"HAVE YOU TAKEN audience with the young man yet Neris?"

"Bah, no! He sleeps like the dead, Riagon. If I did not know different I would say he sipped one of my elixirs," Neris grumbled.

The early morning storms which had ravaged Blade Shield had long since blown over and late evening had turned to night finding Neris and Riagon standing in the semi darkness of the hall about Neris' chambers.

Neris had entered three times and three times had found the strange young man asleep, the lavish banquet Neris provided left untouched.

"Perhaps this is a good thing Neris," Riagon reasoned. "We have had no word from Helkild and Skaenn, so the longer he is here the better for us."

"You expected me to release him? I have no such intention. You heard with your own ears what that skintful jade said. King Terthil marches to Blade Shield on the now."

Neris walked away and took to that worrisome habit of pacing when his frustration reached its breaking point,
but turned and came back abruptly, his eyes alight with some sudden inspiration.

"Let us wake him and bring him down to see this Kitra locked away. Perhaps that will wake him from his stupor."

Riagon eyed him thoughtfully but said nothing. He contemplated this idea and nodded.

"Aye Neris, but let us not take him down just get. Only tell him she is here and reward him with a visit if he cooperates. Then if we are satisfied that he is of no use to us, we simply turn the both of them over to King Terthil and be done with it. Tamsin seems to think there's naught to do about any of it and just the typical squabbles of those thieving stage-players and Terthil's drunken rabblement, so it will be to our great advantage to keep Terthil in dept to our cause. If what this Kitra says is true and he is seeking power, we must keep him under our obligation."

Neris smiled. "Perhaps you are right, Riagon," he sighed. "Let us hear his story then, before Terthil arrives. I do not care for the man personally, but find it hard to see him coming all this way for nothing. What say you Riagon Nor?"

Riagon tilted his head back and laughed.

"Tis true," he chuckled, "so be it as you say. Come Neris, the men await us."

Neris nodded as the both of them made off to Neris' chambers.

But Neris had no laughter to share at the moment. He needed to find his daughter, and he had no plans to support Terthil's self appointed aspirations. If Medgar had somehow managed to lay hold of Fynna, they may never overcome that nyaff's destructive alliance in the Kingdoms of Elidurre.

~

The dark, arched wooden door swung to open slowly revealing two men standing shoulder to shoulder looking in. They were formidable looking, both tall, however the long white beard of the one reeked of old and his partner of virile strength. They had odd expressions of unbelief as they took in the vision of Aarius there at the table, his mouth so full of various foods he was unable to speak and his hands frozen in action as he was just about to snatch a handful more of some kind of berries in an ornate silver bowl.

He stared back at them with utter astonishment and a slight bit of guilt.

He had awoken rather abruptly, to the growling of his shrunken stomach and remembering that a table full of delectable foods was nearby he jumped up and began unashamedly cramming bits of every kind of food he could touch into his mouth until he could barely chew it.

The two men stepped into the room. The soldier looking rather amused and the old man, just shocked.

Aarius slowly withdrew his hand and the bearded man rushed forward.

"By all means please, continue! You must be famished. How long has it been since you had a good meal?" He inquired.

But Aarius could only smile dumbly because his mouth was so full food.

The old man waved his hand.

"Don't mind us at all then, go on, go on," he nodded turning to the soldier with a pathetic expression.

Aarius did, but refrained from the berries, instead concentrating on the task of chew and swallow. When he had finally managed to get it all down he cleared his throat and stood up, his head hanging down in embarrassment.

The soldier addressed him first.

"Aarius, I believe it is. We've come to have a word with you. I am Riagon Nor and this is Neris. You will address him as Sire."

Aarius jerked his head up. "He is also a king then too?"

The one named Riagon Nor laughed out loud. "He is THE King, yes. Not a king. There are no other Kings in the Lands. Only Neris," he replied with a flourish of his arm and a scandalous grin.

Aarius looked back as forth between them at an utter loss.

Riagon stared back and looked to Neris for help.

Neris approached Aarius and put an arm around his shoulders, tsk-tsking the young man's ignorance, guiding him toward the door.

Aarius glanced back to the food longingly.

"Not to worry there flatfoot, we'll bring ye' back to your table. Now come along with us because I have need to speak with you ah, concerning Terthil, and oh, of course, I'll be needing to know just who you are as well."

Aarius went along with them down a long hall and onto a curving tower stairwell which took them down two floors to the grand hall he had been in before being whisked away to the bed chambers and left on his own. He had walked the floor for hours, looking at the various odd and usual items displayed around about the quarters but soon tiredness overtook him and he had lay on the massive down-filled bed mat and went straight out to sleep. He had no idea how long he slept only that when he woke up he was starving...

They passed though the great hall and entered yet another maze of dark halls and alcoves until apparently reaching the place this Neris desired to go.

It was a small room in comparison to where he had been but, what they could possibly want from him he could not fathom.

~

Eiliq Clack watched the mercenary soldier approaching his abode with great trepidation, wringing his beefy hands together almost subconsciously.

A humid fog lay across the marsh stifling the sound of thundering hooves and sweat tricked down from his forehead dampening his tunic around the neckline.

He had a bad feeling about this because experience told him, Riagon never sent his messengers alone. To do that was to put a target on the head of one of his prized possessions.

His mouth became dry with panic and he stumbled backward, tripped and fell, rolled over and clawed his way back to his forge where he kept his urn of ale.

Using the forge anvil Eiliq heaved himself to his feet, knocking a still glowing hot sword he had been hammering to the ground where it landed on his right foot burning a hole straight through his cloth slippers to the skin. He screamed a curse and kicked it away as he tried to brush the dust from his bloated stomach and failing he gave up and reached for the urn.

Normally he would pour himself only a small cup of the yill, but at this moment he picked up the metal urn with both hands and turned it straight up gulping it as fast as he could but spilling much of it out the sides of his mouth to stain his already dirty and damp shirt dress.

No, he thought haphazardly, this could certainly not, be a good sign. After all, King Terthil's yill was expensive.