Kirstin followed Kamil through an almost visible foot path in the woods, bobbing between trees, stopping to climb over a rather large pine that had been felled years ago and was still decaying. She thought his travel was random at first, but then she heard him call to someone far off. She froze when her foot found a brittle twig under the snow and Kamil spun to look behind him. Hidden in the shadow of the felled tree there was nothing for him to see. He continued to walk and again he called out ahead of him. He slid down a small gulley and vanished from sight. Kirstin broke from her cover and ran after him, pulling her sword free of her scabbard for no reason she could think of. It simply seemed like he was heading into danger. The soldiers at the border wall told them that demorn were rampant to the north. Could Kamil be mistaking one of the demorn for a lost traveler? She leapt down the gulley, landing at the bottom and pausing only to see if Kamil had noticed her. It appeared that he didn't because he was already clear of the small frozen trench that the gulley formed. Following his prints in the snow, she came to the mouth of the gulley and watched as Kamil stood no more than fifty feet ahead of her, talking to the open air. Ducking behind a large rock that stood erect from the wall of the gulley she waited with baited breath. What was he doing? She couldn't see a soul out there in the field. Suddenly Kamil spun to face her, fear contorting his face. He held out a hand toward the rock that Kirstin was hiding behind.
"Kirstin! Go back to the camp! You're making Sara angry by following us!"
"Sara?" Kirstin said, standing straight, "What are you talking about, Kamil?" Then there was a rush of freezing air behind her, like a gale force coming down from the skies just above her. Kirstin spun about with her sword before her and stared face to face with a young woman that would be beautiful if her eyes weren't hollow sockets, pale fire leaking from them like morbid tears. She smiled at Kirstin, and behind that smile was the stench of death, old death. Then a petite, fragile hand clamped over her face, fingers finding hold in her warm flesh, and tossed her right back out of the gulley like some discarded piece of trash. Kirstin could hear Kamil cry out hoarsely and then she collided with a tree. Her shoulder popped sharply and the sword flew clean of her grasp. Blood flowed into her right eye, partially blinding her and she collapsed to the forest floor. The dull ache in her shoulder and head became a pounding rage, and finally she succumbed to it, blacking out.
Cameron was the first to find Kirstin laying half embedded in the snow. The cold white surrounding her was slowly changing to bright red. Cameron placed a hand under her stomach and gently rolled her over. She moaned softly and her eyes rolled back into her head before the lids closed. Ferrin and Verion were just behind him, the centiant gritting his teeth as hard as he held his staff, every nerve on edge from the smell of undeath that lingered in the air.
"Father!" Cameron yelled. Damien slid in the snow just before the gulley, almost tripping over Kirstin's body. Jared was right behind him, crouching low to the ground and eyeing the still forest.
"In the name of the One God, I beseech thee for the strength..."
"Who could have done this?" Jared asked quietly. "It couldn’t have been the demorn. There are only two sets of tracks in the snow. The demorn never take care to hide the numbers they travel in."
"It was not the demorn," Verion said in a deep baritone, "Something dead has been here. Its scent is strong, as is Kamil Dravan's. I first noticed the mingled scents when we were upon the docks in Twin Port. Something has hold of him, I think."
"You think?" Cameron barked at him, "What, Verion? What has hold of him?"
"It's known as the unforgiven. A restless soul punished by the One for evils committed in this life. Their punishment is that their body is taken away and their soul is left to linger here. This limbo's agony can only be placated by bonding with a mortal being. It takes time as it slowly drains the person's life from them."
"How do you know all of this, Benmont?" Cameron asked him.
"I don't have time to explain. Just follow me. We have to find Kamil now."
Cameron muttered, "And they say I'm the one who keeps secrets?" Benmont only glared at him before leaping down into the gulley. Ferrin was right behind him, daggers at the ready.
"Jared, can I trust you to watch over the father while he tends to Kirstin?" Cameron asked.
"I so swear it," Jared replied, clasping the warrior's armored shoulder and smiling warmly at him, "I never meant to cause such chaos by asking you about your past, Cameron."
