Taking off his crown, Feodric An’Reon sighed at his beautiful wife clutching the bundle in her arms that were their first and only child. He could hear the clatter of armored feet in the corridor outside his reception hall, there was not much time now. Feeling the grip of his jeweled sword he had fought with so many times in his younger days he considered for a while to fight back, but after a few seconds of thought rejected the idea. It would be a most disgraceful way to die, especially for a King. Rising he heard his honor guard outside the locked doors of his chamber fight bravely to protect him. The eight guards on the inside of the doors all stood with their swords in hand. They were his best men, but they would never stand up against the force outside the door. All of them were experts with their weapons, and had fought long and hard with him to free the country from all kinds of menace. Now that was all to an end. Rising he put his crown down on his high seat and walked over to his wife, caressing her pale white cheek. Her face was as regal as any queen’s face had ever been, and her long golden hair let her look straight out of a tale. But her face told of fear, not as much as for herself but for their son in her arms. A tear streaked down her cheek as he started playing with the little boy’s hand, laughing at his attempt to grasp one of his fingers.

"Now don’t worry Moira, they will do nothing to hurt him", even though she smiled at his words, her face showed her lack of hope. The screams of the men outside the gates was ignored by everyone in the chamber as it was nothing. Still the feeling in the room told of elation, there was nothing to be done to alter the course of events now. The men would fight to their deaths no matter what Feodric said to them, they had sworn to do so, and honor was their way of living, these men had no family, no wives, no children to take care of or be mourned by. All their lives had been dedicated to protect him. And they would to the end of it. One of the queen’s maids looked upon the scene with her eyes full of tears.

Suddenly the screams and clashes of battle ended outside the gates and instead someone started pounding on the door. Caran, the oldest of his honor guard that he had fought many battles with approached silently, careful not to disturb or seem alarmed at the fact that someone was trying to break the doors in.

"Sire, I beg you, let the guard take you to safety by using the secret tunnel." The King, the best the land of Ardor had ever had according to Caran’s point of view only shook his head.

"No Caran. No." The guard almost broke into tears at his lack of ability to convince his King, not that he showed it but the feelings he had for his King was real. He would do anything to protect him.

"Then Sire, you must let one of my guards take the heir from under the wings of the dark angel and take him to safety. We cannot let him come to harm." Caran’s honest green eyes glittered as it looked upon his King, still regal as ever in his bearskin cloak he himself had gifted his king with after a royal hunt. His eyes moved from his King to the small child in the arms of his just as beloved queen.

Moira’s blue eyes glittered first at Caran for his offer, then pleadingly she looked at her husband standing by her side.

The door started to crack as the pounding got worse, the seven guards still at their posts holding the door in place with all their strength.

"There is not much time Sire!"

The King bent down and kissed his child carefully on the forehead and brushed a strand of what would become long black hair just like his.

"Let it be done then." A smile of relief struck the queens face as her husband uttered the hard words.

Caran bowed slightly to his King and ran to trade place with the man he had intended to make the escape with all the time since this morning. Of course he had hoped that the whole royal family would come even though he knew the King’s pride would not permit it.

Egin was one of the best swordsman among the honor guard, probably the best in the land. But the reason to why Caran had decided it to be him was that he was the youngest of them all, and he was a man with a lot more brains than many thought when they saw his young unmarked face.

"Take the boy with you and go through the eastern tunnel, make sure nothing harms him and raise him as if he were your own" Caran’s face was dead serious and one that even a King would have a hard time resisting.

"But…" was all Egin had time to say before Caran broke him off.

"No buts. There’s not enough time, go" Caran said pushing Egin away and taking his place trying to hold the battered door in place.

Egin ran somewhat hesitantly over to the Royal couple at the dais.

"My King" he said bowing. "My Queen".

Moira handed the bundle over to him gently, trying as long as possible to hold on to him though she knew he would be forever lost to her. Tears of sorrow streaked down her face.

Egin slowly turned to his King, somewhat unsure of what to do or say.

Foedric’s hand landed upon his shoulder.

