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[{IRS}Athos]

Rindar brushed leaves from the back of his white robes and stood up as the elfling dashed off further into the Ebonwood. He smiled indulgently at the laughing children who dashed between the sable trees.

"Amazing how things have changed," he said softly to himself.

Erina came up from behind him, an infant held gently in her arms. "Our wounds and the wounds of the woods are long healed," she said. "Your stay here seems to have worked wonders on you, although you are a far harder man than you were in the past."

Rindar closed his eyes. "It has been too long since I last walked beneath these trees," he said. "It does my heart good to see the changes worked since... since I departed. But this will never again be my home." He looked up at the branches of the young tree he had been sitting under: the tree that Anar and Tariel had painstakingly planted so long ago. They rested together under its shadow, together in death.

"I understand," said Erina sympathetically, patting the child on the back as it whimpered fitfully.

"There is no use in living in the past," said Rindar finally. "You have rebuilt this village, and started your lives anew." He closed his eyes again, letting the sun play across his face. The rest of the words he left unspoken. I never could. I never did.

"Will you be staying much longer?" asked the elfling. Rindar started: he hadn't noticed the little girl running up behind him. He crouched down and patted her on the head.

"Not much longer. Astariel says we must be moving on."

"If she says so, then you'd better," said the little girl sternly. "Mama says that she's the only one with sense in your group."

"Did you really?" said Rindar, raising an eyebrow at Erina. She hid a smile.

"Rindar!" That was Byron, striding across the glade with his usual energy. He had grown from a slender boy into a tall, broad-chested man. His morning star, a souvenir of the battle at the Maughold, still dangled from his belt. Like Rindar, he wore white robes under his armor. All those who had traveled with Astariel, both past and present, did the same. "Glad to see that you haven't been chased halfway across the forest," he said, shooting a deathly glare towards the little girl, who giggled. "It saves me the trouble of looking for you."

"Are we to leave, then?" asked Rindar.

"Not quite yet," said Byron. "Astariel merely requests that you have your posessions ready to leave at tomorrow's dawn." There was a question in his eyes for Rindar, and the elf noticed it. Will you be coming with us?

"Tell Astariel that she needn't worry," said Rindar. "I'll be there." Byron nodded after a pause. Rindar had made his decision. The young man strode off to gather the other disciples.

The little girl looked solemnly at Rindar as he watched Byron go. "Will you be coming back?"

Rindar looked down at her. "Perhaps."

"Promise," commanded the girl imperiously. Rindar smiled.

"I promise," he said.

[{IRS}Athos]

Rindar left without any goodbyes. He didn't trust himself to keep calm if he bade farewell to the friends of his youth. Instead, as Astariel, Byron, and the others exchanged cheerful farewells with the elven villagers, Rindar slipped out through the trees, moving with almost undetectable stealth. He moved up along the group's path for a quarter of an hour before settling down to wait for them.

As the disciples moved past, Rindar slipped into their midst, acting as if he'd been there the whole time. Astariel, however, was not fooled. She dropped back to talk to him while the others went up ahead.

"I understand that leaving here was hard on you," she said, "and I am sorry for that. It couldn't be helped if you were to continue traveling with us."

Rindar shrugged. "All for the best, I suppose," he said.

Astariel read the question that he was determined not to ask in his eyes. "We left because I recieved an urgent message from Tyrendos," she said. Rindar raised an eyebrow. From what he'd gathered of Tyrendos, the Paladin didn't seem like the type to ask for help. Then again, maybe he'd changed over the past few years. Most of them had.

"Tyr was never one to ask for help," said Astariel, saying the very thing Rindar was thinking, "so I knew that when he asked for help, it was indeed urgent. His splinter group of Paladins is... shall we say, in a conflict with a larger group, led by Ouranos."

"That would probably mean a great deal if I'd heard of Ouranos," said Rindar. Astariel cracked a dry smile.

"I had forgotten that, out of all of our group, you and Byron are the only ones who don't have at least some background in the Palatinate. Ouranos was a high-ranking member of the Palatinate, but he was demoted shortly after my expulsion for something. Heresy, I believe... I don't remember exactly what the substance of it was, but apparently the head took it rather too seriously."

"Vayu?" asked Rindar, feeling somewhat of a chill. Although he'd only had one experience with the mage-knight, he was still acutely aware of the vast power the man had wielded. Still wielded, maybe. The corpse of the man called Cold Wind had been found, but had Vayu died with it? That remained to be seen.

"Yes," said Astariel. "Tyrendos wished for no conflict with Ouranos, but Ouranos saw him as a threat, and a lackey of Vayu."

"So we're going to help with the negotiations?" added Rindar.

"With the negotiations, yes," said Astariel seriously. "Both men are honorable, and if Tyrendos and Ouranos continue their conflict, it will be of great detriment to the Light. This we cannot afford, lest the Umbar come out of the shadows once more."

"So where are we headed?"

"Mirmida."

[{IRS}Athos]

The Mirmidan peninsula was a scattered collection of towns and city-states. The mightiest, Ateni, was the hometown of the former Paladin Ouranos, and it was there that the Noble Warriors were headed. Astariel said little on the road, and her silence was catching. They often marched for hours without saying a word.

Byron's thoughts were worried and haphazard. He worried for the safety of the party in coming between two groups of warring Paladins. To involve themselves in such a conflict could be dangerous, especially since Astariel's group would be reluctant to go up against any fellow followers of the Light. If the confrontation came to blows, he had no doubt that Astariel could take care of herself, but he also knew that each blow she struck would cut her to the heart. He could not in good conscience allow her to stay if matters became bloody.

