Swanheart

Chapter Seventeen

The Truth Beneath

>"Lost," High Councilor Arida muttered, standing on the balcony and looking down on the city of Shircon that spread out in front of her. Her wrinkled, gnarled hands were wrapped tightly around the staff, which she used to keep herself upright. Sad were her eyes as they gazed upon the capital, which she had known for so many decades. As a child she had played in the streets and later on she had lived in the High Halls as one of the High Councilors. It all seemed such a long time ago.

The life they had known had come to an end. Peace had been shattered and war had befallen them once again. Cerrn, the dark one, the banished one, the demon of ancient times, had grown strong. The masked sorcerer had come to prepare the path for him, sowing evil. And they were lost in the onslaught of his powers. Country after country had been taken over, their sacred gemstones stolen and turned into a weapon of malevolent intentions. They were defenseless in the face of his magic. An eerie darkness had settled over the land. Although it could not be seen, it was there and spreading, blackening the hearts of people, some relished in it and followed the dark wizard, others were sent into despair. Destruction was everywhere and it was bound to also come to Shircon, the once shining capital of Yuron.

A cold wind blew strongly from the south-east, tousling Arida's white hair and robes, chilling her to the bone. Thunderstorms were not an unusual occurrence for this season, but deep down, she knew that this was not an average one that was building there. It had her on edge, every nerve tingled and she felt a sense of dread overcome her. "The herald of doom," she whispered, taking in the storm front that was gathering far in the south-east, with huge clouds in a dark purple color and the distant rumbling of thunder, booming like war drums. Before her mind's eye, she saw Shircon's buildings turned to rubble, fallen apart, destroyed, becoming mere blackened and burnt out ruins of debris. Chaos ruled in the streets that were lined with corpses and the dying while the Shadow Warriors swooped down on every living being that ran in panic, while the black-armored soldiers of the masked sorcerer raided and pillaged. Shuddering, she blinked, clutching the staff. The vision vanished. There was still hope, though dwindling, but it was there.

"You should not be outside. I doubt that this weather will help your condition," said a deep voice behind her, gently but firmly reprimanding her. A woolen blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

"Ah, Naphtalon, what do you know of my condition?" Arida wanted to know, turning towards him. One hand let go of the staff and held on to the blanket, keeping it from sliding off. "Have you taken up a new profession? Are you a healer now?" she asked, looking up at the man with the braided beard, who had come to stand beside her.

He smiled down at the crone, his eyes full of concern. "If I would have followed the wishes of my parents, I indeed would have become a healer."

"And a fine one you would have been, mother hen," Arida chuckled.

Naphtalon placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. "Mother hen?"

"I know, I know, you just care, my friend, and I appreciate it."

"You are most welcome."

Silence fell as they both regarded the city that lay below them.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Naphtalon remarked. "No matter how often I have seen it, Shircon still takes my breath away."

"May the Spirits give it that it will survive," Arida croaked through a tight throat. "Do you believe King Zaylan's plan is going to work? Was it the right decision to agree to it?"

"You mean to lure the masked sorcerer deliberately into battle?"

The crone nodded.

Naphtalon sighed. "To tell you the truth, I do not know, but if another way had been possible I would have welcomed it. On the other side, we have nothing to lose. The dark one takes over and we just bow down, letting him do it, or we fight him, defending ourselves, protecting our people and our lives, regaining our freedom and peace. It sounds simple, doesn't it? I don't want to think about what will happen should we fail."

"Me neither." Shaking her head sadly, Arida slowly turned to the balcony door. "It is rather chilly and you are right, I shouldn't be outside."

He reached for her arm, supporting her. "Let me assist you."

"Thank you." Slowly, they made their way inside where the servants had lit the fireplace. Gingerly and groaning, Arida lowered her protesting body into an overstuffed armchair. "By the Spirits," she sighed. "These old bones crack and pop with every move. If there is one thing you should refrain from, it is to get old. I highly recommend it, do not do that."

"I will keep it in mind," he promised, taking a seat opposite her. "Now, please tell me, where are these doubts coming from?"

"What do you mean?" Arida inquired, adjusting the folds of her robes.

"You think that Zaylan and the others will not succeed," Naphtalon pointed out. "Don't try to deny it. I have known you long enough to see through the mask of indifference that you just put on."

She exhaled sharply. "I just can't shake this sense of foreboding. When King Zaylan was here with High Sorceress Ranya to tell us about his battle plan, I noticed something about them."

