Date: Sat, 2 Mar 2013 05:45:12 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 21 of The Assassin's Apprentice - Gay Science Fiction

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                                    *****

                                 Chapter 21

      We follow a game trail through the brush until we're away from the
shore. It winds its way precariously westward with the meandering gait of
animals foraging for food.  But it's easier than blunting our weapons on
the undergrowth while announcing to anything that cares to listen that
we're walking through its food bowl. Parts of the trails I follow are soft
from the rains, and my boots sink into the mud.  It's tough, sweaty work,
and I trip over tangles of roots that grab at the soles of my feet with
reckless abandon.

      From everywhere amidst the canopy, monkeys hoot and howl. I spy them
jumping from limbs and hanging from branches, watching us with bewildered
curiosity. Underneath my boots the ground is moist with all things rotten
and large insects scurry across our path always on the hunt for the next
meal.

      I top a small knoll and descend only to do this over and over again
over the next two hours.  The jungle seems never-ending if not repetitive.

      The others fall-in behind me, keeping pace with my long stride. On
all sides of me stretch ferns, dripping wet with dew. The forest floor
changes to verdant moss. Rocks and tree limbs underneath this emerald
blanket create so many lumps that the whole resembles the surface of a
tumultuous ocean frozen in time.

      The monkeys pelt me with red fruit; the small pods burst open when
they strike and leave a trail across my armor resembling blood.

      After walking for three hours, I reckon it must be high noon.

      We come across a stream, and Angelaria calls for a stop.

      Truthfully, I'm exhausted.

      I wash my face in the freezing water and then drink deeply from
it. Talen's clothes are soaked through with sweat, and the joints of my
armor gleam with wetness. Talen runs his hands and face in the stream,
looks up dripping, and stares in vain at the sky which has vanished beyond
the leaves.

      Angelaria washes her feet off in the stream and says, "I'm sooo
tired."

      "Let's travel two more leagues," I tell her. "I'll feel a lot happier
if we can put some distance between us and the shore."

      Talen agrees with me.

      He empties out his water bottle and refills it.  I follow suit,
handing it to Angelaria.  She takes a long drink from it and hands it back.
"Thank you," she says.

      The monkeys howl out loud, tossing more fruit from the trees.
Angelaria puts her hand to my shoulder and lifts herself to her feet,
sliding her boots back on. "I'm ready," she mumbles.

      Talen takes lead for a while. Eventually, we're forced to abandon the
trail as it begins to bank south, which is away from our destination, so
the three of us set out to carve our own road through the forest. We wind
between trees, over stumps, and across steep embankments. Our movement's
reduced to a crawl, and my suit catches at every bramble. However, the
others aren't better off as much of their clothing gets torn by bracken or
sharp sticks.

      Around us the monkeys continue to chatter.

      Soon, the twilight begins to fade as final sunset chokes the world
with tendrils of pure darkness. What I've always regarded as night grows
imperceptibly darker and more sinister by the minute.  Angelaria casts a
spell: a bobbing light appears just above her shoulder. She gestures with
her fingers and it buzzes over Talen's head until it's out front and high
enough to illuminate the woods around us for several hundred feet.

      "You can move that thing around?" I ask.

      "Of course," Angelaria replies. "It wouldn't be much use as a light
if I COULDN'T move it around, now would it?"

      The howl of the monkeys is replaced now with the sound of the
nocturnal hunters who are awake and hungry. The jungle shifts in its voice,
and I hear the clicking of insects, the moving of snakes along the forest
floor, and the flitting of bats high above me.

      Ahead, Talen stops at the edge of a strange place in the
forest. There's no undergrowth here, only the green moss we've seen
covering the forest floor.  The tree trunks rise like naked columns up into
a starless black.

      "How eerie," Angelaria says, giving voice to my apprehension.

      I push my sopping blond bangs from my forehead so that the ends
aren't hanging in my eyes. "Maybe it's a blessing," I suggest. "It'll be
easier going over this stuff."

      Talen turns, and I can see he's scared. "I agree with her, Kian. This
is really strange. It kinda gives me the creeps, if you know what I mean."

      I gaze out into the empty forest. "Well, do you want to camp here
then and wait 'till morning?"

      Angelaria wraps her arms around herself. "Can you feel it?" she asks
me.

      "Feel what?"