Rindar spent most of the march in a downcast state. He knew that his bow would serve Astariel better at her side than in his village, but he couldn't help wishing that he had stayed behind in the Harrow. To see the survivors of that long-ago massacre had awakened both joy and grief within him. Leaving before he could properly grasp what he felt had left him confused and gloomy.

Astariel's musings strayed to the others, taking in their hopes and their fears. She hoped sincerely that none would perish in the days that were to come: to have the deaths of her disciples on her conscience would be worse than anything she could imagine.

They arrived outside the gates of Ateni two fortnights after they had left the Harrow. The disciples viewed the ancient pagan temples with a mixture of awe and contempt. Although they could barely comprehend the scope and scale of the crumbling monoliths, neither could they understand why the Mirmidans of the past had dedicated so much of themselves to false gods.

Astariel bade most of her disciples to rest at an inn close to the city gates. Taking Byron and Rindar, along with Alexander, a Paladin and native of Ateni, she made her way to the public market where Tyrendos awaited them.

Tyrendos, dressed simply, met them under the shade of a pillared court. Leaning against the marble surface, he outlined the situation of his men to Astariel and her escorts.

"Ouranos has us bottled up," he said. "Neither the civilians nor even the Custodii have noticed, but his forces are spread out to block all passage out of the center of the city. At any time, he could close his ring. I only have fifty men within the city: Ouranos has at least ten times that number. He holds the upper hand, without a doubt."

"No wonder he chose not to fight," Byron muttered to Alexander out of the corner of his mouth.

"Because of this, my men and I have been trapped in the city for the past two months. Apart from the messenger I managed to send out, nobody has managed to escape his ring. And he has been drawing it tighter. At the beginning, we could range almost the entire city. Now we're limited to the area surrounding the forum and the amphitheater. I fear for my men's lives if the ring draws tighter. Your timing is unmatched, Astariel."

"The fact that he has not attacked you yet shows that Ouranos is an honorable man," said Astariel. "He does not wish for civilians to become involved in this conflict, so he stays his hand until he can be certain that you, and you alone, fall under his sword."

"That would be comforting, save for the fact that he means to kill me," said Tyrendos with a grin. The expression was at odds with the worried crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

Rindar's sharp eyes picked a figure out of the crowd, moving swiftly but smoothly towards the edge of the forum. Although he couldn't be sure, Rindar thought that the man had at least noticed Astariel talking to Tyrendos. He caught the flash of a gauntlet in the sun as the man's hand left the shadow of his cloak. The mystery watcher wouldn't be one of the Custodii or their informants: he was Ouranos's man.

"I hate to interrupt your conversation, but it appears we have trouble," said Rindar. "We've been spotted by one of the other Paladins. How we're going to get back to the others without bloodshed is beyond me."

"We'll think of something," said Byron encouragingly, nonetheless shooting nervous glances around.

Astariel closed her eyes and said nothing. "Alexander, you know these streets. What's the fastest way out of here?"

"This way," said the young Paladin, pointing the way. He loosened his sword in its sheath. Rindar checked to see if his bow and sword were within easy reach, while Byron fingered the lengths of the chain on his morning star. Astariel held up her hand.

"I want none of them injured, even if we are attacked. You are to fight defensively. If we cannot hope to escape without bloodshed, you must surrender." She looked at them sternly. "Understand?"

"Understood, Astariel," said Byron. Rindar's eyes flashed with irritation, but he inclined his head finally.

"Understood."

"Then lead on, Alexander," said Astariel serenely. The Paladin nodded and led them off quickly through the crowd.

[{IRS}Athos]

Alexander led the trio through the crowd as Tyrendos slipped away into the shadow of another colonnade. Although their progress was hampered by the dense crowds in the forum, they were moving faster than Ouranos' messenger. The Ateni Paladin smiled tightly. "I think we're going to make it," he said. Byron looked relieved, but Rindar shook his head patronizingly.

"You have no idea what you just doomed us to," he said. Alexander glanced back at him.

"What?"

"Now that you've said that, we're doomed to be caught."

"Fatalist."

"Optimist."

"We're through," said Alexander with a slight smile as they emerged into the street. He looked at Rindar triumphantly.

"See, I told you that we'd beat him out of the crowd!"

Rindar rolled his eyes. "What's to stop Ouranos from following us back to our lodgings and cornering us, too?"

"Oh... I didn't think of that," said Alexander. There was a shout from behind them as Ouranos's man emerged from the crowd. He was no longer alone: another five men had joined him out of the shadow of a nearby doorway.

"No time to think of it now. Run!" said Rindar, taking off at a sprint through the street. Astariel, Byron, and Alexander followed, white robes streaming behind them as they sought to outdistance their footpads. Rindar grabbed Astariel by the arm and waved Byron and Alexander down a side street. "Split up! We'll meet back at the inn!" he told the others in a slightly breathless undertone.

"Right," said Byron. He and Alexander split off and vanished in between the stall of a fruit-seller and a crowd of gossiping women with baskets on their arms. Byron narrowly avoided upsetting one of their baskets and hurried away.

"Light be with you," muttered Astariel as she followed Rindar in the opposite direction.

