Ambushed. Baudwin cursed himself to the darkest recesses of the Nether Realm and back. He should have seen it. They had all been too complacent. Too sure of their victory after the death of Lord Delen. When the western lords had asked to concede, it had seemed like the end was finally upon them. Unfortunately, the mage and his band of followers—all zealots of the Dark God, from what he could tell—had other ideas. They had attacked when the lords and Baudwin met, killing most of the men and capturing him. Had Aurelian made it out? He didn't know.

Sitting in the mud with his back against a wagon wheel, he glared up at the tall ginger-haired mage who seemed to be the leader.  He'd never seen him before, but considering that Rhiannon's former lady's maid, Ailla, stood next to him, he felt fairly certain the Son of Deva had sent him. What were they hoping to gain by capturing him? Why had they not killed him straight away?

He shivered. The mud was cold and wet, the dampness seeping into his clothes and chilling his bones. A cold wind swept through the camp, ruffling the hair of his captors. After the massacre of the western lords and Baudwin's party, the armies had scattered, leaving behind a trampled field with a few forgotten pieces of gear and the bodies of their former leaders. The mage hadn't even allowed them the courtesy of taking the bodies home for a proper burial with their families. His eyes wandered over the bodies on the ground, searching for well-known faces. His guards, his knights.

Fighting back a sick feeling, he took a deep breath. It was all his fault they were dead. He should have known better. Should have predicted this. In the fray, he'd not been able to see exactly what happened, who had made it out and who had fallen. The mage had thrown him off his horse, tossing him across the field and away from his group. He shook his head, refusing to succumb to the grief of losing so many good men. 

"What are you hoping to gain?" he asked, hoping to garner the attention of Ailla or the mage.

The blonde woman turned her head to grin at him, a harsh laugh escaping her lips. "Does your wife not tell you anything? We want the Godstone she has!"

Of course. Among all the other revelations of the past couple of days, the existence of the Godstone was probably the one he had cared the least about. Maybe he should have paid more attention to it if it was important enough that the Son of Deva would keep him alive after having wanted him dead. It certainly sounded ominous enough.

"And you hope to trade me for it?" he guessed.

Ailla sauntered over to him while the ginger mage stayed a few steps away, though he was observing them. "Yes. She loves you and was willing to risk her life when I told her to kill you. I expect she will hand it to us willingly, trading it for your freedom."

"No." He shook his head. "If it's as powerful as I understand it to be, she would never do that. The fate of the world is more important than my life."

"People do foolish things for the ones they love." It was the tall mage speaking. "She may care more for you than nameless people she has never met. It fits what we know about her."

"Why do you think she loves me?" She had never told him she did. At least not with her words. He frowned at the intrusive thought. Did his wife love him? He'd thought she might one day if things had continued the way they were. But that was before he found out she'd married him under the threat of her secret being revealed. Her many secrets.

"I've seen the way she looks at you. That is a woman in love." Ailla crouched before him, taking his jaw in one hand and tilting his face up towards hers. "I can see why. You're a handsome man."

Unable to push her away with his hands tied behind his back, he pulled his head back, wrenching free of her grasp. The move only made her chuckle. "Don't be like that. It's a compliment."

"Rhiannon isn't shallow enough to love someone for their looks alone."

"Of course not. But it helps." Standing back up, she ruffled his hair, making his skin crawl.

"And here she is..." The tall mage smiled for the first time, a chilling stretch of his mouth that didn't add any warmth to his cold blue eyes.

Baudwin followed their gazes and saw the silhouette of a rider approaching. It could have been anyone, but the golden-red hair flowing behind her, glowing like embers in the waning sunlight, gave her away. No. He didn't want her there. She shouldn't put herself in danger for him.

They watched in silence as Rhiannon came closer, reined her horse in a few yards away and dismounted. Her face paler than normal, and with her mouth a grim line she looked tired yet resolute. She didn't look at him, instead keeping her eyes on the tall mage.

"Did you bring it?" he asked tersely.

"Yes." Her gaze flitted over to Baudwin for a mere moment before returning to the mage. "Do you promise his safety?"

"We will allow him to leave her with you." There was an unmistakable implication that there were no promises beyond that point, and Rhiannon frowned. The mage shrugged, a stiff smile playing on his thin lips. "Son of Deva is not pleased with you. I cannot guarantee that he will not eventually seek retribution."

"The assassination plot?"

"Lord Delen is gone and so are the other western lords." He motioned towards the bodies strewn across the ground. "We gain nothing by removing the king from power at this time. I hear he does not remember the face of Son of Deva, so we no longer consider him a threat."

How did they know that? From the slight widening of Rhiannon's eyes, Baudwin realised that she thought the very same thing. He had thought Ailla was their only eyes and ears in the castle, but it would seem he was mistaken. Had Son of Deva infiltrated every court in Erya? Who could they trust?

When Rhiannon made no move, the mage took a step towards her. "Hand it over!" he snapped impatiently.

"I told Ailla repeatedly that I do not have it here." Rhiannon took a step backwards, keeping the distance between them the same.

"And I never believed you." The former lady's maid crossed her arms over her chest as she regarded her former mistress shrewdly. "An item that powerful is not something you put aside. The risk of someone stumbling across it is far too great. It must have come to Ossol with you."

"Son of Deva can't have it," Rhiannon said. "Do you not realise what he will do with it? Once he gathers enough of them, he will release Deva from his crystal prison, and together they will shatter the veil between realms and free the Dark God from the Nether Realm! This goes far beyond not wanting a High King of Erya and wanting every kingdom to rule itself without a sovereign!"

