the welcoming warmth of the tavern. She gave a little smile as she ate her meal, her blue eyes watching the antics of some fellow patrons. A few warmed ales on a night like this always provided some entertainment. She cut herself another generous portion of steak. It had been a good week. She had acquired quite a bit of merchandise. In the morning she would take her ice skimmer and begin the five day journey to Trader's Town. A long journey over the frozen land, but one she had done many times before. The route was well known and many small shelters had been set along its way up over the years in case of emergency.

The door to the tavern opened, amid several shouts of protest, as some of the chill wind entered the room. The figure at the door shut it quickly, and stood there, stamping his feet and rubbing his gloved hands together.

"It's not a fit night for man nor beast out there!"

He removed his gloves as he approached the bar. "Otis! A mug of your finest! And make it fast, before my insides become as frozen as the ground outside!"

The barkeep uncorked a large clay bottle, pouring the contents into a mug. The new arrival drank deeply, before placing the mug on the counter with a satisfied sigh. He turned, spotting the young woman. Taking his mug, he ambled over towards her. He took the seat opposite her, as the woman looked up with a smile.

"Jobe! You’re late! We were expecting you long before now!"

"Aye Selene," Jobe replied. "I was forced to take shelter fo' a few hours. Damn blizzard near tore the mast clean off my skimmer! Otherwise the journey was uneventful. I got a good price fo' my skins at Traders Town. The market is on the rise."

Selene grinned. "Good! Now you can repay me those two pieces of silver you owe me."

Jobe made a face as he dug into his pocket, producing two silver pieces, which he dropped into Selene's palm.

"Talon and I will be heading out to Traders Town in the morning," Selene continued. At her feet a large figure stirred, rising to a sitting position. The tawny, sabertooth lion cocked his head at the sound of his name. Jobe looked at the large tan head and the yellow eyes that regarded him quietly.

"So there you are you long toothed critter," Jobe said with a laugh. "Looking fit an' healthy as always."

Talon gave a little snort and looked from Jobe towards his mistress. If the look on the big cat's face could be given a human equation, it would have been one of smugness. Selene scratched Talon's head affectionately.

Jobe sighed. "I'd be lucky to find a cat as good as yours, Selene. It's been hard enough finding a replacement for ol' Irontooth." He sighed again deeply and stared sadly into his mug. His own cat, Irontooth had been killed in a hunt 3 months before.

"You'll find another," Selene said. "I don't think you'll find another like Talon though."

Talon was no ordinary sabertooth. Selene had bought him soon after arriving on the Tundra, 5 years ago. Even as a six month old cub, Talon was large for his breed. The trader Selene bought him from claimed Talon was from mixed bloodlines. His sire was in fact one of the huge lions from the tropical islands that dotted the Talorian Ocean. Indeed Talon seemed to have inherited the best traits from both breeds. Powerfully muscled, with a large head and long lethal canines, typical of the sabertooth, Talon was also half as big again as any sabertooth on the tundra. He was a large and formidable creature, and Selene's best friend.

A number of the inhabitants of the tundra owned the long toothed cats. Aside from loyal companions, they proved to be a valuable asset for the line of work Selene, Jobe and many of the others engaged in. They were hunters. Mammoth hunters. The great, wooly elephants lived in large herds, often numbering in there thousands, feeding upon the giant, snow pine forests that grew within the tundra. Their hides and tusks were in great demand throughout the lands. It was a profitable, if dangerous business. The hunters made frequent trips to Traders Town, selling the hides and ivory for gold, silver and essentials needed to survive in the harsh environment.

"You said you were going to Trader's Town on the morrow?" Jobe asked.

Selene nodded in acknowledgement.

Jobe's face grew serious. "I heard some disturbing rumors an' strange tales while there. Stories of war an' strange happenings."

Selene raised an eyebrow in doubt. "War?"

Jobe nodded. "Aye. A dark army from the east. The latest is that the Elves have fallen an' Andalor is in the hands of this army," he shuddered. "There was even stories of dragons."

