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Unexpected Wizardry

Adventures in the Land of Koo

By Steven Gordon



A Brief Preview:  The Nymph who wouldn't take no for an answer


	Worth cautiously entered the entrance to the underground.  The 
cave was filled with skeletons, a large number of them, pitted groups 
of bones that were scattered around the entrance.  Worth stifled back a 
gasp.

	"Worth!  What are you doing here?"

	It was the Talsall nymph.  She hadn't waited long.

	Worth turned.  All pretense was now gone.  "What happened to 
them?" he said, turning to the skeletons.

	"I loved them!" said Talsall.  "And they stayed with me!"

	"For the rest of their lives," said Worth.  "Unable to leave, 
unable to resist your charms."

	"Just like you, Worth," she said softly, sending him a bolt of 
energy.

	But this time Worth was prepared.  He had summoned his magic, and 
he kept it flowing through him.  It wasn't a shield, not really, but at 
least it might help him resist her charm.  He stood there defiantly, 
not smiling.  She had not won.

	The Talsall nymph looked like she was about to cry.

	"It's over, Talsall nymph," said Worth.  "I no longer-"

	Suddenly she sent another bolt, a much stronger, more intense 
one.

	Worth suddenly found that he could not keep his hands off of her.  
He needed to kiss her passionately, needed to feel her close to him.

	"Oh yes!  Oh yes oh yes oh yes!" the nymph cried.  

	Two weeks ago Worth had been a quiet lawyer in New York.  Now he 
was the permanent love slave of the nymph. 

	This was not the kind of vacation that Worth had planned for.

	


Chapter 1:  A Change of Venue



	Boredom.  

	Utter and complete boredom.

	Consider this:  an attorney, a member of one of the most 
prestigious firms in New York City, a very highly paid young lawyer, 
was bored.  He had started out as a young, idealistic attorney, 
determined to change the world.  He wanted to help the poor, the needy, 
those who weren't able to help themselves.  In his mind he saw it as a 
classic fight between good and evil, a fight between the powerful and 
the powerless, the just versus the unjust.  That's what gave him the 
energy to complete three grueling years of Columbia Law School, in the 
hopes that his training would be put to good use.

	But now he was having second thoughts.  Like many young 
attorneys, he had gotten bogged down in the world of corporate law:  
debt restructuring, mergers, acquisitions, stock tenders, contract 
renegotiations, lending agreements... this is not what the young lawyer 
had in mind when he went to law school.  

	The young attorney sat at his desk, on the 44th floor of the 
Housterman Building in downtown Manhattan, in the law offices of Carey, 
Blumberg & Butnick, trying to get through a seventy page document 
detailing the precise schedule of repayment of a variable annuity, and 
he was bored.  Not a temporary boredom, such as one encounters during a 
pause in activity.  No, this was a longer term boredom, the sort of 
feeling one gets from activity itself.  What was the sense of it?  What 
was it all worth?

	"Worth," said a voice, addressing the young attorney.

	Worth Rodgers looked up. He didn't like what he saw.  It was 
Maxine Brakenwalker, one of the litigation partners.  She looked down 
at him from the end of her prominently tipped nose.  She looked a 
little like a vulture, the kind that circles its target for a long 
time, waiting for the first sign of weakness to swoop down and bite the 
prey's neck out.

	Worth's face was calm.  His straight brown hair, combed neatly to 
the side, wavered not in the slighest as he angled his head to look up 
at her.   She could sense fear, and he knew it.  "Yes, Maxine?" said 
Worth.

	"Hi," Maxine said, in her artificially syrupy voice.   She wanted 
something.  That was clear to Worth immediately.   She looked at Worth 
speculatively, and then said, "I was wondering if you had some free 
time."

	Free time?  For what?  Worth wondered what planet Maxine had been 
living on.  Surely she knew he was up to his neck in debt servicing 
contracts on the Smith account.  Surely she knew he was not a 
litigator.

	"Well, I'm a little tied up on the Smith matter," said Worth, 
giving a tight smile.  He gestured back to his work.  Maybe she would 
just go away.

	"Only got one thing on the burner, good," said Maxine.  "Got a 
piece of work for you.  I could really use some background research 
into environmental zoning regulations on private property."  She 
dropped a thick file on Worth's desk, which landed with a resounding 
thud.

	She doesn't really need this, Worth realized.  And she knows I'm 
not in litigation. But Maxine was a partner and Worth was an associate.  
Worth was keenly aware of his post in the legal chain of command.  
Suppressing a sigh, Worth said, "When do you need it?"  Maybe he could 
squeeze it in early next week.

	"By tomorrow morning."  She smiled.  "It's a rush job.  Thanks a 
lot, Worth."  She walked away.

	"It's a rush job, thanks a lot, Worth," he imitated, making a 
screwed up face.  He examined the file.  It was already 5 o'clock, and 
this would take some time to look over.  That would mean missing karate 
tonight.  Again.  At this rate he would never make brown belt.

	"Oh, and Worth?" came Maxine's voice.  "You'll probably need to 
go to the Bar Association library."

	"Thank you, Maxine."

	It was cold outside, of course.  What else would one expect in 
the middle of January in New York City?  Before Worth had taken five 
steps, an artic wind froze every inch of exposed skin.  His ears and 
cheeks turned red and started to sting.  Worth even felt the cold 
beginning to penetrate the many layers of his clothing.

	He walked through the crowded sidewalk, feeling grumpy.  Maybe he 
needed a vacation.  Yes, a vacation--from Maxine, from the law, from 
New York, from everything.  Problem was, he wasn't up for another 
vacation for two months.  At least.

	Worth gave an oof as someone bumped against him on the crowded 
sidewalk.  The man who had bumped into Worth glared at him; Worth 
glared back as he passed.  

	Worth sighed.  The cold, the crowds, the atmosphere... yes, he 
needed to get away from it all.  For just a little while, at least.



	The bar association library was nearly empty.  Worth checked his 
watch.  It was nearly six o'clock.  Most sane people were at home by 
now.  "Where I should be," grumbled Worth, forming a pile of heavy 
books in his study carrol.  Karate started in half an hour.  There was 
no way that Worth would make it.  He tried to put it out of his mind.

	But it just wouldn't go.  One of the few things he enjoyed in 
life was karate practice, and that was being denied him.  Worth didn't 
have much of a social life; he was single, and hadn't even had a date 
in six months.  All he had was his karate, and his lonely evenings in 
front of the television, totally cut off from all humanity.  And now 
his karate was being taken away from him.  What was left tforo him?

	Worth, sighed, opening one of the books in front of him.  He 
looked through one of the indexes.  It was incomprehensible to him.  He 
turned to the index to the index.  

	"Hm... this is referring me down to another secondary index," 
said Worth, talking to himself.  He was so engaged in his own efforts 
that he didn't notice when It happened.

	Later, Worth would realize that this was the new beginning, that 
this was the event that would totally and forever change his life.  It 
would open his eyes to new horizens, to a new environment, to a 
different sort of existence he could lead.  It would also aggravate him 
terribly, and nearly lead to his death on innumberable occasions.

	And it all started with a feeling.  Worth had a feeling, as if he 
felt a small set of vibrations.  Worth raised an eyebrow, only half 
noticing them.  The vibrations did not cause him to look up.

	Pop!

	Neither did the noise.  It was a soft sound, and Worth, his 
attention buried in  the index, only barely registered the sound in his 
mind.

	"Let's see," said Worth.  "The secondary index to the index 
refers back to the higher level index.  Is there an index in the middle 
I missed?" he mused.  This was a perfect snapshot of his life.  Trapped 
in a library filled with books older than he was, sifting through 
indexes to indexes.  Worth hadn't had the remotest idea that this is 
what his life would be like as an attorney.  He had had an image, 
undoubtedly overly romanticized, of being an advocate, of helping 
people get justice.  But reality was cold and cruel. Reality, Worth 
reflected, was spending his dinner hour sitting in front of a leaning 
tower of indexes.  Maybe he should've been a doctor.  Worth's mother 
always said he should have become a doctor.  Worth had never listened 
to his mother.

	Then Worth heard the growl.  It wasn't a tiny growl, of the sort 
a small animal, like a poodle, would make.  It was a deep throaty 
affair, more on the level of german shepard, and it was reasonably 
loud.  This caught Worth's attention.

	Worth slowly looked around.  He was alone.  He was in the 
downstairs section of the libary, and there wasn't anyone else here. 

	Worth heard loud whispering sounds.  Then he heard heavy plodding 
footsteps.

	The sounds were coming from behind a shelf.  Clop, clop, clop!  
The steps grew louder.

	Worth was no longer focused on the index to the index, or any 
index, for that matter.  His eyes were glued to the bookshelf.

	Suddenly, two creatures appeared, jumping into view from behind 
the shelf.  Worth gasped.

	They were humanoid, remotely, in that they had two legs, two 
arms, a  body, and a head with the requisite number of eyes, noses, 
ears, and mouths, all roughly in the appropriate places.  The creatures 
were short, barely five feet tall, and wearing some sort of ragged 
clothing.  But what struck Worth were their faces.  They were framed in 
a twisted snarling way, marked with scars all around.  Their teeth had 
fangs.  Worth also noticed that their skin was rough, like hard bark, 
and their hands were claws.  And one of those claws were pointed at 
him.

	"This is the one," one of the creatures rasped.  His partner 
surged forward, rushing Worth.

	Worth was surprised, but instinct quickly kicked in, and he 
turned to the side, letting the first attacker rush past him.  Almost 
simultaneously, he smacked the creature with a balled up fist, hitting 
him squarely on the back.  The second one growled, drawing a sword.

	Oh oh.  This was out of his league, karate training or no.  Worth 
skidded around a table, trying to put it between him and the swordsman. 
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the first humanoid starting to get 
up.

	The swordsman lunged, and Worth dodged to the left.  The 
swordsman jumped on the table, and Worth backed away.

	Suddenly, he was tackled, and he fell to the ground.  The other 
creature had pushed him from behind.  Worth looked up, seeing a 
swordpoint aimed at his body.  It was a long blade, made of a hard 
steel.  All it would take was a single stroke to run him through.

	"Kill'm," said the humanoid without the sword.

	"No!  We must take him," said the swordsman.  "You know what the 
master says."

	Suddenly, before Worth's very eyes, the humanoids faded.  They 
simply faded, and disappeared.

	Worth slowly got up, closing inspecting the room.  He was alone.  
Where had they gone?

	He looked around some more, dusting himself off in the process.  
Had it really happened?  Then Worth noticed a long cut in the table, 
one that hadn't been there before.

	"It did happen," Worth breathed.  "The question is, what do I do 
now?"  He didn't know who the humanoids were, or what they wanted.  
What should he do?  What could he do?  The answer, plain and simple, 
was that there was nothing he could do.  Worth scooped up his books, 
and headed down to the main reading room.  He still had work that had 
to get done.  Perhaps the creatures would not return if other people 
were around.

	Worth sat in the main reading room, but he got very little work 
done.  Who were those creatures?  What did they want?  Were they really 
after him?  Why?

	But these questions temporaily subsided as Worth buried himself 
in his work again.  After several hours of slow but measured progress, 
he decided to go home for a quick break.  He would have to work on the 
project though the night.  Slowly, he plodded home.  It was almost 
eight now, and it was dark, and cold.

	He tried to convince himself that he should forget what had 
happened.  Maybe it hadn't been real.  Maybe he had imagined it.

	Worth had a small apartment on West 54th street.  He turned the 
key, and entered his place, slamming the door behind him.  Yes, he 
should just forget all about it, he decided.

	"I've been waiting for you," said a deep voice.

	There was a man, sitting on a chair by his bed.  Worth nearly 
jumped out of his loafers.  

	The man wore long, flowing grey robes.  He had a long beard 
sprouting from his chin and a wavy, almost curly hair on top of his 
head.  But it was his eyes that made Worth gasped.  They were sharp, 
knowing things, that had seen much in their times, and yet were full of 
vibrance, full of life.

	Worth opened his mouth to speak.

	"You're about to ask who I am and what I'm doing here in your 
dwelling," said the man in the robes.  "Excuse me for taking liberties, 
but it was necessary.  Your life is in great danger."

	Worth closed his mouth and then opened it again.  "The creatures 
who attacked me...."

	The man nodded.  Evidently he knew about the incident.  "They 
were merely goblins, twisted servants of a greater evil.  But daunting 
nonetheless.  Time is running short."  The man got up, and for the 
first time North saw he carred a small backpack and a long cane.  The 
man lifted his cane into the air.  Worth felt a small vibration.  The 
man lifted the cane and formed the shape of a large doorway.  He spoke 
a word of command, and a large doorway appeared.  Worth saw beyond it a 
number of slender trees by a stream.

	"What the...."

	"We must be quick.  They will be here at any moment. Please 
accompany me," said the man.

	"Wait!  Wait a minute!"  This was a bit too much; monsters 
attacking him in the library, a stranger in his apartment, doorways to 
other places.  "I don't even know your name.  Or what this is all 
about.  Or even if it's real.  Why were those creatures attacking me?  
Where did they come from?"

	The stranger looked down for a moment.  "I apologize for the 
abruptness.  You may call me Lore.  Everything you have seen has been 
very real.  That is why you are in such great danger-"

	"But why-" North stopped.  He felt a vibration in the air.  Lore 
caught his glance and followed it, to a corner of the room where three 
humanoids appeared.  They growled, immediately homing in on Worth.

	"Come no further!" Lore cried, suddenly drawing a sword from a 
hidden scabbard.  The creatures cried out, falling back hastily as Lore 
interposed himself between the creatures and Worth.

	"Go, now!" said  Lore, pushing Worth towards the door.

	But Worth was still indecisive, and he stopped, about a foot from 
the doorway.  The creatures... the goblins, Lore had called them, all 
drew swords, and charged at once.  Lore fell back, and pushed Worth 
again.  The momentum carried both of them through the doorway.


Chapter II:  Swamp Things

	Worth was wet.

	"Yuck!" he said.  He was sitting in a puddle.  Worth looked 
around.  He was in a swamp.  The color struck him first.  Everything 
was bright green--the trees, the vines, the moss, even the water.  A 
slightly foul smell drifted through the stagnant air.  Even though he 
was sitting in a puddle, Worth felt warm, which wasn't really 
surprising.  The temperature was hot, 80 degrees at least, and here 
Worth was in a formal suit.  

	The doorway was gone--at least, there was no sign of it.  Lore, 
and the monsters, were not to be seen.

	Worth slowly got up.  "Oh, my suit," he groaned, dripping into 
the puddle.  He stepped out of it.  His feet were waterlogged, of 
course.

	Worth removed his jacket, and loosened his tie.  "How did I get 
into all this!" he said miserably, leaning against a tree.

	"That would take some time to explain."

	It was Lore, darting out from behind a tree.

	"You're here too," said Worth, suddenly glad that he was no 
longer alone.  "Did you bring your little friends, too?"

	"You know they are not my friends, Worth Rodgers," said Lore.  
"They are goblins, the pawns of evil."

	"Are we safe?" said Worth in a small voice.

	"Safe?  Relatively speaking, yes, at least for the present.  They 
had tracked you in your own world, but it will take some time for them 
to find you here."

	"Whoa!  Time out, back up!  We're not there anymore?  New York, 
Manhattan?"

	Lore shook his head.

	"America?" said Worth.

	Lore shook his head again.

	"Earth?" said Worth, in a small voice.

	A two headed lizard suddenly darted by, running by Worth's feet.  
He jumped backwards.

	Lore chuckled.  "I will explain.  But could we go to some dry 
land first?  And perhaps you'd like to change."  He took a pair of 
rough dungarees, a shirt, and a pair of soft leather shoes out of his 
backpack.

	"What about my suit?"

	Lore chuckled again.  "You won't be needing it."

	They walked to a raised plateau of land a few dozen feet away.  
Worth changed into the clothes, never taking his eyes off Lore.  When 
he was done he was surprised to find that everything fit him well.  As 
if Lore knew his size.  As if he knew Worth would be needing them.

	"Here," said Lore, gesturing for Worth's old clothes.  Worth 
handed them over.  Lore put them on the ground.  Worth felt a vibration 
in the air, and Lore caught Worth's look.  Focusing his fingertips, 
Lore pointed at Worth's clothes.  Suddenly, they burst into flame, 
quickly burning to ashes.

	"Hey!" Worth cried, as Lore booted the remains into the water.  
All that remained of his clothes was a steamy hiss, coming from the 
watery grave.  "That was a $400 dollar suit."

	"Not any more," he said, shaking his head.  

	"What?" said Worth, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

	"We must not make it easy for the foul minions of Arnagon to 
track you," said Lore simply.

	"The foul minions of Arnagon!" Worth repeated.  "Whoa!  Time out 
again.  For starters, back to my original questions.  Who are you?  How 
do you know who I am?  Where am I?"

	"You are in the Lower Threstles, in the Manor Swamp, to be 
precise, if that is of any help," said Lore.  "But a better answer to 
your question, the real answer, is that you are no longer on your 
planet."

	"What?"

	"We call this Koo.  Or the Land of Koo.  It has been called 
Miranen by the Easterners, and more recently Sokoonen by the Falian 
peoples, but most people in the Lower Threstles simply refer to it as 
Koo.  It has many other names, as well."

	"I'm sure it does.  Koo.  Hm."  Worth reflected on that.  Then, 
he exploded.  "What the fuck am I doing in the Land of Koo?" he yelled, 
at the top of his lungs.

	"Hush!" Lore commanded.  "We have evaded our pursuers for the 
moment, but there is no telling when the enemy will catch up with us.  
This territory is hardly a secure area.  Come, we must go."  He got up, 
starting to pick his way among the bogs.

	Worth was momentarily indecisive.  Then, swearing, he got up, 
following Lore.  Lore, at least, could tell him what was going on.

	"So how did you know who I was?" said Worth, picking his way 
among patches of dry land.

	"The enemy was searching you out, Worth," said Lore, sidestepping 
his question.  "I had to bring you here, to keep you safe."

	Couldn't he have found a dryer place to keep Worth safe?  "Why?  
Why did the enemy want me?  And just how did we get here?  Has your 
technology perfected a means of travel like the one we used?"

	"Not science, Worth, as least, not science as you know it."  Then 
he looked at Worth, with an appraising glance.  "With magic."

	Lore appeared to concentrate, and Worth felt a vibration in the 
air.  It was getting stronger and stronger, and it centered around 
Lore's cane.  Worth looked down at it, but it looked like an ordinary 
polished stick of wood.

	Lore was watching Worth closely, and caught his glance.  "Good, 
good," he said softly, and the vibrations ceased.

	"What was that alll about?" Worth demanded.  "Is that magic?  Is 
that how you got me here?  Do you expect me to believe that?"

	Lore stopped walking, and stared at Worth.  "So many questions, 
so little time," he said, nodding his head.  "Come!  We must quicken 
our pace.  More walking, less talking."  And from then on he would not 
answer any more questions.

	Worth, cursing as he stepped into a small bog, followed.  It was 
all a lot to take in.  Magic.  Another world.  Monsters chasing him.  
And yet it was hard to deny.  Here he was.  Worth couldn't think of 
another plausible explanation for his presence here.  Wherever here 
was.  Worth was also dumbfounded to explain the so-called "magic".  He 
mulled it over as they walked.

	When the sun started to go down Lore looked about, startled, as 
if he hadn't noticed the passage of time. He stopped by a large patch 
of ground that was relatively dry.  "We will stay here for the night, I 
think."  He looked about, as if he were searching for something.  "We 
cannot risk a fire, and yet perhaps a milder form of illumination would 
not be unwarranted.  The darkness of the night can bring fear even when 
nothing threatening is present."

	Worth felt a small tremor, emanating from Lore's staff. Lore 
pointed the staff at a small piece of wood and uttered a word of 
command.  There was a spark, and then the wood started to glow softly.  
But Lore acted normally, as if he had done nothing special.  He took 
out strips of beef and two small leather skins from his pack.

	"That was magic," said Worth.  Unless that cane contained some 
sort of disguised cigarette lighter.  But Worth didn't think so.  He 
had felt it filled with magic, if that's what the vibrations were.

	"Yes," said Lore, nodding.

	 Worth saw this was his chance to get more information.  "What 
did those creatures want with me?"

	"Simply to kill you, perhaps.  Or maybe the goblins were under 
orders to bring you before their master."

	"Why?"

	Lore kept silent.  His face was grave.  "Because they know of the 
threat you pose."

	"Threat?  What threat?  I'm a corporate lawyer from New York 
City.  What kind of threat can I pose?"  

	"The evil one knows of your potential. He wants you destroyed or 
altered before you acquire it."

	 Altered.  Worth definitely did not like the sound of that.  But 
Worth got hung up on another part of Lore's statement.  "Potential?" 
Worth laughed.  "What, to make partner at my law firm?"

	"No.  Your potential to weave magic."

	"Magic?  Me?  You got the wrong lawyer, buddy."  Worth was 
prepared, maybe, to believe that Lore was a wizard.  After all he had 
seen it would be hard to deny it.  But he, Worth?

	"What was the first thing you noticed when the goblins appeared?"  
Lore spoke in a commanding voice, as if he were administering a test.

	"Why, their ugly faces, I suppose."

	"Think again."  The voice was soft but insistant.

	"Well...  come to think of it, there were those vibrations."

	"There were no vibrations.  Not in the physical sense.  You 
detected their magic, just as I did.  You also noticed when I summoned 
magic to my staff.  You, Worth, have a great magical potential."

	"Me?  I can use magic?"  Worth was incredulous.

	Lore nodded.  "Try it!"

	"Huh?"

	"Relax.  Concentrate on summoning your magic."

	"How?"

	"There is no how.  Simply do it."  He sat back, expectantly. 
Worth, of course, was totally untrained.  And yet, if his potential was 
as great as Lore suspected, he would learn quickly.  Very quickly.

	Worth tried.  He sat there, attempting to feel, as he had felt 
the magic in Lore's staff.  For a long moment nothing happened.  Then 
Worth felt a tinge of electricity filling his veins, but just a tinge, 
and then it was gone.  He looked up.

	Lore was impressed.  "You had it.  Just for a second, but you had 
it.  Now try again."  Amazing, Lore thought.  He had been successful on 
the first try.  Lore had been correct in trying to seek Worth out.  He 
had the potential to become very powerful.  But would he reach his 
potential before the minions of the fell captain caught up to him?  
That was unclear.  If Arnagon caught Worth as he was, the fell captain 
could easily alter him, and use him as a tool of enormous evil.  Lore 
could not permit that, he would not permit it.

	Worth concentrated again.  The magic came easier this time, and 
streams of magic flowed through him, uncertainly, unsteadily, but magic 
nonetheless.  He felt as if energy were coursing through his body.  He 
felt as if he could direct power from his fingertips.

	"Now use it," said Lore, sensing the buildup of magic.  He 
suggested a simple task.  "Direct it, at the ground."

	Worth pointed with his fingertips, but nothing happened.  
Suddenly, a spark flew from his fingers, hitting the ground.  Then as 
quickly as it had come, his power was gone.  Worth, gasping, suddenly 
felt fatigued from his exertion.

	"Better," Lore nodded.  

	"It's amazing!  But does it tire you out like that?" Worth said, 
leaning back.

	"You gain endurance very quickly," said Lore.  "But now you can 
see why I brought you here."

	"What?  Why?"

	"So you may better defend yourself, Worth Rodgers."

	Worth leaned back, against a tree, mulling that over.  "Just how 
do you know who I am?" he exploded.  "That's one question you never 
answered."

	Lore was silent for a time.  Worth wondered why; it didn't seem 
like a very difficult question.

	Finally, Worth got impatient.  "Well?"

	"I was seeking you out.  I was searching for those with magical 
potential.  I was aware that those from other... planets might have 
magical potential, even in societies that couldn't utilize magic.  I 
developed the ability to travel, in a fashion, and I went looking 
for... persons such as yourself.  To assist us in our time of great 
need."  And Lore had been quite surprised when he detected Worth.  He 
had sensed that Worth's magical potential was immense, greater than any 
wizard he had known, greater perhaps than the great Wendur, who had 
thrown down the fell captains in the time of the bad chaos.  Lore did 
not know if Worth's ability stemmed from an act of nature, or some 
other source; but he did know that it was vital that he, Lore, find 
Worth, before the evil ones did. 

	Worth nodded.  "And so you tracked me down.  You sensed that I 
had magical ability, is that it?"

	Lore nodded.

	"But can you do that over long distances?"

	"No, it is a complicated explanation."

	Worth looked curious.  "Come to think about it, how can do you do 
magic in my world?  Can I?"

	"So many questions!  It is all very complicated, Worth.  Magic 
does not work in your world, not exactly.  Special remote balancing 
spells are required-"

	"Remote balancing spells?" said Worth, getting lost in the 
jargon.  "Wait a minute.   Go back.  So you came looking for me.  
This... enemy you referred to.  He's also looking for people with 
magical talent from other worlds too."

	"Not exactly."  And Worth sensed that Lore was reluctant to talk 
about it.

	"Then why is this... what's his name, Sargon, after me?"

	"Arnagon," said Lore.  There was a dark pause.  "And do not take 
his name lightly.  He was one of the worst of the fell captains during 
the bad chaos.  He was Arnagonus the Terrible, and he destroyed cities 
as casually as you step on blades of grass.  His force was great, and 
his power was feared by all.  It was Arnagonus who crushed the 
resistance at Kalbard.  It was Arnagonus who eliminated the bulk of the 
region's imperial army in one fell swoop, as well as much of the 
Wayfarer detachment.  None of their bones were ever even found.  As for 
the villagers, most who fell under his sway never were seen alive 
again, or if they were, they were horribly altered, unrecognizable even 
to their loved ones.  The fell captain destroyed nearly all the 
villages in his wake, brick by brick, stick by stone, until there was 
nothing left, nothing but dust."

	Lore took a deep breath.  "And yes, he is pursuing you."

	"But why?"  That was the question that Worth had originally 
asked.

	"He... tracked you through me," said Lore.

	"You led him to me?"  Worth was incredulous.

	"Not precisely."  Lore shook his head.  "But in my zeal to locate 
persons such as yourself, I thoughtlessly allowed Arnagon to trail me.  
You see, Worth, I wasn't aware-"

	"You led them to me?  It's all your fault?" said Worth, getting 
angry.

	Lore nodded.  "In a way I do feel responsible"

	"In a way?  In a way?  How about 'all the way?'"

 	Lore took a deep breath, then continued.  "I am trying to right a 
wrong.  I have rescued you, I will protect you-"

	"Rescued me?  Protected me?  In a swamp?  Send me back, Lore, I'd 
rather take my chances in New York City.  At least I'd die with dry 
feet."  

	"Die you surely would, for it is obvious that the evil one is at 
least partially attuned to you, wherever you went."

	"Attuned?  What does that mean?"

	Lore took a deep breath.  "That too is difficult to explain.  
Just take my word that he would find you, wherever you are.  At least 
here you have me to protect you.  And, in time, you may be able to 
protect yourself."

	"It's just a coincidence, of course, that this coincides with 
your plan to bring me here to fight your wizard wars," said Worth.

   	Lore sighed.  "Worth, there is so much for you to learn.  But we 
have talked enough for now, and you have some to think about, I expect.  
Why don't you close your eyes and get some rest?"

	"Yeah, right," said Worth, leaning back against a tree.  It felt 
uncomfortable.  "Just try not to accidently lead anyone else here 
during the night.  I'm a purple belt in karate, but I don't feel up to 
form tonight."  He closed his eyes, and tried to get comfortable.

	It was all so crazy.  Three hours ago he was in the bar 
association library, working on property law.  And here he was, fleeing 
for his very life.  So Lore had said.  Worth tended to believe him, 
though.  He had seen those... goblins with his very own eyes.  

	It was obvious to worth that Lore thought he had great magical 
potential.  But he had picked the wrong man.  Worth wasn't cut out to 
be a great wizard, desperately involved in a life or death fight.  
Sure, he always wanted to fight for those who needed assistance, the 
helpless, the weak, those fighting for justice, but Worth wanted to 
fight for them in a different, more sedentary, less risky way.  Through 
the law.

	Worth suddenly slapped his leg, without opening his eyes.  And 
here he was, being bitten up by mosquitos in a jungle on the planet 
Koo.  This was not the way he had expected to spend the evening.  For 
the first time in recent memory, he wished he was back home, in New 
York City.  It was cold and inhospitable and unpleasant, but it was 
home.

	

	Chop!  Chop!  Chop!

	Worth opened his eyes.  He had fallen asleep, and now it was 
morning.  Blinking, his eyes painfully adjusted to the bright morning 
light.  The first thing he focused on was the snake, cut neatly into 
three pieces, lying inches away from him.

	"Good morning, Worth," said Lore pleasantly, putting away his 
sword.

	"Aaaagh," said Worth, edging away from the snake corpse.  "Was 
that....."

	"A good piece of morning exercise.  I have told you, Worth 
Rodgers, that I will protect you, as best I am able," Lore said, with 
much sincerity.

	"Protect me?  Why?  If I was in danger, why didn't you just warn 
me?  I could have gone into hiding."

	"And you would have been found.  At least I will be here with 
you.  Defending you.  And, in the meantime, you will learn to defend 
yourself.  I will instruct you personally."

	"Thanks, coach," said Worth, getting up.  They had a brief 
breakfast of hard biscuits and water, and then started on their way.  
"Where, by the way, are we going?"

	"Out of the swamp," said Lore.  "But, if you ask, 'what is my 
plan?', I am not certain.  I could leave you in a place of comparative 
safety, perhaps, if one could be found in all the Lower Threstles."  
Lore had thought of leaving Worth somewhere that he might be protected.  
Originally he had planned to recruit Worth and then spend a leisurely 
time training him.  But the threat of Arnagon had resurfaced suddenly, 
just as Lore found Worth, and, worse, the fell captain had also 
discovered Worth.  Any ideas Lore had for training Worth for the 
eventual defense of the Lower Threstles was out of the question now; 
there was simply no time.  No, Lore would have to handle this new 
threat himself.  All he could do for Worth was try to protect him.

	"You're going to leave me?  While you do what?"

	"Deal with the evil one.  You will not be safe until he is 
removed from power again.  As I have told you, Arnagon has returned.  
Five centuries ago it took an army of men and a talwo of wizards to 
defeat him.  He was of a mighty power, and his magical ability was 
unmatched, saved by a very few, including his master.  He was cruel, 
and wicked, and he destroyed most everything in his path, except for 
the few that he kept as slaves, and after a time they would have rather 
died then continued to live under his rule.  And many of them did.  For 
many of them had been worked to the bone under the duress of slave 
labor, and most were underfed and maltreated, all except a few 
important ones, the slave masters.  These were the altered ones, and 
they never complained; but then they had few facilities left to 
complain with."

	  "To this day what is now called the Lower Threstles is 
underpopulated, compared to what it once was.  Neither has the land has 
fully recovered from his assault, which, as I said, was nearly 500 
years ago.  There used to be trees here, beautiful Mapulas and Eruntas, 
and the green blooming Simulten that used to flower everywhere.  No 
more.  They are not to be seen.  He could not stand anything beautiful, 
anything natural and pure."

	Whyse took a deep breath.  "Since his return, I am not certain as 
to extent of his revived power.  I sense, however, that the fell 
captain is not as great as he once was.  He does not venture forth from 
his stronghold, but sends others to do his work.  Still, his power is 
not to be underestimated, nor that of his minions.   You, as well as 
everone else in Lower Threstles, are in grave danger."

	"I don't understand.  You're saying this guy is five hundred-"

	Suddenly, they heard a loud squawk in the distance.  Lore 
muttered for him to be silent.

	Worth looked at the jungle.  There was a lot of motion in the 
distance; the swamp was teeming with life--fish, birds, and other 
unidentifiable creatures.  But Lore seemed to be on the lookout for 
something else.

	Finally, after a time, Worth hissed, "What is it?  I don't see 
anything."

	"They are near," said Lore.  "They traced the other end of our 
cross jump, and they must be close.  We must be getting on.  Hurry 
now!"  And he started off at a quick pace.

	They hurried on for much of the day, only stopping for a brief 
lunch.  Even then Lore only allowed him ten minutes, muttering "Hurry," 
as his eyes nervously scanned the area.

	Worth looked about too.  He couldn't see anything.  Just dense 
green jungle.  If they were being followed,  he couldn't see signs of 
their pursuers.

	"What is it?  Goblins?"

	"It is best you do not know," said Lore.   And that is all he 
would say.

	But they made a quick pace in the afternoon, hopping from dry 
patch to dry patch in a fairly straight direction.  Worth was gasping 
for breath by midafternoon; the rapid exertion, combined with the 
oppressive humidity, was really wearing him out.  "A break," he gasped.  
"Please."

	Lore looked about, but Worth sensed he was using more than his 
eyes.  "Very well, a short break.  I think we have eluded them, for 
now.  And we have made significant progress."

	"Who is chasing us?" said Worth.  "And how do you know the 
progress we've made?  All this jungle looks alike."

	"Yes, I imagine it would," said Lore.  "But I know, Worth 
Rodgers, that we are nearing the fringes of the Manor Swamp, because we 
have been going in a northwesterly direction for the past day and a 
half.  We started out nearly in the center of the swamp, as best as I 
can reckon, and we have a little less than two day's travel to go 
before we reach the edge.  But even if I had been blind to the 
directions of the compass I would still know that we are in the western 
portion of the Swamp, if only because that is where the Olgari flowers 
are most predominant," he said, plucking a green pedal from the ground.

	"Very smart," said Worth.  "You've obviously been here before.  
But why is it called the Manor Swamp?  Was there really a mansion in 
all this?"

	Lore nodded.  "But there was no swamp here.  In the bad chaos 
when the fell captains of the north came down, they occupied the whole 
of what is now known as the Lower Threstles, as well as many other 
places.  Their base of operations in the Lower Threstles was the great 
manor in Kalbard."

	"You mentioned it before.  Where is this Kalbard?"

	"You're standing in it," said Lore gently.  "It was a wide, open 
county, largely a farming community.  All despoiled and ruined by the 
evil creatures from the northern ruin.  Kalbard, and, by extension, 
Thanadil, what is now known as the Lower Threstles, was part of the 
larger Wayfarer Confederation that ruled from here to the Eastern 
shores, over the mountains and down the hills.  When the evil was 
pushed back, the despoiled land wasted away into... this.  Since then 
the land has been healing, slowly, though there are still parts of the 
swamp that retain vestiges of evil.  But come!  We have dallied enough.  
We must march on!"

	Lore felt tense.  Even 500 years after the bad chaos had been 
cleared away, the Manor Swamp was not a safe place to be.  It was a 
breeding ground for evil, and much of what had plagued the Lower 
Threstles in recent times usually had its origins in the swamp.  The 
senjamo, the living green vines which had crept west and invaded nearby 
villages, had originated in the Manor Swamp.  And the Kanumin Raiders 
had used the swamp for years to attack the roads that meandered along 
the edges of the swamp.  The combined militias had cleaned the rebels 
from the swamps, but at great cost.  Even today, many who foolishly 
chose to enter the swamp never emerge.  What was the cause of their 
doom was little known.

	They walked through the latter part of the day.  When they 
stopped for the night, Lore sat on the ground, grasping his staff.  He 
looked very disturbed.  "Go to sleep, Worth.  We will be getting up 
early in the morning, at first light."

	"Don't you ever sleep?" Worth wondered.

	The wizard cracked a smile.  "When need be."



	The following morning Lore shook Worth, waking him up.

	"Oh, go 'way," said Worth.

	"Come!  We must get out of the swamp today, or come as close to 
the edge as we can.  You may have breakfast now, but there will be no 
lunch, or stopping again until we have made it out.  We are low on food 
supplies as well."

	"Why don't you just create more food?" Worth wondered.

	"You have much to learn about magic, Worth Rodgers."

	"Well, that answers everything, doesn't it?" Worth grumbled.  
"Ok, where's the food?"

	"Above you."

	Worth looked up.  There, perched on a high tree branch, was a 
small wrapped package.

	Worth looked at Lore.  "What's the idea?"

	"Our time is short, but you must take every opportunity to 
practice your magic.  Should anything happen to me, you will be left to 
defend yourself."

	"Then send me back!" said Worth, suddenly getting angry.  "Send 
me back!"

	Lore shook his head.  "That I will not do.  You are targeted, 
now; you would never be safe in your own planet.  Not while Arnagon has 
the same ability to crossover that I do."

	"And what am I here?  Up to my chin in mud and snakes?"

	"We will be moving on in ten minutes.  If you are going to eat, I 
suggest you get a start on eating your breakfast."

	Worth looked up.  "What do you want me to do?"

	"Summon your magic.  Use it to pull the food to you."

	Worth took a deep breath.  He relaxed, trying to feel out the 
magical currents.  Suddenly they were back, more steadier and stronger 
than before.  He pointed at the wrapped up package, and thought, come, 
come.

	Worth could feel the vibrations, emanating from his fingers, 
going to the branch.  The entire branch started to shake slightly.  
Lore raised his eyebrows.

	And then, gasping, Worth found the power failed him.  "I can't do 
this!" he swore, starting to climb the tree.  He had just gotten a 
first purchase on the bark when he felt a sudden stabbing pain in his 
back, causing him to fall back to the ground.

	"Yes you can," said Lore.  He was ten feet away, and his staff 
was pointed straight at Worth.  But somehow Worth didn't think Lore had 
stabbed him with it.

	Worth dusted himself off, glaring at his attacker.  "You saw!  I 
tried!"

	"And did quite well.  Your only problem was, you didn't focus 
properly.  You were trying to shake the whole branch.  Try it again."

	Worth took a deep breath.  He was already a little tired.  He 
focused, concentrating.  He pointed at the package, and sent a wave of 
magic towards it.  Push, push, he thought.  Suddenly, the package fell 
to the ground.  Worth eagerly rushed up to the food. "Did it, I did 
it."

	"Very good," said Lore.  Worth was indeed progressing rapidly.

	But Worth's smile quickly faded when he unwrapped the package and 
hefted the contents.  "A rock?  Where's the food?"

	"Here," said Lore, handing him a sandwich.  "I couldn't afford to 
leave the food there for very long.  The creatures of the swamp would 
have consumed it."

	Worth glared at him, biting into his sandwich.  It was some sort 
of bland cheese, which, due to the oppressive heat they had found 
themselves in, was partially melted.

	"Come!  The time for dallying has passed.  You must eat while we 
go!  Come!"

	They picked their way through bogs for much the rest of the 
afternoon.  Worth found it difficult to keep up with Lore, who picked 
his way nimbly among the patches of land.  At one point Worth saw a 
shortcut and started on an alternate route.

	"Halt!" came Lore's bark.

	Worth froze, in mid step.  "What?"

	"I told you to follow me."

	"I am.  This way is shorter."

	Lore, who was some twenty feet ahead, picked up a rock on the 
ground.  He tossed it so that it landed a good three feet in front of 
Worth.

	"Hey!" said Worth, misinterpreting it for an attack.  "What was 
that for....  oh."  He noticed the rock, sinking into the ground ahead 
of him.

	"Quicksand.  Your eyes are not trained to distinguish it.  I 
implore you to follow me most carefully," said Lore.

	"You bet," said Worth.  The rock had now disappeared completely 
below the surface with a final 'glug glug glug'.  Worth shuddered.  
From then on, he followed Lore's path most closely.

	Lore seemed satisfied when they stopped for the night.  "We are 
almost out of the swamp.  Tomorrow we will leave it entirely.  And 
another day and a half travel, perhaps, and we will make it to Beech."

	"Beech?  What's that?" said Worth, looking for a place to sit.  
The ground seemed moist around here.

	"A small village, not far from the swamp.  Many of the refugees 
of Kalbard settled there, once upon a time.  It's of great importance 
that we get there."

	Worth sat down on the ground.  "Why is it of great...  Aggghh!"  
Suddenly, he felt himself sinking.  In a matter of seconds, he was up 
to his waist in mud.  It was as if the ground around him was liquid.  
And it was heavy.  Worth barely managed to lift his arms out of the 
muck.  "Lore!  Help me out of this."

	But Lore was already moving.  He had found a long vine.  He tied 
one end around a sturdy tree, and threw the other end towards Worth.  
It landed a few feet short of him.

	"It's too far," said Worth, straining to reach it.  The mud 
seemed to grab him, and everytime he struggled the soppy soil would 
make sucking sounds as it stuck to him.  "Throw it again."

	"Summon your magic," said Lore.

	And then Worth knew that he had thrown it short on purpose.  
"This is no time to be playing games!" said Worth.  "I'm too distracted 
to do that now!"

	The ground around him was making 'glug glug glug' sounds as Worth 
sunk deeper.  It smelled, too.

	"Better hurry.  You're sinking quite quickly."  Indeed, the mud 
was up to his chest.

	"My arms are buried under this!" Worth wailed.

	"You don't need your arms!  Do it, now!"

	Worth relaxed, or tried to relax.  At the same time he was 
concentrating, focusing the power that was flowing to him.  He stared 
at the vines.  Come, come here, he thought.  "Come!" he yelled.

	The end of the vine obediently came to him.

	"Great, but I can't lift my arms."  The mud was now up to his 
throat.  "Lore?"

	Suddenly, Worth felt a strong magical force lifting him, lifting 
him... until Worth was halfway out of the mud.  He immediately grabbed 
the vine, and the force holding him gradually disappeared.

	Worth slowly pulled himself out.  Lore offered a hand up but 
Worth ignored it.  "Thanks for nothing.  I almost drowned in there."

	 Lore's face was stern.  "You may find a time when I am not here 
to help you, Worth."

	"Then send me back.  Send me back!  Even New York City is safer 
than this!"  Worth tried to scrape the mud off of him, but it seemed to 
be sticking.

	"I have already explained to you that I cannot do that.  Your 
best chance of survival is here.  Now let us eat, then rest.  This will 
be our last night in the swamp, and for that you should be happy."

	But Worth was not happy.  He tried to wash himself off in a 
nearby stream, but only managed to get some of the larger chunks of mud 
off.  He collapsed in a miserable heap not far from Lore.  He was so 
tired that he ignored the pain of the rocks in his back.

	Suddenly, someone was shaking him.  "What?" said Worth.  "It's 
can't be morning already."  He opened his eyes.  It was dark, pitch 
dark.  It was still the middle of the night.  "Hey!" he cried.

	A hand clamped down over his mouth.  "Quiet!" Lore hissed.  "They 
are near."

	Who, Worth wondered.  But he stayed silent.  It was possible to 
see a little in the dark, but not very much.  Several minutes passed.  
Suddenly, Worth heard a soft crunching noise in the distance.  
Suddenly, he felt a terror grip him.  He felt the urge to run.

	Worth felt himself being pulled to the base of a tree.  "Be 
silent and still.  Your very life depends on it," Lore whispered.  
Lore, standing by Worth, summoned magic to his staff.  He seemed to 
activate some sort of spell, but it wasn't obvious to Worth what he was 
doing.

	The crunching sounds grew louder, until several humanoid shapes 
came into view.  There were four of them.  They walked by, muttering in 
low voices, and then they stopped, not fifteen feet away from Worth and 
Lore.  One of them turned and seemed to be looking straight at Worth.  

	They must have seen us, Worth thought.  Even in the dark, at this 
distance, they must have seen our outlines.  He felt the wild terror 
grip him, strongly now.  But Lore's grip was stronger, and kept him in 
place.

	Worth wished he had a weapon.  He wasn't a skilled soldier, but 
at least it would give him a fighting chance.  There wasn't much he 
could do with his magic, at least, unless their pursuers could be 
frightened by flying sandwiches.  Worth saw Lore's hand grow tense on 
his staff, but otherwise the wizard did not move a muscle.

	The one who looked at Worth turned away.  Their pursuers paused 
for a further moment, and then moved on.  Worth watched them walk away 
with relief.

	It was long after they had passed beyond hearing and sight that 
the vibrations from Lore's magic ceased, and Lore turned to him, 
saying, "You may speak now.  They are gone, for now."

	"Who are they?  And how come they didn't see us?" said Worth 
immediately.

	Lore looked about.  Morning was coming, and rays of light were 
beginning to penetrate the dismal swamp.

	"You might as well know," he said, taking a deep breath.  "They 
are the fell captain's servants, among his most useful, and deadly.  
The Black Daggers."

	"Black Daggers?" said Worth quizically.  "Are they monsters?"

	"Monsters?" and then it was Lore's turn to frown.  "I'm not sure 
I know what you mean by that.  They are men, somewhat like you or I, 
but they serve the evil one, Arnagon.  Their dangerousness arises in 
the fact that they are well trained for the art of war, and they are 
very cruel, and vicious."

	"Oh.  Guys with swords."  Somehow, Worth had feared it might be 
worse than that.

	"Yes, ostensibly.  Highly trained 'guys with swords', as you put 
it.  All except one, that is."

	"One?  Who is that one?"

	"Nay."

	"Come one, tell me," said Worth.  "You've started, finish the 
rest of it."

	 Lore looked irritated.  "His name is Nay, at least, that is what 
he calls himself nowadays.  Several hundred years ago, his name was 
Nayorshoran.  He was, and continues to be, the chief lieutenant of 
Arnagon, who, as a fell captain, was himself a mere lieutenant to the 
greater evil that came down with the bad chaos.  Nayorshoran was with 
Arnagon, 500 years ago, when Kalbard was thrown down, when the council 
chief was slain and the imperial detachment was beaten.  It is said 
that he beat a company of royal imperial defenders virtually 
singlehandedly.  He is not a man, at least not like you or I, or any of 
the other Black Daggers.  When he first appeared, some centuries ago, 
there was some thought that he was a creation, a part of the fell 
captain that Arnagon had fashioned from himself, and animated with his 
own power.  That may be true, for Nayorshoran has all the malevolence 
of his master.  When Kalbard was thrown down and the council was 
captured, it is said that Nay personally supervised the torturing and 
killing of them.  But when their bodies were found there was not a 
mark, not a bruise on them.  All that could be seen were the 
expressions of horrors on the victims, ones of unreasoning fear."

	"You see, Worth, he is quite more than merely a man with a sword.  
How think you he was able to track us through the swamp?  Or walk 
safely through it at night?"

	"I had wondered about that," said Worth.  "But if he's so great, 
how come he didn't see us?"

	Lore smiled.  "To the Black Daggers, we were but another tree."

	"But if this Nay is also a magic user, how come he didn't detect 
your magic?"

	Lore looked Worth straight in the eyes.  "Worth, nearly all of 
the residents of Koo have no magical ability, none at all.  A scant few 
possess the potential to develop a minor ability.  An even smaller 
amount can develop greater skills, such as those I possess.  But even 
few of those can instinctively detect magic, certainly without the aid 
of a spell.  That is one of the ways in which you are special."

	"Oh," said Worth.  He had thought that everyone could feel the 
vibrations.  "So Nay can't?"

	"Not that I know.  Or else we would have been discovered, and 
there would have been a terrible battle."

	"Would you have won?" said Worth.  It was clear that Lore was an 
important wizard, but Worth didn't know just how powerful he truly was.

	"Who can say?" said Lore, deflecting his question.  "But come!  
It is morning.  We must make our way out of the swamp.  This is the 
last leg of our journey, but the most dangerous:  in addition to being 
closely pursued by the Black Daggers, we are passing perilously close 
to the old Manor grounds.  It no longer stands, but great evil still 
dwells there, I think."

	They marched along through the bogs, with Lore in the lead.  Lore 
seemed more uncertain of the way now; he would often pause, choose one 
direction, and then doubleback to take another.  The reason for this 
was easily apparent; there was less solid ground to go on, and solid 
stretches of ground were now few and far between.  Worth found it 
harder and harder to avoid stepping into the bogs.  He had resigned 
himself to walking around with wet feet when he slipped in a bog 
puddle, and fell crashing to the ground.

	Lore looked back at him.  "Really, Worth, we must make better 
time."

	Worth sat up rubbing his backside for a moment.  Then he reached 
into the bog, scooping out a handful of slimey weeds.  He threw them 
onto the bank.  Then Worth started sobbing pitifully to himself.

	"Worth!"

	Worth kept on crying.  "I can't stand it!  I can't stand this 
place!"

	"Worth!" said Lore, and there was a tinge of magic in his voice.

	Worth looked up.

	"The longer you lie there, the longer we stay in the swamp."

	"Then send me back!" Worth cried.  "Oh, I want to go home!"

	Lore looked at Worth, staring him in the eye.  And then, Worth 
saw anger flaring.  The anger was so strong that Worth instinctively 
sprung to his feet.

	"Stop crying like a child!" said Lore.

	"Send me back!" Worth repeated.

	"You will go back, when I decide it's safe!" said Lore.  His eyes 
flared, and menacing vibrations came out of his staff.

	Worth opened his mouth to protest, but he suddenly felt a chill 
go down his spine.  Lore looked serious.  Deadly serious.  Worth 
realized that he had just reached the wizard's limit.  Calming down, he 
said, in a soft voice.  "All right.  Let's go."

	Lore nodded, immediately turning away.  They started walking 
again.  

	They walked in silence.  Worth's feet were starting to ached; he 
daydreamed about riding the New York subway, and being able to find a 
seat.  He could cover ground awfully quickly on the subway.  It wasn't 
so hot too, at least in the air conditioned cars.  And the fare was 
only a dollar.  Or had they raised it again?

	After two hours at a reduced pace, Lore gestured a halt.  Worth, 
perspiring, was glad for the break.

	"Lunch?" said Worth brightly.

	Lore shook his head.  "I see two possible ways ahead, around a 
large bog, but I am not sure which is best.  I am going to briefly 
scout ahead on one of them.  I want you to stay here."

	"Hey!" said Worth.  "Listen, Lore, I'm sorry about before...."

	Lore's expression softened.  "I am sorry as well.  I think we 
both overreacted."

	"Then let me go with you."

	Lore shook his head.  "Not practical.  You will only slow me 
down," he explained.  "Wait here.  I will not be gone long.  And, 
whatever you do, do not move from this spot!"

	He headed off into the jungle, picking his way among the dry 
pieces of land.

	"Great, great, leave me here in a nightmarish version of the 
Everglades," Worth muttered.  "All I need is a bunch of parrots and I 
can start my own show."  He sat down on the ground.  "Just how did I 
get into this mess?  The answer is, I didn't.  I was brought here, 
against my will.  This whole mess started in the bar association 
library.  That's the last time I go there to do my research.  Yes, sir, 
next time I go all the way to the NYU law library.  A lot nicer down 
there.  Not far from the World Trade Center."

	Worth thought about New York.  He missed his apartment.  He 
missed clean clothes, a soft bed, regular meals... things he had taken 
for granted until a short while ago.  And ice cream!  In this weather, 
Worth would have gladly paid whatever a price gouging street vendor was 
charging for an ice cream pop.  Oh, how he missed cold food....  and 
air conditioning.  Yes, he really missed his air conditioning.  Would 
he ever have air conditioning again?  Worth continued to feel 
exceedingly sorry for himself, thinking about his lost luxuries, as 
least until he heard the noise.

	Crunch crunch.

	Someone was coming.  It was probably Lore, returning from his 
little trek.  Still, Worth decided to play it safe.  He darted behind a 
thick tree.

	The crunching sounds were not coming from the direction that Lore 
had gone.  They were coming from the opposite direction, and Worth 
could now make out shapes in the distance.  Three or four of them.  
Worth was filled with an overwhelming fear.

	The Black Daggers.

	Worth immediately ran for it.  Perhaps if he had thought more 
rationally about it, he might have decided to stay hidden behind the 
tree, hoping they would pass him.  But an unreasoning fear gripped him, 
and he ran off, hoping he was still too far for the Black Daggers to 
see him.  Worth didn't believe Lore, not entirely, with regard to 
everything he had told Worth about his situation; but he instinctively 
believed that their pursuers were not good people to meet in an empty 
swamp.

	Worth started running, not looking back.  He was too busy looking 
at the ground, trying to pick dry spots of land to go on.  He felt his 
feet making 'clop clop clop' noises as they stomped on the ground, but 
that couldn't be helped.  He ran, in no particular direction, not even 
keeping track of the way back.

	After several minutes he did stop and turn around, and there was 
no sign of pursuit.  Perhaps he had gotten away without being seen.

	The problem now was that he was lost in the jungle, on an alien 
planet, without food, drinking water, or any means of defense.  His one 
friend on the planet, if one chose to call Lore that, was nowhere to be 
seen.

	Worth considered trying to retrace his path back to the point 
where Lore had left him.  That was the most logical thing to do, and 
yet Worth was reluctant.  His mind told him that the Black Daggers 
should be gone, and yet the possibility remained that they would be 
there, waiting for him.  But he forced himself to try to retrace his 
route.

	After several minutes, though, it was clear that he was more lost 
than ever.  Every bog, every fern, every vine covered tree looked 
alike.  He could be heading in any direction.  Including towards the 
Black Daggers.  Even that would be an improvement.  As least they could 
give him directions.

	Think, Worth, think, he told himself.  Lore had said that they 
were near the edge of the swamp, and that they were going northwest, 
making for a village.  Therefore if he went northwest he would get out 
of the swamp as well.  Worth looked at the sun.  It was still 
midmorning, and the sun was still coming up from the... east.  Or did 
it come up from the east on this world?  Well, he had to make certain 
assumptions.  After a moment of careful thought, Worth headed off in 
the direction that he thought was roughly northwest.

	He walked for some time, picking his way among the bogs.  Luckily 
the incidents of quicksand were fewer as he went on, giving rise to his 
hope that he was nearing the edge of the swamp.  In fact, as the 
afternoon went on Worth found long stretches of solid land that he 
could easily traverse.  But he still couldn't see the edge of the 
jungle.  It could be thirty feet away, and he wouldn't be able to see 
through the dense foliage.

	Worth looked at his watch.  That and his wallet were now his sole 
links to his own home.  The time was 5:00.  This place, Koo, also 
seemed to operate on the 24 hour cycle, or so it seemed.  On Earth, 
Worth would be eating a pre-dinner snack about now,  a couple of Oreos 
that he squirreled away in the center drawer of his desk at work.

	But he hadn't even had lunch.  And his stomach was growling.  
Nothing around him looked very edible, unless he cared to dine on vines 
and dung beetles.  Which might soon prove to be his only option.

	Worth was still contemplating his dining options when a snake 
hurled itself out of a tree, leaping for his throat.

	Worth caught it out of the corner of his eye, and jumped out of 
the way.

	The snake, a huge twelve foot python that must have been a foot 
wide on the side, hit the ground and recoiled, reorienting on Worth. It 
was large and green, and it hissed angrily at him.

	Instinctively, Worth summoned his magic.  He pointed at the snake 
and yelled, "Now!", not quite sure what he was doing.  A bolt of energy 
sprang from his fingertips and hit the snake on the side.  The hit 
caused a gash on the snake's oily skin, and it gave a loud steamy hiss.  
Worth aimed another bolt but the snake weaved and the bolt missed, 
hitting the ground.  The snake coiled itself for an attack again and 
Worth knew this was his last chance.  With his energy waning he 
launched another bolt, one that hit the snake in the fangs.  And then 
Worth collapsed to the ground in a wave of fatigue.

	After a few seconds he felt his strength returning and he managed 
to force himself to get up.  The snake's head was a charred smoky ruin.  
Only the bones were left.

	"Wow," said Worth.  Lore had been right; he did have magical 
ability.

	But it was getting dark already, and Worth knew he was too tired 
to go on.  The jungle didn't look like a very good place to spend the 
night, alone.  This part of the swamp had a different feel to it.  It 
felt more... sinister.  The trees had a dark, menacing look to them. 
Sometimes Worth thought he heard a distant "ooooh" in the background, 
but he could never locate the source of it.  Worth felt cornered, as if 
some undefinable evil was closing in on him.

	Ooooh.

	Damn it, he should have been out of the jungle by now!  Lore said 
they were nearly at the edge of it.  Unless... he hadn't been going in 
the right direction.  What was it that Lore had warned him about?  The 
Manor part of the swamp?  Could he be there now?

	Oooooooh.

	Worth kept walking, buoyed by the faint hope that he would 
suddenly find himself at the edge of the swamp.  He didn't want to 
spend another night here, not if he could help it.  He shivered as he 
felt the hostility of the jungle around him.

	But soon darkness prevented him from going any further.  It was 
almost totally dark now.  Worth looked up, eyeing the unfamiliar stars.  
The moon was out, too.  No, strike that, there were two moons.  They 
provided enough light so that Worth could see a few feet in front of 
him.    But the light would be insufficient to navigate the treacherous 
bogs and quicksand.

	Worth settled down at the base of a tree.  The ground was a 
little moist here, but at least he wasn't sinking in.  Worth tried to 
will himself to close his eyes, but he couldn't.  The swamp was teeming 
with night life, and perhaps... something else.  Worth saw, or 
imagined, swirling shapes in the distance, black forms in the night.  
They must have been tricks of his eyes, he reasoned, for they would 
stay in place, swirling for a while, and then disappear.