Naphtalon sat up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his folded hands. "What was it? I couldn't detect anything strange. The plan is well thought through and this whole bad situation has also brought something good into this world, reuniting countries that have been enemies before. If it wouldn't have been for King Zaylan, who knows if we would be at speaking terms with the Elves of Ilumera after centuries of distrust. I do admit there was a certain aura of desperation about them, which is only understandable due to the great sacrifice. I mean, after all, he is willingly luring the masked sorcerer to Chitaan. Aren't we all clinging to his plan as our last ray of light in the dark hours that we might have to face soon?"

"Certainly, but I felt that he was keeping something important from us," Arida responded.

Naphtalon frowned. "Concerning what? The battle plan?"

The crone shrugged. "I can't put my finger on it, but my nerves and emotions have been frayed lately anyway. King Zaylan knows what's at stake and he has the outmost faith that his plan is going to work. Still, like in a house, if only one keystone is missing the whole structure will come down on our heads..."

Naphtalon's frown deepened. "You fear it will not work?"

She shook her head. " No," Arida corrected him. "I don't fear that. I'm just saying I got the impression that he didn't tell us everything."

"Does it have something to do with the 'keystones' of his plan?"

Arida nodded hesitantly. Then she sighed. "I'm praying to the Spirits that it will work. Otherwise this life is no longer worth living."

*****

The captives were still locked up and had not been allowed outside the wagon.

After they had eaten and Leigh had regained more control of her gurah-induced weak body, they had tried to catch a glimpse of the outside world, but the cracks in the shutters were too tiny to actually see anything. Nobody had come to see them or talk with them. The woman, Neva, also had not been back, so they still had no news on Terrulli's wellbeing.

Meanwhile the wagon column had stopped for the night. Straining their ears, they pressed them against the shutters, listening in on the men that were sitting around a campfire. Apparently, they had to make their way over some difficult terrain, the word 'swamp' fell a few times and not even Ramon was crazy enough to try and cross it in the dark of night.

"Swamps?" Leigh uttered, deep in thought. "That still doesn't tell us anything about where we are going." The knight sighed in exasperation and sat down, leaning back against the rough wall.

Alannah slid down beside her. She slumped to the floor, her usual grace gone.

Leigh regarded her with concern. She had never seen her face so pale. Reaching over, she brushed a few wisps of silver hair back from Alannah's face. "You are exhausted and the manacles, which are draining your magic, are not helping any. Don't fight it, my precious princess. Go to sleep."

"I don't think that I can. I'm overtired," Alannah muttered, shaking her head slightly.

The knight chuckled softly at the whining tone. "Yes, you can. Just lay down," she responded, combing her fingers gently through the other woman's long, silver strands, secretly marveling about their softness.

"What about you?" Alannah asked drowsily, Leigh's gentle touches relaxing her. She was barely able to keep her eyes open, jerking every time the lids closed of their own volition. "I've seen you rub your eyes more than once and you're trying to stifle your yawns," she pointed out.

"I will be fine. Remember, I was unconscious. I will keep watch while you rest."

"Alright." Defeated and without further do, Alannah stretched out on the hard wooden floor, resting her head on Leigh's lap.

The white wolf curled up next to her.

Turning onto her side, the princess wrapped her arms around Cerulia as much as she could due to the shackles, running her fingers lazily through the soft, thick fur. "Wake me if there is any trouble," she mumbled sleepily.

"I will." Leigh adjusted Alannah's blue cloak so that it functioned as a blanket, keeping her warm through the chill of the autumn night. "Have sweet dreams," the knight whispered, never ceasing the gentle stroking of Alannah's hair.

"That feels so good. Mmmmhhh..." Her eyes popped open one more time and she turned to look at Leigh. "Don't be having heavy thoughts. I don't like when there is a sad expression on your face..."

Leigh's gaze softened immediately, touched by her friend's concern. "Always looking out for me, aren't you?"

Nodding briefly, the princess wanted to respond, but Leigh stopped her. "Shhh, don't you worry about a thing. Everything will be fine. Go to sleep." Using her index finger, she gently stroked it over the back of Alannah's nose.

Dark silver eyelashes fluttered shut at the caress. With a last sigh, the princess' breathing evened and her body relaxed completely, succumbing to needed sleep.

Leaning her head against the wall, Leigh exhaled deeply in frustration. They were not one step closer to finding a way out of this situation. Clenching her jaw, she mulled everything over, brooding. The only thing that came to her mind was to overpower whoever would dare set a foot into the wagon and fight their way out of it.