[Vortigern]

Tyrendos slipped away into the crowd while Astariel and her friends made their escape, thinking quickly. If Ouranos's men were following him now, that meant things had escalated. And that meant that what Tyrendos was planning next would not be the first move, which was a relief. That also means I should be able to justify it to Astariel, he thought. Ever since the Maughold three years ago she had become one of the most respected and well-known of all the new Orders, despite being a member of none of them, and Tyrendos was loathe to risk her friendship. But he needed information.

He settled in behind the three following Astariel and the elf, keeping watch on them as their fleet-footed charges really gave them a run for their money. Tyrendos grinned quietly. Part of the training Astariel had suggested he deliver for his recruits was an extreme level of fitness. Any of his men, he included, could run for hours at a stretch in full armour, whereas Ouranos's men were already sweating heavily under the hot Mirmidan sun.

He saw his chance. One of Ouranos's men fell back from his partners, unable to keep up with the pace set by Rindar. Tyrendos moved forward, drawing his belt knife. He grabbed the man by the hair, pulling his head back and placing the knife against his throat.

"You're going to come with me," he whispered in the man's ear. "And you're going to answer some questions. If you get the answers right, I might even let you walk away when we're done."

[{IRS}Athos]

Rindar steered Astariel down another side-street and hazarded another glance back over his shoulder. "Excellent, we've lost one of them," he said. "They can't keep up with us. I'd say another street or two, and--"

Astariel shoved him to the side, narrowly avoiding running into a cart of fruit that was crossing the street. "Keep your eyes on where you're going," she instructed him firmly. "We don't want fruit-sellers on our trail, too."

Rindar grinned. "Nothing is worth getting pelted with rotten fruit, I suppose."

There was a shout from behind them as one of Ouranos' men, looking over his shoulder for his comrade, fell headlong into a wagon heaped with cabbages. His fellow slipped on one of the leafy green spheres and fell flat.

"Does rotten cabbage smell any better than rotten fruit?" asked Rindar as they left the cacophony in the distance behind them.

Astariel raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

"Not likely," said Rindar, chuckling and increasing his pace.

They reached the inn a full hour before Byron. As they waited for him and Alexander, Astariel explained the situation to the other members of their group. "Ouranos now knows that there's a group of Paladins sympathetic to Tyrendos in the city, but fortunately they lost our trail in the produce market." Rindar stifled a snicker. Astariel carried on as if nothing had happened. "However, now we know that we are in serious danger of being found out. Tyrendos never mentioned any casualties, but Ouranos is willing to kill. We must avoid him at all costs until we can open peaceful negotiations."
She nodded to the assembled Paladins. "Dismissed."

Rindar watched them filtering out of the back room by ones and twos. "And if Tyr does something rash?" he asked.

Astariel shook her head. "I don't believe he will, now that we're in the city. Still, if he has men to avenge, keeping his thirst for vengeance under control could make him into our enemy. This also we must avoid."

Rindar shrugged. "Well, if you have faith in him, that's good enough for me." He poked his head out of the back room. "Better slip the bartender another bribe. If he overheard any of our conversation, we could be surrounded by Ouranos' men come tonight."

[Vortigern]

"So," said Tyrendos, regarding his prisoner from his seat, turned away so he could lean on the back rest, the traditional pose for an interrogator. His companion through this endeavour sat facing him, tied down and fidgeting uncomfortably. "We can do this one of two ways."

"Let me guess," said the man. "The easy way or the hard way." Tyrendos smiled.

"No. The hard way or the way where you end up with no fingernails, ribs, teeth, testicles and eyes." Ouranos's man's face changed as he caught the subtle hint of crazy eyes Tyrendos was throwing his way. "Why don't you start by telling me your name."

"Frome."

"Well, Frome, you're going to tell me every last detail about your boss. Locations, plans," he paused for a moment, and leaned in conspiratorially, "secret plans, backers, opponents, numbers, everything. Would you like to see what happens if you don't tell me?" Frome shook his head. "Smart man. I've heard the bit under someone's fingernails is disgusting." Frome winced. "We'd best get started, eh?"

* * * * * * * * *

Tyrendos strolled back to the inn where Astariel and her crew were to be found, a smile on his face and a tune on his lips. The time spent with Frome had been extremely productive, and once Tyrendos had shown him the big pair of pliers he had 'borrowed' from a blacksmith, Frome had been only too happy to start spilling the proverbial.

As he walked through the marketplace on the way back, he paused to look over his shoulder. Happily, it didn't seem that anyone was following him this time. To make sure, he made his way towards a stall full of bronze wares, bowls and pans and plates polished bright and shiny as mirrors on display. Keeping his eyes firmly on the crowd behind him as he gently meandered towards the stand, or at least the reflections of the crowd, he grinned. There was the man he was looking for. The little hairs on the back of his neck very rarely steered him wrong, and they had been spot on once again.

He slowly walked up to the stand, keeping one eye on the fellow tailing him, and picked up a plate, weighing it in his hands. He replaced it, lifting instead a small bronze pendant, heavy and solid in his palm but not too big for what he had in mind. He fixed on Ouranos's man in the reflections, carefully calculating his exact location, then turned on his heel and hurled the pendant at the man: it struck him full in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Ignoring the protests of the stall owner, Tyrendos jogged over to where the man had crumpled, and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Tell Ouranos to back off. We'll stay out of his way if he'll stay out of ours. And trust me, we can make his life excruciatingly complicated." He hauled the man back to his feet, dusting off his shoulders in mock camaraderie. "Now run along home, and if I catch any of your friends tailing me their last thought will be that you got off easy. Is that clear?" The man turned away, saying nothing, striding off with what remained of his dignity. Tyrendos picked up the pendant, looping it around his neck. He tossed a gold coin down on the stall counter, far more than the little pendant was worth, in recompense for the disturbance.