	OOOOOOH!

	It was getting a lot louder now, and could be heard clearly.  
Worth looked about; it seemed as if the entire darkness was alive, as 
if it was encircling him, getting ready to pounce.  He held his breath.

	Worth kept very quiet.  If there was anything out there, maybe he 
wouldn't be noticed.  Worth kept a piece of wood in his hand.  It 
wasn't much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing.

	Worth looked down at the ground.  He was getting tired.  But 
somehow he felt he should not sleep.  He eyed the ground in front of 
him.  Funny, how the ground was lumpy.  He hadn't noticed that before.

	Worth looked up.  He missed home.  He no longer thought New York 
City was inhospitable, compared to this place.  He wished he could be 
back at  Carey, Blumberg, & Butnick, working on a corporate memo.  
Maxine would be peeved at him for not completing his assignment, but he 
could handle that.  He could also cook up an explanation for his 
unexplained absence.  They might lower his bonus at the end of the 
year, but Worth could live with that.  Yes, that was key.  At least he 
would live.  At least he would be safe.

	Worth suddenly noticed that the lumps on the ground seemed to 
have moved.  That's funny, he thought.  Now they were closer to him.  
One was only inches from him.  Could the ground be shifting?

	Worth leaned forward, looking at one of the lumps closely.

	Suddenly, it sprang forward, with a life of its own, and jumped 
onto Worth's leg.  He felt a stab of pain.

	"Ow!" said Worth, trying to get up.  But suddenly several other 
lumps sprang onto his leg.  Worth bashed at them with his stick, trying 
to get them off, but they were staying on.  And they were all causing 
pain.  Worth could see more lumps approaching, wiggling towards him.

	Worth hit one hard, with his stick, and it came off.  But there 
were still three others on his body, causing great pain.  Worth 
suddenly stumbled and his stick flew from his hand.  Immediately he 
tried to summon his magic, but the pain was too great, and he couldn't 
concentrate.  Worth fell back on the ground, still trying to get the 
lumps off with his hand.  The pain was increasing now, and he didn't 
know how much longer he could bear it.  There was a pain on his left 
leg, and his right arm, and on his ankle, and it was getting more and 
more intense....

	Suddenly, Worth felt an odd sensation.  He looked down, and his 
body was glowing.  The lumps were falling off his body.  The pain was 
nearly gone.  When the last lump had fallen to the ground the glowing 
stopped.  Worth looked up.

	Standing there, with a glowing staff in hand, was Lore.

	"Am I glad to see you!" Worth cried.

	"And so you should," said Lore.  "You have been quite reckless, 
Worth Rodgers, and have nearly succeeded in extinguishing yourself."  
He bent down, touching Worth's disgarded stick with his staff.  The 
staff no longer glowed, but now the stick did.

	"I couldn't help it," said Worth, struggling to get up as Lore 
gave him a hand.  "The Black Daggers...."

	Lore nodded.  "I spied them upon my return but managed not to be 
seen.  But it was foolhardy of you, Worth, to run off in the Manor 
Swamp, especially here to the east, so close to the Manor grounds."

	"East!  I tried to go northwest," Worth said, as Lore examined 
his wounds.  "But I'm no eagle scout.  I'm a corporate attorney.  How 
am I?" he added anxiously.

	"I do not know what you mean by corporate attorney," said Lore.  
"I am not used to the customs of your world.  But I am a healer, after 
a fashion, and my services will not be needed.  The Scaloi did you no 
lasting harm.  There will be some discomfort there for a short time, 
and temporary scars, but no lasting harm, I think."

	"The what?  Scaloi?" said Worth, looking at a gash in his arm.  
It did not seem deep; in fact, it looked no worse than sunburn.

	"Or Muddites, as they are more commonly called.  The evil of the 
Manor house has infected much of the area around here, including the 
ground," said Lore.  He looked about, at the weaving shapes in the 
distance.  "Begone, foul forms!  Lore is here!  I will allow no harm to 
come to my charge!"

	The shapes seemed to heed Lore, and they backed away.

	"That was great," said Worth.  "But aren't you worried about 
attracting the Black Daggers?"

	"We must deal with one evil at a time," said Lore.  "Besides, I 
tracked them, several hours ago, heading in another direction.  At 
first when I returned, I thought they had apprehended you, so I 
followed their trail until I caught up with them.  Fortunately they did 
not see me.  When I saw that you were not among them, I doubled back, 
and eventually discovered your trail.  But come, we must go now!"

	They walked through much of the night.  Worth, though a little 
sore and more than a little tired, kept up with Lore.  He didn't want 
to spend another night here in the swamp.  Lore lifted the glowing 
stick, holding it from an end that did not glow, and used that as a dim 
torch to give them some light as they walked.  Lore realized that if 
the Black Daggers were close by that he and Worth would be immediately 
spotted, but their need to escape this area of the swamp was pressing.

	The morning sun was high in the sky before they finally found 
their way out of the swamp.  Suddenly they were in a clearing, a small 
meadow, leading to a thinning forest.  They had formally left the 
swamp.  Open land, open air!  Worth reveled in it.

	He felt like giving a yell of relief.   But he was quite 
conscious that the Black Daggers were still around and about.  Still, 
he was quite pleased, and once they reached the trees Lore allowed him 
a short break.

	Lore had long since extinguished the glowing stick when the sun 
started to ascend, and now all he carried was his staff.  Putting that 
down for a moment, he rummaged through his sack, and handed Worth a 
sandwich and a skin of water.  "You haven't eaten in a day.  I expect 
you'll be famished."

	"I'll say," said Worth.  Although to be truthful he hadn't been 
hungry for many hours; fear had driven his hunger again.  But as soon 
as they had left that dreadful swamp he immediately felt better.

	"So we're done, we're really done?  No more dreadful swamp?" 
Worth said, only half believing it.  He felt as if a blanket of terror 
had been lifted from his heart.

	Lore nodded.  "The only thing that lies between us and Beech now 
are forests and fields.  In fact, we may come on a road to Beech in a 
short time."

	"Just what is it we're going to do in this Beech anyway?" said 
Worth.

	"We are going to look in the records in the village hall," said 
Lore.  "I have not been there for some time, but I recall there were 
records stored there from before the bad chaos."

	"And what good will that do us?" said Worth, chomping down his 
sandwich.  It was another bland cheese sandwich, but it tasted great to 
Worth.

	"We shall see," said Lore.  "We shall see."  He didn't voice his 
hope, for it was a thin one.  But Lore hoped there would be records 
relating to the fall of Arnagon.  Perhaps if they could learn how 
Arnagon had been beaten the first time they would learn how to best 
defeat him again.

	Lore eyed Worth eating his sandwich.  The fellow was so hopeless 
on his own.  If only Lore had time to train him.  Lore could see the 
potential within him.  He had already learned to harness magic in a way 
that would have taken an ordinary apprentice months.  But now he had to 
learn to intensify his ability, to channel it.  If only they had the 
time to stop and fashion a staff for Worth!  But there was not the 
time, nor the tools, and the tree stock in this area was entirely 
unsuitable.  But first things first.  What would happen to Worth if 
anything happened to Lore?

	"Worth," said Lore.  Worth looked up.

	"I have something to tell you.  You know I will do my best to 
protect you.  But should we become separated I want you to go to Maple, 
and seek out a magic user named Palmer.  Tell him who you are and where 
you come from, and he will offer you his protection, I think."

	"Whoa, whoa," said Worth.  "Do you plan on leaving me?"

	"Not at present," said Lore.  "But as we've seen in the swamp, it 
is possible for us to be separated.  And for all my powers I am not 
invulnerable.  Maple is perhaps a half week's travel to the northwest 
of here.  You will be reasonably safe there.  But remember, you must 
ask for Palmer.  That's Palmer, in Maple, to the northwest," Lore 
repeated.

	"Why don't you just send me back?" Worth pleaded.

	"Because then you would have no chance," said Lore.  "You said 
before that it was my fault that Arnagon is pursuing you.  Perhaps that 
is so.  It was not my intention.  But I will now do my best to protect 
you, or to arrange for you to be protected, until Arnagon is defeated."

	"Great," Worth muttered, finishing his sandwich.  "But what if 
this Arnagon defeats you?"

	And to that Lore gave no answer.

	

	

Chapter III:  An Encounter in Beech



	They started off soon after that.  In the early afternoon they 
came upon a road, a simple wide unpaved track cut into the ground.  "A 
road!  We're saved!  Civilization!"  Worth cried.  He had already 
figured out that the level of technology in this world was much beneath 
his own.  But any sort of civilization was welcome after his experience 
in the swamp.

	"Hush!" cried Lore, looking around.  "Do not forget that we are 
still pursued."

	"Oh.  Yeah."

	In a short while they came upon a lone farmhouse on the road.  It 
was a ramshackle wooden structure, built a few dozen feet off the dirt 
track.  Worth was excited, but Lore cautioned him, "Let me speak for us 
both."

	They went up to the door and knocked.  And they waited.

	There was no answer.  A gust of wind blew, and the house creaked.

	Lore and Worth looked at each other.

	"No one home?" said Worth, giving a weak smile.

	Lore stood very still.  "There are no farm animals here," he 
said.  "I do not hear them.  This is very unusual.  Come!"  And he 
pushed open the door.

	The entire farm was abandoned.  And it looked like the owners had 
left in a hurry, too.  Drawers of clothing were still half opened, jugs 
of juice had been left out on the kitchen counter, and they even found 
some suitcases that were half packed.

	"Whatever happened here, they left very quickly," said Lore.  
"Apparently they only took their farm animals with them."  He opened a 
cupboard.  "Ah, there is food.  Good, we can replenish our supplies.  I 
do not think the owners will be coming back for it for some time."

	"What do you mean?" said Worth, a chill going down his spine.

	"The minions of the fell captain are near.  Whether they have 
already come and bypassed the house, or else they have yet to approach, 
I do not not.   But in either event, the enemy is near."  Lore sighed.  
"It is just like before.  During the bad chaos the fell captain acted 
in exactly the same manner.  Will things never change?"

	"What do you mean?"

	"He still hungers for the Lower Threstles.  Power and control, 
those are his primary goals.  He wishes to take and take, but his rule 
is ruinous.  Will he never realize that his way can never work?"  Lore 
shook his head.  "The fell captain has not changed."  His expression 
became even more serious.  "This abandoned farm is not a good sign.  
Perhaps some great evil has occurred in my absence.  We must get on to 
Beech."

	"Must we go so soon?" said Worth.  He was tired, having gotten no 
sleep at all last night in the swamp.

	Lore eyed Worth.  The young man was near collapse, that was very 
clear.  And it was only a short time until dark, in any event.  "No," 
said Lore.  "A day will not make a difference, I hope.  I fear that 
whatever has happened, has already happened.  If there were battling in 
Beech, we would have heard of it from here."  Lore considered, then he 
said, "We will start out first thing in the morning.  I too am very 
tired, and have not dared to sleep or rest in a long time."

	"Will we be safe here?"

	"As safe as anywhere outside of a major town such as Maple, I 
suspect.  But we will alternate and keep a watch during the night.  I 
am afraid, Worth, that I no longer have the endurance to stay up the 
whole of the night guarding you."

	Worth went to bed shortly after dinner.  He felt glorious.  He 
had gotten a long delayed bath, and felt much better.  The swamp mud 
that had been itching his skin was finally washed off.  Worth was even 
able to discard his muddy clothes; he had found a set of farmer's 
clothes that were approximately his size.  For the first time since he 
had left his home planet, he was in a bed, with a pillow and a blanket, 
under a roof.  He felt like he was at home, almost.  If he were home, 
he'd be watching TV... getting ready to go to sleep... preparing for a 
new day at the firm....  Worth was so exhausted that he collapsed 
immediately into sleep.

	Lore was tired, but he didn't wake Worth until three quarters of 
the night had passed.  When he had done so he said, "Wake me an hour, 
no later, after the sun comes up."  And then he immediately lay down 
and did not stir.

	When Worth woke Lore in the morning, they were both in a better 
condition.  Both were now rested and well fed, and they had replenished 
their supplies.  Lore even found a small pack for Worth, where he could 
store some of the food.

	They started down the road as the early morning rays shined down 
on them.  "It feels like a nice day," said Worth cheerily.  It wasn't 
too hot, his sores had stopped actively throbbing with pain, and he was 
refreshed.

	But Lore had a somber expression on his face, as if he foresaw 
some unpleasant task ahead.  There was a hardness in his expression, as 
if he were bracing himself.  Worth did not find his mood comforting.

	They reached Beech shortly after lunch.  It was a small village, 
an aglomoration of small farms within a relatively condensed area.  A 
few stores and small establishments lined the dirt track that served as 
the main road in and out of town.

	But there was no one there.  The village was empty.  It had been 
ransacked; several of the wooden huts had been burned down, and the 
rest had been looted.  The town had an eerie feel to it; Worth 
shivered; the whole place felt like a large cemetary, empty, barren, 
and desolate.  The wind blew bits of rubbish towards them, and the 
trash tinkled as it scraped along the ground.  Worth found it 
unnserving.

	"Where has everyone gone?" said Worth.  "Have they all fled?"

	"Not all," said Lore.  They came upon a body, of a villager, who 
had been stabbed in the back.  Worth gasped.

	From then on they came upon several more bodies, all villagers.  
Most were hacked in many places, as if they had been stabbed, 
repeatedly, even after they went down.  Worth saw the face of one of 
them; its final expression was one of horrow, and the mouth was open, 
as if in midscream.  But now the only thing that came from the mouth 
was a small stream of dried blood.   Worth winced, quickly looking 
away.  "What happened?  How come we don't see any bodies of attackers?"

	"Beech had no defense," said Lore.  "If there was a local 
militia, it fled along with the rest of the villagers."

	"But fled from what?  Four Black Daggers?"

	Lore did not answer him.  "We must get to the village hall.  The 
records may yet still be intact."  He strode purposely to a large 
wooden building across the town square.  He was hoping against hope 
now, hoping that the records he had seen many years ago were still 
there.  Beech was an old village, older even than the bad chaos.  It 
had been destroyed when the fell captains had come down from the north, 
of course; but settlers had returned after the fell captains had been 
pushed back, and much of the records of the campaign was stored here.  
Even Maple, the capitol of the Lower Threstles, had comparatively 
little information about the bad chaos; for Maple had been built after 
the defeat of the fell captain, and the original settlers there had not 
played a major part in the defeat of the sweeping evil.  Lore realized 
that there might also have been some useful information in the 
libraries at Kiriender Tal, but that was many miles to the east, and 
such a journey would be long and hazardous on foot.  No, Beech was the 
best bet.

	The village hall was intact.  Much of the furniture had been 
upturned and smashed, and many of the possessions had been looted, but 
the attackers had seen no value in the papers and books stored there.  
Still, many of the documents stored there were scattered haphazardously 
around the floor, some torn into shreds.  Lore started to sift through 
them.

	"What are you looking for?" said Worth.

	"I remember, when I was here many years ago, reading a manuscript 
about the sweeping away of the bad chaos.  There might be some 
descriptions as to how Arnagon was dealt with."  He continued to look 
through the papers.

	Worth heard a noise outside.  Lore looked up.  "I'll take a 
peek," said Worth.  He went to the door, and cautiously looked out.

	There was nothing.  The town was silent, and empty.  Perhaps it 
had just been the wind.  Waves of air periodically breezed through the 
town, rattling anything that wasn't nailed down.

	"Ah, got it," said Lore.  Worth immediately rushed over

	Lore started flipping through the pages, looking for the right 
section.  "Here there is a reference to the first battle... the 
retreat..."  He flipped through a few more pages.  "Ah, here, yes, 
here, it is talked about the fall of the fell captain.  'There were 
many fell captains of the time, but our immediate concern was 
Arnagonus.  It was he who had destroyed Kalbard, and occupied Senren, 
and Malaford.  There is some here about the occupation."  Lore winced.  
He did not read any of those passages.  Skipping forward, he read,  
"His forces stood poised to take the rest of Thanadil.  Bornon, the 
head of the imperial detachment, was slain, but Dronan his brother 
rebuilt the forces and mustered an army... (it talks here about the 
long conflicts on the Battle Plains, a land to the south of here) ... 
we drove him south, south, beyond the Battle Plain, to Maytig.  It was 
there, on the rocks of the quarry, where the foul creature was stabbed, 
by Dronan, Captain of the combined forces.  We thought Arnagonus 
defeated, but he escaped, back to Lominanzac, his foul enchantment, and 
summoned his remaining forces.  Our top lore masters determined that 
the green rocks of the Maytig, properly emmasized, could harm the 
creature, for they would summon the memory of his suffering, and make 
the creature feel it again.  The rocks needed to be carefully emmasized 
by a qualified-"

	Suddenly, they heard the sounds of voices outside.  Lore 
immediately took the book, putting it in his pouch.  He and Worth 
peered out of the window.

	There were goblins.  Many of them.  Squads of them were rifling 
through the village.  They seemed to be searching for something.  Or 
someone.

	"Come!" said Lore, pulling him to a rear exit.  They made their 
way down to a back alley.  Lore and Worth rushed from one small street 
to another.  They spied the goblins patrolling the streets.  They must 
have been fanning out over the entire village.  Suddenly Lore and Worth 
ran right into two goblins coming around a street corner.  Both groups 
were surprised, but Lore was quicker, raising his staff and sending 
stabs of energy at the two goblins.  They fell to the ground, crying 
out.  Worth heard the sounds of rushing feet.

	"Come on!" said Lore, pushing Worth into an abandoned house down 
a sidestreet.  He quietly but quickly slammed the door shut behind 
them.

	"Why?"said Worth.  "We could just bust out of here."

	"It is better to wait.  I cannot handle a company of goblins with 
great ease," said Lore, looking out the window.  "We will camoflage 
ourselves, like we did in the swamp, and simply wait-"  He stopped 
himself.  He looked out the window, and saw them.  The Black Daggers.

	There were six of them, this time.  All were clad in dark leather 
armor, and were armed with long swords.  One of them had a particularly 
fearsome black helmet, and Lore instinctively knew who that was.  
"Nayorshoran," he said softly.

	"What?  The Black Daggers?" whispered Worth.

	"Shh!" said Lore.  He spied the Black Daggers on the street.  
They were standing still.  One of them, the one with the helmet, was 
slowly turning about, as if feeling for something.  Then he stopped 
turning, and stared at the house that Lore and Worth were hidden in.  
He pointed straight to it.

	Lore realized he had miscalculated.  Either the Black Daggers had 
become more attuned to them, or they had found some other more accurate 
way to track them.  Either way it was no longer clear that magical 
camoflague would suffice.  Lore could not take the chance.  He quickly 
turned to Worth.  "Worth, the time for us to depart has come.  I am 
going to leave through the front entrance now.  I want you to wait ten 
seconds, and then leave through the back.  Make for Maple, in the 
Northwest, and avoid the road.  It is no longer safe."  He said it 
rapidly, as he drew his sword and got a better grip on his staff.

	"What's... what's going to happen to you?" said Worth.  The 
wizard looked worried, more concerned than Worth had ever seen him 
before.

	"Go!" Lore barked.  Worth took one final look back at the wizard, 
and then he departed, taking his position by the rear door.

	By now the Black Daggers were approaching the house.  A squad of 
goblins soldiers with short swords were backing them up.  Lore stepped 
through the door.

	"Stop!" he cried.  And the command in his voice was so forceful 
that they found themselves halting in their tracks.  Worth scampered 
out the backdoor, but he peered at the scene from behind the corner of 
the house.

	The Black Dagger with the helmet, the most fearsome one of them 
all, laughed.  "Stranger, you presume to tell us what to do?  We will 
have your head!"  And they all laughed.

	"Laugh while you might, Nayorshoran."

	And that stopped their laughter cold.  "It is him, master," one 
of the Black Daggers whispered.

	"Yes, we have heard of you too, idle wanderer," said Nay, the 
terrible Black Dagger leader.  "But come now, where is your charge?  We 
would very much like to meet him."  He looked passed Lore, into the 
house, and Worth, still peering around the corner from the back,  felt 
a wave of terror grip him.

	"He is elsewhere.  As you should be.  Return to your master!  
Tell him I will be coming for him soon!"

	The Black Daggers seemed shaken by that, Nay did not react.  "Oh 
yes, witless wanderer?  Perhaps you would like to accompany us now to 
tell him yourself."  And he smiled grimly.   "Or perhaps you overrate 
your importance, and we will now dispose of you, troublesome irritant 
that you are." There was a steely malice in his voice, one that could 
not be ignored.

	By now a second squad of goblins had formed behind the first.  
Nay realized time was on his side.

	As did Worth.  Lore was buying him escape time, and here he was 
not making use of it.  He scampered away, at a run.  There were still 
goblins in the streets, but fewer of them; all seemed to be hurrying to 
the greater conflict that was now brewing, and Worth was able to slip 
by them, undetected.  

	When he had gotten several streets away, and past the bulk of the 
remaining goblin troopers, he saw a flash, and heard several loud 
explosions.  He turned, and saw fireworks erupting from his former 
location.  Lore must be fighting them.  As long as there were 
fireworks, Lore was fighting them.

	Worth made his way to the edge of town, quickly dodging into the 
forest.  He was running hard now, breathing deeply.  Any minute now he 
expected to hear a shout, a challenge.  But Worth didn't look back.  He 
kept running.  Ahead were the trees, the edge of the forest, just a few 
feet away....

	He made it, and immediately ducked behind the tree.  He turned 
back for one final look at the village.  There was no sign of pursuit.  
Lore's gambit had worked.   And then Worth noticed something else.  

	All noises of battle had stopped.  There were no more flashes.  
Unless Lore had defeated an entire company of goblins, as well as the 
Black Daggers, he had been defeated.  He had given his life so that 
Worth's could be saved.

	That stunned Worth.  Lore, who barely knew him, had given his 
life for Worth.  Worth felt incredible grief choking up in his throat.  
And then the anger came.  He would avenge Lore's death.  He would train 
himself, and when he became powerful, he would fight the Black Daggers.

	  Choking back sadness, Worth struck off into the wilderness.


Chapter IV:  The Long Road



	Worth tried to convince himself he wasn't lost.  He had tried, as 
best he could, to head in a generally northwesterly direction.  Which 
probably meant that he wasn't.  Worth was a skilled and accomplished 
individual.  He was a masterful corporate attorney.  He had graduated 
magna cum laude from Yale University and cum laude from Columbia Law 
School.  But as an outdoorsman his skills ranged from pitiful to 
nonexistent.

	"Let's see," said Worth.  "It's about two o'clock, the sun's 
about there, therefore... I should go that way.  I think.  I hope."  He 
started off, across the forest.  He constantly kept looking over his 
shoulder, looking for signs of pursuit.

	Worth was understandably depressed.  His only friend in this 
hostile world was gone.  He was now truly alone.  And defenseless.  
This was not a cheery thought.

	"Be happy!" he yelled.  But then Worth ccringed, hearing his 
voice echo in the distance.

	Worth  tried to look on the bright side.  He had food and water 
now, in the back pack that Lore had thoughtfully provided him.  And 
while there were hostiles in the neighborhood, the area wasn't nearly 
so bad as that terrible swamp. 

	On the other hand, things could have been a lot better.  By now, 
Worth had been absent from his job for several days without any 
explanation.  He was certain that there was a pink slip was waiting for 
him on his desk.  (Correction:  it wasn't his desk anymore.  The pink 
slip had probably been mailed to him.)  Still, he could get another 
job.  If he could get home.

	Worth grinned.  He thought about how he now appreciated the 
things he had once ignored.  Little things, that he had grown used to, 
taken for granted.  Like three meals a day.  Or a soft bed to sleep on.  
Or not being chased by people who wanted to kill him.  Well, Worth had 
been mugged once or twice.  But that didn't count.

	Worth walked through the forest for most of the afternoon.  It 
was approaching four o'clock when he saw the road.  To his credit he 
correctly managed to figure out which end of the road went back to 
Beech.  That was the one direction he didn't want to go.  The next 
question was whether he wanted to use the road at all.  It did seem to 
go roughly in the northwesterly direction he was trying to go on, as 
best as he could tell.

	But should he go on the road at all?  Lore had explicitly warned 
him not to.  But if he didn't use the road, he could easily become 
lost. At least following the road would have him going in the right 
direction.  Worth pondered this for a while.  Finally he decided to 
walk at the edge of the forest, along the road but not on it.  It 
slowed his progress but was probably was a safer option.

	He had only been on the road for a half hour went he heard the 
clip clop of horses' hooves.  Worth froze; what should he do?

	He settled on ducking behind a tree.  He would look at who was 
coming, and then he would see.  He wasn't in need of assistance, not 
exactly, but it would be good to have allies on the road with him.  Or 
maybe even a free ride to Maple.

	The horsemen quickly came into view, coming at a slow trot.  
There were eight of them in all, each on a mount of their own.  They 
wore bright shiny armor and were men of size, each with long red beards 
and hard faces.

	These definitely couldn't be in league with the goblins, Worth 
thought.  Or the Black Daggers.  Just as they passed, he stepped out of 
the underbrush, and yelled, "Hey!"

	The horsemen immediately turned around and encircled Worth in one 
smooth maneuver.  Several of them dismounted.  Worth started to have 
second thoughts about revealing himself.

	A tall horseman with the air of command, undoubtedly their 
leader, approached Worth. "Well well well... what do we have here?"

	"My name is Worth," said Worth, suddenly feeling fearful without 
knowing why.

	"Hm...." said the stranger, not offering his own name.  He eyed 
Worth closely.  "Not a soldier, no... a refugee, perhaps?  Yes, that 
seems more likely.  What've you got in the bag, refugee?" he said, 
indicating Worth's backpack.

	"Nothing," said Worth, starting to back away.  He bumped into a 
horse.  "Just food.  Look, see?"  He opened his backpack, showing the 
rations.  Worth suddenly realized who these people were.  He could tell 
from their manner, from the hungry expressions on their faces.  He had 
been a lawyer long enough to spot their type immediately.   They were 
thieves.  Worth started to back away.

	"Then we'll just take it then," said one of the men, grabbing the 
backpack from Worth's hands.

	"Uh... ok," said Worth.  He didn't really have any choice.  "As 
you can see, I don't have anything else.  Can I go now?" he said 
meekly.

	The leader took exception to that remark.  "Don't have anything 
else?"

	"No, no, not a thing.  See?"

	"Why of course you do!" their leader chuckled.  "Don't be so 
modest, my fellow.  You'll make excellent blade practice."  And the 
leader swiftly drew his sword.

	"Wait!" Worth cried.  "I'm a magic user."

	"A what?" said the leader, momentarily pausing.

	"A... a wizard," said Worth.

	The men got a good laugh out of that.  They all laughed, long and 
hard, while Worth tried to keep from shivering.

	"He says he's a wizard," laughed the leader.  Then he said, 
"Where's your staff, Mr. Wizard?"

	"My what?"

	"Your staff?  Surely you know every wizard's got a staff," said 
the leader.  His followers were laughing even harder now.

	"Uh... uh... I just became a wizard recently.  Haven't gotten a 
chance to get a staff," said Worth, getting nervous.

	"You hear that, fellows?" laughed the leader.

	Eyeing them carefully, Worth tried to edge his way out of their 
circle.

	Immediately the leader cried, "Hey, stop!"  He raised his sword.  
Worth stopped.  "Bruno!" said the leader, snapping his fingers.

	A gargantuan, complete with a large red beard, dismounted from 
his saddle.  "Yes chief?"

	The leader hooked a thumb at Worth.  "This one's amusing.  
Tenderize the meat before we slice it!" he said, giving a wicked grin.

	Bruno approached Worth, his large fists firmly clenched.

	"Stop!" cried Worth. "Or I'll use magic on you!"

	Bruno paid no attention, grabbing Worth and then tossing him to 
the ground in a heap.

	Worth quickly scrambled up.  He attempted to summon his magic, 
but it wasn't coming; he was too agitated.  Bruno slammed a fist into 
Worth's stomach, which caused him to double over.  Worth fell to the 
ground again.

	Bruno lifted him up, and started to smack him several more times.  
Worth was knocked senseless.  The pain was incredible.  It was so 
intense that Worth couldn't think, couldn't react, couldn't do 
anything.  Finally Bruno lifted him and tossed him through the air.  
Worth landed outside the circle of horses on the road.

	"Hey, Bruno, don't throw out the trash, we ain't done with it 
yet!" one of them laughed.

	Worth groaned.  He was coherent enough to realize that if he was 
going to have any chance of escape, it would have to be now.  He 
unsteadily got to his feet, just as Bruno approached him, walking 
casually to his target.  He knew that Worth wasn't any threat now.

	Worth ached all over his body.  He tried to ignore the pain, as 
best he could.  He staggered, and Bruno smiled as he reached out for 
him.  Worth focused all his muscle power into his right arm, and he 
lunged forward, punching Bruno in the head with his fist.  "Ow!" the 
ruffian cried, falling to his knees.

	The warriors were stunned.  So, apparently, was Worth.  For a 
moment they stared at him.  He stared back.

	Worth realized that this would be an especially good time to make 
an expeditious exit from the situation.  He ran to the forest, limping 
at an unsteady gait.  The other warriors, realizing what was happening, 
started pouring out of the circle.

	The chase was on.  Worth dashed into the forest, wincing with 
every step. Bruno had done a really good job on him.  But desperation 
gave him the speed he needed as he dashed through the underbrush.  
Finally he could go no further and he collapsed, under a large bush.  
He could hear his pursuers, combing the area for him.

	"Where'd he go?" one of them cried.

	"See what he did to Bruno?" one of them chuckled, now stepping 
forward in front of the bush that Worth was hiding under.  "Bam!  Right 
in the kisser."

	Worth tried to breath as shallowly as he could.  He felt an 
incredible urge to gasp for air, but tried to hold it back.

	"Just wait till I find him," a familiar voice growled, coming 
closer.

	"Hey, hey!" came the voice of the leader.  "Time to go back.  I 
left Bob with the horses, but he can't hold off a hoard of goblins.  We 
got to get going!"

	"No!" Bruno cried.  "He's here, I know he's here!"

	Worth heard a sword being drawn.  He took a deep breath.

	Then the other voice said, "That's an order, mate.  We'll find 
some other amusing sport to make it up to you.  Chances are that the 
goblins will get our little rabbit, the way they've been pouring out of 
Beech."  There was a couple of nasty laughs, and then the footsteps 
grew fainter.

	Worth allowed himself a sigh of relief.  That had been a close 
one.  When he was sure that the bandits had gone, he got out of the 
bush.  Well, that taught him a lesson, he thought ruefully.  There were 
other villains in this world besides the Black Daggers and the goblins.

	Worth surveyed his wounds.  He felt incredibly sore, and he had 
bruises over most of his body.  But, incredibly, it didn't seem like he 
had broken anything.  Well, at least he could walk.  He stepped a few 
feet....

	and collapsed, just a few feet out of the bush.  He was 
exhausted.  He crawled back inside, and fell unconscious, oblivious to 
the consequences.



	When Worth awoke the next morning, he saw two eyes staring at 
him.

  	They were large, brown, curious eyes.  Only inches from his own.  
At ground level.  Worth almost jumped, until he saw it was a rabbit, 
curiously staring at him.  Worth suddenly remembered that he was 
hungry; he made a grab for the rabbit, but it darted away, scampering 
in the underbrush.

	Worth groaned, slowly getting up.  His entire body felt sore.  
Even walking felt painful.  Bruno had done a good job on his legs too.  
Worth wish he could have used his magic against the thug.  What had 
happened?  Evidently the magic didn't flow to him when he was 
distracted or fearful.

	"Damn!  If only I had a sword," Worth swore.  He was no 
swordsman, but at least he could have taken a stab at defending 
himself.

	But, more immediately, he had no food, and he hadn't eaten since 
yesterday.  Hunger drove him back to the road.  He kept telling himself 
it was possible that he would encounter someone, a good samaritan, 
perhaps, who would help him out.  Worth had briefly considered using 
his magic to try to hunt for food, but he realized that in the shape he 
was in he wasn't likely to catch anything faster than a worm.

	Worth walked along the road.  How long had Lore said it was to 
Maple?  Three days?  Four?  Worth couldn't remember.  He continued 
walking.

	About mid-morning he heard a scampering on the road.  In the 
distance he saw a horse and buggy rolling slowly down the road.  Worth 
got out of sight.  He held a small stick in his hand.  It wasn't much, 
but it was better than nothing.

	The travelers went by.  They were a small caravan, but what was 
most interesting to Worth were the riders.  They were small.  Smaller 
than goblins, in fact; and less than four feet tall.  And they didn't 
look like goblins; they looked like small, old bald men.  Like little 
gnomes, if anything.  Worth battled with himself what to do.  Hunger 
won out over caution and he hobbled out on the road, calling to them.

	They halted, slowly reversing their buggy.  The little men stared 
at him curiously.

	"Hello," said Worth.  He realized he must look a mess.  "I was 
wondering if-"

	"Like to buy something?" came a tiny voice.  The side of the 
caravan opened and Worth saw enormous stocks of provisions, drinks, and 
assorted kinds of food.  There were piles of strips of beef , and 
loaves of fresh bread, and kegs of assorted drinks, and many other 
things.

	"Would I like...."  Poor Worth was nearly delirious.  "Oh 
travellers, pity me, I am a poor man, caught by bandits, nearly killed-
"

	"What would you like?" said a gnome.

	"Anything!  Anything edible!  Anything you can spare!" Worth 
cried.

	The gnome took out a few strips of beef, holding it before Worth.

	"Oh thank you, thank you," said Worth, reaching for them.

	But the gnome pulled them back.  "Twenty gold pieces."

	'What?" said Worth, not believing his ears.

	"Twenty gold.  Not got it, no eat, no meat."

	"Why, listen you..." Worth growled, brandishing his stick.

	Seven sets of short swords simultaneously unsheathed themselves.

	"Ok," said Worth, immediately pulling back.  "It's ok.  You've 
made your point.  But listen, guys, I'm really down on my luck.  Can't 
you give me a break?  Even a small one?"  Worth intended no pun.

	The gnomes conferred among themselves, whispering to each other 
without taking their eyes off Worth.  Maybe they would take pity on 
him.  Maybe they would give him a small scrap of food.  They seemed to 
be conferring long enough; that, at least, seemed a hopeful sign.  
Finally, one turned to Worth and said, "19 gold pieces."

	"Aaagghhh!" Worth cried.  "Get out of here!  Go on, go on, off 
with you!"  He brandished his stick for effect.

	The gnomes calmly mounted their buggy and headed off.

	"Get away!  Go!" Worth shrieked after them.  In the distance he 
heard a tittering laughter that infuriated him.

	Worth, thinking nasty thoughts, headed back into the forest.  He 
didn't need them.  He would survive on his own.  He had survived New 
York City, didn't he?  And that was the most dangerous place in.... 
well, ok, that wasn't much of a boast now.

	Hey, wasn't tree bark supposed to be edible?  By now Worth's 
definition of edible had grown very flexible.  He hadn't eaten for a 
day, and he had been poorly fed over the course of the past several 
days.  Worth eyed the peeling bark of a tree.  He pulled some of it 
off, and put it into his mouth.

	Ptah! He spit it out.  It was terrible, like eating cardboard.  
He looked around at wild plants.  Should he give them a try?  They 
could be poisonous, he considered.

	Hey, why couldn't he use his magic to create food?  Sure, it 
should be possible, right?

	Worth sat down, with his back to a tree, and concentated.  
Despite his pain, the magic came to him.  Good, good.  Worth thought 
about a cooked chicken leg, sitting right in front of him.  He 
concentrated... concentrated... the air in front of him vibrated... and 
then it failed.  The power left him.  Swell.

	Maybe it was more difficult to create objects, Worth reflected.  
As he was mulling it over a rabbit hopped up to him, and looked him 
over.  Worth stood very still.  One bolt could do the rabbit in.  He 
tried to summon his magic... and he tried... and he tried... and it 
just didn't come.  Maybe he simply was too tired.  The rabbit hopped 
away as Worth feebly waved goodbye.

	Worth returned to the road.  Due to his weakened condition, he 
wasn't making very good time, so he decided to walk directly on the 
road instead.  Even on the unpaved track the best he could do was a 
slow and unsteady stagger.  He knew the risks of taking the road, but 
Worth didn't feel strong enough to bumble about in the forest.  At 
times he stumbled, and fell, or just collapsed from fatigue.

	But he always kept getting up, always kept going.  "Must get to 
Maple," he kept telling himself.  "Must get to Maple," he would say.  
He was getting hot now, and his forehead felt like it was burning up.  
He was sweating quite a lot, more than he had in the swamp.  But he 
kept going.  He wandered about like this, until about six o'clock, when 
the sun was starting to fade.  Then he was falling, falling, and he 
could not get up.

	He sat there, on the road, for some time, trying to force himself 
to get moving again, or at least to crawl off the road in favor of the 
forest cover.   But Worth's limbs were so worn, and he felt so 
fatigued, that he simply couldn't move.  And he felt very hot, very 
lightheaded.

	Suddenly he heard footsteps.  Worth forced himself to raise his 
head.  There was someone, coming down the road.  Worth struggled to get 
up.  With the added urgency he managed to stagger up, but then he fell 
again.  He started to head for the forest at a crawl, but then he 
looked back, and he knew it was too late.  He had been noticed.  Worth 
saw a single robed figure, with a hood over his face.  When he noticed 
Worth's form he walked over to the side of the road where Worth was, 
approaching him slowly.  Worth could dimly see that he carried a stick 
of some sort.

	"Come no farther!" Worth cried.  But it came out as a croak.

	Still, the stranger halted, but only eight feet away.  "Are you 
in need of assistance?" the stranger asked.  He held his stick in one 
hand, with a strong and steady grip.

	"Yes," said Worth.  There was no way he could deny it.  "Who are 
you?"

	"A friend, perhaps," said the stranger.  "But more to the point, 
who are you?"

	Worth's vision started to go hazy.  He knew he was on the point 
of collapsing again.  "Help," he said, his head falling back.  



	It was evening.  Worth's eyes slowly fixed into focus.  He was 
staring at a stick of wood on the ground, which was slowly glowing.  
For a moment he thought he was back with Lore.

	"Lore?" said Worth uncertainly.  He found himself lying down, 
with his head propped up against a fallen log.  He looked to his left.  
He had obviously been dragged off the road, and could no longer see it.  
He turned to his right.  And saw the hooded individual, staring at him.

	"No," said the man.  "Here, drink this."   He handed Worth a 
small flask with leaves brewing in it.  Worth nearly scorched his lips 
on it.

	"Careful, it's hot," said the man.

	Worth sipped some down.  It tasted like mint.  He handed the 
flask back to the man.  "Who are you?" he slowly said.

	"As I said, a friend.  But the roads are most dangerous, 
especially nowadays, and the one in need should be the first to 
identify himself, don't you think?"

	Worth nodded.  It was obvious that the fellow meant him no harm.  
No immediate harm, that is.  If he wanted to, he could have throttled 
Worth while he was unconscious.  Still, if this was one of the agents 
of the Black Daggers, trying to find out who he was.... no, Worth 
doubted they would resort to such subtle means.

	The stranger saw those thoughts playing out on his face.  "Come 
come, so long to think over a name?  There were no bruises on your 
face, so your mind is not harmed.  I have tended your fever, and it is 
much reduced."

	Of course!  He had had a fever. That's why his mind was so 
sluggish.  The beating hadn't helped either.  "Worth," said Worth.  "My 
name is Worth."

	"Where are you from, Worth?"

	"Uhhh...." That was a difficult one to explain.  "Far away."

	"Hm," said the stranger.  "Would you mind telling me where?"

	"Could I see your face?" said Worth.  "I always like to see who 
I'm talking to."  He felt a little of his old self returning, and he 
suddenly felt more cautious.  This fellow might not be aligned with the 
Black Daggers, but that didn't mean he was on Worth's side.  As Worth 
had learned quickly enough, there was only one person totally on 
Worth's side in all of Koo; but unfortunately, he was lying on a log 
and not very able to help himself at the moment.

	The stranger pulled back his hood.  Worth saw that he was hiding 
nothing hideous.  He was a cleancut young man, in his early 30's, 
perhaps, with straight hair combed to the sides.  "Is that better?" he 
smiled.

	"Yes," said Worth.  He wondered how much he should tell this 
fellow.  It would quickly become obvious that he wasn't from around 
here. "I come from a far away land... a place called New York City."

	"New York City.  Hmm.... I have not heard of it.  What is this 
place near?"

	"Newark, mostly," said Worth.

	"I have made foreign geography a pet study of mine.  I have no 
knowledge of this Newark that you speak of.  You must indeed have come 
from far lands," said the stranger.  He looked Worth in the eyes.  
Worth stared back at him, meeting his glance.  They locked stares for a 
moment, and then the stranger smiled again.  "I believe you are telling 
the truth, Worth of New York City.  But what were you doing on the 
road?"

	"Running away from militant goblins, Black Daggers, and assorted 
bandits," said Worth.  "Unfortunately, the bandits caught up with me."

	 The stranger's eyebrows lifted when he mentioned the Black 
Daggers.  But all he said was, "I see.  Where were you headed?"

	"Maple," said Worth.  "I am on the road to Maple to see someone."

	"Maple?  Maple is to the Northwest."

	"So?  Doesn't this road go Northwest?"

	"Well, it goes North, if you're heading back to Beech.  But in 
the direction you were going you were heading nearly straight to the 
south."

	Worth groaned.  "Oh, not again!  I'll never get there!"  He felt 
dejected.

	"Don't feel too badly; you've done better than some in Beech.  
Some didn't get out in time, you know."

	"I know," said Worth, nodding.  Then he saw he had been tested.  
The fellow now knew that he had been in Beech.

	"But who were you going to see in Maple?  You mentioned someone?"

	Worth took a deep breath.  There was no reason not to tell.  "I'm 
looking for someone named Palmer.  Are you from that region?  Have you 
ever heard of him?"

	"Indeed I have," said the man, nodding his head.  "That is my 
name."


Chapter V:  Palmer



	"You can't be serious," said Worth.  This must be a con man.  The 
chances of this being the very man he had been sent out to seek were 
incredibly small.

	"Don't be alarmed!" said Palmer.  "I assure you if I were a rogue 
there is little you could do about it in any event.  You are still 
tired and weak.  But yes, I am Palmer, and I am equally curious who has 
sent you to me and for what purpose."

	Worth sighed.  He couldn't really ask for some proof that this 
fellow was Palmer; he didn't know anything about the real Palmer.  Only 
that Lore had said he would protect him.  Wait a minute... Worth stared 
at the glowing stick of wood on the ground.  And then he remembered the 
staff that Palmer carried.  This was a wizard!  A fellow wizard friend 
of Lore!  It all made sense.

	"Lore sent me," said Worth happily.

	"Who?" said Palmer, making a face.

	 A cold fear gripped Worth.  Wouldn't the real Palmer know of 
Lore?  "Lore.  Lore.  Surely you must have known Lore?" said Worth.

	"I do not know this Lore you speak of," said Palmer.

	"He's... he was a wizard, like yourself.  He wore robes, like 
you, had a staff... a long beard, was a little taller than you...."

	"I do not know him," said Palmer.  "Was he a skilled wizard?"

	"He was, he was," said Worth, growing thoughtful.  He thought of 
that final battle, of Lore pitted against all the Black Daggers and 
goblins.

	"You say he was, in a past tense.  What happened to him?  Is he 
perished?"

	Worth nodded.  "I think so.  He distracted the enemy to save me.  
The Black Daggers-"

	"Yes, you mentioned them before.  Please tell me the whole story, 
from the beginning."

	Worth told Palmer everything, from the attack in the bar 
association to his collapse on the road.  Palmer clearly had difficult 
believing that Worth was from another world, until Worth, in a stroke 
of brilliance, showed him his watch and wallet.

	"You see, that's my VISA card.  I get credit with that."

	"That is somewhat akin to a merchant's note?"

	"Yes, yes."

	Palmer paused for a moment.  "I believe your story, Worth 
Rodgers, though it is fair to say that I am the only person in the 
whole of the Lower Threstles who would.  But even I, who have studied 
the arts of magic long and hard, did not know it was possible to travel 
to other worlds.  But I am a wizard, as I have stated.  I have also 
learned that there is much we cannot do that is yet possible."

	"Then can you send me back?" said Worth eagerly.  Despite Lore's 
warnings, he still wanted to return.

	"I am sorry, I do not possess that capability.  Nor do I know 
anyone who does.  It is my guess that only the mightiest of wizards 
could attempt such a feat.  And yet I thought I knew them all by 
reputation.  Oren, Lit, Whyse...." he called off several more names.  
"Are you certain that this Lore used no other name?  Wizards commonly 
operate under several different names."

	Worth shook his head.  "Not that I heard."

	"Hm...."

	"If he didn't know you, why would he send me to you?"

	"Perhaps he had no other acquaintances here.  Or perhaps he knew 
that I was the only wizard of any caliber active in the fight against 
the fell captain.  I too am battling to counter the evil one.  Our 
meeting was not so coincidental as you might think.  I was keeping a 
careful eye on the enemy, tracking their progress.  I arrived in Beech 
too late, but saw the pillaging afterwards.  I was on the outskirts of 
Beech yesterday when I saw the great flashes, and the loud sounds.  I 
thought I would scout about to the south...  and then I came upon you."

	"Yeah," said Worth.  "It was such a waste.  About Lore, I mean.  
He risked his life to go in there and look at the records.  He said he 
saw something that would help defeat Arnagon."

	"What?  You did not tell me this!"

	"Didn't I?" said Worth.  "Sorry, my mind's clouded.  We found 
some document.  Talked about... what was it, Maytag rocks.  Says they 
can be useful against Arnagon."

	Palmer snapped his fingers.  "Do you mean the Maytig quarry?"

	"Don't know about a quarry, but yeah, think it was Maytig."

	"Hm... it would make sense.  That was where Arnagon was nearly 
defeated."  He turned to Worth.  "We must go to Maytig, and get some of 
these rocks."

	"Me?  I'm still on the sick list, remember?"

	"By tomorrow you will be able to walk.  I will continue and 
intensify your training.  If you are as powerful as Lore and Arnagon 
believe, you can be an asset in our fight."

	"Whoa!" said Worth.  "I didn't sign on for this fight."

	"Worth, there is no option," said Palmer softly.  "There is 
nowhere you will be safe, not even in Maple.  The shadow is rising 
again, and none can be safe."  He paused.  "I must extinguish this 
stick.  Even though there is a hill between us and the road, it is 
possible that a small reflective glow can be seen.  But do not worry; I 
will be on guard.  Sleep."

	"Don't you wizards ever need to sleep?" Worth grumbled.

	"On occasion," Palmer smiled.  "Now sleep."



	The following morning Worth got up and stretched experimentally.  
The whole of his body felt sore.  But his fever was gone, and he could 
walk nearly unimpeded.  Most importantly he felt his strength coming 
back.  Palmer was pleased to see his progress.

	"Good!  Then we will spend an hour beginning the training before 
we start."  He told Worth to relax, and to summon his magic.  It was 
kind of odd, the combination of relaxing and concentrating needed to 
summon the magic, but Worth felt he was getting the hang of it.  The 
magic came.

	"Shoot that rock," said Palmer.  It shouldn't be possible.  No 
one could use magic without a staff.

	Worth zapped it with a bolt of blue.   Palmer gasped.  Worth did 
have a tremendous ability!  That part of his story, at least, was 
certainly true.  Palmer picked up the rock, and tossed it a good twenty 
feet away.  "Again."

	Worth aimed, but he missed.  He aimed again, and this time he hit 
it.  But he was becoming fatigued.  "I'm getting tired."

	"The way you increase endurance is by practicing," said Palmer.  
"But we can stop, once you do one small thing for me.  Hit that stone, 
the one next to your foot."

	"That one?  Sure, that's easy," said Worth, taking aim.

	"Wait!" said Palmer.  "I want you to punch a hole through it."  
It shouldn't be possible, even for one who could wield power without a 
staff.  But if what Worth was saying was true, that he had only started 
practice several days ago, then he must have an enormous innate power 
to match his ability.  Normally it took at least two years to reach the 
stage that Worth had.  And he did it without a staff!  Palmer still 
marvelled at that.  But he tried not to show how stunned he was.

	Worth prepared himself for another practice attempt.  "Ok, I'll 
try."  He pointed at the rock, and cut loose, with his full magical 
power.

	He burned a hole clear through the rock.

	Palmer's mouth dropped open.

	"Good, huh?" said Worth, not realizing that he had done something 
extraordinary, even for a wizard.

	Palmer nodded silently.

	They started walking.  Worth found his strength quickly 
recovering.  Palmer was right; he was building up endurance with his 
new magical ability.

	They walked along the road but not on it.  Palmer told Worth that 
the road would take them south, to the Battle Plain.  Beyond the Battle 
Plain was a narrow river called the Dalias.  And a little beyond that 
was the Maytig quarry.  Worth took in the names calmly enough.  He 
didn't know anything about these places; for all he knew, they were 
just geographical terms.

 	Worth was just glad to have a companion again.  No longer would 
he have to fend for himself.  And with some additional training perhaps 
he could start to fend for himself.  Worth realized that he was 
learning very quickly.  If he could have launched energy bolts that 
well the day before, those highwaymen would never have stood a chance.

	They walked south without incident, stopping for lunch at the 
side of the road.  After they had eaten and rested a bit, Worth noticed 
Palmer inspecting a nearby tree.

	"What's so interesting?" said Worth.

	"I'm not sure," said Palmer.  "It's a Undulas.... but it just 
might serve.  Yes, even unenchanted, it just might."  He drew a sword 
from a scabbard hidden in his robes.  In one cut he chopped off a thick 
branch.  Another cut removed the extraneous material on the other end.  
He handed the result to Worth.  "Congratulations, Worth.  You have just 
joined the ranks of the wizardry."

	"A staff," said Worth, looking delighted.  "Is it that simple to 
make?"

	"No.  Normally the wood is carefully prepared and enchanted.  And 
normally I would also look for different kinds of wood, usually 
Fuldulas or Rutewas.  But it is said that Nophrin, in his time of need, 
fashioned a staff out of Undulas, and used it to beat the Shakalas 
hoardes from the north, so maybe it will serve you as well as it did 
him.  It is known for some special properties, even in its raw, 
untreated form, and it should serve to even further magnify and focus 
your powers.  To be honest, Worth, most wizards can't even function 
without a staff.  That's why you're so unusual.  I can see now why 
Arnagon is so desperate to alter you."

	"Alter me," said Worth, shivering.  Lore had mentioned that 
before, and he still didn't like the sound of that.  Worth felt out his 
magic.  "I'm still kind of drained from this morning."

	"Then we'll wait until the evening to practice again. In the 
meantime, drop your staff and take this."  'This' was an ordinary stick 
of wood that Palmer had found on the ground.

	"What am I going to do with this?" said Worth, picking it up as 
he lay his staff on the ground.

	"Fight me," said Palmer, drawing his sword.

	"Hardly sporting," said Worth.

	"It's only practice."

	Palmer taught Worth several basic moves--the parry, the thrust, 
the slash.  It wasn't very difficult to learn, and Worth did have a 
natural dexterity, sharpened by his years of karate practice.  At the 
exercise continued Worth got quicker and quicker, until at the end 
Worth softly parried an attack from Palmer and lunged forward, striking 
only two inches away from Palmer's chest.

	"Very good, very good," said Palmer.  "You are a fast learner, in 
very many ways.  But come, we have a long road ahead of us, and we must 
not tire ourselves out!  Pick up your staff, and let us be on our way!"

	They took the long road south without seeing anyone for some 
time.  The countryside seemed deserted.  But, in midafternoon, they 
heard the sounds of horses approaching.  They quickly got off the road, 
and hid behind trees.

	Four men on horseback came down the lane, from the direction they 
had come.  Immediately a feeling of dread grabbed Worth.  He could tell 
who they were, by their trademark black leather armor.  The Black 
Daggers.  Worth had an overwhelming urge to run, and started to take a 
step back.  But Palmer put a grip on his shoulder, and Worth stood 
still, peering out from behind the tree.

	The riders slowly rode by, and down the track.

	After they had gone, Worth wondered, "I thought they could track 
me."

	"Maybe they can't, not perfectly," said Palmer.  "Did you notice 
that Nayorshoran was not with them?"

	"Yes," said Worth.  Evidently Palmer knew of Nay as well.

	"Anyway, we should be on our way."

	"But they're going the same direction we are," said Worth.

	"Worth, I very much imaging that there are more than four Black 
Daggers in the Lower Threstles.  We are not safe anywhere.  Come, let 
us go on.  In the evening we will intensify our swordfighting and 
magical practice."

	A thought occurred to Worth.  "Why do I need to know swordplay if 
I have magic?"

	"Even you must use your magic sparingly, my friend," said Palmer.  
"Even with endurance, it gets tiring after a time.  Better to save it 
for when you really need it."

	They continued walking along the road.  "Tell me more about the 
bad chaos, and the fell captain," said Worth.

	Palmer sighed.  "I do not know very much about it, though perhaps 
more than most.  Much knowledge was lost after the bad chaos."

	"Oh?  Lore seemed to know a fair amount."

	Palmer raised his eyebrows.  "Oh?  Did he ever mention Kiriender 
Tal?"

	"Kiriender Tal?  No, why do you ask?"

	"Kiriender Tal is the city of wizards.  It is on the east cost.  
The greatest of our kind dwell or visit there, from time to time.  It 
would seem possible, at least, that Lore was one of them."  Palmer took 
a breath. "But you asked me about the bad chaos.  I will tell you what 
I can.  Some time ago, centuries, perhaps, the evil one appeared.  He 
was known by many names, but he is most widely remembered today as 
Malkon.  He came from the north, but I do not know how he appeared, or 
where he came from.  All I know is that he was the bringer of terrible 
evil, and he was pushed back by the Bluphans."

	"And so ended the bad chaos," said Worth.

	"No," said Palmer, shaking his head.  "This was several hundred 
years before the bad chaos.  Now, where was I?  There was a strong 
stretch of peace in the region, for at least 200 years or so, as far as 
I'm able to determine.  During that time to Bluphans faded-"

	"The Bluphans?"

	"The people who defeated the Malkon.  Some of them resided in 
Kiriender Tal.  I was there, once, but I never took up the opportunity 
to read more about them.  Perhaps I should have.  In any event, it is 
said that they were a powerful race of people who were naturally 
magical, or otherwise masterful in the use of magic.  It is also said 
they were great fighters, but preferred the ways of peace, and during 
good times they had many festivals and happy ceremonies.  In any event, 
at one time they all disappeared.  Perhaps, in the process of disposing 
of Malkon, they were nearly destroyed.  Or perhaps they simply moved 
on, for reasons we do not know.  I cannot say more.  What I can say, 
with some certainty, is that some 230 years later, the bad chaos 
erupted."

	"They exploded out of the north, and it was as if they had spent 
the whole of 230 years building up their power."

	"They?"

	"Malkon.  And his minions.  For now he was accompanied by the 
fell captains, each a powerful entity in their own rights, and they 
swarmed over Koo.  I have read the historical records, and have found 
they were quite methodical.  Each fell captain claimed a section of Koo 
for his or her very own.  Most regions caved under the weight of the 
great evil.  Malkon himself destroyed the great capital of Anthur Sil, 
in the east, and razed much of Kiriender Tal.  That is why, Worth, if 
you ever make it to Kiriender Tal, you will notice that few of its 
buildings are older than the half millenium mark."

	"So these guys came in and took over.  Go on, go on."

	"Worth!  You make it sound like little more than a change of 
management!" said Palmer.  "Whole regions of the planet were despoiled.  
Hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, were killed, and many more 
enslaved.  All the beauty, all the art, all the greatness that had been 
painfully and lovingly built over the years, destroyed.  As much of it 
as the  fell captains could get their hands on."

	"So how were they ever defeated?"

	Palmer shook his head.  "I am not a historian.  I do not know.  
All I can say is how one particular fell captain, Arnagon, was defeated 
in the Lower Threstles.  Thanadil, as it was known back then, was 
nearly entirely conquored by the fell captain.  He held court in the 
ruins of Kalbard, though he also had a castle of his own.  Only a small 
portion in the southwest corner of the realm was untouched by his 
influence.  This is where the remnants of the armed forces gathered.  
There were troops of local militias, I suppose, and a number of 
survivors from the Wayfarer's confederation, so it is told.  It is said 
that few to none of the imperial garrison survived, so I do not think 
they were a factor in the counterstrike.  Wizards were being hunted 
down with particularly keen zeal by Arnagon's minions, but many had 
survived, and they too made their way to the meeting point."

	"Then the forces reorganized and attacked Arnagon's forces.  They 
fought his troops on the Battle Plain, pushing them south, always 
south.  I remember vaguely reading about some incident at Maytig, but 
am uncertain as to its historical importance.  Evidently the fell 
captain was nearly defeated there.  What I do know is that he was 
pushed back, to his castle.  He attempted to get help from the other 
fell captains, but none came, for people across all lands were by now 
resisting the bad chaos.  Our forces cornered him in his foul retreat 
and defeated him."

