Brother Unher's map indicated that once Alam and Tajar came to the great pine forest of the north they were to find, and follow, a wide ravine. Where the ravine meets the feet of the mountains they would cross the river and reach a clearing that hunters use as a base of operations. From there they were to enter the third valley to the east of the clearing. After that it would become complicated. The map indicated crossing rivers, following goat trails, climbing mountain ridges, and lining up stars at night for bearings.

On the morning of the second day out from Lasthome they reached the eaves of the vast pine forest. The forest clung to suddenly up-sweeping hills which gave way to ragged mountains that, even in late summer, were crowned with white. Tajar easily followed the horse tracks that hunters before them had made. These skirted along the line of trees for a short period of time until they reached the wide ravine referred to on the map.

It was terrain the likes of which neither of them had encountered before.

"I had no idea there were so many trees in the world," Alam gaped.

A noisy, and full, river flowed out of the treeline and into the Plains. Behind it was a gash in the land carved by the river over countless centuries. The steep ravine was littered with fallen trunks of pine. Tajar and Alam nudged their horses into the forest along the trail that ran on the precipice of the ravine.

"It's alright girl," Tajar patted his compact horse's neck. She kept jerking her neck nervously to the side so that she could see the rough path bordered by the treacherous drop on its side. Mist moved forward with the same easy confidence she did on the flat.

"Why don't we go a bit deeper into the forest?" Alam suggested.

"The risk of getting lost is worse than the risk of falling," Tajar replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Not really," Tajar admitted as he urged his horse forward up the trail.

Alam asked a question that had been heavy on his mind ever since Tajar's health had been restored. "Do you think Urlock will ever let me back into the clan?"

"Yes, I do, but you'll have to do something special. He would look weak if he just changed his mind over nothing."

"What kind of thing will I need to do?"

"I don't know. It will have to be something big."

"Do you think killing a hellcat is big enough?"

"Maybe," said Tajar. "I can never tell what he's going to like or not like. One minute he's yelling, the next he's giving out horses."

"What about Shaleh? Do you think she and Nurlan are married yet?" Alam asked.

"If not, they will be soon. Alam, you have to put her out of your mind. There is nothing you can do about her."

Alam felt sick as he remembered Shaleh and Nurlan laughing and twirling in front of the fire.

***

The sky was darkening from orange to violent red.

"Behold!" shouted Emerek. "Lasthome is before us! We need fresh food and spare horses. Barter with your swords. The sky tells us it is a night for blood!"

"Yes, Lord!" his bloodknights shouted back in unison.

"Leech!" he singled out the wiry, weasel-faced bloodknight behind him. "Come with me. I need a life. A young one who is healthy and whole."

"Yes sir," the man smile.

"Be lightning and fire!" Emerek again addressed the rest of his bloodknights. "Let no-one slow you down! We meet at the far end of the town!"

They stormed into town at full gallop. The knights paired off, jumped from their horses, and burst into prosperous-looking homes; they would be more likely to have full larders to plunder. Emerek and Leech rode forward scanning for a life. Screaming and shouting erupted from the raided homes behind them.

"Wait!" Emerek pulled on the reins. "There!" He pointed to a temple of Trisen. "We will start our search there."

Leech spat on the ground. "Gladly," he smiled menacingly. He dismounted and drew his curved sword.

The screaming in the town caught the attention of those in the temple. Men and women came running to the door to see what was happening. Leech was there to meet them. He cut down the first two to get in his way. Blood splattered across the threshold of the temple. Shock and panic took over. The other temple-goers retreated back inside screaming. Some of them pulled out long blades to defend themselves. Leech entered after them slowly. Emerek waited outside patiently. He knew that none of the peasants and caravan rats would withstand his man.

All around the street people were running for safety. Doors were barred, windows shuttered, mothers screamed their children's names in fear. Emerek chuckled to himself. Their little efforts were pointless. Emerek swung his head around. Inside the temple the sound had suddenly changed. It was the sound of silence. It only lasted a couple of seconds before Leech's voice cried out in heart-rent anguish. Leech burst out the temple door clutching his head as he wept. He blindly missed the steps and tumbled to the ground where he rolled himself into a ball of heaving tears.

"Damn," Emerek cursed. Ignoring the fallen man he fixed his eyes on the door while rolling his hands over each other in complicated movements.

"Forgive me... forgive me..." Leech whimpered. Emerek stepped over him and climbed the steps. As he approached the doorway he could see a middle aged couple standing in the centre of the room. They held simple wooden staves to the floor in front of them and were chanting.