His jaunty pace restored, Tyrendos carried on back to the inn.

[{IRS}Athos]

"Tyrendos!" said Astariel delightedly as the Paladin entered the front door of the inn. Rindar and Byron looked up from their late breakfast and got to their feet to greet him.

"I think you may have exaggerated the direness of the situation," said Rindar teasingly.

"Aye," agreed Byron. "The way you put it, you couldn't stray outside your homes to sh--"

"I'm just glad you made it safely here," said Astariel. "Were you followed?"

"No," said Tyrendos with an easy grin. He tapped the cheap bronze pendant hanging around his neck. "Buy one of these and everyone in Ateni will dismiss you as an outlander fool trying desperately to impress his country-born sweetheart."

"How much did the vendor charge you for it?" asked Rindar. "Not too much, I hope. There's quite a dent in it."

Tyrendos shrugged. "A gold piece."

"Light defend us, man!" cried Byron in mock horror. "How you manage to keep your men lodged and fed with such a business sense is beyond me." He shook his head, looking down to hide a broad grin. Astariel sighed.

"I'm sure that Tyrendos has a better reason for being here than being insulted by you two," she said reprovingly, hiding a smile of her own. Rindar and Byron exchanged knowing looks and returned to the remains of their meal. Astariel sat, motioning Tyrendos to sit opposite her.

"So, why are you here? Have you acquired new information in the past two hours?" she inquired.

[Vortigern]

"Oh yes," said Tyrendos with a broad smile. "A, er, contact of mine came through." Astariel raised an eyebrow at his slight hesitation, but did not press the matter, for which Tyrendos was thankful. She was a constant source of amazement to him, that after all these years she still retained such absolute purity in everything she did, even changing those around her in the process. He remembered that Byron had been a rough riding bandit when he first met Astariel, but looking at the young man now you'd never know it. Tyrendos himself had been a Paladin fallen from grace until Astariel showed him the Light again, and he had wasted no time in securing her allegiance once the Palatinate was disbanded and minor orders were being established left, right and centre. She was invaluable to any servant of the Light.

"So what have you learned?"

"Ouranos has roughly four hundred men around the city at the moment. He has a century heading up to Aiyris at the moment at the request of a friend, apparently, but the rest remain here. He has six keeps around and about, and an understanding with the Custodii whereby his men are welcome on the city walls." He paused, considering the latter datum there. He had been pondering it on the walk back as well. "You know, it might be worth formally announcing our interests here, getting some official recognition." Astariel did not appear interested in that. Instead she broached a different subject, one Tyrendos had been hoping to avoid.

"What has Ouranos done to become your enemy, my friend?" Tyrendos remained silent for a few moments, thinking his answer through. He knew these words could be life or death for his designs in Ateni, and exercised appropriate caution in his choices.

"He and I first crossed paths in the Palatinate. He was honourable, to a point, and that point seemed to be when accusations or executions would help his career. There were a couple of occasions when I seriously doubted the validity of his claims, but I may have been in error." He took a breath, watching as Astariel assimilated his account. "After the Paladins were disbanded, he and what remained of his century came out here, where he has set himself up as something more resembling a high priest than a crusader. He advises the Council, he pushes them in his directions, he siphons city funds for his headquarters and his temples..." He trailed off, still closely regarding Astariel.

"You suspect he may wish to place himself as a successor to Winter Vayu?" she queried.

"Nothing of quite the same scale," Tyrendos clarified. "But enough so that, if ignored, his sway might well grow to remind us of the Black Paladin. And that we cannot allow."

"Quite so," agreed Astariel, shaking her head thoughtfully. "I think I ought to meet Ouranos, don't you?"

[{IRS}Athos]

Rindar and Byron watched the pair as they spoke. They exchanged the occasional nonplussed look as Tyrendos gave a lecture on Palatinate politics: neither one of them gathered any information from the conversation, save that Ouranos disliked Tyrendos and Tyrendos disliked Ouranos. And that, we already know, Rindar thought. He was more concerned with Tyr's first piece of information.

An understanding with the Custodii would ensure that the city guardsmen would take Ouranos's side if matters came to a head in violence. Tyr's fifty, combined with Astariel's twenty-five, made up less than a quarter of Ouranos's force. Although this was better odds, especially since a fifth of Ouranos's force was headed away from Ateni, the support of the Custodii put their hands in a bind.

I guess that Astariel's solution is really the only solution, reflected Rindar. He muttered an elven proverb, for his and Byron's ears alone. "'One person armed with the right words can do what an army could not.' Particulary true in our situation, don't you think?" Byron nodded grimly.