	"One thing I don't understand," said Worth.  "What does that 
mean, defeated?"

	Palmer sighed.  "Worth, Arnagon is a fell captain.  He is made of 
the most... unusual magical stuff.  He takes a physical form, and he 
can be defeated, but I am not certain whether he can be permanently 
destroyed."

	"And another point.  If your armies had already been badly 
beaten, how did they, presumably in smaller numbers, manage to defeat 
Arnagon?  And what about the other fell captains?  Why didn't they come 
to his aide?"

	"I know not these answers, Worth Rodgers," said Palmer.  "Suffice 
to say that this is the only fell captain who has been reported to 
return.  Indeed, it could be much worse; after all, Malkon has not 
returned, only one of his fell captains.  But we suffered much ills 
during the bad chaos, and we may not be up to this new challenge."

	They continued walking until it grew dark.  "We are making good 
progress," said Palmer, when they stopped for dinner.  "The only 
problem is provisions.  I did not anticipate having to feed for two, 
nor the added length of my journey.  As a result I have enough 
provisions for three days, perhaps four.  I estimate that it will take 
us perhaps four days to reach Maytig.  Or perhaps more."

	Worth suddenly looked concerned.

	"We will not starve," said Palmer.  "I am an able hunter.  But 
having to stop to hunt for food will slow our progress.  Still, perhaps 
we will be able to purchase food along the way."

	"Yeah, I know a bunch of gnomes who sell a whole lot of it," said 
Worth, recalling his humiliating experience of the day before.

	It took another day to reach the end of the road.  During every 
break Palmer drilled Worth in swordfighting and magical practice.  It 
would take some time for Worth to become a skilled swordsman.  And yet 
Worth was educated in at least the rudiments of swordfighting.  And he 
did have a natural dexterity.  He might be able to put up a reasonable 
defense, assuming he got a sword.  Somehow, Palmer would have to get 
Worth a sword.

	As for Worth's magical abilities, they were progressing at an 
even greater speed.  Using the staff, Worth's magical bursts had become 
even more powerful.  In strength, at least, he now exceeded Palmer, who 
prided himself on being a moderately powerful wizard.  Palmer could see 
that Worth had enormous innate ability.  But he wasn't skilled in 
channeling it.  Sometimes his powers would fade at inconvenient times.  
And Worth wasn't skilled in the subtle applications of his power.  He 
could shoot streams of energy, and he could push or pull objects, but 
there was little else he was capable of.  

	Palmer tried to teach Worth how to camoflague himself.  But 
somehow Worth couldn't seem to visualize it in his mind.  Everytime he 
tried to create a field around himself, he just couldn't seem to get it 
to mesh with his natural surroundings.  He still had a lot to learn.

	After a time, Palmer and Worth passed over a hill and found 
themselves at the end of the road.   Worth was surprised.  "What, it 
just stops here, in nowhere's ville?"  Beyond the road was a long 
field, that went beyond eyesight.

	"Work on it was never completed.  Originally there was to be a 
settlement in the area, but troubled times...." Palmer let his voice 
trail off.  "We are now about to enter the Battle Plain.  With any luck 
we should traverse it in a few days, assuming we don't have an 
encounter."

	"What do you mean, an encounter?"

	"Unfortunately, there have been reports of goblins mustering in 
the Battle Plain.  And there is very little terrain to hide in."

	"Is there another way of going to Maytag?"

	"Maytig.  Yes, but going around would cost us several extra days.  
Even if we had the rations for it, there are other troubles we might 
encounter.  I think as long as we see them before they see us we won't 
run into any troubles.  I can hide the both of us with a camoflague 
spell."

	They walked to the very end of the road.  Beyond that was a hill, 
sloping down.  Over it they could see a long, long plain of grasslands 
and tall weeds.  Suddenly, they spotted movement on the plain, coming 
up, towards them.

	"Get down!" said Palmer, pushing Worth to the ground.

	"Who are they?" said Worth, peering at the approaching dots.

	"I'm Not sure," said Palmer, his face grave.

	"Should you activate your camoflague spell?  Or should we go back 
to the forest and hide?" said Worth.

	"Yes, it might be advisable to take cover," said Palmer.

	They went back to the side of the road and concealed themselves 
behind a tall ridge in the land.  The strangers were some distance 
away, so it was good quarter hour before they slowly made their way 
onto the road.

	It was a small caravan.  One that Worth immediately recognized.

	"The gnomes!" he hissed, shaking his fist.

	It was the gnomes.  They stopped when they saw Worth and Palmer 
come onto the road.

	"Welcome!" said a pipsqueak voice of one of the gnomes.  "Like to 
buy something?  Food?"

	Worth rolled his eyes.

	Palmer considered.  They had enough provisions for several days 
yet, but he had some money, and they might well run short off food in 
the journey ahead.  But Palmer also knew of the gnomes' exhorbitant 
prices.  "No thanks," he said.  He and Worth started to depart.

	"Nothing?  Not even a weapon, a sword, perhaps?" said the gnome.

	Palmer and Worth stopped.  Worth did indeed need a weapon.  

	The gnome showed them a gleaming long sword.  "Fast and strong, 
it will dispatch your enemies."

	"How much?" said Palmer, opening his bag of coins.

	"500 gold pieces," said the gnome.

	Worth had no idea what the appropriate price of a sword was, but 
he could tell by the shocked expression on Palmer's face that it wasn't 
500 gold.  "Come on, Worth," said Palmer, heading down the road.

	"Best deal you'll ever find," came the pipsqueak voice. 

	"Yeah, yeah, yeah," grumbled Worth.  The sound of laugher 
resonated from behind him.



	They didn't see anyone during their first day on the plain.  But 
Worth felt nervous.  It was a low, empty grassland.  One could be seen 
for miles in any direction.  Palmer told him that the foilage would 
become more dense as they traversed the land, but he too was worried.  
That evening they lit no fire, and they maintained a continuous watch 
during the night.  During their breaks they continued to train, 
especially in the use of a sword.

	"This is useless," said Worth, parrying a swordthrust by Palmer 
with a stick.  "I don't even have a weapon."

	"We will get you one at the first opportunity, I promise," said 
Palmer.

	"Can't you just create one, using magic?" Worth inquired.

	Palmer shook his head.  "It's not that easy.  One of the most 
challenging things to do with magic is to attempt to create solid 
objects, solid objects of any kind.  Creating specific sorts of objects 
is extremely difficult, and I know of few who could do it--Karruch, or 
Whyse, perhaps."

	"I'll bet Lore could have done it," said Worth.

	"Yes... Lore.   It is still odd that I have not heard of him.  We 
in the Lower Threstles are a bit isolated from the major regions, but I 
thought I had heard of all the major spell casters.  Certainly I 
learned of the most prominent ones when I visited Kiriender Tal... 
although that was some years ago.  Things may have changed.  What did 
you say this Lore looked like again?"

	"Let's see... he was tall, had a long brown and white beard, wore 
robes...."

	Palmer frowned.  "That could be one of several.  It could even be 
Whyse of the Wind...."

	"Who?"

	"Whyse of the Wind."

	"Whyse of the Wind?"  What kind of name was that?

	"No.  Not Whyse."

	"What?"

	"It's pronounced Whyse, like Wize, not Weiss."

	"Oh," said Worth.  "Now that I know how to pronounce his name, of 
what relevance is it?"

	Palmer took a restraining breath.  "I had heard rumors that he, 
Whyse, was coming to assist us in our time of need.  It was thought 
that he was one of the most powerful of the mages," said Palmer, 
looking thoughtful.  "But even if it was him, you say he is no more?"

	"I've told you all I know," said Worth.  That question bothered 
him as well.  He assumed that Lore was dead, but he wasn't certain.  He 
could never be certain.

	The next day they continued their march.  They soon found 
themselves entering an area of the plain populated by tall, dense weed 
thickets, some as tall as Worth.  Narrow paths winded through the 
plants.

	"I don't like this," said Palmer.  He looked at footprints in the 
ground.

	"What do you see?"

	"Goblins.  And fairly recent too.  They have come this way," said 
Palmer.

	Worth felt a chill go down his spine.  "Is there any other way we 
can go?"

	"No.  We must go on," said Palmer.  He turned to Worth.  "But 
fear not.  You have in your companionship the most powerful mage in all 
of the Lower Threstles.  I speak with authority because I am the only 
one, to my knowledge, in the Lower Threstles.  And you, Worth, should 
not discount your abilities.  You are now capable of buring a hole 
through the most fearful goblins warrior."

	"I know," said Worth.  "It's having to confront more than one 
that bothers me."  He started to feel most uncomfortable, and he eyed 
the tall weeds carefully, as if fearing a trap could be sprung upon 
them at any moment.  "You say that you're the only magic user in all of 
the Lower Threstles.  Is that because of the bad chaos?"

	Palmer nodded.  "When we regrouped our forces for the famed 
counterattack,  we summoned the greatest spell casters of the era, no 
less than several hundred of them."

	"Several hundred?  And you're the only one left?"

	"The only descendent left in the Lower Threstles," said Palmer.  
"But yes, our art nearly died out in our combatting of the bad chaos.  
Many of our number fell, and much of our knowledge and ability was 
lost.  The enemy, sensing where the danger to it was the greatest, 
sought out and destroyed as many spellcasters as it could.  As I told 
you before, the fighting was carried on here, in the Battle Plains.  
The fighting, I'm told, went on for weeks, as the two great forces 
pounded into each other like crashing rocks.  Each refused to yield.  
Finally Welnur, the greatest wizard of his line, turned the tide in 
favor of our armies.  How this was done, we do not know."

	"But we do know that the forces of the fell captain were driven 
back, and many perished. 

	"We went over this before, but I still don't understand.  If he 
was defeated, no less than 500 years ago, then what's he doing here?"

	Palmer shrugged.  "So little is known about the past, that it is 
not clear.  Was he truly destroyed?  Or merely weakened, and forced to 
flee?  How did the bad chaos start in the first place?  We do not have 
all the answers.  But what we do know is that several months ago the 
goblins started returning in numbers unseen in modern times, and that 
they have been mustering here on the Battle Plains, among other places.  
A little over a month ago the first Black Dagger was seen, though it 
took us some time to realize it for what it truly was.  After 500 
years, not many, save who studied the old texts, knew what a Black 
Dagger even looked like."

	"And now it has been heard that Arnagon, one of the most feared 
of the fell captains, has returned.   His forces have overrun Beech, 
and will not stop there, I think.  The whole of the Lower Thestles is 
in danger.  Certainly the neigboring villages are no longer safe, and I 
fear in time that even Maple will fall.  We can only be thankful that 
there are not reports of the fell captains returning in other lands."

	"Can the other lands send help?"

	Palmer shook his head.  "Most of our neighbors do not have armies 
like they once used to.  Some are reserving their own forces in case 
the other evils return.  And some feel they would profit, politically, 
from our fall."  His face grew grave.  "But as I have said, we heard 
word from Kiriender Tal, the city of wizards, that they were sending 
help.  Whyse of the Wind."

	"Only one wizard?  That's it?"

	"Whyse of the Wind is one of the greatest wizards alive," said 
Palmer simply.  "As I have told you there are very few left in 
existence.  Still, if this Lore was Whyse, and he has perished, that 
would be grave news."

	They continued walking.

	"Tell me about this Whyse of the Wind."

	"I don't know much about him," said Palmer.  "Save what I've 
heard.  When I went to Kiriender Tal he was not there, but he had quite 
a reputation.  They say he has travelled far and wide, and knows much, 
more than any one person may know.  It is said that he knows much about 
the old subjects.  It is also said that he actually experiments, 
attempting to create new spells, though I do not know if this is so.  
Though I must admit that your presence in Koo is very difficult to 
explain.  Perhaps Whyse, if it was Whyse you met, has discovered a 
method of travelling from planet to planet.  I do not know.  It is also 
said that his magical ability is very keen, though I think he is more 
known for his ability to see through a rock than to shoot one, I 
think."

	"What do you mean?  Clairvoyance?"

	"What?  No, I do not.  I meant that Whyse has a wisdom, an 
understanding, something that we all strive for but never quite 
achieve.  Whyse, I believe, may have come closest.  If you ever meet 
him, you will see."

	They walked down the paths for much of the morning.  As times 
Palmer would motion Worth to stop and stand very still, as if he were 
listening for something.  But Palmer would never tell Worth what he was 
listening for, or even if he heard anything.

	The terrain didn't inspire Worth very much; this was prime ambush 
country.  The tall weeds formed a wall around the narrow path they 
traversed, but Worth was acutely aware that it was more like a porous 
wall.  A bunch of goblins could jump out and stab them before either he 
or Palmer could react.  Worth kept a tight grip on his staff.  It was 
his only line of defense.

	Suddenly, Palmer cried "Stop!" with a loud voice, one that 
startled Worth so much that he immediately obeyed, in mid step.

	"Do not put that foot forward on the ground.  Move back, slowly," 
said Palmer.  Worth did as he was instructed, looking closely at the 
ground.  Now he could see what had triggered Palmer's concern.  There 
were little glints of metal beneath the weed covered path.

	Palmer looked about, searching for a common stick.  He picked one 
up, and gently began to clear the area of leaves and clutter.  Quickly 
it became apparent that some sort of steel base was beneath the 
surface.

	"What is it?" said Worth.

	"A trap," said Palmer.  "It springs closed on the leg, I imagine.  
See the steel teeth on the side?"

	Worth looked closely.  There were five inch ruts on either edge 
of the metal frame.  He shuddered.  That could have bit into his leg.  
"Thanks," he said.

	Palmer nodded.  "I am afraid for what this portends."

	"What?  More traps."

	"Not only that, Worth.  Traps must be tended.  I have seen 
footprints, and I have heard remote signs, but I am afraid we are 
approaching a goblin encampment.  We must move extremely cautiously 
now.  Keep well behind me, please."

	They moved forward, more slowly now.  Palmer spotted a second 
trap along the way, and they gingerly walked around it.  Shortly they 
reached a split in the path.  One branch went forward, but a bit to the 
left.  Another curved to the right.  Palmer studied the ground, 
considering.

	"One path, I guess, will lead to the goblin encampment.  The 
other, I hope, will go in another direction, perhaps bypassing the 
goblins altogether.  Unfortunately both have the prints of the goblins, 
and it is difficult to say which is the wiser path."  He seemed to 
consider the problem carefully in his mind.  Finally, he said, "I 
cannot decide.  And it is surely no good to stand here thinking about 
it; that would surely invite peril itself."

	Palmer looked up, as if he had been debating with himself, and he 
had only now arrived at a decision.  "Worth, I want you to remain here.  
If you hide a little off-path in the tall reeds I do not doubt you will 
be safe."

	"Where are you going?" said Worth.

	"I am going to scout ahead on the rightmost path.  I can go more 
quickly alone, and more easily cloak myself than you as well.  I must 
determine where this path goes.  I will only go ahead a short distance, 
and do not expect to be gone more than a half hour.  Do you agree?" he 
said, a little anxiously.  Palmer obviously felt a little guilty about 
leaving Worth alone.

	But Worth saw that it was for the best.  He did slow Palmer down.  
"Go.  I'll hide in the tall weeds, like you said."

	"I will be back shortly," said Palmer. He paused, considering 
whether to say something else.  "Worth, there is one thing I must tell 
you.  I fully expect to return.  But if I do not, I advise you to 
continue making south.  It is vital that one of us retreives the Maytig 
rocks.  Especially now that Whyse, our only hope, may be gone."  He 
departed, without looking back.

	Worth stepped off the path into the reeds.  They were very thick, 
and it was tough plodding even to traverse a few feet in.  But at least 
the plants should camoflague himself, Worth thought.  He could barely 
even see the path now, and he was only five feet off it.

	Then Worth had a disturbing thought:  had he disturbed the weeds 
to make it appear that someone had gone off the path here?  He trudged 
back to the path, and looked back.  No.  The weeds quickly restored 
themselves to their former position.  He made his way back to 
concealment.

	He sat there for some time.  He felt now as he did when Lore had 
left him in the swamp to scout ahead.  Lore had promised to return 
quickly too.  Worth shuddered as he recalled the Manor grounds.  That 
was one place he would not willingly returned to.  After this was all 
over, he wondered if he would have to return to the swamp to be send 
home.  But could he even get home anymore?  If Lore was dead, as seemed 
likely, could anyone else send him back?  This Arnagon obviously had 
the ability to return him home.  But Worth didn't think, from what he 
had heard of the fell captain, that he would be a charitable sort of 
fellow.

	Oh, to never see home again!  Worth missed New York City.  He 
missed the bagel shop on 52nd and 7th.  Worth would kill for a bagel 
right now, especially a piping hot one.  And he missed the bookstores, 
on fifth avenue.  And he missed the holiday displays, in the Macy's 
windows.  Worth even missed his job, a little.  There was a little 
thrill, working on those multi million dollar mergers.  The actual work 
on it, the researching of the relevant SEC rules, was a little dull, 
but it was always exciting to actually sign the papers and consumate 
the deal.

	Suddenly he heard a noise, and Worth fell silent.  There was a 
scuffling sound on the path.  Maybe Palmer was returning.

	The sounds grew louder in volume.  Crunch, crunch.

	It couldn't be Palmer, Worth realized.  For one thing, the sound 
was coming from the wrong direction, from the way he and Palmer had 
come.  And the sound was of multiple pairs of feet.

	Worth peered through the weeds.  He saw several goblins, dragging 
someone with a bag over his head.  A prisoner, obviously.

	"No, no!" the captive cried.

	"Ha ha ha," one of the goblins laughed.  "No need to complain, we 
haven't even started the fun yet.  Come along, don't drag your legs!  
You'd think you didn't want to come with us!"  And all the goblins 
chuckled.

	Worth's grip on his staff tightened as he saw the goblins 
dragging the helpless captive down the leftmost path.  The last thing 
he saw was the captive stumbling and falling, and the goblins kicking 
him to get up.  Worth winced.  He recalled how the redbeards had 
treated him on the road the other day.  He thought about how the 
goblins had massacred the people of Beech.

	No, they weren't going to get another victim, he declared.  Worth 
had become a lawyer to help the powerless.  His sense of justice simply 
wouldn't allow this to go on.  But what could he do?  Get himself 
captured, maybe.  Hey, he was supposed to be a great wizard, wasn't 
that so?  Well, he could just go in and rescue that fellow.

	And so angry was Worth that he didn't think about the fact that 
he was still basically untrained, poorly equipped, and only one man 
against many.  All he could think about was that poor man being 
tortured and killed by those hideous monsters.  When Palmer came back 
they would both go and rescue the man.  No, he couldn't wait for 
Palmer.  Palmer had already been gone for some time.  He might never 
come back in time to save the captive from being killed.

	But in his heart of hearts, Worth knew he was just making 
excuses; he really feared that Palmer, the voice of reason, might 
counsel Worth on the impossibility of rescuing the captive.  Well, 
Worth didn't want to hear about it.  He had been pushed around a lot in 
this world, and he felt a lot of sympathy for that poor captive.  He 
was going to rescue him, and that was that.

	Worth stepped out of the weeds and started down the leftmost 
path.

	It was a good thing that there weren't any other traps along the 
path, for Worth was going at a quickening pace, hurrying to catch up 
with the goblins.  He didn't want to lose them if the path branched 
again.

	As he went down the path he heard the beat of drums.  

	Boom boom!

	And they were getting louder.  Smoke billowed in the air.  

	Boom boom!

	Worth's heart was racing, but he forced himself to slow down.  He 
rounded a bend, and-

	Found himself looking into a goblin camp.

	The weeds had been cleared here, and there was a large open space 
where tents were pitched, fires were set, and goblins were roaming 
about.  Worth only got a glimpse of them, but he personally saw at 
least twenty of the cruel warriors, skulking around their campsite.  
Worth immediately jumped into a weed thicket, concealing himself.  He 
peered out, seeing the captive brought before a goblin, presumably 
their leader.  He was taller and better dressed than the others, and he 
was wearing a large gold necklace.  The bag was taken off the captive's 
head and the chief said something to the captive, which Worth could not 
hear.

	The captive answered, and the goblins laughed, hysterically.  
Then the goblin leader pointed to a tent and said, in a loud voice, 
"Take him away.  He will be the lunchtime entertainment!"  The goblins 
took him away.

	Worth surveyed the situation.  The captive had been taken to a 
tent on the far side of the encampment.  But, as luck would have it, it 
was on the edge of the boundry where the tall weeds began.  Worth could 
make his way over there by plodding through the tall weeds.  He started 
out.

	It was slow going.  Worth was creeping along in order to minimize 
the noise.  Every few feet he had to make his way to the edge of the 
reeds to peer out at the encampment, to make sure he was heading in the 
right direction.  But finally he reached the back of the tent that he 
thought the prisoner had been taken to.

	It was a small tent, guarded by a goblin sitting on the ground.  
There were no other goblins nearby, thankfully, and the view of the 
tent was obstructed by some of the other tents in the area.  But all it 
would take would be one shout for that single goblin to raise the 
others.

	Worth considered using his magic to send a blast that would 
puncture the goblin guard, through and through.  He didn't have any 
compunction against killing the wretched creature, but he thought the 
noise of his energy blast might arouse the others.  No, he would have 
to handle this more conventionally.

	The goblin sat outside the tent, picking the meat off the bone of 
an unidentified animal.  The meat wasn't cooked, but that didn't bother 
the goblin much, who consumed the red chunks with relish, making loud 
slurping sounds as he sucked the blood off the bone.

	"Psst," the goblin heard faintly.  So engrossed was he on his 
midday meal, that he paid no attention.

	"Psst!" came a louder sound.  This got the goblin's attention.  
It looked up, saw some rusting in the reeds.  The goblin dropped the 
chicken leg, and slowly drew its sword.

	"Who there?" he grunted.

	There was no answer, but the reeds continued to sway.  "Psst!" he 
heard again.

	Coming slowly, the goblin stepped up to the boundry with the 
reeds.  Cautiously, with one hand, he cleared away the reeds in front 
of his face.

	And saw a length of wood, coming smack towards his face.  The 
goblin hit the ground, without uttering a word.

	No one saw the goblin's body being dragged into the weeds.

	Worth slowly crept into the tent, one hand on his staff, the 
other on the goblin's short sword.  Well, he had finally found a weapon 
for himself.  And it hadn't cost anything either.

	The tent was empty, saved for the poor captive.  Relieved, Worth 
put down his staff, and started to cut the fellow loose.  The fellow 
was of medium height, and dressed rather well, concealing the fact that 
he had a bit of a belly.  When Worth had loosened his bonds and removed 
his gag, he said, "Thank you, oh thank you!"

	"Shh!" said Worth.  "Keep your voice down!  What's your name?"

	"I am Dulog, a knight of Maple and a personal emmissary of 
Corren, head of the council.  You will be rewarded, fair stranger, for-
"

	"We can get to that later," Worth hissed.  "Can you walk?"

	"Yes, yes, I think so," said Dulog.

	Good.  They could go through the reeds and cut their way back to 
the path, and hopefully link up with Palmer.  This would be easier than 
Worth thought.  He picked up his staff.  "Follow me, and be very 
quiet."

	They made their way back to the reeds without mishap.  They 
started the slow, circuitous walk back to the path.  Worth looked back.  
His pudgy companion was keeping up.  They had gotten about halfway 
there, by Worth's judgment, when they heard the drums start to beat 
loud.

	Boom boom boom.

	"What's happening?" Dulog whispered, leaning close to the edge of 
the reeds to peer at the camp.

	"Come on," Worth whispered, motioning him to continue.

	"Just a second," said Dulog, peering through the reeds.  
Suddenly, he slipped on the dry marsh floor, and fell, face forward, 
into the encampment.  In sight of about a dozen goblins.

	Worth saw what happened, heard the cries.  "Shit!" he cried, 
starting to run through the reeds.  There was no way he could save 
Dulog now; the best he could do would be to save himself.

	Dulog was quickly caught by the first wave of charging goblins.  
An alarm went up, and a swarm of goblins entered the reeds.  They could 
see that someone else was in the tall weeds by the movement of the 
plants caused by Worth's flight.

	"Shit!" Worth muttered, wishing he could camoflague himself.  Now 
would be a good time to have such a skill.

	But he didn't.  He ran desperately through the reeds, not going 
in any particular direction now, just trying to escape.  His first 
inkling that the goblins were encircling him came when he nearly ran 
into one, head on.  The goblin raised his sword, but Worth was quicker, 
slashing him on the side of the neck, running on as the goblin fell.

	But the goblins were organized, and tightening the noose on 
Worth.  Worth ran faster now, despite the difficulty of dashing through 
the thick reeds.  He pushed past a bunch of reeds... to find himself 
back at the encampment.  He had come nearly full circle.

	A bunch of goblins saw Worth, and started running towards him.  
Worth desperately ran for a path heading out of the camp.  There was 
only one goblin in the way, and he was apparently unarmed, a frail, 
older goblin, leaning on a cane.  Worth was preparing to raise his 
sword to slash him as he passed when the apparently frail goblin raised 
the cane and spoke a word.  

	Worth felt a vibration moving through the air, hitting him.  He 
fell to the ground, unable to move a muscle.  The goblins closed on 
him.

	He was captured.


Chapter VI Hospitality, Pleasant and Otherwise



	Worth could feel muscle control starting to return to his body.  
He felt himself able to move a little, even as he was dragged to the 
goblin chief by an armed escort.

	"This the one, chief," said a guard.  "Knocked out Urr, and 
killed Blatash."

	"Pig," spat the chief.  "Only I am permitted to take the lives of 
my men."  Anger flared in his eyes, and he looked as if he were going 
to strike Worth.  His claw-like fingers graced Worth's neck.  For a 
moment Worth thought he was going to rip out his windpipe.  But after a 
time the chief relaxed a bit, and fingered his gold necklace carefully.  
"What was he found caring?"

	"Besides one of our swords, only this," said a goblin, passing 
over Worth's staff.

	"We were told to watch out for spell casters," said the chief.  
He studied the rough staff, its unpolished finished with its roughly 
cut edges.  "This looks like no magical staff to me!  This looks like 
some fool's idea of a walking stick."  He took Worth's chin in his 
rough hands.  "Fool!  You thought you could get in here, and do as you 
please?  We are the Nalcar, the elite goblin regiment.  It was our 
division, hundreds of years ago in the great chaos, that slew the 
imperial soldiers and took Malaford!  We were the ones who slew the 
warriors, chased the cowardly, and enslaved the weak.  We rise again to 
serve the great Captain, and when the time comes, we will come back to 
devour your land and your towns!  Now, speak quickly, are you a magic 
user?"

	Worth thought quickly.  It seemed likely that if he said yes, 
that they were liable to spare him.  They would also give him no 
opportunity to escape, putting him under treble guard.  If he said no, 
there might be some delay before his execution, giving him a chance to 
escape.  It was a calculated risk, but.....

	"Answer!" the chief snarled.

	"No!" said Worth, through clenched teeth.

	"Bah!" said the chief, tossing Worth's staff through the air.  He 
watched it land, in a high arc, in the middle of the reeds.  Well, that 
was lost.  "Then we, not the Black Daggers, will take you.  Take him to 
the place!"

	Worth was dragged to the middle of the encampment, where a circle 
of goblins were gathering.  To the side he could see goblins sharpening 
their knives.  There would be no opportunity to escape here.  Worth 
realized he had given the wrong answer.  Wuups.

	And then he noticed the two poles, dug into the ground.  There 
were great gashes in the poles, as if someone had hacked on them.  
There were also bloodstains dotting the poles.  Many of them.  Worth 
had an unpleasant idea what was to come next.

	Dulog was uncerimoniously dumped by Worth.  "Hello," he said.  "I 
didn't get your name the last time we met."

	"Fool!" said Worth.  "You caused us to get captured."  He had 
sacrificed himself for this bumbling idiot.

	"No," said Dulog.  "You did the right and good thing, and for 
that you should be commended."

	Worth watched the goblins sharpening their swords, and he 
groaned.

	More and more goblins streamed over, until a large circle of them 
had formed around Worth and Dulog.  Escape was now totally impossible, 
unless he cared to fight through several hundred of them.  If only he 
could make himself invisible, or send forth a burst of energy that 
would destroy them all.  But Worth wasn't capable of either feats.  Or 
was he?

	The goblins started to beat drums, and they started to chant, and 
sing.



	Smash bash crumble kill!

	Smash bash crumble kill!

	Smash their bodies, beat their skulls!

	Crunch the villagers, take their lands!



	We are the Nalcar!

	We attack, we destroy, we take!

	Nothing stops us, nothing stands in our way!

	We win, we win, we take we take!



	Smash bash crumble kill!

	Smash bash crumble kill!

	Smash their bodies, beat their skulls!

	Crunch the villagers, take their lands!



	The Nalcar are best

	We beat them all!

	Nothing can stop us, nothing at all!



	Smash bash crumble kill!

	Smash bash crumble kill!

	Smash their bodies, beat their skulls!

	Crunch the villagers, take their lands!



	It was a grisly little song, and it gave Worth no comfort.  The 
goblins jumped up and down and clanged their weapons as they sang, and 
he felt intimidated to be surrounded by all these hostile creatures.  
As they surely intended.  They seemed to take great delight in yelling 
those verses, as they jumped up and down, clanging their weapons, and 
even after the song was over, the goblin MC had trouble calming them 
down.

	Meanwhile the goblins were also enjoying the spectacle of the 
captives; at least, they were getting full satisfaction from Dulog, who 
was cringing in fright, his teeth chattering.  After the last refrain 
the drums stopped beating, and the goblins calmed down and took their 
seats on the ground.

	"Looks like the pre-game show is over," Worth murmurred.  
Unfortunately he had a very good idea as to what the main event would 
be.  He watched  the goblin chief, accompanied by his bodyguards, march 
into the circle.  Worth tried to summon his magic.  It came readily.  
But what could he do with it?  Somehow, he just didn't think he had the 
ability to annhilate several hundred goblins in every direction.

	The leader gave a signal, and Worth and Dulog were lifted up, and 
brought to the poles.  Worth tried to resist, but his hands were tied 
behind his back, and there was little he could do.  He was tied to the 
pole by two thick ropes, one around his waist and one around his 
shoulders.  Dulog was similarly tied on his pole.  There would 
definitely be no escaping now.

	The goblin chief stamped his foot into the ground and gave a 
yell.  The goblins troopers returned the chant.  Two goblins who had 
been sharpening their swords looked up, and started to walk towards 
Worth and Dulog.

	Worth tried to struggle out of his bonds, but they were too 
tight.  There was nothing he could do.

	"Friend," said Dulog, who was tied up a few feet away on his own 
poll,  "You didn't even tell me your name.  May I know who attempted to 
do a good deed by me before we perish together?"

	"Shut up," said Worth, cursing, as he tried to free himself.

	The goblins, grinning, took their positions, one by each pole.  
Their swords were long and gleaming.  They stood, as if waiting for a 
signal.  Suddenly, everything was quiet.

	"Nalcar!" said the goblin chief, approaching the captives.  

	"Nalcar!" The goblins screamed back.

	The chief smiled, and then spoke in a loud, booming voice.  "We 
have before us two pitiful creatures who thought they could spy on us 
and report back to their scum.  They will pay for their arrogance with 
their blood!"

	The goblins cheered.

	The goblin chief approached Dulog.  "This one claims he is a high 
soldier.  We caught him trying to flee our forces.  What have you to 
say now, fierce soldier?"  His face, inches from Dulog's, was cruel, 
and mocking.

	The goblins laughed, not expecting an answer.

	But Dulog responded.  "You are evil, all of you, and... and...."  
he seemed at a loss for words.

	The goblin chief pretended to look shocked.  Then, darting up to 
Dulog, he slapped him in the face.  All the goblins laughed.

	Worth summoned his magic.  He thought about using it to try to 
free his ropes, but he didn't think he could direct the magical energy 
very precisely, especially without free hands.  But at least he could 
get the goblin chief.  He could direct a blast by eye that would fry 
that monster like a sizzling steak.  The magic flowed through Worth, 
giving him power.

	The goblin chief walked slowly to Worth.  "This one showed a 
modicum of bravery, attempting to get into our camp to rescue the 
speechless one.  But there is bravery, and there is stupidity, and it 
seems he is guilty of both if he thinks he can cross the Nalcar at 
will."

	The goblins cheered, and the chief grinned.  He was scoring 
political points at Worth's expense.  Worth braced himself, preparing 
to send a blast that would perforate the goblin chief with a nice big 
hole.

	The leader turned away from Worth, facing the goblin crowd.  The 
goblins with the long swords raised them, preparing for the final 
announcement.  "And now, according to the law-"

	"The law!" cried Worth.  All the magic drained away from him.  
Suddenly, he knew that wasn't the way to go anymore.  "Wait!" he cried 
again.

	The goblin chieftan, surprised, turned around.

	"You are preparing to kill us, according to the law.  I demand to 
know on what grounds."

	The goblin leader was silent.

	"You are going to kill us, according to your laws.  I demand to 
know the law we've been charged with violating," Worth repeated.

	"Psst," said Dulog.  "This isn't very dignified.  Better that you 
keep quiet, fellow."

	Worth ignored him, his attention fully on the chief.

	The chief turned to Worth, an odd expression on his face.  Maybe 
none of his captives had never asked him that question before.  For a 
moment he appeared at a loss for words.

	Then he said, "You are charged with... standing in our way!"

	There was a large laughter.

	"Have I been proven guilty?" said Worth.  "Has there been due 
process? Have I had a trial?"

	"You want a trial?" said the chief.  Worth couldn't tell whether 
he was intrigued by the idea, or simply confused by what Worth was 
saying.

	"The five trials," someone murmurred.  Then someone else said it.  
Soon half the audience was chanting, "The five trials!  The five 
trials!  The five trials!"

	The chief, seeing his followers were caught up with the idea, 
yelled, "The five trials!  You shall have them!"  He motioned for a 
guard to untie Worth from the pole.

	Worth was relieved at this change of circumstance, although he 
had a feeling he wasn't about to be immerced in courtroom procedure.

	"The intruder wants a trial," said the chief.  "We shall give him 
five!"  

	There was more laughter.  Worth stretched his legs as he eyed the 
laughing crowds.  Good.  Let them laugh.  At least now he had a chance.  
When the laughter died down the chief turned to Worth, who still had 
his hands tied behind his back.

	"I will explain to you, intruder, about our laws..." more 
laughter, "so you will know what is about to happen.  Whenever someone 
is put on trial, as you put it, they are tested!  To see if they are 
strong!  If they are strong, they survive!  If they survive, they 
live!"

	Worth wanted to ask what that had to do with guilt or innocence.  
Instead he asked a more immediate question.  "What happens if I win, if 
I win the five trials?"

	"Then you are free to go," said the goblin leader, with the wave 
of the hand.  Then he went up close to Worth and whispered, "But you 
would be the first."  And he watched Worth's unhappiness as he added, 
"You may have wished for the other way.  It would have been quicker."  
He moved away, gesturing for preparations to be made.  Dulog was untied 
from his pole and held to the side by several goblin guards.

	"Oh shit, what have I gotten myself into," said Worth.  He 
quickly found out when he saw the first "trial".  Four goblins, armed 
with spears, stood at a line not more than fifteen feet away from 
Worth.

	"Oh shit," said Worth again.  "Oh well, I used to be good at 
dodge ball, it's the same principal...  say, not that it would help, 
but I don't suppose you'd mind untying my hands?"

	The chief shook his head.  Worth nodded, for the first time, the 
goblin magic user standing by his side, watching astutely.

	"Let the game... the trial begin!" said the chief, clapping his 
hands.

	Worth took a deep breath, preparing to spring left and right.  
Suddenly two spears came flying at him.  One missed, but the other 
skimmed above his left shoulder, giving him a painful burn.  Worth 
staggered, trying to regain his balance, just as numbers three and four 
flew towards him.  Worth couldn't regain his balance, and he fell to 
the ground.

	Which was a good thing, since the two final spears flew above his 
head, landing with a thunk a few feet beyond him.

	The goblin leader snapped his fingers.  The goblin crowd looked 
disappointed.  Worth had passed his first test.  He was relieved, of 
course, but that feeling didn't last very long.  How would they try to 
kill him next?

	Worth was a little disappointed when he found out.  The second 
trial turned to be no more innovative than the first one.  Now there 
were twelve spearmen behind the line.  Worth took a deep breath, 
summoning his magic.  This would be tricky.

	The spears started flying, in groups of three's four's, and 
five's, but Worth didn't try to dodge them.  He was staring intently at 
the spears, sending magical projections against the ones that were 
headed in his direction.  Whenever his projection hit one, its 
trajectory was altered, and it fell short.

	The trick was getting all the spears before they hit Worth.  It 
was like a game of missile command with incredibly high stakes--his 
very life.  But Worth concentrated, sending magical projection after 
magical projection at the spears, turning from one spear to the next to 
the next, in rapid succession.  When he was done he was exhausted, but 
a large number of spears fell to the ground, several feet short of him.

	Uh oh.  Worth wondered how it looked.  Could the goblins believe 
that all their spear throwers had incredibly bad aim?

	There was no time to think of that now; a lone spear man had 
retained his spear, and was now charging across the line, heading 
straight to Worth.

	Worth, already tired, braced himself to dodge.  But inwardly he 
knew he needed to get his hands free, to have any chance of defending 
himself. 

	Time slowed down.  The goblin was charging, but moving very 
slowly.  Magical energy coursed through Worth's arms, his wrists, his 
hands.  He felt a new strength, and he pulled on his wrists, and felt a 
snap.  The rope no longer bound him.

	Time speeded up again, and the goblin completed his charge.  But 
Worth sidestepped the goblin and expertly  hit him on the head, causing 
the goblin to fall on the ground.  Worth's years of karate training had 
paid off.

	The goblins in the audience were booing, even as Worth scooped up 
the spear from the fallen goblin.  But goblin guards, armed with 
swords, forced him to give it up.  Still, he had his hands free now.

	The goblin magic user was looking very suspiciously at him.  He 
whispered something to the chief.

	Could he detect magic?  Worth had been told that very few people, 
even wizards, could detect magic.  And apparently most wizards needed a 
staff to perform any substantial magic.  In fact Worth could see the 
chief, gesturing to the goblin wizard's staff, and then to Worth.  He 
realized it too.  His cover was still safe.

	Worth was given a few minutes to rest while the third trial was 
set up.  He still felt he had some magic potential in him, which was a 
good thing.  He looked at the jeering crowds.  Worth could hardly 
believe that just a few days ago he had been safely at home in New York 
City.  Safely.  That was a laugh.  He had always thought the city was a 
dangerous kind of place.  Not anymore.  More than ever Worth longed to 
be brought home.

	"Good show, fellow," said Dulog, from the sidelines.  "You're 
doing well."

	"Shut up," said Worth.  If it weren't for Dulog's clumsiness, 
Worth wouldn't be in this situation.  No, Worth corrected himself, it 
was his samaritan instinct that had started all this.  But Palmer, a 
total stranger, had been kind to Worth, and Worth had felt the urge to 
reciprocate with others.  Well, he was still paying for it.

	Soon things were ready for the third trial.  There were two white 
strips, formed by a white powder that had been laid down on the grass, 
each about a foot and a half apart from each other.  Worth would have 
to walk from one end to the other.  If he strayed, he would be killed.

	"Pretty simple," he remarked, until he learned that he had to do 
all this with a bag over his head.  His hands were not tied, but it was 
made clear that if he removed the bag before he reached the other side 
he would also be killed.  To be certain of their victory, the goblins 
put a gag was put in Dulog's mouth, so he could not direct Worth.

	And then the bag was put on Worth's head, and he was rougly spun 
about in circles.  And then the goblins started laughing.  This time, 
they thought, they surely had him.

	Worth stood very still.  He knew he had no way of knowing which 
direction the parallel lines were in.  And there was no way he could 
feel the lines.  Or was there?

	Worth sent his magic out, in experimental feelers.  He found he 
could feel solid objects, like the ground beneath him. But how did one 
feel a line made of powder?

	The goblins were laughing louder now.  Worth knew that their 
tolerance was near an end.  But he had few options.  The first step 
could lead to death.  Better to take off the sack and fight like a 
magic user, at least taking a few of them with him.

	He started to move his hands to do just that when he felt a stab 
of magic.  Worth stood very still, but he was quite surprised. Was the 
goblin magic user playing tricks with him?  He felt a stab of magic 
again, but it was gentle.  It seemed to be hitting him on his right 
side.  Worth experimentally started to turn right.  A few seconds later 
he felt a gentle stab on his left side. He stopped, and slowly started 
turning left.  Then he felt a small magical tap on the center of his 
chest.  Someone was guiding him!

	It could be the goblin magic user, out for some laughs.  But 
there was another, more likely possibility.

	Palmer!  It must be Palmer!  He was out there, somewhere, and he 
was guiding Worth!

	Well, Worth would find out pretty quickly if his hypothesis were 
correct.  He took a step forward.

	The goblins were silent.  Worth took that for a good sign.  He 
took another.  And another.

	Suddenly he felt a magical tap on his left side.  Worth turned 
slightly to the left, and received a tap in the center.  He took 
another step forward.

	Palmer was leading him through the path.  Whenever Worth veered 
off course slightly, he directed him back in the right direction.  By 
the time Worth reached the other side the tension was over.  He took 
off the sack, with a wide grin on his face.

	The goblin chief looked amazed.  "How you do that?" he demanded.

	Worth said, "I am Worth, of  the Lower West Side.  Where I come 
from everyone has an impeccable sense of direction."  He realized that 
perhaps it was a mistake to give his name, but he couldn't resist a 
little boast.

	"A fine show, Worth of the Lower West Side," said Dulog, who was 
now able to speak again.

	Worth groaned.  "This is the last time I try to do something nice 
for somebody," he vowed. 

	"But it was so good of you to come to my assistance!" said Dulog 
sincerely.

	"Somehow, when I'm sitting in the middle of a bunch of ferocious 
goblins who are planning two more ways of killing me, that doesn't give 
me much comfort," said Worth.

	The forth trial was quickly prepared.  Worth could see the goblin 
magic user whispering with the goblin leader.  Obviously these 'five 
trials' were not preestablished tests, but rather whatever devious 
games the chief could think of at the moment.

	The goblins came over and tied his legs and hands.  And then the 
goblins smeared some sticky substance on his pants legs.  At first 
Worth thought it might be a toxic substance, but as it seeped through 
his clothing he felt no harm.  Whatever the purpose of the cream was, 
it wouldn't hurt him.  Not directly.

	And then the goblins brought the cage onto the field.  Worth 
could see the occupant through the bars.  Asnake.  A large one.  The 
cage rattled as the python moved about.

	The goblin chief approached Worth.  "How do you feel?"

	"Smelly," said Worth.

	"Oh?  I know someone who is positively attacted by your odor," 
grinned the chief.  And they all laughed.  "Somehow I do not think you 
will be able to slither out of this one.  But be comforted that you are 
the first to have survived three of the five tests.  Your demise will 
be the topic of many a dinner fiest."

	"Nice, very nice," said Worth sarcastically.  He tried to free 
his hands, but he couldn't, of course; the bonds were too tight.  So he 
was to be the bait.  Well, he could use magic to free his hands; his 
last attempt hadn't done much good to his wrists, but Worth judged that 
it would do no permanent harm to him.  But even if he had his hands 
free, then what?

	The chief said, "I'm afraid it will not be very quick, either.  
Our friend is not poisonous.  In fact, he is very friendly.  He has a 
huggable way about him."  And then the chief clapped his hands once and 
stepped back.  The snake was let loose, about ten feet from Worth.

	It was large.  That was the first thing that Worth noticed about 
it.  It was large, nearly as long as the snake he had tangled with in 
the swamp.  And plenty wide too.  He didn't relish the idea of 
wrestling with it; assuming he could get his hands free, which didn't 
seem very likely at the moment.  He could use magic to dispatch it, but 
that would clue the goblins in, something Worth didn't care to do.

	The snake immediately keyed in on Worth, and started to slither 
to him.  First things first, Worth thought.  Buy some time.  He rolled 
away, to the far end of the field.  When he reached the far end a few 
goblins kicked him, getting good laughs out of that .  Meanwhile, the 
snake pursued Worth.  He had bought a few seconds, at most.

	Worth watched the snake approach him, tolerating the occasional 
kicks by the goblins sitting on the sidelines.  He tolerated it firstly 
because he had just thought of a plan, and secondly because the plan 
involved great pain for goblins, notably the ones who were kicking him.

	The snake closed on Worth.  Worth summoned his magic.  It 
fluttered momentarily as he was kicked again, but it held in place.  
Worth needed to be next to the goblin audience for this to work.  But 
the timing would be tricky.

	The snake closed, slithering across the ground as its fangs 
hissed at him.  Worth remembered the other snake he had eliminated, 
burning its face off, and he wished he could have done the same to this 
one.  But this situation called for more subtley

	The snake was huge and slimey, its wet skin glistening in the 
bright midday sun.  Worth watched, fascinated, as the beast closed with 
him.

	The snake nearly reached Worth, and it coiled for the final 
spring...

	Worth felt another kick, his magic fluttered....

	The snake sprung forward, going for a landing that would take it 
atop Worth's helpless form....

	Worth directed his power, pulling the snake in a higher arc than 
it intended....

	And the snake flew over Worth, landing in the audience behind 
him.  There were screams as the snake wrapped itself around one of 
Worth's kickers. In the turmoil Worth rolled away, and watched the fun.

	Some goblins were screaming, others were running away, and still 
others were drawing swords, cutting into the snakes and sometimes their 
fellow companions.  Were it not for the presence of other guards Worth 
might have untied himself and escaped in the chaos that followed.

	When the snake had been killed and order had been restored, the 
chief looked livid.  Worth, still tied but now at least sitting up, 
smiled innocently at him.  The chief looked like he wanted to kill 
Worth right then and there.  He had been made to look like a fool, and 
everyone knew it.  He couldn't kill Worth outright... but he could 
devise a terrible, terrible final trial, one that Worth would be 
certain not to survive.  Worth saw his frown turn to an evil grin, and 
he felt afraid.

	And then the final test was announced.  Worth had to take out 
three goblins.  Two of them were huge goblins warriors, armed with 
swords.  The third was the goblin magic user.  Good.  Worth had a score 
to settle with him.

	The goblins untied Worth.  They at least wanted it to be a little 
sporting.  But they weren't sporting enough to give him a weapon.

	"This is the final test," said the chief.

	"And then you'll let me go, if I pass it?" said Worth, rubbing 
the rope burns on his wrists.

	The chief nodded.  "Of course," he said, and the goblins laughed.  
But the chief still wasn't happy.  The captive should have perished 
long ago.  If he survived this test, it would look bad for the chief.  
He would have the captives killed, of course, but it would still look 
bad for him, even worse than it already did.  This was the last time 
the chief would ever give a captive a trial.  The chief sat on the 
sidelines, guarded by two goblin warriors.

	"Hm...." said Worth, not really sure he trusted the chief's word 
to set him free if he won.  If Worth were going to break out of here, 
he would have to make the attempt soon.  But how could he possibly 
escape?  He would have to fight upwards of 20 or 30 goblins in any 
direction he fled.  Unless he gave the goblins an incentive to let him 
go.

	But Worth had a more immediate problem.  Two large armed goblins 
faced him, and behind them was the goblin magic user.  First things 
first.  He eyed them as the first two slowly approached him, 
brandishing their swords.

	Worth could dispatch them with two quick magical bursts; he was 
tired from his previous exertions, but he felt he still had the ability 
within him.  But what then?  No, he still had to conceal his abilities, 
for at least a little bit longer.

	The two goblins approached him, one on each side.  Worth summoned 
his magic.  This was going to be tricky.  Worth had never before used 
his magic while he had to move around at the same time.

	One of the goblins lunged forward with his sword.  Worth dodged 
to the side, and used his magic to pull on the goblin, sending him 
stumbling, and ultimately crashing to the ground.

	Out of the corner of his eye Worth could see the second goblin 
swinging his weapon, and even as Worth swerved to the right he felt a 
terrible pain on his right side.

	Worth winced as the sword sliced into his ribs.  His magic failed 
him as he felt the incredible pain scream for his attention.  But Worth 
still had enough wit to scramble to the first goblin, who was slowly 
getting up.  He didn't look over his shoulder; he knew that the second 
goblin was turning, turning to prepare for another swing.

	Worth gave the first goblin, still struggling to get up, a mighty 
kick in the face, and he sprawled back onto the ground.  And then Worth 
had the goblin sword, and was lifting it to meet the cut of the second 
goblin.  Cold metal steel clanged on cold metal steel.

	Worth got a better balance and withdrew, taking a step back.  One 
hand clutched his side, which was bleeding profusely.  The other had a 
firm hand on the sword.  The second goblin warrior lunged, and Worth 
parried.

	This went back and forth for some time.  The goblin was obviously 
a better swordmaster, and he began to score on Worth, nicking him in 
the arm and the leg.  Worth was still in pain, and barely trained, but 
he had a natural dexterity.  Endurance was another matter; only 
desperation kept the pain from overcoming him, keeping him standing, 
keeping him parrying.

	At one point Worth scored on the goblin, cutting him in the sword 
arm.  The goblin screamed in pain, and hacked at back at Worth 
viciously, pushing him back, pushing him back.  But Worth kept parrying 
him.  And Worth had a plan.  Slowly, slowly but surely, he maneuvered 
to where the goblins chief was sitting, enjoying the games.

	When Worth got close, he saw his chance was near.  He lunged 
forward, for the first time, and the goblin was forced to quickly 
parry.  Despite his pain, Worth summoned his magic, and used his extra 
strength to force the goblin to the ground.  Worth raised his sword, 
and-

	he fell to the ground, too.  Unable to move a muscle.

	The goblins cheered.  Worth had forgotten about the goblin magic 
user.

	The second goblin slowly got up, dusting himself off.  He eyed 
Worth lying helplessly on the ground.  He picked up his sword, and 
grinned at the crowds.

	The goblins cheered.

	Worth tried to move, tried to summon his magic, tried to do 
anything.  No luck.

	The goblin raised his sword, directly over Worth.  He prepared to 
swing his sword, and-

	The goblin fell to the ground, with a loud thump.  And suddenly 
Worth felt that he could move.  Slowly, painfully, he got up.  Out of 
the corner of his eye he saw the goblin magic user, who had been 
standing next to the chief, slowly getting up as well.  Something must 
have knocked him out too.

	Someone, not something.  Palmer!  Palmer was still with him!

	The time for subtly was over.  Picking up his sword, Worth ran 
for the chief, simultaneously summoning his magic.  It was weak, and it 
was uncertain, but it was still with him.

	Two goblin guards ran foward to meet him.  Worth did not even 
raise his sword.  He just pointed at each of them, sending a burst that 
send them to the ground.  (He didn't have enough power to kill them; he 
merely used enough force to push them off balance.)  And then Worth 
reached the chief, and slapped the dagger out of his hands, and grabbed 
him, holding the sword to the goblin leader's throat.  Guards rushed to 
the chief's aid.

	"Hold it!" Worth cried.  Suddenly the pain in his side returned, 
and he knew he could not hold out very long.   The goblins froze. "The 
next one who takes a step closer will cause the death of your chief."

	"Release him!" Worth commanded, pointing to Dulog.  The chief, 
looking scared, nodded, and two goblins jumped to obey.

	"You all think you're so great," said Worth.  "The tough Nalcar.  
You're great at picking on helpless captives.  Like this!" he said, 
slapping the chief in the face.

	The goblins were outraged, some of them yelling, others raising 
their weapons.

	"Intruder!" 

	Worth turned, saw the goblin magic user raising his hand, as if 
to cast a spell.  Worth felt vibrations forming from the raised 
hand....

	"Catch this," said Worth.  Without moving his hands, he send a 
magical burst that looked like a line of fire floating on the air.  It 
flew in a direct line to the magic user's hand, and the magic user 
screamed, falling to the ground, as his hand went up in flames.

	"And the next one who tries anything gets worse," said Worth, 
eyeing two goblins who were trying to sneak up from behind them.  By 
now Dulog had been freed and he came to Worth.

	"Good," said Worth.  "Now, we are going to leave.  If anyone 
tries anything, your chief dies.  If anyone comes within ten feet of 
us, your chief dies.  If anyone follows us, your chief dies.  Get it?"  
He was angry now, and they all knew it.

	Dragging the chief along, Worth made his way out of the circle.  
"Get back, get back!" he yelled, when the goblins did not clear the way 
fast enough.

	Finally they made their way out of the circle of goblins.  Worth 
led his captive a down a path going out of the camp, one that he hoped 
led south.  The goblins followed behind him, weapons raised, an angry 
murmur in the air.  Worth did not know how long he could keep them off.  
Suddenly he turned around and screamed, "Back!" like a maniac, pulling 
the sword up against the chief's throat.  The chief cried out but Worth 
used his other hand to slap him in the face, yelling, "Shut up!".  The 
goblins, angry but horrified, withdrew, temporarily.  But they soon 
followed again.

	 And Worth's pain was intensifying.  It was a loud, angry sharp 
pain that he felt, washing over the whole right side of his body, and 
Worth felt himself starting to lose consciousness.  It was probably the 
shock, due to all the blood he had lost.  "Dulog," said Worth softly.  
"My side is killing me.  I can't keep dragging him along.  Run for it, 
ahead on the path.  Go, now!"

	Dulog saw the look in his face and didn't argue.  Worth wanted to 
give him a five minutes head start, but he felt his strength sapping 
away after one.  He felt he had no chance for survival now, but at 
least he had managed to save Dulog.  Not that the clumsy retch deserved 
to be saved, but at least Worth could feel that his sacrifice had not 
totally been in vain.

	When Worth felt he could go no further, he turned around.  The 
goblins were about twenty feet behind him.  "Stop!" Worth yelled, and 
they stopped.  This was no good.  He couldn't go on.

	Worth let the chief go.  "Well chiefie, this is where you and I 
have to call it quits.  Don't think it hasn't been great," he said, 
pausing.

	The chief looked at him, with a mixture of anger and fear.

	"Because it hasn't," Worth added, hitting the chief on the head 
with the flat of his sword.  Then Worth dropped the sword and started 
running.  He was so weak that he didn't feel he could carry anything, 
much less himself.  The goblins gave a war cry and started chasing him.

	Worth heard them behind him.  In a few seconds it would be over.  
Well, he had given it his best.  He ran, staggering-

	nearly into Palmer.  "Worth, close your eyes!" he yelled.

	Just as Worth had closed them there was an enormous flash behind 
him, lasting for just a second.  But it was so strong that Worth caught 
the brightness of it, even through his closed eyes.

	Worth opened his eyes, looking behind him.  The goblins were all 
screaming, attempting to feel their way about.  The ones in the front 
ranks, at least, were all blind.

	"It's just temporary, come on!" said Palmer, pulling him forward.

	Worth ran as best he could.  He was conscious of Dulog and Palmer 
ahead of him.  But after a few minutes his strength gave out.  He was 
still bleeding, and he couldn't go on any more.

	He must continue, he said.  By now he had fallen behind Palmer 
and Dulog, and they were no longer in sight.  And then Worth came to a 
fork in the path.  Which one did they take, left or right?  There was 
no way to tell.  he had to keep moving.  Worth took the right.  It 
wouldn't matter now.  He didn't have much strength left to continue.  
Nor did he think he had much longer to live.  He had lost a lot of 
blood.

	He heard the sounds of pursuit behind him.  The goblins were 
coming up again. The sounds got louder and louder.  Worth glanced 
behind him. He could see them pursuing him.

	Worth stumbled along.  He knew he had only seconds left.  His 
magic had  left him, and he was exhausted.  Ahead, though, he saw the 
tall weeds had receded.  They had given way to a pretty flower garden.  
Worth couldn't believe his eyes.  But he just kept going.

	The goblins were almost behind him now, the one in the lead just 
a few feet to his rear.  And then Worth stumbled, and fell, and it was 
all over.



	Worth lay on the ground.  When no blow came he painfully turned 
over and looked up.  He was in the beautiful garden.  He looked back at 
the path.  The goblins were standing there, at the end of the path, 
just standing there and yelling, waving their swords.  They were only 
two feet away from Worth, but none of them crossed over.

	Worth wondered what was stopping them. And then he soon found 
out.  One of the goblins crossed over, and then his body instantly 
glowed, then fizzled, then faded.  The other goblins screamed, and ran 
away.

	What were they afraid of?  Worth laid his head back on the 
ground.  Consciousness was fading.  Then Worth turned, and he saw a 
beautiful woman looking down at him, and that was all he remembered.



	Worth sat up in bed, yawning.  That had been a terrible dream.  
He had been chased by monsters, and hacked by them, and... Worth looked 
around.  He was lying on a bed of soft leaves, in the middle of a 
garden.  This wasn't his apartment.  Worth suddenly sat up, feeling for 
his wounds.

