CHAPTER 1

Somewhere in New Mexico, 1887

A bullet struck the rock next to Jacob Kreed's head, and he ducked back behind the boulders he had chosen for a shield. "Why did we agree to take this job, Nate?" he asked.
  Nathaniel Kreed sighed, as he had done numerous other times when such a question had been presented to him by his brother. "It might have been because
you wanted to protect the townspeople and the stagecoaches that use this pass from the undead outlaws that have recently begun preying upon any innocent
that wanders across their path."
  Another bullet slammed into the boulder, throwing chips of rock past Jacob's face. "That couldn't have been it," he said.
  "Then maybe it was for the money the sheriff offered on behalf of the owner of the stagecoach in return for taking care of this little problem."
  "Yeah, that's what must have done it." Jacob heard one of the guns click empty and he knew that the rest would be doing the same very soon. "It's bad enough when someone brings back ordinary folk and makes zombie out of them, but when they do it to outlaws it's just so much worse."
  "There is something to be said about a mindless creature being capable of continuing its life as a gunfighter," Nathaniel commented with a slight grin.
  "Now don't you start in on that again," Jacob said with a tone of warning as he pulled out a pair of cavalry pistols. He ran his fingers across the silver plate on the handle of each pistol, speaking in a low voice while doing it, and a faint reddish glow began in the cylinder. "Any fool might be able to pull a trigger, but it takes a good mind to be able to use a gun properly." Jacob heard another click, and he knew he had probably thirty seconds before the zombies could work out how to reload their guns. Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet and turned, pointing his guns at the trio of undead in the pass below him.
Their cadaverous faces looked up at him as their emaciated limbs fumbled with their guns in a desperate attempt to reload faster. Jacob smiled slightly as he pulled the triggers of both guns at the same time, and a pair of scarlet streaks left the barrels.
  The zombies only had a moment to realize their predicament before the streaks hit them full in the chest, and their torsos exploded in a burst of crackling crimson energy. When the smoke cleared there were only a few twitching bits lying among the loose rocks.
  "Gets 'em every time," Jacob commented with a lopsided grin.
  "That might be true, but one of them is getting away," Nathaniel replied in a chastising tone.
  Jacob looked at the third zombie, who was moving much faster than he would have thought possible for something that had recently been dead. "I guess that was a fresh one," he muttered as he holstered his pistols and picked up the Colt revolving rifle he had left leaning against a rock. Muttering a few words, he touched the silver plate on the side of the rifle, before bringing it to his shoulder.
  "You're not going to hit it from here. It's moving much too quickly even for you." Nathaniel saw that his words weren't having any effect on Jacob, so he said, "You're not as good as you think you are, Jake."
  After removing his hat and handing it to Nathaniel, Jacob looked through the sights on his rifle and aimed at the zombie. "You could be right, Nate. Maybe I'm not as good as I think I am," he commented as he gently pulled the trigger, and a flash of scarlet left the barrel, which quickly turned into a spiraling burst of crimson that streaked towards the zombie. When it struck, the burst blew off the zombie's lower body, and it collapsed into the dirt. "I guess I'm better," Jacob said before slapping Nathaniel on the shoulder.
  "I stand corrected. Now let's go and see what that thing can tell us." Nathaniel returned the hat to Jacob, and then picked up the staff he brought with him and began to walk across the top of the ridge. Behind him, he could hear Jacob chuckling quietly. "Mother always said you were incorrigible," he said to his brother.
  "And she was right," Jacob responded as he walked with the barrel of his rifle resting against his shoulder.
  After a couple minutes of walking, they reached the zombie, who was trying to drag himself away with his hands, and Jacob noticed that the zombie was making surprisingly good progress. "Maybe I should have charged that bullet a little more and took off his hands, too."
  "What you did was sufficient." Nathaniel crouched down next to the zombie. "Though, if you would be so kind as to hold it down I would greatly appreciate it."
  "It'll be my pleasure." Jacob put his foot on the center of the zombie's back and pressed down until it couldn't move forward, though it continued to claw at the dirt trying to gain purchase.
  "Thank you." Nathaniel rubbed his hands together, as he chanted in a low voice, and then he put each of his hands on either side of the zombie's head, making sure to touch its temples with at least one of the fingers of each hand.
  At first, the zombie resisted and tried to break the contact, but then it relaxed and Nathaniel was able to enter the creature's mind.
  "What are you seeing?" Jacob asked.
  Nathaniel cocked his head to the side and replied, "A mess. A chaotic jumble of mismatched images. About what one would expect from something that died and was brought back."
  "So the usual?" Jacob asked as he pressed down harder and felt bone splintering beneath the soles of his boots.
  "Yeah, Jake. The usual." Nathaniel closed his eyes tightly and began to search the zombie's memory for anything that might help them. Finally, he found something and he happily withdrew from the zombie's mind. "There is a mine that was abandoned a few years back about a mile in the direction our little friend here was crawling. That is where we will find the person who is orchestrating the attacks."
  Jacob nodded, as he took the information in, and then he spoke again. "You want me to kill it." He noticed that Nathaniel gave him an odd look. "Kill it again, that is, since it was already dead to begin with. Unless you wanted to bless it to death."
  Nathaniel got back on his feet with the help of his staff. He mentally wished that using his abilities didn't drain him as much as it did sometimes, and then he responded to Jacob's query. "He was an evil man in life, hardly better than he is now. There is no reason for me to waste my time securing his soul passage to a better world," he replied while smoothing out his poncho.
  Without a word, Jacob pulled out a flask and took a quick drink. Then he took a step back away from the zombie, splashed it with some of the alcohol, and then pulled a cheroot from his pocket. He lit the cheroot, and then flicked the lit match onto the zombie's back. The alcohol ignited almost immediately, but the zombie kept crawling through the dirt towards its destination, despite the fact what was left of its body was burning. Then he stared at the creature dragging itself across the ground until the fire had finished its work.
  "Let's go get that necromancer so we can collect our money," Nathaniel said as he headed towards where they hid their horses.
  When they reached the small cave where their horses were tethered, Jacob said, "You know, Nate, every time we burn one of those things it reminds me
of a barbecue."
  "Why am I not surprised?" Nathaniel replied as he mounted his horse and set off in the direction of the mine.
  "What's that supposed to mean?" Jacob asked as he put his rifle into the holster on his saddle, and then he swung up onto his horse. "Really, what's that supposed to mean?" he asked as he pulled up alongside Nathaniel's horse.
  "Just that you think with your stomach."
  "I don't always think with my stomach." Jacob took a drink from the canteen on his saddle, and then he spat the water out. "Too warm to drink," he muttered as he pulled out his pistol and started charging it for a spell.
  "No, you're right. I forgot you sometimes think with a lower part of your body." Nathaniel watched as Jacob fired his pistol down into the mouth of the canteen, which caused frost to immediately form on the outside.
  "Are you still mad about that señorita in Nogales?" Jacob asked before taking a drink of the chilled water.
  "Are you talking about the harlot or the priestess?" Nathaniel asked, looking at Jacob out of the corner of his eye.
  Jacob shrugged. "Either one."
  "You tend to get us into trouble when you start thinking with your lower half, Jake."
  Jacob began to share his opinion of that accusation as they made their way across the desert and towards the mine.