"You may be the Deliverer of Peace, but I wouldn't attempt that in your weakened state or you will be the one, who is going to be overpowered."

Jerking, Leigh was completely caught off guard to find herself staring into a gently smiling face.

The woman that stood in front of her was slightly taller than the knight. She was encased in flowing silky robes of light green, the garb of a priestess. The cape, which hung from her shoulders, was in a darker shade of the same color. Leather gauntlets covered her wrists and golden bracelets encircled her bare upper arms. She held a long staff in her right hand. The symbol of the sun, made of gleaming metal, adorned the staff's top. A golden headband, carved into the shape of oak leaves rested on top of her straight, jet-black hair. Dark brown eyes regarded her friendly.

Reaching down, meaning to grasp and squeeze Alannah's shoulder to wake her, Leigh realized that the princess had disappeared, as well as Cerulia. "What in the Spirits' names..." Frantically, she turned her head in every direction. The surroundings had changed. Gone were the walls of the wagon. Nothing could be seen due to a light gray fog, which was slowly swirling around them.

"Besides, you don't have any weapons," the stranger continued matter-of-factly. Then she raised a slanted eyebrow and smirked. "Or does your armor conceal them?"

Too surprised to speak, the knight could only look up at her, trying to get her befuddled brain to work. She was sure that this woman had cast a spell over them all and was messing with her mind.

Still smiling, the woman shook her head slightly. "I am not bewitching you."

"Then how did you know what I was thinking?" Leigh stammered, rising carefully to her feet. Raising her chin a bit and giving her a challenging look, she demanded, "What have you done to my friends? Who are you and where are we?"

"You are asleep and I have entered your dreamscape."

Now it was the knight's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I have fallen asleep?"

The woman's smirk grew. "Not an easy endeavor, I'm afraid."

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Leigh inquired further, "You mean to tell me that you are a Dreampath-Walker?"

Nodding, the priestess replied, "Among other things." She glanced around skeptically. "Though, I have to admit your dreamscape is looking rather dull. We should change that." Her lips were moving softly but no sound was emitted as she slowly twirled the staff.

The fog vanished, leaving them in the middle of a forest clearing. Tall oak trees surrounded them and a blanket of soft green grass spread out under the soles of their boots.

Looking around in wonder, Leigh walked over to a tree, running her fingers over the rough, partly moss-covered bark. "It feels so real," she announced, astonished. "How is that possible?"

"When we have more time I will explain it to you."

"Alright. So?" Leigh spread her arms, looking at her questioningly. "What is it that you want from me? You didn't go to all that trouble to enter my dreamscape for nothing, right?"

"Straight to the point, I like that. He might be on to me, so this might be the only chance I have to talk with you."

Frowning, Leigh asked, "He? Who? Ramon? Who are you?"

The priestess held up one hand to forestall the flow of questions. "Help is on its way, but you need to hang in there. Ramon will question you soon about the ring, which he took from you."

The knight's eyes widened and she whispered, "The Pearl of Zimahil?"

Nodding, the other woman took a step closer. "He is obsessed with it. For days he has been trying to find its secret. No matter what, the truth must not be revealed to him."

"It will be of no use to him, because it doesn't work in the hands of a magic-wielder."

The priestess snorted. "Ramon has no more magic in his blood than a pile of horse dung."

Leigh grinned as an idea formed in her head. "So he can be overpowered."

Looking at her with a serious expression, the other woman responded, "Don't underestimate him. He doesn't fight fair. Remember how you were ambushed. You never saw them coming. Besides, you might feel strong at the moment, but your body is in no condition to fight off anybody. It is a wonder you can stand on your own two feet."

Embarrassed, the knight rubbed the back of her neck. "True. So, what is the plan?"

"Lay low. Don't attract Ramon's attention any more than you have to. Save your strength and be prepared."

Leigh looked at her, waiting, expecting more to come. When there wasn't, she asked incredulously, "That's it? That's the whole plan?" Crossing her arms in an annoyed gesture, she spat sarcastically, "Great. Why is it that there can never be a clear answer? Why do there always have to be riddles and vague hints? How do I know that you have actually been talking with me? After all we are in my dreamscape!" She waved her arms in a helpless expression of frustration, indicating their surroundings.

Out of thin air, the other woman produced an amulet. It was a delicate silver chain with an oak leaf pendant. Crossing over, she placed it into Leigh's hand. "That should keep you from doubting what happened."