	He felt fine.  He lifted his shirt, looking at his right side.  
There was a small scar there, nothing else.  All the bruises he had 
received from the redbeard highwaymen were gone.  So were the scars 
from the muddites in the swamp.  Worth felt fit.

	"The young man awakens," said a sweet voice.

	Worth turned, and saw the most beautiful sight in his life.  A 
woman, with long, flowing blonde hair, and a perfectly oval shaped 
face.  She was dressed in a long, simple, white garment.  It was a thin 
dress, one that was nearly see through.

	"Who... who are you?" said Worth, suddenly finding any of this 
hard to believe.

	"I am Talsall," said the woman.  Her voice was like music, and 
Worth as if he were listening to a piece of a pleasant song everytime 
she talked.

	"Hm," said Worth, getting up, stretching his legs.  His old 
clothes were gone.  He too was wearing white now.  He blushed, thinking 
about how that must have happened.

	"Does something disturb you?" said Talsall, in her high, sweet 
voice.

	"N-No," said Worth, not quite sure he felt uncomfortable.  
Something defintely did not feel right here.  "Who are you?  What 
happened to me?"

	"I am the nymph of Talsall," said Talsall.  "I have tended you, 
and healed your wounds.  Whatever were you doing with those naaasty 
goblins?"  And the way she said 'naaasty' made it obvious to Worth her 
severe distaste for the  goblins.

	"Playing a little game," Worth joked, looking around.  The whole 
place was a pretty garden, with innumberable sorts of flowers growing 
along the banks of a little stream that ran through it.

	"You should not be playing games with the goblins!  They are 
evil!  They are wicked!  They are terrible influences on such a young, 
handsome man like yourself.  Come, are you hungry?"

	Worth nodded.

	He ate at a small table that had been set up at the edge of the 
garden.  He dined on cucumbers and apples and pears and lettuce and 
radishes.  Worth hated radishes but he wasn't picky; he was very 
hungry.  He washed it down with a jug of water, which had a sweet taste 
to it.

	The nymph talked nonstop.  "It's been so long since I've gotten 
any visitors and no one ever comes to see me and maybe because this is 
such an out of the way place and the goblins have driven away all the 
travellers and I've been so desperately lonely for such a very, very 
long, long, long time."

	"Why don't you just go outside?" said Worth, feeling his old self 
returning.

	"Oh, I can't do that, I can never do that.  Some nymphs can but 
not the Talsall nymph, no not me. It's the way things were supposed to 
be, and I can never ever go outside."  She smiled at Worth.

	"Hm," said Worth. "Why can't the goblins come in here?  What 
stops them?"

	"Oh, they're bad.  Bad things can't come in here, no, they can't 
do that.  It would be bad for the plants, you see."

	Worth didn't see, but he didn't comment either.  He finished 
eating, gulping down the last piece of cucumber.  "Thanks," he said.  
"For the food, for everything.  I thought I was a goner."

	"Yes, you were very weak, very wounded, but I tended you, made 
you better, made you whole," said the nymph. She smiled again at Worth.

	"How long have I been here?" said Worth.  Wounds like his 
couldn't be healed overnight, or could they?  He looked up at the sun.  
It was bright in the morning sky.

	"Time?  Oh, I don't know, I'm no good with those sorts of 
things."

	Worth checked for his possessions.  His wallet was in the pocket 
of his new clothes, as well as his watch.  He looked at it.  Thus far 
his watch had survived the travails of his adventure fully intact.  It 
said 3:30.

	The nymph suddenly reached around the table and gave Worth a 
great big hug.  She had a body that was incredibly soft and gentle.

	"Uh, thanks," said Worth.  "What was that for?"

	"It's just so great having you here!" said Talsall.  "I never get 
visitors, not ever, ever.  Come, let me show you around!"

	She gave Worth a tour of the gardens.  It was an incredibly 
peaceful place, with large varieties of plants and flowers growing 
everywhere.  Birds chirped benignly in the background.  Worth head the 
tinkle tinkle of the nearby brook, and it sounded almost like music. As 
they walked around Worth saw a small hole leading into the ground.  
"What's there?" he asked.

	"Oh, that's the cave.  Nothing in there," she said, leading him 
on.

	She showed him the rest of the grounds, all neatly manicured, all 
clean and crips and beautiful.  Like her.  She stopped at the base of a 
large tree, which had a large pile of the soft leaves at the base.  The 
tour seemed to be over.

	"What is this?" said Worth.

	"Where I sleep, silly.  It's very comfortable.  Here, give it a 
try."  And she yanked him down to the ground.

	The leaves were comfortable, very soft, like the ones Worth had 
slept on.  "Very nice," he said.

	The nymph looked into Worth's eyes.  "Do you think I'm nice?" she 
said.

	Worth looked at her.  She was beautiful.  "Yes," said Worth, 
suddenly a little shy.  And a little fearful.  And the worst part of it 
was, he didn't quite know why.

	She reached over to hug him, running her hands over his back. 
"Oh, I knew it, I knew it!  We are going to have such a splendid time 
together, simply splendid!"

	"Uh, I don't know," said Worth.  "I have to be on my way."

	"No!  You can't!" she said.  She smiled at him suggestively. "You 
must stay."  There was something in her smile... a hunger, almost, that 
alarmed Worth, more than before.

	Worth started to get up.  She was very nice, and she had helped 
him, and he was grateful.  But he had to go to Maytig and get those 
rocks.  And something was not right here.  "I have to go," he said.

	She stood up, putting her arms around him.  "What's the matter, 
don't you find me attractive?"  She smiled at him again.

	Worth started to answer, when a bolt of energy flew from her eyes 
to his.

	Suddenly Worth saw that she was right; she was attractive. The 
most attractive woman he had ever seen.  Her face, her body, her 
personality, everything about her attracted him.  He could no longer 
resist.  He gently laid her down on the ground, starting to kiss her.  
Strongly.  Passionately.

	"Yes, That's right, that's right," said Talsall.  "That's the way 
it should be."  She smiled triumphantly and cried out with great joy.



	Later Worth got up.  The Talsall nymph was no where to be seen.  
He took a walk around in the garden.  The sun was shining, the trees 
were swaying in the wind...

	"Hello," said the nymph, bringing a tray of fruits.  Worth 
suddenly felt hungry.

	"And how are you?" she said, smiling at him.

	"Fine," said Worth.  He ate ravenously, as if he was very hungry.  
But suddenly he looked up at the sun.  Something was odd, but he 
couldn't quite remember what.

	"What's wrong?" said the nymph.

	"I'm not sure," said Worth.  "Do you know what time it is?"

	"Time?  I've never been very good with time," said the nymph, and 
she smiled at him.  Worth smiled back.

	Then he remembered, he was wearing his watch.  He looked at it.  
3:30.

	"Come," said the nymph, taking him by the hand.  She was leading 
him to the tree.

	3:30?  The last time he had looked it was 3:30.  How could that 
be?  Could he have slept for nearly 24 hours?

	Talsall sat him down on the ground, and started kissing him.

	"Something's wrong," Worth murmurred, as if in a daze.

	The nymph looked up at him.  He looked in her deep green eyes.  A 
bolt of energy went from her eyes to his.  "Something's wrong, dear?" 
she said, smiling innocently.

	"Nothing...." said Worth, suddenly distracted.  Suddenly he 
hungered, for her, for her body.  He reached for her, and seconds later 
was kissing ardently, feeling her soft frame against his.  The Talsall 
nymph gave a sly smile.



	When Worth awoke again he felt that something was wrong.  The 
nymph was gone.  What had been happening? It was as if he couldn't 
think clearly.  He had to try.  He had to try.  But nothing made sense.

	It was as if everything was a jumble.  A pity he couldn't use 
magic... magic!  He could use magic.  What for, he didn't know, but it 
was worth a try.  Worth summoned his magic.  The magic flowed through 
his body.  There, now that he had it, what did he do with it?

	The magic continued to flow... through his arms, his legs, his 
body, his head... Worth felt an odd sensation in his head, as if 
certain pathways were becoming unclogged, certain pathways that he 
forgot had even existed.  And then it all became clear.

	He immediately looked at his watch. It was still 3:30.  He was 
trapped in the cycle.  He was a prisoner of the nymph.  She had taken 
control of his mind.

	Worth looked about.  The nymph was nowhere to be seen.  The thing 
to do would be to immediately run out of the garden.  But somehow Worth 
didn't think that would work.  She would always be there, waiting for 
him.  Somehow he just knew it.

	He would have to construct a plan, a plan of escape.  But he 
needed more information.  The cave.  She had been defensive about the 
cave.  That was where he needed to go.

	Worth got up, heading for the garden.  The Talsall nymph was 
immediately there, almost waiting for him.  "Worth!" she said, giving 
him a hug.  Worth returned it.  He didn't want her suspicions getting 
up, not yet.  But when he touched her, he felt himself starting to fall 
under her spell, and he quickly broke the embrace.

	"And how are you?" she said, with a pure smile.

	"Fine," said Worth, his mind clearing again.  "I see you've 
gotten some food there for me," he said.

	"Yes," she smiled.

	Worth knew the cycle.  Once he had eaten and washed up, he would 
be trapped.  "You know," he said, "I'd like a little exercise before I 
eat."

	She immediately got an alarmed expression on her face.

	"I'd, you know, just like to go for a walk, in the garden, of 
course.  Just for a few minutes," he added, realizing that his 
bargaining position wasn't very strong.

	"Well... ok," said the nymph, grabbing his arm.  She, of course, 
was coming along.

	Worth thought frantically.  She obviously couldn't read minds, 
otherwise she would have known immediately that he was no longer under 
her spell.  That, at least, was some comfort.

	She smiled up at him.  Worth pasted a smile on his face.

	"Oh look!" said Worth, pointing to a bunch of blue flowers.  
"Aren't they lovely?" he said, distracting her attention.

	"Yes," she said, smiling even broader now.

	"You know, I'll bet they would make a great centerpiece on the 
dining table," said Worth.  "Would you do that for me? Please?"

	"Of course, Worth," Talsall said, smiling.

	"I, um, am going to wash up in the stream.  Why don't you do 
that, and I'll meet you at the dinner table in a few minutes.  Then I 
can eat, and we can attend to more pressing matters," and Worth gave 
her a kiss suggestively.  

	That was dangerous.  Once his lips touched hers, he felt his 
attraction towards her mounting again.  When he pulled away his mind 
felt a little confused again.

	But the Talsall nymph was positively pleased.  "Oh Worth!" she 
said, dashing off.  She turned around, though, and said, "Be quick!"

	"Oh, I will!" said Worth, waving her off as his mind cleared 
again.  "Not," he muttered under his breath, as she dashed off.   He 
quickly ran to the cave.

	It was dark inside, but there was enough light from the outside 
to see the contents.  There were  enormous stores of provisions, and an 
assorted array of weapons, armor, and other equipment.   There were 
swords and daggers and crossbows and chain mail and leather armor and 
rope and back packs and lanterns and many packages filled with many 
things.

	There were also skeletons, a large number of them, pitted groups 
of bones scattered around the cave.  Worth stifled back a gasp.

	"Worth!  What are you doing here?"

	It was the Talsall nymph.  She hadn't waited long.

	Worth turned.  All pretense was now gone.  "What happened to 
them?" he said, turning to the skeletons.

	"I loved them!" said Talsall.  "And they stayed with me!"

	"For the rest of their lives," said Worth.  "Unable to leave, 
unable to resist your charms."

	"Just like you, Worth," she said softly, sending him a bolt of 
energy.

	But this time Worth was prepared.  He had summoned his magic, and 
he kept it flowing through him.  It wasn't a shield, not really, but at 
least it might help him resist her charm.  He stood there defiantly, 
not smiling.  She had not won.

	The Talsall nymph looked like she was about to cry.

	"It's over, Talsall nymph," said Worth.  "I no longer-"

	Suddenly she sent another bolt, a much stronger, more intense 
one.

	In seconds Worth could not keep his hands off of her.  He needed 
to feel her, her hair, her lips, her body....

	"Oh yes!  Oh yes oh yes oh yes!" the nymph cried.  And that was 
all Worth remembered.



	Worth woke up under the Talsall's bedding tree.  He shook his 
head, and his thoughts cleared.  Somehow he had enough magical 
resistance to snap out of the nymph's spell, after a time.  He looked 
at his watch.  Yep. 3:30.

	This time the Nymph approached him, with a tray of food.  "Worth, 
you haven't eaten in a while.  You need to keep your strength up," she 
said.

	"Oh yes," said Worth, taking a bite of cucumber in his mouth.  
She either didn't realize that he had snapped out of it again or she 
didn't care.  She could spell him again just as quickly.

	Worth's mind worked quickly as he ate.  She couldn't read his 
thoughts.  Could she detect his use of magic?  One way to find out.  
Calmly, still chewing his food, he summoned his magic.  It flowed 
through him like an old friend.

	Talsall didn't stir, continually smiling at him.  Ok, she could 
project it, but she couldn't sense it.

	Worth ate slowly, realizing that this could be his only respite 
until their next episode of lovemaking.  In his mind he tried to 
construct a shield, a shield against magical attacks. 

	But it just wouldn't form.  Worth just didn't know how to go 
about it.  Worth didn't even know if it was possible to do.  His 
training with Palmer hadn't gotten that far.

	Well, that left one thing.  He would have to either incapacitate 
or kill the nymph.  He was reluctant to do it; after all, she had 
healed his wounds.  But she was also keeping him a prisoner, using him 
as a love slave.  Worth had bigger and better ambitions in life than to 
be used as a piece of meat by a sex starved magical nymph.  He would 
have to hurt or posssibly kill her.

	The nymph smiled at Worth.  He smiled back.  "Love you," he said 
cheerfully.

	She giggled.

	Worth finished eating.  She looked expectantly at him.

	"I have an idea," said Worth, looking as if he had come up with 
something original.  "Let's play a little game."

	"A game?" said the nymph, still smiling.

	"Yes, a game. Here's what you do. Sit, yes, keep sitting there, 
but turn away from me.  Yes, turn away, turn away, that's it.  Now, 
when I give the word, turn around, and give me the biggest hug you 
can!"	

	"Oooh!" she squealed.  "I like this game!  But don't keep me 
waiting too long."

	"I assure you, I won't," said Worth, his voice deadly serious 
now.  She turned around.

	Worth gathered up all his magical strength.  He didn't have his 
staff, but his power was still substantial.  He was healed, and was now 
back up to full strength.  He would send a sizzling wave of magic, to 
make a hole in her back, through and through-

	It was the only way.  This was a magical being, and Worth didn't 
how much power would be needed to merely hurt her.  She had the ability 
to heal, perhaps very quickly.  And this might be his only chance to 
escape.  Worth swallowed.  He would have to use full power. He would 
have to kill her.   There was no other choice, no other choice that 
could guarantee his escape.  She had kept him a captive.  She was to 
blame for what was coming.  But Worth felt a little guilty about it.

	"Worth?" she said.  "Hurry up."

	This would be it.  His only chance.  Now or never.  He was 
unjustly held as a prisoner, and he had a right to escape.  Taking a 
deep breath, he launched a magical attack, straight at her back, at 
full strength.

	The magic streamed out, hitting her... and just disappeared.  
Disappeared, without a trace.  The Talsall nymph scratched her back 
absentmindedly, as if there might have been a mild itch.

	Worth was devastated.  He was helpless against her.  What else 
could he try to do?  If he attempted to throttle her, she would just 
spell him. What else-

	Suddenly she turned around, and was in his arms in a split 
second.  "I just couldn't wait!" she yelled, feeling him all over.

	Worth found her presence in his arms enough to excite his 
interest.  He felt his resolve slipping away.  If he was to fight her, 
the time was now.  He found the strength to get up, letting her go.  
But he found himself partially regretting the move, so strong was the 
battle within himself.

	"Worth?" she said.

	"Talsall, let's play one more game," said Worth.

	"Oh...."

	"Come on, one more game," said Worth.  "And then we'll be 
together.  And it will be good, the best it's ever been."  He smiled 
slyly at her.

	"...all right," said Talsall.  "What do we do now?"

	"Sit there, close your eyes, and count to ten.  When you open 
your eyes, I'll be here.  Waiting for you.  Eagerly," said Worth, 
giving a big smile.

	"Ok," said the nymph, closing her eyes.

	"No peeking," Worth chided her.

	"None," said the nymph.  "One..."

	Worth got up, and as quietly as he could, started to run away.

	"Twothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten!  Worth!" he heard from 
behind him.  Worth kept running. The garden wasn't that large; he could 
see the boundry of it, not thirty feet away.

	Suddenly the nymph literally appeared in front of him.  "That 
wasn't nice!" she said, sending a bolt to Worth.

	Worth gasped.  When she appeared, he barely had time to summon 
his magic.  It saved him, barely, as he rocked back and forth, 
indecisively.

	The nymph watched his expression, waiting, waiting to see if 
another bolt was called for.

	Worth's mind swayed.  He slowly felt himself losing resolve.

	"Wooorth," he heard.

	Suddenly, something came flying through the air, landing at his 
feet.  Worth absentmindedly picked it up.  It was a piece of wood.  A 
familiar piece of wood.

	It was his staff!

	Suddenly, Worth's mind became clear.  The magical flow through 
him was strong and regular now.

	"Run!" he heard.

	 Worth pushed the nymph aside, and ran for the boundry.

	He felt a bolt strike him.  Some of his resolve started to erode.  
Twenty feet to the boundry.

	Another bolt struck him. Worth kept going, but he was more 
uncertain now.  She was so beautiful. How could he leave her?  But the 
staff kept the flow of magic pumping through him, and he continued on, 
almost through inertia.

	Then Worth reached the boundry, with one foot to go, and another 
bolt struck him, and he stopped.  He turned around.  The nymph was 
beckoning him. She was so incredibly beautiful.  He would be a fool to 
leave her. He took a step back to her-

	When a hand yanked him over the boundry.


Chapter VII  Battle to the River



	"Worth!" said Palmer, looking anxiously at him.  "How do you 
feel?  About the nymph?"

	He was back in the reeds again.  But just behind them was the 
garden of the nymph.

	Worth slowly organized his thoughts.  How did he feel about her?  
"I feel... free of her influence. Thanks, Palmer, I needed that."

	"Oh, Worth, it is such a good feeling, to rescue someone in 
need," said Dulog, coming into view.

	"If you're trying to score points with me, don't even try," said 
Worth, still angry at the errant knight.  He suddenly turned around, 
saw the nymph, on the garden side of the path.

	"Worth, come back," she implored.

	Worth recoiled, until Palmer said, "She has no power over you out 
here, Worth."

	Then Worth faced her, careful to stay on his side of the boundry.  
"Sorry nymph.  Perhaps you'll learn someday that catching men and 
forcing them to be your love slaves is a bad thing to do."	

	"Oh Worth!"

	"She can't help it," said Palmer.  "It's in the nymph's nature."

	"Men have minds, too," said Worth.  "We're not just objects, for 
you to use again and again and again."

	"Worth!" she cried.

	"We have to go," said Palmer, tugging Worth away.  "The goblins 
are undoubtedly only a few minutes behind us."

	"Wait," said Worth, one last time.  He felt a buildup of anger 
towards the nymph, the nymph who had used him, taken his mind, 
controlled his desires.  "Talsall?"

	"Yes?" she said, her hopes getting up.

	"You know that last time, the last time we were together?"

	"Yes?"

	"I faked it!" Worth said, running away down the path, after his 
companions.  He heard her cry out, but he didn't turn back.

	Worth caught up to Palmer.  "The goblins are right behind us?" 
said Worth, jogging along with Palmer and Dulog.  "Have the goblins 
been chasing you for all the days I was gone?"

	"You've been gone less than an hour," said Palmer.  "But they'll 
be time for explanations later.  It's nearly evening.  We must get a 
good distance away by dark!"  They started to run.

	At times they could hear the pursuit in the distance, but it was 
never very close.  After a time it grew distant, and by the time they 
stopped for the night they could not hear it.

	"They may also have stopped for the night," said Palmer.  "And, 
on the other hand, they may not.  But we can go on no longer, if only 
because  we need to be able to see the path.  We have missed a number 
of boobytraps along the path today, but if we went on at night we would 
surely spring one."

	They went about twenty feet off the path, into the thick reeds.  
"We will not be able to light a fire," said Palmer.  "But if we keep 
our voices down, I do not think we will be detectable, even if they 
come by, down the path."

	Palmer doled a bit of food to Dulog and Worth.   They each had 
much to tell the others, but it was Worth's story they were most 
interested in, so he started first, starting his story at the point 
where he had been separated from Palmer.

	"I waited for you in the reeds, but then I saw the goblins 
bringing him in," said Worth, pointing to Dulog.  "I take it you've 
met."

	"I have met this fine and fair fellow," Dulog beamed.

	"Yeah," said Worth.  "Anyone, a fit of temporary insanity took 
me, and I attempted to rescue him from the goblins.  I did, and we were 
making our escape, when someone fell into plain view and alerted the 
goblins," he said, casting a venomous look at Dulog.  "We were 
captured, and sentenced to death."

	"You never let them finish," said Dulog.  "You don't know they 
were going to sentence us to death."

	"Yeah, we might have gotten off on parole, with community 
service," said Worth sarcastically.  "I challenged their laws, and then 
got caught up in those five trials.  The trials, basically, consisted 
of whatever interesting ways they could think of to kill me.  I managed 
to fend off the spear attacks, as well as the snake attack, without 
revealing my magical ability, although I think the goblin magic user 
was suspicious."

	  "I presume that it was you, Palmer, who helped me when it came 
to walking between the parallel lines, and handling the goblin guard 
who was about to slice me.  As well as the goblin magic user.  I owe 
you for that one.  And for a whole lot else."

	Palmer smiled.  "I'm sure Lore would have been very angry with me 
for not taking good care of his charge."

	"Ah yes," said Worth, feeling a tinge of sadness.  "Anyway, I 
grabbed the goblin chief, used him as a shield to escape, and then you 
used that magic--just what was that magic? to help us to escape.  I had 
been seriously hurt, and fell behind."

	"But you are not hurt now, by the looks of you," said Dulog.

	Worth ignored him.  "I guess I made a wrong turn, and ended up in 
the nymph's garden."  He shuddered.  "She healed me, but she also put a 
spell on me, and forced me to... pleasure her.  I don't know how long 
it took to snap out of it, or how many times I tried to escape.  It 
just seemed to go on and on, over and over.... and then one time, the 
last time, I almost made it.  But her charm was too strong.  And then 
there was my staff... I thought it had been lost.  The goblin chief had 
tossed it into the reeds."  He looked at a loss for words.

	Palmer smiled.  "Perhaps I can fill in a few gaps.  I returned 
from my scouting trip to find you missing.  Incidently, the path I went 
down was the right path, not that it matters anymore.  The one you 
followed led directly to the goblin camp.  In any event I returned to 
find you missing, and was a little disturbed."  He looked at Dulog.  
"But, given the circumstances, your heart if not your wisdom was in the 
right place, and you can be forgiven.  I quickly ascertained that there 
were no violent marks on the ground, so I concluded that you had not 
been taken by force; nevertheless, your absence was puzzling.  I was 
left with no choice but to follow the path you had taken."

	"I spied the goblin camp from the reeds for some time.  In fact, 
I had nearly reached your location when you were captured by the 
goblins, and I saw you brought before their chief.  When the chief 
threw your staff into the reeds, I saw where it landed."  He smiled.  
But then his smile faded.  "While I was formulating a plan to rescue 
you, I saw the goblins gathering in the outdoor circle.  When I saw 
that you, Worth, were the main attraction, I was beyond myself with 
worry.  There was no way I could rescue you from several hundred 
goblins!  But I had to get closer, so I did."

	"How?" said Dulog.

	"I... camoflagued myself," said Palmer.  "It is a difficult 
explanation, but Worth understands.  It is a magical technique."

	"One which you have to teach me!" said Worth. "I'm beginning to 
realize that magical power isn't everything!"

	Palmer nodded.  "Quite correct.  I moved in close, just beyond 
the last layer of goblins seated in the circle, and watched.  I must 
confess that I thought you were done for early on, Worth.  If I could 
have done something for you in the beginning, you know I would have.  
But all I could do was watch and wait.  You were right to hide your 
magical abilities. It gave you an edge.  Even their magic user couldn't 
figured out how you successfully navigated the path with the sack over 
your head!"  He chuckled.

	"And you utilized your magic quite well, with the spears, with 
the snake.  Especially the snake.  To any untrained eye the snake 
incident would surely look like a fluke."  Palmer chuckled again.  "But 
I had to help you more actively at the end.  You were seriously 
wounded, and could not last much longer.  It was difficult, at that 
distance, to accurately direct a projection, but I did, paralyzing one 
of your attackers, and, temporarily, the goblin mage.  Your grabbing 
their leader was a stroke of brilliance, I must say.  When you had 
gotten some lead over your pursuers, and were about to let the goblin 
chief go, I launched a burst of light in front of the goblin ranks.  It 
didn't have the power to harm them physically, but many of them lost 
their vision for a time.  Even that exertion, for me, was draining."

	"We ran forward, as best we could.  I eyed the path ahead and I 
instructed Dulog to watch that you were following behind.  We had gone 
some distance before I turned and asked where you were.  He did not 
know."

	Worth cast a disgusted look at Dulog.

	"It was a harrowing time!" said the knight.

	Palmer continued.  "We doublebacked, although we had to hide 
several times in the reeds to avoid the goblins.  Then we saw that you 
had fallen into the realm of the Talsall Nymph."

	"You know of her?" said Worth.

	Palmer nodded.  "I have travelled this land before, perhaps not 
as thoroughly as some in the Lower Threstles, but I know it well 
enough, and I know of nymphs.  When I studied magic in Kiriender Tal, I 
learned much from the Imperial library.  I studied the art and science 
of magic, to be sure, but much else as well.  Nymphs, as I learned, 
were actually normal women, many, many years ago.  Most of them, I 
think, originated in Kalstagon, a land to the north of here that I 
believe no longer exists.  During the upheaval years, a long time ago, 
longer than the bad chaos, the earth shook, and different elements came 
to the surface of Koo.  Some of those elements... altered the people 
they came into contact with.  It is said that one such element effected 
women, giving them the loving power over men that the nymphs have.  
Some were also given longevity, and other abilities."

	"The nymphs started wandering, often far throughout Koo.  They 
started to enslave large numbers of men, in their fashion.  In fact, 
they even set up a kingdom, also to the north, which ruled for several 
hundred years.  But for some reason the nymphs preferred to stay in the 
north.  Few came down.  One of those who did was Talsall.  There are 
records in Maple of her coming.  All men fell smitten before her, and 
in time the entire town fell under her sway.  Only a great magic user, 
Numark, resisted her.  He was unable to destroy her, because of her 
magical protections.  Nor did he wish to do so.  Unlike other nymphs 
from the north Talsall did not actually lust for power.  She just... 
lusted."

	"So Numark took her to the Battle Plain, which was then 
unpopulated, and banished her to a certain area that she could not 
escape from.  Unfortunately, people could enter in, and the warnings 
that Numark posted were destroyed in the terrible events that followed, 
such as the bad chaos."

     Palmer looked Worth straight in the eye.  "None who goes into her 
territory ever go out.  Evil is instantly obliterated; and otherwise 
all men are forced to stay."

	"What happens to the women?" Worth wondered.

	Palmer shrugged. "I do not know.  But it is peril, and great 
peril at that, for a man to enter, Worth.  For although she did heal 
you of your wounds, which perhaps might have proved fatal, she trapped 
you, as you know.  I contemplated going onto her grounds to attempt a 
rescue of you." Palmer sighed, as if he had had a long debate with 
himself.  "But even a wizard greater than I would rightfully fear to 
enter a nymph's domains.  I knew that if I entered I would become a 
slave, just as you.  So I watched, and I waited.  After several minutes 
you made your way to one of the boundries-"

	"Several minutes?" said Worth.

	"Time can flow differently in a nymph's domain," said Palmer.  
"Or perhaps it was the magic of Numark.  I do not know.  But from my 
persepective, after a few minutes of waiting and watching I saw you 
struggling with her, magically.  If you were to have any chance of 
escape, it would be at that moment.  I thought then of entering, but 
knew again that two captives would be no less easy to manage than one.  
So I did the only thing I could.  I called to you and tossed you your 
staff."

	"Yes, yes, I remember that," said Worth, as if recalling a dream.

	"It was not a finished staff, as I told you, but it was enough.  
Enough to tip the balance in your favor, at least for a time.  Then, 
when you were on the brink of escape, both psychologically and 
geographically, I pulled you out."

	"Thank you again," said Worth.  "All along I realized that you've 
done the best you can for me.  I've been a terrible burden, I know."

	"Not so terrible," said Palmer.  "And think nothing of it."

	But Worth didn't think nothing of it.  He thought a whole lot of 
it.  Somehow he would figure out a way to repay Palmer for saving him.  
Palmer had helped Worth when he had been delirious on the road, he had 
helped Worth escape from the goblins, and he had also help rescue Worth 
from the nymph.  Worth felt he owed the magic user quite a bit.

	There was silence for a moment.  Then Worth turned to Dulog. 
"What's your story?"

	"Story?" said Dulog.

	"What are you doing here, in the middle of goblin territory?" 
said Worth.

	"Yes, I would be interested to hear that too," said Palmer, also 
a little suspicious.

	"I am a knight of the city of Maple, and a personal emissary of 
Corren, head of the Council of Maple."  Dulog puffed up his chest with 
pride

	"Really? said Palmer.  "I too am a resident of Maple.  Dulog 
Dulog Dulog... you're the Dulan son!  You're from the Dulan estate."

	"Yes," said Dulog proudly.  "Corren sent me to investigate the 
goblin incursions in the area of Greenleaf and Willow."

	"Greenleaf and Willow are fifty miles to the North," said Palmer.  
"What are you doing down here?"

	"I, ahem, had to adjust my path, due to the surge of the 
goblins."

	"Really, Dulley?" said Palmer.

	"What?  I thought his name was Dulog?" said Worth.

	"It is," said Palmer.  "That's just the pet name the people in 
Maple call him."

	"Well, I never!" said Dulog.

	"Yes, I remember you now," said Palmer, getting a gleam in his 
eye.  "You're the one who wants to play soldier.  You used your 
family's influence to get a commission in the Dulog militia, if I 
recall."

	"I saw that my talents could serve the militia, yes," said Dulog.

	Palmer snapped his fingers, as if he were trying to remember 
something.  "You were in the command of the lost platoon, weren't you?"

	"What do you mean, lost platoon?" said Worth.

	"I resent that name, and all it implies," said Dulog, looking 
hurt.

	"I remember now," said Palmer.  "Your platoon always seemed to 
get lost in maneuvers.  Your troops called you Dulleyhead, if I recall.  
I seemed to remember hearing that it was the lowest rated unit in the 
entire militia."

	"That's slander, sir!"

	"Now it all makes sense.  You say Corren sent you out on a 
reconnaisance mission.  I say he sent you out here in the hopes of 
getting rid of you, so he wouldn't lose any more men."

	"I resent the implication!" Dulog protested.

	"Keep your voice down," Palmer snapped.

	Dulog continued, at a lower tone.  "Council Leader Corren is a 
personal friend of mine, and when we get back to Maple, I will see you 
disciplined for your insolence."

	"That's funny," said Palmer. "I'm a personal advisor to Corren, 
and he's never mentioned you, not once, 'personal friend'.  And I was 
out on a genuine scouting mission for the council.  But now I am on an 
urgent mission, one that concerns the whole of the Lower Threstles.  
Your ineptitude in getting caught the first time, and then getting 
caught a second time when Worth tried to rescue your miserable hide 
could have endangered our mission."  He glared at Dulog.

	"Hey, aren't you being a little hard on him?" said Worth.  He had 
no love for Dulog either, but he didn't know that this harshness was 
justified..

	"I'm sorry," said Palmer.  "It's been a long day.  But if you've 
known how many good men he's led to their deaths-"

	"Not true!  We faced adverse circumstances!" said Dulog.

	"Tomorrow we must resume our mission to Maytig," said Palmer.  
"Dulog, you will go back to Maple."

	"What?  I want to go with you!  Tell me about your mission," said 
Dulog.

	"We don't have enough supplies for you," said Palmer bluntly.  
"For Worth and myself, we have barely enough for two days, maybe."

	"And I have no food.  Am I supposed to starve?"

	There was no answer.  Finally it was Worth who broke the silence.  
"Look, it doesn't make me excited to lug him along.  But just think, if 
he goes back, and gets captured, now he knows where we're going."

	"I would not betray confidental information, sir!" said Dulog, as 
if he had been insulted

	"So better to take him with us," said Worth.  "I know he's a 
pest, an irritant, and an utter boob, but his heart is in the right 
place.  If you still feel strongly about him, we can dump him later, 
when we're farther from the goblins."

	Palmer reluctantly nodded.  But it was obvious that his dislike 
for Dulog was strong.

	"Let's change the subject," said Worth.  "What do we face next?"

	"It will take us one or two days, depending on how direct our 
path is, to exit the Battle Plains," said Palmer.  "Then we come to the 
Dalias.  It is a wide river, but there should be a bridge there that we 
can cross.  And a day beyond that... is Maytig.  I have never 
personally been to Maytig.  It is abandoned, 'tis said, and is not a 
nice play to stay."

	"Wonderful," said Worth.  It was dark now, and he lay down, 
preparing to go to sleep.  "You know, I never did get a sword.  It 
seems every time I put my hands on one, I simply lose it."  He thought 
about all the swords in the nymph's cave.  All those weapons!  And he 
didn't come out with a single one!

	"We will get you a weapon, Worth," said Palmer.  "But you 
yourself are already quite a potent weapon."

	Despites the terror of the past (day?), Worth could not resist a 
grin.  Palmer took the first watch, and he went to sleep, and dreamed 
happy thoughts.

	The next day they cautiously made their way down the path.  The 
sun shined down them, basking down on Worth's back and neck.  They had 
had a small breakfast, and Palmer warned them that was all they would 
get until dinner.

	"This is it?" wailed Dulog, looking at a small chunk of bread.

	"We will not even have that much by tomorrow," said Palmer.  "We 
will have to hunt for our food then.  But first we must get out of this 
goblin country."

	Under Palmer's guidance, they marched steadily south.  The paths 
were small and winding, and there were often forks in the path, but 
Palmer seemed to know which ones to take.  Worth was glad for his 
company.  He himself had little sense of direction, as he had 
discovered from personal experience.

	They marched through the late morning, until they at last left 
the area of the tall reeds.  They came to a region of the plain that 
was populated with tall, thick trees that had many sturdy branches 
bearing leaves of all different colors.  "We are making good progress," 
said Palmer.  "At this rate, by later today, or tonight, maybe, we 
shall be out of the plain, and, perhaps near the Dalias."

	They walked through the trees slowly, in single file.  First 
there was Palmer, their guide, his hand firmly grasping his staff.  He 
was followed by Worth, who held his own staff.  Bringing up the rear 
was the bumbling Dulog, who kept looking over his shoulder for signs of 
pursuit.

	As did Worth.  Dulog did little to inspire confidence.

	Towards noon they spotted their first sign of trouble.

	"Do you see something, in the trees over there?" said Worth, 
peering forward.

	"What?" said Palmer, suddenly alarmed.  But he stopped moving.

	Everyone was silent.  They studied the trees ahead.

	"I don't see anything," said Dulog.

	"Shh!" said Worth.

	They waited a long minute.  Then, they heard a crackle, and saw a 
figure darting from one tree to another.

	"Ambush," said Worth.  "How many are there?"

	"Impossible to tell," said Palmer.  "We'd best go back.  The land 
is more open here, we might cut around them."

	They started to turn around when they caught a glimpse of 
movement from a tree to their rear.

	"We've been encircled!" said Dulog.

	"More likely that we've come in between two groups of goblins.  
If they have a lot of groups searching for us, they may be spread 
thinly," said Palmer.  He drew his sword.  "We have to go forward now.  
We fight."

	"How do I fight?" Dulog complained.

	Palmer picked up a stick off the ground, handed it to Dulog.  
"Now, you can fight."

	"Fight with this?"

	"Stop whining," said Worth.  "I'll get you a sword in just a 
minute.  Stick close."

	He and Palmer summoned their magic.  Slowly they walked forward.  
There was no way of telling precisely where the goblins were, but Worth 
and Palmer were ready.  Suddenly a goblin jumped out from behind a 
tree, and then another, and another.  Suddenly the forests were full of 
goblins, all brandishing swords.

	Worth fired off a blast at one, and it screeched in pain, falling 
to the ground.  Worth hadn't blasted a hole in the goblin, through and 
through; he had reduced the power of his projection, in order to save 
energy.  But the goblin would not be getting up for a while.

	Worth fired at another, and another, and Palmer downed two with 
magical attacks of his own.  The goblins were so dumbfounded by this 
that one stood still, in shock, as Palmer approached and stabbed him, 
through and through.  The goblins, seeing their comrades fallen by this 
unexpected wizardry, fled, screaming.

	"Here's your sword," said Worth, tossing Dulog one.  He picked up 
another goblins sword for his own use.  Worth was happy to learn that 
these swords were relatively light, shorter models than the ones the 
goblins had been using earlier.  That meant he could hold it in one 
hand and use his staff in the other, like Palmer.

	"Come on," said Palmer, urging them ahead.  "They won't stay 
disorganized for long."

	They ran through the trees.  They saw no signs of the goblins at 
first, but soon Worth caught glimpses of them following behind, in 
groups of twos and threes.

	Suddenly they faced another attack, from four goblins popping out 
from behind a group of trees.  Shouting "Nalcar!", they attacked.

	Two were shot down immediately by beams coming from Worth's and 
Palmer's staffs.  One engaged Dulog, and one lunged at Worth.

	Worth pulled back, and the blade fell short.  Worth chopped with 
his own blade, clubbing the goblin in the neck, sending him crashing to 
the ground.

	Dulog was not doing as well.  He parried the goblin sword 
thrusts, but was forced to give back.  Palmer moved in, smartly rapping 
the goblin on the head with his sword.

	They heards the sounds of shouting now, as if the goblins were 
rallying their forces.  "Come on!" said Palmer, a note of urgency in 
his voice.  They continued to flee into the forest.  A few moments 
later they came to a small open clearing in the trees.  Worth was 
preparing to rush on when Palmer put a restraining hand on his arm.  
"Hold it."

	Beyond the open space they could see goblins swarming through the 
trees.  They were coming from all directions.  But they were spread 
very thinly, and that was some hope.

	"I count about ten of them," Worth whispered, watching the slowly 
approaching goblins.  They knew, now, that they were facing deadly 
magic users, but something forced them forwards, always on the attack.  
Perhaps their masters had taught them that there could be nothing worse 
than  to report back in failure.

	"There could be more of them," Palmer whispered.

	"Can you blind them again?" said Worth.

	Palmer shook his head.  "They're too spread out."

	Palmer, Dulog, and Worth stood in the center of the circle, their 
backs to each other.  On a silent signal the goblins charged.  Palmer 
and Worth picked them off as they came, gunning down four of the 
charging creatures.  But still more came, and then the wizards were 
forced to defend themselves with their blades.

	Worth found he couldn't retain his magic while he was using his 
sword.  He lunged forward, stabbing a goblin in the gut. But no quicker 
had he pulled out his sword than another goblin sword came swinging 
down on him.  Worth parried at the last second.  There were just too 
many goblins to handle!

	Two of them vied for Palmer's attention.  He stabbed at one but 
had to dodge out of the way to avoid being cut by another.  Dulog was 
fighting inconclusively with another goblin.

	Worth was getting no where with the goblin he was dueling with.  
Each was parrying the other's blows.  Worth reached forward, thrusting.  
The goblins parried.  Then Worth kicked him in the leg, hard.  The 
goblin's face immediately registered with pain.  Worth swept his sword 
up, cutting him in the arm.  The goblin went down, but was immediately 
replaced by another.

	But the trio was making headway.  Palmer had dispatched another, 
and there were only three left, one for each of the defenders.  Worth 
stabbed his opponent in the shoulder, but his enemy kept fighting.  He 
cut at Worth and Worth could not parry in time; he dodged instead, and 
the sword sliced air mere inches from his chest.  Worth stabbed again, 
and he hit the goblin in the middrift, and the goblin went down.  But 
suddenly he heard a scream, and Dulog yelled, "I'm hit!" and he started 
to fall.

	Palmer was still busy with his opponent; if anyone would render 
help, it would be Worth.  He surged forward, parrying a hit meant for 
Dulog, who was now on the ground, clutching his arm.  The goblin 
reoriented and prepared to stab at Worth, but Worth, quicker, chopped 
down on the goblin shoulder, and that was that.  Palmer simultaneously 
disposed of his opponent.

	"Anyone hurt?" said Palmer, surveying the scene.

	Dulog gasped, pointing to his arm.  "I'm hit!" he said. 

	"Let's see," said Palmer skeptically.  He started to roll up 
Dulog's sleeve.

	"Careful, careful," said Dulog.  "It hurts!"

	Palmer peeled up his sleeve.  He saw a small red mark.  "A 
bruise," he said.

	"A bruise!" said Worth.  "I nearly killed myself rushing over to 
save you over a lousy single little bruise?"

	"It hurts," said Dulog.  "It did."

	"We've dallied enough," said Palmer, looking around.  "We must be 
off."

	Suddenly they heard the sound of rushing feet.

	"Quick!  Get up by that tree!" said Palmer.  "Dulog, come on!"

	All three of them hugged the tree that Palmer pointed to.  The 
sound of hurried footsteps was getting quite close now.  Worth felt 
vibrations near by as Palmer summoned his magic.  Palmer said a few 
words, and the air around the tree started to vibrate.

	Suddenly, a troop of goblins came into view.  There were more and 
more of them, dozens it seemed, and they filed into the open area.  
Their leader, seeing the bodies, gestured for them to halt.

	Another troop entered the area from the opposite direction.  They 
halted too.  All in all there must have been over 100 goblin troopers 
in the surrounding area, some of them not more than a few feet away 
from Worth, Dulog, and Palmer.

	"Where they go?" said a troop leader.

	"Not by us," said the other troop leader.

	"Chief really angry," said the first troop leader.

	"The Spandez not happy either.  Hand turned to toast."  Both 
goblins laughed.  "They want us find them, but where they be?  We 
searched entire area."

	They scratched their heads, puzzling over this for a while.  
Worth looked over at Dulog.  His face seemed to be making minor 
convulsions.  He seemed to be taking a deep breath.  He seemed about to 
sneeze!

	Palmer saw this, and slowly moved his sword up, careful to keep 
it within the vibrating barrier of air.  It came to a rest at Dulog's 
throat.  Dulog looked scared, but no longer appeared in immediate 
danger of sneezing.  He had gotten the message.

	One of the goblin soldiers near them started to yawn.  He looked 
over at Worth and Palmer and Dulog, only seeing the tree.  While his 
leaders debated, he walked to the tree, as if he were going to sit down 
with his back to it.

	Worth's grip tightened on his sword as he watched the goblin 
approach.  The goblin closed to five feet... four... three...

	 "Hey!" they heard.

	It was another goblin.  "Get back in line, you.  Rest time later.  
Much later!"

	At that moment the goblin troop started up again, splitting up in 
separate directions.  Evidently they were intent on combing the forest 
area of the plain.  The goblins trooped away, at a fast march.

	After the last goblin had gone and several minutes had passed, 
Palmer dispelled the camoflague field.  "That was close," said Worth, 
heaving a sigh of relief.

	"We're not out of it yet," said Palmer.  "But we've gone farther 
and better than I hope. If I remember this clearing right, there's a 
scant afternoon of travel left before we reach the edge of the plain."

	"Can you conceal us as we walk?" said Worth.

	Palmer shook his head.  "It is a much more difficult art, to 
render someone invisible, as opposed to blending in.  Nor do I feel I 
have the power for it.  We must go on, as best we can."

	They crept on more slowly now, to avoid detection.  At times they 
went from tree to tree, tiptoeing by goblin troops marching by forty or 
fifty feet away.  Once again there came a time when Palmer had to 
camoflague him and his companions; but when he was done his face was 
pale, and he looked up at his companions and said, "I cannot do this 
for very  much longer."

	"If only you had trained me on that technique."

	"It is not something I can teach you in a few minutes, Worth, if 
ever," said Palmer.  "But, if we get to the river, we should be safe.  
I do not think the goblins venture down that far, and once we cross it, 
we should be safe."

	They made their way through the forest, only stopping once, for a 
ten minute break.  It was midafternoon, and their stomachs were 
growling, because of the morning's abbreviated breakfast.  Palmer broke 
down and divided up what little remained of their food supply.  "For I 
feel we will need our maximum strength now rather than later."  And 
that was all he said on the subject.

	Worth gobbled up his small, hard piece of bread.  Well, this was 
the last of it.  It satisfied his stomach, but he knew that it would 
not fill him for very long.

	They continued to dart from tree to tree throughout the 
afternoon.  It was desperate, tense flight, for they knew they could 
encounter opposition at any time.   But as they moved farther and 
farther south they found fewer signs of the goblins.  Soon Worth was 
starting to conclude that they had left the goblins behind.

	"Perhaps, perhaps," Palmer commented.  "In any event, soon we 
shall know.  I spy the end of the plain ahead.  But I warn you, it will 
be the most dangerous part of our travels.  The last stretch is open 
lands, and that means we can be seen by all for many distances."

	Worth nodded.  In several minutes they did leave the trees 
behind.  They were now on scrub grasslands.  A little bit ahead, 
perhaps not more than a mile, Worth could see the edge of the plain.  
But he could not see beyond it.

	They walked at a fast pace, for they did not wish to linger 
there.  In a half hour, they neared the edge of the plain, and Worth 
could finally spy what was on the other side.  The plain was 
comparatively elevated, though there were steep paths leading down to a 
forest below.  And a stretch beyond the forest he could see the river, 
a strong, gushing zigzagging line of blue that made its way through the 
countryside.

	When they had almost reached the edge, Worth said happily, "We 
made it."

	"Do not be so certain," said Palmer dully.  He pointed, matter of 
factly, to three horsemen coming down the field, directly towards them.

	"Quick!  Their horses cannot get down the steep paths!  Let's 
go," said Worth, pulling at Palmer.  But Palmer would not move.  Why 
was he delaying? 

	Dulog had already reached the edge and started climbing down.

	"Their horses can't, but they can.  Nayorshoran is with them," 
said Palmer, matter of factly.  He looked stunned, or dazed, or perhaps 
he was in deep thought.

	"How do you know?" said Worth, watching the approaching riders.

	"He will stand on the edge of the cliff, and reign terrible 
spells down on us as we descend," said Palmer, still in a monotone 
voice.  Then he turned, looking at Worth.  "You must go now."

	"What?" Worth couldn't believe his ears.

	"I will hold them off, long enough for you to get down. Go, 
Worth!"  There was real emotion in Palmer's voice now.

	"You're weak, you can't handle them... you said you weren't a top 
wizard," said Worth.

	"But it is not Arnagon I face," said Palmer.  "I can handle Nay 
and the Black Daggers.  You are wasting time, Worth. If none of us 
survive, we will not get the rocks of Maytig.  Go, go now to Maytig.  
Get the rocks.  Bring them back to Maple."  He drew his sword, and 
unbuckled his scabbard, handing it to Worth.  "Here, you can use this, 
to carry your sword.  I have no further need of it."  He also gave 
Worth his backpack.

	He doesn't expect to survive.  This was no delaying action that 
Palmer was planning; he was expecting to die!  He was expecting to 
sacrifice himself to save Worth.  Just like Lore.  

	"Go!" said Palmer.  "You are untrained, you cannot help me!  You 
cannot even shield yourself from magical attack!  Please, Worth!"

	The horsemen were getting close now.  Worth nodded, heading for 
the edge.  When he reached it, he looked back.  The horsemen were quite 
close now.  Palmer raised his staff, and shouted in a clear voice, 
"Halt!"  Worth climbed down over the edge.  But he stopped several feet 
down, and peered over the top, with only his head at ground level.

	The horsemen stopped.  They were about thirty feet from Worth, 
but he could hear everything that transpired.

	The horsemen dismounted.  Worth immediately recognized Nay.  He 
wore his customary black helmet, and in addition to his dark leather 
armor he now wore a long, flowing black cloak.  Two Black Daggers 
accompanied him.

	"So, you're the one who has been giving our people so much 
trouble," said Nay.  "Let me see.  You could only be one of two people.  
You are most definitely from our world, so I suspect you are Palmer."

	"That is correct, Nayorshoran.  Your spies in Maple are well 
paid," said Palmer.

	Nay nodded.  He looked beyond Palmer.  "Where, mayhaps, might I 
find... Worth Rodgers?"

	Worth was stung.  They knew about him!

	"Do not concern yourself with him," said Palmer.

	"Oh, my master is not concerned with anyone.  But the one called 
Worth is of a... certain interest to him.  I find it curious that you 
are fleeing south.  Do you think you can escape our sphere of 
influence?"

	They didn't know about the Maytig rocks, Worth realized.  The 
enemy was not all-knowing.

	"Get your own answers, Nay," said Palmer.  "Maybe your spies 
aren't so useful after all."

	"Perhaps, perhaps," said Nay, considering.  "You realize that 
your very life is in peril," he said, almost conversationally.

	"You speak to no common folk, Nay.  I am Palmer of Maple, most 
renown wizard of all the Lower Threstles!"  He raised his staff in the 
air, and the two Black Daggers recoiled.

	But not Nay.  He merely laughed.  "You are also the only wizard 
in all the Lower Threstles.  We have dealt with more powerful likes 
than you, mighty wizard, and all too recently at that."

	Palmer's heart sank.  They were referring to Lore.  But 
outwardly, he kept his calm.  He must give Worth as much time as he 
could to get away.  "You may defeat me, here and today, Nay.  But know 
that your doom will be swift and certain, when the time comes."

	Nay just laughed the harder.  "The charade is over, mighty 
wizard.  The time has come.  Either step aside, or prepared to be taken 
out of the way.  I have a meeting with one Worth Rodgers, and I cannot 
permit you to interfere."

	Worth, from his hiding place just over the cliff, knew that he 
should be heading down.  Palmer was about to give his life so Worth 
could escape.  And Worth was wasting his opportunity.  And yet he 
couldn't leave without finding out what would happen.

	The time for talk was over.  Worth could feel Nay summoning his 
magic.  He was a spellcaster of sorts, then.  The Black Daggers drew 
their swords.

	"No!" said Nay.  "I will handle this myself, alone.  Stand back."  
The Black Daggers obediently withdrew.

	Palmer struck first, sending a beam of light at Nay.  Nay 
recoiled, and quickly regained his balance, sending a beam of his own 
back to Palmer.  They fought, back and forth that way, for some time.

	From his hiding place Worth could feel Palmer weakening.  He had 
the urge to get up and help his friend.  But sheer terror prevented him 
from moving, either to escape or to come to the aid of Palmer.

	Suddenly it was all over. Palmer's magic faded, and a beam struck 
him, and he fell to the ground.  He did not move.

	Nay looked down at the body, and said something to one of his 
men.  Then he started to walk purposefully to the edge of the plain.

	Worth immediately dropped his head below the edge of the cliff.  
Had Nay seen him?  What could he do?  He couldn't reach the bottom in 
ten seconds!

	Quickly, in desperation, really, Worth sat down on the ground, 
and summoned his magic.  He felt it flowing through him.

	Cloaking shield, cloaking shield, I need a cloaking shield, Worth 
thought desperately.  He studied the flow of magic through him.  He 
tried to shift it, with his mind, so that it flowed outside him.  
Suddenly, he felt swirling currents of magic appeared in front of him, 
all around him.  But he felt the vibrations were unstable.

	Worth desperately felt the ground around him.  It had a natural 
flow of its own.  He tried to shape the magic around him in the same 
way.

	Suddenly, Worth heard a crunching sound above him.  Worth knew if 
he looked up and saw that face, he would be distracted, and his magic 
would fade.  But the big question was, had he succeeded in cloaking 
himself?

	The crunching sound stopped, not more than several feet from 
Worth's left ear.  For a long moment there was silence.

	Worth knew he couldn't look.  His only chance was to maintain the 
cloaking shield.  He didn't know if it was working, but it was his only 
chance.  Maybe Nay was standing there, staring down at him.  Maybe, 
maybe not.  If he had been discovered, there was nothing he could do 
about it.

	"Worth Rodgers," said a deadly voice.  Nay.

	There was a long silence, without any noise, which seemed to go 
on forever.  Worth did not move.  Somehow he kept his concentration.

	"Just where did you go?" Nay mused.

	Worth now heard a second crunching noise, and a new voice.

	"Any sign of him, master?"

	"No," came Nay's gravelly voice.  "But I sense that he is not 
far."

	A chill ran down Worth's spine.  Did Nay know how far?

	There was another long pause.

	"What are your orders, master?"

	"Take the body of the fool magic user.  You know what to do with 
it.  Have Andre send for the rest of the troop.  I also want the Anchen 
brought up.  I think we may have a use for its services."

	There was another pause.

	"Was there something else, master?"

	"He seems so close... yet I do not see him," said Nay's voice, 
looking puzzled.  "I was monitoring the jumpshift when he crossed over.  
I have a rough feel for his nastarn.  Yet he continues to elude me.  
Come!  We will take the horses down the eastern side."

	The crunching sounds receded.

	Worth heaved a sigh of relief.  His magic faded.  He sat there, 
for a long moment, until he heard the sounds of hoovebeats.  A few 
seconds later Worth poked his head atop the cliff.  They were gone.  So 
was Palmer's body.

	Body.  Palmer was dead.

	Worth was struck with grief.  This was the second magic user who 
had died while attempting to save him.  Why didn't Palmer let Worth 
help him?  Worth knew the answer:  he wanted to make sure that the 
stones were retrieved. 

	But Worth could have helped him.  He could have projected magical 
attacks, stronger ones than Palmer.  What more did he need?  Worth 
searched his memory.  Palmer had mentioned something about a magic 
shield.  But just what the heck was that, and how did he go about 
forming one?

	Worth looked down below.   A long path awaited him.  He had no 
food, no guide, and he was totally alone.  Just like the first time.  
Just like Lore.

	He started walking.


Chapter VIII Breaching the Dalias



	Worth sat in a grove of trees, feeling miserable.  He had reached 
the bottom of the cliff, and now was only a short distance away from 
the Dalias.  He would be safe once he crossed the river, Palmer had 
said.  But Worth had no particular urge to go on.  Night was falling, 
and he was depressed.  He sat there in the dark, feeling the hard wood 
of his staff.  The goblin short sword he had appropriated was in his 
scabbard.  Palmer's scabbard.

	Worth didn't have the urge to go on.  He felt dull and listless.  
But then he felt angry.  Angry at what Nay and the Black Daggers had 
done.  He would make them pay.  He would make them all pay.  Tomorrow 
he would cross the river and get those Maytig stones.

	But then another thought occurred to Worth.  What would he do 
with the rocks once he found them?  Where did he go?  Where could he 
find the fell captain?  That question nagged at Worth, but so tired was 
he, that sleep soon overtook him.



	The next day the first sensation Worth was aware of was hunger.  
But he forefully blunted that back.  Palmer had said that he would be 
safer, at least from the goblins, once he crossed the river.  He hadn't 
been discovered at night, but that had been pure luck.  He was hungry, 
but he'd be better off if he crossed the river before hunting for food.  
Besides, Worth knew that he was hardly an accomplished hunter; the last 
time he had tried catching his food,  a rabbit had gotten the better of 
him.

	Worth walked the short distance to the river.  The Dalias was a 
long, wide river of sparkling blue that seemed to shine under the 
monring light.  It wasn't very wide, for a river, perhaps only four 
hundred feet or so at the narrower points.  Worth was a fair swimmer, 
and he knew that if it were necessary, he would swim across.

	But Worth spied a bridge in the distance, and he broke out into a 
broad smile.  But then he frowned; where had that bridge come from?  He 
hadn't noticed it before.  Curiously, he walked to it.

	The bridge was made of solid chunks of polished black rock, but 
Worth knew immediately that this was no ordinary bridge.  The bridge 
emanated vibrations.  Worth could feel them, more and more intensely, 
as he approached the entrance to it.

	In fact, when Worth tried to take a first tentative step on the 
bridge, he found he couldn't!  He tried to move his foot forward, but 
it just wouldn't budge.  Alarmed, Worth took a step back, and was 
relieved to see that his body still obeyed his commands.  Ok, he wasn't 
paralyzed; he just wasn't allowed to step on the bridge.

	It must be magical, Worth realized.  There must be some magical 
barrier that prevented him from crossing.  And yet the bridge was put 
there so people could cross.  Someone had to be able to cross that 
bridge.  The builder, probably.  Almost certainly someone with magical 
ability.  Worth had magical ability, a lot of it, he had been told.  
Why was he not able to cross?

