********************

  Rab'k and his group moved along slowly for about two hours. Jond'r stayed behind Rab'k a short distance as they walked their horses along the forest road, shadows flicking across the riders, changing them from horsemen to fairy riders flitting from dream to reality. They rode in silence, but very casually. There was no sense of urgency among the men.

  Jond'r watched Rab'k riding stiffly in front, glancing in the direction of the road along which Jond'r knew Garv’n's group was traveling. Jond'r felt the strain of preparation for a battle he didn't want to happen and he was still searching to find a way to avoid it.

  Suddenly Rab'k stopped and held up his hand. The group stopped. Rab'k turned his mount and walked it back to Jond'r's side.

  "You aren't prepared for this, are you?" Rab'k looked at Jond'r with a wicked grin on his face.

  "You aren't so foolhardy as to believe you can stop me, are you?" He spoke in low tones so the others couldn't hear.

  Jond'r spoke through clenched teeth.

  "Be forewarned, sire. I can't allow this attack. I will defend Garv’n and his men; it is my duty to them," Jond'r turned and looked the man in his eyes

  Too late Jond'r saw the great sword swinging around to strike him. At the last moment, he threw his armored left arm up to defend himself, catching the blow just below his shoulder, feeling the pain shoot through his body. He shuddered from the blow. He pushed with his left hand to grab Rab'k's arm, to hold him while he drew his own sword, but already he felt the great flush pass over him as his body reacted.

  Rab'k knocked his hand away with the hilt of his sword, reached across with his left hand and pushed Jond'r off his horse. Jond'r fell as though dead, thudding to the ground and rolling to the edge of the trail. His horse almost escaped, but Rab'k grabbed its reins and held it steady. He couldn't allow it to run wild.

  The other soldiers sat stunned by what had just occurred. These men feared Rab'k but they had all been loyal to Jond'r for many years. They couldn't understand what had just happened. Rab'k had just attacked Jond'r and they were witnesses.

  "What have you done, sire?" one of the men spun his horse about to face Rab'k, drawing his sword.

  But he was much too slow. Rab'k thrust his sword through the man's neck, nearly decapitating him. There was a gurgle as the soldier's statements were cut off.

  Rab'k ripped his sword loose and the man fell to the ground and rolled on top of Jond'r.

  "Anyone else have a problem?" Rab'k growled at the rest of the men milling around, casting glances at the bodies on the ground, and grumbling to themselves about their predicament. Rab'k sat his horse easily. His great strength was never more evident to these men than now.

  Then two of the men kicked their horses, bolting toward Rab'k in an attack. Rab'k waited, at ready.

  When the men were just a stride away, Rab'k's own mount broke between the two, knocking their mounts aside. He hacked the man on his right, almost splitting him in half, withdrew his sword from the man's body with a quick flip, and twisting around in his saddle, sliced across the other's chest knocking him from his horse with a deadly wound. The man's sword flew through the air, stuck into the ground and swayed gently back and forth.

  The rest stood their ground, afraid to move. Rab'k brought his horse around to face them.

  "Anyone else want to discuss what just happened?" Rab'k scowled and opened his arms to the men, his sword red with the blood of those on the ground.

  Strangely almost no sound disturbed the scene. The breezes blew the grass in billows on a small plateau nearby. The day was still, except for the wind which caressed the ground, small fluffy clouds passed overhead. The sky was almost perfect. No one moved nor answered.

  "We are about to go into battle, ready yourselves," Rab'k had waited long enough and felt assured he would have no more mutinies.

  The men jumped off their horses and began to quietly check their equipment, assuring themselves they were indeed ready. They all wondered why they were riding through this peaceful place in full armor; now they knew -- a battle. They had no idea who they were going to fight; what they did know was Rab'k could, with ease, dispatch any one of them. Each decided it would be wiser to face the unknown than Rab'k.

  Rab'k had earlier decided he must ensure a minimal amount of loyalty from these men to do what he needed. His only choice, since he knew Jond'r would never cooperate, was to rid himself of that problem first so the danger of rebellion would lessen. His only recourse was the action he had taken, and now the rest of the troops would follow him into this battle because they were afraid of him.

