Galantyne whirled away from Kara, which made his ripe odor assail her delicate senses. "I don't understand...." 

"I do." Galantyne handed her a wet cloth to wipe her mouth. "You suffer from the effects of the child you carry."

Kara felt her heart stop its frantic beating as her mind caught up to the fact that she was exposed once again to facts she barely believed.

"Oh, don't worry. I have seen it seven times before." 

Kara slumped forward. "This can't be happening..." 

Galantyne plucked the correct information from her mind and discreetly contradicted her statement. "I beg to differ with you..."

She squared her shoulders. "You will help me free him?"

"You have no idea if he even lives."

"I know he lives." 

Galantyne nodded. "Right now I have an army to muster, young woman. And you have a council to focus on. We march at daybreak."

"Etrusia?"

Galantyne took a deep breath. "It happened only a few minutes after I sent Belakane and the great ship to Aquaria. I felt the terrible loss and destruction in my Zalez, and it almost crippled me for more moments than I'd care to remember."

"Father....?" 

"I can't tell if there are survivors." he shook his head. "My Zalez is not refined enough to traverse the seas. I don't know if any got away. I just don't know their fate."

"I cannot lose hope." Kara cried, her eyes welling with unaccustomed emotion and she threw back her head in anguish. "Is this a side effect of the child also?"

Galantyne chuckled. "I have supposed that in the past, but women are emotional without pregnancy, so I don't commit to that being the only reason."

"Galantyne..." He started toward the door to his chambers and then turned as she came up and in very uncharacteristic sentiment put her arms around him. "I am sorry for defying you."

She had always been defiant, rebellious. "Kara..." The close intimacy made him uncomfortable even though the feel of her against him was bittersweet relief.

"And I want you to help me tell Korlon....."

"Korlon will not easily accept your choice, love." 

Kara's hold on him tightened in very unaccustomed emotional energy. Neither of them had ever been demonstrative. But with the possibility of their Father's death, the kingdom in upheaval and war separating them her embrace was not shunned.

"Help him understand."

"I will try to help him accept it and not kill your Foeman in the process." 

She let him go, looking away in embarrassment. Galantyne cleared his throat, eyed her pale form once again, and exited the room.

******

Crevan forced his eyes to open, a splitting headache bloomed in the left side of his head. For minutes he lay there just breathing, holding his eyes open as long as he could stand it. The pain was intense. 

"Rion." 

"Here brother." A weak but lucid voice accompanied a sense of pleasure at their reunion inside his Zalez.

Crevan turned and the pain blossomed so forcefully all he saw was blackness as stinging blasts of shock entered his system.

He awoke later, not sure if it was daylight or moonlight streaming in through the strange thatching that was overhead. Nor did the sounds of local life nearby spark any clues to answer this question. The pain in his head seemed to be a slight bit less though. 

"Rion." He forced his Zalez to operate properly instead of taxing the voice that increased the pain he felt.

"Here. I am here."

It was easier to speak inside Zalez. "Where are we?"

"In the Aerie above the Castle, where we met Kahlest."

"Why are we here?"

"I don't know. I have only seen Kib." Rion sounded weak and as if he was blocking his own pain from Crevan's probing inquiries.

"Kib?"

"From my village." He clarified. "Stop trying to probe me. I don't know any more than that."

"Kib, the deformed mutation? Why would he be here? When did you see him?"

"He came earlier and gave us medicine."

Crevan's thoughts were tangled trying to make sense of this development. A deformed half wit was feeding him and Rion medicine inside the Aerie above the castle? "What kind of medicine? Are you hurt as well?"

"I am recovering." 

Crevan dared to open his eyes and this time although the right one remained blurry, he was able to turn his head without the same reaction of stiff bitten pain. Lying on his side, with his back facing him, was his brother. Above Rion's head was a small shelf of stone and upon it, clearly visible in the reflection, was a cup and a pitcher, presumably of water, and a covered container, hopefully with food. Crevan pushed upward with both arms, tested the movement for signs of conscious interruption, and when none seemed to be forthcoming, pressed further until he was sitting up.

"What happened to your back?" Crevan reached for the cup and knocked it over. It had been empty and it rolled a few inches, so he reached lower for it causing that same blinding pain to return. He panted, determined to assuage his growing thirst.

"Quildor had me beat for daring to assault him."

"Why didn't he just kill you?"

"I don't know."

Crevan eyed his brother's dark blonde hair matted to his head in bloody rivulets. "He could have killed you. Why did you assault him?"

"He said he had left you for dead after slicing you with his sword."

"Me?" Crevan was astonished. "You attacked the most powerful and feared warrior in the realm to avenge my worthless blood?"

Rion's chuckle was pained. "If I'd known the cost...."

Inside Zalez, it was clear to both men the feelings that words could not express. Love, loyalty, complete trust, honor.

Crevan managed a few sips of water and opened the covered crockery hoping to find some nuts or berries at the least. His exploring finger touched a fine ground chalky substance he'd never seen before. "Our healers left us with sea salt to eat?"

Rion couldn't move and didn't turn his head. "Perhaps the salt is for the wounds."

Crevan acknowledged this idea with a painful nod and dipped his finger into the small pot. He brought the finger to his nose and sniffed it delicately. "I don't think it is salt."

"Then I can't imagine what it is-- wait! I heard Kib or one of them saying that they could cut crystal and put the dust into baby's eyes and reduce the probability that they would have to assimilate to survive. Perhaps there are other healing properties."

Crevan's pursed his lips. "You believe this is cut crystal dust? Extremely fine, if that's the case."

"Nothing on this planet surprises me anymore." 

Crevan smeared it over one of the painful and bloody welts on Rion's back. He stiffened in startled pain. Crevan leaned closer to see if there were any effect. The blood that had been oozing in a coagulated mess, seeped into the wound, and the edges of it turned a faint pink, rather than a fiery jagged glare. "I think you got it right." He said in amazement, dipping his finger again. The next welt followed suit till Crevan had plastered each welt on Rion's back.

"Stuff is amazing magic."

"Whatever it is, the pain is easing and I can feel the skin tingling as it heals. Whoever left it did us a tremendous favor."

Crevan licked his finger in hopes that some of the inner flame would subside. Immediately his tongue went numb, and he gasped. "I can't feel my tongue!"

"It probably wasn't supposed to be eaten. Can you spit it out, Crevan?"

Crevan tried to wipe his tongue on his sleeve, but the stuff was too potent. In seconds the whole side of his face was numb. "Rion!" The numbness reached his eye and he was forced to close it. A feeling of warmth came over him, and when he opened his eye once more, his vision was clear.

He laughed. "I can see again!" 

Rion was able to sit without crying out in pain. He stared at Crevan in relief. "Whoever left that stuff knew what they were doing and wanted us to be healed."

Rion examined his bruised and swollen face. "Can I try some of that?"

Crevan swallowed hard as he stared in shock at Rion's massively beaten and bloody face. "Who did this?" He dipped his fingers in the little jar and as the dust clung to them, he reached out and wiped it on the worst of Rion's wounds.

"I think Fontayne knocked me out from behind, and then Quildor tied me to a post as the army marched by and they took their best shots-- after the whipping, of course." As his eyes began to seal themselves and the cuts surrounding them began to retreat, Rion reached a shaky hand and grabbed Crevan's wrist, effectively stopping his ministrations in mid-air. "Crevan, I'm a traitor."

Crevan looked at the gnarled and bloody fingers that had once been his brother's deft sword hand. He closed his eyes against the evidence of hatred and terror he saw written there. "As am I."