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  Satisfied she was in control once more; she greeted several workers with a dazzlingly false smile as she passed through the newly constructed gates. The defenses were coming along fast and she knew the Temple Knights would be hard pressed to fight their way through them, Palmerrio allies or no. She actually felt a little pride for the people around her, they were working hard and training harder, but that would not keep her from using all her skill to bring about their destruction. She moved through the rapidly growing town and headed directly toward Lonogan’s lumber mill where she still kept a room. It had become her sanctuary, a place where she could relax after a grueling day of smiling, acting pleasant and training the peasants of this land. She shivered just thinking about it, but put on her most congenial face as she moved by people who considered her a friend. She would have liked nothing better than to gather them all up and burn them in a single fire. They could all burn, feeling of pride or not.

  Despite her new found balance, de Baard felt her heartbeat accelerating as she moved closer and closer to the mill and was slightly disgusted with herself.

  ‘Perhaps the Prince will be there,’ she thought then grimaced, so appalled she had to spit, as if the thought had somehow become trapped in the saliva she expelled. She fought to get control once more, then she spotted Eve and her stomach did a little flip.

  ‘He must die! He must die! He must die!’ She chanted to herself over and over again as she dismounted. She climbed from her horse, and found the feeling of the ground beneath her feet very satisfying. She stretched a moment, reluctant to go inside, afraid her new found resolve would be blown away like so much dust. She was about to start forward when suddenly he was there, walking toward her through the large doors of the mill. Their eyes met and for the briefest moment de Baard was sure she saw pleasure shining from his face and something more, something like desire. He smiled and she found herself smiling back at him like an idiot, but then the bitch followed him out and the illusion collapsed.

  ‘He must die!’ She thought stubbornly to herself. Her resolve intensified when the lumbering Lee Brandt exited the mill and took what seemed like two strides before he was upon her. He lifted her effortlessly from the ground and she forced herself to smile at him as he twirled her around.

  ‘You must die first,’ she thought as he set her down and took her small hand in his.

  “This is just great,” he said excitedly. “Have you heard the news?”

  de Baard frowned slightly and shook her head.

  “Samantha’s pregnant,” he said and with a laugh lifted her easily from her feet once more. “We have an heir to protect!”

  de Baard suddenly felt sick and it took all of her training to keep the false smile on her face as she congratulated both Prince and bitch, then claiming to be tired from her travels she moved inside to attempt to compose herself. Brandt insisted on following her, hoping no doubt to help with the removal of her pants. She might just let him, but his presence did nothing to calm the roaring symphony of anger and hate playing in her mind.

  ǂ

  Gwaynn stood in the background as Zarina Monde arrived from the Gap. Accompanying her was Prince Phillip, his Weapons Master Alba Tabernas and Laynee. They reached the growing city of Manse only twenty minutes after Jess na Gall and Queen Ramona appeared along with one hundred and fifty-four additional survivors from the fall of Eno.

  The loss of the Toranado city was devastating and put the Massi people in great danger, but when Gwaynn caught sight of the Toranado Queen he felt nothing but compassion and gratitude for her and her people. The siege had obviously been very hard on her. Ramona looked tired and haggard; the strain on her nerves aging her to such an extent that both Gwaynn and Samantha were shocked by her appearance.

  “You’re safe for the moment,” Gwaynn said embracing her. It was still dark; sunrise would not come for several more hours.

  “Cousin,” was all she managed as she allowed herself to be led away to rest and regain her strength.

  Phillip on the other hand smiled widely as he stepped through the Traveler bridge. He rushed up to Gwaynn and clapped him on the back with youthful exuberance. He was happy to be back in Manse, though the sight of a few of the soldiers from Eno quickly tempered his mood.

  “Mother?” he asked.

  “Sleeping, I hope,” na Gall answered. She too looked tired but stayed to welcome the High Zarina to Manse, plus she wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to show off Gwaynn.