  Not exactly what one might call loyalty, but at least I can concentrate on the task at hand without concern for being attacked from behind.

  "Mount up!" Rab'k shouted to them. A few of the men were looking at the wounded and wanted to help the men, "Now!"

  The men hesitated, looked at each other, turned and climbed back on the horses. They sat waiting, completely stunned by what had just occurred.

  Jond'r was lying before them dead; four of their companions would not ride with them again.

  Rab'k rode his horse back and forth in front of them, watching, daring another to attempt something against him. None moved to attack.

  "I will not permit insubordination. I'll allow you but one opportunity to leave and that happens now. If you do not go, I will assume you are with me and you will follow my commands," Rab'k spoke deliberately, watching these men closely.

  "Any one of you may leave now."

  He pointed with his sword in the direction they had come. The men looked at each other and at Rab'k. There were probably twenty men still on their horses and they had seen only a few battles during their services to Garv’n and now Rab'k -- mostly against band of thieves.

  Four of the men pulled their reins back, the horses backing from the ranks slowly, hopping back and forth, trying to bolt and run. These four saluted Rab'k, turned their horses to the south, and slowly rode back along the old road.

  Rab'k watched them ride away without much concern. He only briefly considered these men might circle back to warn Garv’n and his men, but he shrugged the idea away because they would arrive too late to help or hinder his intentions.

  The departing men disappeared around a bend in the road and into the forest about a quarter of a league from Rab'k and the rest.

  "Gentlemen, we are going into battle in just a moment. I expect you to obey. There will be dire punishment for the man who does not continue after this fight has begun. I will hunt you down if you fail me now," Rab'k spoke solemnly, moving his gaze from man to man.

  Those remaining sat watching Rab'k as he talked; the horses flagged their tails against the insects and were stamping their hooves impatiently on the soft ground, agitated about standing for so long.

  "On my command then. We will break over that low ridge just behind me and descend on the party traveling on the road beyond," Rab'k explained, "You may be surprised, but do not hesitate and your real rewards will come to you many fold; that is my promise which I vow to keep. Let us do this now!" He raised his sword, spun his mount about, and broke into a fast gallop toward the ridge.

  The men hesitated for only a moment then charged after him.

  Their rush caught Garv’n's soldiers off guard. Many were bowled over from the momentum of the horses hurling down the embankment. Some twenty of those men were killed instantly.

  Once the fight was engaged, Rab'k's men thought no more of their doubts; they were now in battle for their lives and the surge of energy from the fear of death made them put all of their strength into their efforts.

  They quickly turned, almost in unison, and crashed back across the remainder of the guard at the rear of the march, killing yet another fifteen or so.

  Rab'k was in the thick of it, killing men with a single swipes of his blade, laughing loudly and relishing what he was doing. Vil’n called his personal guard to him and they sur
rounded Garv’n to protect him.

  Rab'k hearing the commands above the din, spun his horse about and charged headlong into Vil’n's group before they were able to assemble and gain any order.

  He bowled five of the horsemen off the embankment below the road; swiping his great sword and killing three more as he rode through the group, bashing against horses and men alike. He seemed possessed with what he was about; he wouldn't be stopped.

  He ran his horse into Garv’n's, staggering the animal but not knocking its rider off. Garv’n held on to his saddle, praying for his life.

  Rab'k burst out on the other side of the group. His men had stopped; they sat watching this madman.

  Vil’n, recognizing some of them, shouted out to them for help, but their fear of Rab'k held them and they refused to the aid these men they had known for so long. They sat stunned watching the slaughter.

  Rab'k reined his animal about, kicked its flank viciously, and, once again, crashed into the group. He cut down five more men still trying to retain some sort of ragged order, smashing into Vil’n. The horses screamed with rage and fear, rearing high.

  Vil’n was a better soldier than most of his men and ducked quickly below the sweep of Rab'k's sword; the clanging of Vil’n and Rab'k's swords rang through the forest. Rab'k smashed the heads of three more men as he passed, dropping them to the ground lifeless.

  Vil’n's group was down to five men and Garv’n. They quickly huddled in a small circle around Garv’n and stood their ground waiting for another attack.