      She looks out into the darkness. "The cold...the evil," she
whispers. The way in which she searches the shadows makes my shoulders
bunch. It's like she's expecting something to move; I'm standing so still
that I can hear dew dripping from the leaves.

      "Maybe it's nothing," I whisper.

      Angelaria points at her breath. "There...see? A moment ago it was
sweltering hot. N-now, I'm freezing."

      "Where are all the sounds from the forest, Kian?" Talen
asks. "Something's out there, watching us...observing what we do."

      I look around nervously, straining with my eyesight to distinguish
any detail that seems out of place.

      Angelaria steps toward me and folds her arms about my chest.  She's
trembling; I loosen my katana and watch Talen carefully. His blue eyes dart
all about, and I see the color drain from his face.

      "I can hear its breathing," he says.

      I hold my breath, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.  Then
I hear it too. It's a heavy, labored panting. The sound fills the glade
like a blacksmith working a bellows.

      "By Tethyr, what the hell is that?" I ask Talen.

      "I-I don't know," he whispers.

      I stand there, watching.  Talen stands next to me, blade held before
him.

      Then, the breathing stops.

      The sound of the forest returns along with a stifling miasma of heat.

      Angelaria pushes away from me, eyes darting wildly in every
direction. "It's gone," she says.

      Talen collapses onto his knees. "I feel sick," he utters.

      I drop my pack and pull out my small tent. I previously purchased it
in Clothol for emergency purposes. It's supposed to hold only one person; I
have it pitched in just a few minutes.

      I help Talen gather some wood. Even though all of it is moist, one of
Angelaria's spells is sufficient to get flames going within just a few
seconds. Sitting by the fire, I sparingly cut into some dried fish I packed
for us to eat; Talen cuts into a small cheese wheel, and the three of us
make a dinner there by the edge of the strange glade. As I finish, I hear
childlike laughter coming from the darkness.

      "What is that?" Talen asks, eyes as wide as saucers.

      Angelaria shakes her head. "I know it sounds like children, but it
isn't. It's probably some kind of wild animal trying to lure us away from
the fire. The animals of the Meronese coast are exotic, deadly, and quite
clever."

      "So the fire's a ring of safety then?" I ask.

      She nods. "I don't think I'd like to sleep here tonight without it."

      I look at Talen, and it's like he can hear my thoughts. Both of us
rise and get another bundle of wood so that we'll have enough to last all
night. But whatever that thing is that we felt earlier doesn't return.

      Perhaps Tethyr is watching after me.

      I sure hope that's true, because I love him with all my heart.

      In the morning, I awake sore from the rocks and with cottonmouth. I
selfishly used Talen's chest as a pillow all night, and I hope when he gets
up that he isn't miffed with me. And then it strikes me that Angelaria
isn't in our tent. Sure things were a might bit tight, but I would have
noticed her leaving. At least I like to hope this is true.

      An assassin's worst enemy is sleep.

      I pull myself out of the tent and look around in the early morning
twilight, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Above the canopy, I hear the roll
of thunder and rain pours down, trickling in streamers onto the field of
green moss spreading out before my bony toes.

      I see her then. She's not far at all and cooking something in a pan
over our small fire that somehow remains burning even though we didn't feed
it much of the night.

      I hear Talen stir in the tent behind me.

      "In a mood for a little breakfast?" she asks.

      I sit down on an ancient log riddled with termite holes and covered
in rotting lichen.  Every once in a while, drops of rain pelt us from
above; when they hit the pan it sizzles.

      Angelaria cracks open some eggs and lays out some dried meat on the
pan.  She also points to a pot of warm gruel. "It's not much, but it's the
best I can do...under the conditions."

      I taste the gruel.

      It isn't bad really.  I wouldn't recommend it to any of my friends
for a special occasion but it works in a pinch like the one we presently
find ourselves in. A moment later, Talen joins us.  "I feel terrible," he
complains. "The expression 'rode hard and put away wet' comes to mind."

      Angelaria hands him some hot tea, and I hope he doesn't notice that
my ears are red with embarrassment. "Drink this... it's my own special
blend of apples, sugar, and pure love."

      Talen sniffs at it.  "Smells good," he comments, drinking it
down. "Bit of a bite, though," he says, twisting his head about to pop his
neck.

      I point out the gruel simmering in a pot. "Try some of that."

      "Don't mind if I do," he says, ladling some into a bowl.