"We hope."

~~~

Astariel sent Alexander and two other members of her coterie to leave a message for Ouranos at a tavern his men often frequented. All three went unarmed, and in disguise, exchanging their usual white robes and armor for the habits of monks. The message described a time, place, and terms for a meeting between Astariel and Ouranos. Each would bring no more than five of their own to the parley. Astariel hadn't bothered to stipulate that both sides be unarmed: from what she'd heard of Ouranos, he'd probably be either too cautious or too treacherous to leave his weapons behind. Rindar and Byron would bring their weapons anyway.

The meeting was set for three nights later, in front of the temple of Thamis, Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt. Astariel was confident that they could come to a compromise: Tyr had reluctantly promised to stay at an inn far away from the temple while the negotiations were taking place, knowing that his scalding tongue and quick temper would ruin Astariel's chances of reaching an agreement with the other Paladins.

"But you mustn't do anything rash in the interim. Understand, Tyr?" pleaded Astariel. "The last thing we need is for Ouranos to have fresh insults on his mind when we're trying to find a solution to this problem."

"And if his solution involves a swift volley of crossbow bolts, what then?" asked Tyrendos.

"Ouranos was--is still a Paladin," said Astariel. "I doubt he has totally forsaken his sense of honor."

"Your confidence is not shared," muttered Tyrendos as she walked away. Astariel heard, and sighed as she walked away.

The negotiations would not be easy.

[{IRS}Athos]

Rindar leaned idly against one of the massive pillars of the Temple of Thamis, toying with his knife hilt idly as he looked around at the surrounding courtyard. The night patrols of Custodii were conspicuously absent: a sure sign that Ouranos had recieved the message. Rindar wasn't sure whether to be nervous or glad that they were gone: although the city guard could cause a great deal of trouble if they were to intervene on Ouranos's behalf, their absence would also give Ouranos the perfect opportunity to dispose of all of his enemies at once. He listened to the quiet conversation of the other three Paladins as he waited.

"I suppose we should take this as a sign of good faith," muttered Alexander nervously, pacing from Rindar's pillar to the next one over. He had already gone over the worn stones of the temple entrance with a careful step, trying to determine the best footing if it came to a fight.

"Would you stop doing that?" demanded Byron irritably, straightening up. The chain of his morning star clanked as he strode up to the young Paladin. "Get a hold of yourself," he said sternly. "Astariel wouldn't lead us into a trap. Do you trust her judgement that little?"

"I mean, no offense to our leader, but sometimes I think that she's too trusting," said the swordsman Keimos in an undertone, shooting a glance to where Astariel stood in the open, waiting calmly. His inexperience was plain: despite his skill, he was only a youth of seventeen summers.

Byron rewarded him with a crooked grin. "So do I."

All three jumped as a low chuckle came from the shadows. "As does everyone else."

"Tyrendos," said Rindar. He had heard the Paladin's footsteps some time back. "What are you doing here?"

"Negotiations can hardly be held without the third party," said Tyrendos.

"Astariel told you to stay away," hissed Keimos, shooting a glance towards his leader. So far, she didn't seem to have noticed, and he hoped to keep it that way. "If Ouranos finds out you're here, he'll be furious."

"Ouranos did not include my absence in the conditions," said Tyrendos, raising his voice slightly so that he could be heard. Astariel turned her head around as he finished his sentence. "I doubt that it will matter much either way."

"I would have preferred that you stayed behind," said Astariel softly. "You put yourself at risk. I doubt Ouranos will be quick to forgive the wrongs you have done him in the past."

Tyrendos shrugged. "Whatever wrongs he imagined, I doubt he would forgive them either way."

"Too late now," muttered Keimos. "Here he comes."

The moonlight illuminated Ouranos as he strode across the courtyard, his cape billowing with the force of his stride. The Paladins with him were forced to an undignified jog to keep up with him, but Astariel doubted he was concerned with the appearance of his escorts. He had not come to impress them with a show of his force, but to talk. His force was already implied, from the greatsword hanging at his side to the clank of his armor as he moved.

"Ouranos," said Astariel, inclining her head. Her raven-black hair shone in the same moonlight that glinted off Ouranos's armor. "Hail."

"Hail, Astariel Nomana," said Ouranos formally, giving her the respectful fist-to-chest salute of the Palatinate. His dark eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched under his beard as he noticed Tyrendos standing behind her. "Tyrendos," he added, a hint of scorn creeping into his deep voice.

Rindar examined the rest of Ouranos's escort. None of them were as impressive as their leader, but all seemed battle-ready. They seemed at odds with the callow Keimos and the nervous Alexander. Well, at least we'll die honorably, thought Rindar with black humor.

"I am not here as a combatant, but as a mediator," said Astariel to open the negotiations. "You and Tyrendos were both enemies of Vayu while he lived, and to fight each other like this is the shadow of his memory come back to haunt us."

Ouranos gave a short bark of laughter. "Enemies of Vayu? That bastard expelled me from the Palatinate on trumped-up charges because he thought I posed a threat to his authority, while this boy"--he gestured to Tyrendos--"was his lapdog up until the siege of Maughold."

"Tyrendos had little choice," said Astariel. "It was obey or die."

"My lady, the boy can speak for himself," said Ouranos. "I doubt that, outside your gift for words, he could defend himself adequately." Despite Ouranos's anger, his respect of Astariel was plain. Just as well, thought Rindar. At least one of us will get out of this alive.

"Very well," said Astariel, inclining her head. "Tyrendos, if it please you, state your grievances against Ouranos. Calmly."

[Vortigern]

Tyrendos inclined his head, acquiescing to Astariel's request. When he spoke, he addressed Ouranos.