  Rab'k had turned his horse about and halted about thirty feet from Vil’n, staring at the small clump of men around Garv’n. His men were backing their horses away from the melee, no longer participating. Rab'k noticed this movement, but didn't react. He had no time to waste with concern for them; these men had provided what he needed -- a surprise attack to help him take control. He didn't care what they did now and wasn't concerned they might attack him.

  "Vil’n, must you all die today?" asked Rab'k casually, his bloodied sword lying across his animal's mane as he talked.

  "Lord Rab'k, it is my duty to do what I must. If it means I must die doing this, then so be it. But protect Lord Garv’n, I will," Vil’n spoke with strong passion and strength.

  He wouldn't surrender his position to anyone. He backed his animal closer to Garv’n and his men followed suit.

  "You will serve no purpose talking, my lord. If you intend to destroy us then you'll have a fight on your hands. If not, I swear I will hunt you down for what you have done today." Vil’n was not shouting, but his words thundered through the forest.

  "Must you eulogize your own death? Sergeant. You are one of the bravest men I know. Come with me and I will give you great wealth and power. Or I must indeed take your life today." Rab'k spoke, sitting relaxed astride his horse.

  This was not a game to him; it was pleasure.

  "I'll not consider that statement worthy. You insult me by making it," Vil’n answered, bracing his back and sitting taller in the saddle.

  "Then, Garv’n, dismiss these good men and come with me. I am here only for you, but these men may die to protect what they cannot. The blame for their deaths will follow you to your grave," Rab'k offered, sneering as he talked.

  Garv’n was trying to recover his wits during this long lull. Rab'k, his protégé, was threatening his life.

  Why is he doing this? I have never been anything but kind to this man? I don't understand.

  "What do you want, Rab'k?" Garv’n asked feebly. He was frightened, but maybe there was a way to avoid this. He looked at the men dead, or dying, around himself and shook his head. "Why have you done this?"

  Rab'k smiled. He knew the young lad, Farns, sitting next to Vil’n was the current bearer of the map showing the possible whereabouts of the Ahar'n. He had attempted to strike down the boy during the initial attack, but Vil’n had moved into his path. He was pushed aside and missed the opportunity. Now he was watching the lad and where he sat in relation to Vil’n.

  Vil’n was a man to deal with cautiously; there was strength and resolve in the man and that often would help the brave survive against overwhelming odds.

  "I am doing this because I choose to. I have too long pretended to be loyal to you, and so you understand, I was never loyal to anyone but myself and my people," Rab'k answered solemnly.

  He glanced around and noticed his own troops had all disappeared into the forest.

  Good, there will be no surprises caused by a sudden surge of

  bravery and renewed loyalty from those.

  "What do I have you would kill us all for?" Garv’n asked, his shock still evident in the tremor of his voice. This whole affair was beyond belief for him. "What is it you want?"

  "Simple, old man. I want the Ahar'n," Rab'k snapped back, becoming more irritated with this conversation. He felt no need to answer these foolish questions, especially from someone he considered dead.

  "Enough. There will be no more questions. It is time to take what I came for."

  Suddenly, he kicked his horse into action, heading straight for Vil’n's lackey and sliced perfectly between the two.

  Vil’n slashed at him as he passed and struck Rab'k across his shoulders with as strong a blow as he possessed. Rab'k swayed in the saddle from the blow but didn't fall.

  Vil’n turned, but too late. Rab'k snapped the boy's neck and thrown him to the ground, charging into the back of the group, killing yet three more of the men.

  He turned again, spinning his horse , and attacked Vil’n. Vil’n's thrust with a quick move that surprised Rab'k.

  But Rab'k was able to block this as he slammed into Vil'n. Then he slashed at Vil'n and sliced through the man's shoulder to the middle of his chest as he tore by him.

  Rab'k pulled his horse to a halt beyond and turned to wait.

  Vil’n sat tall and strong in his saddle for a moment. He never uttered a sound nor slumped from his stance until he slowly began to lean to one side.

  One of his men reached to stop him from falling, but to no avail. Vil’n's body turned slowly and gracefully as he fell to the ground. He had died quickly.

  A brave man.