	Worth summoned his magic.  No barrier was going to stop him!  
Tentatively, he took a step on to the bridge... or tried to.  He still 
couldn't put a foot on that bridge.  The magic of the bridge was still 
stopping him.  How did one dispell magic?  Worth just did not know.

	He concentrated a moment, letting his magic flow through him.  
Then, aiming carefully, he sent a withering blast of magic at the base 
of the bridge.  It was a tiring effort, but maybe it could weaken the 
bridge enough so that Worth could cross.

	Worth let loose with the beam, and then cut power, gasping for 
breath.  He felt tired now.  Well, he hoped he had accomplished 
something.  He tried to take a step forward, onto the bridge.

	And was rebuffed.  Damn!

	Worth walked away.  Slowly, he started to regain his strength.  
He wasn't going to get across that way.  Worth started to head 
upstream.  He might have to swim for it after all.

		Worth walked for a while.  He felt the vibrations from the 
bridge receding as he headed upstream.  They lessened, and receded, and 
then they stopped.  Abruptly.  Worth looked about.  The bridge was 
still in view.  And there was someone on it.

	Worth was tempted to shout out, but instead he got under cover, 
behind a tree.  It was very likely that it was a Black Dagger, perhaps 
Nay.  But Worth could not see the fellow very clearly from this 
distance.  Worth peered at him.  He wore robes of some sort.   And then 
the fellow was over the bridge, over to the other side, and Worth could 
faintly feel the vibrations from the bridge again.

	Worth ran back to the bridge.  The vibrations were getting 
stronger now.  How had that fellow done it?  Had it been Nay?  Worth 
doubted it; he had seen Nay twice, now, and neither time had he worn 
robes.  Palmer was dead; he had seem him killed.  Someone else, then?

	A wizard.  That thought ran through Worth's mind.  It was a 
wizard.  It must have been.  Who else could have crossed the bridge?

	But Palmer had said that he was the only wizard in all of the 
Lower Threstles.  There were monsters, like the goblin magic user, who 
could cast spells, but this had been a person.  So Worth thought.  
Perhaps another wizard was paying a visit to the Lower Threstles.

	Or perhaps it was the fell captain himself.  Worth suddenly felt 
a chill go down his spine.  He didn't know what the fell captain even 
looked like.  Could that have been him?

	Again, Worth was forced to doubt it.  Someone he couldn't imagine 
the great and powerful Arnagon travelling alone.  Then who could that 
have been?

	Worth stared at the bridge.  Someone had crossed it, so he could 
as well.  He was a powerful wizard; he should be able to cross it.  
Worth tried to take a first step, and failed.

	How was it possible to cross the bridge?  Worth sat there, for a 
few minutes, and then his stomach started to rumble again.  He wasn't 
going to think well on an empty stomach.

	"Worth."

	Worth immediately spun about.  How had someone snuck up behind 
him?

	It was Dulog.  He looked pleased, and he carried a heavy backpack 
of some kind.

	"What are you doing here?" said Worth.  There was something 
strange about Dulog.

	"I executed a tactical withdrawal when we ran into the Black 
Daggers," said Dulog.  "I headed down the cliff while you and Palmer 
were still arguing.  I was sorry to leave you like that, but we 
couldn't stand there arguing all day, you know.  Did Palmer make it?"

	"No," said Worth, staring absentmindedly into the air.  "No, he 
didn't."

	"I'm sorry," said Dulog.  "Despite our disagreements, he was at 
heart a good man."

	"Yes, yes he was," said Worth.  Then he eyed what Dulog was 
carrying.  "What's in the backpack, Dulog?"  he asked, with just a 
little bit of an edge  to his voice.

	"Food," said Dulog.  "A whole lot of it."

	"That's funny," said Worth.  "I don't remember you carrying 
that."

	"I found it," said Dulog.  "Here, in the forest, by the river.  A 
party of travellers had been slaughtered, by the goblins it seems.  
Poor fellows, they were all butchered.  But I found this pack of 
theirs, and it had some food."

	Worth noticed that Dulog had also acquired a scabbard for his 
goblin sword.  "Would you mind sharing some?" said Worth.  "I'm a 
little hungry."

	"Of course, Worth, you have no need even to ask."

	Dulog joined him, and they ate right there, not far from the 
magical bridge.  While they chomped down cheese sandwiches Dulog said, 
"You're not going to get across that bridge, fellow.  I tried that this 
morning."

	"Have you got any better ideas?" said Worth.

	"As a matter of fact, I do," said Dulog.  "I did a little 
scouting, and discovered a bridge a little farther upstream."

	"Then why didn't you take it?" said Worth, abstractly taking a 
bite of his sandwich.  The food was good.  It was fresh, as if it had 
been prepared recently.

	"I was looking for you, fellow.  Quite frankly, I felt badly 
about leaving you, but I simply could not stand those Black Daggers. A 
feeling of terror came over me."

	"That I understand," said Worth, his teeth gritting together as 
he recalled the memory.

	"Also, this mission of ours is still not so clear to me.  Just 
where is it we're going to again?" Dulog said it innocently enough.

	"Maytig," said Worth, eyeing Dulog steadily.  "Do you know the 
way?"

	"Maytig... hm... Maytig... I've seen it on a map, to be sure.  
It's somewhere to the south, I think.  It's all abandoned now, I 
think... just what is it we're going to do in Maytig?"

	Hadn't Palmer filled Dulog in?  Worth simply didn't remember; the 
events of the past few days were all a jumble in his head.  He started 
to answer, but hesitated.  Worth felt something was odd about Dulog.  
Or maybe there wasn't.  Worth felt confused.  His friends kept getting 
killed off.  Maybe he just had trouble trusting anyone.

	"Worth?  Is everything all right?" said Dulog, looking concerned.

	"Yes, fine," said Worth.  He took a deep breath.  "We're going to 
Maytig, and then we'll see from there.  You mentioned another bridge.  
Will  you lead the way?"

	It took less than an hour to reach.  Along the way they noticed a 
campfire.  It looked very recent; the blackened embers looked freshly 
burned.

	"Yours?" Worth inquired.

	"No," said Dulog.  "Though if my woodcraft means anything, I 
would say that someone was here last night."

	"So would I," said Worth.  He thought about the fellow in the 
robes who had crossed the magical bridge that morning.

	But in the bushes next to the campfire they found a bigger 
surprise.  Bodies.  Many slain corpses.  Bloody red streams leaked from 
their prone forms.

	"They have burns on them," said Dulog, horrified.  "They were 
killed by some sort of explosion."

	"Good," said Worth.

	"Worth!  How can you say that!"

	Worth turned over a body.  They clearly saw the face.

	"Goblins!" said Dulog, surprised.

	"An interesting mystery, don't you think?" said Worth.  "Let's be 
on our way, shall we?  Some of their friends may still be around and 
about."

	In a short time they reached the bridge that Dulog had spotted.  
It was a simple, suspended wooden bridge over the river.  When they got 
closer, though, they could see several small individuals guarding the 
entrance to it.

	Worth eyed them, groaning as he recognized them.

	It was the gnomes.

	It might not have been the same ones he had encountered before; 
there was no way to tell.  Worth approached the gnomes grimly, hoping 
for the best, but expecting nothing.  "Hello," said Worth.

	"You want to cross, you pay toll," said a gnome, getting quickly 
to the point.

	Worth sighed.  He turned to Dulog. "Do you have any money?"

	Dulog checked his pockets.  "I have two silver."

	"Toll is ten gold pieces.  Per person!" the gnome shrieked.  It 
seemed to delight in charging outrageous prices.

	"Listen you, how does anyone ever afford what you charge?  How do 
you make any money!" Worth yelled.  It was ridiculous.  It just didn't 
make any sense.

	"Calm down, Worth," said Dulog.  "Let me do the talking."  He 
stepped forward, clearing his throat.  "Gentle persons... we are on a 
mission of urgent importance."

	"Urgent importance," the gnomes laughed, imitating him in their 
high pitched voices.

	When the laughter died down Dulog tried again.  "The whole of the 
Lower Threstles is at stake!    You must let us cross.  I am Dulog, a 
personal emissary of Corren, head of the council of-"

	He had to break off, because the gnomes were laughing too loudly 
know to listen.  This time Worth pulled Dulog back.  Worth felt 
confident he could force their way across; his magic was now so 
powerful that he didn't think the gnomes could resist him.  But there 
was the matter of right; was this truly the gnomes' bridge, or were 
they just wandering around, trying to give travellers like Worth a hard 
time?

	"Listen, when you came here before, did you see the gnomes?" said 
Worth.

	Dulog thought on it.  "I don't remember... no, I don't remember 
seeing them.  But then, I did not get close enough to tell."	

	Worth groaned.  Really, he should have forced his way across.  
But decency held him back.  It might really be the gnomes' bridge.  As 
an attorney, he had to respect private property.   Anyway, he could 
still swim for it.

	"You win, this time," he said grudgingly to the gnomes.

	The gnomes laughed.

	Worth's temper flared, and he approached the gnomes, with murder 
clearly in his mind.  They drew their swords.  They weren't laughing 
anymore.

	"But hear this," said Worth.  "If we meet again, you won't be 
laughing.  I guarantee it."  And he turned away, and headed upstream.

	The gnomes laughed behind him, but it was a nervous, muted 
laughter.

	They walked upstream a fair bit, where the river seemed to be a 
little narrower.  Worth was silent the whole time.  In his mind he 
thought of happy way of slowly killing the gnomes.  When they had 
gotten out of view of the bridge, Worth snapped out of it, and said, 
"Ok, we've gone far enough.  We're going to have to swim for it."

	"What?" said Dulog.  "Sir, I cannot swim."

	"You'll have to try," said Worth.

	"And I cannot leave this behind."  This was the backpack, filled 
with food.

	"Uhhh... we'll hunt for food on the other side," said Worth.  But 
he was not optimistic either.  "Look, do you have any other ideas how 
to get across?"

	"Maybe we can find another bridge," said Dulog.

	Worth sighed.  "All right.  We'll give it another hour."  He 
started walking along the riverbank.

	An hour later, they were still walking.  Worth stopped.  "For all 
we know we could walk for days without finding a way across.  I say we 
swim for it."  He walked down to the water, and started to put his hand 
into it, as if to feel the temperature.

	And an enormous alligator surged out of the river, snapping at 
his hand.  Worth jumped back, feeling the air propelled by the steely 
jaw that had smacked shut next to his hand.  He quickly scampered up 
the bank.  

	Now he saw them, large colonies of alligators, swimmming around 
in the water.  The river was alive with diners.  And they had an 
indiscriminate palate.

	"I take it," said Dulog, "that we will not be swimming."

	They walked along the bank for sometime, into the afternoon.  
Worth was silent, depressed, perhaps that he had let the gnomes get the 
better of him.  Again.  He didn't relish the prospect of going back to 
beg for passage.  Dulog frequently interrupted his thoughts.

	"So going to Maytig will help us fight the evil of Arnagon," said 
Dulog.  "Palmer impressed that upon me.  But could you tell me 
specifically what we hope to find there?"

	Worth looked at Dulog.  He seemed to be acting normally.  And 
there was no reason not to trust him.  His earlier doubts about Dulog 
faded.  "We're looking for some rocks, some green rocks.  I don't 
understand much of it myself, byut somehow it will help us beat 
Arnagon."

	Dulog got a gleam in his eye.  "Rocks.... hm... rocks."  He was 
silent for a long time after that.

	By midafternoon Worth could see that they weren't going to arrive 
at a bridge anytime soon.  "We're wasting time," Worth fretted.  "We 
must get across."

	"Look!" said Dulog, pointing to the river.

	On the river they could see a small boat heading upstream.  It 
was a rowboat. The passengers rowed like maniacs, tittering all the 
way.

	Worth considered hailing them, until he saw who they were.  

	"I'll kill them," he said, balling his fists as the boatgoers 
came by.  Seeing Worth and Dulog, the sailors laughed loudly, chuckling 
as they rowed upstream.

	It was the gnomes.

	So angry was Worth, that he had to hold himself back from sending 
a bolt of energy to sink their little boat.  "Oooh," said Worth.  "That 
takes the cake!"	

	"Takes the cake?" said Dulog, looking puzzled.

	"The next time they get in my way, they won't be laughing.  I 
promise it!" Worth vowed.

	"Easy, Worth," said Dulog.  "There is no need to become so 
upset."

	"Shut up," said Worth.  "I've had enough out of those gnomes."  
He took a deep breath.  "Ok.  We are going to cross this river, and 
we're going to do it today."  He looked at the afternoon sun.  There 
were only a few more hours of light left.

	"How?"

	"By boat," said Worth grimly.

	"Boat?  What boat?" said Dulog.

	"We're going to make one.  A raft, actually.  Now gather all the 
large branches that you can find.  Quickly!" said Worth.

	They rushed to the trees to gather what branches they could.  
Most of the fallen ones were very small, so Worth was obliged to cut 
some down.  It was very slow work with his sword, so he used his magic.  
While his magical beam made steady progress as a cutting tool, Worth 
found it very tiring, and he knew he had to conserve his energy for a 
more pressing task--putting the raft together.

	Nevertheless Worth came out of the trees dragging three sturdy 
branches along the ground.  He eyed the pile that Dulog had 
accumulated.  "Is that all you found?"

	"There isn't a lot of larger branches lying around, you know," 
said Dulog.

	Worth took a deep breath.  "It will have to do."  He summoned his 
magic again, and started by putting two of the small logs together.

	"What are you doing?"

	"You can help best by keeping quiet."  Worth, using his staff, 
aimed a narrow but steady beam at the junction between the two logs.  
The thin beam stabbed out, going down the length of the junction.  When 
Worth was done, he rested a moment.

	"What did you do?"

	Worth picked up the two pieces.  They were now fused together.

	"Amazing!"

	Worth got to work on the others.  He found that as he used his 
power he had to rest more and more frequently.  When he was about two 
thirds done he collapsed, lying on the ground.

	"Worth!  Are you alright?" said Dulog, looking concerned.

	Worth breathed heavily.  "Just give me a few minutes."

	Worth took those, and more.  He was conscious that time was 
passing, and the sun was starting to descend.  Maybe tomorrow he would 
be more rested... but Worth felt a sense of urgency.  Nay was pursuing 
him, and somehow Nay was... attuned to him.  They must cross now.

	Worth got up.  There were about eight branches left to bind to 
the raft.

	Worth picked up three.  That would be all he could manage, he 
knew.

	He completed the first, and slowly binded the second.  When he 
got to the third his beam withered, and faded.  Worth tried to summon 
his magic again, and for a short time he got got a beam again.  But it 
faded, just before he finished fully bonding it.  Well, it would stick.  
Worth breathed deeply.  He was very tired.

	"What about the rest?" said Dulog.

	Worth picked up two of the longer remaining branches.  "We'll use 
these to paddle."

	"That's it?  We'll barely be able to squeeze onto that little 
thing!  And you saw those alligators!  We'll be ripped to pieces."

	"Help me pull the raft to the water," said Worth.  He started 
dragging, but he really was very tired.  "Come one!" he yelled.  Dulog 
started pulling, dragging the raft down the embankment.  When the raft 
had touched the shallow section of the water Worth got aboard.

	"Where are you going?" he said, seeing Dulog scramble up the 
embankment.

	"Just getting the food," called Dulog. 

	Worth saw him pick up the backpack.  But then he also saw Dulog 
freeze for a moment, and then come running down, a terrified expression 
on his face.

	"Worth!  People coming!  I think they're Black Daggers!"

	Worth ran off the raft, and poked his head up the embankment.  In 
the distance, he could see several people approaching, all on 
horseback.  It was too far to see who they were, but even now Worth 
could feel the dread.  It was the Black Daggers.  He ran down the 
enbankment.  Perhaps he had not been seen.

	"All aboard," said Worth, climbing on the raft and picking up his 
branch.  He used it to give the raft a push, and they were off.

	"Paddle," said Worth.  "Paddle for your life."

	He and Dulog started to paddle rapidly, using the makeshift 
sticks they had found.  They were not nearly as good as real paddles, 
and progress was slow, but they were moving.

	The trouble didn't start until they were fifty feet out from the 
bank.  A large alligator head suddenly appeared, propping its head up 
on the raft, snapping at Worth's foot.  The whole raft started to tilt.  
Dulog strove to regain his balance.  Worth hit the alligator on the 
head with his stick, and it fell off the raft entirely, and the wooden 
platform stabilized.

	Worth helped Dulog get his balance.  The bumbler could capsize 
the entire raft.  "Paddle, paddle," said Worth.  He kept one eye on the 
water for alligators, and one on the bank.  The riders had been heading 
their way, and sooner or later they would be in plain view of the 
little raft.

	Whole communities of alligators were following their progress 
now, though none were as bold as the first interloper.  Whenever one 
got too bold Worth would jab at it with his stick.

	"Paddle, paddle!" said Worth.  Dulog did.  He was feverishly 
scooping water.

	The alligators followed along.  Suddenly two leaped out of the 
water, and snapped at Worth and Dulog.  Both of them shifted position, 
and the raft heaved.  The knapsack full of provisions tettered on the 
edge of the raft.  "The food!" Worth cried, grabbing it.  He stabilized 
it, put it in the center of the small raft.

	"Resume paddling!" said Worth.  He cast an eye to the bank.  They 
were about two hundred feet out, more than halfway across the river.  
The Black Daggers could not harm them now, if it had been the Black 
Daggers Worth had seen.  And yet Worth was still worried.

	An alligator caught his attention, out of the corner of his eye.  
It opened its enormous mouth, trying to snap at Worth's leg.  He jabbed 
his rowing stick into its mouth, and it bit down, literally pulling the 
stick out of Worth's hands.  It sunk back into the water, taking the 
stick with it.

	"Shit!" said Worth.  He considered using his staff.  But it was 
much thinner than the stick he had been using to row, and wouldn't be 
very helpful.

	"Dulog, your stick!" said Worth.  He plucked it out of Dulog's 
fingers.  Despite the fact that he was exhausted, Worth was a more able 
boater than Dulog.  Dulog tended to chopp his stick into the water; he 
didn't go for a smooth entry to maximize the push.  

	Worth paddled, like a canoe, rowing from one side of the raft to 
the other.  Luckily the raft was so small that he could paddle both 
sides without changing position.  The going was slower, but they were 
making progress.  The far bank was now only 100 feet away.  

	An alligator came close, snapping its jaws, but Worth avoided it.

	Suddenly Dulog said, "Look!"  He pointed to the bank they had 
left.

	Worth turned.  There were several horses on the bank, and, below 
it, at the water's edge, were several black clad individuals.  Black 
Daggers.

	A chill ran down Worth's spine.  But he felt a new energy to 
paddle.  His mind told him that the Black Daggers were far away, that 
they couldn't harm him, but the fact that they were even in eyesight 
shook him.  Worth kept paddling, watching the Black Daggers out of the 
corner of his eyes.  Suddenly one of the Black Daggers pointed, and 
there was a splash in the water, not far from the raft.

	"A magical attack?  At this range?" said Worth.  They must be 
more than three hundred feet from the bank.  He paddled harder.

	Suddenly there was another splash, this time only feet from the 
raft.  A spray of water splashed onto Worth and Dulog.

	"Paddle, paddle, must paddle," said  Worth, doing so vigorously.  
Well, at least the alligators had been frightened off.	

	Suddenly there was a thunk, and the raft stopped moving.

	"What happened?" said Dulog.

	"We struck a rock, I think," said Worth.  "We're getting pretty 
close to the shore."  He looked ahead.  The bank was no more than fifty 
feet away.

	There was another splash of water, and this one was close.

	"Worth!"

	"I'm trying, I'm trying," said Worth.  He stuck the stick into 
the water, to try to push the raft off.  No luck.  His stick was not 
deep enough!

	Worth tried to locate where they were stuck.  Apparently they had 
hit a rock that was now under the raft, so there was no way to push off 
of it.

	"Worth!" Dulog cried, as another splash hit.

	This one was right next to the raft.  It sent both Dulog and 
Worth to the floor of the raft, and Dulog stumbled, partially falling 
off.

	"Hold on!" said Worth, grabbing his hand.  Dulog's feet were in 
the water.  There was no telling how long it would be before an 
alligator responded.

	Worth pulled as best he could, but Dulog was heavy.  A few 
seconds later he grunted, pulling him onto the raft as best he could.  
Dulog struggled to get up.

	"No, stay down," said Worth.  He started rowing with the stick.  
"I think we're off it, I think that last near miss jolted us off the 
rock!"

	He started paddling more furiously now.  The land was near.  The 
Black Daggers continued to attack, but their hits grew more and more 
off target as Worth approached the far side.  Evidently their accuracy, 
at least, had some limits.

	The raft reached the far bank.  It scraped the bottom of some 
rocks, and held there.  But there was a clear dry path up the 
embankment.

	"Come on!" said Worth, picking up the knapsack full of 
provisions, as Dulog struggled to get up.

	They slowly climbed up the embankment.  Worth looked across it.  
He could still see the Black Daggers, staring at him.  One of them 
started shaking a raised fist.

	Worth waved back.  He felt cocky.  The irony of it was that the 
Black Daggers had helped them get across.

	"Aren't you going to wave to our Black Dagger buddies, Dulog?" 
said Worth, feeling his sense of humor return.  They had gotten across, 
they had eluded them!

	"We must get out of here," said Dulog.

	"Agreed," said Worth.  "Somehow I'm not optimistic that the 
gnomes can keep them off their bridge."  Their victory, uplifting their 
spirits, was only a temporary one.  The chase would continue, as soon 
as the Black Daggers found a way across the river.  They had to 
continue to flee.

	But it was almost dark, and they were very tired, especially 
Worth.  They had walked less than an hour when darkness fell, and Worth 
knew he could not go on much longer.  They ate a dinner, and Worth 
collapsed, his back to a tree.  They talked in the dark to each other 
for a time.

	"So you come from another... planet?  You are not from the land 
of Koo?" said Dulog.

	Worth had to explained to Dulog, in a thumbnail sketch, about his 
background.  "Yeah.  I'm a lawyer, on the planet Earth."

	"A lawyer?  What is a lawyer?"

	"You don't have lawyers here?  Um, I guess you don't.  So tell 
me, how do you get disputes settled?"

	"Both sides go before the arbiter, and he settles the dispute."  
Worth explained it in a slow tone, as he would to a stupe or a small 
child.

	"What about criminals?  You put them on trial, don't you?"

	"Of course.  The Lower Threstles is civilized, I would have you 
know."

	"Who defends the criminals?"

	Dulog looked puzzled.  "Themselves, of course."

	"But, what of courtroom procedure?  Admissible evidence?  
Standards of proof?"

	Dulog looked more concerned.  "I am not sure what you are talking 
about, Worth.  The accused and the accuser go before the judge, and 
each relates their side.  Then the judge arrives at his decision."

	Worth sighed.

	"Is this what you do, Worth?  Tell the criminals' positions for 
them?"

	"No, not me, not personally.  I'm not a criminal lawyer.  I'm a 
corporate lawyer."

	Dulog was confused again.  "You speak for corporates?"

	"Corporates?  No, corporations.  Corporations?  Well, they're... 
organizations that produce products, and sell them to make money.  Gold 
pieces, you would say.  I handle transactions for them.  Say one 
company wants to make a leveraged buyout of another-"

	"Leveraged buyout?"

	 This was getting more complicated by the minute!  "Um... that 
would take a little explaining.  Look, when ownership of these 
companies changes hands, I help arrange the-"

	"If they wish to sell their property, why do they simply not give 
up the deed for the appropriate price?  What is the need for your 
services?"

	"Sometimes I wonder too," said Worth, sighing.  Why had he become 
an attorney?  To do good.  But somehow, along the way, he had lost 
sight of that goal.  Worth blinked; he was feeling very drowsy now.  "I 
don't think I can stay awake any longer.  Will you take the first 
watch, and wake me halfway through?"  They couldn't see very much in 
the dark, but at least Dulog could shout a warning if they were 
discovered.

	"Certainly," said Dulog.

	Worth collapsed into sleep immediately.  It had been quite a 
tiring day.


Chapter IX  The Rocks of Maytig



	Worth blinked, shielding his eyes from the sunlight.  It was 
morning.

	"Dulog?" said Worth.  He eyed his sleeping companion.  Worth 
checked his watch.  11:30.

	"11:30?  We've slept for fourteen hours?"  It was almost 
impossible to believe.  And yet Worth had certainly been exhausted, 
both magically and physically.  But Dulog had slept the night away.  
And the morning.  They were in broad daylight now; they easily could 
have been discovered by the Black Daggers.

	Worth went over and booted Dulog.

	"Wha, what?" said Dulog, slowly becoming conscious.

	"Wake up, you!" Worth roared.  "You fool!"

	"What?  Worth?" said Dulog, blinking as he slowly sat up.

	"You weren't on guard!  We both could have been killed!  You let 
us sleep the morning away!  You fool!" said Worth, booting him again.

	"Worth!" said Dulog.  "Oh, I must have fallen asleep.  I'm so 
very sorry."

	"I'm so very sorry," Worth imitated.  "That wouldn't have helped 
us if the Black Daggers had come upon us!"  He opened up the backpack, 
and got out some provisions.  "Here's lunch!  We slept through 
breakfast."

	Worth ate quickly, much more quickly than Dulog.  He wanted to 
get in some magical practice before they started their trek again.

	He summoned his magic.  He felt like he was almost back to full 
strength.  Good.  He stood by a tree, and projected the cloaking field 
in front of himself.

	"Hey!" said Dulog, looking astonished.  "Where did you go?"

	Good.  It was nice to have independent confirmation that it 
worked.

	"What do you see?" said Worth.

	"Why, the tree, of course.  But now it's a little wavy."

	Worth gasped.  So he hadn't perfected the cloaking field, not 
entirely.  It's a good thing that Nay hadn't looked very closely down 
the path at the edge of the Battle Plain.

	Worth concentrated.  He tried to get the vibrations more in tune 
with the natural feel of the tree.  "Is that any better?"

	"Um... verily.  The waviness is almost gone."

	Almost.  That means he hadn't done it perfectly.  Worth felt 
himself starting to get tired.  He collapsed the field, and let the 
magic swirl within him.  He still had not yet entirely recovered from 
yesterday.  But there was one other thing he needed to practice.

	Creating a shield against magical attacks.

	How would one go about it?  Worth considered this perplexing 
question as he watched Dulog finish his food.  It must be like a 
magical barrier in front of him, just like a cloaking field.  But a 
cloaking field only hid the user, it didn't provide any sort of 
protection.  Or did it?

	Worth took a deep breath, and projected his magic in front of 
him.  But this time he did not attempt to harmonize the vibrations with 
his surroundings.  Instead he studied the magic flowing in front of 
him.  It felt like thin, small particles of magic, floating up and down 
in front of his body.  Worth shifted it a different way, and it became 
visible.

	Dulog gasped.  He saw a shiny field in front of Worth.

	But this was no shield.  It was a very thin screen, with many 
holes in it.  Worth attempted to fortify it.  He concentrated, 
attempting to add strength to it.  He could see the shield becoming 
thicker now.  Some of the holes were sealing up.  But there were still 
gaps. 

	And then, abruptly, his power faded.  The exertion had been too 
much.  He was still too tired from yesterday.

	"What were you doing?" said Dulog.

	"Exercising," said Worth.  He felt tired, but still felt he had 
some energy left.  He picked up the backpack.  "Let's go."

	"Hey!" said Dulog.  He had discovered the backpack in the first 
place.

	"I have noticed you have a penchance for snacks," said Worth.  
"We must conserve our resources." 

	Water at least was not a concern.  There had been two skins in 
the pack, and they had refilled them at the river.  And it appeared as 
if they had enough food for ten days or so, if they conserved their 
supplies.  Substinance would not be a problem for some time.

	Worth and Dulog started off.  All Worth knew was that Maytig was 
to the south.  This time Worth was confident in his ability to go in 
the right direction.  South, simply enough, was away from the river.  
He and Dulog walked for much of the day.

	It was a nice enough countryside that they walked through, gently 
populated with trees.  It would have been a pleasant afternoon hike, 
had it not been for the fact that they were being pursued.  Worth had 
seen no sign of the Black Daggers; perhaps they had difficult crossing 
the river.  And it did not seem that Nay was perfectly attuned to him; 
if he had been, he would have caught Worth at the edge of the Battle 
Plain.  Sooner or later Worth knew that he was going to have to handle 
Nay.  But if he couldn't put up a credible shield, how could he protect 
himself?

	Later in the afternoon they came upon a road.  It was a simple 
dirt road, like all the others Worth had seen.  It seemed to be heading 
in a general southward direction, so Worth and Dulog took it, even 
though they were increasing their likelihood of being detected.  
Walking by the side of the road would not help, for the land was more 
open here, and there were few trees or tall bushes to hide themselves 
in, as there were near Beech.

	As they walked during the afternoon they came upon another 
figure, walking down the road towards them.  Worth immediately summoned 
his magic, channeling it through his staff in one hand, while his other 
hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

	But the stranger looked innocent enough.  Dressed in simple 
farmer's clothes, he was a middle aged man carrying a live chicken in a 
wire cage.  He looked fearful at first, but when he saw that Worth and 
Dulog looked respectable, his expression grew milder.

	"Hello," said Worth.

	"Howdee," said the fellow.  He continued walking.

	Worth decided to risk further conversation.  "Do you know this 
area?"

	The man stopped, but he seemed a little fearful.  "A little," he 
said.  He had an old shriveled up prune face, one that squinted 
suspiciously at Worth.

	"We're looking for Maytig.  Do you know where that is?"

	The man looked at Worth oddly.  "Ain't nobody lives in Maytig.  
No one who goes there lives, neither."

	"What do you mean?" said Worth sharply.

	"Well, I'm from Tuxton, that's the closest settlement, just down 
the road.  We see visitors passing through, now and then.  Some go to 
Maytig, but no one ever comes from there.  Ain't seen nobody going 
there in years.  If you ask me there's a lot up to no good there."

	"Which way did you say it was?" said Worth, undaunted.

	"Just down the road, way I came.  This is the old Maytig road, it 
will take you all the way there.  But you've a way to go yet.  It's at 
the end of the road, and that's about fifteen miles or so from here."

	Worth nodded.  That meant they would reach it by tomorrow.  
"Thanks for your help.  One more question for you; have you seen any 
strangers in the area?"

	"Just you two," chuckled the farmer.  He headed off, waving to 
them.

	"Just follow the road, he says," said Worth.  "If he's telling 
the truth, there's no way we can miss it."

	"You think he might have reason to lie?"

	"Not particularly," said Worth.  "But I've learned not to be very 
trusting."  He cast a sharp glance at Dulog.  "Come on.  There are a 
couple of hours left before dark."

	When the time came they decided to camp out for the night not far 
from the road.  Worth fretted that they would be visible from the road, 
at least until night fell, but there was no help to it; this was a 
basically an empty land, a region of thinning scrub grass, and there 
was no opportunity for cover.  The best cover would be nightfall, when 
it came.

	Worth sat down after dinner, admiring the sunset.  By tomorrow 
they would know if the farmer had been telling the truth.  There was 
obviously some sort of danger involved, but Worth would be ready.  
Taking a deep breath, he summoned his magic.  He tried again to form a 
shield in front of him.  This time he had better results.  He hadn't 
used his magic all day, and he felt a lot stronger than he had in the 
morning.  A shield formed in front of him.  But there were still gaps 
in it, and closing the gaps were difficult.  It involved a lot of 
effort, and some of the "patches" he made came apart.  But still, it 
was a shield of sorts.  But would it stop magic?  Worth  just didn't 
know.

	As it began to grow dark, Worth wondered what he should do about 
the night watch.  He couldn't stay up all night, not on a regular 
basis.  But Dulog had clearly proven untrustworthy.  The best he could 
do would be to take the first half of the watch and admonish Dulog to 
stay awake.  There shouldn't be any danger at night anyway, Worth 
rationalized.  No one could see them.

	But they could be sensed.  Worth could be sensed.  Nay could 
sense Worth.  Worth could just imagine Nay coming up to him in his 
sleep.  It sent a shiver down his spine.

	"I'll take the first watch, Dulog," said Worth.  And maybe the 
second.  Worth suddenly didn't feel sleepy.

	"Right, Worth," and he settled down.

	Worth peered out at the darkness.  It actually wasn't all that 
dark.  Both moons were out tonight, and they shined down over the area, 
casting a sort of dim light over the grasslands.  Worth could even see 
a little bit into the distance.  Looking out he even thought he saw a 
dot, growing bigger....

	Worth immediately sat up with a jolt.  Someone was coming.

	"Dulog," Worth hissed.

	"What?" said Dulog, immediately sitting up.

	"Someone's coming."

	"Do you want to hide us with your spell?"

	"No," said Worth calmly.  "He's already seen us."

	Indeed, the stranger was heading straight for them.

	Worth summoned his magic.  He found a convenient stick, and set 
it aglow.  That was one skill he had managed to master fairly easily.  
Worth could even manage the intensity of the glow.  Worth made it glow 
brightly, about equivilent to what a small campfire would give off.  It 
would give away their position, but Worth wanted a good look at their 
intruder.  They were in the middle of the countryside, and there was no 
telling who this could be.

	He wore robes, and carried a long staff.  Worth picked up on this 
immediately.  It was a magic user.

	Worth stood up, his magic ready.  One hand held his staff, the 
other his sword.  Whatever this called for, it would not be the sword.  
His magical strength was low, from the evening's practice as well as 
the cumulative stress, but he felt he still had the ability to fight.

	The stranger slowly approached their campsight.  There was a hood 
over his face.  When he had come within twenty feet, Worth said, 
"Halt!"

	The stranger halted.

	"Identify yourself," said Worth.

	"You don't recognize me?" said the stranger.  The voice sounded a 
little raspy, but Worth immediately knew who it was.

	The stranger took off his hood, to reveal the face of Palmer.



	"Palmer!  I thought you were dead!" said Worth joyously.  But he 
did not move forward to embrace his old companion.

	"So did they," said Palmer.  "They weren't aware that I could 
feign death."

	"What happened?" said Worth.  "I just scrambled down the cliff, 
like you told me to.  I heard some sounds, but I didn't see what 
happened," he lied.  "Did you fight Nay?"

	Palmer nodded.  "It was a fierce battle, on a purely magical 
level.  One that I saw I could not win.  Nay was the superior force.  
So I lowered my defenses, just enough to let one of his magical attacks 
shatter it, and then I lay down, suspending my bodily functions."

	"And they just left your body, there on the Battle Plain?"  Worth 
knew they had not.

	Palmer paused.  "No, they dumped me in a marsh a short distance 
away."

	Worth nodded.  It fit.  This really was Palmer!  At first, Worth 
had been suspicious that this might have been an imposter; Nay in 
magical disguise, perhaps.  Worth heaved a small sigh of relief.  But 
he kept asking questions.  "How did you find us?"

	Palmer laughed, "I know where you're going, remember?"

	Nay hadn't known they were going to Maytig, thought Worth.  He 
remembered Nay saying that.

	"To Maytig," said Palmer, smiling.

	Worth smiled too, looking relieved.  This was Palmer!  He was 
overjoyed to have his friend back!  Things were looking up!  He said, 
"How did you get across the Dalias?"

	"Through the magic bridge, of course," said Palmer.

	"Of course," Worth repeated, though there was no of course about 
it..  "Was that you I saw crossing the bridge yesterday morning?  I 
spotted someone crossing the bridge about then."

	"Yes, that was most probably me," said Palmer, looking 
thoughtful.  "I fled south, to escape the Black Daggers."

	"Well, we crossed in the late afternoon, and we didn't get here 
until now," said Worth.  

	"I was detoured by Nay and his men," said Palmer, looking 
serious.

	Well, that must have been rough!  Worth would ask more about it 
later.  But another question came to mind, something else that had been 
nagging Worth.  "So they discovered that you're still alive," Worth 
asked casually.

	"Well, yes," said Palmer.

	Worth paused, and then he broke out into a smile.  "Well, Palmer, 
it's good to have you back.  Are you hungry?"

	"No, not really," said Palmer.  "Just tired, really.  We should 
all get some sleep, I think."  He sat down on the ground, starting to 
make himself comfortable.

	Worth shook his head.  "You're just like Lore.  He never liked to 
eat right before he went to sleep."  He didn't know why he said it; 
Palmer had passed all of his previous tests.  This was the real Palmer.  
Maybe Worth had grown too suspicious.  Maybe he had become paranoid.

	"Yes, that was just like Lore," said Palmer, suddenly sitting up. 
He suddenly looked suspicious.

	Worth looked about calmly.  His expression didn't change, but his 
inner emotions were in turmoil.  "Palmer?"

	"Yes, Worth?"

	"You do not know Lore," said Worth.  He looked him straight in 
the eyes.  Both men slowly got up.

	This also got Dulog's attention; he didn't realize what was going 
on, but he knew enough to scamper out of the way, to the side.

	Worth eyed his opponent.  Funny, Worth thought.  He didn't notice 
Palmer summoning his magic.  Maybe this imposter had no magic.

	"You have one chance," said Worth.  "The truth.  Is the real 
Palmer still alive?"

	Palmer snarled, and then drew a sword that had been hidden inside 
his cloak.  But before it was out of the scabbard Worth had his staff 
aimed at  him, and he sent a bolt of energy that slammed into Palmer's 
shoulder.

	Palmer snarled, grasping his shoulder momentarily.  But, to 
Worth's surprise, he did not fall.  He quickly rushed to Worth and 
grabbed him, tossing him to the ground.

	Worth had been surprised by this sudden attack, but he rolled 
with his fall, just as he had learned in karate training, and he landed 
on his feet.  A second later his sword was drawn.  His magic had faded, 
but he was ready with the sword.

	Palmer snarled, lunging forward.  Worth parried easily, and cut 
down on  Palmer's shoulder, the wounded side. There was a chunky sound, 
and blood started to spurt out of his shoulder.  Blood splattered 
everywhere.  Palmer gave a cry, and fell to the ground.

	"What?" said Dulog incredulously.  For Palmer had changed shape.  
He was now a tall beast, over seven feet in height, very muscular, and 
with very large eyes.  The beast thrashed about on the ground, and then 
laid still.

	"An imposter," said Worth, going closer to investigate.  The 
beast suddenly reached out, pulling at Worth's leg.  Worth fell to the 
ground with a cry.  The creature rolled over to grab Worth by the neck. 
There was a struggle for a second, and then the creature gave a scream, 
falling back onto the ground.

	Worth's sword was buried, up to the haft, in the creature's gut.

	"Playing dead, eh?  Very foxy," said Worth, dusting himself off.

	"Worth!" Dulog cried.  "Are you all right?"

	"Now I am," said Worth.  "Thanks for the help."  He went over to 
the beast, and gave it a good sturdy kick.

	"What was that for?"

	"Just making sure it's dead," said Worth.  "I also derive a good 
deal of satisfaction from it."

	"That's what I thought," said Dulog.  "How did you know that it 
wasn't Palmer?  He looked real enough, and he seemed to know what 
Palmer knew."

	"Wrong.  He only knew what he had been told," said Worth.  But 
how much of what the imposter had said could they believe?  If the 
imposter had crossed the river before Worth did, how did Worth and 
Dulog get here first?  Or had the imposter gotten here first, and 
doublebacked?  Somehow Worth doubted it.  The enemy knew now that he 
was going to Maytig.  He could expect that they would be there, waiting 
for him, if they got there first.

	Then just who had it been crossing that bridge?  For some reason 
Worth thought it important.

	Worth reached over with his staff and dimmed the light enamating 
from the glowing stick.  "You better get some sleep.  I'll wake you 
when it's appropriate."

	"I'm not sure I can sleep now!" said Dulog.

	"This will be your only chance," said Worth.  "You'd better."

	Worth sat down, his back to a log.  He did not feel sleepy 
either.

	Dulog went to sleep.  As he closed his eyes the last thing he saw 
was Worth's face.  He looked incredibly serious.

	When Worth woke Dulog, in the middle of the night, Worth still 
wore the same expression.  He was very concerned about the possibility 
of pursuit.  Did the Black Daggers travel by night?  If he put Dulog on 
watch, he might fall asleep again.  And yet Worth was tired now; how 
could he get some sleep in safety?

	"Are you awake now?" said Worth, in a flat voice, as he made his 
decision.

	"Yes," said Dulog, yawning.

	"Good.  You're on watch until the morning.  Wake me if you see or 
hear anything.  And I mean anything," said Worth.

	Dulog blinked sleepily.  "I will."

	"And if you fall asleep," said Worth,  "I will kill you.  Do you 
understand?"  He said it slowly, and clearly, so there would be no 
misunderstanding.

	Dulog stared at Worth in shock.  It was as if he were talking to 
a different person.  Worth's face was hard, and he was staring at Dulog 
with a mixture of anger and impatience.  He was expecting an answer.  
Dulog was about to argue with him when he saw that expression, and a 
little fear grew in him.

	"Yes, yes, of course," Dulog stammered.

	"Good," said Worth, lying down and closing his eyes.  He did not 
move until morning.



	Worth felt a little better the next day.  It had been a little 
jarring, fighting the image of his friend.  But somehow the light of 
day had lightened his mood.  Dulog hadn't fallen asleep at night, at 
least, not that Worth had been able to detect.  He had promptly woken 
Worth up at sunrise.

	"Good, another day," said Worth, stretching.  He did a doubletake 
when he saw the body of the intruder, which was still lying in the 
campsite.  But after a hasty breakfast they headed down the road.

	The land was silent.  There weren't any birds in the area; even 
the mild wind that brushed by them was quiet.  The loudest noise they 
could hear were their own footsteps.  Worth felt that he just had to 
break the silence.  "Today we get to Maytig.  Our quest is nearly at an 
end."

	"And then what do we do?" said Dulog.

	"We use the rocks to attack Arnagon," said Worth.

	"Where do we find Arnagon?"

	"You don't know?" said Worth.  "It's not common knowledge?"  
Somehow he always imagined that Arnagon would be well guarded, but that 
his location would be well known.

	"Well, it is said he lives in a castle... but no one seems to 
know where it is."

	"A castle is an awfully big thing to hide," said Worth.  "I'll 
bet there's more to it than that.  Anyway, if we have to, we'll get 
Arnagon's location from a Black Dagger. I will delight in interrogating 
one personally."

	"Worth, I'm afraid that the trauma that you've faced has made you 
cruel," said Dulog.

	"Perhaps," said Worth.

	The land was rapidly becoming more barren here.  Even grass did 
not grow.  They could see for miles ahead of them.  There was nothing 
but hard, dry land, leading up to some hills, that were not far ahead.  
It was as if life itself has withered away from this land, never to 
return.

	"It's the desolation of the bad chaos, so it's said," said Dulog.  
"Maytig used to be a flowering paradise.  But when the armies of the 
fell captain were driven south, the land was ripped up, and gravely 
hurt.  Something important, a major battle perhaps, must have occurred 
near here, for the desolation is even worse than that of the Battle 
Plains."

	"But that was 500 years ago," said Worth.

	"Still not everything has healed.  A great deal of the evil was 
destroyed here."

	"I thought it all occurred on the Battle Plain."

	"Well, some of it did," said Dulog.  "Many goblins and servants 
of the enemy perished there.  And the land has suffered.  I'm told that 
it was all once beautiful forest, not just the southern tip.  But here 
was the place where the fell captain and his senior minions fell.  So 
it was said."

	Worth nodded.  Palmer had told him a slightly different story, 
but he got the point:  something important had happened in Maytig.  And 
they were almost there now.  But what would Worth do once he had 
recovered the stones?  Even once he defeated Arnagon?

	He would have to settle down to a life in Koo, most possibly.  It 
seemed like a hostile planet, but maybe that was because Worth had yet 
to see a major population center.  Still, he could make a living here, 
if only by using his unique skill.  Yes, his magic.  He would be more 
poweful here than he had ever been in New York, even as a high priced 
lawyer.

	And yet Worth missed home.   He missed the creature comforts--
cable TV, computer games, the Wall Street Journal, his favorite bagel 
shop, movies, magazines, books, his stereo, all his tapes.... it wasn't 
likely that he would be seeing any of them soon.  Well, at least he was 
single; there wasn't any wife waiting back there for him.  But Worth 
missed home.

     Worth and Dulog stopped for a short break at lunchtime, on the 
side of the road, but neither of them felt like delaying for very long.  
This was not a pleasant land to stay in.  And Worth worried about the 
Black Daggers.  Would he be able to handle them, when the time came?  
During their brief lunch break he had practiced using his shield, and 
he was slowly becoming more proficient.  But even Worth realized that 
his shield was weak, and he wasn't even certain it would stop a magical 
attack--there was no way to test it.

	And then in the early afternoon hours they came upon Maytig.

	They knew they were there because they had reached the end of the 
road.  They also knew they were there because they saw the ruins of a 
large building in front of them.  It was an imposing marble structure, 
supported by two crumbling pillars in the front.  There had been a 
third pillar to the side, but some incredible force had knocked it to 
the ground.

	"What was this place?" said Worth, eyeing the structure.  It was 
covered with dirt, and decay and refuse, and it was obviously long 
abandoned.

	"I'm not sure," said Dulog.  "But I've never seen any structure 
like this.  It looks like something out of the old schoolbooks."

	"What?" said Worth.

	"An old government structure, perhaps," said Dulog.  "From the 
Wayfarer Confederacy, or the Imperium, or maybe even farther back than 
that.  Things were more advanced, in many ways, before the bad chaos."

	Worth nodded.  "Shall we go in?" he said.

	"If we must," said Dulog.  He didn't look very enthusiastic about 
the idea.

	It was definitely darker inside, but light penetrated from the 
many holes in the structure, and they could see, at least a little bit 
ahead of them.

	The entire structure had once been a well furnished place--Worth 
could see a bit of marble flooring under the grime, as well as pieces 
of elegant furniture on the ground.  But they also saw skeletons.  Many 
of them.

	"Where are we going?" said Dulog.

	"That way," said Worth, pointing down a dark passageway.

	"I thought we were going to the quarry."

	"Do you know where the quarry is?"

	"No."

	"Then we keep going in.  The road ended here.  Perhaps it 
continues around the back of the house."

	They entered the dark corridor.  Worth felt uncomfortable with 
the narrow walls surrounding him.  Anything could jump out of a dark 
doorway at him.  He was unpleasantly aware that the Black Daggers could 
be around.  But then he thought about Palmer, and Lore, and anger 
replaced fear.  He would make the Black Daggers pay.  Worth strode 
forward.

	There were a lot of skeletons here, and Worth had to avoid 
stepping over them.  He wondered why a lot of them died here.  And then 
he found out.	

	There was a whining sound, and then Worth was pushed back.  
Startled, he felt ahead with his hands and found an invisible barrier 
blocking their forward path.  He started to turn around, and 
discovered, a few feet behind them, another barrier.

	"We're trapped!" said Dulog, looking scared.

	"So this is why no one ever returned from Maytig," Worth mused, 
as if it were simply an abstract puzzle.

	"We're going to be trapped here forever!" Dulog cried.

	"Not if I can help it," Worth grunted, summoning his magic.  He 
waited until his power was in him.  It surged, and then vibed through 
his body with great energy.  Worth sent a blast against the invisible 
barrier.  It flickered, appearing visible for a moment.

	Worth pressed ahead with his staff, and heard a knocking sound.  
The barrier was still up.  Oh oh.

	Worth frowned.  This was getting serious.  Concentrating, he 
mustered all his power again.

	"We're trapped!" Dulog wailed.

	"Shut up," said Worth.

	He focused all his power through his staff, waiting until he felt 
he had achieved the maximum power accumulation.  Then he cut loose, 
blasting into the invisible barrier in front of them.

	There was a splattering sound, and Worth's beam blasted past the 
barrier, hitting a wall beyond it.  Worth gasped, losing his magic.  
That had cost him a lot.	

	But he took a step foward, unhindered.  "See?" said Worth.  But 
he was tired, now.  He couldn't blast through too many more of these 
types of barriers.  Hopefully these were the only ones.

	They made their way to the rear of the structure.

	Only to find that there was no rear.  The back of the house had 
been blasted.  Worth blinked, seeing the direct rays of the sun for the 
first time since they had entered the house.  Below them on a steep 
incline was a rock quarry pit.  And in one corner of the quarry were 
green rocks.

	"Bingo," said Worth.  He started to slowly slide down the deep 
incline.  If only they had known, they could have come around the side 
of the house without any trouble.  Dulog followed Worth, awkwardly 
sliding down a rock pile.

	When they reached the bottom, Worth saw more skeletons.  But 
these were different from the others in the house.  They were not 
still.

	They started moving as Worth, in the lead, walked towards the 
green rocks.  Worth, alarmed, took several steps back.  The skeletons 
stopped moving.  Worth took several steps forward.  The skeletons 
started stirring again.  Worth took several steps back.  "Conference,"  
he said, bending a crooked finger towards Dulog.

	Dulog approached Worth.

	"Here's the plan," said Worth.  "You're going to gather the rocks 
while I keep the skeletons occupied."

	"Me?  Go there?"

	"I see you understand the essentials of the plan."

	"How many rocks should I get?"

	"Oh," said Worth.  He hadn't thought about that.  "Get a few.  
Five or six, maybe."

	"And where do I put them?  In my hands?"

	"The pack," said Worth, opening it up.  It was still stuffed with 
food.  Worth tossed some of it out.

	"Hey!"

	"That will still leave us enough for a while," said Worth.  "We 
came for the rocks, remember?  And remember, just get the green ones.  
And be as quick as you can.  Now, follow me."

	Worth drew his sword.  His magic, drained by his effort in the 
house, was weak.  Better to use conventional means of defense, if 
possible.

	The skeletons stirred as Worth and Dulog approached.  They were 
struggling to get up.  And some of them were armed.

	Worth ran forward, chooping a skeleton who was attempting to 
stand upright.  His sword hit the creature's collarbone and clanged 
off.  If these skeletons were hundreds of years old, the bones were in 
remarkably good condition.  Worth landed another blow, on the rib cage, 
and his blade bounced off again, although the skeleton fell to the 
ground.  But several others were standing upright now.

	"Dulog, hurry!" said Worth, glancing at his companion.  Dulog was 
at an outcropping of green rock, and rapidly stuffing several of the 
gems in the backpack.

	A skeleton approached Dulog from behind, and raised a sword 
menacingly.

	"Shit!" said Worth, summoning his magic.  He aimed his staff, and 
sent a blast over Dulog's head that struck the skeleton in the chest.  
It fell to the ground, crumbling into pieces.  Good.  They could be 
stopped.

	But Worth felt his magic weakening, and he didn't want to use it 
all up, unless absolutely necessary.  Dulog saw the skeletons 
approaching, and squealed, "Worth!"

	"Keep packing them in!" Worth cried, drawing his sword again.  He 
ran up to a menacing skeleton who stabbed at him with a rusted sword 
before Worth could attack.  Worth dodged out of the way, and the sword 
swung through empty air.  Worth hacked back, but the skeleton ducked.  
They had good reflexes, for dead people.

	Worth struck again, more quickly this time, and landed a blow on 
the skeleton's chest.  He made sure to put some push into it, so the 
skeleton toppled over, falling to the ground.  Worth didn't even stay 
to watch it get up again, because two other skeletons were closing in, 
and still others were approaching.

	"Got them!" cried Dulog, closing the pack.  He tried to put it on 
his back, but the pack was so heavy that it collapsed to the ground.

	"Then come on!" said Worth, hitting another skeleton to the 
ground.  He ran to where Dulog was still trying to lift the pack.  
"Never mind that," said Worth, grabbing a strap. "Pull!"  And pull they 
did, dragging the pack up the steep incline.  The skeletons slowly 
followed.

	It was tough work, dragging the pack up the heavy incline, but 
the pursuing skeletons gave Worth and Dulog incentive to do their best.  
They had nearly reached the top when Worth spied a skeleton coming down 
from the rim of the quarry.

	Worth let go of the pack, leaving it for Dulog to pull it up the 
rest of the way himself, and Worth drew his sword again.  The skeleton 
swished at Worth with a sword, missing him by a comfortable margin.  
Worth got in close, and pushed the skeleton into the pit with a wack of 
his sword.

	Dulog was still pulling the pack up the incline.  Suddenly, he 
looked exhausted, and the strap started to slip from his fingers.  The 
pack was going to fall back into the quarry!  Worth leapt over, 
literally grabbing the strap just as an exhausted Dulog let go.  Worth 
grabbed the pack, and, with a tremendous exertion of strength, lifted 
it on to his back. It was heavy, but managable. 

	"Let's go," he said.

	They started off at a fast walk.   Frequent glances behind them 
confirmed that the skeletons were not following them.  They had just 
walked around the side of the old house when they saw them.

	Three horses.  And from behind them came their riders.  Three 
men, dressed in black leather.  And armed.

	Worth slowly put down the pack.  "Stay behind me," he said.

	The Black Daggers grinned, drawing their swords.  They didn't 
know who they were facing, but they had seen Worth and Dulog scrambling 
out of the quarry, and they had a pretty good idea what they had been 
doing. Arnagon now knew the danger of the green rocks.

	But the Black Daggers were surprised to see Worth approaching 
him.  People did not boldly come forward to Black Daggers; people fled, 
in terror.  They saw he carried a staff, but they were not frightened.  
This would be the new magic user.  The untrained one.

	But if they were not frightened of Worth, he was not frightened 
by them.  He saw that Nay was not present.  Without Nay the Black 
Daggers were mere hoods.  He summoned his magic.  It wasn't very 
strong, but it would suffice, for these three.

	"I'll give you one chance," said Worth simply.  "Leave, on foot, 
now."

	The Black Daggers laughed.  "Perhaps we need to teach you a 
lesson," said one, approaching Worth with a sword.  "Although our 
master will want to teach you many others, and his master still more," 
said their spokesman.

	Worth stabbed out with his staff, sending a burst of energy 
against the Black Dagger spokeman.  It punctured his gut and came out 
the other side.  The Black Dagger was dead before he hit the ground.

	"Now, I am a little tired," said Worth, turning to the remaining 
two.  "Killing the two of you would tire me more.  Doubtless you both 
deserve it, but I'm giving you a chance.  What's your decision?"

	Both Black Daggers had raised their weapons when they saw their 
companion fall.  But now a fear was in their eyes; never before had 
they encountered such a grim opponent.  Nor such a deadly one.  They 
lowered their weapons and started to turn away.

	"Guys?" said Worth.

	The Black Daggers turned around.

	"I've changed my mind.  You're going to die anyway."  Worth 
launched two bursts of energy, one after the other, that perforated the 
Black Daggers.  They screamed, falling to the ground.

	Worth staggered; firing that final bolt of energy had been 
difficult.  He should have conserved his energy.  But he had been 
angry.  The Black Daggers had killed Palmer.  The Black Daggers had 
killed Lore.   The Black Daggers had chased him all across the land.  
Worth had had enough of them.  This was only the beginning of the 
payback Worth owed them.

	Dulog said, "Worth!  That wasn't very honorable!  You killed them 
after promising not to."

	"Shut up," said Worth.  He looked down at the Black Daggers, 
lying in their own pools of blood.  Then he started to go through their 
pockets and equipment.

	"Ah," said Worth, taking one of the satchels.  He slowly but 
carefully transferred the Maytig rocks into a satchel, and then handed 
the pack to Dulog.  "You carry the food, I carry the rocks.  Adequate 
division of labor, hm?"  But when he tried to life them, the rocks 
still felt heavy.  Just what kind of rocks were these?

	Worth resumed his search of the Black Dagger bodies, checking 
their pockets and saddlebags.  He found one piece of paper which made 
him smile.  "Bingo!"

	"What?" said Dulog.

	"I've found a map," said Worth.  

	Dulog looked over his shoulder.  "It's the region around the 
Lower Threstles."

	Worth studied the map for the moment, taking in the relative 
location of Maytig, the Dalias, and Maple.  It was a rough map, drawn 
of some dark ink, and the paper it was made from was old, very old.  
But the map itself was clear.  "Odd.  Something's missing from this 
map."

	"What?" said Dulog.

	"The location of their hideout," said Worth.  "Anyway, time to 
figure that out later.  Now we'd better get going."  He mounted one of 
the Black Dagger's horses.	

	"Go?  Where are we going?" said Dulog.

	"To Maple, for a start.  I gather it's the biggest town in the 
region?"

	"It's the capital of all the Lower Threstles," said Dulog, 
puffing his chest.

	"Fine," said Worth.  "We'll go there, and coordinate our plans.  
That's where Lore wanted me to go anyway."  But that was to find 
Palmer.  And Palmer would not be there.  "We'd better be going.  I'm 
out of magic, and it's a sure bet that Nay and the Black Daggers aren't 
far."

	They started off, heading over the empty countryside.  Now that 
he had a map, Worth was not so worried about getting lost.  Originally, 
Worth had headed nearly straight south from Beech, through the Battle 
Plain and over the Dalias to get to Maytig.  Maple was to the west of 
Beech, so by going roughly north by northwest they would quickly hit 
Maple.