"Priests," Emerek snorted. He raised his leg to cross the threshold into the temple. In perfect unison the two priests thrust their staves towards him. A wall of force slammed into him and threw him from the steps. He landed hard. The wind was knocked from him. Blood trickled from his nose. By the time he had raised his eyes to the temple threshold the middle aged male priest was hurtling down the steps towards him. His staff swung through the air. Emerek rolled. The staff clipped his shoulder. Pain lanced through him. He hoped the cracking sound was the staff, not his shoulder blade. No time for subtlety. Emerek sloppily rolled his hands and pointed at the priest's head. He shouted the power word. It should have killed the priest. Instead the priest grabbed his head and collapsed to his knees. Emerek stood up and rolled his hands more carefully this time. His shoulder was useless, making him slow and clumsy.

"Die!" he shouted as he pointed to the man's chest. Nothing happened at all. Something must have interupted the spell. Emerek swung his head back up the steps to the temple. The woman priest was chanting on the threshold with her staff on the top step. She thrust her staff forward. Emerek was ready this time. He clapped his hands together in front of him like an arrowhead. The wave of force hit but passed around him harmlessly. He swirled his left hand over his right. The woman went stiff.

"You are mine!" Emerek shouted.

Hannah's muscles stiffened. She knew she was in trouble. Blackness crept in the sides of her vision but not before she saw herself tumble helplessly down the steps. She was unable to prevent her fall. Her head struck a step heavily and blackness overtook her.

***

Hannah regained consciousness. Even before she opened her eyes, she heard the weeping and apologizing of the thin bloodknight she and Iwan had afflicted. She could feel rope cutting into her ankles and wrists behind her. The long grass she lay on was soft and cool. Her head throbbed, and when she opened her eyes one of them only opened half way. A small fire crackled in front of her. On the opposite side of it the sorcerer's shaved head reflected the yellow of the fire. He saw her eyes open and stood up scowling. A handful of barbarous bloodknights rose up with him and looked down on her. The weeping bloodknight was curled up shaking on the grass near her feet. Iwan's body, dirty and dusty, lay still near her head. His unblinking eyes stared at the stars above. Her stomach clenched and tears welled up in her eyes.

Iwan... What have they done to you?

"What did you do to him?" Emerek demanded as he pointed at the thin bloodknight who was weeping uncontrollably.

Hannah looked away from her dead husband and looked up at the monster of a man standing over her. "It is what he did that is haunting him," Hannah replied.

"Explain yourself!"

"When people deliberately harm others the mind puts barriers in place to justify what they have done. It lies to itself and makes excuses. It is how weak souls try to protect themselves from seeing the true extent of the pain they have caused. It helps them to ignore pity and remorse. We simply removed those barriers."

"So?"

"So he is now reliving every horrible deed he has done and experiencing the full extent of the pain he has caused others. It looks like he has a lot to relive. To a righteous soul it would have little effect, but to monsters like you it is worse than death."

"Fix it," Emerek demanded.

"It would do no good. He is a broken man now. He will never be whole again."

Emerek turned to a giant of a man on his right and nodded. The man knelt down and slit Leech's throat as if it were nothing, like cutting a loaf of bread. Leech thrashed around gurgling and was dead in seconds.

Hannah looked around the circle of bloodknights. "You do realise that he plans to dispose of you as thoughtlessly as he just did your companion?" The huge bloodknight who had just slit the throat of his compannion exchanged a worried glance with the other bloodknights.

"Gag her," Emerek commanded one of the women bloodknights.

"At least he doesn't try to deny it," Hannah said before the female bloodknight's strong hands used a piece of rope to gag her.

"I killed your man, razed your temple to the ground, and now I'm going to kill you," said Emerek. "It will be slow and excruciating. But it will comfort you to know that the life force I steal from you will help me destroy everything you hold dear. Indeed, long after you are gone stories will tell how your blood helped me find the Evara, kill her, and destroy her people. The death of thousands will be your only lasting legacy." Then turned to his bloodknights. "Hold her still."

Excitement got Emerek's heart pounding. He licked his lips as he pulled a curved knife from his belt and tested its sharpness on his thumb. He would have to use the knife slowly to draw out all the euphoric power. In the past he had rushed the sacrifice in his enthusiasm, but tonight, he promised himself, he would control himself. He muttered the words of drawing and plunged the blade down. The kick of blissful power jolted up his arms as he stole her life force and spilled her blood.

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Thank you for all the votes, comments and shares.

-Y. V. Qualls