Colonel Taois walked along the waterfront streets wearing a tattered cloak with its cowl pulled up over his head. He avoided the gaze of oncoming beasts and walked quickly toward a rickety shanty one block off the bay. He entered quietly, acknowledging the mink standing watch at the inside of the front door, then made his way up the stairs to a room on the second floor. Three other minks stood at the head of the stairs, diligently watching the comings and goings of any beast they did not recognize.

The room was large and musty, smelling of stale sea-water and fish. Captain Mobus sat on a battered bunk, surrounded by four more Minge.

On the floor at the base of the bunk, a burlap sack containing the Rubitar lay tied up and carefully watched. Taois walked over to the sack, untied the rope and looked in. Satisfied, the colonel rebound the package and sat next to the captain. He let out a sigh and turned to his subordinate.
"The king has increased his search for the stone. He is no longer satisfied in merely searching the ships. I have learned that troops will be deployed to begin searching the waterfront and that is not the most disturbing news. Minks are being detained. There is no doubt he knows we are here."

Mobus thought for a moment.
"They cannot capture us, and we can defeat them easily."

"Whether we kill their troops and escape is not the problem, because as you note, we surely can leave Seth-e-Raman any time we like. What we cannot do is transport the stone while we are Deev-smoke, we would have to leave it here and that is totally unacceptable. We will leave this city tomorrow...with the Rubitar...on our ship."

Mobus smiled.
"A battle then?"

"Of sorts. They have blocked the harbor entrance with an increased number of royal frigates. It is eight now, side by side and only a few hundred yards apart. No ship can run the blockade without being sunk. We will need to deal with them before we exit."

"What is your plan?"

"I will take a half dozen of our beasts and set those ships ablaze. I have secured several hundred gallons of lamp oil which is being jellied as we speak. When the process is complete the oil can easily be applied to the hulls of the ships and ignited. Once the blockade is consumed in flames, you will run the ship through. Do not take the time to locate us, head straight for Port Saud at full speed to meet our Prince.

"We will meet you there in a few days. Load the Rubitar late tonight and prepare the ship. The force I will lead will work our way from ship to ship setting the fires. When they are fully engulfed in flame, make full sail and head out to sea, no one will be prepared to stop you, they will be too busy fighting the fires and trying to save their men. I think a few hours past dawn will be about right.

"Let me emphasize this point, Mobus, do not engage the enemy, run. Getting the stone to Vasheron is all that matters, not blood or glory, there will be time for that later, am I clear?"

Looking disappointed, Mobus nodded.
"Yes Colonel."

"Good, inform your men and get them ready to move back to the ship. I will select my squad and prepare to send the blockade to the fires of perdition."

Gladiverserac was the first to arrive at the arranged meeting and seated herself quietly at the large table. Herman and Winnie, covered in specks of cement, were the next to enter. The albatross and the hedgehogs chatted amiably awaiting the arrival of Chumley, Vattus, and Robbi.

"Talented beasts thou art. A magical substance is glass and to shape it as thou can...wondrous!"

Herman chuckled.
"I always done it, since I was a small tyke, littler than Winnie here. Glass just kinda called to me."

"To thee it called and thou makest it sing, a fair trade methinks." Gladis commented.

"You sure talk funny, miss Gladis," Winnie said innocently.

Herman gave him a stern look.
"That ain't polite, young hog! We don't talk too proper ourselves. Miss Gladis ain't from these parts, you know...if'n we was visitin' her, it'd be us what sounded funny. I likes the way she speaks, it's all fancy and pretty, she's a proper lady, she is."

Winnie looked duly chastised.
"I didn't mean nuthin' by it, I just ain't never heard no one speak like her afore," he turned to Gladiverserac, "I'm real sorry if'n I hurt your feelin's, I didn't mean to, I likes the way you talk too, just like Hermie."

Gladis grinned broadly.
"No offense have I taken, master Winnie. I, as well, the way you speak, enjoy."

"Thankee Miss Gladis."

"Are you as well a shaper of the glass, young sir?" she asked.