"You have all been like sons to me, and now I lay my last wish upon those who have been called my honor guard, and especially you Egin Of Everesland." Even the King had a hard time holding the tears back.

"Find shelter for my son, so he can one day become the servant of the land that is truly his, just like me and my ancestors have sworn to be. Now go while there is time." Egin hesitated just a while.

"What will be his name sire upon which I should call him?" The King looked at his Queen for just a brief second.

"His name will be Aegin An’Reon as a tribute to the one that saved his life and his honor". Egin bowed once before turning, steps heading for the concealed exit to the east tunnels, and not more than seconds later the sight of them both was lost behind the hidden doors. The King sighed and held his Queen tight in his arms. The pounding was breaking the doors to pieces, holes could already be seen in the five inch thick oak doors. It was all a matter of time. Feodric took the hand of his queen and walked her to her throne and placed her crown on her head after which he seated himself and donned his crown.

The next second the gates to his chamber was forced open and soldiers in chain mail and black tunics decorated with a embroidered silver hawk came welling into the room, most had swords and shield but several had crossbows with which they finished off the honor guard one by one. The guards fought bravely, Caran fought himself against five other swordsmen and still had the initiative when a heavy crossbow bolt buried itself deep into his chest. Caran still thrashed with his sword as he fell to the floor among those eight or so he had already defeated. More lay spread on the floor around the other dead or dying guards. But finally they all lay still on the cold stone floor. The King muttered a silent prayer as he held his wife’s trembling hand in his. Taking the responsibility of their deaths on himself solely.

The attackers, all dressed like the servants of death himself all lined up in two neat columns at the doors. Carefully dragging their slain friends to the sides along with the honor guard. One of the captains, a tall man with a black plume in his polished helmet stood staring at his majesty with a scornful smile.

Feodric remembered him. Eogan had once been a commanding officer in the royal army, but after he had caused the deaths of over a hundred of his people due to extortion, he had been stripped of his knighthood and been forbidden to enter the lands’ border ever again. And now he stood once more in the halls of the King of Ardor. In command of troops as grim as himself.

When the troop had been neatly arranged and silenced Eogan took his place in front of the left of the two groups as tradition was. His cold eyes staring straight at his former King with nothing but hate.

Feodric listened and wondered what would happen next and the next second all his questions were answered. Through the gate came the man that both Feodric and his Queen had been waiting for during the last couple of days. Mendarin Al’Gathor was a tall man, over six feet and with a body every trained warrior would envy. The strong hands showing at the short sleeves of his cloak was held clenched as if trying to control himself, but his face was twisted into a wide grin. A grin of victory.

Mendarin stopped some twenty yards from the couple sitting silently in their thrones. The King staring straight into his eyes with regal dignity, the Queen doing her best to keep up with her husband though tears rolled down her cheeks. Mendarin stared at them both for a short while, tilting his head as if wondering what to do next. Then a grin even more twisted than the first almost split his face and he turned to Eogan.

"Kill them" he stated coldly turning back to the two. "Kill them both".

Feodric had only had time to draw his sword halfway before five bolts had pierced his chest and abdomen and he slumped back into his seat, the crown falling off. The queen could only watch as the crossbowmen reloaded their weapons with skill. Finally she stood, her hand holding that of her dead husband. The first bolt pierced her neck on the side ripping off the artery that lead blood to her head and was sufficient enough to kill her. But just to be on the safe side Eogan ordered four more bolt fired, at least she had been a queen and should have nothing less than her King.

Mendarin smiled happily to himself as he watched what he thought to be the last royal blood of the An’Reon house run from the thrones onto the cold stone floor of the Evelan palace.

Egin ran as fast as could through the empty and dark corridors of the Evelan palace. But because of his inheritance from his mother that had been an elf he had received the vision of the darkest night, while his father, a highland warrior had granted him the body needed to become a warrior. Egin was young according to elven measure and human. His twenty five years as a man had been short he believed. The last two he had spent serving his King. He was a talent with the sword just like his father had been, and it was to his mother sadness he had picked that way to serve his living.