"I know," he said before turning back to the gulley, "Verion. Follow me." He leapt down after Benmont and had to struggle to keep up with the casual pace that Verion set beside him. The thick snow meant nothing to a man that natural barriers couldn't hinder. The four followed Kamil's tracks into the edge of a snowy glade where a perfect circle of trees rounded a flat sheet of rock. The rock was covered in thick layers of ice and Kamil was kneeling on the other side, looking quite surprised at the forest ahead of him.
"Sara?" he called out, eyes blinking in a daze, "Where did you go?"
"Kamil! Are you out of your mind?"
At Cameron's voice Kamil shot up, wavering from weakness. The youth stared daggers at the lot of them, mouth contorting into a snarl. There were lines of fresh blood leaking from both of his wrists.
"The evil is very near," Verion cautioned quietly. Ferrin was hissing like a cat who had its hackles raised.
"Fools!" Kamil screeched at them, his voice carrying in the still night, "Go away! Sara will never come back if you don't go away! She loves me! She came back from the other side to be with me! Go away!"
"When did you lose your mind, Kamil Dravan?" Verion asked as he raised an eyebrow. "This thing is not this Sara you speak of. She is using you. Her true nature would only be revealed to you when the curtain of death falls. Then you will be as lost as she. Do not walk that path, Kamil Dravan."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Kamil screamed at the centiant. He jumped up on the rock, hands clenched into fists. "Sara! Come back, Sara!"
"You ingrate!" Cameron growled at him. “We should go and let you stay with this thing that you love so much! It's only because of Benmont that we're even standing here! I have half a mind to leave you to your fate, but I won't abandon you just yet. Verion, get him and let's get out of here."
"No!" Kamil screeched angrily, pulling his sword off his waist and swinging at the centiant when he neared him. Verion ducked the blow and plucked the blade out of Kamil's hand with so much ease. Then the air became frigid as something descended on Verion. It took no shape, only a swirling mass of sentient air that gibbered and whispered. It struck the centiant and made him stagger, clutching at his face as frost sprung up there. He fell to his knees as the dark colored cloud came back for him, hissing through the air and clawing for his throat. It was turned away with a chilling cry of dismay when Benmont towered over the centiant, brandishing the quarter staff that now glowed with secret power. Kamil leapt off the stone amidst the chaos and swept up his sword, leveling it at them. His face was covered with sweat. It matted his reddish hair to his face. He panted as if he had just finished running twenty miles.
"Look at yourself, Kamil. This thing is killing you! Take one look and tell me that it isn't!" Cameron said as he circled the flat stone, blade ready to fend off Kamil's blows. Then, in the span of an eye blink, there was a woman standing behind him. She was flaxen haired and prim with her trim skirt and bodice. Her hands were clasped in front of her and she sported a pretty smile that was almost disarming.
"You," Cameron stopped stalking toward the youth as the young woman wrapped a frail arm around his shoulders. "You're that wench he met in Casteel. You had him even then, didn't you?"
"I confess that I did," she told him, the smile never wavering, "My name is Maria Murough. I was from Casteel, a long time ago, at least. That was before I became what I am now."
"We'll not let you take Kamil," Cameron warned her, and she began to laugh at him.
"He is mine, warrior. I will not surrender him when he is almost fully under my sway." She turned and kissed him then, placing her lips against his. Cameron rushed them, bounding over the rock and slashing at her, only to find that she wasn't there. Kamil overbalanced from her sudden disappearance and spilled into the snow. A blast of cold air at his back gave him only a second's warning before she appeared there. Cameron swung low on one knee, cutting his blade right through her midriff and out the other side, burying the tip into the trunk of a tree. Her hollow, burning eyes fixed his and she smiled. A hand shot out and clamped down on his throat, lifting him off of his feet.
"Did no one tell you warrior? No weapon made by mortal hands may harm me. What good is bare steel to one that has already felt the embrace of death? You are a fool."
She tossed Cameron into one of the trees, knocking the breath from his body as Benmont spun his quarter staff at her. She bobbed low, and then jumped over his second strike, bringing in a dainty fist and punching him so hard that he stumbled back and tripped over a portion of the rock.