Winnie grinned happily.
"I sure hopes to be. I got me the best teacher in all the Lands. I already know how to cook it and Hermie lets me blow some small stuff too and roll it and all sorts of cool stuff."

Herman laughed.
"Young Winnie got the Corkspike curse, that's fer sure. The glass got 'im under its spell all right. He's gonna be a right fine gaffer when he's a grown...heck, he's better'n most already."

The conversation was cut short as the three remaining comrades entered the room and sat at the table. Vattus was carrying the prophecies with him and placed them, opened, in front of his chair. Everyone was silent, waiting for the High Magus to speak. He studied the open book for a moment, looking for the passages he had translated earlier concerning 'The Secret King'. When he found them he addressed his friends.

"Now we need to try to determine who this 'Secret King' might be. It would appear from what I have translated, that it is the 'Secret King' alone who stands any chance against the Ürgod. Whether he can defeat him, I know not."

Herman interrupted.
"Don't them prophecies tell you what's a gonna happen, who's a gonna win and such? Ain't that what prophecies do?"

Vattus smiled.
"That's a common mistake. Prophecies don't work that way. I've been tutoring Robbi on just this point, as a matter-of-fact, I think Robbi would be better at explaining it than I am...," he chuckled, "I tend to be a bit dry in my explanations. Robbi, give them the example you gave me."

Robbi looked to Herman.
"Okay, here goes. Let's say you were a cook and wanted to make a gooseberry pie..."

"I likes gooseberry pie." Winnie chirped.

"Me too," Robbi continued, "so, anyway, you're going to bake this pie, but you're not a great cook, so you get yourself a cookbook and look for the recipe. The cookbook has a master recipe for the pie you're baking, but it also has recipes for a tart pie and a sweet pie, depending on your taste. No matter which recipe you choose, you end up with gooseberry pie, the type you get depends on how you alter the ingredients of the master recipe.

"The future in a prophecy is like the master recipe, the events which occur prior to the 'baking' are the ingredients. Azmeritus is trying to fulfill the events which will produce the 'pie' he prefers, we want to bake a different one. Which gooseberry pie we end up with depends on which set of prophecies are set into play more effectively. We don't know which pie we'll get yet, we only know that it will be a pie. The Book of Prophecies is just like that cookbook, it tells us everything that's needed to produce the future we want, or the future that Azmeritus wants. For us to succeed, we need to forestall the Brotherhood's efforts to fulfill their desired set of prophecies." She looked to Vattus, "Did I get that right?"

"Excellent, Robbi," he acknowledged.

"I hopes we're makin' the tart kind, that's my favorite," Winnie said.

"I think I get it Mister Vattus, sir," Herman said thoughtfully, "the future is the future and it's only the future the prophecies warn about if we let 'em cook it the way they want."

"Very good, that's exactly right, Herman," the magus replied.

"Thankee," the big hedgehog said proudly.

Vattus continued.
"Now that that's cleared up, let me continue. I can only assume that the majority of the events which need fulfillment for Azmeritus' chosen destiny to occur are in the second book of prophecies, which, it is safe to assume, is in Azmeritus' paws. We have only this book to work with and the pivotal point is this 'King'. We desperately need to determine who he is and get him to join forces with us if we are to stand any chance at all. That being said, there are only three small passages which reference him directly. I only hope that it will be enough to determine his identity."

Vattus read from the book.

"Away from his kingdom,
He rules his world,
His mind confused,
His form unfurled.
His eye seeks out the distant shore,
The Secret King is free once more.

"Then there is this passage...

"Of girth and might,
The strongest of the free.
The king alone can fight the god,
In frenzied battle on the sea.
With power freely given
And a choice that's freely made,
The battle rages 'neath the sun,
Less arrow, club, or blade.

"Then finally there is this...

"His mother's gift infuses him,
A friend's heart leads him true,
A gentle killer's skill protects,
and by his subjects carried high
to see the violent northern sky.

"That's it," Vattus concluded, "any ideas who this 'King' might be?"

The friends looked back and forth without speaking. Not a single thought was forthcoming. Finally, Robbi made a suggestion.

