WHAT AARIUS THOUGHT to be a small alcove chamber turned out to be the ingress to a much larger and vast meeting hall.

One with much decor and pomp.

A tower room where long flowing tapestries with the standards of Riagon's various military units hung from the walls and a series of heraldic shields attached to pristine podiums encircled the room.

In the center, artwork depicting the Spear of Gallant of the House of Gallant as well as Riagon Nors Herald, The Shield and Spear was emblazoned across the floor.

There were no couches here. No feasting tables. No opulent rugs. Just straight back chairs, one for each podium, pressed against the wall.

The men in the room, five in all, tall and formidable all turned at once to face the three entering, causing Aarius to shrink back. Riagon took him by the arm and brought him forward, walking him to an immense stoop that supported a carved wooden throne draped with sheers of fine linen, and beneath it the only rug to speak of in the massive room being the pelt of some large and hairy beast, and Riagon led him to the step where he made him to sit down, below the collosal structure.

With this, Riagon turned and bade the men to ensconce their podiums, which they did and looked to Neris waiting for him to speak.

Aarius watched as the bearded elder, their King, raised a hand to garner their attention and address the small group.

"Please, please," he clapped. "Impromptu as it is, we have a duty to follow every lead in the fight against Medgar. As of this time, Helkild and Skaenn are still absent so we will make this short and recur later when they return. Our initial council was to address a new revelation brought to Odric many days hence but alas as you know, that unforeseen situation occurred and my daughters contingent enroute to Delthir Pel was set upon by Medgar's henchmen mages. Rumors reached our ears from Tarn that bodies washed up in Crescent Cove and after questioning that brutish Terthil we have confirmed that Medgar has indeed lost control of our Grellian children and this is but one of the young Grells that rode in with Magne, on the night of Tamsins search of Crescent Cove,"

Aarius could take no more of this, feeling the sudden rush of the heat of anger crawl up his neck to his face and before he could think better of his actions he stood to his feet and a shout left his lips and echoed across the tower room.

"NO MORE!" He yawped, grabbing his head with both hands. "I am known ONLY as Aarius! AARIUS of the Grail!" He told them pounding a fist to his chest. "I swear these words to you upon my mother's own life! These are the words she spoke to me! I AM NO Grell and Medgar lost his magic over the children because of me I tell you! It was I who turned Medgar into a shadow bane and I who escaped!"

Seven sets of eyes turned suddenly to look on him with hardened expressions and thin lipped offense.

Neris looked at Riagon and they were both speechless. A deep murmur erupted among the men present and a couple of them took steps toward Aarius but Riagon halted them.

"Take your seats!" He shouted. "We shall hear the words of this...," he looked for a long time at Aarius, "Yes, we shall hear this young man now," he nodded in Aarius' direction and stepped back next to Neris.

Perhaps they were not quite as colorful as Terthil in their surprise of his story, but he was no pawn in anybody's mission, not Terthil nor these mercenary factions and Aarius told them just that.

Neris stood back listening to the exchanges between this Aarius and Riagon's men. Mainly because he was speechless and otherwise because he had seen something that struck him as very odd when this Aarius grabbed at his head and pulled his long auburn lochs away from his face. They were tiny to be sure and almost illegible. As if they had been carved there on the skin of an infant.

Neris felt his blood leave his face. He knew of only one, one such single civilization, which performed such a brutal ritual, but could it be? He reached out and grabbed Riagon's shoulder to steady himself.

"Sire? Are you unwell?"

"Nay, nay tis late is all, and my eyes are surely playing tricks upon me."

"Tricks Sire?" Riagon answered absently his attentions still on the unfolding story being told by this mere wisp of a man.

Suddenly Neris was holding up his hand.

He straightened his back and walked up to Aarius where he stood on the small stoop where Riagon had sat him earlier. He moved in between the men who now stood encircling this strange young man who defied all logic by simply existing.

Neris approached Aarius and looked up into his eyes of silver cobalt, reached up and pushed back the stringy, dirty mass of hair hanging over his forehead and gasped.

Neris fell back, stumbling into the arms of Korian and Tarn for support.

"Tis true...," he mumbled. "Tis true."

"What Sire? What is true," asked Riagon who had followed him over.

When Neris simply stared, Riagon trailed his gaze. "Sire! Please!"

Neris reached up and pointed to Aarius. "Yes, Riagon. By the Odes of Mithras tis true," he whispered. "He is, not a Grell, for he, is a Stone-Cipher."

Odric Grald, Korian Grald, Tarn Mogeimm, Augg Mithelr and Thig Delvern all turned in stunned silence, to look at Neris with varying degrees of more stunned silence.

"Do you, King Neris, have even a mite of a notion of what you are saying," Riagon blurted.

"I do Riagon Nor. But the more pressing question is, do you?

~

It took four men to hoist Eiliq Clack onto the war horse. It was either that, or he should have to walk, with his hands tied up and tethered to Neswren for the journey back to Blade Shield.

Of course, he argued vehemently with both Neswren and Helkild that he, Eiliq Clack had nothing to offer in the way of information and accused them all of sorcery and evil intentions toward him.

Helkild had simply laughed saying that Riagon would never go to these lengths when he could simply have told Neswren to kill Eiliq and be done with it all.

To that bit of information Eiliq spat on the ground at Helkild's feet but truth be told the words haunted him.

Helkild stepped forward menacingly but Fynna had taken hold of his arm and stopped him from whatever form of retribution he'd about to inflict upon poor Eiliq.

She received no thanks from the trade master for her intervention and hid a smile at his huffing and puffing and snarling curses as the men lifted him and threw him over the mounts back stomach first where he lay, breath heaving with all the exertion.

Neswren then shocked Eiliq further by fastening his tied up hands together with his feet by looping the long rope right under the belly of the prancing, nervous equine and pulling it tight.

"Have you gone daft!" Eiliq shouted into the side of the horse. "Loose me you cursed wretch! Sit me upright! I'll not travel like this!"

"You'll certainly travel thus Eiliq. I've need to make haste and I'll not have the likes of you slowing me down by trying to escape!" Neswren growled. "So calm your hackles or find yourself running to keep up."

Eiliq's head dropped and his body sagged in defeat. "I'll see you drawn and quartered by the reckoning of Mithras, you odious swine," Eiliq grumbled into the horses side. His nose wrinkled from the lathered stench of horse hair.

"I heard that Eiliq," Neswren replied. "Be mindful of the heart of the one you evoke, to whether it be goddess over the master or merely master over the goddess for well you may find yourself flat on yer back in the executioners quarter pit."

With those final and threatening words Neswren came back to Eiliq, cut off a piece of his tunic and stuffed it in his mouth. He'd not be listening to likes of Eiliq's ranting threats all the way back to Blade Shield. They had other dangers to attend to.

The sun had begun to rise already, sending orange rays of light upward like a crown over the Loch and Neswren was anxious to be off.

Helkild, Skaenn and their men had been ready since dawn along with Fynna and Neswren had been overjoyed by that discovery to say the least.

By leading the contingent to Blade Shield with Fynna as well as Eiliq, Neswren could only imagine the fame and accolades he might receive and the thought spurred him to pick up the pace to a steady gallop, much to the discomfort of Eiliq.