Egin clutched the bundle he had in his one arm tightly to his body while he gently held the hilt of his longsword with the other. The first thing he had done when getting into the tunnel had been to discard his cape, he had not liked leaving the only sign of him ever being one of the honor guard of the King of Ardor. But it was a necessary evil as not to jeopardize the safety of the heir to the throne.

He had never ventured the tunnels under the palace very far before, but he had been told of it’s existence as he had become a member of the guard and examined it potentials. It held several options of escape routes leading to the outside the city of Evelan in four directions.

The sieging army of Mendaring had it’s major camp to the west and north side of the city walls, most soldiers was within the city by now though, but there was no reason to take any chances. The army of Ardor had during the passed twenty years been reduced into a small peacekeeping force that was not near prepared for the army Mendarin had bought himself. Mendarin had been one of the four nobles that had always schemed to take over the throne.

Panting slightly Egin stopped by every corner to make sure no one were waiting for them, though the tunnels were safe for now he did not have much time to spend. When Mendarin realized the heir to the throne was nowhere to be found he would set his men to find him. And Egin had sworn to protect until the last drop of life in his veins. It had been hard to leave his King even though he had not served him for long, but somehow he found himself still serving.

Peering around a corner, the baby whining under his arm Egin spotted the door to the outside, little rays of light streaming through the old oak gate. It led out into a garden that had a door into a short tunnel under the walls. He carefully took off his tunic and rolled the now crying bundle into it, making sure to cover it as much as possible and started for the door.

Mendarin paced the bloody floor in front of the dais where the dead King and Queen sat, still holding each other’s hands. His eyes strayed to the crying maid that sat by the side of the two, her hands still to her eyes. He had told Eogan to secure the castle and find the baby heir and bring him to him. His personal guard of eight black clad men walked the walls of the chamber, searching for something to loot. Mendarin had limited their right to loot in the city. It had cost him several more thousand than giving them the right but he could not let the men loot and kill his citizens. Not more than necessary anyway. Those opposing him crowning himself king would die of course. That was inevitable. Mendarin looked into the face of one of the Calgarian mercenaries, his rough features and his unshaved face along with pitch black hair and eyes gave him the look almost comparable with the thought of death himself. And like almost every Calgarian he stood well six feet over the floor. The worn broad sword on his back told of many battles fought through his life. As did the deep scar on his left forearm. The Calgarian was a people without their own land to rule, as to that fact they had no allegiances they could serve anyone who paid enough for their skills. Most were peaceful craftsmen that made business all over the world. These men he had hired was just the lowest of all those men, but not less skilled at what they did.

"My Lord" a young soldier’s voice broke his thoughts off. "We have searched the palace, the child is nowhere to be found". Mendarin pulled his hand through his shoulder long hair and looked up into the ceiling.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself he turned to the tall soldier.

"I want that baby found, and I’m holding you responsible if he is lost". The soldier stared defiantly at the finger pointing at him. He had killed greater men than the one before him.

"He will be found". The soldier’s words had no more emotion than a stone.

Egin darted for all he was worth through the small rose garden, a couple of thorns tore his clothes as he passed too near but he hardly noticed through the haze of adrenaline. The door was small in size and fully made of steel. Egin threw himself at the handle and stopped, bouncing to the door. All he could do was to shake his head at the moment of truth. Banging his sword at the door in frustration he looked at the small key hole under the handle.

Turning around he ran for the tunnels again.

"Aha". Holding the crown of Ardor in his hands Menderin turned to face the soldier that obviously had found something.

"A tunnel my lord" hidden behind this wall. The tall barbarian looking soldier was holding his hand to a small edge hidden behind one of the tapestries on the wall. Looking around himself he shook one of the large iron candles by his side and the wall slid soundlessly to the side. There was a loud gasp from the crying maid.

"Send in your men" Menderin shouted at the men and at the same time drawing his sword, walking over to the maid still sitting before the dais.

"Is there anything else we need to know?" The maid stared with big eyes at the sword in Menderin’s hands hovering threateningly before her face.