A face that melted into Sara's the instant that Kamil looked at her smiled pleasantly back at him. She held out a hand to help him stand when Ferrin flung himself on her, both daggers swinging in lethal arcs. Maria twisted between both attacks, reaching out with twisted fingers to take hold of him. Ferrin pushed with his spindly legs and was air borne, flipping with graceful ease clean over her. He landed and rolled left, anticipating an attack. Maria came for him, or rather the place that he had been only a second previous, and he put both daggers through her head in a vain attempt to slay her. A quick backhand made him rock to his heels, limp hands letting the cold steel fall from his grasp. A second blow made him crumple to the ground like a felled deer. He lay there in a shambled heap, bleeding from a deep split in his forehead.
"Beloved," Sara/Maria spoke to Kamil, "Your so called companions are trying to kill me. Will you not aid me in hastening their demise? This way there will be no one to see that we will ever be apart."
Kamil looked up into Sara'a pleading eyes and his lips trembled. "They are my friends," he told her.
"You would choose them over me? When they have attacked me?"
"I...I cannot kill them. I cannot do what you ask of me, Sara. I will not turn on them."
"Kamil!" she shrieked, and for an instant he could see beyond the illusion, the pretty deception that made him blind to the truth. But it was smoothed over like a wrinkle in a dirty shirt. "Forgive me, beloved, for yelling so at you. I will attend to them. And then we will be together."
She turned back at the last to finish Ferrin as he lay there, but put a hand over her eyes when Benmont stood there, guarding his fallen friend. The staff he held in both hands glowed, making her form seem less tangible. She hissed at him.
"You will not kill my companion, witch!" Benmont yelled at her, "Not unless you kill me first!"
"So be it," Maria said plainly. In a flash she leapt for him, fingers hooked to tear at him, her ashen face a mask of hatred. Benmont lunged in and cut a swath through the air, missing her as she flew over him, coming down behind him and hastening for his throat. Kamil jumped in between them, holding his hands out to show that he was unarmed. Maria skidded to a halt, trying to smooth her face of the rage that boiled in her eyes.
"Sara! Please don't do this! Why must it be like this?"
"Kamil, move away from him!" Maria hissed.
"I cannot!" Kamil told her, almost on the verge of tears as he lowered his blade before her, "If this is what it must come to, then I will have to stand against you!"
"Against me?" Maria bellowed laughter, her hands on her hips. "If that is what you wish, my beloved, then I shall not deny you!" A scream of rage tore free of her as she leapt for Kamil, the beauty melting from her form until only a haggard crone remained where Sara had been. Skin clung tightly to the bone beneath and her fanciful cloth became ragged tatters, barely holding onto a body that was not fit for them. Long, dark nails ran from the ends of her wasted fingers and her eyes were Hell fire, roaring pits of yellow and red that burst from empty sockets. "I will simply kill you all!" it cried at him.
Screaming, Kamil sliced down with his sword but succeeded in burying it into earth only, as it clove right through the unforgiven's head as if she wasn't there. It cackled its delight and swiped for his head. Only Verion tackling him at the legs and bringing him to the forest floor kept him from losing it. As it was it peeled open two long, vertical gashes along his chin and all the way to his hairline.
Benmont was there waiting when Kamil went down, bringing his staff into Maria's shoulder and all the way out of her body at her hip. It wasn't like cutting through air, but more like pushing a paddle in water. Benmont almost fell when there was nothing more to go through. Maria fell as well, clutching at her entire chest with bony hands and screaming in a language that was as ancient as she. Benmont pushed off with his right heel and buried the staff in her head. She went stock still when he plucked the wooden weapon back out of her, first quivering from the blow and then losing coherence, becoming as intangible as the winds that she seemed to command. Then the screams faded into the night and there was nothing to mark that Maria Murough had ever been, save for the bleeding wounds she had dealt them.
"Where is she?" Kamil asked as Verion helped him to his feet. "Is she...dead?"
"I cannot say," Verion replied, "One that has met death may not be capable of being destroyed a second time. Perhaps she was merely banished for a time. Or perhaps she has passed on, her curse ended at last. It is all speculation, of course."
"Ferrin," Benmont mouthed as he lowered himself to look at him, "Ferrin, are you alright?" The thin youth opened his eyes and nodded a yes, then closed them again. His face was covered in bright red. He shook violently from the cold. Cameron was standing, using his sword as a crutch. He limped some on his right leg, flinching every time he put weight onto it. Benmont scooped up Ferrin in his thick arms as Verion helped Cameron, letting the warrior lean against him.