   A few years into the American Civil War, mysterious events began occurring and they caused the North and South to put aside their differences and unite once more to battle the common threat. However, the might of their newly united armies was not enough to combat things that were once thought to be merely myth and they were forced to rely on men and women who had unusual powers and who were just as mysterious as the creatures that they were fighting. These people were viewed as a necessary evil and they came to be called Spellslingers. Most were little better than mercenaries and bounty hunters, but no one could argue with their effectiveness when it came to dealing with things beyond the comprehension of mere mortals.
   Over two decades after the end of the Civil War, a pair of Slingers named Jacob and Nathaniel Kreed are made unwilling participants in a plot that has the potential to bring about the end of humanity. Together with a mercenary and a female Slinger, and armed with only their weapons and their special abilities, they travel the southern United States and part of Central America in search of answers and a way to save a world filled with people who hate and fear them. They all know that whether they win or lose, nothing will ever be the same.

   After hitching a ride on a few other vehicles over the course of an hour, Jobe reached the center of the city, where run-down buildings were replaced by gleaming towers of metal, plastic, and glass. The newest designs were evident in these marvels of modern architecture and engineering that reflected a desire to reach up towards the sky. Aside from a change in buildings, there were also shining new cars rolling past on well maintained roadways, as they were driven around by people in expensive apparel who had most likely never set foot in the sections of the city beyond the point where the quality of buildings began to degrade. Jobe saw a great many people in nice clothes crossing the streets, as functioning traffic lights kept cars from running down the pedestrians, and he shook his head as he thought about how much money must have been spent on that section of the city alone that could have went towards helping those in the surrounding areas who were barely making enough to survive in the veritable urban wastelands that lay all around, and yet conveniently out of sight of the city's denizens.
   The truck Jobe was hiding on stopped at a light, so he leapt off and went down an alleyway before he was seen. He quickly removed his bandanna and hid it inside one of his pockets, tied back his long hair, and then he reversed his jacket again so that he would look more presentable. A few minutes later, a group of people walked past, totally oblivious to the fact they were being watched from the alleyway, and then Jobe stepped out of the darkness and joined the group of people as they walked down the sidewalk. He made sure to keep his head down and his face hidden from the many cameras he knew were mounted on every signpost, streetlight, and attached to the corners of nearly every building he passed. Another group of people passed next to the first and Jobe broke off from the first group to join this new group of people as they walked in the general direction he wanted to go.
   Eventually, he reached the building he sought and went around to the back, where he knew there should be less security. He was pleased to find that his guess was right, and all that protected the back entrance into the building was an access code on the door, which Jobe circumvented with ease. Then with a quick glance to see if he was being watched, he picked up some empty boxes someone had left lying in the alleyway and entered the building. Down the long hallway he went, pretending to be a delivery person, until he reached a directory for the building, and then he looked for the name Douglas, Jamison. He found that this man's office was on the twentieth floor, and so he found the nearest stairwell and used it.
   His ascent was quick and Jobe felt no fatigue by the time he reached the twentieth floor. Once he reached the door he wanted, he pressed his ear against it and listened for the sounds of people, but he didn't hear anyone, so he opened the door leading out of the stairwells and quickly stepped out into the halls of the twentieth floor. He made sure to keep his face hidden from the view of the cameras with the empty boxes, as he walked across the hallway and entered the first office he came to.
   "Cameras appear to scan the hallway from each side," he thought as he watched the cameras move back and forth. From the shelter of the doorway he timed them and saw that all the cameras were turned completely away from the office he was hiding in for no more than three seconds at the most. So he closed the door before going farther into the office and sitting down in front of the computer used by whomever the office belonged to.
   "Let me see what I can do about those cameras," Jobe said to himself, as he bypassed the security programs on the computer and accessed the lawyer's files. The first thing he took notice of was that he knew some of the people on the lawyer's list of clients, and many of them were deserving of prison terms that this lawyer was trying to get them out of. Some of them were being put on trial very soon for environmental crimes, and so Jobe tracked down information about the accounts they were using to pay for a lawyer and transferred the balances of these accounts into funds for helping the poor and homeless in various ways including housing, clothing, and feeding.
   "Now let them try to hire a lawyer who can get them acquitted," Jobe said with a satisfied tone, as he returned to his original purpose and hacked into the main computer system of the building. He searched until he found the programs that controlled the security systems on the twentieth floor and accessed them. With skillful adjustments to the programs, he made the security measures run a maintenance cycle on themselves that he figured would give him five minutes at the most of freedom to do as he wished. Then he turned off the computer without shutting it down properly, so that it would run a system check before anyone else could use it, which would make sure his tampering wasn't noticed for a short while.
   He then stood up and went to the door to see if the cameras were still running, and he found that they were currently in a stationary position and the green lights that were on when they were recording were off for the moment. Quickly, he went down the hall and found the office of Jamison Douglas, but the door was locked. The lock was the same kind that was on the back entrance, and Jobe had little trouble disabling it long enough to allow him entry into the office.
   He pushed the door open and slipped through into the dark office. Knowing he had only a few minutes to do what he came to do, he turned on the computer and searched through a filing cabinet as it booted up. The search through the filing cabinet only told him that this lawyer worked for many wealthy people who had dealt with the firm of Wesley, Windham, and Pryce for years. He found much the same thing on the computer, and so he decided to search for anything involving missing family members. This brought up a list of clients who had relatives disappear mysteriously over the last few years, and names of other people who had the same thing happen to their friends and family, some of whom were middle class or lower. He noticed that these names matched up to the ones on the list he was sent with the HPD, and he decided to try to find out more about them, but before he could search further, he heard heavy boots moving down the hallway and he knew that the GSD had come for him, and this time with larger numbers.