"Nothing I will ever tell you" she said staring back at the man, eyes glittering with tears. Menderin lifted his sword into the air and swiftly let it fall as the expert swordsman he was.

The head of the poor maiden bounce three times on the stone floor before it stopped. Menderin smiled even though he did not like what he had just done. She had begged for death and she had gotten what she wanted. The soldier closest to him gave him an accusing look and headed past him into the tunnel along with ten others.

Egin ran as fast as he ever could, especially with a child under his arm, turning left and right as many times that he soon had lost his orientation. Stopping in a four way crossing he looked around. There was no way of telling where to go. The child was crying loudly under his arm now. He sheathed his sword and tried his best to comfort him but he had never done it before in his life and he failed his first.

But through the crying he suddenly could hear something else. At first he believed himself to imagine but soon he realized he was not alone in the tunnel. Taking a second to hesitate he ran off forward into the tunnel straight ahead. Had the boy ever felt fear he was sure nothing was compared to how he was feeling right now. Not fear for his own safety, but for the boy he had sworn to protect and the disgrace he would suffer if failing. The corridor he had run into was straight and high to the ceiling. One could think that this sort of tunnels would be moist and slippery but to Egin’s surprise it was drier than any place indoors he had ever been in. There was not even a hint of a chill though he was deep down under the palace by now after passing down several hundreds of step. Egin ran for several minutes, wondering weather the tunnel would ever end, and how it would. And just as he was about to stop and turn around he saw the first rays of light in more than a half an hour. Increasing his pace somewhat he suddenly came aware of the sound of running water somewhere ahead. And as he came closer and closer to the light slipping in from somewhere the sound got more and more intense.

Turning to look around he saw no one. The light ahead seemed to come from some sort of hole in the ceiling that leaked small quantities of light down into the corridor. As he came closer to it he realized it was some sort off lid and a rusty metal ladder led up to it. The corridor continued for at least another hundred paces before turning. Egin looked back over his shoulder, nothing yet, but as he listened through the sound of the crying baby and the flowing of water he could hear the sound of faint steps. Putting the baby down on the floor he climbed up to the lid letting in the light. It was made of metal and rotten wood. And as he pushed with his one hand to it, it immediately let go from the edge. Lifting it just a little less than an inch he pushed it hard to the side and revealed the sun shining from it’s zenith, blinding his eyes used to the darkness of the underground. Sticking his head up his eyes fell upon the city of Evelan laying quietly a mile to the north. And the Saldar river passed not a hundred yards to the south, in the direction he had moved in the tunnel. Turning his head his saw the land of Ardur stretch out in the everlasting green plains so typical for the southern highlands. There had been forest once, but they had all been cut down to make place for crops and cattle. Now only a few groves were left in scattered clumps to keep the earth from blowing away. Considering a while to get out from under the ground Egin realized that he would stand no chance if they were followed, especially not if the Calgarian would take use of their heavy cavalry. Pulling his head down again he climbed down the ladder and picked the baby up. Then panic struck his mind. The sound of running feet was a lot closer than it had been just a minute ago, turning his head to look down the corridor he made out several dark shadows running towards him. Unsheathing his sword he turned and started to run down the corridor.

After having run for no more than twenty yards he heard the clatter of something bouncing by his feet, and as he noticed something whining by his head landing further down the corridor he realized he was shot at. To his own comfort he knew that the Calgarian used crossbows that were very hard to reload while running, so if they had no more and two of them he would be pretty safe as long as he kept running. The turn in the corridor suddenly was right ahead of him and he skidded to take to corner at the highest possible speed, but just as he was about to start accelerate again his eyes bulged at the four meter drop down into the currents of the Saldar river. Coming to halt faster than he himself believed he would have he turned facing the corner from which his foes would come. He had not really realized the roar of the river until he found he could not hear the baby crying anymore. Putting the baby to the wall of the tunnel Egin prepared himself to fight, his body taking the stance to defend, his sword steady in his right hand. The first Calgarian never understood why his body failed him before his body smashed into the wall and darkness conquered his vision.