"This is all my fault," Kamil said, sitting hard on the flat stone, holding his head in his hands. Blood dripped off of his chin, staining the snow beneath him. Verion hauled Cameron over to the rock where Kamil was resting and let the warrior sit. He gritted his teeth as he sat down, planting his sword into the ground. He only gave Kamil a sour look.
"What were you thinking, Kamil?" Cameron asked, "How could you think, even for a second, that the thing we just fought was a human? She could have killed you, killed all of us! Is this what you've been doing every time that you came for a walk?"
"I don't remember," Kamil spoke quietly. "Sometimes I came to her. I don't know if it was all the time. I'm sorry, Cameron. I'm sorry for all of this. I couldn't have known it would end this way!" He suddenly shot up, eyes wide as he spun to face Cameron, "On no! Kirstin! Is Kirstin alright? Tell me that she's alright!"
"Damien was tending to her when we left him. The father is a skilled healer. I'm sure that she'll be fine."
"She is fine, Cameron," the priest told him as they entered the grove of trees. Jared came before the priest, his ax in both hands, ready for battle. Damien helped Kirstin along, the young woman stumbling as she struggled to keep up with the father's long strides. Damien's face paled after he scanned each one of them. "Name of the One. What happened here?"
"I led them into danger, father," Kamil said, "They fought something that I believed to be Sara. But it was evil. It tried to kill them. If it wasn't for Benmont she might have killed us all."
"Sara?" Kirstin shook her head at him, her lips pursed, "Kamil, you thought that Sara was still alive?"
"I don't know what I thought. I don't know what else to say, except that I'm sorry, and thank you for helping me." Kamil sheathed his sword and straightened, swiping blood from his face with an open hand, "I swore some time ago that I would not be a coward," he spoke loudly for all of them to hear, "My cowardice almost cost me the life of my father," he looked at Jared with those last words. "But it seems that I have broken that promise before I even made it. I was so afraid to let Sara go, to allow death to claim her that I deceived myself. I want to make amends to all of you. Tell me what to do to redeem myself and I'll do it."
Ferrin signed something as Benmont cradled him in his arms. Damien watched him sign and frowned, shaking his head.
"What did he say, father?" Kamil asked.
"He said that you might begin paying him back by not trying to make long speeches anymore." Kamil cracked a smile in Ferrin's direction.
"I can carry him if you want, Grim."
"He's not so heavy," Benmont shrugged, walking past Kamil, back to the camp sight. Ferrin clasped his hands together feebly and batted his eyes at Benmont, who made a show of ignoring the frail youth.
"Father," Jared asked, "How can you tell what he just said?"
"He's mute, Jared. He uses a language called sign. I had never heard of it either until I met Ferrin in Hamla."
"I thought he was just itching his fingers or something of the like." Damien laughed loudly, patting Jared on the back as they aided the others back to the camp. That night Damien spent most of his time and nearly all of his energy healing wounds. Ferrin was the worst of them. His slight frame could hardly take the damage that the unforgiven had delivered to him. Cameron waited until the last. The warrior bore his pain better than most, telling the priest stoically that they were only more scars. They still broke camp that morning, tying their bedrolls to the backs of their saddles and riding further north. Damien was slumped in his saddle, bundled with two blankets and his cloak. Ferrin kept him upright as the priest slept in the saddle, not even rousing when the horse trampled over a groove in the road. By early afternoon there was no more road to follow and the northern horizon was filled from one side to the next with the Canvese Mountains. They were only pronounced points of stone that dominated the lower sky, but even from afar they were immense.
"How are we going to traverse them?" Kirstin asked, looking doubtfully toward the north.
"The old fashioned way, Kirstin," Cameron answered, keeping time with her horse. "By the way, how do you feel?"
"I'm fine Cameron," she told him, shooting him a grateful smile, "I'm more worried about Damien now. He seemed to wipe himself out healing all of us."
"I hear that magic does that to a body."
"Magic?" Jared asked, riding up beside them. He reined his horse slower when he came onto Cameron's right. "I thought that Damien was a priest of the One. I heard him pray to the One while he tended to Kirstin here. His strength is far different than that of the saevant."