The priestess' body began to shimmer in front of her.

"What's going on?" the knight asked, drawing her brows together questioningly.

"I have to go," the priestess stated with a sad smile. "I'm sorry."

"What?!" Leigh exclaimed in disbelief. "No, wait! I still don't know your name!" Reaching out, she intended to take the woman's hands to keep her from leaving, but only grasped thin air as the priestess faded completely.

"Denora is with you," were the last words that drifted to her ears in a faint whisper.

The clearing disappeared only to be replaced by the gray, swirling fog. "Be prepared for what?" Leigh shouted desperately, hoping for an answer.

There was none.

*****

As Burak regained consciousness, everything was dark around him. His head was throbbing. With the pain came the awareness that he was tied, blindfolded and gagged. His hands were bound at the wrists and another rope immobilized his legs. He searched his mind, trying to find the answer to one question. What had happened? Going through his memories, he attempted to put the pieces together, which had led to his latest predicament.

Lost in thought, he had wandered through the hallways of his dark master's dwellings, brooding, plotting, wanting to find a way to adjust his plans to the new situation. During that he had forgotten his first rule: Always pay attention to your surroundings. Burak had never heard his attacker coming. Somebody had snuck up from behind him and the fierce headache indicated that he had been knocked out. After that they had tied him up and brought him here, wherever here was.

Straining his ears, he caught the faint whispering, but it was too low to make out the exact words. The only thing he managed to gather was the presence of two people.

His heart began to pound strongly as a frightening thought struck him. What if the masked sorcerer knew about his plans? That had to be the explanation. The dark wizard had found out and had ordered some of his trusty servants to confine him to a cell in the dungeons. His life was forfeit, he knew that, but he would not go down without a fight. He began to struggle in his bonds.

"He is coming to," a voice said.

Burak stopped his movements, surprised that it was a woman's voice. It sounded vaguely familiar. He had heard it before. It was somewhere in the back of his mind.

"My Queen, are you sure that this was the right idea?" asked another woman.

Burak knew that voice well. It belonged to Indira, a slave assigned to kitchen duty.

"What choice do we have, Indira?"

There was a rustling of clothes and only a second later, the voice was right next to his ear. "I will take off the blindfold now. Do not struggle. We will not hurt you."

The voice had a calming effect on Burak. He lay very still as the cloth was unwrapped from his head. Blinking his eyes a few times, he took in his surroundings. Though he was lying on a pile of straw, he wasn't in the dungeons. As soon as his eyes had adjusted to the candle light, he found that he was in a tiny room. Another pile of straw was in front of him and a woman was sitting there, obviously nervous in the face of his scrutiny. It was indeed Indira from the kitchen.

"It was not my wish to hurt you. I am sorry that we had to rely on such desperate measures to talk with you," the other woman said and for the first time Burak regarded her closely. She was tall and slender and despite the rags that covered her body and the dirt that marred her face, she held herself in a proud posture, kneeling there next to him on the floor to be at one level with his gaze. Her ice-blue eyes bore into his and finally recognition dawned.

"Yes, you are surprised to see me alive. Imagine how I felt after waking up and not finding myself in the Different World, not that it wasn't for your dark Lord's lack of trying to send me there. You came back with your troops to ransack my castle, but you had to leave without finding what the masked sorcerer had sent you for. Nonetheless, you didn't return with empty hands to your master. When your men took their new slaves away, I was among them, but nobody knew my true identity." Her voice took on a determined timbre. "I am Rovannah and you will help us in freeing my son, the Prince of Ashkyhra, and the High Sorceress of Pavan. Furthermore you will help us to defeat the dark wizard."

Burak just stared wide-eyed at the Queen of Ashkyhra while she loosened the gag and pulled it from his mouth.

*****

Green eyes flew open and Leigh straightened. She was still sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the wagon wall. The gray light of early morning illuminated the interior of their prison and nothing could be heard from outside. Shaking her head slightly, she tried to clear her mind. "What a strange thing to dream," she muttered to herself. Before she could contemplate it further, she felt Alannah stir.

Shackles rattled as the princess sat up. "Hey. Is it morning yet?" she asked, her voice still scratchy from sleep.

"Barely," Leigh answered, rubbing her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Alannah stood and stretched thoroughly. "Weak and thirsty."

"I'm sorry." Leigh's voice broke slightly as she stared hard at the floor, unable to face the fatigued features of the other.

