Acting with a common purpose, the villagers hurried about packing the freight wagon and hustling the party away to safety. Stych directed everyone to carry on as usual and cunningly readied himself for the arrival of Terron's soldiers. In less than an hour they charged into the village, dust clouds roiling up like small tornadoes, horses rearing and whinnying nervously. The leader reined in opposite the seated figure of a bent old man and jabbed him rudely in the shoulder with his sword.

"You there! Where is Korvaal and his daughter?" He snarled through his face mask, steadying his skittish mount.

Stych massaged his shoulder and cupped a hand to his ear, "Eh? What's that? You want a corral and water?"

The angry soldier jumped down from his horse and, struggling to hold the reins, marched over to the seated man, "Korvaal you old fool. The man Korvaal. He came here for his daughter. Where are they?"

"Korvaal? A little man, kind of pointy faced. Wearing a green cloak?" Stych asked with eager assistance, stroking his long grey beard.

"I don't know what he was wearing," the soldier complained, "but that sounds like him. Where is he?"

Stych folded his arms and peered up at the sky, "Had a bit of a squeaky voice and walked sort of bent, like this?" He plodded in a half circle in front of the soldier, his shoulders hunched, before seating himself back down.

"Yes, yes! Where is he now? Where's his daughter?"

"Sort of had a tendency to spit when talk-"

"ALRIGHT! ENOUGH! Tell me where he is or I'll cut your blabbering tongue out!" The soldier fumed, his eyes bugging behind the face mask.

"Ah, the man and his daughter. A nasty piece of work he was, grabbed his daughter Malla and threatened a few of the women who tried to protest," Stych pulled himself slowly to his feet again and teetered before the soldier, "Gone. About an hour ago. That way," he pointed south into the plains, "Good riddance I say."

The soldier peered into Stych's face searching for any trace of deceit then spun around and ordered his men to search the village, "If I find you are trying to trick us old man, I'll be bidding good riddance to you. Give me your name, now," he brandished the gleaming blade of his sword in Stych's face.

"I may be an old man sir, but I am not an old fool," he turned and seated himself once again, staring blank-faced at the soldier, "I am called Nestor of Roth. Everyone here knows me, and I might say, the time you spend searching here is the time your fugitive is using to get away, and there are many places to lose one's self in the Hollon Plains."

Grunting in disgust, the soldier mounted up and spurred his horse down the road, yelling angrily for his men to follow. "You'd best remember me because I'll remember you, Nestor of Roth."

Watching with amusement as the group of raging soldiers thundered down the road into the plain, Stych straightened up and carefully peeled the fake whiskers from his smooth chin, "By Reb I hope you do remember a Nestor of Roth, my friend," he grinned openly.

*****

Their brief head start had carried them well into the protection of the forest in the Coss Valley, the rocky ground showing no trace of their passage. Isben galloped from his drag position, catching up with the wagon and signaling for a halt.

"Take a short break and water the horses," he commanded, jumping down from his own, "there is no sign at all of any pursuit- old Stych must have spun them a merry yarn."

Dame Wen and Malla watered the horses while Nettie checked Bryan's bandaged arm. Korvaal was cowering in a frightened heap on the floor of the wagon groaning with self pity. Isben held a leather water pail up to his own horse and whispered to Nettie, "How's our guest doing?"

"No need to whisper brother, he won't give us any trouble," she slipped an ugly looking dagger from beneath the folds of her gown and showed it to Isben, "I just bring this out when it looks like he might start up. Shuts him up like a clam," she smiled wickedly.

Isben chuckled and gave her a pat, "I can understand his terror though. Going back to DeGang territory even makes me uneasy."

Nettie nodded solemnly and gazed about, "I haven't been through here since we were children. It seemed so empty and isolated then," she waved a casual hand, "now it looks quite beautiful."

Isben followed her gaze, rubbing his mount's muzzle and zipping up the water bag, "The trees are a lot bigger now, and more of them too. It's a strange place though," he kicked at a few loose stones, "this rocky ground is useless for any kind of agriculture. And the only water is that small river at the North end. I don't understand how these trees survive, let alone grow."

They stood silently for a moment considering the valley's mystery then, when Dame Wen and Malla approached, Isben directed them to climb aboard and settle in for a long ride. Nettie scrambled up on the driver's seat and whipped the horses forward, waving to Isben who remounted and hung back as a rear guard.

*****

"I want you to know Marc that I really appreciate you sponsoring me for this trip," Holden smiled excitedly at his young friend.

"Glad to have you along Holden. I just hope you're not disappointed in your expectations."