"Dragons?" Selene asked. "Oh come now Jobe! There are no dragons, and haven't been for centuries! You know better than to listen to rumors. Most of them are just tall tales.

"I know. I just have a bad feeling about this one."

"Even if there was a war," Selene continued. "Who would be insane enough send an army here? The only people who come here are those who don't want to be found; or those who want to forget."

"Your right Selene," Jobe rose to his feet. "Just another tale started by someone with nothing better to do. Anyway, it's good t' see you again, good luck with your trip tomorrow."

Selene watched as Jobe wandered back to the bar. She frowned slightly as she thought of the rumors. Andalor fallen? Her mind went back to half a decade ago, to happier times she had spent in the Elven Lands. She found herself thinking of a certain young Elven captain. If the stories were true, was he still alive?

Talon gave a small purr and nudged his mistress's hand. Selene snapped out of her reverie and gave the lion a pat.

"Rumors or truth, my friend." She mused. "I wonder which?"

*****

*8*

Hetman Baru-Shamir sat back on his cushions and regarded the group of travelers, in particular the two winged beings, before him. Baru-Shamir was not a large man, slightly overweight, but even so, the air of authority he carried about him left no doubt he was the leader of this group of desert travelers. He looked at the group once again with his dark piercing eyes. Galen had just finished relating the events leading up to the group's appearance at the Sabra's camp.

"Your words have a ring of truth about them, mage," the Hetman said. "And I cannot deny what my eyes see." He looked at Kahreen and Flynt. "My people too have tales that speak of the Winged Ones. The Ancients. Those who would return; when darkness threatened the land. I remember them from my childhood. Until now I only thought of them as children's stories. Legends."

"Most legends have a grain of truth to them, " Galen replied.

"Indeed so," Baru-Shamir responded. "I would ask that you forgive our initial cautiousness. My men and their Wiverns are forever on the lookout. With bandits about in these lands, it is all to easy for an unwary caravan to be plundered."

"No apology is necessary," Galen responded. "It is we who should be grateful, that you allow us shelter."

"Wiverns?" Lias asked. "The large reptiles?"

The dark skinned Hetman nodded. "Many generations ago the Sabra tamed the wild Wiverns, and since that time, they have become apart of our way of life. We use them as mounts and as guards. They are very adept at deterring potential raiders, and the predators that roam the desert."

"I was beginning to think we were the only living things out there," Flynt said. "We've seen no life at all. Well, apart from your camp."

"Ah, but the desert is full of life," the Hetman responded, smiling lightly. "If you know where to look. Oases brimming with life. Trees and bushes bearing succulent fruits, and flowers with rare and beautiful aromas."

"That sounds much better," Kahreen said. "All we saw was sand."

"It is from these plants I make my living. My people create spices, fragrances and essences, which we sell and trade in the markets. But, enough talk for now..." Baru-Shamir rose to his feet and clapped his hands twice. Moment’s later two women entered the tent, carrying large bowls of fruit, which they placed before the group.

"You look like you have not eaten in days," the Hetman said. He pointed towards the bowls. "Please. Eat."

The adventurers didn't need any prompting. In their eyes, this was a veritable feast. They ate the succulent fruits, feeling the pleasure of a full belly once again. As they ate, Baru-Shamir nodded approvingly. He turned his attention to Galen once again.

"These... Angels, you speak of. Are you sure they have appeared?"

The old mage nodded. "Almost certainly. That's why the Guardians have returned."

Flynt shifted uncomfortably at Galen's words. "You know Galen, how can we be sure of these Angels and the Temples of Light. I mean for certain?

"We can't," the mage replied. "Not absolutely, not yet. My instincts tell me that sooner or later, they will make their presence known. Then there'll be no doubt. The Temples and the Angels are connected somehow, that much I am certain of."

Flynt said nothing, but just sat, staring at the fruit in his hand.