  Rab'k was injured from Vil’n's blow, he shrugged his shoulder but refused to relent to the pain. He sat straight.

  "You men, I release you. You may go," he held out his sword and pointed into the forest. There were but three remaining; he saw no need to kill them.

  "We stay, sire," one of them spoke; none moved away from Garv’n.

  "I am truly sorry. You were brave men today," Rab'k said. He charged once again and passed closely in front of the group, slashing and killing one more. Another, at the rear, leaned forward to protect Garv’n and Rab'k disposed of him without pausing as he passed. The soldier, who had spoken so bravely, spun his horse about waiting for Rab'k's next attack.

  As he turned, Rab'k threw his sword. It pierced the man's chest sending him flying from his horse, thudding to the ground. He didn't rise.

  Garv’n sat hunched on his horse, waiting.

  "So, my lord," Rab'k began with derision, "what have you wrought this day? All these good men have died for you. He spread his arm and slowly drew it across in front of him showing the bloody road and embankment.

  "Why? I don't understand your hatred?" Garv’n looked at Rab'k, his eyes showing his sadness and disbelief.

  "My people, for I am from beyond the mountains there," Rab'k said, pointing toward the north.

  Garv’n noticed blood trickling off Rab'k's elbow from the wound Vil’n gave him. He stared at the drops falling and only vaguely heard what Rab'k was saying.

  "We have always hated you southerners; it is such a part of what we are, we can't alter it. We don't understand ourselves why we hate you, but we know we do.

  The Ahar'n is a part of what we know also. We knew it existed without knowing why; that too is a part of what we are.

  We know within the Ahar'n lies the po
wer to make this world, as we want it; we'll have the power to have domain over this planet and all the peoples who are spread across its face.

  “I was the one chosen to pursue and search for it in this land; we feel certain it is here and we will possess it. And, in your own way, you have allowed me to reach my goal. For that I suppose I must thank you.”

  “But I don't know where this Ahar'n, as you call it, is," Garv’n refused to plead, but was trying to pursue a logical process of determination.

  "I've only bits and pieces of information drawn together from certain hypotheses and other evidence of possibilities. You have killed all these men for nothing!"

  Rab'k sat silently, his head canted to one side for just a moment, looking at Garv’n.

  Suddenly, his free hand, the bloodied one, flashed to his belt, grabbed a dagger hanging there and plunged it into Garv’n's throat.

  Garv’n sat, raised his hand to his wound, his eyes wide with wonder before they began to stare into nothingness. He slowly, as though transfixed in some slower time, slid from his horse and crashed on his back on the ground.

  One foot still dangled in his stirrup and he lay there staring at the sky, the dagger sticking out of his neck, his blood oozing onto the ground beside his head. The horse didn't move.

  Rab'k looked down at the old man; his face glowering with anger at the old man's impudence. He dismounted, flexing his shoulder where Vil’n's blade had struck him, feeling the tenderness of the wound. He walked around Garv’n's horse, snatched his dagger from the man's neck, wiping the blade on his victim's cloak.

  He looked at Vil’n laying face down in the grass not far away and shook his head.

  Rab'k found the young man he knew had the map hidden. Walking over to the lad laying limp and crumpled where he had fallen, ripped the boy's shirt away and found the small waist belt . Ripping the belt loose, he pulled the drawstring on the pouch, opened it and, reaching inside, found the map. He dropped the belt on the ground next to the boy, and slowly opened the map so as not to damage it in any way.

  He peered over it slowly, frowned, put it in his own belt pouch, walked to his horse and mounted. He walked the horse a short distance away, turned and looked at the carnage.

  Father will be proud of me for this day. Tomorrow, I hope I will be with him again.

  He turned his horse northward and galloped away. He held his wounded arm out for a moment as he rode. Shaking his fist vigorously, he raised it above his head, trying to ignore the pain. Then he kicked the horse into a run toward the mountain pass he needed to reach before nightfall.

  The forest glade was quiet with death. A leaf floated softly to the ground.

  Over small ridge at the edge of the clearing, a small misshapen head rose slowly. The creature glanced about, looking at the carnage, turned and motioned for others to follow him.

  ALLIES