"What do you know of the saevant, master Tombes?" Kirstin asked, her curiosity peaked.
"It is true, Cameron, when you implied that I was imprisoned for leading the insurrection. I would have died there. Darius signed my death warrant, possibly fearing that I would escape and begin another revolt. The One knows I made him angry when they brought me before him in his throne chamber. At any rate, I was rotting in the dungeons of Dagoth when a saevant came to me. This wizard told me that I was to be a player in a greater game then my ambitions allowed or some other nonsense. He called himself Nightwind."
"What?" Cameron pulled his horse closer to Jared's, "Nightwind? Are you sure that was his name?"
"It was. Do you know this wizard?"
"Know him well enough not to trust what he does. The saevant do nothing without a purpose and aid no one without exacting some kind of payment. What else did Nightwind say to you?"
"Not much. And I didn't care to hear it, either. I ran after I was out of the castle, as fast and as far as I could. I had many friends, sympathizers that watched the rebellion from afar. They hid me as I sought to escape the kingdom. You can bet a thousand gold to one piece that the king had men all over the land hunting for me."
"How did you come to meet up with Benmont, master Tombes?" Kirstin queried.
"My running and hiding brought me clear to the western coast. The village of Fahl, to be exact. An old farmer there was a friend of the family. Rumors abounded of these children that the king wanted so badly. It seems that the lot of you have some fame about you."
"I never wanted to be famous," Kirstin admitted to him.
"I'd call it something more like infamy," Cameron added.
"And being the former leader of the Honor Guard isn't?" Kirstin shot back, hand on her hip. She gave him a defiant stare.
"I think I liked it better when you were more meek," Cameron said, snapping the reins of his horse and riding to the head of the party. Jared chuckled as he fell back beside the priest and Ferrin.
Four days of travel passed by, and on the third day the road bent to a sharp left, leading to the city of Ohm. Cameron made his horse leap over the small ditch at the edge of the highway and looked back at the rest of them, beckoning them to follow.
"Isn't there another road to travel?" Damien asked as he looked down the highway toward Ohm. The road was fairly trampled with recent traffic. Both wagons and horse mounted riders had been along the roadway in the recent past. He didn't relish travelling in the wild.
"I'm afraid not, father," Cameron smiled at the priest. "Not if you want to travel north as you said."
"Let us go, then."
The land was open field for their fourth day of travel, with low hills and swampy valleys that were frozen over from the winter's touch. A vast and looming forest lay ahead of them before the northern mountains could be reached, and those were only three days of travel at most. Verion advised travelling north east after they broke camp for that night, telling them that there are ridges in the mountain steppes where horses might be able to travel them. If not, he told them matter of fact, the journey would continue on foot.
The next day, during a powerful wind storm, they came upon an old derelict barn that was standing in the midst of a broad field. As wind and snow tore at them Cameron brought them through the broken doors of the barn where only a few gusts crept inside. The barn groaned, the wood wavering in splintering agony as the storm sought to blow it over. A loft stood high over their heads, a rickety ladder wound its way up to the top of the loft and wisps of old, stale hay came spraying down periodically with bursts of snow. Ferrin was quick to leap off of the good father's horse and climb the ladder, making his way up the rotting wood faster than most people could sprint over flat ground. When he peeked his head over he leapt right back down, almost falling through the floor when he landed. Cameron and Jared were off of their horses in a heartbeat, weapons ready when a heavily cloaked man peered over the edge at them.
"I see you have made it this far," said a high pitched familiar voice from inside the cowl. Cameron frowned.
"The last time I saw you, wizard, was at Cromley Tower, spewing lightning from your fingertips and killing every man in sight."
"Not true," Nightwind said, amusement creeping into his tone, "I spared you, didn't I?"
"What do you want, Nightwind?"
"I bring warning to you. The king of Dagoth is making ready to wage war with Avalon. Even now he is mounting an army to combat the Eagle. It is an army more immense than any this land has ever seen. The Eagle may very well meet his undoing in this battle. He has the might of the Honor Guard moving in stealth as well."
"What does he have the Honor Guard doing?" Jared questioned, hand still resting on his ax haft. Nightwind craned his head, making the cowl twitch. Jared fashioned he could almost see a smile on the saevant's pasty face.
