Kress watched uncomfortably as the stores were placed on board the space boat, her mother cuddling her with a comforting arm. The delegation stood in a loose group about Gothag discussing the final points of the coming meeting with the Belgars. An air of excitement had them shuffling about, touching one another, patting backs and showing quick smiles and short laughs, masking the tension of the moment. Marc broke away from the group and came over to Kress and her mother.

"You are to take extremely good care young man," Marra's stern expression belied the smile in her eyes.

"I fully intend to mother," he replied, leaning over to kiss her cheek, "you are not to worry."

"And me," Kress frowned, "what of me? Are my concerns to be ignored?"

"Kress," Marc chuckled with exasperation, "your concerns are also mine. You know that. I promise I will do nothing to add to them. I love you and will be back proving that fact in but a few short days," he took her by the arms and gave her a tender, encouraging shake.

"Marc of Alton on the Third River, woodcarver, husband- you'd better be back in a few short days or you will find me on Belgar tracking you down," her pink cheeks, glowing from the spark of her temper made him shake his head and pull her into a crushing embrace.

"Kress. Kress you are a bottomless pit of amazement. What fool in all of Fornax would risk the wrath of such resolve." He turned to Marra, with a grin and a wink, his expression speaking volumes of his affection for her daughter.

After a brief kiss, Marra separated the two and waved Marc off to the waiting ship, "Go now young man and make this journey a swift and successful one."

Marc hugged them both again then turned and trotted back to the waiting group. Holden West was giving a final embrace to his family, tousling his son's hair and reminding him to take his place as the man of the family for the next little while. He leaned down and whispered a similar reminder to his daughter, who looked at her younger brother then back at her father with a big smile.

He and his wife clung together silently for a moment then, with diminishing, pats and caresses, Holden joined the others at the ship's entrance. With final handshakes and unheard private words, the delegation waved a last farewell and boarded the waiting ship; the throng of spectators backed away from the launching area waving the national flag and cheering the voyagers.

Tugby popped out of the hatchway and scuttled down the ramp to assume a bouncing, fussy position next to Gothag.

"What was Tugby doing on the ship?" Kress blurted, surprised at seeing him come out.

"Probably dusting and arranging," Mare Dwellen and Marra declared, laughing in unison.

"You know, we really miss him around the household," Marra mused, gazing fondly at the plump figure, batting the air with his hands and fussing at Gothag's side.

"Well you are more than welcome to come to our cottage and experience his idiosyncrasies first hand any time you wish Marra," Mare Dwellen offered. Her association with Marra had become one of close affection, stripping away any expected protocol for their relative positions.

"I think his daily attendance at the centre provides me with sufficient exposure to those thanks," Marra responded in mock relief, "Are you happy together?" she then asked.

Mare gave her a pure, satisfied smile and nodded, "More than you might imagine Marra. Tugby has been like a magic serum for my heart. Each day his consideration and devotion brings shivers to this old soul."

Marra touched her friend's arm tenderly and smiled, "I couldn't be happier- for both of you."

Kress had stepped away during their conversation, her eyes glued to the windows of the space boat. "Come back safely to me Marc," she prayed silently.

With a loud humming roar, the ship lifted smoothly away from the pad; a brief blast of air stirred the dust in the street below, coats and dresses whipped about the figures waving their wild farewells. Marc peered down from the window watching Kress, standing apart from her mother and Mare, nervously twisting the carved wooden horse he had given her when they first met.

A sinking sadness filled his heart as the ship pulled away from the planet's surface and her tiny figure gradually disappeared from sight.

*****

"Our plans are set and ready for the arrival of the ship tomorrow evening Commander," the rough looking soldier stood in front of Terron, his posture one of wary bravado.

Terron tore her horned helmet from her head and smashed it down on the table sending bits of food and dishes splattering to the floor. Long, golden hair floated in a wispy veil across her flaming cheeks and her breath came in harsh snorts.

"What I want to hear about," she shrieked, sending the soldier reeling back out of harm's way, "is the whereabouts of that weasely little swine and his daughter!"

"Wh- who, Commander?"

"KORRVAAAL you worthless idiot!" Terron leaped from her chair and yanked the long, deadly sword from its scabbard.

With upraised hands pressing the air back in front of him, the soldier eased toward the door, "Y-y-your men have been riding hard since dawn Commander. They have traced him to the home of a woman who tended his house an- and looked after the daughter." Perspiration poured down his sides as he eyed the slow arc of the sword through the air.

"AND!"

"And- and they have picked up his trail from there down toward the village of Roth. They should be there so-oow!" He winced and ducked as the streaking blade slashed through the air inches from his face.

Terron clanged the tip of the blade against the floor and heaved another blast of frustrated breath from her lungs, "You will have Korvaal and his daughter here, in this room, by sunset today or your head will become another trophy for my belt. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!"

Almost crying with fear, the soldier nodded violently and scurried like a stricken rat, to the safety of the outer hall.

********

"You have no right to keep me locked up here," Korvaal fumed, eyeing the stolid form of Isben blocking the door, "I demand you release me and my daughter now!"

"You're not going anywhere you wretched excuse for a father," Isben dropped his arms and marched across the room to tower over the cowering Korvaal, "you've placed a great number of good people in danger with your behaviour and let me tell you, any demands made in this house will be made by me," he glowered angrily, bunching his fists.

"I've done noth-"

"Silence!" Isben shouted, leaning closer, "I don't want to listen to any whining. What I want to hear is why you were at the palace in the first place, and why you want to take your daughter to that foul place."

Outside in the village, Nettie and Malla were assisting after the unexpectedly quick arrival of Bryan and Dame Wen. Covered in dust and sweat, Dame Wen recounted their breakneck flight along the Pengat border and how they had been chased relentlessly until reaching the valley of the Hollonites. Bryan was pleased to be attended to by the pretty, young Malla, who bathed the dirt and blood from the arrow wound in his arm. When she finished, with a tender touch of her fingers, he experienced a light headedness that made his thanks come out garbled.

"What? What did you say?"

So taken was he by her calm open expression that he just grinned like an idiot until she rolled her hazel eyes in amusement and walked off.

They had found it necessary to make a run for safety in the daylight hours after spotting the dust from Terron's soldiers on the road to Roth. The Pengats had seen them and given chase, lofting a barrage of arrows after the carriage, one of which had struck Bryan not too dangerously, in the arm that Malla had just finished nursing.

"Thank Reb you're both safe," Nettie puffed, hurrying around issuing orders and directions to the villagers, "I must tell Isben of the soldiers immediately."

In the few short moments it had taken Isben to make his demands, Korvaal had spilled his tale, cringing in a chair against the wall. When Nettie arrived with the news of the soldiers, Korvaal fainted dead away and the brother and sister froze in a tableau of indecision.

Finally, gathering his wits, Isben related Korvaal's treachery and their need to do something to warn the delegation from Azwan.

"But what of the soldiers?" Nettie implored.

"Fetch old Stych. I'll tell him to spin them a yarn about her father finding her here and fleeing with her or something. South into the Hollon Plains. He's a master at deceptive tales. Meanwhile, we'll pack our group into the freight wagon and leave immediately for the North- through the Coss Valley."