Backing away Egin met the stares of the next two coming into the corridor. One of them moved his lips as if to say anything but the words were silenced by the roar of the river behind him. Both of them were dressed the same way with dark tunics and chain mail for protection. The two advance at him slowly, both hands to their swords and Egin back towards the edge. It was obvious how the Calgarians thought they had the advantage, and if they had met another man with a sword they might have had. But carelessly one of the men’s eyes darted for the child laying to the wall. He never had time to react to the sword stabbing into his throat, an inch of red steel baring itself to the other man walking a step behind. The body slumped into a heap on the floor moving in spasm.

For the first time fear reached into the mind of Couglin Samarah. Two of his comrades had died at the hands of this young man before him that did not even have a beard. There was something odd about him but Samarah could not tell from where he stood only a few yards away. There was no way of hearing of anything happening around him because of the water, and Couglin hated water as much as any Calgarian did, and he thought of it as a curse that his people needed it to stay alive. Was it not enough for the gods to punish his people to be without a land of their own? Couglin was experienced enough to control his emotions though he had already decided not to take another step further towards the water. Their eyes were linked to each other, judging every move or tension of muscle. Both of them knew secrets in the art of swordsmanship. That was why he waited for the crossbowmen to ready their weapons and finish this little nuisance off.

Egin smiled at his foe after a few seconds, trying to sway his concentration but his eyes was held on him like they were seeing the most beautiful woman in his life. But suddenly the man stepped back and lowered his sword, smiling back. Wondering for a second what was happening, Egin froze as he saw two more men step around the corner. In their hands each had a crossbow. The options flashed before his eyes like lightning and like out of a reflex he threw his sword at the crossbowmen that lost a little of their initiative trying to avoid the blade swirling through the air. Egin acted without hesitation, grabbing the baby and holding it tight to his body he made a great leap into roar of the mighty river.

Several bolts passed by his head as he descended towards the surface that looked to be almost boiling from the currents. The water came rushing up at him faster than he had believed and found himself being out of breath almost the second of which he came into it. Holding the baby tight in his arms he kicked with his legs to come to the surface but the flow was so strong. And the clothes were pulling his down, if he could only use his arms, the thought was gone as fast as it had come to his mind. Instead he rolled into a ball, trying to hold his breath as best as possible. Rolling around in the water Egin decided it was over. But just as he was about to take a deep breath of river water his head broke the surface of the river, as a reflex he extended his arms with the baby over the surface, before he had ever time to realize it his knee struck something hard beneath him and he automatically extended his legs. Standing up he found that he had gotten to the opposite beach of the river perhaps five hundred yards down. The force of the wild river still pulled at his legs but he had it under control now. But blood started running cold in his veins when he suddenly realized that the baby was not crying anymore. Shaking the baby as if it would bring him life Egin suddenly heard something. Pulling the cloth of the cloak he had wound around the baby he saw… Aegin An’Reon, the righteous king of Ardor was smiling at him. As if the river had brought relief to his tired body, the fear of failure was like washed away. Egin could do nothing but laugh back at the little boy.

"You naughty little boy, you got me scared there for a while".

Mendarin held his pace over the floor of the great reception chamber. The palace had been cleared more than an hour ago, "now where is that baby" he yelled at himself quietly, feeling frustration start to grow inside his skull. Then there were steps to be heard from the hidden tunnel and the half a minute later three of the soldiers he had sent into the tunnels arrived back. It did not take long for him to read their faces and the frustration of not being in control grew into anger. Taking hold of a man high candle holder to his side he pushed it hard enough to fall onto a vase by one of the pillars holding the roof up. The vase shattered as an echo of his anger and he look upon the leader of the team he had sent in.

"They will die in the water My Lord. The guard jumped into the…" his tongue froze for a second, at least a bit because of admiration to a boy who would rather face drowning than death in combat.

"… into the river My Lord. Possibly no one can…"

"Enough" and the soldier went quiet. Pointing his finger again at him threateningly Menderin calmed himself enough not to hit the man. That would cause problems within the Calgarians, problems he needed the least right now.

"Find the bodies" the soldier swallowed hard once at the thought of having to go into the water.