   "I knew this was too easy," he muttered, as he exited the files and shut down the computer. The sounds of heavy boots got closer and Jobe realized that the door he came in through was the only way in or out of the office other than the thick windows behind him, which he knew were only there for aesthetic purposes and were not designed to be opened. He glanced out the window to see if breaking it and exiting that way was an option, but it looked to be a straight drop to the streets below, so he knew that idea wasn‘t feasible. As the sounds of weapons being loaded echoed through the hallways, he got a feeling much like that an animal gets when it is trapped, but then he felt a small amount of air blowing down on him, and he noticed that there was a vent about a meter above his head.
   Quickly, he climbed up onto the edge of the desk and popped the cover off of the vent with one of his tools. Then with amazing speed, he pulled himself up into the ducts and had the cover back over the vent just seconds before the door was kicked open. He gave silent thanks that the ducts had been reinforced to allow cleaning robots to traverse their length without running the risk of the robots' weight causing any damage.
   Looking down through the vent at the officers, he wondered what kind of weapons his pursuers were carrying this time, but his survival instincts told him to escape while he had time and opportunity, and so moving as fast as he could, Jobe slid through the ductwork for many meters until he reached a wall, which he could hear machinery moving behind. Looking through the vent, he saw that there was an elevator shaft beyond. Without hesitation, he knocked the vent outwards and stuck his head out. He saw an elevator coming up and he slid out of the hole and fell a few feet onto the roof of the elevator.
   The motor moving the elevator slipped for a moment because of the added weight, but then it caught and let the elevator continue going upwards. Around a minute later, the elevator stopped on the twenty-third floor and Jobe waited until the passengers were out of it before opening the hatch on the top and dropping down inside as silently as possible. Then with a quick look around, he ran out of the elevator and down the hallway, as alarms went off all around him thanks to the people manning the security office spotting him in the elevator. Ahead and off to the right there was a door leading into a stairwell and Jobe went through it. Below him on the stairs he heard the heavy boots of GSD officers climbing towards him, and so he went upwards towards the roof.
   Jobe moved as fast as he thought reasonable, as he continued running up the stairs, and he didn't see any other signs of law-enforcement personnel until he reached the twenty-sixth floor. Then he heard a door being kicked open below him, and he increased his speed.
   "Stop and we won't hurt you!" yelled one of the officers a few flights below, as Jobe finally reached the door to the roof.
   Jobe ignored the officer and kicked open the locked door. He ran across the rooftop and tried to see if there was any way to get down, but he saw none. Then he looked around the building and finally saw some heavy poles sticking out from the west side of the building with signs bearing vapid slogans attached to them. Behind him the door was shouldered the rest of the way open by one of the GSD officers.
   "You had best give up now, because the only way down is with us," the first officer through the door said with gun raised.
   Jobe looked at the officers all wearing body armor and he saw that they were armed with automatic weapons that were all aimed towards him. "You leave me with few options, officers," he commented, as he casually stepped onto the edge of the roof.
   "This isn't worth killing yourself over," one of the officers said.
   "Who said anything about killing myself?" Jobe asked before turning around and leaping off of the roof.
   After falling for no more than two seconds, he grabbed the first of the heavy poles he came to and swung off of it to the next one. There was a long banner hanging off of this pole, and it stretched across the street to the next building, so he grabbed the banner with one hand and pulled on it to make sure it would be strong enough to support his weight. Then he hung from the banner with one hand while reaching for his pistol, and quickly learned that he must have lost it after jumping off the roof. So he improvised and raised one leg enough to remove a short, thin knife from a sheath on his ankle. He then used this knife to cut through the fabric between the edge of the banner and the metal rings holding it to the pole. As soon as the blade had cut most of the way through the fabric, the banner ripped loose and he swung across the expanse between the two buildings.
   By luck more than anything else, he managed to land on a ledge protruding from the building he swung towards. Once he was balanced on the ledge, he looked around quickly to figure out his options, as he carefully returned the knife to its sheath. Below, he saw a balcony and he jumped down onto it as a bullet flew past him and struck the wall behind the ledge he was just standing on. The occupants of the room the balcony was attached to saw him landing, and one of them reached for a phone while another shouted about calling the police. Jobe tried to decide his next move, and he thought that maybe he would have to break into the apartment behind him. Then he saw a truck with a covered bed passing below him, and he jumped off of the balcony, falling nearly ten meters onto the cover. He looked up at the officers many stories above him, and then he slid across the cover and swung himself into the bed of the truck, which he quickly learned was hauling scrap metal. His hopes that he had escaped capture again were soon dashed, however, as he saw a pair of police vehicles swing around a corner and begin to follow the truck at a high speed.
   Shaking his head, Jobe looked at what was in the bed of the truck with him and saw some smaller bits of scrap metal with sharp points lying around him. He grabbed a handful of these, crawled to the edge of the truck's bed, and stood up so he could have a clear view of the police vehicles. Then with a quick toss, he threw them in the path of the closest vehicle. This caused the first car to jackknife as its tires were punctured and the second vehicle to swerve around the first and move forward in an attempt to close the distance.
   Quickly, Jobe grabbed a length of metal with a jagged end and threw it towards the other vehicle's hood. He struck where he aimed, as it went through the hood and pierced the battery pack beneath. The second car swerved uncontrollably and slammed into a lamppost, as its electrical system shut down from having the battery speared. Jobe ducked back down beneath the tarp, as the truck pulled onto the road that would take it out of the city, and the truck's android driver remained totally oblivious to what had just occurred behind the truck it was driving.