  “Is mother well?” Phillip asked, clearly concerned, the news of Eno’s fall etched on his face.

  na Gall nodded. “As well as could be hoped for. The loss of the fleet…and Admiral Cantu dealt her a hard blow.”

  Gwaynn winced at the mention of the lost fleet. They would face the Temple Knights soon now. There was nothing for it, no one to stop them.

  “We’ve made contact with Captain Wicks, the Speaker Tearrio is with her now,” Phillip stated, his face tinged slightly red from the shame of the defeat. “She’s making alterations to the remainder of the…the fleet, the King will not surprise us again. But we no longer have enough ships to guard the entire northern coast of Massi…there may be enough to keep the harbor at Cape safe, but little more.”

  “The Toranado fleet dealt an equal blow to the High King and the Palmerrio,” na Gall said.

  “Hmmmph,” was all Prince Phillip managed then turned to Gwaynn once more. “I’d like to see her,” he added, and Gwaynn motioned for one of his aides to show the Toranado Prince to his mother.

  As they left, the Toranado Weapons Master smiled briefly. “You’ve spent your time well,” he said in his high, sing-song voice, noticing the change in the immediate surroundings despite the dark hour.

  “Wait until sunrise,” Gwaynn replied. “The change is astounding.”

  “You are to be commended,” Tabernas added.

  “Lonogan gets the credit. I’ve been on something of a joy ride through my country.”

  “Your country…yes,” Tabernas answered, feeling happy for the young man despite the recent loss of his own country.

  “Gwaynn!” Laynee yelled dancing from one foot to the other, ignoring the look of exasperation she was getting from the High Zarina at her side. The young girl was geared up and excited about something despite the lateness of the hour. “I’m a Traveler Gwaynn! I did it! Just like you,” she said and hugged him at the waist then stepped back, blushing a bit.

  “I knew you would be a Traveler,” Gwaynn said smiling slightly at the girl’s obvious embarrassment before raising his gaze to the High Zarina, who stood just behind Laynee. Gwaynn was surprised at the Zarina’s small stature, but he could see strength in her eyes.

  “A Traveler,” she said, one eyebrow raised slightly.

  Gwaynn bowed. “High Zarina.”

  “Our enemies are growing strong,” she said and returned his bow with a slight one of her own.

  “We still have a few friends,” he answered, choosing to ignore her pessimism, and the older woman was surprised at the young man’s calm manner. She glanced briefly at na Gall, who was wearing a smug expression. “Do you need to rest?” Gwaynn asked thinking of his own warm bed with Samantha already in it. “I can show you to your rooms.”

  Monde shook her head. “It’s too late for that now. I’m wide awake from the excitement, perhaps later,” she answered. “If I could, I would like to have a word in private with you.”

  Gwaynn nodded, suddenly wary. “Of course,” he said, curious, then turned to Marcum, who was becoming one of his chief aides as well as a trusted advisor. Gwaynn would miss him when he sent the Captain on to Lynndon to command the town’s defenses. But they must be ever vigilant with the eastern border, the Deutzani were not to be trusted. “Could you see to the others?”

  “Of course M’lord,” Marcum answered.

  “This way then,” Gwaynn added and indicated that Monde should follow.

  “Jess,” was all the High Traveler said and the three of them headed inside one
of the newly built bailey fortresses. It was not quite finished but would be within the week; however the lower courtyard was completely done and held a large barracks, a stable, and a center keep with a great hall for dining plus a few private rooms. Gwaynn was currently quartered in the largest private room, but he led the Travelers to the dining hall where a small fire was burning in the central fireplace. Everything still smelled strongly of newly cut timber. The large room was dominated by two long, plain but sturdy tables, accompanied by four equally long benches. Near the central fire was a group of perhaps half dozen simple wooden chairs otherwise the room was empty and unadorned; after all it was a fighting fortress and needed few luxuries. Such things may come in time, but for now, function was far more important than form.