"And don’t come back here until you’ve found the bodies, and if they are still alive, I will personally press the limit of how long it takes to kill a man. Take as many men as you like from the army, and whatever supplies you might need, but I warn you Couglin Samarah, not even your brother will be able to save you if you fail me." Menderin turned his back swiftly and walked over to where the king sat dead, and carefully with both hands lifted the crown from the king’s head.

Couglin just watched as the man greedily fingered the crown in his hands. One day Menderin would be surprised to find a dagger in his back and the country belonging to the Calgarians. The reason why Couglin turned his heel and went to find the guard and the boy was not because of the money or the threats Menderin had made. It would bring him honor to kill someone who dared more than he himself did. And killing a man not afraid of water would certainly bring honor among the Calgarians. And he would take the honor to help him earn respect, he was a halberd, and for that he had been considered less for all his life, now, things would change. I will be King, the words made his head come up a little more than it had a second before. Earning him a hard stare from his older half brother Eogan standing not more than a couple of meters from Lord Menderin. "In a leash you are my brother, but I will free you from it" he told himself silently as he walked out of the chamber of the Ardor King.

Egin could hardly believe his eyes as he climbed the last meter up from the steep river beach. Looking out over the Ardor plains he for the first time in his life realized it’s beauty. There had been several farms in the country over a month ago, but as the looting and plundering Calgarian army had passed through the country most of them had been burned down, leaving only black remnants of what had once been. But it was beautiful. Egin looked down at the little child cradled in his arm and found to his surprise that he was asleep. "Well, you take a little nap and I will have a couple of things straightened out." He said silently as not to wake the little baby up. After looking around he found his vicinity safe to wander and started walking. They would be after them soon. Sure the Calgarians did not want the rightful heir to the throne alive while trying to run a country. To Egin, the plains of southern Ardor was easy to push through, after having grown up among the hills in the north every inch of land felt strange to walk that did not lean up nor down. And that was where he was headed, not even the Calgarians could come into the mountains to fight, the clans would and had done nothing if the land or the king was threatened unless asked for help, which no one seldom did, but if their lands was walked by armies not belonging there they would crush. Your home was indeed your castle when it came to the highlanders. But first before heading north to the safety of the highlands he would have to find food and milk for the baby. It would take more than a week and a half to reach the border to the highlands on foot, perhaps longer. So he headed west into the farmlands. Surely not all farms could have been wiped out. It did not take long for their clothes to become dry in the noon sun of summer. The water had been cold and he hoped that the baby would not catch a cold. His elven heritage would save him from that, but the baby had not the immunity to sickness that he possessed and could easily die of pneumonia. At the thought he pulled the baby closer and altered his direction to a farm that looked unharmed, far in the distance.

Measuring distance over a plain wasn’t the easiest of things. Often things look closer than it actually was. Just like it did over water and valleys. It took him more than an hour and a half before the small farm lay in front of him and the sun had wandered far enough to cast shadows behind him. Sweat made his shirt cling to his back and he found himself looking for a well as soon as he reach the first field of the farm, the crop growing knee high brushing to his legs as he walked through it. The farm consisted of three houses, or rather a living house, a small barn and a even smaller shed. Trying to adjust his clothes to look at least proper if there were any people in the house, though everything pointed that it was abandoned. No smoke came from the chimney in the thatched roof and shutters were locked over the windows. There was a well not far from the house but Egin decided to knock on the door in case somebody was home and had just locked themselves in. But as he knocked on the door nobody answered. He felt the door handle and found it had been locked somehow. There was no key hole on the outside and there was no sign of any other smart way of locking it. Just as he was about to turn away and get some water out of the well the heard the rattle of somebody inside and as he turned a face of a old man stuck out of the slit that had opened.

"What do you want?" the man said in a harsh tone. Egin caught the sight of a small hatchet in his hand hidden behind the door.