Regarding her friend in concern, Alannah wanted to know, "Did you get any rest, or were you awake all night, brooding?" She sat down beside her and placed an arm around her shoulder. "Leigh, we have talked about it. None of this is your fault. Please, stop beating up on yourself."

"I know... I just... I..." Not finishing what she meant to say, the knight sighed in frustration.

"It will be okay and we will find a way to get out of this."

"I had the strangest dream," Leigh said after a moment of silence. "Or maybe it wasn't a dream. I'm a bit confused."

"Please, tell me about it," Alannah responded.

"Are you familiar with the technique of Dreampath walking?"

"I heard about it during my studies at the Wizardry Academy. Only a few magicians can do that and I have never attempted it, though it sounds fascinating. It is highly complicated and you need to be really in tune with your mind and body in order not to get lost in the other's dreamscape. Why? Do you think you have accidently entered somebody else's dream?"

"No, but somebody was in mine."

The princess frowned, but she was also intrigued. "What happened?"

Unconsciously, Leigh's right hand wandered up to her neck to fiddle with the necklace. Her eyes widened in surprise as her fingers closed around the familiar shape of the swan pendant, only to find that it was gone, having been replaced with another. "By Ossyr," she gasped. Using both hands, she reached up and opened the necklace's clasp in the back of her neck, taking it off. "Look at that!"

Alannah took the amulet from her hands. "An oak leaf. The sign of Denora," the princess whispered in awe. "Neva had said that the Spirit of wood is with us. Leigh, tell me more about your dream."

"Well, holding this pendant, I dare say it wasn't a dream in the common sense. I was really talking with a priestess of Denora in my dreamscape."

"What did she say?" Alannah asked excitedly. She was fully awake now.

"She said this might be the only chance she has to talk with me since 'he' might be on to her. I have no idea whom she was talking about. I guess Ramon, but I'm not sure. She also revealed that Ramon is no magic-wielder."

"That is good to know. Do any of his men have magic in their blood?"

Leigh shrugged her shoulders. "She didn't say. I would say no or else they wouldn't need to conceal themselves with Elven cloaks. I also doubt that Ramon would tolerate somebody, who could overthrow him with a snap of his fingers. Don't you agree?"

Alannah nodded and a thought came to her mind. "Then we can try and fight our way out of this when you are stronger," the princess declared grimly. "And as soon as I managed to get rid of these shackles."

Leigh entwined her fingers with Alannah's. "The priestess warned me not to attempt a fight. She said that help is on the way. We need to hang in there."

"What help?"

"I don't know," the knight said, shrugging her shoulders and putting on the necklace once more. "We didn't get to talk long before she vanished and I woke up. She told me that Ramon is obsessed with the ring, desperately wanting to uncover its secret. He must not know the truth."

"He will not get it out of me," Alannah swore.

Giving the fingers she held a soft squeeze in acknowledgement, Leigh smiled. "I know."

"What now? We wait until we are rescued?"

Before Leigh could answer, loud shouts interrupted them. At first they did not understand what the ruckus was about. Soon after, the wagon's door flew open and two men entered.

Leigh had barely enough time to get up when the men grabbed her roughly at the arms.

"What do you want?" Alannah demanded, rising as well.

Cerulia snarled and growled, ready to tackle the thugs.

"Let my husband go," the princess yelled, remembering that she had to keep up the pretense of Leigh being a man. "What do you want from him?"

"Shut up wench, before we have to put you in your place," one grumbled and shoved her backward.

Losing her balance due to the unexpected push, Alannah fell.

Leigh saw it and struggled in the grasp of the man holding her.

"Stop it, fool! You'll only make it worse for you!" was hissed into her ear. A knee connected with her kidney area and she doubled over, clenching her teeth to suppress an outcry of pain.

"Leave him alone!" Alannah shouted again, scrambling to her feet, cursing her inability to cast a magic spell. Again she was pushed out of the way.

That was too much for the white wolf. Her fur bristling, Cerulia snarled, jumped at the man and sank her teeth deeply into his arm, before anybody could stop her. Blood dribbled to the floor.

He howled in pain, trying to shake off the angry animal.

The wolf didn't budge. Her jaws were locked and there was no escape for the man. Growling and snarling, she pulled at the arm, shaking her head, increasing the pain. "Help me, Jad! Get this beast off me!" he screamed in agony and despair.