	And quickly was the word for it.  Their steeds were swift, quite 
swift, making Worth wonder why all the Black Daggers had not been 
waiting for him at Maytig.  They must be spread out over all the 
countryside, waiting for him.  Worth made for a nearly straight route 
north to the river, as best as he could, but he continually curved a 
little to the west.  Worth felt good as they rode over the empty 
landscape.  He even felt himself starting to recover some of his magic.  
He enjoyed feeling the breeze in his face, the feeling of speed, the 
feeling that they were leaving this desolate land.  Worth had gone 
horseback riding before in upstate New York, and he found himself 
fairly skilled in guiding his steed.  Dulog did not seem to be having 
any trouble guiding his steed either.

	Towards the latter half of the afternoon they reached the river.  
They didn't see any bridges at this point, but they rode west.  The 
foliage around the river was much more pleasant, with grass and trees 
dotting the riverbank, and for a time Worth forgot his worries.  They 
had a pleasant time riding along, until they spotted a bridge, a wooden 
affair spanning the river.  Worth looked at his watch.  5:00.  Good. 
They could even get in another hour of riding once they crossed.

	Then they got close to the bridge, and saw several individuals 
blocking the way.  Several small individuals.

	The gnomes.

	"Oh no," Worth cried.

	"Ten gold pieces, ten gold pieces per person," the gnomes 
cackled.  "Pay up, pay up!"

	"Wait!" said Worth.  He checked through the saddle bags, and 
motioned for Dulog to do the same.  "I've got... four gold and three 
silver here."

	"I have two gold and ten silver in mine," said Dulog.

	"Not good enough, not good enough," the gnomes repeated.  "Ten 
gold, ten gold, pay up, pay up or leave!"

	Anger flashed in Worth's eyes.  "Why you-"

	Dulog put a restraining arm on Worth.  "Worth, we can keep 
riding, looking for another bridge."

	"What's the point?  Either them or their cousins will be waiting 
for us," said Worth.  Then he saw something in the distance which made 
his eyes widen.

	Horsemen.  On the same side of the river as they were.  
Approaching at breakneck speed.  And although it was too far to see 
them, Worth could almost feel the first stirrings of terror within him.  
Nay.  And Worth was nearly out of magic.  They had to cross here, and 
now.

	Worth was firm.  "We're crossing now," h said, turning his horse 
towards the bridge.

	"No crossing!" said the gnomes, drawing their short swords.

	Worth concentrated, summoning his magic.  Some of his ability had 
regenerated, at least enough for what he had in mind.  Aiming his 
staff, he sent a spectacular bolt of energy at the railing on the 
bridge, turning a chunk of it into a smoky ruin.

	"You were saying?" said Worth, staring  at the gnomes with an 
oddly unfocused look.

	"Cross! Free cross!  Free cross!" the gnomes suddenly insisted.  
"Be our guest.  Go at once." They chattered nervously, putting away 
their swords.

	"Why thank you," said Worth, getting off his horse as he prepared 
to lead it over on foot.  He looked behind him.  The horsemen were 
getting closer now.

	But as Worth walked by the gnomes he paused to whisper something 
in their ears.  The gnomes leaned forward to hear what Worth had to 
tell them.

	"Heh heh heh," said Worth, as the gnomes, alarmed, recoiled.

	When Worth and Dulog had crossed the bridge, Dulog said, "Worth?  
Aren't you going to saddle up?  We have to get out of here!"

	Worth was standing, unmoving, as the horsemen made their approach 
to the bridge.  He could see now that it was indeed the Black Daggers.  
Worth recognized one of them, a Black Dagger who bore a black helmet.  
In a minute or two they would reach the bridge.

	"Wait," said Worth.  "The Black Daggers must not be allowed to 
cross."  He summoned his magic again.  It was weak.  Worth tried to 
focus it in his staff, building it up.  It had a concentrating effect.  
He might have enough power to do the trick.

	"You're going to destroy the bridge!" Dulog realized.  "You're 
going to destroy their livelihood!"

	"Let'm eat cake," said Worth, just before he sent a bolt into the 
center of the bridge.

	There was an enormous creak, and a large hole appeared in the 
center of the bridge.  The gnomes screamed in agony, as if a part of 
them were being destroyed.  Worth smiled.

	But the bridge was still intact.  Worth tisked.  "They sure built 
them good in the old days," he said.  He measured his strength.  He 
could launch one, perhaps two more good solid energy bolts.  He moved 
down the bank to get a clear view of the supports.  Aiming carefully, 
he launched a bolt at a main support.

	The support trembled, crumbling.  The bridge tilted, creaking.  
But it still stood.

	The Black Daggers, galloping furiously, were almost at the 
bridge.

	Worth took a deep breath.  He felt his magical strength nearly at 
an end.  Aiming carefully, he fired off one last shot.

	Immediately he felt it was not as strong as the previous one.  
But perhaps it wouldn't have to be.  It struck the weakend support with 
a loud bang.

	There was a silence for a moment. The bridge stood, intact.

	Then there was an enormous creaking, and the center part of the 
bridge, a span of perhaps twenty five feet, collapsed.

	The gnomes cried out.  Worth waved to them from across the river.  
The Black Daggers arrived.  Nay stood at the bank, glaring at him.  
Worth waved to him too.

	Nay pointed his staff, and a bolt of energy shot out at Worth.  
But it fell short, landing in the water, causing a large splash.  Worth 
did not even get wet.

	Nay said something to one of his Black Daggers.  A Black Dagger, 
still mounted on his horse, climbed upon the bridge, starting down it.

	Worth suddenly put his staff away and drew his sword, climbing 
onto his side of the bridge.  He could take them on, one on one, if 
necessary.  As long as it wasn't Nay.

	The Black Dagger accelerated, gaining speed.  He spurred his 
horse to jump, just before he reached the gap.  The horse flew through 
the air-

	-and fell short, landing in the space in the middle of the 
bridge.  Both horse and horsemen landed in the river, and started to be 
carried downstream by the vigorous current.

	Worth could not help but laugh as he watched the Black Dagger, 
arms flailing, as he was carried down the river.

	"Poor fool," Dulog muttered.

	"With heavy emphasis on 'fool'," chuckled Worth.  He mounted his 
horse.  "Now we go.  Ah, I feel good."  And Worth started to whistle a 
light tune as they went.


Chapter X:  Massacre



	They stopped for the night in a small wooded grove just off of a 
road they had found.  They had made good time with their horses.  Worth 
and Dulog studied the map Worth had taken from the Black Daggers.  
Worth used a glowing stick to allow them to see the map more clearly.

	"I think we've come far enough west to avoid the Battle Plains 
entirely," said Worth, munching on an apple.  "But we'll have to go 
over this hilly area here." 

	"Yes, the Warklutans," said Dulog.  "I am familiar with them  The 
hills are not very high, and there is a road that goes through them."

	Worth nodded.  "Then I see some open plains, and some dots.  
Those are villages?"

	"Yes," said Dulog.  "Plum and Stem and several others, leading up 
to Willow.  Once we get out of the Warklutans, we will pass these 
villages on the way to Maple."

	"I see," said Worth.  Then, he noticed a small forest on the map, 
bordering the Warklutans as well as several of the villages.  "What's 
that?"

	"The Woodlings," said Dulog, with a shiver.  "Very dangerous.  
Inhabited by a group of warlike savages."

	"Warlike savages.  Hm.  Good thing we don't have to go near 
them," said Worth, putting the map away.  He would have liked to 
practice raising his magical shield, but he felt his power totally 
drained.  Not just magically but physically.  He felt very very tired.  
He wasn't getting enough sleep; half a night simply was not enough.  
And yet they could not afford to pause very long.  The Black Daggers 
would surely find a way to cross the river, sooner or later.  And they 
were still hunting for Worth.

	"Dulog, you mind taking the first watch?" said Worth, yawning.

	"No," said Dulog.

	"Fine," said Worth, extinguishing the glowing stick and leaning 
back.  "Wake me up in the middle of the night."

	Worth suddenly sat up.  He had nearly forgotten something.  "And 
Dulog?"

	"Yes?"

	"You know what will happen to you if you don't."  Worth made a 
gesture of cutting a throat.

	Dulog exploded.  "Worth!  You are simply mean and irritable.  I 
half believe you would really kill me if I accidently fell asleep on 
watch."

	 Worth's face grew serious.  Deadly serious.  "Only half 
believe?" said Worth, with an iron tone.

	"You've been acting terribly cruel, ever since we've lost Palmer.  
You killed those Black Daggers for no good reason, and you destroyed 
that bridge wantonly."

	"You shed tears for the Black Daggers?" said Worth.  "It's my 
impression that they were in on the sacking of Beech, and probably 
several other villages by now.  They're rotten to the core.  That's why 
they're Black Daggers."

	"But you were so... unsporting."

	"Would they have been sporting to us, if they had the superior 
power?  I think not.  As for the bridge, those extortionist gnomes 
deserved it.  They've been having a good laugh at my expense ever since 
I got to Kroo."

	"That's Koo."

	"Whatever," said Worth.  "Nighty night.  See you in a few hours."

	It took Worth only a few minutes to fall asleep. As he did he 
felt a glow of satisfaction.  Finally, he was beginning to settle some 
scores.  He felt like he was striking a blow for the good guys.

	In a way, that's what he always wanted to do; that was why he had 
decided to become an attorney.  To help the good guys, to bring justice 
to the side of the deserving.  And yet, when Worth had gotten stuck in 
the trenches of corporate law, something had been lost....  Had he 
become too cruel?  Had he, in his eagerness to dispense justice, been 
too harsh in his actions?  Worth pondered that as his mind became more 
and more drowsey.  Perhaps his experiences had changed him.  But he 
never doubted that the Black Daggers deserved it....

	The next day they started on the road again.  Worth spent a few 
minutes trying to perfect his shield, but he was still too tired from 
his magical exertions of the previous day, and his magic quickly faded.

	Worth and Dulog quickly approached some hills in the distance.  
They were lush, green things, filled with trees and living growths. 

	"The Warklutans, I presume," said Worth allowing himself a small 
smile.

	They rode further, looking behind them from time to time, but 
there was no sign of pursuit.  Worth figured that the Black Daggers 
must have crossed the river by now.  But apparently they hadn't caught 
up with him.

	Or had they?  Worth suddenly spied a troop of horsemen, heading 
down at them from the north.

	Worth looked about.  There was no obvious place for them to hide.  
And he doubted he could cloak two horses as well as Dulog and himself.  
Their only option would be to run.

	Worth turned his horse around, then stopped.  He didn't get the 
same feeling of fear he always did before Nay appeared.  It could be 
the goblins, it might even be a troop of Black Daggers, but Nay wasn't 
among them.

	Still, they might be hostile.  Worth was struck with indecision.  
Should they flee?

	Dulog peered at the approaching riders, and a smile broke out on 
his face.  "They're ours!  They're Maple militiamen!  Over here, over 
here!"

	Worth turned to face them again.  It was a troop of men, fair 
haired, all mounted.  As they closed Worth's hand strayed to his staff, 
but otherwise he did nothing.

	The troop stopped a short distance away and their leader, 
accompanied by an escort, approached them.  The leader was a tall, 
thinning man.  "Who might you be?" he said guardedly, his hand on the 
hilt of his sword.

	"We are travellers," said Worth guardedly.  No need to reveal 
more than necessary, even if these were allies.

	"Rellac, don't you remember me?" said Dulog, coming forward.  
"It's me, Dulog!"

	"Dulog?" said the one called Rellac, looking surprised.  Then his 
look turned to disgust.  "Dulog, what are you doing all the way down 
here?  You're perilously close to the Battle Plain, you know.  There 
are goblins patrolling everywhere."

	"I know, but I was on an important mission.  There are these 
rocks at Maytig, see, that will defeat Arnagon-"

	"Dulog!" said Worth sharply.  There was no need to announce 
everything, in front of all these strange men.  Their mission was 
supposed to be confidential.

	Rellac eyed Worth.  "I do not know you."  He immediately noticed 
Worth's staff, and he raised an eyebrow speculatively.

	"I am Worth," said Worth simply.  "I am from a far away land-"

	"And he is a wizard, a most powerful one," added Dulog.

	Worth sent him a murderous glance, one that caused Dulog to 
instinctively cringe.

	"Two in one day," said Rellac.  "That is most unusual."

	Worth was intrigued by that statement.  Two in one day?  But, 
looking back over his shoulder, he said, "We would love and stay and 
talk, but we're being pursued by Black Daggers, and we've got to get 
out of here."

	 A hush fell over the troop. "Black Daggers, you say," said 
Rellac.  "You must be important indeed.  Where were you headed?"

	Worth sighed.  There was no avoiding this question now.  "To 
Maple."  There.  Now everyone would know.  If there was a spy in that 
group, then soon the Black Daggers would know as well.

	"Well, we will take you back then," said Rellac.  "I was going to 
take the scouting company back once we reached the river, but we have 
much to report on, and your need seems dire, if I judge your peril 
correctly. Come!"

	Scouting company?  Worth counted only two dozen men.  If this was 
a company, than the army of Maple couldn't be very large.  It was not 
an encouraging sign.	

	Still, it was good to have an escort of any size, especially in 
these dangerous lands, and Worth welcomed them.  For a time they rode 
slowly, Worth and Dulog riding next to Rellac, and they chatted.

	"You said I was the second magic user that you saw today," said 
Worth.  "I thought the only other magic user in the Lower Threstles was 
Palmer."

	"You know of Palmer?" said Rellac sharply.

	"He was our companion," said Worth simply.

	"Was?  Where is he now?  He was too report before the council, 
but is overdue."

	"He died, at the hands of the Black Daggers," said Dulog.

	A murmur spread over the troop.  This was evidently a bitter blow 
to the Maplemen.

	"This is indeed grave news," said Rellac.  "Palmer was our 
leading bulwark of defense.  I would have traded several companies of 
our regular guard for his assistance."

	"But you spoke of another magic user," Worth persisted.

	"Yes, I did," said Rellac, looking around at his men.  He spoke 
in a loud voice.  "We stop now, for the afternoon meal.  But be quick 
about it!  I expect to be on the road in the next hour.  If we are 
being pursued, we must get over the Warklutans as soon as possible."

	Guards were posted, food was laid out, and Rellac had a private 
meal with Worth and Dulog.  Worth eagerly dug into buttered biscuits 
and slices of meat while Rellac talked with them.

	Rellac spoke in a softer voice.  "You asked me before of the 
other magic user.  There are some matters that I would not bandy about, 
even in front of my men.  Yes, you are the second magic user I have 
seen today.  The first was Whyse of the Wind."

	"Whyse!" said Worth.

	"You know of him also?" said Rellac sharply.

	"Perhaps," said Worth.  "What does he look like?"

	That was the most important question.  If Rellac said a middle 
aged man with a long brown beard wearing a flowing robe, Worth would 
know that Whyse was Lore, that Lore was still alive, and that he, 
Worth, had unknowingly been in the company of one of the most powerful 
wizards in all of Koo.

	"Whyse?  A young man, perhaps not much older than yourself.  He 
had straight, black hair, combed to the side," said Rellac.  Seeing the 
disappointment on Worth's face, he said, "This is not the one you 
knew?"

	"No," said Worth.  "I knew another magic user named Lore.  He 
gave his life to protect me from the Black Daggers."

	"Another magic user?  Here, in the Lower Threstles?  Hm, I have 
not heard of that.  We were told to expect Whyse of the Wind, but none 
other.  Perhaps aid has come unlooked for from unexpected quarters."  
Rellac took a deep breath.  "But come, tell me of your story.  You say 
that you have been to the quarry at Maytig, where no one now goes, and, 
I guess, at great peril, have retrieved some of its rock.  But how does 
that help us in the fight against the fell captain?"

	"I'm not sure," said Worth.  "Lore understood.  He read it in an 
old book in Beech.  We went there, after it was sacked."  He shivered, 
recalling the memory.  That was where Lore fell.  But he continued.   
"Apparently the rocks can harm Arnagon, so the book said.  The problem 
is I don't even know where to find this fell captain."

	Rellac lowered his voice even further.  "Our more immediate task 
is staying alive.  The Battle Plain is alive with goblins.  They have 
been stirred up, like ants by a stick, and are roaming around, slaying 
all they catch.  Many are under the sway of Arnagon, and it is only a 
matter of time before they are all banded together, and more of our 
villages are attacked.  Villagers are fleeing by the hundreds into 
Maple.  First Beech has fallen, and now Plum.  And I am afraid that in 
our absence other villages have fallen as well.  We will defend Maple 
as best we can, but we are not a fort, we have no defensive walls.  Our 
militia, I'm sorry to say, is not for the most part as well equipped or 
trained as my company.  Few dare venture forth on the open roads 
nowadays.  If you have determined a way of defeating Arnagon, I will do 
everything in my power to aid you."

	"Thank you," said Worth.  "That is a good comfort."

	"But tell me this:  precisely how did Palmer fall?  For we were 
friends, and I would know."

	Worth looked uncomfortable.  "He died defending us.  We had just 
fled south through the Battle Plain-"

	"The Battle Plain!  How did you elude the goblins?"

	"We didn't; not entirely, anyway," said Worth.  "But we got to 
the end of the plain, in the south, and Palmer held off the Black 
Daggers, until we could escape."

	"And the Black Daggers bested Palmer with their swords?" said 
Rellac.  The question seemed to be a test of some sort.

	"No," said Palmer.  "With their magic.  Nay was with them."

	"Nayorshoran!" said Rellac the blood draining from his face. 
"That is a name until today that I have only heard of in the history 
texts.  But I should have expected it.  The lieutenant of the fell 
captain has also returned.  And they were chasing you?  And you eluded 
them?  And Palmer fell, allowing you to escape."  His face grew 
unreadable for a moment, as he considered these matters.

	Then Rellac sat up.  "I can see that you have gone through 
difficult times.  We will help you, as best as we can, as I have said.  
But tell me, are you also a powerful wizard?"

	"I'm not bad," said Worth.  He didn't know how to handle such a 
question; that was the best answer he could give.

	"Is he ever!  He destroyed a bridge with his power!" said Dulog.

	"A bridge!" said Rellac.  "Well, then, your coming to Maple is 
fortuitous.  For we are now left without a magic user.  We can use your 
help, Worth."

	'Thanks, I'll help in any way that I can," said Worth.  "But what 
about this Whyse of the Wind?  Isn't he supposed to be a greater 
wizard?"

	"He is, so they say, and perhaps the powerful, though I do not 
rightly know.  But he would not tell us his errand, and spoke little to 
us, only stopping to ask if we had seen sign of the Black Daggers."  
Rellac paused, as if remembering something.  "I implored him to come 
with us to Maple, but he only gave a tense smile and said, 'Maybe, 
maybe, when I am ready.  But I am needed more urgently elsewhere.', 
though where he is more urgently needed, I do not know."

	"Very interesting," said Worth.  He hoped he would get the chance 
to meet this Whyse some day.  Worth had more than an academic interest:  
if this Whyse was indeed so powerful, perhaps he could send Worth back 
to Earth.  But first things first; Arnagon must be defeated.  Lore had 
been right in saying that Worth wouldn't be safe until Arnagon was 
vanquished.  And if necessary Worth would do the job himself.

	They rode for a day, without incident.  For once Worth could 
enjoy the luxury of sleeping an entire night without having to serve a 
watch.  Rellac posted guards around their encampment who rotated among 
themselves.

	But they did not light a campfire at night; they realized that 
they were very much in dangerous territory, and a nightfire was like a 
beacon that could bring the enemy to them.  And then Worth remembered 
the campfire he had seen near the magical bridge.  Who would be so 
confident as to build a campfire in proximity to all those goblins and 
Black Daggers?  Whyse of the Wind?  Could he be the one who killed all 
those goblins?  Could he be the one that Worth saw crossing the magical 
bridge?  That seemed likely now.  But what was this Whyse doing in the 
area?

	Of course!  Worth suddenly understood.  He was going for the 
rocks too!  For once Worth felt some comfort.  He wasn't alone on his 
mission.  It was just a hunch, but perhaps Whyse would do Worth's job 
for him.  That would be an irony; all Worth's efforts would have been 
for nothing.

	But until Worth was certain that Whyse was on the same mission, 
and that he had actually defeated Arnagon, Worth proceed with his 
quest, as if this Whyse character did not even exist.  The stakes were 
too high.  Rellac had told him that the goblins had already overrun 
another village near Beech.  Before long the whole of the Lower 
Threstles would be in danger.  The time to act was now.

	The next day the company rode through the Warklutan hills.  The 
hills themselves were not very tall, but the path through them was 
narrow, and Worth gazed uneasily at the steep earthen walls around the 
path.  He looked up the inclines at the hills above.  This would be 
prime ambush country, he thought.

	He was right.  They were ambushed, that very afternoon.

	The first sign they heard of it was the sounds of rocks, rumbling 
down the hill in front of them.  And then, a few seconds later, rocks 
falling down behind them as well.  The horses screamed, and several 
riders were thrown.  When the smoke cleared the passage in either 
direction was blocked, by small but significant barriers of rocks.  And 
then the screams started.  Goblins , yelling at the top of their lungs, 
ran down the sharp inclines, brandishing swords.   They rushed up on 
the riders, some of whom barely had time to dismount and draw their 
swords. There were dozens of goblins, all streaming down the hillsides.  

	The company prepared itself for the onslaught.  "Protect Worth at 
all costs," shouted Rellac.  He didn't know for certain if Worth could 
help them, but he didn't want to take the risk of losing him.

	Worth dismounted from his horse, summoning his magic.  He felt 
more powerful than he had ever been.  But intuition told him to save 
his magic.  He put his staff in his belt, and drew his sword.

	The goblins came streaming down the hillside at the company, some 
yelling "Nalcar!  Nalcar!" as they brandished their weapons.  Steel 
clanged on steel as they engaged the Maplemen.  The soldiers of Maple 
were holding their own, stabbing out at the goblins that were so eager 
to attack that they paid little attention to defending themselves.

	Several Maplemen fell, but many more goblins did.  The Maple 
militia must have slew twice its numbers before the goblins, shrieking, 
started retreating up the hill.  The Maplemen cut down several of those 
trying to escape, and gave a cheer when the last one scrambled up the 
hill.

	"Good work, men!" said Rellac.  "Now let's clear the path of 
rocks so we can get on our way!"

	"It's not going to be that easy, Rellac," said Worth, feeling a 
chill.  He looked up, and saw a lone figure standing on the hilltop.  A 
figure wearing a black helmet.  Nay.

	Worth feared that he was going to shower them with foul magic.  
But Nay didn't need to.  He whistled, and a new troop of goblins 
stepped forward on the hilltop.  And they all carried bows.

	"Get down!" Worth cried, hitting the ground.  In seconds the path 
was filled with flying arrows.  Maplemen screamed as they fell, pierced 
by black tipped arrows.  Even horses were hit by the indiscriminate aim 
of the goblins; many of them cried out as they were slaughtered.

	Worth knew he had to get out of here.  There was nothing he could 
do to help the Maplemen against so many goblins.  Keeping low, he 
pulled the heavy satchel containing the Maytig rocks.  He slowly made 
for the rock barrier in front of the company.  Arrows flew around like 
angry gnats.  One whizzed by, scraping his shoulder.

	Worth heard a cry, and saw Rellac, pierced in the throat by an 
arrow, fall to the ground.  He stared at Worth, an expression of pure 
agony on his face, as he fell to the ground.

	Worth shuddered, and started climbing the rock barrier.  It was 
not high, perhaps only three or four feet, but he was terribly exposed 
in doing so.  His task was not made easier by the need to carry this 
heavy satchel.

	A goblin bowman spotted him attempting to flee, and aimed an 
arrow, one of which pierced his satchel.  Worth had just reached the 
top of the rock barrier and was about to jump down as another arrow 
pierced his left arm.

	"Aaaah!" Worth cried, falling down the other side.  The pain was 
tremendous, and he saw he was bleeding.  But he forced himself to get 
up, and, dragging the satchel, shuffled off.  A few more arrows were 
aimed at him, but they missed, and Worth soon was out of their reliable 
bowrange.

	But not out of the range of others.  Suddenly, there was a blast 
in the ground next to him.  Worth looked up.  That was no arrow shot!  
It was Nay.  He was standing, on top of a hill, with his staff pointed 
down, straight at Worth, like the barrel of a gun.

	The arrow that was stuck in Worth's arm hurt him tremendously.  
But he ignored that, and summoned his magic. Dropping the satchel for a 
moment he raised his staff, and fired off a strong bolt at Nay.  The 
magical energy struck Nay, and there was a brilliant flash.

	Nay, caught by surprise, staggered back, out of view.

	Worth knew this was his only chance.  He picked up the satchel 
and ran forward.  Ahead he could see a narrow dirt path, between two 
hills, intersecting with the side of the road.  If he could get there 
before Nay returned, he might escape.

	He dragged the satchel, aware that time was passing.  There were 
no more sounds of screaming or arrow fire now.  Everyone in the company 
must be dead.  Worth turned off the road, darting into the bushes of 
the little path.  He went a few dozen feet on, and then collapsed, 
hiding behind  a large bush.

	The pain was just too great.  He couldn't go on.

	For a while, Worth lost consciousness.  He awoke to the sounds of 
talking.

	"Where is he?"

	"Master thinks he might have turned off here."

	"Master angry, very angry."

	"Yes, did you see him hit by the Maple wizard?  He was so 
surprised he nearly fell to the ground, looking like a fool."

	"Careful what you say about the Master.  Black Daggers, all 
around, hear what you say."

	"I'd be more concerned about this mighty wizard."

	The sounds of footsteps grew closer.

	"Hey, I see blood on the ground."

	Worth looked through the bush he was behind.  He could see two 
goblins approaching.

	"Where?"

	Worth tried to summon his magic.  But he failed; the pain in his 
arm was too distracting.

	"Here.  There's a little, on the ground."

	The footsteps got closer.  In a few seconds the goblin would find 
him.

	Worth tried to relax.  He felt his magic flowing towards him.  He 
tried to feel out the natural lay of the ground around him....

	"The trail seems to end here."

	A goblin looked behind the bush that Worth was hiding.

	"No sign of him."

	"He must have stopped the bleeding.  He must be down the path.  
Come on."

	Worth waited a minute for the sounds of the goblins to recede.  
Then he collapsed the magical field.  That had been a close one.

	Worth studied his wound.  It was still bleeding.  He couldn't 
even stop the bleeding until he got the arrow out.  And until he 
stopped the bleeding he couldn't move; he would leave a trail that even 
the stupidest of goblins could find.

	Worth grit his teeth, taking a firm grip on the arrow.  He gave a 
sharp pull, and it came out, with a jolt of incredible pain.  Worth 
stifled a cry.  

	The blood was pouring out more freely now, and Worth was in 
danger of losing consciousness again.  That he knew he must not allow.  
He ripped of part of his shirt and used it to tie his wound.  But the 
bleeding was still continuing.  Worth had to do something.

	Healing.  He seemed to remember Lore mentioning something about 
healing.  It had been after the attack by the muddites.  Worth hadn't 
been seriously hurt, but Lore had seemed to imply that if he had been, 
that the wizard could have healed him.  With magic.

	Breathing deeply, Worth summoned his magic.  It flickered, but it 
came.  He let it flow through his body.  The pain in his arm seemed a 
little less intense.  Worth concentrated the flow, thinking about his 
wounded arm.  Worth thought about the natural flow of his arm both 
above and below the wound.  He thought about it, feeling its pattern.  
Then he attempted to replicate that pattern, at least in the hurt area.

	To his amazement Worth saw a glow in his wounded area, beneath 
the dressing.  And then his magic faded.  Worth loosened the 
intervening cloth and looked at the wound.  Most of the blood on the 
surface had clotted.  He may not have healed himself, but he had 
stopped the bleeding.

	Worth slowly got up, wincing.  Every movement was pure pain for 
his arm, which was still incredibly tender.  But he could walk.  
Hefting his satchel over his right shoulder, he started out.

	Worth immediately left the path and started up the hillside, 
careful to watch for goblins combing the path.  At one point he saw two 
of them, but they didn't see him.  Worth slinked from tree to tree, 
until he was fairly sure he was out of their search zone.  He kept 
going as far as he could, until he collapsed on the ground.

	


Chapter XI:  The Woodlings



	When Worth recovered consciousness the next morning the first 
thing he did was curse.  He could have been discovered.  It was 
irresponsible of him to collapse.  He rolled over on his left shoulder.

	And then jumped up, yelping with pain.  He instinctively summoned 
his magic.  It was much stronger again.  He let it flow through the 
wound, and attempted to repair the harm.  After a time Worth felt the 
pain lessen to managable levels.  But he also felt that he wasn't 
fundamentally healing the wound.  His left hand was fully functional 
but he could barely move his left arm.  Obviously there had been muscle 
damage.

	Great.  Maybe he should go back to the Talsall nymph.  She would 
heal him readily enough.  Of course, he would never be able to escape a 
second time....

	Worth started walking, trying to think happy thoughts.  The fact 
that he hadn't been found indicated that the goblins had moved on.  But 
their original attack had not been haphazard.  The rock falls, the 
bowmen, the timing of it all... Worth was convinced it had all been 
carefully coordinated, with one purpose in mind.  They were after him.  
Nay, and his Black Daggers.  They had set this trap for Worth.  It had 
been a meticulously planned ambush.  They were obviously determined to 
take him, dead or alive.

	It was obvious to Worth that for his enemies, the distinction was 
no longer relevant.  He was certain they would capture him alive, if 
they could, but they no longer had any qualms about murdering him.  The 
indiscriminate aim of the arrows attested to that.

	Well, he would keep on going, and he would beat them.  He still 
had the satchel of Maytig rocks.  That should be good for something.  
What, Worth did not know.

	Worth ate a sandwich as he walked.  He had stuffed a few of them 
in the satchel from the very beginning, realizing there was a time when 
he might become separated from Dulog.  Poor Dulog, he was probably dead 
along with the others.

	Worth kept walking north.  His sense of direction wasn't very 
good, but he was trying to head in a generally northwards direction.  
The terrain started to level out, which was a good sign.

	Worth didn't see any signs of anyone else during the whole day.  
Darkness started to fall when he found the clearing.

	It was an ordinary grass opening between the trees, and Worth 
would not have paid it much attention, were it not for the balls.

	There were small, multicolored balls on the grass.

	"That's odd," said Worth, looking around.  The area was deserted.  
Who would leave all their toys out here?

	There was a slight breeze, and one of the balls started to float 
in the air, passing by Worth in a leisurely way.  They weren't balls; 
they were more like balloons.  Laughing, Worth touched it with his hand 
as it passed.

	"Ow!" said Worth, withdrawing his hand.  There was a red mark on 
it.  "That stung!"

	"Bleep," said the balloon, floating in the air.  Suddenly, the 
other balloons started to become airborne, some slowly floating towards 
Worth.

	"Bleep bleep bleep" they said.

	"Oh, shit!" said Worth, immediately running away.  The balloons 
floated after him.  "Bleep bleep bleep!" they said.  Soon, a whole 
airborne convoy of ballons was after him.

	Worth had the speed to outrun them; there was no problem there.  
But it was getting dark, and he would have to find somewhere to rest 
soon.  Finally, when he had left the balloons far behind, he settled 
down under a group of trees.  It was already dark, but the moons of Koo 
shined down on him, providing a feeble illumination.

	Worth ate a hasty meal, and then immediately fell asleep.  There 
was no way he could keep a watch now; he would just have to hope that 
the goblins would not come across him.

	Worth awoke to a sharp pain on his cheek.  There was a balloon 
attached to his face!  He screamed, attempting to get it off with his 
hand.  That was a mistake.  The balloon came off, but stung his hand as 
well.  Suddenly there were several other balloons floating by.  One of 
them touched his leg, stinging it through the trousers.

	"Bleep bleep bleep!" they said, announcing their presence.

	"Bleep this!" said Worth, sticking one with a sword.  It popped 
with a loud noise and collapsed to the ground.  Worth looked around the 
tree.  In the moonlight there were dozens of them, all coming towards 
him.

	Another one stuck him on the leg.  "Oh!" Worth cried, sticking it 
with his sword.

	Suddenly he was enraged.  He charged the balloons, puncturing 
them with his sword. "Bleep this!  And this!  And this!"  And when he 
was done he was gasping for breath, and he was exhausted; but all the 
balloons had been punctured.  Pieces of balloons littered the forest 
floor.

	Worth leaned against a tree, exhausted.

	Suddenly, something floated down from a tree.  Worth immediately 
stuck it, rolling out of the way.  From the ground he looked up at the 
trees.

	They were in the trees.  Hundreds of them.  And they were 
starting to float down.

	Screaming, Worth fled.



	Worth opened his eyes.  He was lying, under a tree, his sword in 
hand.

	He slowly looked around.  There were no signs of the balloons.  
Had he imagined it?

	Then he saw the single deflated balloon at his feet.  Part of his 
experience, at least, had been real.  He must have kept running until 
he fell to the ground, unconscious.

	Worth groaned as he got up.  He attempted to use his magic to 
heal his arm.  While the magic flowed through his body the pain 
lessened.  But as soon as it ceased, the pain returned, to the same 
proportions of before.  It was a moderately throbbing pain, that only 
grew acute when he moved his arm.  It wasn't pleasant, but he could 
live with it.

	Worth looked around.  He was in a forest of some sort.  A 
forest... that struck a memory.  Worth looked around, checking his 
pockets for the map.

	He couldn't find it.  Then he remembered; he had put it in his 
satchel with the Maytig rocks.

	The satchel!  It was gone!  Stunned, Worth started to look 
frantically around.  The thought of having to go back again for more 
rocks was more than Worth could bare.

	Worth was much relieved, then, when he looked behind him, and, at 
the base of the tree he had slept near, he spied the satchel.

	Worth hurriedly opened the satchel and took out the rocks.  They 
were still there.  They were small chunks, each about the size of a 
person's fist, but they were heavy, heavier than normal rocks should 
have been.  Worth was surprised to find only five of them in the 
satchel; he had never gotten the time to count them, or examine them 
closely.  He studied the dull green surface.  Now that he had them, 
what did he do with them?

	Worth got out the map, studying it.  First things first; just 
where was he?

	"Oh oh," said Worth.  He was in a forest.  The only forest around 
on the map was the one labeled "The Woodlings."  He remembered Dulog 
warning him about them, but couldn't remember the nature of the 
warning.

	Could it have been a warning about the balloons? Worth thought.  
He didn't think so; he would've remembered that.  Frowning, Worth 
packed everything away, had a quick breakfast, and started off.

	He wanted to go north; Worth was fairly certain that would take 
him out of the forest.  The problem was, he didn't know which way north 
was.  He was thoroughly disoriented, and couldn't even see the sun 
clearly through the trees.

	"I'm going to head in the wrong direction anyway, so I might as 
well keep walking," said Worth, mostly to himself.  "Sooner or later 
I'll come out of this forest; it isn't very large.  Although I'm 
certain to come upon the dangerous part of it before I go, I'm sure of 
that."

	Worth tried to practice building his magical shield as he walked.  
But the pain in his arm made concentration difficult, and he soon 
abandoned the effort.

	After a few hours Worth came upon an area of berry bushes.  He 
was tempted to eat one, for his supply of sandwiches was limited, as 
was his water skin, which was now only half full.  But Worth realized 
they could be poisonous.

	Still, the berries looked delicious.  Some of them looked like 
thick, heavy blueberries.  Worth's mouth watered as he eyed them.

	"Aggg!" 

	Worth spun around, hearing a war cry.  A man with a spear was 
charging him.  There was no time to draw his sword, so all Worth could 
do was attempt to dodge out of the way.

	But Worth's arm was hurting him, and he winced with the effort, 
not dodging far enough to avoid the path of the spear.  At the last 
second Worth attempted to deflect the spear's path with his staff, and 
Worth's attacker flew by him, hitting a tree.

	Worth regained his balance, looking about.  He was surrounded by 
large muscular men, all armed, all barechested, and all wearing skirts.

	Another man raised a spear, aiming at Worth.  At this range he 
could hardly miss.  Worth hurriedly summoned his magic.

	"Hold!" said one of them, a muscular man with two stripes down 
the side of his skirt.

	The spearthrower froze.  The one who had issued the order, 
obviously the leader, looked Worth over slowly, from top to bottom.  He 
walked in a slow circle around Worth, studying everything from his 
shoes to his clothing to his staff to the handle of his sword, 
holstered at his side.

	Then he slowly looked at Worth's face.  "You are not Umush," he 
said, in a clear voice.

	Worth didn't know what Umush was, but he gathered that they were 
not friends of these skirt warriors.  "No, I am not," said Worth, aware 
that a misstatement could be fatal.  Could Umush mean outsider?

	The man looked at Worth.  "You are not Emush."

	Worth nodded.  "I am not Emush."

	A low murmurr went up among the warriors.  Worth watched 
nervously as one of them fingered his spear.

	"You are not Emush, you are not Umush," said the leader.  "What, 
then, are you?"

	"I am Worth," said Worth.  There, let them make a category for 
him!

	"You are from the outside," said the man, still looking at Worth 
oddly.

	"Yes."  Worth could not deny that.

	"You ate from the Emush berries," said the leader.

	"They look very delicious," said Worth, not knowing if eating 
them was a good thing or not.

	There was a gasp, and two of the group raised their spears.

	"The penalty for enemies eating Emush berries is death!" 
thundered the leader.  There was an angry murmur now.

	"Wait!" said Worth.  "I did not say I ate them!  I only looked at 
them!  And in any event, I am a friend, not an enemy."

	The leader held up a restaining hand, and that calmed his 
followers.  "You  say you are friend of Emush."

	Worth nodded.  So these were the Emush.  He filed that away.

	"How do we not know that you are not a spy, for the Umush?"  
There was a hostile roar in the background.

	The Umush were the enemy.  Now Worth could play without a 
scorecard.  "I hate the Umush!" Worth thundered.  "They kill my people, 
destroy my villages!  They are my sworn enemy!"  He wondered, 
abstractly, who the Umush were.

	Suddenly the tide turned and some of the warriors started 
cheering on Worth.  Quite a gullible people, he thought.

	"But you wear the levvis of a Umush," said the leader.

	"Huh?" said Worth.

	The leader pointed at Worth's pants.  "The levvis.  Surely you're 
aware you're wearing a levvis.  Why do you not wear the Oolong, as all 
good warriors should?"  And the leader pointed to his own skirt.

	Oooh.  Worth immediately realized the problem.  Male skirts were 
in fashion here; pants were not.  Thinking furiously, Worth said, "I 
was telling the truth when I told you I am not a spy against your 
people.  But I was spying on the dreaded Umush, so I needed to pretend 
to be one of them."

	The leader seemed to be thinking that one over.  "There is much 
to consider.  Come!  We will take you to our village."  And he gave a 
signal, and Emush rushed over, relieving Worth of his possessions.

	"Wait, wait!" Worth cried, as the sword was plucked from his 
scabbard, the satchel from his shoulder, even the staff from his hands.

	"We will protect your items," said the leader.

	"But my bag has all my food in it."

	"You will eat Emush food, and it will be a delight."

	"I'm sure," Worth muttered.  He could not bear to be separated 
from those rocks!  Then he had another thought.  "At least give me my 
cane," Worth pleaded.  "I am wounded, weak in the arm."  He pointed to 
his bandaged arm.  It was kind of a long shot--after all, who needed a 
cane for a wounded arm?--but it was worth a try.

	The leader handed him back his staff.  "We are not unkind 
peoples," he said.  "But come, we must go!"

	They started off at a brisk pace.  Every so often Worth looked 
back at the Emush who carried his satchel.  The sword he didn't care 
about, he could always kill a goblin to get another, but those Maytig 
rocks were difficult to replace.

	The leader walked by Worth.  "At first we thought you were Umush, 
by the way you dressed.  But if you were spying on them, that is 
something else.  What did you learn of them?"  He looked at Worth, 
expecting an answer.

	"Um... they do terrible things on the ground!  They cover 
themselves with dirt, and they like it!" said Worth, at a loss for what 
else to say.

	"The grounding ceremony?" said the leader.  "But we do that too, 
at the proper times."

	Oh oh.  Time to think fast.  "Yes, but they do it during odd 
times, only on alternate Tuesdays when the moons are out and the sky is 
drizzling."

	The leader nodded.  "Yes, that is savage."

	They walked on for a while, and Worth did his best to parry the 
leader's questions.  Worth got the first intimation of real trouble 
when he heard a whistling noise in the air, and one of the Emush 
crumpled to the ground, a spear planted in his belly.

	Suddenly the air was aloud with the cries of screams as the Emush 
were attacked.  Worth suddenly found himself staring down the business 
end of a sharp spear.  But the attacker who aimed it looked at Worth in 
shock, and froze.  Worth used the opportunity to hit him on the head 
with his staff.  And then he ducked behind a tree, summoning his magic.

	An attacker chased after him, but when he turned the corner 
around the tree, Worth was gone.

	The battle continued for only a few minutes.  Both sides stabbed 
at each other--apparently, both used spears, but after a short time, 
the newcomers were victorious.  Some of the Emush had been killed, and 
the rest had fled.

	Worth was standing close to a tree, cloaked by his magic.  He 
eyed the bodies on the ground, being methodically searched by the 
attackers.  The attackers resembled the Emush, but they wore pants.  
Could these be the Umush, the enemy of the Emush?   Worth was looking 
out to see if his satchel might be among the dead.  He leaned forward, 
craining to get a better look.  Unfortunately, he no longer realized 
that he was not touching the tree, and he became visible to the 
attackers.

	"Hey!" one of them yelled, leveling his spear at Worth.

	"What?" said Worth, suddenly realizing he was visible.  "Wait!" 
he cried, as several more spears leveled at him.  "I'm one of you.  
Look, look what I'm wearing," he said, pointing to his pants.

	That gave the attackers pause.  One of them stepped forward.

	"I am Noosh," said the fellow.  He wore no shirt, like the 
others, but was clad in brown pants with a circular pattern on the 
bottom, around the ankles.  "You are Umush?"

	"Yes, yes," said Worth.

	Noosh looked closely at Worth.  "You do not look like Umush."

	"But look, look what I'm wearing," said Worth, pointing to his 
pants, in case they missed the point.

	Noosh nodded.  "You do wear the levvis of a civilized man.  That 
is why we do not slay you immediately.  But where do you come from?  Do 
you travel with the Emush?"

	"I saw him in their party," said an Umush warrior.

	"Is this true?" said Noosh, turning back to Worth.

	"Yes," said Worth.

	They all raised their spears.  If Worth was going to say 
something more, it would have to be now.

	"Yes, I was in their party.  They captured me," said Worth.  
"They even took away my... spear.  I come from a village, far from 
here, where we too follow the customs of wearing the Levvis.  The Emush 
raided my village, slaughtered my people and took me captive."

	There was a growl, but at least they were sympathic to Worth now.

	"That is the way with them," said Noosh, nodding.  "Come!  You 
will accompany us to our village."

	Worth had been busy eyeing the bodies.  The satchel was not 
there.  That meant that one of the surviving Emush had taken it.

	"I must decline your kind offer," said Worth.  "I must avenge my 
fallen people.  Simply point me in the direction of the dreaded Emush, 
and let me meet a warrior's end."

	The Umush looked at Worth admiringly.  Now there were starting to 
actively like him.

	"I hear your words," said Noosh.  "But you must come back with 
us.  You have not even a weapon to defend yourself with."

	Worth picked up a spear, as if to respond to that point.

	 But Noosh wasn't done.  "And I would show you to my people, so 
they would further understand the terrible things the Emush have done.  
Death to the dreaded berry eaters!"

	"Death!  Death!" They chanted, as Worth, both confused and 
irritated, was sheparded back to the Umush camp.  

	The Umush village was a mixture of primitive huts clustered in an 
opening of the trees.  The men and women were sitting around on the 
ground, yelling at each other.  They were all clad in brown pants, and 
all of them, even the women, wore no clothing on the upper half of 
their bodies.  When they saw Noosh and his party return, they gave a 
cheer, but fell silent when they saw Worth.

	Noosh escorted Worth to an older man, sitting crosslegged by a 
campfire.

	"Annoosh!  I have returned," said Noosh, by way of greeting.

	"Indeed.  And who do you bring with you?  Surely not a Emush, 
surely not an Umush," said the one called Annoosh.  He, like all the 
other villagers, were staring curiously at Worth.

	"He says his name is Worth, and that his people fight the dreaded 
Emush as well," said Noosh.

	"I see," said Annoosh, nodding.  "Come, come, sit, sit.  I would 
talk with you."

	Worth sat.

	"Where are you from, Worth?" said Annoosh.

	"A small village in a far away land, called the Lower West Side."

	"I have not heard of it," said Annoosh with a surprised look on 
his face, as if his knowledge of geography was unparalleled.  "Is it 
your custom to dress as this?" he said, fingering Worth's shirt.

	Worth saw that the shirt was out of place.  So he focused on the 
pants.  "Sometimes.  But the most important thing to us is the wearing 
of the Levvis.  All the civilized people must wear the Levvis."  He 
said it with a knowing smile on his face as he repeated the important 
word, over and over.

	Annoosh nodded.  "That is so.  But how do you come to be here?"

	Worth explained how the Emush had slaughtered his fellow 
villagers and taken him captive.  He kept his story simple, partially 
because lies were best told that way, but also because Annoosh's 
attention span seemed carefully limited; the old man seemed on the 
verge of falling asleep whenever Worth spoke more than two sentences in 
a row.

	 At one point Noosh added, "We found him not far from the Umush 
berry grove."

	"The Emush were consuming the Umush berries again?" said Annoosh, 
clearly enraged.  "The savages!  Those pickers of raw meat!  Foul tree 
climbers!  Wild wrestlers!  Ignorant huliforcas!"

	Worth listened carefully, filing away the information for future 
use.  Annoosh continued to list the various shortcomings of the Emush, 
ranging from their lack of hygiene to their incomprehensible ways, 
concluding with a comparison of their dining manners to their mating 
rituals.  He told it in a singsong way, as if it were something he had 
memorized and told many times before.  He concluded with "Those 
ignorant savages!" and then took a few seconds to calm down a bit.

	Worth turned his thoughts to plans of escape.  Even if he could 
get away from here, he still had to get the Maytig rocks back.  He 
didn't know how he could infiltrate the Emush camp, or even where it 
was to be found.  All in all, he was in quite a mess.

	"Worth?"  Annoosh was addresing him.  "You must have seen much of 
the Emush when you were their captive. I would have you tell my people 
what you know"

	"Actually, I wasn't captive for all that-"

	Annoosh clapped his hands, and all the villagers gathered, 
sitting in a circle around him and Worth.  They had dull looks in their 
eyes, as if they were bored people, desperate to be entertained.

	Annoosh spoke in a loud voice.  "This one has been a captive of 
the savage Emush.  He will now tell us more of their barbarian ways.   
Attend!"

	He looked at Worth, giving him a gesture of "The floor is now 
yours."

	Worth cleared his throat.  Several dozen pairs of eyes fixed on 
him.  He had absolutely no idea what to say.  This was not good.

	"Um, well, I was taken prisoner of the savage... Emush."  
Carefully, there.  Emush, Umush, all their names sounded alike.  "They 
cruelly took me captive, and... were very cruel to me."

	There was no reaction from the audience.  They continued to stare 
dully at him.

	"I have seen their attacks, and they are most terrible," said 
Worth, thinking quickly.  "They swamped into my village, and 
slaughtered most of the villagers."

	The Umush gasped.

	"They burned our homes, they looted our stores.  They cut down 
our trees, they slaughtered our animals.  They ate our food, they left 
a mess, they looted, they vandalized, they beat and smashed everything 
we held dear."

	The Umush crowd looked stunned.

	"They were animals!" Worth cried.  "Those... those..." he tried 
to remember the word Annoosh had said earlier.  "Those Halifornians!"

	The crowd suddenly laughed.  "What happened?" said Worth.

	"It is all right," Annoosh assured him.  "You called them small 
flowering plants."

	"Oh," said Worth.  But he had lost the mood.  He tried to build 
it up again.  "They were cruel to me, and they tortured me.  But I 
would not talk.  They beat me, and vowed to beat all who wore the 
Levvis."

	There was an angry murmur in the audience.

	"But I would not give in, and neither should you!"  Worth cried.  
"The Emush are savages, and we, the civilized people, will never fall 
to savages!  Down with the savages!"

	"Down with Emush!  Down with Emush!" The audience cried.  One 
Umush even accentuated the tune on a primative drum.

	Worth smiled.  He had been a crowd pleaser.

	"Down with Emush!  Down with Emush!" they cried.

	But then the frenzy built up, until Noosh sprang forward, saying, 
"We must destroy the Emush, once and for all!  We must attack, and 
attack now!"

	"Attack!  Attack!  Attack now!" they cried, getting up and 
jumping for their weapons.

	Worth looked about, slightly alarmed.  He hadn't planned for 
this.  If the Emush and the Umush went to war Worth would feel at least 
partially responsible.

	On the other hand, a small battle would be just the distraction 
he needed to recover the Maytig rocks.  Oh well, Worth thought, these 
groups must have been fighting for a long time.  What would one more 
battle matter?

	If the Umush had any semblence of a battle plan, it wasn't 
apparent to Worth.  Several dozen Umush, all carrying spears, ran 
screaming into the forest, in no particular formation.  In the 
confusion Worth went after them, following their trail.

	He was surprised when, only ten minutes later, they reached the 
Emush camp.  Evidently it had been quite close by.  The Umush swarmed 
into the Emush camp, brandishing their spears.  The Emush, perhaps 
forewarned by several minutes of loud screams coming from the forest, 
were ready, armed with their own spears.

	Worth watched the battle from behind a tree as the rival 'mush 
tribes cut into each other.  "Dirty Emush!" cried a Umush, stabbing an 
Emush villager in the arm.  This didn't slow up the Emush in the 
slightest, who stabbed the Umush back, yelling, "Savage Umush!"

	The battle raged for some time, and the body count started to 
mount.  So busy were the Emush and the Umush that no one had yet 
noticed Worth, who was still peering out from behind his tree.  His 
satchel could be anywhere, he realized.  Perhaps in one of the Emush 
huts.

	Worth worked his way closer, going from tree to tree.  There were 
about fifteen huts in the Emush village, all of which would take some 
time to search.  Sighing, Worth slipped into number one, tiptoeing past 
an Emush and Umush locked in mortal combat.

	He looked through the hut. It was dirty, and it smelled.  Grass 
trimmings were spread along the floor.  But it was otherwise empty.

	Worth went from hut to hut, dodging past the combatants.  For the 
most part he went unnoticed, for the rival villagers were too consumed 
with their own battle to notice him.  But as he slipped into his fifth 
hut he heard the sound "Worth!" behind him.

	He turned, and saw Noosh locked in combat with an Emush.  Worth 
waved, quickly going, "Hi!" before he darted into the hut.

	And there, on the floor, was his satchel and sword.

	Even before he picked up the sword Worth checked the contents of 
the satchel.  The Maytig rocks were still there!  Even the sandwiches 
were untouched.  Worth put the satchel on his left shoulder, wincing as 
it went over his wounded arm, and picked up his sword with his right 
hand.

	He was turning to leave when he saw a villager entering.  He was 
wearing a striped skirt, and he looked familiar.

	It was the leader of the Emush patrol he had first encountered.  
"Worth!" he cried, looking angry.  The point of his bloody spear was 
pointed at Worth.

	"Oh!" said Worth.  "Am I glad to see you!  The Emush took me 
captive--forced me to come-"

	"We are the Emush!" roared the leader, his skirt trembling with 
his anger.  Worth had gotten the names confused.  The leader raised his 
spear-

	And fell to the ground, as the side of an Umush spear hit him on 
the head.  Noosh entered the hut.

	"Worth!" he cried.

	Worth looked beyond him.  He could still see the sounds of 
battle. But here, in this little hut, they were alone. Worth summoned 
his magic.  "Good work!" said Worth.  "You got that dirty Emush who was 
about to kill me!"

	"Worth!" said Noosh, his expression turning to anger.  Evidently 
Worth's stock of credibility with both groups of villagers had gone 
into a slump.  He roared, charging Worth.

	Worth had no particular desire to harm Noosh; aside from the fact 
that the Umush, like the Emush, had taken him captive, he had nothing 
personal against him. But Worth was in a hurry.  He sent a stabbing 
beam of magical energy that landed against the Umush's shoulder.  Noosh 
cried out, falling to the ground.

	Worth could see him moaning, clutching his arm.  As he left the 
hut, Worth bent down to Noosh.  Noosh turned his head, looking at 
Worth.  Worth whispered softly to him.  "Before I leave, there's one 
thing I want you to know. I don't harbor any hard feelings because you, 
like your fellow group of savages, kidnapped me.  I just want you to 
know that I ate the Umush berries.  Lots of them."  Worth licked his 
lips imaginatively.

	Noosh roared with anger, and tried to get up.  But Worth punched 
him in the face, and he fell unconscious, next to the other sleeping 
Emush body.  Worth admired them, but only for a moment.  They looked so 
peaceful.

	Worth ran out of the hut. Evidently the Umush attackers were 
nearly victorious.  Most of the Emush had fled.  To fight another day, 
no doubt.  But several Umush spotted Worth, and ran over to him.

	"Quick, in the hut!  Noosh needs medical attention!" said Worth.  
They ran past him.  Grinning from ear to ear, Worth headed off into the 
forest.

	As he walked away from the receding sounds of battle and 
conflict, Worth did feel a little guilty.  He had unwittingly inflamed 
the conflict between the two groups.  But they should have known better 
than to try to tangle with a wizard, even a kindly hearted one such as 
Worth.

	Taking sure-footed steps in his Levvis, Worth headed out of the 
forest.


Chapter 12:  Cruelty



     It only took Worth a few hours to work his way out of the forest.  
He tried his best to steer a northward course; on the Black Dagger map, 
there was a road near the forest that headed north, on a straight path 
towards Maple.  It was funny, though; there was something odd about the 
map.  Worth still couldn't put his finger on it, but he had a funny 
feeling about the map.  He studied it and studied it, but he still had 
no clue as to the location of the Black Dagger hideout.  He had 
presumed it would be marked on the map, but obviously, for reasons of 
security, it was not.  Then just how did the Black Daggers find their 
way home?

	Home, to the fell captain.  Worth shivered.  He hadn't thought 
about his primary adversary in some time.  The adversary that Worth 
would have to deal with.  Worth kept walking.

	Worth was surprised when, after a few hours on foot, he found 
what he thought was the northward road.  For once, he had been walking 
in the right direction.  But it was almost dark, so Worth camped by the 
side of the road.  There was no way he could keep a watch; one man, 
alone, was not capable of it.  Nevertheless Worth tried to sleep as 
lightly as he could, to be as sensitive to noises as he could.  There 
was little else he could do.

	 But he came to no harm, and the next morning he continued his 
trek, walking on the road.  Not to the side of it, but on the road 
itself.  He was more confident of his abilities now, and less fearful 
of what he might encounter.  He was even continuing to prepare for his 
next encounter with Nay.  As he walked, Worth spent some time 
practicing with his magic shield.  He tried to let it move naturally, 
to get a continuous layer that flowed in front of his body.  He was 
pleased when he was finally successful, when he was able to maintain a 
steady shield in front of him for several seconds, without any gaps.  
Then it started to fall apart.  Still, it was progress.

	But Worth was having less progress in healing his own wound.  The 
active pain from his arm had nearly subsided, but he still could not 
use his arm or move it without a great deal of discomfort.  The use of 
magic did not seem to heal it any quicker.  Worth realized he still had 
much to learn about his ability.  If Lore had only stayed with him 
longer... or Palmer....  But perhaps if Worth met up with this Whyse of 
the Wind, he could teach Worth how to better heal himself.

	If this Whyse hadn't already been killed by the Black Daggers.  
In the short time Worth had been in the Land of Koo, it seemed that 
just about every human magic user in the Lower Threstles had been 
slaughtered by Nay and his minions.  That made the anger boil within 
him.

	Worth took a deep breath.  What had happened to him?  He had 
never been so vicious as an attorney.

	But attorneys never got into life and death situations.  This was 
different.  This was a foe who wanted not to buy out a company, but to 
take human lives.  Worth's among them.

	But Worth would not be intimidated.  He walked on the road for 
two days, conserving his supplies as best he could.  He had enough food 
for perhaps two more days, but that was only if he limited himself to 
two sandwiches each day, plus a small drink from the nearly depleted 
skin of water.

	But the map said that he didn't have much farther to go.  The 
outerlying villages near Maple shouldn't be more than a day away.  And 
perhaps Worth was even closer to them; it was hard to say with any 
certainty.  Unless, of course, he was on the wrong road entirely, or 
heading in the wrong direction.  Which was a distinct possibility.  If 
that was true, he could be heading anywhere.

