“Rider!” cried Malone, pointing ahead of them. “Coming in our direction.”

     Three days had passed since their departure from Tollawen and they had almost reached the border of that strange, nature loving country. The Brigadier had spent every rest stop reading through the translations of the Hetin books, reading them aloud for Malone’s benefit, and they had learned many new and astonishing things about the vanished civilisation, but nothing to equal what they'd found out that first day.

     Much of it was deeply puzzling, though. Many of the words couldn't be translated, and even where they could be, the author assumed that the reader shared a common cultural context with him. He assumed that the reader was familiar with concepts and institutions that Malone and the Brigadier knew nothing about and so left them unexplained. Even the pictures that almost completely filled some pages were no help. What were they to make of a group of happy people, one with unusually dark skin, enjoying drinks around a table while a clock hovered menacingly overhead, for instance? Or a line of birds sitting on a wire while a large, angry ape wearing some kind of military uniform stared up at them from below?

     Casual acquaintances of the Brigadier usually described him as almost expressionless, but Malone had known him long enough to be able to read the slightest of frowns on his brow and the slightest downturn of his lips and he could see that the Brigadier found the pictures of happy, laughing people heartbreakingly poignant. It was a feeling he shared. They had lived in a time of wonders, a world of miracles. They had had no idea that their way of life was about to end. They could only see their world continuing forever, with ever greater miracles to replace the old ones as they grew jaded and familiar.

     "Is there a lesson there for us?" the Brigadier had wondered the evening before. "Could our world end just as abruptly? Not just Helberion, but the entire human world? The lesson, Malone, is to be vigilant. To be forever on guard against anything that might be a threat, and to gather as much information as possible so that we will know how to counter the threat when it appeares. And the threat I can see now is the callous disregard of the Radiants for human life."

     He looked up at the sound of Malone’s voice and followed his pointing finger with his eyes. "He's wearing the uniform of the Helberion Ranger Corps," he said. “Those Above! It's Cotton! What's he doing back here?”

     As the rider drew closer they saw that there was damage to his uniform that he’d done his best to repair with needle and thread and. Also, he was sitting stiffly, as if his side was paining him. When he saw them he geed his horse into a gallop and turned to come directly towards them. “Brigadier!” he gasped as he reined his horse alongside theirs. “Thank Those Above! I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to find you! This damned forest, no roads...”

     “What happened?” asked the Brigadier.

     “It was Crane! He betrayed us...”

     “What?” gasped Malone.

     “We were camped for the night. He was on guard. A noise woke me up and I saw him killing Spencer. In his sleep! He had a hand over his mouth, stuck him between the ribs with a knife. I jumped up, grabbed my weapons, yelled for everyone to wake up. Only Quill woke up. Everyone else was already dead. He'd killed them one by one without waking the rest of us up. How could he do that? What kind of man...”

     “Never mind that now,” said the Brigadier, his face grim. “What happened?”

     “Me and Quill fought him. I couldn't have taken him on my own. He had fighting skills I never knew he had. He must have had training. Some kind of Carrow assassin, deep undercover...”

     “We can speculate later. You and Quill killed him?”

     Cotton nodded. “Took a knife to my gut, but we got him in the end. We killed him together. Quill said I had to come back, to warn you, in case Carrow‘s planning to attack you as well.”

     “Are the toadstools safe?”

     “Yes, Sir. Quill’s taking them back to the palace.”

     “You should have gone with him. Making sure those toadstools get to the Princess is the top priority.”

“You're right, Sir. We weren't thinking straight. The shock of losing the others...” He wiped his brow with a trembling hand.

     “I'm sure the Brigadier understands,” said Malone, pale faced with shock. “Just hearing about it... I can't imagine what it must have been like to have actually been there. What it would have done to me.”

     The Brigadier gave him a sharp look but said nothing. “The Carrowmen have no way of knowing where we are,” he said. “They don't know we separated from the rest of you. We were in no danger. Not from them, anyway.”

     “Yes, Sir. As I said, we weren’t thinking straight.”

     “Well, you're here now. We can discuss what you should have done later. Our job now is to get back to Marboll as quickly as possible.”

☆☆☆

     As they rode, Cotton repeated his story in more detail, adding various elaborations he'd thought of during the journey. He was careful not to make himself sound heroic, knowing that telling of mistakes he'd made and deficiencies in his fighting skills would make his story more believable. He gave Quill most of the glory, therefore, even though the wizard had been far from the best fighter among them. He'd risen to the occasion like a spirit of vengeance, he said. The desperation of our situation gave him an energy and a fury that had him fighting like a madman! Malone listened with wide eyed astonishment, but the Brigadier remained stony faced throughout. He gave no indication of what he thought of the story.

     “Quill should have made his way back to Marboll by now,” said Malone. “He might already have given the toadstools to the Princess. She might be getting better already.”

     “If he made it back safely,” replied the Brigadier.