Cursing, Jad quickly put his massive arms around Leigh's throat, choking her. Glaring at Alannah, he spat, "Tell your beast to let Vic go or your husband will die." He flexed the muscles of his bare arms. "I'll snap his spine like a twig! I'm serious!"

Fearing that he would actually carry out the threat, Alannah called Cerulia to her.

The wolf let go, but only reluctantly. Her snout and teeth were red from Vic's blood.

Loosening the grip Jad had on the knight's throat, he took one step back.

Wheezing for breath, Leigh dropped to her knees.

"Leigh!" Alannah hurried to her side.

Jad looked after his wounded comrade. "Neva! Get in here!" he shouted.

Her eyes cast to the floor, the woman with the heavily scarred face entered the wagon.

"Treat his wound," he ordered, dragging the knight to her feet.

"Come with me. You might need stitches," Neva said softly, guiding the hurt man, who was clutching at his bleeding arm, to her own wagon. As they passed the wolf, Vic scowled at her. "When I see you next time, I will sink the steel of my knife into your flesh," he promised with a sneer.

"Do that and you'll be a dead man," Leigh threatened through clenched teeth.

The other man twisted her arms painfully behind her back after shoving Alannah roughly out of the way.

"You are in no position to make any threats," Jad told her matter-of-factly, tying her wrists with a piece of rope. The fibers burnt and cut deeply into her flesh, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain. Turning her head, she concentrated on Alannah, looking at her as reassuring as she could muster. "It will be alright. Don't worry."

The princess tried to give her a brave smile, but she failed utterly. Unshed tears were shimmering in her brown eyes. "I know." Her voice broke. "Leigh, I lo..."

"Yeah, yeah, enough with the lovey-dovey crap!" Jad cut her off gruffly. "You had better make sure that your beast knows its manners. If she attacks again, I'll slit her throat personally, before I let Vic have his vengeance." He sneered. "Pray to your Spirit or whatever deity you believe in that Neva will be able to patch up his arm and that he won't lose it. Otherwise..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but the princess could hear the unspoken threat loud and clear. Alannah drew Cerulia into her arms. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest, fearful of what would now happen to her knight.

Keeping a firm grip on Leigh's arms, the man pushed her out of the wagon. "Ramon would like to have a word with you. It would be better for you to comply and not try anything stupid."

Another guard, who shut and bolted the wagon's door, appeared, casting Alannah and Cerulia once more into semi darkness.

Cerulia threw her head back and a blood-curling howl erupted from her throat.

The princess just held her, her own pain expressed by tears that trickled down her cheeks. "May the Spirits help us..."

*****

"You do not know what you are asking," Burak said hoarsely, after having regained his composure, his mind still racing from what the Queen of Ashkyhra had revealed. "He is too powerful. He has everybody subdued with his magic."

Rovannah nodded slowly. "I know. He put a dark spell on you too, making you believe to be somebody that you aren't."

Burak's eyes darted around like that of a trapped animal that was looking for an escape.

"He has been messing with your mind," Rovannah continued, "suppressing your true self."

"How do I know that this is real? How do I know he is not doing it again right now?" he wanted to know, sounding forlorn like a frightened child. "This all could be another game of him to test my loyalty. I'm as good as dead. Or maybe this is just a dream and when I wake up I will find myself once more in the nightmare that he created to rule the world. I do not know who I am!" He swallowed convulsively.

The queen looked at him, her eyes full of compassion. Though Burak had committed unspeakable crimes, he was not to blame for them, because he too was a victim of the masked sorcerer, placed under a spell to turn him into the perfect General for his dark army. "I can help you. I can show you, who you truly are, if you will let me," Rovannah offered.

"No, my Queen!" Indira interrupted and jumped from her makeshift bed. Crossing the floor she knelt down next to Rovannah, placing a hand on her arm and looking at her imploringly. "Please, my Queen, you can't. It's too dangerous. If you use your magic, he..."

"I know of the risks," Rovannah cut her off. "Believe me, I have thought it through well. Sooner or later we have to come out of hiding. Wasn't it you who said, 'We have to resist. We can't just sit here and do nothing.'?"

Sighing in defeat, Indira lowered her head.

Rovannah turned back to the bound man. "Will you let me help you?"

Burak was torn. His mind was whirling and he didn't know what to think.