"You have come here as well, I see. This is good. You may yet serve a purpose in the coming times."
"Answer the man's question!" Cameron yelled.
"I understand your interest, warrior. He had sent them north of the Crossing. They are hunting for you. The Honor Guard has standing orders to find and eliminate you."
"The king of Dagoth has a wizard on his side," Damien added in, "I think his name is Moondark. He attacked me in the realm of dreams. He very nearly killed an elderly priest named San Deviol."
"Moondark, you say? I have heard of him. He is powerful in the ranks of the saevant. Curious that the king would have him as an ally. How were you able to survive his attack?"
"Only through the One's good graces, I am sure," Damien replied. That seemed to provoke another thin lipped smile from him.
"Why do you aid the humans, saevant?" Verion questioned, trying to get close enough to catch the wizard's scent. The saevant was standing upwind, however, giving him nothing to catch.
"I aid them because it is in my best interest to do so, centiant. I cannot have a ruler such as Darius Steelbreeze taking command of Umbriel. Nor would my fellow magi wish for him to take so much power here. He is too given to whim, and therefore cannot long keep a mantle of any power before disaster quickly follows."
"How soon can we expect the Honor Guard to find us?" Damien questioned.
"With a wizard as an ally, perhaps not long at all."
"Darius dare not use the power of the saevant as a public showing. There are laws forbidding the use of saevant as council or military allies that stem all the way back to the Magi Slayer War," Cameron interjected, and the wizard laughed at him.
"What care has a man that treads the ground Darius Steelbreeze does? Think you that he cares if a law created two hundred years ago is violated, so long as it serves his purpose? The man's ambition is great, greater than most humans I have ever encountered. In some ways, he is much like Bryan Stormfyre. I have heard that the king has begun to hang bodies from the walls of the castle, like grisly ornaments. He calls them traitors to the Blazing Sword banner. Nobility from all across the southern lands are funding his campaigns now, hoping that the next body found on that wall is not one of their own."
"That's brutal!" Kirstin exclaimed, cupping a hand over her mouth. Another laugh followed her statement.
"Brutal, child; yes. But fear motivates where thoughts of greed and promises of glory fail. It is the basest instinct in all humans. With the current state of decay, I fear that no force in this land can stop Dagoth now."
"Perhaps there is," Jared countered, turning from the wizard to look back at the children. "I have a proposition for you, if you would hear me. I think that we might be able to use the king's own mistakes against him. Namely, the three of you." Kirstin raised an eyebrow while Benmont fairly growled at the comment. Kamil remained silent, intent to hear what the man had to say.
"He has slandered your name, and it is commonly known now, though no one would dare to admit it, that the king's bastard heirs elude him. As Nightwind says, the people to the south live in fear because they know that there is nobody to stand against him."
"I don't like the direction this is going," Cameron muttered but Damien nudged him with an elbow to silence him.
"The people need a symbol, someone or something to stir their blood, make them wish to fight back against Darius! I roused them once, pricking the farm hands and merchants of the land until they took up arms and we fought bitterly against the kingdom. I think that if the son or daughter of the king voiced their defiance to the masses, we may be able to win over the people. With the Honor Guard coming this way and the bulk of Dagoth's forces heading shortly after, this would be the best time to strike! Together we may be able to form an army! Surely the remnants of Southcross's vassals would stand with us!"
"Are you crazy?" Kamil asked the man, "I've hardly begun to learn how to wield a sword, much less lead an army against Dagoth! And I hardly want to step into the lion's den!"
"The plan is cunning, warrior," Nightwind said, "Perhaps you are more ambitious than I have given you credit for."
"I will fight alongside you, Jared," Benmont told him, reining his horse closer to the man. "I will help you raise your army, if you think it will work. I have travelled too long hoping for vengeance. Perhaps I'll find that vengeance through justice."
"There is noble blood in your veins, Benmont Grimnight," Jared told him, "And it has naught to do with your father." Benmont only nodded, taking the comment curtly. Kirstin blanched and rode over to Benmont, her face troubled.
"Grim, are you sure that you want to do this? You'll be travelling back south. The wizard just told us that the Honor Guard is on their way here. What if you happen upon them?"