     Cotton thought of the pistol in its holster on his belt. He could draw it right now. Shoot the Brigadier before he had time to react... He put the idea out of his mind. The Brigadier was the most formidable fighter he knew, with lightning fast reflexes. He knew that for a fact, having seen him in action many times. If he suddenly pulled a gun on him, there was every chance the Brigadier would be able to draw his own weapon and shoot him down before he could pull the trigger, and even if he couldn’t, there was Malone to consider. The batman was no warrior, at least not when compared to the seasoned, veteran rangers, but Cotton couldn't discount the possibility that he might be able to shoot him down before be could turn his gun on him. No, he wouldn't risk it, he decided. He would wait until they stopped for the night, then kill them in their sleep, just the way he had before. It was the safest way.

     His mind made up, he chatted with Malone as they rode through the trackless forest, while the Brigadier, riding a few paces behind, watched them, his face expressionless.

☆☆☆

     While there had only been the two of them, Malone and the Brigadier hadn't bothered to set a watch at night, but now that there were three of them they went back to established Ranger practice. The Brigadier took first watch, but Cotton didn't get much sleep while he was standing guard over them. He was too busy planning how he was going to kill the formidable man. The man that the whole of Helberion stood in awe of. The man whose adventures and accomplishments were legendary even in Carrow.

     He would have to be fast, he knew. Even waiting until he was fast asleep, he'd seen in the past how fast be could wake up. How terrifyingly quickly he could go from being deep in dreams to being alert and on his feet with a weapon in his hand. He fretted and worried, therefore, while pretending to be asleep, and he could feel the Brigadier’s eyes on him the whole time. He didn't fully believe his story, he knew. That would make it more difficult. Still he had to try. It was his duty as an agent of Carrow.

     When it was finally his turn to stand guard, he waited a full two hours before making his move. It was an hour past midnight and the moon was high overhead, its pale silvery glow filtering through the overhead forest canopy. He watched the Brigadier carefully. He watched Malone as well, just to be sure, but it was the Brigadier he was really scared of. Yes, scared, he admitted to himself. The man was fully asleep, he was sure of it. He'd seen men who were only pretending to be asleep and he could tell the difference. He was genuinely asleep and yet he was still scared to do anything. If he even moved his hand towards his gun, the man would be awake instantly, with his own pistol in his hand, with full knowledge of how he had murdered his other men. For a while he actually considered not trying to kill him. He could just go with him back to Marboll, act the loyal soldier the whole way. When he found that Quill hadn't gotten back ahead of them, he'd think that something had happened to him after parting with Cotton. He could tell his handler that the opportunity to kill the Brigadier had simply never come...

     He cursed himself as a coward. He was an agent of Carrow, trusted and respected by his true masters. The Brigadier was just a man, and he was asleep. He moved his hand to his pistol, carefully undid the clip without making a noise. Pulled it slowly and carefully from its holster. The Brigadier made no move. He continued to breathe gently and evenly, his back to the Carrow agent. He aimed the gun at the middle of the Brigadier’s back...

     “Put it down,” said Malone.

     Cotton gave a start of surprise, spun around to see the batman aiming his gun at him. “I was just...” he began.

     “It was you who killed the others,” said the Brigadier who, true to his reputation, was suddenly facing him, with his own gun in his hand. “You were going to kill us too.”

     “I was just checking my gun. I did it quietly so as not to wake you.” The game was up, though, he knew. He could see the certainty in their eyes.

     “I asked Malone to remain awake while you were on guard,” the Brigadier explained. “I didn’t know for sure, not until this moment. Quill’s dead, isn’t he?”

     “Yes,” admitted Cotton. “It was easy, childsplay. I killed them one at a time...” He moved suddenly, hoping to catch the Brigadier off guard while he was listening to his confession. He brought his gun back up, pulled the trigger...

     The Brigadier’s gun spoke once, the bullet striking Cotton exactly between the eyes. Cotton's own bullet went wide, and then he fell back, killed instantly, hitting the ground with a heavy thump. The horses reared back at the noise, pulling against their tethers, and the trees shuddered as sleeping birds and animals were jerked awake and fled in alarm.

☆☆☆

     Malone stared at the dead man in astonishment and horror. “I didn't believe it,” he admitted. “It was a sensible precaution, but I didn't think it could possibly be true.”

     “It was either him or Crane,” replied the Brigadier, still covering the dead man with his gun. “Either way, someone we trusted was a traitor. Logically, the fact that it was Cotton is no more shocking than if it had been Crane.”

     “But if it had been Crane...” Malone couldn’t finish. He just stared at the dead man as if thinking he might get back to his feet, as if he and the Brigadier had just been playing a joke on him.

     “If it had been Crane,” said the Brigadier with uncharacteristic gentleness, “the act of betrayal would have happened hundreds of miles away, not right in front of you. You've seen dead men before, but this was someone you counted as a friend. Someone you joked with, cooked meals for. What you're feeling is perfectly normal.” He put his gun back in its holster, then knelt and examined the dead man more closely, making sure he really was dead. “We'll carry him into the trees for now,” he said. “Give him a proper burial in the morning. In his own way, he was as loyal to his true masters as we are to ours.”

     “Do you think he gave the others proper burials?”

     “No, but it's about the kind of people we are, not the kind of person he is.”

     “He destroyed the toadstools, didn’t he?”

     “I expect so, yes. Either that or just left them with the bodies. Either way, we need to get more. We're only a few days travel from Tollawen. Chances are that the toadstools grow around here as well. If they don't, we’ll have to go back for some. Now, take his ankles.”