"When the Palatinate disbanded many of our brothers came here seeking refuge from the persecution Envael offered them. You took advantage of that and wove them together again in your own image, and that image is one of fine words and empty promises. In this you have revived the spirit of the Black Paladin." He paused, wondering if Ouranos would break in with a rebuttal, though he seemed to be waiting for Tyrendos to finish. "You have placed yourself as advisor to the Assembly here in Ateni and the Conclave in Aiyris that I can prove, though I am certain I would find evidence of your efforts to sway other parliaments should I take the time. In this too you have reminded us of the Black Paladin. He sought to make the Palatinate a political entity, when in truth we are a religious order seeking to defend our beliefs. You impose the tenets of the new Palatinate over the established religions of Mirmida, something we in this new guise have sworn not to do. We are supposed to be an order of tolerance, goodwill and protection, not imposition and unfair levying." Ouranos was scowling now, but he seemed to have nothing to say in his defence. Emboldened, Tyrendos carried on.

"You dwell in lavish quarters, as did our former master. You take from the taxes paid by common citizens, as did he whose name is mud among us. You claim dominion over the hearts and minds not sworn to your banner, as did our greatest enemy." He paused again, catching Astariel's eye. Her face was impassive, giving away as little as ever. Ouranos too had regained his composure, though Tyrendos would character his features more as stony. "Though I have no evidence thus far of you straying from the path of the light, I feel your lifestyle, self-presentation and political aspirations make this merely a matter of time." He looked Ouranos dead in the eyes. "I have no wish to strike down a comrade-in-arms, but nor do I wish to wait until you are too powerful for me to do so should the need arise." Ouranos regarded him, considering his words. Astariel said nothing.

"That is very noble, Tyrendos," Ouranos eventually replied. "But offers me no insight as to why you have taken my cause so personally. Would I be correct in hazarding that some greater grievance is at play here than simply your pursuit of cosmic harmony?"

"You would," Tyrendos answered evenly. "My men and I came here some six months ago, with what should by all accounts be goals shared with you. Your men drove us away, attacked us, even slew one of my own." Now Tyrendos had got to the core of his accusation. His eyes burned bright with righteous indignation, though his voice never wavered. "This is the gravest charge I bring against you now, Ouranos. Complicity in murder is punishable the same as murder itself by the rules of any civilised order from here to Gulgottir. How can you claim to serve the light when you have knowingly abetted the death of one who seeks the very same? Why have you since tried to force us out rather than make reparation and accept us as aid to your crusade? What do you have to hide?"

[{IRS}Athos]

"Murder?" demanded Ouranos sharply, his face briefly contorting in anger. His muscles flexed, and one hand strayed towards his greatsword before he mastered himself. "No, Tyrendos, it was hardly murder. Would you hold the Black Paladin justified if he claimed it was murder when one of his men was killed in a fair fight? Would you hesitate to attack him if he entered this city with an armed force but unknown intentions? No, Tyrendos, I hardly believed you came to reconcile, or indeed that reconciliation is why you are here. You are here because you are tired of fighting, and because you think the Lady Astariel's words on your behalf will permit you to leave unharmed."

He took a deep breath. "Long ago, I was a Paladin like yourself: up-and-coming in the order, full of great convictions about the service of the Light. Vayu took that all away from me. I was exiled to Mirmida: self-imposed, I admit, but I could hardly stay in the cities of the order that had cast me out. I and those loyal to me have made a new life here. Even if the Black Paladin is dead now, why would I trust one who had fought under him if he came to my gates with offers of friendship? Nay, Tyrendos, my experience in this matter goes deeper than you think." He gazed off towards the Temple of Thamis, not meeting anyone's eyes as he continued.

"True, I live in comfort. Although I am sworn to the service of the Light, I have taken no binding oath to live in penury. I do not demand a portion of the taxes; rather, that portion is freely given by the governor. He knows that my centuries of Paladins help keep the peace." He met Tyrendos's eyes. "Can you say the same for yours?"

[Vortigern]

Tyrendos's eyes flashed angrily as he stared down the taller man.

"My men have not killed anyone about whom there was any doubt of their malevolent intent. And yes, I would hold the Black Paladin responsible for every undeserved death that happened because of what he did, as do we all. The Siege of the Maughold was a fair fight, but it still wouldn't have happened if not for him, and all those who fought to defend their home would still be alive."

"What of those who fought to take away that home?" countered Ouranos. "Those like yourself, Tyrendos?" Tyrendos fought back rising bile in his throat as his contempt for the other man threatened to take over and start his fists swinging.

"You know full well we were bewitched, Ouranos. And you also know that I repented before the battle was even finished."

"Regardless, how many men did you kill before that point?"

"Five," answered Tyrendos with the same unswerving honesty Astariel had always insisted he employ. "And in their memory I have sent every extra penny we have earned to the Maughold to help those left widowed or fatherless by my actions and those of my companions. No," he continued, brushing aside Ouranos's forthcoming interruption. "I am not free of innocent blood, but I have done and am doing whatever I can to make amends for the unlawful and unrighteous acts of my past. I, like you, have sworn no vows of poverty, but I do it willingly to help those who may have suffered at my hands in the past. Which brings us once again to the point at which your men slew one of my soldiers, one of my friends. What have you done to help us, to help the family of my man who are now left bereft of their son? Clearly you have the means, but do you have the inclination to be of service to the Light?"

"I serve the Light by ridding the world of evil, as do we all," Ouranos replied stiffly.