	But Worth tried to think happy thoughts, and every day he 
practiced using his magic.  Sometimes he practiced firing magical 
streams of energy, or camoflaging himself, but most of his efforts went 
to the magical shield--creating it, sustaining it, and making it 
stronger.  Worth soon noticed that while he could create a magical 
shield, and perhaps even strengthen it, he didn't have the power or the 
concentration to launch a magical attack at the same time.  That could 
prove critical.

	In fact, he was so caught up thinking about his magical talent 
that he didn't notice when the ambush was sprung.

	They came out of the trees, off the side of the road.  There 
eight of them, all in gleaming armor, all with large swords, all with 
large, red beards.  It was the redbearded highwaymen who had beaten 
Worth up, only days ago.

	They saw Worth, and they laughed, for they recognized him.  And 
then their leader pointed to Worth's staff, and he said, "Look!  The 
wizard's found his staff!"  They all laughed as they surrounded him, 
closing in.

	Worth summoned his magic. "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" he 
cried, cringing for effect.

	They all laughed.  They laughed outrageously.  

	And then Worth unleased a deadly bolt, which sent a beam of 
energy through one of the redbeard's chest.

	The laughing stopped immediately.  The redbeard who had gotten 
hit looked down at his armor in disbelief.  There was a large hole in 
it, through which one could see the trees on the other side of the 
road.  The highwayman fell dead to the ground, surprise and disbelief 
still written on his face.

	The highwaymen looked grim, now, even scared.  But the leader 
snapped forward, grabbing the staff out of Worth's hands.  "There!" he 
said.  "A wizard isn't shit without his staff!"

	The men bucked up their courage.  The wizard had been defanged.  
Several of them started laughing.

	"You'll pay for that," said the leader.  He gave a whistle.  
"Bruno?"

	A large highwayman closed in.  It was the one who had 
administered Worth's last beating.

	"We have some unfinished business," said Bruno, the big redbeard, 
giving a wide smile.  He closed on Worth, with a large smile on his 
face.  "It's party time, wizard."

	"Oh?" said Worth.  "Then let's have some music."  He suddenly 
sent a beam of energy into the redbeard's left knee, shattering it.  
The redbeard fell down the ground, yelping in pain.

	The leader immediately realized he had miscalculated.  "Grab him, 
boys!"

	They tried, but even as the words were out of the leader's mouth, 
Worth had stabbed two more redbeards with his lethal beam.  And then a 
redbeard was grabbing Worth, and his magic faded.  The man grabbed 
Worth, pinioning his arms behind his back.  "Come and get him, boys," 
said his captor.  Grinning, the remaining redbeards approached, the 
happy look on their faces not at all tinged with concerns for the 
fallen Bruno, who was now sobbing on the ground and trying to cope with 
the enormous pain of his shattered knee.

	Worth's captor held him in position, so the others could get a 
clear space to throw a punch at him.  Worth summoned his magic, and 
smiled.  The others paused for a moment, for they were still fearful, 
but his captor said, "Come on!  I've got his hands!"

	"Yes, you have my hands," Worth agreed.

	One of the redbeards moved in for a punch and Worth directed a 
lethal beam, right between his eyes.  The beam was so powerful that it 
also stabbed through the redbeard right behind him.  Both fell to the 
ground, dead before they hit the road.

	Now the only unwounded ones left were the leader and Worth's 
captor.  Moving with lightening speed, Worth focused magical energy in 
his left leg, and then he stabbed down with enormous force on his 
captor's left foot.

	His captor screamed, letting go of Worth as the agony of crushed 
bone reached his puny brain.  He drew his sword, but Worth plucked it 
out of the pained man's hand.

	"This?  For me?" said Worth, eying it.  It was much too heavy for 
him.  The wounded redbeard was still screaming, grasping his foot.  "No 
thanks.  I have one already," said Worth, bringing the sword down on 
the redbeard.  It landed, with a thunk, in the highwayman's neck.

	Worth looked about.  There were seven redbeards on the ground.   
No one else was in sight.

	"Hm," said Worth.  "I could have sworn there were eight of you."  
He knew full well that the leader of the highwaymen was missing.

	Worth darted into the forest at the road's edge.  "Come out, come 
out, wherever you are," he said.  There was not a sound.

	Worth whistled, walking by the trees at the side of the road.  
Suddenly he caught a glint of metal from a nearby a tree.

	The leader of the highwaymen looked out nervously from behind the 
tree.  He heard the wizard coming, but he did not see him.  Where could 
he be?

	Tap, tap.

	Someone was tapping on his armor!  The leader wheeled around.  
Worth was standing there, smiling at him.  The leader raised his sword, 
but he was too late; a beam stabbed into his hand, and he screamed, 
dropping the sword as he fell to his knees.

	Worth kicked him in the knees; he fell to the ground, still 
crying out.

	"So, you like to hurt and kill innocent travellers, don't you?" 
said Worth, kicking him again.

	"So, you like to torment, and rob and steal and kill, especially 
when people are weaker than yourself, don't you?" said Worth, kicking 
the leader in the head.

	The leader grabbed his head.  "Please!  Please don't kill me."

	Worth considered.  "Maybe I won't.  Maybe I even have a job for 
you.  Get up."

	The leader looked at Worth, unbelieving.

	"Get up!  Or I will kill you."

	The leader got up.  Worth led him back to the road.  He gasped 
when he saw the bodies of his fallen companions.  But one of them was 
still moving.

	It was Bruno, the one who Worth had shot in the knees.  "Hi, 
how're you doing?" said Worth conversationally, kicking Bruno in the 
knees.  Bruno screamed.  "I want to thank you, for teaching me about 
the harsh realities of Koo."  He kicked him again.  "And I thought I 
could return the favor."

	Worth heard running, and he turned around, and saw the leader 
trying to make a run for it.  He sent a magical blast at the leader's 
left leg, and the leader went down, screaming.

	Worth slowly approached him.  "Now, what did I tell you about 
running away?" he said, wagging his finger at the screaming leader.  
"Now, listen up!  Pay attention!  There.  I have a job for you."  He 
picked up a sword from the ground, and handed it to the leader.

	"Ever put two scorpions in a box, and watch them fight it out?  
No?  Well, you'll catch on to the principal soon enough.  You like to 
pick on helpless people.  I have just the job for you. Kill that one," 
Worth said, pointing to Bruno.

	The leader gasped.  "Or, I could just finish you off," said 
Worth, raising his hands suggestively.  "Now kill him, and I may let 
you live."

	"Ok, ok," said the leader, crawling towards Bruno.

	Bruno saw and heard what transpired, but he just sat there, 
grasping his knees.  "Oh Bruno," Worth called.  "I would pick up a 
sword, if I were you."

	When Bruno saw his leader crawling towards him with a sword, his 
eyes widened.  He picked up a sword by his side.

	Worth had never before seen a swordfight conducted by two people 
who were sitting on the ground.  The leader and Bruno hacked and 
slashed at each other for a while, each sometimes scoring on the 
other's breastplate, but the blades always bounced off.  The leader was 
obviously more skilled, but he had to fight with his left hand, for 
Worth had maimed his sword hand.  They hacked fiercely at each other, 
for Worth was watching closely, and they knew what would happen if they 
disobeyed him.

	The leader clanged his sword against Bruno's armor.  Bruno, who 
was on his knees, temporarily lost balance.

	"Good shot," said Worth.

	But then Bruno returned with a slice that cut into the leg of the 
leader.  The leader howled, but kept his guard up.

	"Not bad, Bruno," said Worth.

	After several minutes of back and forth swordfighting the leader 
plunged his blade into Bruno's neck.  Bruno screamed and died.  The 
leader, panting with exhaustion, looked up at Worth.  Worth had 
retrieved his staff, and was pointing it straight at the leader.

	"You said-you said you would let me live!  You're the cruel one!" 
said the leader, sensing he was about to die.

	Worth paused, as if stung.  "Cruel?  Cruel?  Two weeks ago I was 
a mild mannered corporate lawyer from New York City.  Then I was 
brought here.  I've been stung by mud.  I've been pursued by Black 
Daggers.  I've been beaten up by you.  I've been chased across the 
whole of the Lower Threstles. I've been beaten up by goblins.  I've 
been shot with arrows.  I've been taken captive by nymphs who 
controlled my mind and made me a love slave.  I've been kidnapped by 
idiotic savages.  I've been attacked by skeletons, and I've been shot 
at by magical beings."

	Worth brought his face very close to the leader.  "And I've had 
enough," he said, getting up and walking away.

	The leader watched Worth walk down the road for a minute.  Worth 
walked slowly away from him, at a leisurely pace.

	Then, when he had gotten some distance away, Worth turned around 
and said, "Oh, almost forgot."  He sent a beam of magic surging into 
the leader, smashing a hole through his armor, indeed, creating a small 
hole underneath him nearly two feet deep.

	Worth whistled as he walked down the road.  He chided himself on 
his absentmindedness.

	He slept very soundly that night.



	But the next day Worth came upon the Black Daggers.

	They were waiting for him, almost as if they knew he was coming.   
And it was true.  They had been expecting Worth.  And they were ready 
for him.

	It was early morning, less than an hour after Worth had started 
on the road again.  Worth had seen a village ahead, but it was an 
ominous indicator; there was smoke rising from it, and even from a 
distance Worth could hear the sounds of battle.  The fell captain's 
forces were obviously on the move.

	Worth quickened his pace, turning a bend in the road-

	And there were the Black Daggers.  Waiting for him.

	There were only three of them, but one of them was Nay.  He was 
flanked by two guards, and he looked the picture of confidence.

	Worth did not try to hide, or to run.  Instead, he walked closer, 
summoning his magic.  He ignored the terror, but he also felt Nay 
powering up his magic.

	"Worth!  How good of you to come!" said Nay.  "I've tried to 
catch up with you for sometime, but you seem to keep running away."

	"I had another errand to run," said Worth.

	"Ah, yes, the Maytig rocks," said Nay, shaking his head.  "A 
waste of effort, you know.  That's a myth, Worth."  He tisked tisked.  
"They won't work on my master."

	"That's what you say," sneered Worth.  But suddenly, he was no 
longer so certain.  Nay did seem confident.  Could he be telling the 
truth?

	"We've almost caught you several times before," said Nay, almost 
conversationally.  "If that fool Palmer hadn't gotten in the way we 
might have had you at the edge of the Battle Plain."

	Worth flinched.

	"Ah, yes, Palmer.  Quite an easy challenge, really no bother at 
all," said Nay, dismissively waving a hand.  "You wouldn't care to tell 
me how you got down the cliff so quickly?"

	Worth was silent, just staring angrily at Nay.

	"We later figured out you had mastered the art of cloaking.  That 
was after you escaped from our little trap in the Warklutans.  I'm 
afraid I was very upset about that.  I set not a few goblin heads 
rolling, to punish them for their utter incompetence.  But good help is 
so difficult to find, in these times.  You had us lost... in the 
Woodlings?  Was it the Woodlings?  I think it was.  We would have gone 
after you, but the master had other matters for us to attend to."  He 
smiled, his eyes gazing towards the village behind him.  The sounds of 
conflict could still be heard.  "Yes, that's our people.  We detected 
your presence early on, and dispatched this welcoming party for you.  
I'm sorry it's so small, but it will have to suffice."

	"What do you want with me?" said Worth.

	"The same thing the one you called Lore did," said Nay.  "To 
serve our side."

	"Lore-"

	"Wanted to recruit you in the fight against us.  It's simply that 
he got to you first.  You could find life very pleasant working for 
us."

	"I could never join you," said Worth.

	"Why not?" said Nay.  "You kill, and seem to like it.  I have the 
bodies of my men to attest to that.  Oh, and don't worry, I'm not 
concerned about them."   	

	"I only kill those who themselves kill with impunity," said 
Worth, choking back anger.

	"Yes, I thought you might rationalize it that way," said Nay.  
"Well, it's irrelevant.  You're coming with me, one way or another."

	"Oh, I'm coming all right," said Worth.  "But in my own time, in 
my own fashion."

	"I'm afraid that simply won't do," said Nay, and his eyes 
flashed.  "You have no choice.  This is the last time I will ask."

	Worth felt a rage burning in him.  "You killed Lore. You killed 
Palmer, and Rellac, and a lot of good men.  I will never accompany 
you."

	Worth felt a surge of magic building up in Nay, and suddenly a 
bolt flew from his staff, hitting Worth.  But the beam was not intense, 
and Worth's magical shield held.  Evidently Nay was not trying to kill 
him.

	Worth stood there calmly absorbing the beam.  Nay's mouth hung 
open in surprise.

	"How about this?" said Worth, lowering his shield and sending a 
tremendous jolt at Nay.

	The jolt was so strong that Nay was knocked off his feet, and he 
hit the ground.  His guards looked stunned.  But Nay slowly got up.  He 
was unharmed.  And unholed.  Worth had attempted to drill right through 
him.  Evidently Nay had strong magical shielding.

	Swiftly he raised his staff and fired off another bolt at Worth. 
Worth barely had time to raise his shield again.  This time the energy 
attack was tremendous. But his shield held.

	Nay fired again, and again.  Worth gasped as he attempted to hold 
off the attacks.  His shield was weakening rapidly.  Already he could 
sense small holes opening up in it.  Worth fell to his knees, 
desperately trying to keep his shield intactg.

	But Nay kept attacking, ruthlessly firing bolt after bolt at the 
helpless Worth.  If he couldn't capture Worth, he would kill him.  
There was no let up, no chance for Worth to lower his shield and direct 
an attack at Nay.  He realized in a split second that he had been 
foolish, foolish to take on Nay before he had mastered his skills.  The 
ability to shield and attack at the same time was crucial.

	Nay stood in front of Worth, firing magical beams at him at point 
blank range.  Worth fell entirely to the ground, gasping as he felt his 
magical shield fall, his magic fail.  The shot that punctured his 
shield also rattled Worth with a strong painful shock, and he cried 
out, dropping his staff.

	"Ha ha ha ha," said Nay.  "Not so powerful after all, are we?  
Come come, get up!  You have an appointment with my master.  Perhaps 
you will loose some compunctions against killing once you have been 
altered."  And he snapped his fingers, and the Black Daggers behind him 
approached.

	Worth would have rathered died right there on the spot than be 
altered.  He looked up.  Nay was leering at him, and his guards were 
approaching.  Worth stole a look at the ground next to him.  There was 
his staff, lying just a few inches beyond his hand.  Worth gasped.

	Nay laughed, and laughed and laughed and laughed.

	In a smooth fluid motion Worth grasped his staff and hit Nay 
hard, on the left ankle.  Nay cried out, grasping his foot.  He was 
surely surprised; he had thought Worth thoroughly defanged.  But he had 
only thought from a magical perspective.

	Meanwhile Worth sat up, and landed another swift blow on Nay's 
head, rapping him hard with his staff on the forehead, just below the 
covering of the helmet.  The villain cried out again, falling to the 
ground.

	The Black Daggers were running up now, drawing their swords.

	Worth summoned his magic.  There was no chance it would come.  He 
was drained, totally drained.  But Worth felt a feeble flicker, one 
which he tried to amplify with his staff.  Worth felt a small flow of 
energy course through his body, giving him energy.

	The first Black Dagger rushed up.  Worth jumped up, drawing his 
sword and stabbing into the Black Dagger's stomach even as he was 
bringing his blade down on Worth.	

	The second Black Dagger closed, waving his sword warily at Worth.

	Nay, on the ground, groaned.  The second Black Dagger surged, 
forcing Worth to back away from Nay.  Worth slowly edged away, never 
taking his eyes away from the Black Dagger.  The Black Dagger, seeing 
Worth retreat a short a distance away, reached down to help Nay up.  
Worth started to turn and run, at a quick limp.  He had gotten only 
fifty feet when he turned a slight bend in the road... and he was 
surrounded by many soldiers.

	"Halt!" they cried.

	Worth stopped, utterly fatigued.  They had crossbows pointed at 
him.  But the soldiers looked similar in garb to the Maple militiamen 
who had accompanied Worth through the Warklutans.  Worth raised his 
hands, slowly turning around.  Nay and the second Black Dagger were 
gone.



	They took his sword, his satchel, even his staff.

	"What were you doing with those Black Daggers?" said their 
leader, interrogating Worth on the spot.

	Worth was exhausted.  But he managed to gasp, "Doing with them?  
I was fighting them!"

	"We'll see about that," said the leader.  "Take him!"

	He was hustled down the road by two troops.  Worth was too tired 
and weak to argue with them.


Chapter 13:  Happy Meetings



	As they walked Worth heard the soldiers talking about the battle 
in the village.  The name of the village was Willow, and apparently 
large numbers of goblins had attacked it.  The villagers had been 
evacuated in time, but the goblins had looted the village, burning 
homes and destroying property.  The Maple militia had arrived and had 
turned the route of the small Willow militia into a fierce pitched 
battle.  Still, even with the added help of the Maplemen, the militias 
were losing ground..  The other side had been using magic to thwart the 
Maple militia.  Worth heard them talking about bolts of magic, and then 
everything became clear.  They thought he was the magic user who had 
been working for the goblins.  They were confusing him with Nay!

	Worth also learned that the magical attacks had ceased midway 
through the battle.  That must have been when Nay left, to intercept 
Worth.  The loss of Nay's magical support had turned the tide of 
battle, and the Maplemen had routed the goblins, though at great cost.

	"Is a pity that Palmer is still not with us," said one solider.  
"We could have used him-"

	"I knew Palmer!" said Worth.

	"What?" said a solider.

	"Shut up, you," said a guard, brandishing his sword, and Worth 
fell silent.  But after that Worth caught the glances of the soldiers, 
looking curiously at him.

	They approached the town of Maple, which was just over a low 
ridge.  The ridge was buzzing with militiamen, who were either standing 
guard, looking out to the east, or in training, practicing in the use 
of their swords.  Worth could see that many of them were poorly 
trained; most did not even have uniforms.  And there were even a goodly 
number without weapons at all.  But then they passed the ridge and 
marched Worth forward into Maple proper.

	Maple was the capitol of the Lower Threstles, but for a capitol 
it wasn't very large.  By Worth's standards it was a small town, still 
much larger than the surrounding villages, but a small town 
nonetheless.  None of the streets were even paved, and no building was 
taller than four stories in height, though for the first time Worth 
caught sight of buildings made of brick, not wood.

	Maple had been the capitol of the Lower Threstles for some 320 
years, less than 200 years after the bad chaos.  After the bad chaos 
the survivors of of the war had clustered in the southwestern corner of 
Thanadil, but the land was not very fertile there.  Gradually, settlers 
had drifted north and came on the ruins of villages overcome by the 
goblins.  But the land had not been despoiled, perhaps because the 
goblins moved through the region quickly, or perhaps because the Black 
Daggers had never came that far west.

	Gradually the population expanded and Maple became the center of 
commerce.  The name of Thanadil was dropped and the Lower Threstles was 
born, encompassing a similar though smaller area of the former realm.  
Though Maple was the capitol, the land was not unified as it had been 
when Kalbard ruled Thanadil, for Maple itself, though by far the 
largest settlement in the Lower Threstles, was hardly more than a large 
town.  But the town council proclaimed itself the ruling body of the 
whole of the Lower Threstles, if in name only, despite the fact that 
the Wayfarer Confederation no longer existed and the Lower Threstles 
was autonomous, both from within and without.

	But the people of Maple were proud, and strong of heart and will.  
They formed and trained a militia which held back the Scarmont Raiders, 
180 years in the past, and, more recently, the roving goblin bands.  
But they were virtually unprepared for the utter flood of goblins that 
overcame their villages.  In recent years local militias ranged from 
nonexistent, such as in Beech, to somewhat formidable, as the Willow 
militia was, but by and large village militias tended to be more like 
the former than the latter.  The Maplemen knew they could expect little 
help from the villages, even in their own defense; the Maple regulars 
would have to handle the crisis by themselves, for no one else would 
come to their aid.

	And right now they were nearly under siege, for the invaders had 
pressed close, merely a few scant miles from Maple itself.  The 
invaders had been pushed back, but at a terrible cost in men and 
material.  And the Maplemen knew that magic had played a key role in 
their near defeat, and they were not overpleased to see a wizard on the 
road, who they quite reasonably suspected of being in league with the 
enemy.

	Worth was taken to the Maple town hall.  He had always planned to 
come to Maple, but never as a prisoner.  He was even more stunned when 
he saw he was being put on trial.

	"Trial?  What have I done?" said Worth, as he was dumped into a 
chair in the courtroom.

	"Quiet!" said a Mapleman, who seemed to be serving as the 
bailiff.  The courtroom was packed with people watching the return of 
the militiamen.  A man with silver hair stepped foward to sit behind 
the judge's desk.

	"Maxan?  What do you have to report?" said the man behind the 
desk, addressing the leader of the troop that had captured Worth.

	"As I sent word before, victory is ours, Mayor Corren.  The 
goblins have fled Willow.  I now bring forth a prisoner we captured," 
said the man.  "We caught him outside of Willow, where we have been 
subject to many magical attacks.  He was near the body of a Black 
Dagger, and he carried this."  He raised Worth's staff aloft.

	There was a gasp from the crowd.

	"I was fighting them, you fool," said Worth.  "And nearly got 
myself killed in the process."

	"Who are you?" said the man, Corren, who sat behind the judge's 
desk.  Corren, he had been called.  Hadn't Worth heard that name 
before?

	"Who are you?" Worth countered, stalling for time.

	There was a murmur; evidently this Corren wasn't usually 
challenged like this.  But Corren banged his gavel.  "I am Corren, head 
of the council of Maple, Mayor, and, after the recent Black Dagger 
assassination of Judge Plannen, chief judge of Maple," he said calmly.  
"Now, will you identify yourself?  Are you... are you Whyse of the 
Wind?"

	Worth took a deep breath.  He was going to risk the truth.  "No." 
he said.  "I am Worth.  I have come from a far land to help you."

	"You are a wizard?" asked Corren.

	Worth reluctantly nodded.

	Corren said, "There is only one magic user in all of the Lower 
Threstles who is allied with us, one named Palmer, who has been missing 
for some time.  We were told of a second who might come, one named 
Whyse of the Wind, but he had not appeared either.  All others who cast 
magic serve the fell captain."

	"Well, you're going to have to add a third category," said Worth.  
"Because I was sent here, in part, by Palmer."  It wasn't stretching 
the truth too far.

	There was another exclamation in the audience.

	"Order!  There will be order!" said Corren, banging the gavel.  
"What know you of Palmer?"

	"He was my guide, my protector... on the Battle Plain," said 
Worth.  "He saved me while the Black Daggers were attacking.  He gave 
his life so I could accomplish an important mission."

	"Palmer... dead?" said Corren, stunned.  "Then all hope is lost."

	"No," said Worth.  "There is a way to stop the fell Captain.  
Lore searched the records in Beech-"

	"Lore?  Who is this Lore?"

	"Another wizard who befriended me," said Worth.  "We discovered 
that rocks from Maytig, in the very satchel you took from me, can be 
used to fight the fell captain."

	"How?" said Corren.

	"I do not know," said Worth, bowing his head.  "Lore, too... 
perished at the hands of the Black Daggers."

	Corren frowned.  "We were subject to numerous magical attacks in 
our effort to retake Willow.  We were successful, but many of our men 
were lost.  How do we know that you are telling the truth, and you are 
fighting against the Black Daggers, and not with them?"

	Worth frowned, concentrating.  "He mentioned you."

	"Who?"

	"Palmer.  He said he was a close advisor.  To you."

	"A spy could have found that out," said Maxan, the leader of the 
troop that had captured Worth.  He glared at Worth, as if he was 
certain he was a treacherous enemy.

	"Quiet, Maxan," said Corren.  He was trying to make sense of 
this.  "And Palmer thought it important enough to help you in your 
quest.  If you are telling the truth."  Plainly, there was doubt on his 
face, but he was beginning to believe Worth.

	"I am!  I was with Rellac when his troops were slaughtered by the 
goblins," said Worth.

	"Rellac!" said Corren, sitting up abruptly, and there was a 
murmur again.  "His troop is also late in reporting.  We had suspected 
he was lost."

	"He was.  We fell pray to a goblin trap in the Warklutans.  I 
believe I was the only one to survive."

	"You have been most fortunate, then," said Corren.

	"I am telling the truth," said Worth. "I talked to the man, I can 
describe him to you.  If I was an attacker, how would I know his name?"

	Corren looked a little doubtful, but he was becoming more and 
more convinced that Worth was telling the truth.

	But then a voice came from the back of the room.  "He knew 
Rellac's name because he tortured it out of him, before he killed him."

	Worth turned, as the newcomer approached.

	It was Dulog.

	"Dulog!" said Corren.  "Where do you come from?"

	"I was on my scouting mission, that you sent me on, Council 
Leader,' said Dulog, bowing slightly.  He looked dirty, and a little 
worn, but otherwise intact.  He seemed oddly calm, though.

	Worth couldn't believe it; Dulog was alive!

	"I befriended this Worth, believing his story to be true.  But 
when the goblins attacked us in the Warklutans, Worth was clearly on 
their side.  Many of his magical beams killed our men."

	There were yells of outrage in the audience.  Corren banged down 
on the gavel again, but it took several moments to restore the calm.  
Several members of the audience had family members who were slain in 
the battle of Willow.

	"Rellac was still alive, and I saw Worth standing over him, 
torturing him for information," said Dulog, staring dully at Worth.  

	"And how did you see this?" said Corren sharply.

	"I was hiding, in a bush.  The goblins missed me," said Dulog, 
bowing his head.

	The angry murmur started to grow louder.

	"And, although I didn't see it, I believe Worth killed Palmer.  I 
heard him boasting about it, to his Black Dagger friends, after he 
killed Rellac."

	The audience was yelling again.  Corren banged for silence, but 
it took several minutes.  The audience surged towards Worth, and 
militiamen had to hold them back.  When he had restored order, Corren 
said, "Silence! We are still a civilized people.  Person called Worth, 
how do you respond to this?"

	"He's lying," said Worth bluntly.  He looked at Dulog closely.  
Had Dulog snapped?  Could he be deluded, and actually believing this 
story?  No, it was too vivid.  It had to be another imposter.  "He's an 
imposter."

	The crowd roared.  They didn't believe him.  Corren spent some 
time restoring order in the court.  Worth concentrated on summoning his 
magic.  If he could fire one bolt at Dulog, he might revert to his true 
form.  But try as he might Worth couldn't get any magic.  He was 
drained, totally drained.  A small flicker of energy came, but it 
quickly failed.

	Corren banged his gavel, restoring order.

	Suddenly Worth got an idea.  "Your honor, I would like to cross 
examine the witness."  After all, Worth was an attorney.  This should 
be right up his alley.  Right?

	Corren nodded.  "The witness will take the stand."

	Dulog reluctantly took the appropriate seat.  Unfortunately, he 
was flanked by two Maplemen.  Worth couldn't get close enough to attack 
him.  No, Worth would have to use his mind to get out of this one.  If 
Worth could trip up Dulog's testimony, he could still save himself.

	"Dulog... describe the area of the road where we were ambushed," 
said Worth.

	"It was a dirt road, surrounded on either side by hills."

	"When the attack began, what did you do?  Did you fight?"

	Dulog looked down.  "No.  I hid in the bushes."

	The audience murmurred unsympathetically.  But there was a larger 
point they were missing; there were no bushes directly alongside the 
road!  But there was no way that Worth could prove that. Time to move 
on to another point.

	"And from the bushes you claimed to have seen me attack the 
others, and talk about Palmer.  And escape unseen.  And make your way 
safely back here," said Worth.  "Mighty warrior that you are."

	Someone in the audience chuckled.

	"Yes!  You didn't get your murderous hands on me, traitor!"

	The audience reverted to a hostile muttering.

	"I see," said Worth.  "By the way, what sort of weapons did 
Rellac and his men have?"

	"Swords."

	Worth rolled up his sleeve, showing his arrow wound.  "Where did 
I get this?"

	"I don't know."

	"I got it in the battle when the goblins shot at me with their 
arrows!"

	"Maybe one of our people did it to you, traitor."  

	The audience roared.  Worth was clearly losing them.

	 But Worth persisted in his line of questioning.  "How?  Look at 
the wound!  Look at it!  Is this the work of a sword?" said Worth, 
holding up his arm.

	"Perhaps your goblin friends had bad aim."  Dulog sneered.

	Worth took a deep breath. What else was left to ask?  He 
considered.  Perhaps there was something he could trip Dulog up on.  
"Dulog, what did Rellac look like?"  Maybe, just maybe the imposter 
hadn't done his homework.

	"He, uh... what relevance is this?"

	"It has all the relevance in the world, imposter!"  Worth 
snapped.  "Answer the question!"  He didn't know.  It was obvious.  
Worth was saved!  He had actually used his legal skills to save 
himself!  He should have been a litigator, his mother always said he 
would've been a great one...  Worth was so busy congratulating himself 
that he almost missed what happened next.

	 "Rellac was a brave and bold leader, and you killed him, just 
like you helped kill the others!" Dulog retorted.

	 The audience got into an uproar.  "Death!  Death!  Death!" the 
crowd cried.

	Corren swung the gavel again, but there was no stopping it.  

	What?  What?   Worth was confused.  Hadn't he given a great 
defense?  Hadn't anyone noticed?  What had gone wrong.

	"Death!  Death!  Death!"  The chant filled the air, and it just 
wouldn't stop.  Finally Corren gave in, and yelled, "I sentence you to 
death.  Sentence to be carried out immediately."

	The crowd cried out, reaching foward to grab Worth.

	In the middle of the town square was an elevated platform, 
containing a chopping block.  Worth was hustled over there at a rough 
pace, and brought to the top of it.  The crowds chanted, "Death!  
Death! Death!"

	Worth was shaken.  What had he done wrong?  He had done a 
brilliant cross examination.  What trial lawyer could have done better?

	 Corren meanwhile, was getting the crowds quiet.  "Quiet!" he 
yelled, banging his gavel on a railing.  "If you're not quiet, we will 
postpone the execution!" he yelled.

	That got them quiet, almost immediately. 

	C'mon, c'mon, keep on shouting, thought Worth.  But they didn't.

	Corren turned to Worth.   "The one calls himself Worth.  Do you 
have any final requests?"

	So he was one who calls himself Worth.  They didn't even believe 
that was his name.  If he were to get any help, it would have to come 
from within.  Worth breathed in, again trying for his magic.  This time 
he felt it, just a little bit.  There was still a little left.  Enough 
for one more magical attack.  He looked through the crowd, spotting 
Dulog.  Dulog was smiling gleefully.  He would probably get a bonus 
from the Black Daggers for doing such a good job.

	"Yes, I have one thing to say," said Worth, and he sent a blast, 
with all his power, at Dulog.

	It hit Dulog, in the shoulder, and he clutched it, crying out.

	Worth watched Dulog's gasping form intently.  Come on, come on, 
turn into your real self, Worth hoped.  If the monster replaced Dulog, 
he would be free and clear.

	But all they saw was Dulog, bleeding from the shoulder.  The 
crowds screamed in anger.

	How could this be?  Why didn't he change?

	Worth was still pondering this as his head was forced down on the 
chopping block.  He tried to get up, but two Maplemen held him down.  A 
third militiaman raised a sword, and-

	"Halt!" cried a commanding voice.

	It wasn't especially loud.  Worth doubted that anyone would even 
pay attention.  But everyone stopped, and a hush fell over the crowd.  
The militiaman with the sword paused, sword in the air.  But Worth was 
still pinned down, and he couldn't see who had spoken.

	"Are the people of Maple so quick to execute the innocent?" said 
the voice.  And it was a voice Worth had heard before.

	"Who... who are you?" said Corren.

	"Release him!  I am Whyse of the Wind."

	The guards let Worth up, and much to his joy, he saw Lore, brown 
beard, robes, staff and all, standing at the base of the platform.  A 
twinkle filled his eye when his gaze made contact with Worth.

	"How do we know you are who you say you are?" said the one called 
Maxan.  "We do not know what Whyse of the Wind looks like."

	"Then do not waste my time," said Whyse, dismissing him.  He 
turned to Worth.  "It is good to find you in good health, Worth."

	"I might not have been had you arrived a few seconds later," said 
Worth, self consciously scratching his neck.  "But I could say the same 
about you.  Aren't you dead?" he added, staring at his old mentor.

	"What about the execution?" Dulog cried, clutching his shoulder.  
"They are both working for the Black Daggers."

	The crowd made a surprised sound.  Some of them believed it.  
Whyse laughed, summoning his magic.

	"I tried that," said Worth.  "I think he's for real."

	But Worth just ignored him, directing a beam at Dulog.  The beam 
engulfed Dulog, though it did him to harm; but when it faded, Dulog was 
a seven foot tall monster with wide eyes.  He immediately started to 
flee from the stunned crowd, but a casual beam from Whyse's staff 
struck him, and the creature fell to the ground, and did not move.

	"I hope I did not arrive too late," said Whyse apologetically.



	"You're dead!  You died!  Whatever your name is, you died!" said 
Worth.

	They were in small quarters that Corren had provided for them.  
Worth munched on an apple, his first in days.  He was hungry.

	"Did you see me die?  Did you see my corpse?" said Whyse.  He 
seemed amused, almost.

	"And what is your name?  And what's been happening?"

	"Which question shall I answer first?" said Whyse.  "My name, 
perhaps?  Yes, I am Lore, and Whyse of the Wind, and I am called many 
other things, not always by people who hold me in great favor."

	"But your primary name is Whyse," said Worth.  It was a 
statement, not a question.  "Why did you tell me your name was Lore?"

	"Why not?  It is not good to give away one's true name too 
quickly.  And I have been known as Lore, to some.  It's just that no 
one in the Lower Threstles knew me as Lore."

	"Whyse of the Wind," said Worth.  "What does your name mean?"

	"I am a traveller," said Whyse promptly.  "That is how I met you. 
I have gone far and wide, and perhaps travelled more than most in the 
land of Koo.  But you may call me Whyse, or Lore; either is fine."  And 
he said it kindly.

	"Next question," said Worth.  "You died.  In Beech.  Nay implied 
that you were killed."

	Whyse chuckled.

	"What's so funny?" Worth demanded.

	"Do you really believe the word of a Black Dagger?" said Whyse, 
genuinely amused.  "And again, Worth, you did not see me die."

	"No, but you were so surrounded and outnumbered, and when the 
sounds of battle stop, I assumed...."

	"That I had perished.  Very well, I forgive your quick 
assumption.  You never truly knew me, or my capabilities.  The 
confrontation with Nay was dire, even more so when he was backed up by 
his minions.  I had never before been measured against Nay, and yes, 
there was some concern in my mind.  But my primary reason for sending 
you away was that I feared I could not protect you in battle from so 
many adversaries.  I sent you away because I feared for your own 
safety, not for mine."

	"But what happened?"

	Whyse's face grew grave.  "We spoke few words.  We started 
struggling almost immediately.  He directed his force against me, and I 
against his."

	"Who was stronger?" said Worth.

	Whyse raised an eyebrow.  "Power was a factor, but so was 
ability.  I know no easy answer to your question.  We struggled for 
some times, and the homes around us were flattened to the ground, due 
to the excesses of our efforts.  I was slowly overcoming his power, I 
think, and Nay saw this as well.  Then Nayorshoran called his minions 
in, and they distracted me, giving him the temporary advantage.  I 
stopped them-"

	"All of them?" said Worth, remembering how many goblins there had 
been.  30 or 40, at least.  At least.

	Whyse nodded.  "My need was great.  But when I turned my 
attention to them, Nay took advantage of my distraction, and send a 
deadly beam of energy at me.  I was barely able to counter it, and I 
was pushed back, into the remains of the house."  Whyse blinked, as if 
he was recalling something unpleasant.  "I was stunned, but only for a 
moment.  When Nay searched the home for me, I was gone."

	"I did not know what had happened to you, Worth, but I felt I had 
given you as much time as I could to effect your escape.  I could only 
hope that you would make it safely to Maple.  I was aware that you were 
alone and helpless on the road, and, more importantly, without 
guidance, but at that point it would have been difficult to find you, 
if possible at all."

	Whyse paused.  "And I had an important matter to attend to.  The 
Maytig rocks."

	"You went to Maytig too?" said Worth.

	Now it was Whyse's turn to look surprised.  "You went there, 
Worth Rodgers?"

	"Yes.  But I want to hear the rest of your story first.  I've 
earned it."

	"Perhaps you have, in more ways than I would think," said Whyse, 
giving him an appraising look.  He seemed impressed with Worth.  "I 
made my way south, through the Battle Plain.  There are goblins there, 
as you may know."

	"I know," said Worth.  "Believe me, I know."

	"I felt at times as if I were being pursued by the minions of the 
fell captain.  Several times I caught them scouring the lands, as if 
they were searching.  But I can now see that perhaps they were 
searching for more than one.  You must remember, Worth, that I thought 
you were well on your way to Maple, which was to the north."

	Worth nodded.

	"I went south, down the edge of the Battle Plain, and I 
approached the Dalias.  It was there that I sensed that I was being 
followed, by Black Daggers and a patrol of goblins.  So I set a trap 
for them.  I lit a campfire-"

	"That was your campfire!" Worth exclaimed.  "I saw the remains of 
that."

	"Did you?" said Whyse.  "Well, I lured them in, and then ambushed 
them."

	"You destroyed a troop of goblins, and Black Daggers?"

	"There were only 20 or so, and Nay, for some reason, was not with 
them.  You will learn, Worth, how helpless nonmagical creatures are in 
the face of our powers."

	"I have also learned how powerful you are," said Worth.  "Is it 
true that you are the greatest wizard in all of Koo?"

	Whyse laughed.  "I cannot say."

	"Why not?" said Worth.  "Cut with the modesty and tell me."

	Whyse laughed again, gesturing to a painting on a wall.  "Worth, 
I would have you view that portrait."

	Worth turned around.  It was a simple painting of a lake, 
abutting a bright green forest.

	"Suppose you thought that one of the best paintings you had ever 
seen.  But suppose you saw another that had better colors.  Or a better 
landscape.  Or one that demonstrated a better technique.  Or elicited a 
better mood.  Which would be best?"

	"I see," said Worth.  "You're good in some ways, not at others."

	"Precisely," said Whyse.  "For example, I believe your magical 
potential may yet prove to be even greater than mine."

	"What?" said Worth.

	"And, if true, would that make you a better wizard?"

	"Well, I haven't been trained," Worth began.

	"Precisely." said Whyse.  "But Worth, you seemed to be very 
concerned with comparison.  Be the best that you can be, and you will 
find that to be more than enough."

	"Yeah, yeah," said Worth, brushing aside the truism.  "But get on 
with your story."

	"I disposed of my immediate pursuers, and crossed the Dalias.  
Then-"

	"Wait!  How did you cross?  Did you pay the gnomes?  Or make a 
raft?"

	"No, I crossed the black rock bridge, of course."

	"Of course," repeated Worth, suddenly realizing he was referring 
to the magical bridge.  "No 'of course'!  How did you cross the magical 
bridge?  There was a magical force that wouldn't let anyone cross."

	Whyse looked puzzled.  Then his face brightened.  "I simply let 
the magical force go by me.  You simply had to channel your magic in 
such a way-" he broke off.  "I cannot easily explain it.  I will have 
to show you."

	"The next time we're down there," said Worth sarcastically.   He 
suddenly remembered seeing the robed figure crossing the bridge.  That 
must have been Whyse!  "But go on, please."

	"Yes, well, I made my way to Maytig, and recovered a rock, and 
went about my way-"

	"Whoa!" Worth cried.  "Were we at the same Maytig?  What about 
the skeletons?"

	"Oh yes," said Whyse.  "I suppose they must have been some 
problem for you.  I simply destroyed any that got too close."

	"I see," said Worth.  For Whyse it must have been so simple, so 
easy.  "But you said you got only one rock.  I have more, I have five-"

	"Five?" said Whyse.  "What possessed you to bring five?  They're 
very heavy, you know."  He looked at Worth strangely.  "One is all that 
is needed.  Five.  Five!" he chuckled.

	"Ok!" yelled Worth.  Anything to stop that laughter.  "But I 
didn't know how many I needed.  I didn't know my whole quest was 
worthless, that you were doing it for me.  I didn't know you were even 
alive!" he exploded.

	"There there," said Whyse, patting Worth on the shoulder.  "You 
did what you thought was right, with the best of intentions."

	"A waste!  All the pain, all the suffering, totally wasted!" said 
Worth, thinking of all the trouble he had taken to get the rocks in the 
first place.

	"Nonsense!  Complete and utter nonsense!" said Whyse loudly.  "I 
might have been slain.  You had no way of knowing.  If I had failed, 
the task would have fallen on you.  I am proud of what you have done, 
considering the much smaller resources you possessed.  You, after all, 
are basically untrained.  The skeletons I easily dispatched must have 
been quite difficult for you."

	"They were," said Worth, feeling pity for himself.  "But 
continue.  I want to get the whole story."

	"Very well.  I headed north, but soon after I crossed the Dalias 
I encountered Nay again.  He was alone, this time, and we were 
immediately locked in total combat.  This time I was fully rested and I 
bested him rather quickly.  Greatly weakened, he was forced to 
retreat."

	"Why didn't you finish him off?" said Worth.

	"What?"

	"Why didn't you kill him?"

	Whyse looked at Worth oddly.  "Is killing always the answer?"

	"For him, I think it is."

	Whyse looked introspective, as if he were weighing an old 
argument.  Then he said, "Perhaps I should have.  But my first priority 
was stopping Arnagon, and the goblin army.  So I headed north."

	"Did you by some chance encounter a patrol, headed by one 
Rellac?"

	"Indeed I did, but I did not pause much with them.  I see you 
have travelled much the same route as I, and I would be interested in 
hearing your tale as well."

	"After you finish," said Worth.  "I'm still not done with my 
questions."

	"Very well!  I had planned to head on a straight course for 
Maple, both to elicit the help of Palmer, and to see if you had 
arrived.  But as I traveled I saw a village, Oak, fall siege to the 
goblins.  They had little by way of a militia to protect them.  So I 
assisted in holding the goblins off, while they evacuated.  It was 
tiring, and it delayed me, but I did finally make it to Maple, just in 
time, it seems."

	"Just in time indeed!" said Worth.  "I thought I was a goner, 
after I failed to reveal the false Dulog.  I'll have to thank you for 
that."

	Whyse smiled.  "There is no need.  But now for your story.  I too 
have many questions.  How has your magical abilities progressed?  How 
did you cross the Battle Plain undetected?  And have you seen Palmer?  
I have not been able to find him."

	"He is dead," said Worth.

	Whyse looked shocked.  "This is terrible news!  Tell me what has 
happened, please, from the beginning."

	Worth told Whyse how he had gotten lost, and headed south instead 
of north.  He told how the redbearded highwaymen had beaten him up.  
And then he spoke of his encounter with Palmer.

	"He had never heard of you, at least, as Lore," said Worth.  "Why 
did you send me to him?"

	"Because there was very little other choice.  I knew of him, at 
least, and he had a reputation as a good person, though his skills as a 
wizard were not as great as some.  If I recall he was once at Kiriender 
Tal, though for some reason I never met him.  Perhaps I was out and 
about, as I often am.  In any event, although I knew he was not as 
skilled as I, at least he could offer you some protection, and perhaps 
some training as well.  Which I now suspect he did.  To send you to 
anyone else would have entailed traversing hundreds of miles of 
dangerous territory, or else entrusting you with someone who possessed 
no magical ability, which in these days is tantamount to no protection 
at all."

	"Well, he had heard of Whyse of the Wind," said Worth.  "He said 
Whyse was one of the greatest wizards.  Does that surprise you?  In any 
event, I explained to him what we had discovered, and he persuaded me 
to seek out the rocks of Maytig.  We started south on the road, till we 
came to the Battle Plain.  Then I got caught by the goblins."

	"The goblins?  How did you ever escape from them?

	Worth grimaced.  "They nearly killed me."  He explained about the 
five trials, and how he had survived each one.  Whyse's eyebrows were 
raised, especially when Worth described how he had used his magic to 
help himself survive the trials.

	"And Palmer taught you all of this, in such a short time?" said 
Whyse sharply.

	"No, well, a little," said Worth.  "I figured out some of it 
myself.  I just thought about it, and I practiced."

	"Indeed," said Whyse, eyeing Worth oddly.

	"Why are you looking at me like that?"

	"Only because it now appears that your potential is even greater 
than I first thought.  Worth, it takes months if not years of training 
to reach the point you did.  Certainly few fledgling magic users could 
have intuitively figured out certain skills on their own.  And there is 
none I know who can cast any significant magic without a staff."

	"None?" said Worth.  "Not even you?"

	"None," said Whyse.  "It is now no longer a surprise that the 
Black Daggers have been pursuing you keenly as they did.  No wonder the 
fell captain has assigned his chief lieutenant to pursue you when 
perhaps more pressing matters would require his presence elsewhere."

	"I also met up with Nay again," said Worth.  "But I'm getting 
ahead of my story."  He described how he escaped from the goblins, 
badly wounded, and how he had fallen into the care of the Talsall 
nymph.

	"The Talsall nymph!" exclaimed Whyse.  "I am very surprised to 
see you here, Worth."	

	"You know of her?" said Worth.

	"Not the Talsall, not specifically.  But I am familiar with 
nymphs, and their lairs.  None who go in return.  They become slaves, 
slaves to the passions of the nymphs, and reside there for the rest of 
their lives.  Only the most strong of will, I think, could ever leave."

	"Well, I must be in that category, I guess," said Worth.  "The 
nymph healed me, but then she wouldn't let me go.  I became her sex 
slave.  And I liked it too, every time she took control of my mind."

	"Then however did you regain your wits?"

	"I don't know," said Worth.  "But periodically her control would 
wane, and she would have to spell me again.  Maybe I had magical 
resistance.  Anyway, I didn't have enough magical resistance to escape.  
Palmer threw me my staff, and that helped clear my mind, but in the end 
it was Palmer who pulled me out."

	"Ah yes, your staff.  May I see it?" said Whyse.

	Worth handed it over, although he felt a strange reluctance to 
part wit it, even to give it to one he trusted so much.

	"Yes, yes," said Whyse, feeling it all over.  "It has all the 
right properties, if only in the moderate amount.  It is the wood of 
the Undulas, I believe.  Hm.  I am even surprised you found any of its 
ilk growing in that part of the Lower Threstles."  He studied the staff 
further.  "It is unpolished, and unadapted, but I am not surprised you 
found some use in it.  Yes, considering your resources, this was a good 
choice, good, good."  He handed it back.

	"I'm glad you think so," said Worth.  He discussed their travels 
southward, now in the company of Dulog as well.  And then he told of 
Palmer's last stand, at the edge of the Battle Plain.  To this Whyse 
listened most intently, asking Worth to repeat parts of his story 
again.

	"You actually saw Palmer's body struck, and fell to the ground?" 
said Whyse.

	Worth nodded.

	"Alas!" said Whyse.  "Then perhaps it is true."  He bowed his 
head for a moment.  "I never knew him, but heard good things of him; 
but if he passed in defense of his beliefs, his goals, then maybe that 
was something."

	"I felt the same way," said Worth.  "I just want to kill that 
Nay.  In fact, I almost did.  Twice."

	Whyse looked startled.  "You have not ceased to amaze me, Worth 
Rodgers, ever since I first met you.  Were I talking to anyone else I 
might think they were making idle boasts.  But please continue."

	"I cloaked myself on the edge of the cliff-"

	Whyse interrupted, making Worth explain how he did that.  He 
seemed more interested in learning how Worth had figured it out on his 
own rather than actually verifying that he was telling the truth.  Then 
he allowed Worth to continue.

	"We made it to the river, but we couldn't cross the magical 
bridge.  I saw someone crossing in the distance, who I now realize was 
you.  There was another bridge, but we couldn't cross either, because 
of those fucking gnomes.  What is it with them, do they own all the 
bridges in Koo?"

	"Hardly," said Whyse.  "I know the ones you speak of.  They are 
profiteers, and there is little they will not do to turn a gold piece."

	"Well, I handled them all right.  But that comes later in my 
story," said Worth.  He recounted how he and Dulog had crossed the 
river on the flimsy raft Worth had constructed, and how they had been 
attacked by the alligators and the Black Daggers all the way across.  
Worth also told how he had nearly been deceived by the false Palmer.

	"Yes, the Anchen," said Whyse, nodding sagely.  "Much like the 
one who impersonated this Dulog, I suspect.  They are expert at 
altering their form and shape.  All they need do is see and hear their 
victim."

	"See and hear?  See and hear?" said Worth.  "Then how could it 
have mimicked Palmer's voice?"

	"You said when Palmer encountered Nay he was accompanied by Black 
Daggers," said Whyse.   "The Anchen could easily have been posing as 
one of them."

	"Oh," said Worth, suddenly crestfallen.  For a moment he had 
thought there was a chance, just a chance, that Palmer was still alive.

	"It is possible," said Whyse, knowing full well what Worth was 
pondering.  "If so, then the fell captain has him captive in his 
castle.  If we beat back this evil we may be able to save Palmer, if he 
lives."

	Worth nodded.  He continued with his story, describing how he and 
Dulog had arrived at Maytig, and how they nearly were trapped in the 
house.

	"You went into the Lesur'p house!" said Whyse.  "That was an 
incredibly foolish thing to do!"

	"How was I supposed to know that?" said Worth.  "I don't even 
know what a lickslurp house is.  I didn't have the AAA book on Maytig 
to advise me, you know."  Whyse looked puzzled.  Snorting, Worth 
continued, telling Whyse how he had found the rocks and recovered five 
of them.  Worth also recounted how the Black Daggers had been nice 
enough to provide them with equestrian transportation back to the 
river.  Whyse could not help but smile when he heard how Worth had 
intimidated the gnomes, and then destroyed the bridge after he had 
crossed.  Indeed, Whyse was laughing when Worth described how the 
mounted Black Dagger, leaping from one side of the bridge to the other, 
fell into the Dalias and was swept away.

	Worth then told of his encounter with the Maplemen, led by 
Rellac. "They said they had seen you.  But they also said that you had 
straight black hair, and were, well, younger.  How could that be?" he 
said.  Actually, Worth had been wondering about that for some time.  He 
was convinced that this was the real Lore, and yet....

	Whyse smiled, summoning his magic.  Worth felt a little alarmed, 
but he did nothing.  He watched Whyse's shape shimmer, and before 
Worth's eyes he turned into a younger man, with black hair parted to 
the side.

	Changing back, Whyse said, "I thought it might make it a bit more 
difficult for the spies of the fell captain to track me if I took on a 
different appearance.  I felt no need to change back until I arrived at 
Maple."

	"But didn't you have to exert magic continually to do that?"

	"No," said Whyse.  "It's more of a passive... well, it would take 
a great deal of time to explain, and we've already spent half the 
evening talking.  Please go on, Worth."

	"We got ambushed by the goblins, hit in the Waltons," said Worth, 
wincing a little at the memory.

	"The Warklutans."

	"Whatever.  Everyone was killed.  At least I think everyone was 
killed.  Although I'm starting to think that they took Dulog a 
prisoner, at least long enough to copy him," said Worth.  "I barely 
escaped, taking an arrow in the arm."

	Whyse suddenly stared at Worth's arm.  He even seemed to know 
which was the wounded one.  "And it still hurts you," he said softly, 
summoning his magic again.

	"Yes, I tried to heal it with my magic, but was only slightly-
hey!"

	Whyse had reached out, and gently touched Worth's arm.  Worth's 
arm started to glow.  Neither of them said anything for a moment, as 
Whyse seemed to concentrate, looking at something that Worth could not 
see.  When Whyse let up and leaned back Worth cautiously moved his arm.  

	"You did it!  You healed me!" said Worth joyously.  "I can move 
my arm again!  Without any pain!  Thank you, Whyse, thank you!"

	"There is nothing more sorely missed than a thing we are used to 
possessing," said Whyse.  "But Worth, it is beginning to get late, and 
I would hear the rest of your story."

	"I escaped," said Worth, still wincing with the memory.  "Then I 
fled from an attack of the killer balloons-"

	"Killer balloons?"

	"Small round things that float around, stinging people?  They 
make 'bleep bleep bleep' sounds?"

	Whyse nodded.  "They are called Oquns.  I did not think there 
would be any in that part of the  Lower Threstles.  They prefer wetter 
climates.  In any event, one or two are not very dangerous."

	"Well, there were thousands of them!" said Worth.  "Or maybe I 
dreamed that part.  I don't know.  Anyway, I got caught up in the 
Woodlings, and was taken captive by two rival groups of savages, and-" 
Worth recounted the rest of that story.  He didn't play up his role in 
instigating the battle between the two groups, nor did Whyse ask him 
about it.  But when  he described how he killed the highwaymen, Whyse 
blanched.  "You had them fighting each other?  Wounded persons fighting 
each other?"

	"They nearly killed me the first time!" said Worth.  "And they 
would have, if they could have."

	"Worth, I must teach you the ethics of using your power," said 
Whyse.

	"What would you have done?" said Worth.  "Given them a love tap 
and gone on your way?"

	"Perhaps I would have disabled one or two of them and given the 
others a chance to back away."

	"I did.  I killed one of them.  That didn't stop them."  And then 
Worth remembered how he had hunted the leader in the forest, and he 
blushed.

	"Still, the cruel way you dispatched the last two highwaymen...."

	"We'll get back into it another time," said Worth.  "Perhaps if 
you had been as badly beaten up as I was by them, you would feel 
differently."

	"Perhaps," said Whyse.  "Continue, please."

	It was then, towards the end of his story, that Whyse took the 
most interest.  His eyes widened when Worth described the battle with 
Nay.

	"Fool!" said Whyse.  "You could have been killed.  You were 
totally untrained!"

	"I almost handled him!" said Worth.  "And he killed Palmer, and I 
thought he killed you!  Doesn't that count for something?"

	Whyse's expression softened.  "You are important, Worth, and you 
will become powerful, even more so than you are now.  That is why you 
should not expose yourself to unnecessary risks.  But I am interested; 
you say that intuitively, on your own, without any training from 
Palmer, you determined how to construct a shield of your own, and that 
you withstood many attacks from Nay.  Most impressive."

	"The only problem is, I don't know how to hold the shield up and 
fire at the same time," said Worth.

	"I will teach you," said Whyse.  "Before I leave you, I will 
teach you."

	"Leave me?  Going somewhere?"

	"And then after your battle with Nay you were captured by the 
Maplemen," said Whyse, dodging the question.  "Yes, I see the rest of 
the story."  He sighed.  "You have gone through many difficulties, 
Worth Rodgers, more than I anticipated when I brought you here."  He 
paused a moment.  "As you know, I did come to you, initially, to 
recruit you.  It is likely that my presence in your world allowed the 
fell captain to become aware of you.  It was quite unintentional, I 
assure you."

	"I know, I know," said Worth.  "I've had a hard time living it 
down, I can assure you."

  Whyse paused, as if thinking carefully about what he was about to 
say.  "Worth, we are under siege."

	"From Arnagon?"

	Whyse nodded.  "Arnagon, yes, but even he is but one of many 
evils here in Koo.  The forces of evil are many, and they are growing.  
The civilized people are forced to flee, or they are captured or kill.  
The problem all goes back to the bad chaos.  Before the bad chaos there 
were a host of wizards, enough to protect the cities, the towns, the 
realms."

	His expression grew serious.  "In fact, there may have been too 
many.  Some conflicts were started between wizards.  But I will not 
speak of that.  When the bad chaos came, and many of the cities were 
wiped out, most of the wizard class was eliminated.  Systematically.  
They were the prime targets of the fell captains.  The few who survived 
were forced to flee, to regroup and muster their forces for the grand 
counterattack.  Even the battle that drove the bad chaos back cost the 
lives of most of the few remaining wizards there were.  That is why a 
region such as the Lower Threstles, which in normal times would have 
perhaps 15 wizards of varying skills and abilities, has only one.  Had 
only one," Whyse corrected himself.  "Why, I remember a time when the 
halls of the Sage dome in Kiriender Tal was filled to capacity, with 
eager young minds and bright new talents...." he winced and broke off, 
as if the memory was too painful for him.

	"The few of us that were left banded together, and attempted to 
systematically train successors  after the end of the bad chaos.  And 
successors were trained.  But much of the old knowledge was lost, and 
even in the safer days long after the end of the bad chaos, our numbers 
grew only slowly."	

	"Why was that?  Couldn't you open training schools?"

	"Magic is not something that one learns by rote," said Whyse.  
"It requires much individual attention."

	"I seemed to have learned a fair amount on my own," said Worth.

	"Yes, yes you have," said Whyse.  "Quite frankly, your progress 
has been phenomenal.  That is why I sought you out.  I recently 
discovered the art of... travelling to far places.  I also possess the 
ability, under limited circumstances, to detect those who have great 
magical potential.  That is how I came across you.  You see, Worth, we 
need help to turn the tide.  People like you can help us do that."