      "Any sign of that thing from last night?" I ask her.

      Angelaria shakes her head. "No." She looks upward and I follow her
gaze to the canopy, where the monkeys sit watching us and playing in the
rain. "They're clever little creatures," she remarks.  "That one there...it
looks like an old wise man."

      I study the fellow she's talking about.  He isn't like the others
with a great mane of gray fur and a longer than normal tail.  He howls at
me, taunting from his lofty place in the trees.

      Next to me, Talen belches and pops himself twice in the ribs with the
back of his fist. "I feel like I've had a bag of rocks on my chest all
night."

      "Sorry about that," I tell him. "I kind of used you for a pillow."

      He hugs me from behind and giggles rubbing his fingers through my
hair. "I'm just flipping you shit, pal." When he kisses my hair, I suddenly
feel that everything is now right with the world.

      After breakfast, we all gather up our packs, and I put away our
tent. Then I set out marking a path over the emerald sheets of moss that
blanket the forest floor.  Our tread's soft, muffled by the footfalls of
suede boots with leather soles falling against the ground. With me in the
lead, we make good time all morning.

      Sometime during our second break, I hear Angelaria scream. I shake
the remainder of the piss from the end of my dick and find her as rigid as
a board, pointing at the earth. "Kian," she says, "the lumps under the moss
are bones. This whole thing's a massive graveyard."

      I feel the color drain from my face. I bend down and scrape the moss
from what I previously believed were limbs made white by insects and
constant rain.

      She's right.

      Bones.

      And there's millions of them.

      Yet, after four hours we still haven't even reached the other
side. Is this some huge battlefield? Is it a graveyard?

      "What did this?" Talen asks.

      I shake my head. "I don't know anything capable of doing this. Do
you?" I turn and wait for Angelaria to answer. She's the only one here that
even has a chance of answering that question to my satisfaction.

      It takes a minute for her to regain her composure. But as
anticipated, she shakes her head no. I swallow and ask, "Is everyone
rested?" I hear a peal of thunder very far away.

      They don't answer me. Rather, they indicate by posture that they're
ready to go.

      More rain's coming.

      A storm breaks overhead fifteen minutes later, the wind whipping
through the leaves above us with such fury that the entire forest springs
alive with the sound of creaking timber. I tilt my face upward, watching
the monkeys leap from branch to branch, so frightened they ignore the three
of us. The rain falls only sparingly so, bringing with it spiders and worms
and other grotesque things from the living terrarium suspended high above
the forest floor.

      Talen falls-in beside me, his slender form bobbing along with
mine. At times, my pace is grueling, but the others don't complain even
though I can see in their faces the early signs of exhaustion.

      I call a halt for us when I stumble across a brook snaking through
the woods. It's a pleasant place, this stream, and it's enshrouded in thick
gooseberry shrubs.  I spy ferns and wildflowers, and there are thick fruits
that hang from low branches by the bubbling waters. I smell heady perfume
drifting from the lilting heads of purple buds, and I look at Angelaria
because it reminds me of women and the days when I fucked them.

      I'm hot and sticky, but cautious of bathing...of washing my skin in
the brook and taking a moment's pleasure to allow the cool touch of water
to race over my dirty skin. Talen, however, is not afraid, and I watched
him with lasciviousness as he strips down to his linens and immerses
himself with abandon.  He smiles at me...an invitation to join him for sex.

      Whatever caution I have evaporates in that grin and I relax. I
disrobe and step into the water. It's cold, but I find its chilling embrace
comforting to my chafed skin. The bottom of the brook's covered in small
smooth stones that slip between my toes.

      I dip my head into the water, letting the cold run its velvet fingers
through my hair, and I incline my head to watch Angelaria strip the clothes
away from her curvy body. I'm frozen with disbelief at this lush creature
which reveals herself to me. Even the mere gesture of holding out her hand
to drop her soiled linens seems like an erotic tease.

      I take her by the hand and the skin I touch is soft and pliant. She
doesn't speak to me, instead lowering herself in the water between Talen
and I, closing delicate eyelids and opening them only to reveal perfect
spots of color.

      It's like I'm there as a witness only to the majesty of her beauty.

      Angelaria exchanges words with Talen and laughs.

      What's so funny? I think to myself.