The mage let out a dark bark of laughter. "That is what we want." He grinned, his eyes burning with a deep passion. "The Dark God was imprisoned falsely. When we free him, he will right the wrongs in the world."

"He will bring chaos and destruction on the world! Have you not seen what Deva's army did when it was set loose upon the world? What do you think will happen when there are more of them? All the monsters trapped in the Nether Realm with Ondastos set free at once?"

"A new world will dawn, a world where the Dark God rules and looks upon those of us who helped him with favour." The mage was not to be convinced, a zealot of the Dark God, not a mere follower of the Son of Deva. His brow furrowed as he glared at Rhiannon. "I suggest you hand over the Godstone if you want your husband alive."

She fidgeted, her eyes flicking between Baudwin and the mage.

"Don't!" Baudwin couldn't let her do it. "No matter what, you cannot give them the stone. My life is not worth the cost!"

"Silence!" The mage turned to him, his face dark with anger, and he made a sweeping movement with his hand. Baudwin screamed as the bones in his left leg shattered as if crushed under a boulder.

"No!" Rhiannon dashed towards them several steps, but stopped in her tracks, staring wide-eyed. It took him several moments to see through the pain enough to realise that Ailla had jumped behind him and had one hand in his hair and another on a dagger at his throat.

"Give us the stone," the mage said again. "Or he's dead. You might overpower one of us, but not both. Not in time to save him."

One of her hands flew to the medallion she wore, and Baudwin realised she was crying. He tried to shake his head, but Ailla's grip on his hair was like a vise.

"Don't," he forced out, the knife pressed against his throat making it difficult to speak.

She looked at him then, tears streaming down her face. Fumbling with the medallion, she got the locket open and retrieved a green stone. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I can't watch as they hurt you."

The mage's eyes burned with intense yearning as he stared at the stone. "Hand it over," he demanded.

"No!" Baudwin tried to move away from Ailla, but the movement made a white-hot spear of pain shoot from his leg and he had to bite back another scream.

Rhiannon weighed the stone in her hand for a moment, then with a look of determination she pulled her arm back and threw it as far as she could in the opposite direction. The mage let out a roar as he dashed after it and before Baudwin knew what had happened, Ailla was thrown away from him, her body hitting the ground several yards away with a loud thump. Rhiannon ran up to him and untied his hands while the mage was on his knees in the mud, searching for the stone.

"Can you stand?" she whispered urgently.

"I... I don't think so." He hated to admit it, but with his good leg now broken, there was no way his old one would carry his full weight. Glancing over to where Ailla had landed, he noticed that she'd not got back up. Was she dead?

"We'll figure something out," Rhiannon promised as she scanned the area. The other zealots had disappeared earlier with the armies, and they were the only ones left on the field.

"You shouldn't have given him the Godstone."

She smiled grimly. "I wouldn't worry about that."

The mage let out a howl as he picked up the stone and wiped the mud off with his robe. Then his eyes widened, and he turned his face to stare at them, blue eyes flashing in dark fury. "What is this?" he roared. "This is a regular stone! I could have sworn I saw the Godstone when you held it!"

Rhiannon stood, placing herself between Baudwin and the mage. "During my time with Devin, he taught me some of your dark magic tricks," she said. "Like how to make someone see what they desire most. For you, it was the Godstone in my hands."

"Give me the real stone!"

"I don't have it any longer!" She raised her chin in defiance. "I would never risk it ending up in the hands of Devin again. It's gone. It's far beyond your reach by now."

"Where is it?" The mage's voice was an octave higher than usual as anger and frustration seeped into it. He waved his hands and a spear of lightning shot towards them. Rhiannon flicked it away as if it was no more than a fly, and it hit the wet mud and fizzled out with a hiss. If the ease with which she had deflected it fazed the mage, he didn't show it. Instead, he fired off several others, his arms flailing wildly. They all met the same fate.

Baudwin stared at his wife, unable to quite believe how skilled she was. When he found out she'd been an adept at Highglaive, he'd never thought much about her magical abilities. Seeing her use them so easily was humbling. With her brow furrowed in concentration and her golden-red hair swaying around her as if caught in a wind, she was quite a sight.

When the mage faltered, chest heaving from exertion, she took a step towards him and jabbed forward with her palm. He fell backwards as if pushed by a powerful force, falling into the mud. He cursed as he sat up, but didn't try attacking again.

"Kill me then," he dared her. "I can tell you're much more powerful than Son of Deva let us know. Or did he not know?"

"It's possible that I never fully showed him the extent of my powers," Rhiannon allowed. "But no, I will not kill you. I need you to deliver a message."

The mage scowled. "What?"

"Tell Devin that he will leave us alone. The Godstone is gone. I no longer have it, and where it is he can never retrieve it. If he makes any attempt at Baudwin's life or anyone in his family, I will tell everyone everything I know about him, including what he looks like. He knows exactly what I know, and I suspect he wants me to remain silent. This, I will do for the safety of my new family, but nothing further. All my life I've hidden one way or another. I will hide no longer. If Devin wants to burn the world, he will have to go through me first."

"How can we trust that you won't tell, anyway?"

"You can't. But you have no other options."

Growling, the mage stood and with a last look to Ailla's unmoving body, he moved over to one of the horses left on the field and mounted. Rhiannon didn't move until he was nothing more than a spot on the horizon, then she finally turned back to Baudwin and kneeled next to him. Lifting her hand, she cupped his cheek and smiled sadly.

"Come," she mumbled. "Let's get you home."

Baudwin nodded, and with her help, he tried to stand up. The pain shooting through his body from his shattered leg made the world spin around him, and the next moment everything went dark.

~~~~~~