"I would not say murder of any form increases the strength of the Light. If we end a life to prevent the spread of evil, we have still ended a life. We have chosen to sully our own lives so that the innocents of the world may have a better, purer existence. What we do does not tip the scales back in the favour of the Light, it merely prevents it swaying further towards the Darkness. It is through acts of kindness, humility, selflessness, purity and love that the balance tips in favour of the master we claim to serve with such diligence." Out of the corner of his eye Tyrendos saw Astariel smiling. He found himself surprised by how much he had come to believe her mantra these past few years. It was remarkable that even the smallest acts of kindness often had an almost instant effect, spreading happiness all around them. Humanity has such potential, she had once told him. All most people need is a gentle push in the right direction, an example of how to be better. Those words had already proven true time and again in Tyrendos's experience.

"At the risk of turning this into a philosophical matter," Tyrendos continued unabated, "what have you done to redress the balance?"

[{IRS}Athos]

Ouranos gritted his teeth in anger. "You speak of reparation. What of my men, slain by yours? Do you maintain that because first blood was drawn by me, you are not responsible for your actions until I deign to apologize for one man's death? Your Paladins have killed three of my men, and tortured more in the hopes of drawing out information about my forces. One returned only yesterday: a broken shell of a man. I know not how long ago you tortured him, but the timing suggests that you think you can escape judgement for your actions while the Lady Astariel is in the city."

Astariel looked stricken. "Tyr... please tell me you didn't do this," she said softly. Has he been lying to us all this time? she thought. Was the real reason he called us here to start a conflict that he felt was justified?

[Vortigern]

"My men have fought to defend themselves. They bear no blame in this matter." Astariel's gaze hardened as she saw Tyrendos skirting the issue.

"Did you torture his man, Tyr?" she demanded outright.

"I persuaded him to release what information he had."

"By what means?"

"More by threat than by deed."

"Tyr," she said, with a dangerous edge to her voice that Tyrendos had never heard before. "Do not lie to me." Tyrendos took a deep breath, then looked Astariel dead in the eye, sparing a glance for Ouranos.

"I did what was necessary."

"Did you torture his man?" she demanded again, not to be dissuaded with platitudes and half-truths. Tyrendos looked away, unable to match the intensity of her gaze but hiding it behind a contemptuous shrug.

"Yes." Astariel closed her eyes, sighing sadly.

"You swore to leave those methods behind you when the Black Paladin fell, Tyrendos. Do you remember how we spoke in the Maughold that day?" He nodded, preferring to remain silent rather than incriminate himself further in Astariel's eyes. "Do you remember how you promised to remember your humanity? How you promised to be a friend to all who would support the Light and stand against evil? How can you have fallen so far as to torture a fellow servant of the Light?"

"I have no regrets," he said simply.

"I must ask you to leave the city, Tyrendos. You have shown yourself unworthy of this organisation, however much I hoped you had changed. Ouranos may not be the embodiment of purity, but you have cast yourself as the villain in this play, my old friend." Tyrendos merely nodded, before turning to Ouranos.

"Then may I at least be guaranteed safe passage out of the city?" The taller man nodded. Tyrendos turned back to Astariel. "We shall meet again, Astariel, and soon. I shall pray that day has a better outcome for us all." He turned on his heel and strode away, unclasping his white cloak where it swept over his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground where it lay half in the gutter, dirty brown water and mud trickling across it.

"Might I ask that you stay, Lady Astariel?" enquired Ouranos. "I am sure you share my misgivings here." Astariel nodded.

"This tale is far from told as yet."

[{IRS}Athos]

"My apologies, Ouranos," said Astariel gravely. "I did not know of Tyrendos's recent actions against you. I would be quicker to forgive his actions, though not excuse them, if his actions had been in self-defense, trying to hold out until I arrived to mediate the conflict. But torturing a man even while I was in the city..." She shook her head. "He was wise to hide it from me, for it was not the action of a warrior of the Light."

She gave Ouranos a measuring gaze. "Do not think that your sins are forgiven, either," she said sternly. "Regardless of Tyrendos's actions, you were still wrong to kill one of his men. That final punishment should be reserved for God's hand only. I believe that you can atone for that man's death, but do not be too quick to forget."

"I have not forgotten, Lady Astariel," said Ouranos humbly. He seemed somewhat relieved that he had won her favor. He inclined his head. "Tyrendos will leave with my blessing, if not my love. I will not have him ill-provided for. I will pay for his passage out of my own coffers."

This seemed to appease Astariel. She nodded. "Do this, then. We shall confer more in the days that are to come."

"Yes, Lady Astariel."

As Astariel and her guards spoke with Ouranos's party, Rindar looked at Tyrendos's retreating back. He gave Byron a quick look and gave a small nod. Then he hurried off. His boots left more muddy prints on Tyr's fallen cloak as he headed after the "fallen" Paladin. Someone needed to keep an eye on Tyr, if not an arrow sighted on him. Astariel wouldn't approve, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

Besides, perhaps he could talk sense into the man. Astariel would certainly approve of that. Rindar followed Tyr's wet bootprints down a street that led to the forum. It seemed that he aimed to gather his men and leave without delay, lest Ouranos change his mind about safe passage.

"Tyr!" called Rindar as he rounded a corner and saw the Paladin about to enter an inn. "Wait up!"

[Vortigern]

"Go back to her side, Rindar," Tyrendos said, not even bothering to turn around. "You don't want to get involved in what lies ahead." He felt strangely calm, despite having just been banished from the city he had made his home and having an old friend turn her back on him. Perhaps it was because he had suspected it might come to that, or perhaps the reality had not yet sunk in, or perhaps any number of other reasons.

"I want to see you don't do any more harm," said Rindar a little harshly, placing a hand on Tyr's shoulder, encouraging him to stand face to face with Rindar. "Anyway, you know what Astariel's like."