"The Temples of Light?" Baru-Shamir sounded surprised. "I have had minor dealings with their priests. They certainly did not appear to be a threat of any kind," the Hetman shrugged. "But then again, who really knows what goes on behind the closed doors of the temple?"

Amethyst nodded. "Their benign appearance is a sham. They feed from the same darkness as the Angels."

Baru-Shamir's face became serious. "My people are a proud race and we have lived our lives the same way for many, many generations. I would hate to see that come undone. I will assist you, in whatever small way I can. You require passage to Tozer's Cove? Then please, I would consider it an honour if you would accompany my caravan."

Galen smiled. "We accept your invitation, with much gratitude."

"Then it is done!" The Hetman rose to his feet, followed by the adventurers. "Come. I have arranged accommodation for you, and a salve that will ease the sunburn from your skin. My captain shall show you to your quarters. Rest well my friends," Baru-Shamir gave the travelers a small bow, which was returned in kind. "We leave at sunrise."

*****

*9*

Flynt looked about the interior of the tent, and the pile of cushions and blankets that was to serve as a bed for the night. Kahreen had stepped out momentarily to fetch a jug of water from the Sabra supply wagon. The Sabra had erected three tents for the group. Galen, Lias and Huron took one, Amethyst and Mirran the next, leaving the last for Kahreen and Flynt. An oil lamp stood on a small table and also, as promised, in each tent was a bowl containing a white ointment which the Sabra used to relieve sunburn. Kahreen had already used the lotion on her arms to good effect.

Flynt scooped up the ointment in a taloned hand and gave it an experimental sniff. It had a pleasant fragrance. He applied it to his arms, and almost instantly could feel the pain ebb away with a cooling sensation. Pleased with the result, he applied more to his arms and shoulders, smiling with relief as the burning feeling faded away.

He scooped a little more lotion into his hand and attempted to apply it to his back. There was a spot right between his wings that was exceptionally painful. He found to his annoyance he could not reach it. He bent and twisted, hopping around the tent, growling in frustration, trying to reach over and underneath his wings, but to now avail.

"If that's some sort of new dance," Kahreen's voice came from the tent's entrance. "It's not the best I've seen."

Flynt stopped his acrobatics and rubbed the lotion off his hands. "There's a spot on my back I can't get to," he grumbled. "I'll just have to put up with it."

Kahreen set the pitcher of water down. "Before, in the Hetman's tent, you questioned Galen about Angels. Don't you think they're real?"

Flynt frowned. "I wish they weren't, but I get this feeling, Angels or whatever they are, maybe all to real." He sat down on the cushions. "It wasn't so much disbelief. Do you get the feeling things are going out of control? Like we are swept up in stream; the current is too strong to fight against and all we can do is follow it and see where it leads."

"Yeah," Kahreen said. "I do. But I also think it's for a reason. I don't know the hows or why. But I'm starting to feel like we are meant to be here. Maybe it wasn't an accident after all."

"Maybe," Flynt stared at the floor, thinking.

"Roll over." Kahreen said.

Flynt looked up. "What?" Kahreen stood in front of him, holding the bowl of ointment.

"Roll over, I'll fix your back up for you."

Flynt smiled. "Thanks." He rolled over onto his stomach. Kahreen sat next to him, and began to apply the lotion to his sunburned back. Flynt groaned in appreciation as the pain finally began to subside.

"Ahh," he sighed. "I like this."

"Heh, well don't get to used to it," Kahreen said with a little chuckle. "Don't expect me to nursemaid you every time you get a little injury."

"Of course not, " Flynt mumbled, his eyes half closed. "It's just going to be so good to sleep without any pain."

"Yeah, it is," Kahreen agreed. "So what do think Tozer's Cove will be like? We haven't seen anything resembling a town or city yet here." A muffled snore was her only reply. Kahreen looked over Flynt's shoulder. He was fast asleep. She gave a little smile as she stood up and placed the ointment back onto the small table. Picking up the lamp, she blew out its flame, and then settled herself comfortably on the cushions near Flynt.

"Good night", she whispered.

*********************

End of Volume One