  Gwaynn led them to a small cluster of chairs and they took their seats without a word.

  “Tar Nev trained you,” Monde said, though because it was not framed as a question, Gwaynn simply sat quietly and made no answer.

  Monde pursed her lips and glanced once more at na Gall.

  “I can assume he is also a Traveler,” she added, needing to know, needing to be sure. If Nev could Travel, he might be the explanation to the High King’s sudden and deadly attack on the inhabitants of the Isle of Light.

  Gwaynn shrugged.

  “I would like to know,” Monde insisted.

  “He never Traveled in my presence, nor trained me in the art of Traveling during my time with him. What I know of Traveling I learned from Zarina na Gall,” Gwaynn answered.

  Monde frowned. “The High King tried to wipe out the Travelers. He killed many of us including the High Zarina Aleecia. I need to know why. If Tar Nev can Travel…”

  Gwaynn remained silent for a time and cursed his moment of weakness with na Gall all those weeks ago.

  “Jess tells me you’ve admitted that Tar Nev can Travel, perhaps other Tars from Noble can as well,” Monde continued. “It would explain why they never allowed any Travelers to stay on their island until…”

  Gwaynn grimaced, not wanting to lie outright to the High Zarina, but he promised Nev that he would keep this secret close. “Tar Nev never Traveled in front of me.”

  “But he can Travel?”

  Gwaynn shrugged once more. “You will have to ask him that question.”

  Monde frowned once more and drummed her fingers on the table.

  “I would like you to Travel for me,” she stated, shocking Gwaynn, and he thought for a moment to simply Travel by means of the twenty-nine steps of concentration. She would be able to garner no information by that.

  “Please,” Monde finally said going soft. It was the perfect tactic with Gwaynn, who groaned inwardly, feeling suddenly shameful. If not for Jess na Gall’s help, Samantha might not be alive today. He felt a great deal of loyalty to Tar Nev but he also wanted to help the High Zarina.

  “We have helped you and Massi,” the Zarina continued as if reading his mind. “We will continue to help you and Massi.”

  Gwaynn smiled ruefully and nodded. “We appreciate and honor your aid,” he said, meaning it. “If you wish, I will Travel,” he added, deciding on the spot to manipulate time to give this woman a true measure of his ability…and therefore Tar Nev’s. “But if I do, I would like you to do something for me as well.”

  Monde smiled for the first time, then laughed and touched Jess na Gall’s hand which was resting on the table. “You are right about him,” was all she said and made no attempt to explain the statement to Gwaynn.

  “What is it you wish?” the High Zarina asked.

  “I would like you to take me to Noble Island.”

  Monde blinked in surprise and gave another nervous laugh.

  “I think we need a few more allies on our side,” Gwaynn explained, “and I think it’s past time.”

  This time na Gall laughed, and Gwaynn turned his eyes on her. “I would like you to go to Parma. I need the Cassinni as well.”

  Jess’ mouth popped open for a moment then she snapped it shut and looked to her High Zarina. “I warned you…I told you,” she insisted.

  Monde chuckled softly. “Come Gwaynn. We will trust you with the strategy. Please show me how you Travel.”

  Gwaynn smiled and stood up, but as he did so his mind accelerated and his concentration focused on slowing time. In the moment it took for him to fully rise up and stand before the two Travelers, time was already beginning to shift. The women’s movements were becoming sluggish, seconds later all was quiet and still. Gwaynn took a moment to admire Jess na Gall in the firelight. She was truly a beautiful woman, made even more so by the soft light. He smiled and then went to work. He raised his hand and began the twenty-nine steps to create a bridge, but this time, only to the other side of the room. When all was ready he released time, popped open the bridge and moved through.

  The two women gasped loudly in astonishment, Gwaynn could hear their shocked breathing clearly though he was now on the far side of the room. He began to walk back toward them, ignoring the pangs of hunger rumbling in his mid-section and was acutely aware of the wild look of wonder in their eyes. To the two Travelers, the entire process was instantaneous. One moment Gwaynn stood before them and then he was across the room. The bridge appeared the split second after he stood; there was no delay and no twenty-nine steps. He was with them and then he was through the bridge and gone.