    Krow crossed the border of the small town and rode down the nearly empty streets, straight towards The Arrow. As he approached the inn, he saw many horses bearing the emblem of King Malifesh, and an idea came to him. Krow rode to the front of the inn, dismounted, and told Wotan to stay where he was. Then he quickly unbuckled the saddles on each horse marked with the king's emblem. Satisfied with what he'd done, he walked towards the entrance to the inn, and noticing that Vega's horse was nowhere around, he wondered where his friend might be. Out of the corner of his eye, he also noticed that the sign instructing everyone to leave their weapons outside was gone and one detailing a curfew was in its place.
    Once inside, he noticed the inn was filled with loud people, most of them soldiers. He ignored them as he passed, and they appeared equally oblivious to his presence, except when it became necessary to shoulder his way past one of them. Krow reached the bar and found Vega mixing a drink. "Let us leave this place, my friend. It has become overrun with vermin, and very noisy vermin at that," he declared loud enough for his friend to hear over the noise.
    Vega looked up and grinned weakly. "I've an inn to keep in business, and that means I cannot leave until after my customers have left." He put a mug of beer in front of Krow without waiting for his friend to ask for something to drink.
    "I disagree with you. Only half of this inn is yours, and you shouldn't have to deal with all of the problems." Krow hoisted the mug of beer and drained it in a few gulps, then he set the empty mug on the bar and said, "You should be with your family instead of here serving these fools your impressive brews."
    Just then a man burst through the door, and forced his way through the drunken soldiers. As he made his way up to the bar some of them cursed at him, but he ignored them, as he forced his way towards Vega. When he reached the bar, he breathlessly declared, "There is smoke beyond the trees. It appears near to your home."
    Vega dropped the drink he was mixing, before effortlessly leaping over the bar and running towards the door. A soldier who stood in his way was knocked over, and he hit the floor swearing vividly. When Vega got outside he remembered that he had to spend the last few nights in one of the rooms above the inn and Attilla had led his horse home when she left a few days before.
    Krow stepped out through the doors and declared, "You can ride with me." He then mounted his horse and gestured behind him.
    Vega nodded and climbed onto the horse behind Krow. "Let us hurry. My home may be on fire at this very moment."
    "Let us hope that's not true," Krow said, as he put his heels to Wotan's flanks and they galloped down the street, the horse effortlessly carrying Vega's additional weight.

    When they neared their destination, the first thing they saw were flames leaping towards the sky, as they devoured the buildings in the large clearing. Barn doors were kicked open and horses started galloping away from the flames as fast as their four legs would carry them. Vega saw this, and leapt from Wotan's back, while shouting for Krow to get water. He ran inside his home and looked around frantically for any sign that his wife and child were still inside. Suddenly, he felt a hand grab his arm and spin him around. His eyes met briefly with the eyes of a stranger, and then he was thrown backwards onto the kitchen table.
    He skidded across the surface of the table, and as he hit the floor, he saw the stranger, whose uniform marked him as a soldier, drawing a long knife from a sheath. The soldier rushed towards him, and Vega grabbed a chair to use as a shield. The blade glanced off the edge of the chair and grazed Vega's arm, splitting skin and causing blood to trickle. Vega dropped the chair and leapt to his feet, but he soon was dodging out of the way, as the knife was again swung towards him, falling back in the process and knocking a rack off of the wall. The soldier feinted with his knife, and then punched Vega in the face with sufficient force to knock him to the floor.
    Vega struck the floor, and his vision blurred for a moment upon impact. When his vision cleared, he saw that the soldier was now over top of him, getting ready to deliver a killing blow. As the knife came down, Vega grabbed the soldier's wrist to keep the blade from reaching him. The soldier tried to use his own weight to force the knife down, and Vega knew that he could resist for only so long, so he used his other hand to find something to help him. He ran his hand across the floor and felt his fingers touch something solid, and then he wrapped his fingers around what he had found. Not wanting to waste another moment, he swung his arm up and struck the soldier in the side of the head as hard as he could manage from his position.
    The soldier launched to his feet and blood sprayed from a wound on the side of his head where his right ear once was, and Vega realised that he had grabbed a cleaver that fell when he upset the rack. He rose to his feet clutching the bloody cleaver, and he saw the knife coming towards him again. Time seemed to slow for him, as his warrior's instincts kicked in for the first time since before his son was born, and he began moving without thought, letting instinct guide his movements. He easily dodged the knife, ducking low to split open the soldier's stomach, before coming back up and planting the blade of the cleaver deep in the side of the soldier's neck. Before he had time to stop and think about what had just happened, however, he heard the sound of a blade clearing a leather sheath. He ducked, as a sword cut the air where his head had been moments ago, and he grabbed the knife that the other soldier had dropped. From the feel of the weapon, he knew it was a knife designed for fighting, and the width and angle of the guards reinforced that theory. He turned quickly, as another swing was taken, and he caught the sword's blade on one of the guards. The soldier tried to push the sword down, but using his superior size and strength, Vega pushed the soldier's blade away, and then he closed the distance between them before the soldier could bring his weapon back into play. He drove his fist into the soldier's stomach, making him double over, and then he slammed his fist down into the base of the soldier‘s skull. As the soldier fell to the floor, knocked senseless or perhaps dead, Vega went deeper into the house to retrieve something he knew he would now need.