"I’ve come to ask permission to fetch water from your well and buy some milk for the baby". The man’s eyes looked somehow surprised at the sight of the baby cradled up in his arm and the fact that he wasn’t armed. And there was no way of telling which class he belonged to. The man opened the door some more hesitantly and looked around to make sure there was no one standing behind the door waiting to hit him in the head, which there was not of course.

"Well, come on in then and we’ll see what we can get you." Opening the door to him Egin could feel that the hospitality of the Ardarians was not utterly gone. And as he stepped into the little house he was met by six pair of curious eyes. The farmer’s wife was an old tawny woman with a shawl around her head as if trying to hide away the hair that had started going gray a long time ago. The children were all old enough to have started going to school, not that all went to school, far from all could afford having their children away from home. The man gently put the hatchet away by the fireplace and walked over to a canister standing in a corner of the house. Using a big spoon the man poured milk into a smaller clay bottle that when filled was handed over to Egin. Reaching inside his pocket and pulling out a gold coin and handing it to the farmer the small house went completely silent if it had not been already. The farmer’s eyes bulged at what he now had in his hand. The gold coin had been enough to buy a whole cow and was a exaggerated payment.

"We don’t have… we have nothing to pay you back with" The farmer’s eyes looked nearly frightened but Egin just moved his hand over the farmer’s and sealed it around the coin. He had more of those. He felt almost ashamed over himself since he had just half a day ago earned twice the sum in a week.

"It is yours to keep" he said in what he thought was a very noble tone.

Suddenly the farmer’s wife scurried to his feet and fetched a plate from under the open fire and filled it with cold stew.

"It is not much My Lord" the hand that held the plate trembled just enough to reveal she was nervous at his presence. He took the simple tree plate solemnly by bowing his head somewhat. One of the younger girls came forward to him and took the baby in her arms as Egin hungrily ate while the whole family watched. It did not taste that bad, it was just that the missing of spices made it taste almost nothing. And while he ate the mother of the family carefully took the little baby in her arms.

First she just played a little with his small hands but as soon as she realized the baby needed a change she sent one of her girls to fetch something, and soon she came back with a bag full of babies clothes. She swiftly changed his clothes and just as soon she was feeding the baby milk. And while she was still feeding the baby she started singing in a soft murmur. It all was so natural.

"’Tis a nice little boy you have there" the farmer said quietly behind his shoulder. Could have done with one myself. Y’see me and the Mrs. have only had girls so far and I’m afraid we cannot have any more children. You should be lucky." Egin could only smile back into the old man’s face, finishing the last off from his plate.

Walking over to the baby he picked it up from the arms of the Farmer’s wife. Aegin, the crown heir was already sound asleep in new dry clothes and with a full stomach.

As Egin stepped towards the door the Wife was throwing him advice of how to raise children and how they would be glad if they came back and visited, oh that far away. Egin found himself leaving with a bag of clothes to change on the little one and food for himself and the baby. Outside the sun was still hot on his back. After having scanned the horizon all around he decided that it would be perfectly all right to start heading north. He would have to go in a loop around the bend in the river Saldar that snaked around the city, mainly to keep away from any Calgarian troops. It wasn’t until he left the family farm and started walking north-west he realized how problematic a baby could be. Especially to a man children had never been a thought. As he walked the child slept, cried, ate, cried and slept again in turns, and it was always a mystery to why he did it. But as the day passed and evening was crawling upon the land Egin had learned at least some tricks of how to tend the boy.

Egin found as the sun started to go down how bad a time he had done over the land. Of course the many stops he had had to do for the baby made a difference. And now he stood looking down at the western road from the city of Evelan, a part of the ancient trading route between the west and the east.