The Queen of Ashkyhra saw this. "I know it is hard, but deep down you know that you can trust me. Listen to your heart like you have done before. Due to that you have already partly freed yourself from the dark spell that held you encased. You know that what the masked sorcerer is doing is wrong. You know that he is not the Chosen of the Spirits, nor is he the Deliverer of Peace. I have seen the goodness in your soul and every time you had to act against it, it was crying out in pain. I know that you have helped others, putting yourself at risk of discovery. You could have turned in Indira after she slipped that herb into the stew that made the army sick, but you didn't. You are not General Burak. This cruel man's identity was forced upon you. Your face has been altered as well."

"But... but all I remember is being that man... a soldier... serving the masked sorcerer."

"Exactly," Rovannah said softly. "But what about other memories? Do you remember your childhood? Do you remember your father and your mother? Do you remember sisters or brothers? Do you remember your hometown? Do you remember the country where you are from?"

Silence fell while Burak stared at the straw pile across from him, contemplating it all. Then he looked once more at the Queen's compassionate face. "No... no... there is nothing... only battlefields... and darkness... pain... so much pain..." His lower lip began to tremble and he bit down on it. "I want it to stop. I cannot live in this darkness."

"You will not have to. We will help you to find back to the man that you truly are." Rovannah untied his hands and legs and helped him to sit up. "Do you remember when you took me to the dungeons to assist in bringing food and water to my son and Tanith?"

He nodded.

"I saw into your eyes then and searched your mind. I detected memory blockades that had been erected there."

"Can you... can you take them away?" Burak asked hesitantly.

Rovannah locked her blue eyes on his. "Do you trust me?"

His gaze never wavered. "I do."

"Will you help us?"

"Yes." The answer came in one firm word and the Queen of Ashkyhra knew they could believe him.

Rovannah raised her hands, intending to place them on the man's temples.

He intercepted her hands, enclosing them with his own. "Don't."

Indira's heart skipped a beat as she saw that. She had known from the beginning that they shouldn't have trusted him, but she had tried in vain to make her Queen abandon this rather bold plan of winning Burak for them. They had been playing right into his hands. He would turn them over to his dark master for sure. Now, all was lost.

But instead of overpowering Rovannah, Burak just lowered their joined hands to the Queen's lap and let go. "Maybe we should wait with that. I don't want him to discover you because of you using magic. We need a plan to free your son and Tanith. There is still time to uncover my true identity once we have reached safety."

Rovannah smiled and Indira closed her eyes in relief.

*****

"Kneel!" ordered Jad, who stood behind her, for a second time since they had entered the wagon of Ramon.

Leigh just glared at the smug-looking man in front of her and stubbornly stood her ground. "I will not," she said, gnashing her teeth in anger.

Greatly amused, Ramon smoothed his moustaches and goatee. Raising an eyebrow, he smirked at his captive. "A defiant one. How I like those. In case you haven't noticed, knight, you are in my wagon. My rules apply in here and I punish those who don't obey them."

At a nod from him, the guard behind her kicked strongly against the back of her knees.

Biting back a groan of pain, she fell to the floor.

"You may leave now, Jad. I don't think that he would try anything," Ramon said, dismissing the guard, his smirk never fading. It turned into a cheeky grin. "You see? Follow the rules and you will be spared further humiliation, my brave, little knight."

The last words made Leigh's skin crawl and her face flushed. Alannah had always used it as endearment. Did he know about that or was he just ridiculing her? Fighting down a wave of furious anger that erupted in her belly, she snarled, "Why am I here? What do you want?"

Leaning back against the massive oak wood desk, Ramon crossed his hands in front of his chest, looking down on his captive. "I want to know the truth," he stated simply.

"About what?"

"This." Reaching into a tiny pouch that hung from his belt, he produced the white ring, holding it between index finger and thumb for Leigh to see.

She recognized the pearl of Zimahil immediately. "My wedding band!" the knight exclaimed, struggling to rise. It took some effort with her bound hands but eventually she managed to get back on her feet. "Give it back to me!" Once standing, she attempted to walk towards him.

Closing the hand that held the ring tightly around the piece of jewelry, Ramon held up the other hand, forestalling her. "Take one more step and you will regret it. It only takes a snap of my fingers to bring the guard back."

Leigh froze in her tracks, staring at him. Her eyes blazed with rage and her lip curled in disdain.

"Well, well. So tell me, what kind of treasure am I holding in my hands?"

"My wedding band," Leigh seethed. "My wife inherited it from her mother. It is a family tradition to pass it down."