"Let's figure out what we can about the 'King', from what Gadral Neure tells us...," she smiled at Herman, "the first Gadral Neure, not our friend Herman."

"That's a relief," the big hedgehog smiled. He started the conversation with a question, "So, if'n he's 'The Secret King', I guess no one knows about him?"

Gladiverserac chimed in.
"That is not so, methinks. A shared thing, a secret is. Known by at least a single beast he must be, lest he is not secret, but unknown."

Chumley snapped his fingers.
"Gladis is right, ain't she. This Neure chappy didn't call 'im the 'Unknown King', did 'e ? Stands to reason someone knows 'e's the king, it's just a secret, ain't it? Maybe 'e didn't want to be king, or nobody told 'im that 'e was. Them words said that 'is mind was confused, didn't they? Maybe 'e's nuttier than a cat in a barrel and 'is people didn't think 'e was sane enough to lead them?"

Herman added his thoughts.
"That there poem also said that his body was unfurled, that sounds right painful, mayhaps the poor beast is crippled and can't do what a king's gotta do?"

"Well," Robbi added, "we know that he's not in his own kingdom, but he's still in power wherever he is, the passage says 'away from his kingdom, he rules his world', that tells us he's got to be known, at least by the subjects of this 'world that he rules'".

"Maybe he is in a prison," Vattus offered, "and he rules the other inmates, the last line in the first passage says 'The Secret King is free once more', that implies, to me at least, that he is presently not free."

"He could be trapped rather than imprisoned," Robbi suggested.

The table went silent once more in frustration, thinking about what had been revealed or assumed. Herman spoke up listing the qualities they had bestowed upon this 'Secret King'.

"So let me see if'n I got this right, we're lookin' for a crazy, crippled king what no one wants and somebody sent to prison or the loony bin. Ya think we'd a heard about this bloke, how many nutsy one-eyed kings can there be, 'specially if'n they're trapped or in prison?"

Chumley looked up at hedgehog in shock. It was as though he'd been hit by a brick.

"What'd you just say?" he asked loudly.

Herman was taken aback at the rat's reaction.
"I just asked how many crazy one-eyed kings there could be was all," he said meekly.

"One-eyed?" Chumley asked.

"Well, yeah...," Herman answered, "that there poem says 'his eye seeks out the sumpthin' shore, don't it? It don't say 'his eyes', do it? Stands ta reason the nutty king only got one eye, right?"

"Right....right," Chumley said slowly. He began to shake his head. He went completely silent and laid his head into his arms on the table. His friends stared at him.

"Art thou all right, Sir Chumley?" Gladis asked.

Chumley looked up slowly, then stood.
"Targas 'elp us," he said shaking his head, "Ah know the answer, ah know who the "Secret King' is."

At the same time Chumley was making his revelation to his friends, elsewhere in the city, other creatures were busy performing their own tasks. A group of six cowled figures, hoods drawn over their faces, moved quickly down the cobbled streets toward the docks. They pulled an old battered cart, upon which lay a large wooden crate, covered in a dirty canvas sheet. Few paid them any mind and those who did, could sense their tension and wisely stepped aside at their approach.

They reached the docks and hurried quickly to a distant ship moored among countless others along the bustling harbor side. The name of the vessel they stopped in front of was the Windspirit and within a few minutes, the wooden crate was transferred to its hold. The leader of the group threw back his cowl and addressed his subordinate on the deck.

"Tonight we will eliminate the blockade, are the skiffs ready?" Colonel Taois asked.

"They are sir," Captain Mobus responded, "they have been painted black as per you instruction. All three are loaded with a hundred gallons of the jellied oil and each has mops for application and a flint for ignition."

"Excellent. We will leave landside when most are asleep or drunk, at about four in the morning. I will be in the lead boat, we will work our way  north along the blockade. The first three ships will be ignited simultaneously and they remainder as quickly as we can. It is a new moon tonight, so we will be nearly impossible to see...Have the oars been muffled?"

"Yes, colonel, well muffled," the captain responded.