It started hundreds of miles east in the thickness of the great forests of Tallbar and ending far away west at the two trading and shipping towns of Bro and Vla. The road lay deserted now, mostly because of the war raging in the country but also because the trading wasn’t as profitable as in the ancient days when the seas were still unexplored. Egin took aim for a clump of trees far on the other side of the road and started jogging at an easy pace. The food he had had of the farmers had given him new energy enough to increase the pace a bit, especially as it was a down hill slope all the way down to the paved road. And as he came close enough to throw a rock at the road the sun had settled behind the horizon and it was rapidly getting darker. Not that the night was long this time of year but it wouldn’t help him much if he got disorientated and lost time and energy on finding his way again. The road felt hard and worn from intensive use under his feet for the few seconds he had to spend crossing it and he felt some kind of relief leaving it behind himself. It took about a half an hour to clear the way to the small clump of leaf trees. Mostly elm trees but at least one of the ancient oaks spreading it’s scrawny branches to filter the wind. Egin made sure to find a place in good cover by the trunk of a tree and decided against a fire after all. A fire drew eyes to it and that would endanger him and the child. Instead he fed his little friend and as he slumped of to sleep a couple of minutes later he ate himself and sat with the baby in his lap. And sleep soon conquered his eyes.

Couglin watched with hate on the Tan’Amarian scout as he searched the ground in front of them, he had refused a horse as they had offered it to him. Instead he ran by their side, stopping at short intervals to make sure they had not lost the track. The farm they had encountered a couple of hours ago had been of little help, they had burned it for that, their man had been there. Al’gan, his chief headsman had a cut in his arm now from the forsaken farmer’s puny hatchet. Al’gan had the man’s scalp for it though. Couglin had not liked what his men had done with the children before they had been killed and put in a pile in front of the house, but there was nothing he could do about it, and he didn’t really care either. As long as they were not his breed. Shifting in his saddle he waited for the Tan’Amarian to finish his work and run on. The night was coming down upon them and the horses were tired, so was the thirty or so men behind him riding in a scattered formation muttering about the dry and warm air different from the always cold and humid Sototh mountains where the five clans of the Calgarians had been hiding for so many years. Couglin felt rage well up from inside at the thought of another day of failure.

"We will rest on the southern side of the trade road." He declared to Al’Garn who spread the news through the ranks. And so they did as they came close enough to see the road through the pale darkness of the summer night. And within minutes the Calgarians had themselves installed on the small hill, the guard was decided and there were muttering from those who would sleep less than the others.

Couglin, silent in thought never bothered to make his bedroll or eat any of the food that were prepared over the blistering fires. His eyes glittered enough to keep even the experienced warrior Al’Garn silent.

Tomorrow would mean victory. Victory for Couglin Samarah, the Half-bred. Leader of the united Calgarian clans.

Egin woke up as the first rays of the sun glittered through the cold air of the summer morning. And because he had had to tend the baby at least ten times during the night he felt as though the few minutes of sleep he had gotten was worthless to him. Within ten minutes he had breakfast ready for the baby and started feeding him while walking north out of the small forest. He decided that haste was of importance now, the Calgarians would hire a tracker and be riding on horses, and if the tracker had found his trace he could be apprehended just any time. The thought made him increase the pace somewhat unconsciously. And he did not have time enough to lay a sidetrack to confuse his followers, if there were any. Looking over his shoulder he made sure no one were charging at his back. Egin felt naked out in the open with nothing more than a small knife to defend himself with. If only more of the guard had gotten away, maybe Affar and Brack, or Faen and Tomon, or Caran the leader and Just Maradion. The faces popped up in his head one by one as he for the first time really realized he was alone on this. The gold he had in his pouch would get him far, perhaps even bribe a few Calgarians from trying anything. The Calgarian people is greedy for everything that glitters. They would be safe in the highlands was his only thought, what next to do he had no thought of. All the time he fought back the feeling of elation far into the back of his head and tried to focus on the problems at hand.

"We shall prevail" he muttered as much to himself as to reassure the baby in his arms.

All day he walked over the sun warmed and fiercely green grass landscape, only the burnt out or abandoned farms and houses disturbed the picture of tranquility. Ardor had not been prepared for the least of war. After a long peace the army had been too expensive to upkeep and that little force of city watch and noble guard was not nearly enough to keep off any attackers, and the land and it’s crop growing farms and shepherds had nothing to put up to the Calgarians, sometimes he passed near enough a house to see bodies hung up in trees close by, or just put on a sharpened pole as you did in the old days as capital punishment. Egin never got close but rather added distance to everything that could hold danger