    Outside, Krow was throwing water at the burning house, and using his axe to break off chunks of burning wood to keep the fire from spreading. His efforts he soon realised were in vain, as the flames leapt ever higher. He looked around, and saw Vega running out of the house carrying a large wooden chest on his back. Over the noise of the crackling flame, he heard Vega telling him to give up on the house and to follow him.
    Krow placed his axe back in its loop on his belt. "Why do you want me to give up on the house?" he asked, though he knew trying to save it would be futile at this point.
    Vega dropped the chest onto the ground before replying, "The inside is too badly burned to remain standing, and I can always build another house." He opened the lid of the chest and pulled out a bundle of clothes. From within the bundle he pulled a hauberk, a black and red tunic, and a long object wrapped in leather. He quickly donned the hauberk and tunic before unrolling the leather to reveal a sword he'd not looked on since a few months before his son was born, over five years ago.
    Krow stared at him, puzzled by the sudden change in his friend's attitude, and saw a dark bruise beginning to form on the side of Vega's head. "What happened in there, Vega? The side of your head is bruised."
    "It is nothing of importance." Vega picked up a belt and the sheath containing his sword, which he wrapped around his waist.
    "I thought you hung up your sword years ago," commented Krow, with a bit of concern in his voice.
    "The soldiers have taken Ebon and Attilla from me, and I am going to get them back at any cost." He whistled and a large black horse trotted over to him, which he quickly saddled. "You may join me if you like, Krow, but do not try to stop me." Vega leapt onto the horse and raised his sword above his head. He let loose the loud howl of a man possessed with the battle-rage typical among men born in the Northern Lands.
    Feeling a stirring in his breast from the thought of Ebon and Attilla being taken prisoner, Krow leapt onto his own horse, and they followed the trail of the soldiers who recently left the clearing. Based on the number of separate tracks, Krow estimated that eight soldiers caused the fire and took captive Vega's family. He looked around as they entered a small forest, and he pulled the axe from his belt. Under his breath, Krow muttered, "Just like things used to be."

    Vega rode silently, as he watched the hoof prints on the ground. He saw that they split apart a few feet ahead, and he told Krow to take the left set of tracks. Without waiting for Krow to say anything, Vega rode off to the right. He ducked under branches, and each breath he took becomes deeper than the last, as he noticed the tracks getting fresher. He raised his sword, as he saw more tracks join the ones he was following. In the distance, he heard talking and his heels dug into his horse's flanks. The animal responded immediately and launched forward.
    Vega burst from the trees and into the centre of a small camp, where two soldiers were pulling down a hide tent. They looked at him in surprise, and before their weapons could clear their sheathes, he leapt from his horse, and attacked them with an almost feral viciousness. With each stroke his blade spilled blood, and the confrontation was ended nearly as quickly as it had begun. Once the last soldier fell, Vega saw that Ebon and Attilla were nowhere to be seen, and so he rode back into the forest without another glance at the men he had just killed.

    Krow followed the tracks until he came upon a tall man standing in the centre of a clearing, with a pair of dead soldiers in pools of blood to either side of him. The man was dressed all in black with a black hat pulled down far enough to hide his features. Nestled in the man's long arms was Ebon, and the young boy seemed unharmed, which brought Krow much happiness. The man gently placed the child on the ground, and then disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
    Once he recovered from his surprise at the man's disappearance, Krow leapt from his horse and yelled, "You are welcome at our fire when you have need of it." Despite being deep in the woods, Krow didn't even hear birds, and he knew that the tall man who rescued Ebon was none other than the man known as Stavros the Slayer. Certain that Stavros left no soldiers alive in the immediate area, Krow kneeled down to check on Ebon, since the boy didn't seem to be stirring. He found a slow and steady heartbeat, and then he picked up a familiar herbal smell on the boy's breath that told him he had been drugged, likely to make it easier to transport him. As quickly as possible, he went over to his horse and removed a couple of things from one of his saddlebags. Without hesitation, he mixed a few herbs and some water inside a metal cup he always carried with him, and poured it into Ebon's mouth. As the boy began to swallow the mixture, Krow heard something crashing through the trees, and turned around with his axe ready, protectively clutching Ebon close to his chest.
    After a few more seconds of noise, Vega rode into the clearing. "I see you've found Ebon," he commented.
    Krow nodded, as he gently lifted the child up so Vega could take him. "To be perfectly honest, it was not I who found him."
    "Who found him if it were not you?"
    "Stavros."
    Vega stopped breathing for a moment, as he heard the name being spoken. "I've not seen him for a long time."
    Krow nodded. "Few alive have seen him more than once. Either way, I can easily tell this is his work." Krow pointed at the two soldiers lying dead on the ground. "They didn't even have a chance to draw their weapons before he killed them."
    "Why does he not react to my touch?" Vega asked, as he pushed some stray hairs from Ebon's forehead.
    "They drugged him," Krow replied with a solemn tone. "I gave him something that should bring him out of his stupor."
    Vega held Ebon tightly. "At least my son still lives, but I must find my Attilla."
    Krow pointed at some tracks that led away from the encampment. "I am guessing she is wherever those tracks lead." He mounted Wotan quickly, but then he patiently waited for his friend to start leading the way.
    Vega tightened his grip on Ebon, as he made his horse move in the direction of the tracks. Behind him he heard Krow, and he remembered riding with Krow in a past he had decided to try to forget when he chose to start a family.
    The tracks turned after a short distance, leading towards what Vega knew to be a small hill, and after less than a minute they exited the trees and began going up the hill. Vega saw three horses ahead of him, and as the distance closed he noticed that two of the horses were being ridden by soldiers and the third horse, which was between the soldiers, was carrying someone bound with ropes. Recognising the person in the middle as Attilla, Vega let loose a war cry and rode down the hill. The sounds of hooves followed him and he knew that Krow was still riding at his back. Vega saw one of the soldiers look back, and then shout something to his comrade. The other soldier looked back, and then they both began to increase their speed, tugging the reins of the horse in the middle to make it match their speed. Vega increased his own speed, and without looking back, he knew that Krow was doing the same.