      Talen splashes water in my face, and it's my turn to laugh. He grabs
me by the neck, and I play with him in the water, feeling delight at his
touch and his affection. After a while, he starts to kiss me, and I press
my mouth hungrily against his. Just like that, all thoughts of Angelaria
vanish and are replaced by his tight muscular body.

      "Can I watch you blow him?" Angelaria asks Talen.

      Talen nods. "All right...that is if Kian doesn't mind," he says
mischievously.

      I kiss him on the cheek.  I don't mind at all, lover."

      I lift myself out of the water onto a nice mossy bank. By now, my
cock is starting to get hard and it rises to attention before Talen's
luscious lips.  He licks my thick shaft, cupping my huge balls in his
fingers and then plumbs my glans with such violent licking, it's like he's
a child with a licorice lollipop.  I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation
of his closed fist and the warm wetness of his mouth all over my skin.

      When I open my eyes again, Angelaria is staring open-mouthed at my
eleven inch erection.

      "What?" I finally ask, as my skinny abdomen flares with a six-pack of
muscles.

      "You're just so...big," she gasps.

      I grip Talen by the hair as I explode into his mouth with multiple
hot squirts of cum.  Somehow, he swallows it all, lapping at my dick like a
starving dog. And then he laughs, and I hug him playfully, French-kissing
him so I can taste my own semen on his lips.

      There's nothing more wonderful in all the world than sharing
something so intimate with the one you love.

      The three of us rest there for the remainder of the afternoon,
laughing hysterically at times and then falling quiet in reckless somber
thought of our individual nakedness and the fact that we no longer possess
physical secrets. Before it's over, I fuck Talen until he cums while
Angelaria watches.  She says two beautiful guys going at it are a dream
come true.

      And for her pleasure, I leave my entire load in his guts so that she
can watch it drip out of his destroyed hole over the course of five
minutes.

      "Does it hurt?" she asks Talen.

      "At first it did," he says, "but now I really love it. Kian's dick is
incredible."

      "Thanks," I say, heat rising to my cheeks.

      Angelaria kisses Talen on the forehead and smooths his sweaty hair,
removing some cum that's just below his eye with a finger that he eagerly
sucks from her skin. "What do you love the most about his gigantic dick?"
she whispers in his ear.

      Talen thinks for a moment. "I love the smell of it; when he's been
sweating and working all day. I wish there was a way his cock could smell
that way all the time, yet the rest of him was clean like after we bathe. I
want my tongue to be the only thing that cleans it. Nothing else."

      Angelaria puts finger to chin.  "There might be a way..." she says,
"I'll let you know after I've thought of it for a while. Be careful what
you wish for."

      At last, I don my killsuit, watching the others dress. Talen unfolds
a new suit of clothes made from fine silk; Angelaria dons clean linens and
black suede boots and puts on a shirt of shiny red velvet.

      "How much farther do you think the road lies?"  Talen asks Angelaria.

      "I'm not sure," she admits, "but it should be much longer."

      I sling my weapon across my back and tie it in its place just above
my belt. "Let's press on 'till nightfall."

      "And what if that thing comes again?"

      I watch the woods, alive with cawing birds and cockatiels...that
horrible breathing horror.  It's a faceless fear, and I loll my tongue
about in my mouth wondering at how I can bring myself to face such a thing.
How can I fight a monster that I can't see but for whom I can feel its icy
touch on all things around me?  To think of it at my back makes my hairs
stand on end.  I meet eyes with Talen, and I know enough about my own
facial expressions to realize that he's seeing an undeniable truth: that
I'm afraid of this terror as much as he is.

      "I don't know," I say as honestly as I can.

      I cross the brook and take lead; our small group strikes out along
the bend of a hill shrouded in deep foliage.  Heavy raindrops fall
continuously on our path, and I keep a cadence that tends to echo the thrum
of the water. We pass under bushes laden with red berries, and I wonder if
they're good to eat. But I realize if this were true, the forest creatures
would have left the limbs bare. So I brush the thought of tasting their
succulent flesh from my mind entirely.

      I travel in this silence, my eyes searching the green explosion of
life around me for any hint of a highway made by men that can take me to
Soulwarden.

      At first sunset, we arrive at the edge of a clearing where a rambling
structure of timber, bone, and clay rests with its back to the foot of a
monstrous tree. This colossal beast is so huge, its branches span beyond my
peripheral vision like a cosmos of kudzu.  A muddy road strikes out from
it, heading north through the jungle. And there's a crowd out front,
smoking and drinking, watching passers-by.