Ramon's eyes were caught by the pendant that had slipped from below the knight's armor. His eyebrow rose. "Interesting. The sign of Denora." He moved closer, wishing to inspect the newly revealed jewelry, but then decided against it. Though weak, there was no way of telling what dirty tricks the knight might have up his sleeves. "You and your lovely wife are from Slidur?"

"What does it matter to you where we are from?" Leigh snapped, keeping her eyes on him, while trying to free her hands from the tight bonds. Her wrists were rubbed raw in a matter of seconds and she had to stop.

Ramon stroked his goatee in thought. "You are right. It doesn't matter to me at all. So let's go back to my original question. Tell me about your ring."

"It is my wedding band," Leigh stubbornly repeated.

Ramon cocked his head. "You actually think I'm going to believe that lame story? None of my men were able to tell me what material it is made of. It looks like ivory, but it is not. I know that your wife is a magic-wielder. So, what is it? A magical device? What can it do? How does it work?"

"It is my wedding band," Leigh said again, stressing each word.

The man sighed exasperated. "Now listen to me. You have already met Jad and Vic and believe me until now they have been rather nice. They are masters at inflicting pain and once they start with you... let me tell you that a quick death would be merciful."

Leigh chuckled. "I think that Vic will nurse his arm for quite a long time. That is if gangrene won't take care of it first. Animal bites take a long time to heal."

The punch came so fast that she had no time to dodge it. A fist connected with her jaw and the force of the blow sent her sprawling to the floor. Blood gathered in her mouth and bright spots were dancing in front of her eyes. There was a strange ringing in her ears and the oblivion of unconsciousness was calling to her like a Siren's song, but she clung to reality.

Ramon looked down at his captive, rubbing his sore knuckles. He was glad he had not broken his hand. This fragile-looking boy seemed to be a lot stronger than he had anticipated. "This was just a small taste of what we have in store." Grabbing the front of the armor, he pulled the knight into a sitting position. "I hope this little lesson loosened your tongue."

'I'm glad it didn't loosen any teeth,' Leigh thought to herself as she stared into the bearded face hovering in front of her. She could feel that her lip had split. 'That felt like a kick from a horse.'

"I will ask you one more time. What is the secret of the ring?"

Instead of answering, Leigh spit the blood that had collected in her mouth right into his face. "Go to hell!"

"Tremendously charming, but the wrong answer," Ramon muttered, letting go of the knight's armor to wipe at his face.

Groaning, Leigh staggered to her feet once more.

"That was your last chance. Maybe your lovely wife will be more talkative after some hours of... persuasion." The last word was said with a leer. "What do you think about that, my brave little knight?"

She knew he was goading her and it wouldn't be a bright idea to attack him in her weakened state, but enough was enough. Ramon would pay for everything. The knight lowered her head and charged like an angry bull, attempting to ram him and tackle him, despite her bound hands. Shouts from outside could be heard, but Leigh was only dimly aware of it for the blood was rushing strongly in her ears.

Surprised by the sudden attack, Ramon found the breath knocked from his lungs as the knight's body impacted. A mass of tangled limbs, they crashed into the desk.

The thug was the first to get his bearings and gasping, he shoved the disoriented other off him.

Leigh's world was turning in front of her eyes and her head pounded painfully.

The door flew open and Jad burst into the wagon. "Ramon! I told you I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. I was right! We are surrounded! We... " he trailed off, taking in the strange sight. Ramon and Leigh were lying on the floor, though his leader was looking livelier than the captive. "Ramon! What happened?"

Waving his hand, the bearded man indicated for the guard to come closer and help him up. "I have everything under control. But what are you babbling about? What do you mean we are surrounded?"

Jad swallowed hard and he actually looked a bit frightened. "I believe that the Women of Kharas have found us."

Ramon straightened his clothes, which looked a bit unruly from the fight with the knight. The smirk was back on his features and he smoothed his moustaches. "Good. Time for business." Pointing a thumb behind him, he continued, "Have Neva make him look a little more presentable for our guests."

Jad disappeared with a nod.

Striding cockily over to the knight, Ramon squatted next to him. "A new life will soon start for you. Since I am not a heartless man, I will let you say goodbye to your lovely wife, my brave little knight, before your new mistresses will enjoy you to the fullest." Laughing loudly he left.

Neva appeared a moment later to help her up. Giving Leigh a bright smile, she whispered, "Be prepared."

Leigh startled. The words, she had heard them before. Astonished, she stared at the woman's scarred face. "What..."

Neva winked briefly. "Denora is with you."

*****

Continued...