    Sitting atop the hill overlooking Harrvall, the army under the command of Krow waited. They saw two soldiers and a woman go over the hill a few metres away, and then saw a man astride a large horse, who was holding a child. Going over the hill close behind they saw Krow, his long black hair flapping in the wind, as it pulled loose from the leather thong that held it in place. He was holding his axe above his head and yelling something unintelligible. The man at the front of the column of warriors told the rest to follow him and he rode after Krow. Over fifty men on horses charged behind their chosen leader down the hill and across a flat expanse of land. The man in front pulled out his sabre, and those behind him drew their own weapons. One of the men in front raised the crow's head standard, and it flapped wildly in the wind.

    The soldier to the right of Attilla looked back, and saw that the number of people behind him had increased many times over. He yelled and urged his horse to go faster, as the other soldier did the same. He slapped the rump of the horse bearing the prisoner, and it too increased speed once more.

    Krow heard what sounded like thunder behind him and looked back. He saw his entire army following him with their weapons drawn, and he laughed at how the soldiers being followed must now feel. He reached back with his free hand and unbound his hair the rest of the way, letting it fly freely in the wind. Then he placed the leather thong in a pouch on his saddle, and added on the speed in an attempt to keep up with Vega.

    Vega saw that the soldiers had ridden down a hill towards a mine, which he knew had been closed down years ago after a cave-in, and he made his horse slow down. Ahead he saw the soldiers stop and dismount, as they realised their mistake. He slid back, as he moved Ebon forward and handed him the reins. "Hold on tight to Brand‘s reins, Ebon, and he'll protect you," said Vega, as he leaned back until he rolled off the back of his horse. He landed on his feet, as Brand kept moving with Ebon on his back, and he rushed towards the soldiers with sword ready and a battle cry on his lips.

    Krow stopped and signalled his men to do the same. He felt the vibrations lessen, as all of the horses stopped moving a few at a time. He whistled and Vega's horse obediently walked towards him. Gently, he lifted Ebon from the saddle and held him in his arms, as the boy began to ask questions.
    "Everything will be fine. Your father will win this fight." He held Ebon tight and felt small hands gripping him equally tight. Krow did his best to cover the boy's eyes, so he would not see the slaughter that Krow knew Vega would now partake in.

    Vega struck the first soldier he reached, and gutted him with a powerful slash that almost split the man in two. Vega, however, still took the time for a second slice to remove the soldier's head. As the first soldier fell, Vega rushed towards the next. His first attack was dodged, his second was blocked, and when he tried for a third he was struck in the face with the flat of a blade. He felt blood ooze from his mouth, but it only served to increase his already extraordinary rage. His vision clouded, as he launched his attack, and he kept striking long after his opponent was literally disarmed. He hacked apart the soldier with anger guiding each stroke, until he was brought back from his rage by Attilla yelling his name. As he realised what he was doing, his sword fell from his hand. Then as Attilla walked towards him, he dropped to his knees and wept uncontrollably.
    Attilla kneeled in front of Vega, placed her hands on his strong shoulders, and pulled him close. "You must remember who you are now, and put behind you who you once were. This will pass as it did before."
    Krow rode over and dismounted. He gripped Ebon close to his chest, as though he were his own child, and said, "He will be fine after he gets rid of his rage. I learned that many years ago."
   Attilla nodded, though she only partially heard Krow's words. "I remember when this would happen, and those few times I witnessed it I was always scared of what he might do. Though, in truth, I thought this had ended when Ebon was born."
   "You and Ebon were all he had and he thought you lost. That is what caused this rage," said Krow with a sympathetic tone, as he lowered Ebon to the ground, but he waited until the boy managed to maintain his balance before releasing his grip.
   Attilla whispered to her husband, as he rested his head on her shoulder, and she stopped acknowledging Krow‘s presence.
   Sensing that Attilla didn't want him around, Krow left them alone and went to speak with his warriors. "Who gave the order to ride?" he asked with a bit of amusement in his voice.
   "I did." A muscular man of medium height, with olive skin and exotic features, stepped down from his horse. He sheathed his curved sword without looking down at his scabbard, as he walked over to Krow.
   "And you are?" asked Krow.
   With his head held high, the warrior replied, "Camoon Dovar, at your service."
   "Why did you give the order to ride?"
   "We are to follow you, and you told us to await your return on the hill. You came up one side of the hill and down the other, so I thought you would want us at your back."
   Krow nodded. "A good reason, but I did not require your help. I will admit that your following probably ended the chase sooner than it would have ended had you not followed me." Krow walked away from Camoon and over towards Vega. He noticed that Vega had regained his natural state of being. "Vega, would you and your family like to join us? Our next destination is Drexell, and I'm sure that Ellix will give you a place to stay and anything else you might need."
   Vega looked at Attilla and Ebon. "Would Ellix still have control of his city?"
   "I doubt that anyone Anstrom hired would be willing to risk a full-scale assault on Drexell, so it would be the safest place for you since your home was put to the torch."
   Attilla's eyes got wide and she stared at Vega. "Our home is gone?"
   "It is." Vega took Attilla's hand in his own. "There was nothing I could do to save it, even with Krow's help. I think it would be best to go with him to Drexell."
   Attilla nodded in agreement. "Then we will go."
   Ebon ran over to Krow, almost falling down in the process, and said, "Pick me up again, Uncle Bird. Pick me up, please."
   Krow lifted Ebon up and put him on his shoulders. "Are you happy now?"
   "Yes, Uncle Bird." Ebon giggled joyfully, as he looked at everything from high atop Krow's shoulders. Then he asked to be put down again, and once his feet were on the ground, he ran back over to his parents.
   Krow smiled and quickly mounted his horse. Then he gave the order for everyone to mount up. Once that order was followed they set off for Drexell.

    The hounds tracked their prey relentlessly with their noses close to the ground, the scent of the fugitives compelling them forward. The half dozen guards flanking them focused their attention on the trail of broken limbs and trampled leaves that showed the path their quarry had chosen through the dark forest. There were occasional shouts, as other, unrelated physical signs were spotted, but the sombre Captain Kaellin told his men to keep focused on the task at hand, before becoming silent again.
    After nearly half an hour of following the hounds, the trees finally ended, and the guards were left standing atop a hill overlooking a long field. They stopped to orientate themselves, and their panting hounds sat down to rest. One of the guards spotted their quarry moving across the open field, and pointed them out to his companions, and then he allowed himself to be pulled forward by the slavering hounds once more. Another guard pulled a bow from his back before making his way down the hill.