  “You never said…”

  “I never knew,” Jess insisted.

  “She never knew,” Gwaynn repeated and sat back down at the table. Monde looked at him, still breathing rapidly.

  “And yes, Tar Nev can Travel,” he admitted softly, finally tired of evading her questions. Nev would just have to forgive him.

  “I’m hungry,” Gwaynn added and looked about for food.

  ǂ

  “We cannot give them time to build greater strength!” Arden, the newly crowned King of the Deutzani said. “We have to attack…soon.”

  High King Mastoc smiled slightly and glanced at Low Hothgaard, Captain of the Temple Knights. “So attack,” Mastoc said simply.

  Arden glared at the High King for a moment, but kept his cool and sat down.

  “I was not jesting,” the High King added after a moment. “Take back Solarii and then move down the finger of Massi and threaten Lynndon.”

  Arden frowned and looked to Ja Brude, whose face remained infuriatingly blank.

  “We do not have the men,” Arden finally said, looking away from his chief advisor. Perhaps it was time to replace the man. Brude had a tendency to disappear when truly tough decisions had to be made.

  Mastoc shrugged. Hothgaard and King Weldon of the Palmerrio smiled at Arden’s discomfort, only King Donnish Rhondono showed the slightest sympathy for the young Deutzani King’s position. “You will attack Lynndon in two weeks time,” the High King commanded. “If you do not have the strength to take the town, you obviously do not have the strength to rule the Massi.”

  Arden was about to speak when Ja Brude reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. “To what end do we attack?” he asked and nodded for his young King to be seated. After a moment Arden complied and looked to Mastoc for an answer.

  “We’ll attempt to draw Prince Gwaynn out of Manse,” Mastoc said. “My spies tell me the Scar city will not be easy to take. We’ll need to outthink the Massi, force them out onto the plains, or better yet face them on the flats of the Plateau.”

  “And if he comes for me,” Arden asked boldly. “Where will you be?”

  Ja Brude held his breath at such recklessness. Arsinol was never so, not even when he was young. The High King however, laughed and moved to a large map showing all the lands of the Inland Sea. The map dominated the western wall of the great hall and everyone in the room stood and moved with the King to study it closer.

  “I will be here,” the King said and pointed to the King’s Island. He laughed again, nothing it seemed could touch his good mood now that the majority of the Toranado fleet was at the bottom of the sea, “b
ut Captain Hothgaard and my Temple Knights will be on troopships…here,” Mastoc explained, “ready to land on the plains northeast of Cape and move against the Massi rear if they are foolish enough to move against Lynndon.”

  “We must not underestimate the Toranado navy at Cape,” Admiral Blakely of the Palmerrio cautioned while studying the map. He did not relish the thought of trying to get nearly a hundred troop ships passed the enemy triremes. Diminished or not, surprised or not, the Toranado navy was yet a threat. For centuries the Toranado were the finest, most well trained sailors on the Inland Sea and such a distinction did not disappear with one defeat.

  Mastoc turned to the Admiral annoyed. “You have two weeks to deal with them.”

  The Admiral frowned slightly. “They’ll not be surprised again.”

  The High King suddenly turned an angry red. “You captured three dozen Toranado Triremes and sent double that to the bottom of their harbor. They are beaten. You will finish them quickly before they have time to regroup and cause us trouble.”

  Blakely nodded, thinking perhaps he was being superstitious. The planning for the Battle of Eno had been his after all, and the victory though not decisive, was somewhat unexpected. The Toranado had not lost a sea battle in nearly two hundred years. And though the combined navies of the Palmerrio, the Rhondono and the High King lost more ships than they captured or sunk, they still came out of the battle in a much better position than the Toranado.