Prer Jolly removed his pipe from his mouth and reached over to poke Holden on the arm, "I recall my grandfather talking about the explorers when I was a youth. Seemed very exciting to me- flying off to find new planets, setting up colonies and such."

"It must have been," Holden agreed, leaning back and smiling at the older man, "from the messages in the archive my family believes some of them were our relatives."

"Hmm," Prer Jolly blew out a cloud of thick blue smoke, "so you said at the meeting. I wonder how they fared under the exiled Rykas?"

Holden frowned and looked down at his hands. He too had entertained similar concerns. He smiled up at the elderly scholar and shrugged,

"I guess we'll know soon enough."

Ramos Given came through the cabin door and announced that the flight was on target for arrival that evening, about nine hours from then. Everyone let out a small cheer and traded grins around the lounge compartment.

"Captain Wilde says we should consider our meal around two or three hours from touch down. Commander Zag and Lieutenant Timon will be providing whatever culinary delights we have."

Some good natured teasing was directed at the two soldiers who smiled back, knowing that the field rations they had brought with them were anything but 'delights'.

The group settled back comfortably, watching their swift passage through the wide lounge windows. The black sky presented a huge canvas, spattered with a myriad of white and yellow, multi-sized stars. Occasionally their voices would sound amazed oohs and aaahs as fiery comet trails flashed across the panorama of the heaven.

*****

"Light those torches," Terron commanded, standing atop the steps of the palace entrance, "we want our visitors to have a safe landing."

Several men scurried about lighting and placing torches around the stone platform that was the landing site. Above, they could see the glow of the space boat's lights against the black sky as it began its final decent. Terron scanned the area for her men, satisfying herself that they were in position as ordered.

She fluffed her skirt and shook out her long yellow hair in preparation for greeting the delegation, an innocent expression masking her evil intent. Inside the palace, Haxxor hovered over the trembling Dee-Ryka, muttering vile warnings against doing anything except what she was told.

The table before her held a large flask of wine and several glasses for toasting the acceptance of the treaty. The treaty she was being forced to sign in her family's name.

Settling down with the touch of a feather borne of Captain Wilde's vast experience, the space boat engines whirled to a gradual halt and the frame supports locked into place, keeping it level and steady. A double line of soldiers bearing torches positioned themselves on either side of the hatch door, forming a path directly to the steps where Terron waited.

As agreed, prior to landing, Church would open the hatch and be the first to disembark followed by Marc, Commander Zag, Holden and Prer Jolly. Captain Wilde, Timon and Ramos would remain on board to maintain operations on the ship. The delegation filed out accordingly, their eyes darting about the gathered troops and the line of torches.

Commander Zag cautiously placed his hand on the handle of his sword, his military training rushing back in an adrenalin flood. Marc took the lead and headed down the line to the imposing figure waiting on the palace steps.

Drawing near, he failed to mask his surprise upon seeing that it was a woman, and an impressive one at that.

"Greetings from Belgar," Terron smiled sweetly, descending the steps and offering her hand. "This is a rare occasion indeed. A peaceful visit from Azwan was not high on our list of expectations."

Marc stepped forward and grasped the outstretched hand, his eyes jumping quickly to hers as he felt the power in her grip, "I regret only that it has taken this long your- miss-"

"Terron. Terron DeGang," she accepted, her eyes flashing with amusement at the stunned look on his face.

Marc swallowed hard, his colour rising as he tugged his hand free of her grip, "We had no- I mean we thought that-"

"You thought that the Rykas still formed the government of Belgar," Terron moved close to him, her warm breath skimming his cheek, "actually they do, in a way. Dee-Ryka, the last of her line, is our official authority in situations like this, but as she is just a child, I am the working ruler of Belgar."

Her last words fell on Marc like a silk club and he felt his neck hair rise as he glimpsed the sparks in her green eyes.

"Uh- well. Uh, I'm- I'm Marc of Alton, official representative of Gothag of Tor. This- this is," he waved to the group now clustered behind him at the steps, "our delegation; Prer Jolly, senior educator, Holden West, one of our citizenry, Engineer Church, and Commander Zag of the Azwan military. Gentlemen, this is Terron DeGang- working ruler of Belgar."

She returned their bows with a tilt of her head, her eyes seeking Marc's face for any hint of sarcasm in his slight hesitation, "A military commander? Unusual for a peace delegation, no?"

Zag stepped forward, appraising the woman and reported professionally, "All interplanetary missions require a member of our military m'lady. It is rule of our government."

Terron sized up the commander, making a mental note to keep a sharp eye on him when springing her trap, "Quite sensible too, commander," again the disarming smile, "I sure there's a good reason for such a law on Azwan." Turning quickly she beckoned the group to follow her inside and led the way with long, sure, two stairs at a time, strides.