    As he rushed across the open expanse of the field, the running man turned and yelled to his wife, "We have to keep going! The hounds won't stop until they've found us, and I'm sure High Consul Anstrom will have convinced Baldaur to hunt us down."
    "I hope we find shelter soon, Marlis. I'm getting tired, and Cristanos needs to be fed before he starts crying again," said the man's wife.
    Marlis gestured towards the lights of a village off in the distance and said, "Once we get to that village we can find food and shelter. I'm certain of it, Rose."
    "What village is it?"
    "Almes... I think."
    The howls of the hounds pierced the night behind them, and the pace of the fugitives quickened dramatically. After they had covered a distance of about fifty yards, a whistling sound, followed by a thumping noise, made them halt. A second whistling sound was heard, and then Marlis hissed in pain as an arrow pierced his arm. He yelled for his wife to keep running, and with strong hands he broke the shaft of the arrow in half, before pulling it out through the hole it had made. Then he started to run again, with a trickle of blood oozing from the wound.
    By the time he got to the first building in the village, a sharp pain shot through his spine, and he dropped to one knee. He touched the wound on his back, and felt that it was warm and moist. He looked at his hand, as he brought it forward and saw a crimson smear upon his fingers. His wife stopped and looked at him with fear in her eyes, but he slowly stood back up and told her he would be fine, and then he said that she should keep going until she found shelter. She nodded quickly and ran farther into the village. After watching his wife's retreating form for a few seconds, the barking of the hounds reached his ears, and he realised just how close they were.
    Marlis saw an axe sticking out of a wooden post a few metres to his right, and then he saw four of the most muscular hounds from the king's kennels being let free from their leashes. He instantly recognised the hound at the front by its colouration, and he knew that he would not reach the axe in time. So he braced himself, and grabbed the hound the moment it reached him. Then wrapping his arms around its neck, he lifted it off its feet and snapped its neck.
    He tossed the corpse aside, and knowing his chances of survival were extremely slim, he ripped the axe from the post. The slow trickles of blood going down his back helped him focus, and he tightened his grip on the axe. He let loose a cry of rage, and began running towards his pursuers.
    A hound jumped at him, and he split its skull with a single swing, as he focused his attention towards the men sent after his family. His mad rush carried him to the first of the guards, and he struck the man in the right side of his head with the axe blade. Blood spurted from the wound, as the guard fell to the ground with a cleft skull. Just then, another hound jumped up and sank its teeth into the shaft protruding from Marlis' back. He screamed in agony and dropped to one knee, as the growling hound pulled downward on the shaft, nearly tearing it loose from his flesh. Then other hound sunk its teeth into his wrist, and the axe dropped to the ground.
    Marlis looked at the guards standing over him and recognised a few of them despite the feeble light coming from their torches. With contempt in his voice, he shouted, "How can you do this to me after all we've been through together? How can you do this to my family? Do you have any idea what the high consul is planning on doing tonight?"
    Captain Baldaur Kaellin slowly stepped forward, and pulling free his sword from the scabbard at his hip, said in a solemn voice, "Marlis Ganon, you have been found guilty of plotting against High Consul Anstrom, and the only punishment in this kingdom for such a crime is death. Given your long service to King Mallif, however, I shall give you an honourable death, befitting a soldier of your calibre."
    Captain Kaellin closed his eyes, as he brought the blade of his sword down upon Marlis' neck. Blood sprayed from the wound and Marlis collapsed to the ground. Goaded by their handlers, the hounds began to tear him apart. Captain Kaellin watched the horrendous display with disgust, as he whispered, "May God have mercy upon your soul." The captain then ordered his men to pull the hounds away, and they followed his orders immediately. Turning towards the nearest guard, he said, "Give me your cloak." He saw the guard hesitate so he repeated himself. "I said, give me your cloak." The intense look in his eyes kept the guard from questioning him. "Thank you," he quietly said, as the cloak was placed in his hands. "Now I want all of you to head into that village and await my arrival before proceeding further."
    "Yes, sir," the guards said in unison, before turning to follow their leader's orders.
    As soon as the guards were out of sight, Captain Kaellin covered up the body of his friend with the cloak. Then he pulled a flask of oil from beneath his own cloak and poured it onto the shrouded body. Once that was done, he grabbed the closest torch he could find and carried it over to where his friend lay. With a prayer of forgiveness for his actions, and a prayer for Marlis' soul, he lowered the torch until it touched the edge of the cloak. He said a final prayer as he watched it ignite. Then as the flames began to consume the body of Marlis Ganon, the captain raised his sword above his head to salute his fallen friend. Once the flames began to die, he turned and headed into the village to finish what he had set out to do.