"Umbriel is a large country, Kirstin," Benmont said with a smile, "I will be fine. And if this aids our cause, then I suppose that I've done my part, haven't I?"
"Think about this, Benmont," Damien approached him at a canter, "How will you go about this? It would be you and Jared trying to form an army. Insurrections aren't looked well upon. Those found guilty are punished by hanging, I hear."
"Frightening me won't change my mind, father. I'm going south with Jared. You have your vision, and now I see that I have mine." Damien said nothing more, only looked at him and smiled sadly.
"He won't be alone, father. I am going with him."
Damien looked about to find Kamil riding over to Benmont, hand resting on his sword. The big man looked startled at Kamil's revelation, chuckling and telling him that he supposed any help was good help.
"Are you sure about this?" Cameron asked the pair of them. Kamil only nodded, though he already seemed to be thinking it over again. Benmont clapped Cameron on the arm.
"You said that losing yourself in vengeance is a foolish act. Well, let us pray that I have chosen more wisely this time, eh?"
"It is settled then," Nightwind said from where he was perched on the hay loft, "I have the power to take you where you wish to go. Name the village, and I shall send you there. You have only to ask."
"That would make matters easier," Jared replied, then fixed a suspicious gaze on Nightwind. "What do we end up owing you, wizard? Is there some kind of invisible string attached to this marvelous offer?"
"Marvelous offer?" Nightwind laughed heartily, "It seems that none of you know very much about the power a saevant can bring to bear. I will send you south with the hopes that you raise your army. Nothing more."
"Very well then," Kamil stated more calmly then he felt, "If you will send us anywhere we choose, then send us to the village of Hamla. I know there are people there that will rally to our cause. It will be a good beginning to build a base upon, don't you think?" Kamil asked Jared. The man flashed him a smile as he smoothed his sleeves out.
"Hamla will be a good start," he echoed.
Kirstin went first to Benmont, hugging him until he began to turn red with embarrassment. She stepped back and kissed his cheek. "You will take care of yourself, Benmont Grimnight?"
"Of course," he told her.
"That's good," she replied, "Or else I'd have to think of something to tell Deila Shar, now wouldn't I?" Benmont turned another shade of red and muttered something under his breath before making his way back to his horse. Ferrin stopped him and mimicked Kirstin gesture, hugging the big man as far around as his spindly arms could reach. Ferrin pulled back, mock tears gleaming in his eyes, dabbing at them with his shirt sleeve.
"I'm moved as well, Ferrin," Benmont mouthed, "Now give me back my coin purse." The youth broke into a broad toothed grin and held out an open hand. Benmont snatched the purse back before climbing onto his steed. Kamil embraced Kirstin in a hug, whispering for her to take care. Kirstin gently kissed his cheek in turn.
"You take care as well, both of you. I want to see you again after this madness is over, my brothers."
"I wish you swift travel, sister," Kamil returned, his eyes over bright. Damien said his goodbyes to the pair, and then to Jared when Nightwind appeared from the shadows along the wall.
"I am touched by all of the emotional sentiment, but time is of the essence. Are you ready?" the wizard asked them. They nodded agreement. Raising his hands into the chill air his high toned voice rose in pitch, a simple, delicate phrase chanted in succession over and over, each time the inflections falling upon a different syllable. Damien's skin crawled as he listened to the phrase.
"Okd me So-en phoa non!" The words spilled from the wizard's mouth until a tempest all unto itself exploded inside the barn, a vortex of magic swirling and glowing as it descended on the trio, wrapping them in a brilliant and enormous beam of light. The light shown so brightly that it seemed the sun itself had come to roost in the loft of the barn. The tumult died off quickly, and where Benmont, Kamil and Jared were standing was now empty.
"I suppose I should thank you Nightwind..." Cameron began but stopped when he realized that the wizard had transported himself along with the three. "That just figures."
"They will do well," Verion stated from where he stood near the entrance, "Now come. The wind has fallen and I must leave this place. The stench of magic lingers thickly and is burning my nostrils." Cameron ordered everyone to mount up and they left the old barn, heading northeast. Only after they had crossed one of the snowy hills, putting the barn out of sight, that it vanished from sight, winking away as if it had never been. The wind howled through empty field and somewhere in that roar was the echoing sound of sorcerous laughter.
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