      This is the highway to Soulwarden, known by some as the wickedest
place on Garoahar.

      The locals wear loose-fitting garments, and the air's thick with the
scent of citronella, which is used to repel insects. Barn animals wander
around in the mud; pigs root their snouts in shit, and walk indifferently
amongst the throng of smelly men and their filthy packs.

      The dwelling's made sturdy enough. It has one window and one door
frame and it's warmed by a small, smoky fireplace on the south side of the
main room which is choked by men, women, and their livestock. Piles of dung
swarm with flies. They land on the sweaty necks of Nubians, some of whom
stare at me while others check out Angelaria and even Talen.

      "Do you want to see if there are any rooms?" I ask my companions.

      Angelaria nods. "It's better than sleeping out of doors."

      I walk over to a bar where a fat woman stands wiping it down with a
blood-stained rag. She looks at me curiously as I approach. "Any rooms?"

      "Not tonight," she replies, "unless, you're wanting to stay in my
chamber."

      From outside, there rises a shout of alarm, and I hear the stampede
of feet. Talen moves to a window as a column of men on horses ride into the
clearing and dismount. Four of them draw their weapons and block off the
door to the tavern. Angelaria steps into my chest and grips me by the arm.

      "Slavers," she whispers.

      I narrow my eyes to slits and watch as a tall black man in rusty
chainmail and sporting a dented camail steps into the dirty tavern room,
regarding everyone there with a curious and inspecting eye. A cold,
stifling silence fills the room.

      "I'm General Skree Amladon, and I was beginning to doubt my fellow
man's patriotism!" he sneers. "And then I stumbled across this place..."

      "We're not soldiers, Amladon!" one man shouts. "We'll not join your
fight!"

      The others nod in agreement.

      The soldier looks to his men who push past him and grab the speaker
about the arms.  He protests and tries to fight but it's to no avail.  One
of Amladon's soldiers stabs him in the gut.

      "Haul him outside and put him in the cage," Skree commands. "Anyone
else feeling unpatriotic?"

      The others in the room hold their tongues. I'm frozen, unwilling to
fight a hundred men.

      "Shackle them up," he orders. "We move out in an hour. Welcome to the
army boys."

      Several soldiers enter the inn, and one clubs me in the ribs. I might
have fought back, but Talen shakes his head, telling me to be still with
rapidly moving fingers.  They grip me roughly by my left wrist and push me
forward into a throng of bodies.

      The slavers inspect all of us, taking the sickly aside to kill them
rather than leaving people behind at the outpost. Talen and I are shackled
together by tight iron bands. We're chained to the others, a long string of
people, and made to sit and wait for General Amladon's orders to move out.
One of the slavers takes a particular interest in Angelaria, lifting her
chin up and inspecting her face.

      "This one's beautiful, milord," he says.

      The general walks over and kneads her tits. Suddenly his eyes
widen. "Lady Angelaria," he says. "How intensely gratifying it is to speak
with you again."

      "I can't say that I'm as happy to see you, general.  If you know
what's best for you, you'll take your hands from my boobs this instant."

      General Amladon grins and drops his hands to his side. "You
there...free the lady from her bonds."

      I watch this exchange with mute bewilderment.

      "Thank you, Skree," she says. "Perhaps I won't kill you now."

      He stares at her. "I can't let you go, princess. Braedir will want to
see you again. Especially since you left Soulwarden so hastily on your last
visit."

      "I was pressed for time, as I'm sure you can understand."

      "You're a dangerous woman, princess, but your father is a long way
from the shores of Meron.  I'll treat you with civility, but you're coming
along as my guest. I'm afraid that I must insist.  Are we agreed on this?"

      She purses her lips.

      "I don't want you using magic. If I have to, I'll keep you
unconscious the entire way to Soulwarden. If you don't agree to my terms,
that is."

      "How monstrous!"

      He laughs. "You know so little of how the world works, don't you my
dear?  But I'm giving you a choice.  What's it going to be?"

      She falls silent looking past him to me. "I'll cooperate," she says
at last.

      "Splendid."  He turns back to his men. "Let's march; the girl rides
up front with me."