    Rose went from house to house, begging for someone to give her shelter, but no one would open their door because they could hear the hounds‘ baying. She finally located a barn with a partially opened door and quickly slipped inside. With a quick glance around, she saw assorted tools that she guessed belonged to a blacksmith along with a few piles of straw. She was looking for a place to hide herself when she heard the yelling of guards coming closer to the barn. Rushing over to the nearest pile of straw, she hollowed out a small space close to the wall, and gently placed the child into the hollowed space, a few seconds before the guards threw the door open with a loud creak.
    As quickly as she could, she ran towards a ladder on the other side of the barn and attempted to reach the loft. However, before she had climbed more than a few rungs, a hound grabbed the bottom of her dress and pulled until she fell from the ladder and landed in a pile of straw. The hound was then called away and one of the guards walked over to the pile of straw where she lay with eyes wide open and full of terror.
    The guard looked her over and flashed her a disgusting smile. He told the other guards to close the door and they hesitantly complied. Then he grabbed Rose, pulled her to her feet, and then forced her up against the wall. "Don't even think about screaming for help, wench." The guard said, as he tried to push her dress past her hips with one hand. He licked his lips and said, "She is a nice one, and I haven't had me one this nice for a long while." Then as he began to unbuckle his belt with his free hand, the woman grabbed a poker and thrust it through his boot and into his foot.
    "Don't touch me!" Rose screamed, as she twisted the poker with all her strength.
    The guard slapped her across the mouth and knocked her onto the floor. "You'll pay for that, wench," he shouted, as he pulled the bloody poker out of his foot-a grimace of pain on his angry face. Angrily, he threw the poker onto the floor and jumped onto the woman. "I always thought you were too pretty for Marlis," he whispered lasciviously in her ear, as he tried to subdue her flailing limbs.
    "Get off me, pig!" she shouted angrily, and accentuated her words by digging her fingernails into the side of her attacker's face. Her efforts were rewarded with another slap from the guard, as blood freely flowed from the deep furrows her fingernails left on his face.
    "I'll teach you not to resist me," the guard growled, as drool began to run from the corner of his mouth. He wrapped his large hands around her neck and began to squeeze, when he heard the sounds of the door being thrown open and one of his fellow guards gasping. "What's going on back there?" he asked, as he heard the approaching sounds of heavy boots.
    "I am ending your abuse of this prisoner," an angry voice replied.
    Recognising the voice, the guard said, "I'll be finished with her in a moment, Captain. As soon as she stops moving I'll let her go."
    Captain Kaellin shook his head. "You are finished now," he said in a voice brimming with anger, the sword in his hand still wet with the blood of his friend.
    The guard glanced over his shoulder. "She's just a prisoner. I've a right to do this."
    Captain Kaellin glanced at the bloody poker and the blood around the guard's foot. His eyes flashed to the gouges on the guard's face, and then he looked at the blood at the corner of the woman's mouth. "You will release her now." He tightened his grip on the sword until his knuckles turned white. "Do you understand me, Vareb?"
    "What are you going to do to me? I'm just trying to teach her a lesson." Vareb returned his attention to the prisoner, whose eyes were beginning to roll back in her head.
    Captain Kaellin took a step forward with his sword raised and he moved his arm until the blade of his sword was pointing at the insubordinate guard's back. He noisily cleared his throat, as he placed one hand on Vareb's shoulder, and said with a voice full of hate, "Disobedience is punishable by death." He then brought his arm forward and shoved the blade of his sword through Vareb's midsection with a quick thrust. Blood exploded from the wound, splattering on the woman's body, and then began to run down Vareb's chest and back. Captain Kaellin twisted the sword as he pulled it out, and watched as Vareb fell over onto his side to bleed on the floor. Then he cleaned the blade of his sword on Vareb's tunic before sheathing it. With a hard tone, he quickly instructed the two remaining guards to get their prisoner on her feet, and to bind her wrists securely.
    Breathing heavily, Rose shook uncontrollably, as she was brought to her feet. On her face, as she looked at Captain Kaellin, was an expression somewhere between gratitude and fear. Her eyes travelled downward towards Vareb's body, and she spat on the corpse while a rope was being tied around her wrists.
    Once she was restrained, Captain Kaellin fixed her dress and said, "Your husband is dead. I am truly very sorry, but he was already slowly dying from his wounds." He turned his head so he didn't have to face her, and said in a quiet voice, "I had no real choice in this matter. You must believe me on that." Turning to the guards, he hesitated briefly before giving the command, "Find the child if you can."
    "Where should we start looking?" asked one of the guards.
    Captain Kaellin glanced over at a pile of straw that showed signs of disturbance. "You two look over that way, and I'll look over in this corner," he replied, as he headed towards the pile of straw. He found the child easily, but he pretended to search for a few minutes. Then he pulled out his sword and stabbed into the pile a few times.
    "What's going on?" asked one of the guards, as he heard the captain‘s sword slicing through the straw.
    "I am completing Anstrom's orders," he replied, as he wiped off his sword.
    "What orders, captain?" asked the other guard.
    "He wished their child destroyed," Captain Kaellin replied simply. He returned his sword to its sheath, and walked towards their prisoner, who now had an expression of horror and disgust on her face.
    Before anything else could be said, a giant of a man with bulging cords of muscle entered through the open door carrying something in his right hand. He declared loudly in a deep, rumbling voice, "You're not welcome in this village. Return to your castle and never show yourselves here again."
    Captain Kaellin looked at the man. "Who might you be to give orders to the captain of the king's guards?"
    The man leaned against the massive double-edged axe he had been carrying when he entered, and replied, "I'm Harwin Vahrin, and this is my barn you‘re trespassing in."
    Making a guess that the man could effectively wield the massive weapon with one hand, Captain Kaellin slowly said, "I am Captain Baldaur Kaellin of King Mallif's Royal Guard, and I apologize for any trouble we may have caused you, but we were sent to retrieve this woman. However, given the mess that was made before my arrival in this village, I'll see to it that you are compensated for any damage we may have accidentally caused during our search." He paused to see if Harwin would say anything, but the large man simply stared at him. "We will now take this prisoner and leave your village peacefully." At a nod of agreement from Harwin, Captain Kaellin immediately led his men out of the village. The guards carried Vareb‘s body, and he led their silent prisoner.
    After Kaellin and his guards were gone, Harwin Vahrin heard a rustling in the straw and lifted his axe to his shoulder with one hand. He cautiously followed the noise, and found a small child surrounded by enough straw to hide it. Shocked at the sight, he leaned his axe against the edge of his forge, and with surprising gentleness for a person his size, he picked the child up and took it into his house.
    Upon entering his home he called for his wife and told her, "Essie, I just found a child in the barn. I think this is what those guards were looking for."
    Harwin's wife looked at the child. "We can't keep it. We should take it to the castle as soon as morning comes."
    "If someone has to send hounds to retrieve a child, it is safer with us."
    Harwin looked his wife in the eyes and said, "We have wanted a child, and this may be our only chance to have one of our own. You must admit that it's better off with us than it would be if we gave it to those guards."
    His wife looked the child over and slowly nodded. "There is truth to what you say, and he doesn't look like he has seen more than two winters-if even that many."
    "Then that matter is settled," Harwin said, ending the discussion.