"The epitome of absolute purity?" Rindar nodded, chuckling.

"She's hard to impress with anything other than perfect humility," he agreed. "Come on, we've both done things we're not proud of, but that doesn't mean we have to become something less than we are."

"I never said it would," countered Tyrendos. "I merely plan to leave the city with my chapter and settle again where the wind takes us."

"And where might that be?"

"You'd have to ask the gods," Tyrendos replied, smiling. He turned away again and opened the door of the inn. He paused as he crossed the threshold, looking back at Rindar over his shoulder. "Look to your own future, Rindar, not mine." He stepped inside and closed the door before Rindar could follow him inside. He strode up to the innkeeper, catching the portly man's eye. He nodded curtly, and the innkeeper beckoned him through the rear door.

"My lord," began the taverner. "This way, please." Tyrendos got the distinct impression he had been about to say something else, but choked it off at the last moment, not wishing to offend his patron. Tyrendos followed the man down a flight of stone steps to a cellar room behind a door reinforced with steel bands. "Your strongbox is in here, my lord," he offered.

"Then please fetch it out," Tyrendos instructed. The man entered the lock-room and returned a few moments later with a fine mahogany chest, about four feet long and one across. Inspecting the box, Tyrendos was pleased to note that there were no scratches around the keyhole. Nobody had tried to open it, not that getting through the keyhole would have achieved anything; the box was a great deal more clever than that. "Do you have a cloak?" he asked the innkeeper, and the man nodded mutely. They headed back up the stairs and the fat man pulled a thick woollen cloak from a peg behind the door. "Thank you," said Tyrendos, handing the man a small purse which jangled pleasantly as he handed it over. The taverner slipped it away inside the folds of his overcoat. "Is there a back door?" Tyrendos enquired.

"Through there, my lord," answered the man, suiting word to deed with a gesture of his right hand. "Turn right in the little courtyard, hop over the wall twenty yards down if you require a more discreet path to the street." Tyrendos allowed himself a little half-smile and thanked the man before leaving as instructed. He wrapped the box in the cloak, tying it tight and slinging it over his shoulder before he scrambled across the chest-high wall offering the less observable exit.

He made his way back to his chapter's lodgings, not detecting any watchful eyes on his back as he did so. Once inside his room, he slid the box out from the cloak, admiring the sleek dark finish to the wood before slipping a leather thong from around his neck. On the lace was a bronze peg, intricately carved and beautifully polished. He put the peg into the keyhole and with a little click a seamless panel disappeared to reveal the true keyhole, six inches further down the side of the box.

"Very clever, those dwarves," he murmured as he reversed the peg and put the less intricate end into the new keyhole, turning it in two complete circles before the box clicked open. Inside it Tyrendos could hear the mechanism working as the complicated locks fell into place to allow the lid to be lifted. He did so, and marvelled once more at the magnificent object within. Sitting on a shaped cushion of red velvet the length of the box lay a sword, the blade nearly three feet in length and glittering in the lamplight. He slid a finger down the blade and felt the sharpness of the edge, pulling away before it could draw his blood. He lifted it out, the grip fitting his hand exactly. It's like it was made just for me. He surveyed the sword, taking in the gem-encrusted pommel, the rod-straight tang of the blade, the almost delicate finesse of the taper, the way the shimmering metal seemed almost to exude light rather than merely reflecting it. The Sword of Ashan'Ra.

[{IRS}Athos]

Not the easy way, then, thought Rindar, looking at the closed door somewhat bemusedly. One would think that he'd at least pretend to pay attention... but, then again, being rejected thus by Astariel must have been a hard blow for him. The lady may be a paragon of virtues, but tact apparently wasn't one of them today. Then again, I suppose she was rather shocked as well... as were we all.

He circled around the inn, checking for a second entrance, then returned to the front. I should have brought Byron along, he thought ruefully. I can't watch both entrances by myself... He's probably gone already.

Rindar waited another half hour before admitting defeat. If Tyr had left the inn, there would have been no way for Rindar to track him. There were too many people in Ateni for Rindar to be able to pick out a single pair of muddy feet. I lost him. Astariel will be pleased. He grinned cynically. If letting him go is the best option we have.

[Vortigern]

Tyrendos's men packed up their gear unhurriedly but with a firmness which intimated at past experience of making a quick getaway. Each man knew exactly his role in the coming operation. There were forty-eight men under Tyrendos's command, not by any means an army, but definitely a force to be reckoned with. They strode out into the night in groups of four and five, sweeping dark cloaks over their white uniforms to hide themselves from prying eyes. They departed in different directions, taking ever wider and more circuitous paths to their destination to evade any tails they might have picked up.

Tyrendos walked at the end of a group of four, disguising himself among the rank and file of his men as he had done for the last three years. Years of experience had honed his senses until the hairs on the back of his neck were as reliable an indicator of pursuit as any scrying glass, and right now they told him that he was free and clear. They carried on down to the dock, where they silently boarded a ship called the Tyrene Princess (the name had appealed to Tyrendos), a double-masted ocean-going vessel mounted with ballistae and catapults on the deck and a dragon; a long, portable boardwalk with large, very sharp 'teeth' on one end, the better to hook on to an enemy ship in combat, for ease of boarding. This was a pirate's ship and no mistake.

The former Paladins, all trained and able as crewmen of this ship as well as soldiers, set about casting off and being on their way. The open ocean beckoned, but Tyrendos had no intention of staying out there for long.

"If Ouranos can have a city, so can I," he murmured, words carried away instantly by the whistling wind. "Sherat, here I come."