      The slavers walk by, pulling us to our feet. We all stand, albeit
slowly, and with the rattling of chains. After a moment, we begin our
forced march down the muddy road toward Soulwarden. All around us are the
mounted men of General Skree Amladon, a hundred or more, and somewhere up
ahead in the gloom rides Angelaria who's growing more mysterious with every
footstep.

      She never told me she was a princess.

      In fact, she never eluded to anything even remotely noble. I may have
assumed too much and wrongly so. Everyone has a past, even the most
unassuming of us. Somehow, she's not only well-traveled but well-known
amongst cutthroats and thieves in Meron.

      Who is she really?

      The slaver's column progresses slowly through the night.

      Others less rugged succumb to the forced march early on. They get
released of their chains only to have the soldiers of General Amladon
trample them under their horse's hooves. However, even at my fitness level,
my muscles burn and my feet ache so much that every step's one taken in
partial agony. Two hours past midnight, four men manage to escape from
their chains and make a break for the woods. Cheers rise from our column
and the general calls a stop.  He orders his slavers into the woods after
them, and we all watch breathlessly as the ranks of soldiers thin along the
road, torches weaving and bobbing between moist tree trunks and
moss-covered boulders that line both sides of the highway. The chase lasts
until sunrise when tired and frightened, the last man is run down in the
woods. They bring his body back to the road and toss it face-down in the
mud.

      It begins to rain and with it hope melts away.

      Talen and I manage some rest during the night, and they feed us (it
seems) not out of mercy, but out of necessity. I swear I'd just fallen
asleep when they order us to our feet again to resume our terrible trek
into the depths of the Mirimar. I think infrequently of Angelaria, trying
to answer the flurry of questions that come to mind each time I behold her
perfect face or think of the honeysuckle smell of her hair.

      Talen's voice calls me back to reality.

      "I think I can pick this lock, Kian," Talen states. I look down and
he shows me what he's talking about. "What about you?"

      I concentrate on the details of the lock. "Yes, I think so," I say.

      Talen nods. "When we stop for a break, we've to do it at the same
time. Understand?"

      "Yes."

      "You still have the picks I told you to sew into your shirts right?"

      I remember my early days in the guild when Talen taught me a thief is
never without equipment. "Yes."

      "Excellent," Talen says. And then we wait.

      General Skree calls his men to a halt sometime after noon. I'm
famished as I sit down on the roadside, but I don't have time to be
hungry. Our opportunity to escape is nigh at hand. One of the Slavers rides
by and in the instant his horse is between me and the others, I slip my
fingers downward and fish about in the lock with a slender metal pick. It
comes open almost instantly. The man next to me regards me with green
eyes. "Good luck," he says.

      Talen and I jump up and run breakneck into the woods.  The slavers
swear and give hot pursuit, but Talen and I are exceptionally fast. We pull
on reserves that come from our vigorous training as thieves in Clothol.

      I jump up onto a rotten, lichen covered redwood and turn to face the
mounted slaver on my heels. He draws up, surprised that I'd stopped. I leap
from my purchase and knock him off his horse. When he tries to stand, I
kick him in the face with my heel, splashing his blood onto the leaves
around us. Then I crack his head open.

      Talen spins around and draws out his sword to cut the legs out from
the rider tracking him into the woods.  The astonished slaver rolls to the
ground where Talen catches him, breaks his arm, and pins him to the earth.
The man's eyes open wide and he tries to yell for help.  Talen grins and
cuts downward with his sword, cleaving his head open and spraying bloody
brains about on the moss.

      We signal each other and run off in the same direction.

      Two more slavers catch up to us, but we kill them, hiding their
bodies in the silent woods. I drop mine in a bog of quicksand; Talen leaves
his by an ancient oak, eyes open with a look of inescapable horror frozen
on his face.

      The chase lasts for three more hours before General Skree tells his
surviving men to forget us and leave. Talen and I kill eight slavers a
piece, and I can see this has shaken their resolve. The column cheers us on
each time one of the slavers returns with the details of yet another
corpse. It's a game...this killing...and Talen and I have always been good
at games.

      By the end, we're exhausted, but remain unwounded.

      We collapse together at the foot of a massive banyan and take turns
sleeping until nightfall.  The column's slow-moving. Once we've rested,
it'll be easy to catch and hopefully, I can find a way to free Angelaria.

      That's my plan anyway.

      I just hope Tethyr is watching.


                                          *****

		   I shall post Chapter 22 next weekend.