"Good. In any case, the blockade should be well ablaze at the first approach of dawn. That is when you make for any gap between the burning ships and escape the harbor. Begin your run at the inlet just before first light, steer towards the flames. No one will follow, they will be busy trying to save the burning ships. My crews and I will meet you in Port Saud in a week's time. Prince Vasheron should already be there. Do whatever he commands. If you have departed before we arrive, we will meet in Minga. Do you understand the plan? Any questions?"

"No, colonel, no questions. We'll see you in Port Saud."

Taois stared deeply into Mobus' eyes.
"Protect the stone at all costs, we need it to bargain with."

"I will, colonel, I will!"

Everyone stared at Chumley, wordless, after his announcement. There was silence until Robbi spoke up.
"Well!?" she chirped, "Don't keep it to yourself, who's the 'Secret King?"

Chumley held his head in his paws.
"Ah'm fairly certain, ah am. It's Ashy, it is."

Gladiverserac looked up, mildly confused.
"Is that not thine pet, the monster?"

"Yeah, luv, ah fear it is," the black rat said meekly.

"Of what is he king, Sir Chumley?"

"The wolfies, luv, 'e's the king of the Lokians."

Robbi was shocked.
"Are you sure, Chumley? The Asherouboros? King of the Lokians?"

"Yeah, yeah, and yeah. It all fits, don't it?"

Vattus put his hand on Chumley's shoulder.
"Please explain what led you to this conclusion, my friend."

Chumley looked up.
"It all adds up, don't it? When ah threw that pebble at Kahlis, and she got herself et by ole Ashy, me and the wolfies all knew that by Lokian law, 'im what kills the ruler, becomes the ruler. Ah can't blame the Lokians for not wantin' to 'ave a sea-serpent as their king. Not very practical, is it? 'E can't talk, 'e's kinda vicious, and 'e's stuck in a landlocked body of boilin' water, ain't 'e? Not like 'e asked to be king or nothin', so the Lokians pass Ashy by...no 'arm, no foul...and we set Frega up as king. We weren't bein' dishonest or such, just practical. But whatever we say don't change the fact that the old Asherouboros is king of the wolves."

"Are you sure, it's the Asherouboros that Neure is prophesying about?" Robbi persisted.

"Ah wasn't until 'Erman there mentioned the one-eyed thing from the poem," Chumley smiled, "in mah first encounter with Ashy, we weren't quite the chums we are now. 'E was tryin' to eat me 'e was, so I kinda sliced one of 'is eyes and it ain't been right since.

"So let's add it up, shall we? We got a one-eyed king that ain't in is kingdom, bein' trapped in the Circe sea and all. 'E's certainly the master of 'is world, ain't 'e? There ain't another creature...man, beast or fish...which stands a chance against 'im in that lake.

"Next, 'e is kinda snaky and such, so bein' 'unfurled' makes sense, don't it? Finally, 'e's a thousand year old monster what's been trapped in a lake all this time, cravin' wizards to eat, if that ain't the recipe for a 'confused mind, I can't rightly say what would be."

Everyone sat staring at Chumley. Vattus stood.
"I think our friend is right. It all fits. It's also logical that it would take a so-called monster like the Asherouboros to have any chance at all against a being like the Ürgod." He looked around the table at the confused faces staring back at him. He laughed brightly and said loudly, "Don't look so glum, my friends, this is an important revelation. We know who 'The Secret King' is, that is a major victory for us!"

Herman raised his paw.
"What is it Herman?" Vattus asked.

"Who's this Asherou... ash..., this monster's mother?" the hedgehog asked.

"Mother?" Vattus inquired.

"Yeah, that there poem says sumthin' 'bout his 'mother's gift', don't it?"

"Arisha!" Robbi said excitedly, "Not only is she called Mother of the World, but the Asherouboros only exists because it ate some of the shell of her egg. It has to be Arisha!"

"You're right Robbi," Vattus said proudly, "it is Arisha. We've made great progress. I have an idea that I need to work out. I'd like to speak to Herman and Chumley privately to see if it's practical. The rest of you need to catch up on your rest, it's getting late. We will meet again tomorrow after breakfast."