	"You had no right!" said Worth.  Suddenly he felt angry.  In a 
way he blamed Whyse for everything that had happened.  "You had no 
right at all!  I'm not even from your own world!  Your meddling has set 
the fell captain after me, and now I'll never be safe!  I've almost 
been killed or captured a dozen times since I've gotten here!  How can 
you possibly justify that?" 

	"With the lives of everyone in Koo," said Whyse quietly.  "It was 
not something I embarked upon lightly.  I realized the consequences."

	"What about me?  Did you ever give me a chance to make a 
decision?"

	"There wasn't time.  Arnagon's minions were too close."

	"How convenient," Worth sneered.  "I think this fit into your 
plans."

	"No, I was telling the truth.  I was not aware, until shortly 
before I met you, that the forces of Arnagon were trailing me.  I had 
been searching for you for some time, making periodic visits to your 
world. Then I received word that I was needed in the Lower Threstles, 
that the fell captain had returned.  I was about to suspend my search 
for you when I detected the cross jumps of the goblins.  Then I knew I 
had to find you.  To protect you, just as I said.  Yes, I also wanted 
to recruit you.  But at the time my primary intent was to protect you.  
I'm sorry to get you involved in this, I always intended to present you 
with a clear choice.  And I will do my best to make amends, by dealing 
with the source of your problem, and Maple's Arnagon."

	"We're going to take him on?" said Worth, wide eyed.

	"I will," said Whyse.  "It is my duty."

	"I will too!" said Worth.

	"No.  You are correct in stating that I involved you in this 
against your wishes.  You needn't risk yourself."

	"I want to help!" said Worth.

	Whyse cracked a smile.  "I was hoping you would volunteer 
yourself.  I would be foolish to turn down your offer of assistance 
twice.  Now, has your anger at the Maplemen abated?"

	"Why do you ask?"

	"Because I'm going to need your help to defend them from the 
goblin army that's going to arrive here in two days."


Chapter 14:  The Battle for Maple Ridge



	"But we routed the goblins!" said Corren.  It was the following 
morning, and he and his senior military commanders were sitting in his 
chambers, listening to Whyse's presentation.  Worth sat at the side.

	"Incorrect," said Whyse.  "You routed their probing force."

	"Probing force?" said Maxan.  "There must have been 500 goblins 
in that so-called probing force."

	"Correct," said Whyse.  "You may not know it, but I started out 
for Maple before Worth.  He arrived here first only because I took a 
small detour.  Among other tasks, I scouted out the goblin positions.  
I even walked among them, once, though they did not see me.  You would 
get a clearer view, I think, from the mountain ranges to the east.  
They are coming, and they are now no more than a day and a half away, 
at a maximum."

	"How many are there?" said the commander of the united forces of 
Maple.  His name was Fried, and he was a seasoned warrior.

	"They didn't stand in rows, making them easy to count," said 
Whyse.  "And some of them were nearly always on the move.  Nonetheless 
I estimate I saw 5000, and I am certain I did not see them all.  I 
would guess, in all, there are six to seven thousand.  All armed, all 
well equipped."

	"Seven thousand," said Corren, stunned.

	"And that was only the goblins.  There were several hundred Black 
Daggers as well," said Whyse.  "Led, no doubt, by Nayorshoran."

	Corren gave Whyse a sharp glance.  "Is there anything else you 
would tell us, Whyse of the Wind?"

	"Yes, there is," said Whyse.  "You should prepare for an attack.  
You have little more than a day.  What is your disposition of forces?"

	All the army commanders looked at each other.  Then Fried spoke.  
"On paper, not so bad.  We have a little over 2000 regular forces, 
under the direct command of Maxan.  They are reasonably equipped, and 
fairly well trained."

	"Fairly well trained!" said Maxan, taking it as an insult.

	"Fairly well trained, indeed!" said Fried, meeting his glance.  
"This is not an imperial army of the olden days.  I would count us 
lucky if we measured up to the forces of the old Wayfarer confederacy, 
or the Lackenridge force.  Even our regular soldiers are part time 
farmers.  We must be honest with ourselves, for we will be forced to be 
honest in battle."  He took a deep breath.  "Now, beyond that, we have 
maybe 4,000-"

	"4,300, by the latest figures," said Maxan.

	"Yes, 4,300 in the way of reserve militiamen, under the command 
of Colonel Notham," said Fried, nodding to one of the seated men.  
"Colonel, what is the state of your troops?"

	 A middle aged officer spoke.  "They're eager to fight, and 
morale is high, but to be honest, our training has been limited.  As 
you know, more than half of them signed up fairly recently, when the 
big trouble started, and we haven't had time to work on any formal 
maneuvers.  The regular reservists, about 1,800, have had a little 
training, and they all have swords.  I can't say that for the new 
people."

	"How many of them are without weapons?" said Corren, alarmed.

	"Maybe... 500, almost."

	"What? Did you check the armory?" said Corren.

	"We already emptied it.  And as you know, Mayor, it takes time to 
forge new weapons."

	"I see," said Corren, sitting back in his chair.  The smitties 
were working overtime, but couldn't manage to manufacture more than a 
handful of weapons every day.  The mayor looked very disturbed.  
"Continue."

	"Then there are the militiamen from the villages that were 
emptied by the invading goblins.  We've a bunch of people coming our 
way who are willing to fight, but few with experience and fewer with 
weapons," said Fried.  "The exception is the people from Willow.  They 
helped put up a stiff fight, with the help of Tel here," he added, 
nodding to an officer to his right who wore a thin moustache.

	"Thanks," said Tel.  "But we had a lot of help from you Maplemen.  
I can tell you this:  I have 150 Willowers ready to fight, armed with 
weapons.  We have another 100 from Oak, 50 from Beech, and maybe a 
hundred more from the other villages that have been hit.  We've been 
able to scare up weapons for all of them, and they have all agreed to 
fight, under my unified command."

	"That's 400, then," said Corren.  "Add Commander Maxan's 2000, 
Colonel Nothan's 4,300, and that's... 6,700, but only 6,200 with arms.  
So the enemy outnumbers us, then, but not by overwhelming numbers."

	"Do not forget that the Black Daggers, though relatively few, are 
worth more than their small numbers would signify," said Whyse.  "They 
are experts in the use of weapons, and certainly in the art of war.  
Even Commander Maxan's troops, no doubt, would find them a challenge to 
beat on even terms."

	"And what of Nay?  And Arnagon?  Will you handle them, Whyse of 
the Wind?" said Maxan suddenly.

	Whyse smiled.  "Of Nay, yes, I will be his counter; and do not 
fear, I have bested him before.  Hopefully I will be able to check him 
before he causes great harm, though no one here can predict how the 
battle will unfold with any certainty.  As for Arnagon, he will not 
venture out into battle.  I know him, he is powerful; and yet he will 
not emerge into the open, save when the need is great."

	"And who will handle him when he does?" said Maxan.

	"I will," said Whyse simply.  "But first things first.  We have a 
battle plan to prepare, a strategy to make.  I will help you as best I 
can to defeat the goblins; and Worth has also volunteered in this 
effort."

	Whyse started murmurring with the commanders.  Corren approached 
Worth.  "Thank you," he said.  "Whyse has told us that you are a very 
great wizard.  I imagine we did not make a very good impression.  I am 
sorry, but we took great loses in retaking Willow, and the people were 
angry."

	"I understand," said Worth.  "That duplicate of Dulog could have 
fooled anyone."

	Maxan also approached Worth.  "I too would apologize.  It would 
seem my judgment was mistaken as well."

	Worth raised an eyebrow.  He hadn't expected this, not from the 
brash commander of the regular troops.  But he nodded, and shook 
Maxan's hand.

	"We'll need all the help you can give us," said Maxan.

	Worth nodded.  He wondered just how much that would be.

	That afternoon, Worth discovered that he couldn't find his staff.  
The Maplemen had returned his posessions, including the Maytig rocks.  
Even though Worth knew that Whyse had his own Maytig rocks, Worth was 
reluctant to dispose of his, if only because it would underscore what a 
wasted effort his entire trek had been.  But now Worth could not find 
his staff, and he was beginning to worry that an agent of the enemy had 
stolen it.

	Suddenly Whyse entered their quarters.  

	"Whyse, have you seen my staff?" said Worth, by now frantic to 
locate it.

	"You mean this?" said Worth, taking a long piece of wood out of 
his robes.

	"My staff!"  Worth inspected it closely.  It was polished now, 
even at the ends, which had been roughly cut.  It shined now, in an odd 
way.  "You polished it."

	"No, I did not," Whyse chuckled.  "But that is a beneficial side 
effect.  Can you sense anything from your staff?"

	"No...." Suddenly, Worth concentrated.  He did start to feel 
small emanations from the wood, emanations he had never felt before.  
"Hey!" he said.  

	"Examine your staff carefully."

	Worth did.  He looked at it, and he felt it.  Suddenly there were 
magical emanations.  They were faint, but they were definitely there.

	Whyse took him out to the countryside, on the edge of Maple, in 
an abandoned field.

	"Summon your magic," Whyse instructed.

	Worth obeyed.  He felt it flowing through his body.

	"Now channel it through your staff."

	Worth did so, feeling an incredible concentration of energy 
building up.  He then let it flow through his body, and Worth felt more 
magic, certainly more than he had ever felt before.  "Wow!" he said 
weakly.  

	"That is a staff's basic function, to enhance your magical 
skills," said Whyse.

	"But I've never felt it do anything like this before."

	"I had only part of a morning to work on it," said Whyse.  "I did 
not have the right tools, and I wasn't able to work on the finishing.  
And the wood, while suitable for magical conduction, is hardly 
something I would choose as a first choice.  But as you can see, what 
time I did spend on it was not wasted."

	"I'll say," said Worth.  He felt that his power had multiplied.  
"I only wish Palmer had done this earlier."

	"He had not the ability to do even the part I did," said Whyse.

	Worth looked up at Whyse appraisingly.  "Whyse of the Wind, if 
you are the greatest wizard in all of Koo, I will be comforted by your 
presence in battle."

	Whyse harrumphed and said, "We had best begin our practice.  Make 
me a hole, if you please, in the ground.  A deep one, if you will."

	Worth took a breath, and focused his energy.  When he felt he had 
a powerful burst built up, he sent it forth, blasting into the ground.  
When the smoke had cleared, he saw a sizable hole, at least eight feet 
deep.

	"Wow!" said Worth, clearly amazed.  "I didn't know I could do 
that.  And I'm not even tired, not really!"

	Whyse nodded, "The staff helped, but you are also gaining 
endurance.  Now I will teach you how to fire off energy balls."

	"How long does it normally take to learn that?"

	"Most do not have the power or the ability to learn. Those that 
do can take up to several years to learn it properly."

	"And how long do I have?"

	"We move on to the next exercise in thirty minutes."

	But Worth was astonished when, just three minutes later, balls of 
energy floated lightly out of his fingertips, blasting into the 
neighboring trees.  Militiamen on patrol, wondering what had happened, 
rushed to the scene, but Whyse shooed them away.

	"Wow," said Worth weakly, watching the scorched trees.

	"Your power application was weak, but sufficient for our 
purposes," said Whyse.

	"That was weak?" said Worth incredulously.

	"It was sufficient for the goblins," said Whyse.  "That is all we 
need be concerned about.  I'm more worried about your aim.  You must 
have control, or else you are liable to fry your own troops!"

	He drilled Worth on that for some time, but Worth found it 
difficult to steer the glowing balls once they flowed from his 
fingertips.  With a little practice, however, his aim improved, and he 
was at least able to aim his energy balls in the general area he was 
shooting at.

	They took a break from launching energy balls, for Worth was 
quickly getting tired.  "A rest, I need a rest," he gasped, as he felt 
himself weakening.

	"Very well," said Whyse, drawing his sword.

	"Wha... what?" said Worth.

	"Time is limited, yours and mine.  I will be busy in the 
afternoon, so if we are to practice at all, it will have to be now."

	They cut and thrust against each other for some time.  Worth 
quickly learned that Whyse was not only an exceptional wizard but a 
crack swordmaster as well.  He could always cut through Worth's 
defenses in seconds, slashing just inches away from his skin.

	"Faster!  You must be faster!" said Whyse, as they paused for a 
few moments.  "Or else the Black Daggers will cut you to ribbons!"

	"I've handled Black Daggers," said Worth.

	"With magic, perhaps," said Whyse.  "But have you had a full 
fledged sword fight with a single Black Dagger?"

	Worth thought back.  There had been those three had had disposed 
of using his magic... and yesterday he had killed one of Nay's guards.  
But he recognized that that had been a fluke.

	"My question is answered," said Whyse, reading his expression.  
"You must always watch the enemy's sword, Worth.  You must always know 
where it is."

	"Yeah yeah," said Worth.  He raised his sword.  "Ready for some 
more practice?"

	"No.  There is little time remaining.  We will now return to your 
magical training."

	Whyse quickly gave Worth pointers in creating and maintaining a 
magical shield.  Worth already understood the basics; Whyse was just 
helping him with the finer points.

	"Will this deflect a physical attack?" said Worth, raising a 
shield.

	"You do not know?" said Whyse, drawing his sword.  Before Worth 
could react he stabbed out, and with the point of his sword jabbed 
Worth softly in the stomach.

	"Hey!" Worth cried, as his magic failed.  He lifted his shirt.  
There was a small red spot on his skin.  "That hurt."

	"You should always know the limits of your magic," said Whyse.  
"There is a way of creating a magical shield to protect yourself from 
physical attacks, but it is much more complicated to construct, and we 
have not the time.  Nor do you have the expertise."

	"No expertise?" said Worth.  "I can do anything I put my mind 
to!"

	"Very well," said Whyse calmly.  "Please raise your magical 
shield."

	Worth complied.

	"Now launch a magical attack at the ground."

	Worth grimaced.  He fired off a bolt, but his shield fell... and 
in that instant, Whyse launched a bolt of energy, that hit Worth 
squarely in the chest.  It was more of a pushing force than an energy 
bolt, so Worth was not physically hurt.  But his pride was.

	"Do not overestimate your ability," said Whyse.  "Now, again."

	But Worth couldn't do it.  Everytime he launched an energy bolt 
his shield would fail.  He simply could not concentrate on the two 
things at once.  "It's not possible," he wailed.

	Whyse raised his eyebrows.  Worth felt the vibrations of magic in 
the air.  Suddenly a small rock was raised into the air.  Then another, 
and another, and another.

	Whyse was controlling four rocks at one time.  Worth gasped, but 
Whyse wasn't done yet.  Suddenly four bolts shot out of Whyse, turning 
the rocks into dust, which trickled to the ground.

	"Wow!" said Worth.

	"And do not underestimate your ability, either," said Whyse.  
"You must learn yourself, Worth."  He put a hand on Worth's shoulder, 
and then he turned away, quickly departing.  Worth did not see him 
again for many hours.

	Worth had lunch at one of the field cafeterias that had been 
hastily set up for the soldiers.  Many of the soldiers, especially the 
regulars, recognized Worth, and gave him friendly nods.  For a person 
who had been condemned to death only yesterday, Worth had made a 
stunning recovering in popularity.  He had just settled down for lunch 
when a soldier sat down on the grass by him saying, "Can I join you?"

	Worth looked up.  It was one of the commanders.  "Sure, uh...."

	"Tel," said the man, sitting down.  "Commander of the Threstles 
Irregulars."

	"Irregulars?" said Worth.  "You mean the reservists?"

	"No," said Tel.  "Merely a fancy name for the surviving militias 
of all the villages that have been raided."

	"Just how many have been raided?"

	"Seven.  It was five yesterday, but we've gotten word that two 
more have been attacked.  The goblins are heading in a straight line to 
Maple, that's for sure.  Their main force has been spotted at Root and 
refugees tell us that they've just ploughed through Fern.  That's about 
a day from Willow, and not much farther from here."

	"You seem very calm about it," said Worth.  "Doesn't it anger you 
that your homes are being destroyed?"

	"I saw it happen, in Willow," said Tel.  "I was the deputy 
commander of the militia there.  We formed the rearguard, allowing our 
people time to escape."  His chest puffed up a little.  "We also were 
the pointmen on the counterattack that retook Willow yesterday.  Our 
militia had been routed, and Commander Sark had been killed.  I 
reorganized our remaining force, and directed our forces forward, 
center flank.  With the Maplemen supporting us, we retook the city.  
But it was a tremendous battle.  The evil wizard who opposed us was 
terrible, sending stabbing beam of energy into our ranks, and fear into 
our hearts.  It was only when he withdrew that we were able to make 
significant progress."

	"I think I knew why he withdrew," said Worth.  "He sensed me 
coming.  Nay was after me."

	"You confronted him?  Nayorshoran?"

	Worth nodded.

	"And you live!  You must be a mighty wizard!"

	Worth remembered Whyse's injunction not to misdefine himself.  
"That's difficult to answer," he said with a smile.  "But you didn't 
answer my question.  Doesn't it bother you that you can't take the 
fight to the enemy?"

	Tel nodded.  "I would be lying if I said otherwise.  What remains 
of Willow, I am sure, will be overrun again before this time tomorrow.  
But a village is a thing, a place, and places can be rebuilt.  People 
cannot.  Most of our people got out safely, and we can best continue to 
protect them if we work together, as a coherent force, here at Maple."

	They finished lunch.   Tel offered to take Worth on a tour of the 
troops.  Worth, who, with the disappearance of Whyse, felt very much 
alone, readily agreed.

	They walked along the training field.  Men were working out with 
swords.  They looked fairly capable, at least to Worth's untrained eye.  
All operated smoothly with their weapons.  They looked like men trained 
for battle, and each wore a leather jerkin with a small tree painted on 
the side of them.  These, Worth surmized, were the regulars.

	His suspicion was confirmed when  Maxan approached.  "Ah, Worth, 
first I see Whyse, and then you!  Admiring the troops?"

	Worth nodded.  "They look capable."

	"They are.  But there are only 2,000 of them.  We'll need close 
support from the other units."

	"You'll get it, Maxan," said Tel.

	Maxan nodded, but he didn't seemed convinced.  Then he was called 
over by one of his subcommanders, and Worth and Tel moved on.

	"He believes that we will let him down," said Tel.  "It is true 
that his troops are the best trained, but we will all fight to the 
fullest."

	They walked by another group of troops now.  These did not have 
leather armor, or uniforms of any sort.  Many had swords, but some 
practiced with sticks.  Even Worth, who was hardly a trained soldier, 
could see how clumsy they were.  One soldier swung his sword against 
another, but he was so unused to the weight of his weapon that he fell 
after it, collapsing to the ground.  Another swung his sword, and his 
opponent failed to parry, but the first soldier could not stop his 
sword, and the side of it slammed into his opponent.  A few seemed 
comfortable enough with swords, but most swung them awkwardly, as if 
they felt uncertain.

	Worth, a recent entry into the ranks of dueling, knew how they 
felt.  But this was a bad sign for the allied forces.

	"The reservists," Tel whispered.

	They walked by the commander of the reservists, who was 
conferring with his aides.  "Hail, Tel, Worth," he said.

	"Hail, Notham," said Tel.  "How is the training coming?"

	They heard a scream, as one of the troops accidently tripped on 
his scabbard and plunged to the ground.

	Notham winced.  "We're, ah, doing the best we can.  These aren't 
imperial soldiers, you understand, but I expect we'll be up to 
defending Maple tomorrow."

	"Good, good," said Tel, as he and Worth walked by.

	"We're doomed," Worth muttered, as they moved out of earshot.

	"If we are doomed, we won't give up without a fight," said Tel.  
He and Worth walked to where a third group of soldiers were stationed.  
"And this is where my men are."

	Tel's Irregulars also had no uniform, and some of them were 
clumsy with their weapons, but many others were obviously skilled.  
Worth watched as one soldier expertly cut under another's guard, gently 
but firmly tagging him in the ribs.

	"The biggest problem is coordinating our forces," said Tel.  "I 
have a command here composed of people from seven villages who, until 
two days ago, had never even met each other.  I've put experienced 
Willowers in position of authority, but, quite frankly, I'll be 
satisfied if we just manage  to stay together in battle."

	"A frank assessment," said Worth.  "You are very honest about 
your weaknesses."

	"If I am not, the enemy certainly will be."

	"You talk a little like Whyse," said Worth.

	"Well, that is a high compliment," said Tel.  He was about to 
respond further when a woman approached.  She had long dark hair, that 
flowed down to her shoulders.

	"Yes, Chelsea?" said Tel.

	"My father wants you and all the senior commanders to come to a 
meeting this evening after the dinner bell," she said.  She turned her 
blue eyes towards Worth.  "The presence of the one called Worth is also 
requested."

	"And who is your father?" said Worth.

	"The Mayor," she said simply.

	Oh.  That meant Corren.

	Tel turned to Worth.  "I must get back to my troops.  We have 
much final training to complete.  Worth, Chelsea," he said, waving 
goodbye.

	When he had gone Worth looked at the ground. He appeared to be 
deep in thought.

	"Something troubles you, oh great wizard?"

	Worth looked up, to see the woman, Chelsea, looking at him.  He 
cracked a smile.  "Just call me Worth."

	"I am told that you come from another place, another world, 
Worth."

	"You hear a lot," said Worth.

	They started walking, in no particular direction.

	"What is it like, in your other world?" said Chelsea.

	"What is what like?" Worth countered

	"Your people, your culture... are you a great wizard in your 
world as well?" She was very curious about him.  Chelsea had heard that 
the stranger came from another land, another world, and wanted to learn 
about it.  She had never travelled much, and news travelled slowly, so 
talking to travellers was one of the few ways she could find out about 
far away places.

	"Am I a great wizard in my world?" said Worth, repeating the 
question as he stalled for time.  How to answer such a question?  "In 
the area of mergers and acquisitions...." Worth joked, but his face 
grew serious when he saw her lack of comprehension.  "No, I am not a 
wizard."

	"Then what do you do?  Are you a farmer, or a merchant?"

	"No."

	"A soldier, perhaps?  Or a leader?"

	"No," said Worth.  "I'm an attorney."

	"At-turn-ee," she said, repeating it slowly.  "What does this 
mean?"

	"Sometimes I wonder that myself," said Worth.  "It means... it 
means many things.  It's difficult to explain.  My job is to help... 
merchants buy and sell their goods."

	"Why would they need help with that?" said Chelsea, her pretty 
face filled with confusion.

	"Um... they seek to sell complicated things.  Pieces of paper."

	"Why would anyone seek to-"

	"Let me tell you more about my land," said Worth, changing the 
subject.  "We have buildings, tall buildings, some just as tall as your 
mountains."

	"Really?  What magic can do that?"

	"No magic.  Architecture.  And we drive around in cars.  Buggies 
without horses.  And we shop in malls, huge stores with many little... 
merchants in them.  And we have television, a way of sending pictures 
and sound an incredibly-" he broke off, seeing her gaze at him in 
wonder.  "What?"

	"You indeed live in a magical world, Worth," said Chelsea.

	"Magical?  Well, I guess it's a matter of perspective," said 
Worth.  He sighed.  "I haven't had a decent bath since I was in Beech, 
and that was days ago.  Is there anywhere I can go to get a bath around 
here?"

	There was.  A bath helped Worth to relax.  He was very tense 
about tomorrow.  He was clean, now, and he felt refreshed from the 
previous night's sleep.  At dinner he positively glowed.  He ate with 
the troops.  They knew that battle was in the offing for tomorrow, and 
though they were worried, they were also cautiously optimistic.  
Corren, the Mayor, addressed the troops before the beginning of dinner.  
The sun was just starting to dip behind the far hills when he stood in 
the center of the assembled troops, flanked by Fried and the other 
commanders.  Whyse also stood to his side, looking solemn.

	"Soldiers of Maple," he said.  "Tomorrow it seems very likely 
that you will go into battle.  We face the hoardes of the fell captain.  
His force, I feel certain, is strong.  We face a difficult battle.  At 
the same time, this is not the same as the bad chaos.  Though we are 
fewer, so is the enemy.  And there is only one fell captain to combat."

	Corren paused, then continued.  "We may be outnumbered, but not 
by large amounts.  Our troops are prepared and ready to go.  General 
Fried tells me that you men are in excellent shape.  Colonel Maxan's 
crack troops  will be the core of our force.  Commander Notham's troops 
will make up the body of our defense.  And Commander Tel tells me that 
his Irregulars are ready and eager for battle, to avenge the deaths of 
their lost villagers.  What is more, we are priviledged to have magical 
assistance.  As you know, Palmer of Maple fell before the Black 
Daggers."

	There was a startled murmur.  Everyone had heard, but the news 
was still unsettling.

	"However, we have not one but two wizards to defend us.  One of 
them is Whyse of the Wind, the greatest and most powerful wizard in all 
of Koo!"

	A thunderous applause went up.

	"In addition, we also have another powerful magic user with us, 
Whyse's assistant, Worth... of New York City."

	The troops clapped again and Worth grinned, staring at the ground 
modestly.  He wondered how they knew about New York City.  Whyse must 
have told them.

	"Tomorrow we will do battle," said Corren.  "Our civilian 
population has already started evacuating to the west, and tomorrow 
morning the remainder will go.  By tomorrow afternoon Maple should, if 
we're on schedule, be safely evacuated."

	"But I must stress there is no where for the evacuees to go.  If 
the goblins sweep by us, they will barely pause at Maple, and will 
quickly destroy our people on the West road.  We must stop them, and we 
will stop them!  We will stop them here!  We will stop them now!  Death 
to the goblins!  Death to the fell captain!"

	"Death to the goblins!  Death to the fell captain!" they all 
shouted.

	And then someone struck up a song, and the others followed,



	The Lower Threstles is our beloved land,

	Our homes, our farms, in this great land,

	The place of happiness, the place of peace,

	The land of our fathers, and their sons,

	

	We will defend it against invaders,

	We will defend it against the bad,

	We will defend it against the creatures from north, 

	We will defend it with every last man.



	The Lower Threstles will be safe

	Its beautiful seasons unsullied,

	The evil will be kept out,

	And our homes will forever be free.



	And then there was a mighty cheer, and the troops started their 
dinners.

	Worth looked through the crowd for Whyse, but he had disappeared.

	After dinner Worth made his way to the town hall.  He found 
Corren and Whyse, as well as the senior commanders, already there.

	"-is foolish!" Maxan proclaimed.  Something was obviously 
bothering him.

	"Can you suggest a better plan, Maxan?" Whyse snapped.  "General 
Fried and I spent all afternoon working it out."  He looked irritated, 
and tired.

	"This is madness," said Maxan.  "Splitting up our forces... 
that's sheer suicide."

	"Suicide would be attempting to fight this battle in a 
conventional way," said Whyse.  "Your troops are outclassed, and 
outnumbered.  This is your only way."

	"How do you know, wizard?  Have you ever fought any wars before?" 
sneered Maxan.

	"Several," said Whyse.  "Most of them before you were even born."

	"Well, I say we concentrate all our forces on the ridge," said 
Maxan.  He was still a soldier, and Whyse, however great he might be, 
was just a wizard.

	"Then they will eventually encircle you, and you will be 
overrun," said Whyse, speaking slowly, as if he were talking to a small 
child.

	"I'm forced to agree with Whyse of the Wind," said General Fried.  
"But I am still uncertain that your plan will work, Whyse."

	"It is my plan or nothing," said Whyse.  "There is no other 
viable alternative."

	"What of your magic?" said Maxan.  "Can that do nothing to turn 
the tide?"

	"Yes, some," said Whyse.  "But I am still only one man, and there 
are limits to what one man can do.  A goblin arrow can pierce me as 
easily as it will you, Maxan, and even I cannot hold off companies of 
goblins alone.  And then there will be Nayorshoran to deal with."

	"I still don't think-"

	"Enough!" said Corren, speaking for the first time.  "We will all 
need a good night's sleep, and we are wasting time.  I am Mayor, and I 
say we go by the plan formulated by Whyse of the Wind and General 
Fried.  Let us now resolve the remaining details, and get to an early 
bed."

	"Colonel Maxan, you will leave at dawn, and take your troops into 
position, as we described," said General Fried.

	Maxan nodded, looking glum.

	"Commander Notham.  Your troops will hold the Maple Ridge."

	"Fine, fine," said Notham.  "How many shall I station there?"

	"All of them."

	"All of them?  Even the ones without weapons?  I had planned to 
have them escort the remainder of the civilians-"

	"Commander Notham, we have better things for your 500 unarmed 
troops to do than to serve as unarmed escorts," said Whyse.  He 
grinned.  "General Fried and I have thought of a very useful task for 
them."

	"Without weapons?  What can they do?  Throw rocks?"

	"Precisely, Commander," said Whyse.

	"And if we're on the ridge, who's going to be in front of us?  
Tel's men?"

	"No.  Tel's men will be in a strategic reserve."

	Tel looked a little crestfallen at that. He had hoped to be in 
the thick of the battle, early on.  He had many scores to settle with 
the goblins, among them the sacking of Willow.  He opened his mouth to 
say as much, but Fried was quicker.

	"Don't worry, Tel, I'm sure you'll have more than enough action 
for your taste before the day ends," General Fried assured him.

	"So what will be between us and the brunt of the attacking 
forces?" said Notham.

	"You will be our first line of defense," said Fried.  "That is 
why it is vital, simply vital, that you hold the ridge."

	"Hold the Maple ridge?  Against 7,000 goblins, and Black Daggers?  
How long do you think I can hold out, given my men's equipment and 
training?" said Notham.  

	"Long enough," said Whyse.

	"Well, at least we will have you there to help us, wizard," said 
Notham.  If they would go down, at least he would go down as well.  
Notham didn't place much stock in wizards, although he had known 
Palmer, who had been a decent sort.  But if this Whyse was as good as 
he was supposed to be, then he should be of enormous help in holding 
the ridge.    

	"No, I will not be there," said Whyse.  

	"What?"

	"I am needed elsewhere.  But I leave you the next best thing, my 
assistant, Worth of New York City."

	Worth of New York City looked surprise.  He had hardly been 
expected to be given a key position of importance in the coming battle.  
But Whyse was putting him smack in the center of the conflict.

	"I will?" said Worth.

	Whyse looked at him.  "Worth, you and Commander Notham's forces 
must hold that ridge.  It's just outside of town, barely a half mile to 
the east.  It's as simple as that."

	"Great," said Worth.  "This is what I get for volunteering."



	Whyse sought Worth out after the meeting.  He spoke to him in the 
privacy of their quarters.  "Worth, I'm counting on you."

	"I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"

	"Hold the goblins.  Use the energy balls, just as I told you.  
Conserve your power.  Only fire at large groups of them, and try to do 
it at low energy levels, just enough to hurt them.  Don't use your 
power until you have to.  Conserve it as much as possible.  And for 
goodness sakes, make sure you don't end up hurting your own troops!"

	"I won't," said Worth.  "Will I see you again?"

	"Me?  Of course," Whyse chuckled, as if Worth had said something 
funny.  "Oh, one more thing.  Leave Nay to me."

	"But-"

	"I want your energy directed at the goblins."

	"What if Nay comes and starts picking our people off?"

	"I don't expect him to be in the first wave.  I think he'll be in 
the rear.  That's why I have to go.  This way I should be able to 
intercept him before he causes too much harm.  But if he get too close 
and you find that you must act,, you can take a shot at him.  But don't 
go after him.  Worth, you're just as important as those 4,300 men on 
the ridge.  I need you to use your power to hold those goblins at bay.  
Oh, and one more thing--lob the energy balls behind the first ranks.  I 
want the goblins to come forward, not to retreat."

	"You want them to advance?"

	"Just to the ridge," said Whyse.  "Do not worry."

	But Worth did worry.  He spent a good deal of the night thinking 
about the situation.  Tomorrow he would go into battle, to save a 
people he hadn't known existed two weeks ago.  But this was his reality 
now; New York City seemed like a distant dream.  Would he ever get 
home, Worth wondered?  On that thought he slowly drifted off to sleep.



	A bugel woke Worth, just after 8 AM.  Worth immediately noticed 
that Whyse was gone.  A man came to Worth's quarters to let him know 
that General Fried wanted to see him.

	"Where?" said Worth.

	"On the ridge," he was told.

	Maple was practically abandoned.  As Worth walked the empty 
streets, it felt like a ghost town. Evidently the villagers had been 
evacuated.  He could see a few militiamen roaming around; evidently a 
few token guards had been left behind, to prevent looting.  

	He started walking to the ridge but he stopped, and asked a 
guardsman for directions, just to make certain he knew the way.  Worth 
was wryly aware that it would be all too easy for him to get lost, and 
miss the battle. 

	The Maple Ridge, or the East Ridge, as some called it, was alive 
with activity.  Thousands of troops poured over the ridge, busy making 
battle preparations.  The ridge itself was a long north-south wedge 
barely a half mile east of Maple.  It was about 200 feet above ground 
at the top, affording a perfect view of the land to the east.  80 years 
ago, it had been sufficient to stop roving bands of goblin raiders.  
Today it would have to hold off an army.

	Worth looked out, seeing a level valley stretching into the 
distance.  He could also see a small village off to the southeast, 
which he intuitively suspected was Willow.  Directly to the north and 
south of the ridge were thick clumps of trees.

	The incline up the ridge was relatively moderate towards the 
bottom.  But as one approached the top it got steeper and steeper, and 
near the top it was almost a climb.  Worth eyed the busy troops.  Some 
were gathering large piles of rocks, which they deposited on the top of 
the ridge.  Others were working on the incline leading up to the ridge, 
digging at a feverish pace.  Still others were getting in some last 
minute training with their swords.  In the distance Worth could see 
horse-mounted scouts in the valley, waiting, watching.

	Worth spotted General Fried, and Worth approached, stifling a 
yawn.

	"Ah, good, Worth.  Good morning," said the General, looking up 
from a progress report.

	"When do you expect the attack to come, General?" said Worth, 
stifling another yawn.

	"Not before lunch, certainly," said Fried.

	Then why had he been summoned so early in the morning, Worth 
wondered.

	"Worth, Whyse has told us that you will assist in our defense.  
Is there any preparations or assistance you need?"

	Worth thought about it.  "Yes.  I need a pillow, a few 
sandwiches, a drink, and a quiet corner until lunchtime."

	Fried grinned.  "I think that can be arranged."

	The Maplemen labored like worker ants, rapidly completing 
whatever it was they were setting up.  Worth, though he was tired, 
actually could not get to sleep; he was too worried about the upcoming 
battle.

	He looked around, but could find no sign of Whyse, or Maxan, or 
any of the regular troops.  He wondered where they were.  Worth saw 
Corren, but he decided not to say anything.  The Mayor looked busy and 
perplexed.  No need to create an added worry for him.

	At noon, Worth was ready.  He had had an early lunch, and he was 
ready.  He had not practiced using his magic; he didn't want to drain 
any of his strength today.  But he stood there, at the top of the 
ridge, peering out, and he was ready.

	So were the troops.  The ones who had been digging stopped work 
and hastily climbed up the ridge.  Some of the men on the top still 
gathered rocks, but for the most part the men stood on the ridge, 
waiting.

	The loudest thing they could hear was the wind.

	One o'clock.  Still silence.

	"Could they have circled around us?" said Corren, conferring with 
General Fried.

	Fried shook his head.  "We would have heard something from the 
scouts."

	But still, the mayor clearly fretted.

	At about 1:30 they didn't hear anything, but they did see 
something.  Several of the scouts returned, galloping quickly on 
horseback.

	"Sir, they come!" one of them breathlessly reported.

	1:45.  They could see a tremendous dust kicked up in the 
distance.

	Bugles were blown, alarms were sounded.  Everyone stopped work on 
the rock piles, and picked up their arms.

	"Everything ready?" said Corren, looking anxiously at the 
approaching hoarde.

	"Ready," said Fried, getting the thumbs up from Notham.  Suddenly 
Commander Tel appeared out of nowhere.  "My men are ready," he said, 
running off.

	The goblins approached.  They looked cruel and wicked, and hungry 
for power.  These were Pican, wild goblins from the east.  They weren't 
the most elite troops, but what they lacked in battle skill they made 
up in savagry.  More importantly they were useful throwaway troops for 
the fell captain, excellent instruments for softening the enemy for the 
main attack.  The goblins jeered at the militiamen, who they spotted on 
the ridge. 

	The troops on the ridge grabbed their weapons, and made ready.  
It finally dawned on many of them that they were about to go in battle.  
Some felt fear, but others were comforted by their numbers; several 
thousand Maplemen could surely hold the ridge.  Still, as they spied 
the charging goblin, even the bravest warrior couldn't help but feel a 
bit of apprehension.  Compared to this, the assault on Willow was a 
skirmish.

	"They're coming straight for us," said Corren.  "Straight up the 
ridge."

	"Just as Whyse predicted," said Fried.  "They think this will be 
an easy victory for them."  He frowned, looking into the distance.  
"But this is only the advance wave.  The scouts think they number about 
2,000.  We must prevent them from getting up the ridge, at least until 
the rest of their forces arrive."

	"Can you handle them?" said Fried anxiously.

	"We can handle them," said Notham, speaking up.  It was his 
troops, the reservists, who were manning the ridge.

	The first of the goblins reached the bottom of the ridge, and the 
battle was joined.

	Two hundred and fifty militiamen, half of Notham's reservists who 
were without weapons, range forward to the edge of the ridgetop and 
each lobbed a rock down on the goblins.

	The goblins screamed as they were pelted with rocks.  As the 
first two hundred and fifty soldiers moved to pick up more rocks, 
another group of two hundred and fifty threw another volley of rocks.  
Only a few goblins fell to the ground, but many screamed out in pain.  
Enraged, the goblins ran up the ridge.

	But many of them didn't even make it near the top.  Large numbers 
of goblins in the lead fell into deep pits, that had been dug and 
camoflagued by the Maplemen.  Most of the goblins were unharmed, but it 
would take them some time to climb their way out.  Meanwhile two more 
vollies of stones were launched, crashing into the goblins.  A few 
goblins had bows and fired off return shots, but did little harm.

	The first wave of the advance goblins charged up the hill.  They 
could see the stone throwers now, only forty feet above and ahead of 
them.  And they were all unarmed.  The goblins had their swords in 
their hands, and they were ready.  They were weakened and hurt, but by 
no means defeated. In just a few seconds they would reach the top, and 
make mincemeat of these defiant stonethrowers.

	Suddenly the stonethrowers stepped back, just out of view of the 
goblins, and other Maplemen rushed forward.  Notham had dispatched 900 
of his own reservists, armed with swords, to rush forward.  He had 
estimated, correctly, that no more than about that number could fit on 
the ridgeface in one continuous line.

	The battle was joined.  The goblins had to fight their way up, 
and they were at a disadvantage.  Many of their numbers were hurt by 
the rock throwers, and some were trapped in the pits.  They were also 
tired from their long run, but were also eager for battle.

	The reservists made up in bravery what they lacked in training, 
and, in the beginning, they held their own.  Only the continual clang 
of steel could be heard on the battle field for the first few moments. 
Then Notham, on the ridgetop, whistled, and the stone throwers launched 
another volley, behind the first ranks of the goblins.

	Whyse had devised the strategy, and it was quite clever.  The 
armed reservists were holding the goblins from twenty to thirty feet 
from the top of the ridge.  Behind him, the stone throwers threw their 
rocks, hitting the middle and back ranks of the goblins, weakening them 
to such an extent that when they did reach the front ranks they were 
considerably enfeebled.

	The reservists were holding their own, slicing into the goblin 
ranks.  But they began to tire quickly, and some of them started to 
fall.  Fried saw this, alarmed, and looked at Worth.

	Worth stood there, staff in hand, his magic ready.  But something 
told him to hold back.  Whyse had told him to save his magic until it 
was needed.  Worth held back the urge to fire off an energy salvo at 
the goblins.  He must wait, he must wait, he kept telling himself.

	Fried, anxiously seeing the battle starting to turn against his 
troops, snapped his finger, and a bugler blowed a horn, one long note.

	The reservists on the mountain started to disengage, slowly 
retreating up the ridgeface.

	The goblins, who had lost many of their troops, were 
nonethelessstill an effective fighting force, and they cheered, chasing 
after the defenders.  The defenders ran back, over the top of the 
ridge.  The rock throwers had parted to the side to give them an avenue 
to escape.

	The first goblin reached the top of the ridge-

	And was pushed back, by the next wave of 900 reservists, freshly 
rested, and battle ready.

	Which was more than could be said for the goblins.  They had 
already lost 400 of their numbers, and more than twice that number had 
been wounded, some seriously.  The new reservists cut down on them, 
forcing them back down the ridge.  Some of them, careless about their 
retreat, fell back into exposed pits that had trapped other goblins.

	Fried looked into the distance.  He could see the next wave of 
goblins approaching.  But they were still some distance away.  He 
snapped his fingers, and the bugler blew two long notes, and then three 
short ones.

	The goblins had stopped their retreat down the ridge, and were 
now at the halfway point, and fighting back.  The rock throwers were 
back, lobbing rocks down on them, but for some reason they stopped, 
after only a few minutes of attacks.  The goblins soon discovered why.

	Another group of 1000 reservists had encircled the goblins from 
behind.  They had come around from the north and south ends of the 
ridge, and the goblin force, now only 1,200 effective fighters, were 
neatly boxed in.

	The goblins started to lose numbers quickly, and they panicked, 
retreating.  They burst out of the ring of militiamen that encircled 
them, and ran back down into the valley.  Some of the militiamen 
started to pursue them, but there was a blow of the horn, and they 
stopped, starting to climb back up to their ridgeside position.

	Worth approached Fried.  "You're letting them go?"

	"Look," said Fried.  In the distance, the next goblin attack wave 
was approaching.  "Perhaps thirty minutes away.  But they're not 
getting a free ride home."  Even as he spoke, riders dashed out of the 
forest, to the south, and quickly caught up with the goblins, 
harrassing them.

	"Tel's men," Fried explained.  "He has over 100 horsemounted men.  
He knows what to do."

	Indeed he did.  Tel and his men chased the goblins, slaying them 
as they ran.  It was only when the first of the new goblins force 
started to close that they retreated, turning around.  But by then only 
about 400 of the original goblin wave had made it back safely, and many 
of those were wounded.  Tel's riders retreated rapidly, racing back to 
the safety of the ridge as the goblins of the new wave also charged 
forward.

	"Not bad," said Fried.  "I think we got about three quarters of 
them.  I notice, Worth, that you did not participate."

	"Whyse instructed me to save my efforts until they were 
essential," said Worth.

	Fried nodded.  "I understand."  He eyed the approaching goblins 
wave.  "Well," he said calmly, "I don't think we have to worry about 
taking several more waves."

	For the next wave was the main goblin attack force.  Fried didn't 
know their numbers, but they amounted to over 5,000 goblins.  With the 
addition of the survivors of the first wave that meant nearly 6,000 of 
them.  And there were several companies of Black Daggers, all mounted, 
to one side.

	"I think we will need your help now," said Fried calmly.

	Notham approached Fried, saluting.

	"Report," said Fried.

	"We lost 140 men, near as we can tell.  Forty more too wounded to 
fight," said Notham.  "The men are a little tired, but morale is high."

	Fried nodded.  He saw that Tel's men had made it safely back to 
the forest bordering the southern tip of the ridge.

	"Are the side guards ready?" said Fried.

	"Yes sir," said Notham.  "I have 400 men on defense at the 
northern forest edge, and another 400 at the south.  I just hope it 
will be enough."

	"The forest is dense," said Fried.  "It shouldn't require huge 
forces to defend it."  But he realized that these were all reservists, 
and that their staying power was unclear.

	The reservists on the ridge prepared for battle.  Troops 
scampered down the ridge, picking up fallen rocks and carrying them to 
the top.  They also picked up goblins swords, and when they made their 
way up to the top for the last time there was not a single reservist 
who did not now have a weapon.  Unfortunately, there hadn't been time 
to cover the pits again.

	The troops were weary.  They had already taken some losses and 
were not looking forward to the next engagement.  Most of them, it must 
be remembered, were not professional soldiers, though even the regular 
milita might have blanched at the task that still faced them.  Only the 
knowledge that they were defending their homes, only a short walk from 
the ridge, kept them on duty.  To their credit, desertions were few and 
far between.  But the new lines of goblins inspired fear in the ranks.  
There were so many of them!  Where were the regulars, when they were 
most sorely needed?

	The goblins quickly approached.  They were all on foot.  The 
Black Daggers, and there must have been three to four hundred of them, 
were all mounted.  Yet they did not charge in advance of their foot 
troops.

	The main goblin force closed on the bottom of the ridge, and they 
stopped.  A few militiamen threw rocks over the ridge, but they fell 
short.  Obviously a new intelligence was guiding the goblins, and it 
had them stop just out of rock range.

	But not out of arrow range.  Several companies of goblins had 
arrows, and they stood calmly on the valley floor, loading their 
weapons.  Immediately the militiamen on the ridge fell back, so not to 
present a direct target.

	But the goblins did not fire directly at any target.  They 
instead fired their arrows into the air, in an indirect arc that went 
over the ridge.  Several hundred arrows suddenly rained down on the 
densely packed defenders, and several dozen troops were pierced.

	Screaming filled the battlement.  They had no way of fighting 
back; few of the Maplemen had bows, and most of those had been with 
Maxan's regular troops.

	Below, the goblins started to load their arrows again.

	Worth sprang into action.  He concentrated his energy, and sprung 
upon the top of the ridge.  It was risky, for he would be in direct bow 
range, but he had to see his target.

	And see his target he did, several hundred bow laiden goblins.  
Worth unleashed a spread of two large energy balls.  He attempted to 
direct them as best he could, but one fell short, landing with a bang 
in the ground.  The second he was more successful with, landing smack 
in the middle of an archer company.  The goblins screamed.

	Worth launched another two energy balls, and this time both of 
these were on target, landing squarely in the ranks of the archers.  
His hits had decimated several platoons and wounded others.  The vast 
majority of the archers were unharmed, but they were panicked, and they 
scattered, screaming.

	But suddenly a few arrows flew towards Worth and he was forced to 
duck for cover.  But he had achieved his objective: the brunt of the 
arrow attack was broken.

	Still,  the goblins weren't finished yet, not by a long shot.  As 
they attempted to reform their archers, they sent their first wave 
charging up the ridge.

	The Maplemen were a little slow to respond, but in seconds the 
ranks of  rock throwers launched a wave at the climbing enemies.

	And the goblins on the ridge stopped, and raised large shields.

	Fried, from a risky position on the ridge, noticed this, and he 
yelled additional orders.  The rock throwers drew back, and the 
swordsmen advanced.

	The militiamen engaged the goblins a good fifty feet from the top 
of the ridge, but it was clear that they were outclassed.  These 
goblins had thicker, heavier swords, and were obviously skilled at 
using them.  Screaming "Nalcar!  Nalcar!" they sliced into the 
militiamen.  The lines of militiamen, shocked, started to break, and 
tear; and Fried called in the second line of 900 defenders, much sooner 
than he had intended to, but so fierce was the attack, that the first 
line was not easily able to disengage.

	Worth jumped out into the open again, and lobbed another two 
energy bolts at the reforming archers.  One was a little off target but 
both scored, forcing them to scatter again.  Worth fired two more 
energy balls, keeping them on the run.  Though some fired off shots 
individually, most of the archers were scattered, and they would never 
again be an effective fighting force in this battle.

	But Worth was starting to get tired.  Panting, he pulled back 
behind the ridge.

	The first and second wave of the militiamen were holding the 
goblins, but at a terrible cost.  Much of the first line of defense had 
been decimated, and the goblins sliced hard into the second line.

	In the background, down at the valley the Black Daggers stood, 
still as stone, all on horseback.

	"I wonder what they're waiting for," Worth muttered.

	Suddenly he noticed part of the goblin attack force breaking off, 
heading north.  The goblins still were fiercely battling on the ridge, 
with several thousands of their best troops, but nearly a thousand of 
them had broken off to the north.

	Meanwhile the second force of Maplemen was slowly being pushed 
back.  Worth jumped out from behind a tree on the ridgetop and aimed 
his staff at a dense bunch of goblins.

	Suddenly, the ground burst into smoke around him.  Worth pulled 
back behind the tree.

	Fried saw that Worth was occupied.  His face grim, he committed 
his third and final line of defense.  The last 1000 swordsmen streamed 
down the ridge.  The front lines were now only twenty feet distance.

	Worth peered from behind the tree.  He saw, at the bottom of the 
ridge, four goblins in robes.  They  seemed to be scanning the area for 
him.

	Summoning his energy, Worth popped up from behind the tree.  He 
sent an energy globe down at the four, but it went off course, 
incincerating a platoon of goblin warriors instead.  The four 
immediately spotted Worth, and sent beams of energy at his position.

	Worth ducked behind his tree, but the tree itself was being holed 
with energy beams.  Worth ran west, a few feet down the safe side of 
the ridge.

	The third line was holding the goblins.  They were taking losses, 
but the goblins were being held.  Then everyone heard a strange sound, 
and the goblins retreated, running back down to the bottom of the 
ridge.

	The defenders were amazed, but they cautiously pulled back, just 
behind the top of the ridge.  They had taken many losses, and Fried was 
shocked when he heard the reports.  Of the 3300 men he had defending 
the ridge, over 1000 had been killed.  Another several hundred were 
wounded.  He had maybe 1800 men left to effectively defend the ridge, 
and they were tired, weary men.

	The goblins stopped at the bottom of the ridge, just out of rock 
throwing range.  A small detatchment of mounted Black Daggers broke off 
from the main force, and trotted to the bottom of the ridge.

	Worth, now hidden behind a bush, peered over the ridge.  Nay was 
at the front of them.  He started his horse up the ridge.  A few 
militiamen looked down at him from the top.

	Nay raised his hand, and bursts of energy hit the ridgetop.  The 
militiamen fled.  Nay calmly urged his horse up the ridge.  Every so 
often he would fire a burst at the ridgetop, to keep it clear of 
opposition.  The large goblin ranks swelled behind him, following him, 
but never getting in front of him.

	On the west side of the ridge the militiamen cringed in terror.
	"The fell captain is upon us!  The fell captain is upon us!"  
They said.  Some fled; others cowered in fear, but of those who stayed, 
none dared go to the ridgetop.  Fried attempted to rally the troops, 
but without much succes.

	Nay urged his horse up the ridge.  In just a few short seconds 
his horse nearly reached the top of it.  The goblin force, to a 
warrior, marched quietly behind him.

	When Nay's horse reached the top, Worth was there, waiting for 
him.



	Worth had decided that if anyone was going to hold the ridge it 
would, by default, have to be him.  Worth knew that Whyse wanted to 
handle Nay himself; but there was no choice; Nay had to be stopped.  
And Worth relished a chance to even the score.

	Nay stared at Worth; Worth matched his gaze.  For a time they 
stood like that, unmoving.  And then Worth sensed a buildup of magic.

	  A split second before Nay could act, Worth launched an energy 
bolt at him. 

	He had summoned all his energy, and launched it in a tight bolt 
at Nay's chest.  Nay cried out; but so narrow was the force, that he 
wasn't even thrown from his horse.

	There was a silence for a moment.

	Nay slowly looked down; there was a sizable hole in his chest.  
Worth could see the goblin attack force through through his armor.

	Nay looked down, amazed, and then at Worth.

	Worth was exhausted, but he managed a grin, and waved goodbye as 
Nay collapsed off the side of his horse.

	At that moment both armies, each on one side of the ridge, saw 
what occurred.  The goblins, stunned, halted for a moment.  But then 
Notham yelled, and the defenders charged to the top of the ridge again, 
and battle was joined.

	The goblins quickly regained their senses and engaged the 
defenders, who they still vastly outnumbered.  But the militiamen 
fought with a rage and a desperation they had not before displayed.  
Notham himself charged into battle, drawing his own sword.

	Worth had fallen to the ground.  He had almost been trampled by 
both sides.  He managed to crawl out of the way.  He was exhausted; he 
felt certain that his magic was gone.   He crawled a few dozen feet 
down the west face of the ridge, and then he collapsed.

	The defenders surged forward, cutting down the ranks of the 
goblins, but then they were pushed back by new, fresh goblins from the 
middle ranks, who had not yet gotten into combat.  The new goblins 
parried with the defenders, and then started to push the Maplemen back.  
There were still over 3000 of them, and the defenders now numbered only 
1500.

	Suddenly a goblin surged forward, and cut down Commander Notham.  
A militiaman immediately stabbed the goblin who did the foul act, but 
he was too late; Notham was dead.

	General Fried sprang forward to take personal command of the 
troops.  That rallied them, but they were still pushed back, pushed 
back, back up the top of the ridge.

	Fried gave a signal, and his hidden troops emerged from the south 
forest.  There were 500 on foot, from the reservists, and Tel's men as 
well: 300 on  foot, and 125 mounted.

	The goblins turned to face this new threat.  But there were so 
many of the invaders that they could easily engage the defenders on all 
fronts simultaneously.

	To make matters worse, suddenly the Black Dagger horsemen jumped 
into the fray.  They engaged Tel's men, rapidly cutting them into 
shreds.  Tel's horsemen were good, but they were hardly a match for the 
Black Daggers, who still inspired fear in their enemies.

	Meanwhile, back on the top of the ridge, Worth heard a shout.  
"Around the sides!"

	The goblin attack force that gone north had overcome the 
defenders there and flanked the ridge.  There were a good 800 of them, 
and they were pouring onto the ridgetop from the north.  The defenders 
on the ridge were forced to pull back, over the top, and down the 
western side.  They were being hacked at viciously now, and quickly 
losing numbers.

	At the bottom of the ridge, Tel's forces and the remaining 
reservists were similarly being decimated by the goblins and the Black 
Daggers.

	Worth, a little groggy, looked up.  The goblins were about to 
overrun his position.  He could barely move.  The militia was falling 
to pieces.  They would not be able to last much longer.  Worth knew the 
end was near.  Well, at least he had fixed Nay's clock.

	And then he heard a bugle.  It was odd, but it was coming from a 
far distance, not General Fried's position.

	Worth couldn't see it, but over the ridge, down in the valley, 
2000 fresh troops streamed westward.  They were Colonel Maxan's 
regulars, and Whyse of the Wind was at the lead.

	Fried realized this immediately.  "Hold them, hold them!" he 
cried, drawing his own sword.

	About 500 of the regulars were mounted, and they engaged the 
Black Daggers first.  All were horsed, and there was a terrible fight 
as they cut into each other.  Each side inflicted heavy losses.

	And then the foot soldiers closed in.  They saw the large, massed 
force of the goblins, most of them packed up along the eastern side of 
the ridge.  And then Whyse gestured for them to stop, and they all fell 
silent.

	Worth staggered to get up, poking his head above an area of the 
ridgetop that the militia still held.

	Twenty large energy balls flew from Whyse's fingertips.  They 
flew in a precise pattern, and they landed, like a barrage, on the 
eastern side of the ridge, where most of the goblins were.

	There were screams, and cries of pain, and it seemed like the 
entire eastern ridgeside exploded.  There was a loud noise, and when 
the smoke cleared, nearly every goblin on that side of the ridge was 
dead.

	Whyse, breathing heavily and looking very tired, waved his hands. 
The regulars streamed forward.  They cheered, racing to link up with 
the reservists.

	There were still goblins to fight; there were some at the bottom 
of the ridge who had survived, though many of those were dazed.  A 
larger threat were the Black Dagger horsemen, who were unharmed.  On 
the top of the ridge there were also nearly a thousand goblins who had 
survived.  Maxan's regulars raced up the ridge, to help the embattled 
defenders on the western side.

	It was still a rough fight.  The goblins didn't give up easily, 
and neither did the Black Daggers.  The regulars, in cooperation with 
the survivors of the reservist defender force, were doing a good job of 
beating down the goblins that were still on the ridge.  But the Black 
Daggers proved more difficult to tame, beating back efforts by Maxan's 
regulars, both on horse and on foot, to defeat them.

	And then Whyse entered the fray.  His power was nearly drained, 
but he summoned the resources to fire two more energy balls, that 
landed squarely into the center of the thickest Black Dagger 
opposition.  That killed many of them and demoralized the rest:  and 
though many of the Black Daggers fought on, it was not with the 
eagerness and enthusiasm they once had.

	Worth struggled to get up.  He was weary, but felt he could walk. 
Fighting went on all around him.  Suddenly in the chaos a goblin bumped 
into him.  But this goblin bore no weapon; only a staff.  And one of 
his hands was bandaged.

	"You!" seethed the goblin.  Worth immediately recognized him; 
this was the magic user whose hand he had scorched on the Battle Plain.

	"Long time no see," said Worth.  He instinctively summoned his 
magic, even though he knew that there would be none left.

	But there was, a little.  Worth was about to direct it, but the 
goblin was quicker, sending a stabbing beam into Worth's side.  Worth 
fell to the ground.  He lost awareness for a moment.  When he regained 
consciousness again, he felt himself being dragged.  Behind a bush.  
The battle still raged around them.

	Then Worth heard a voice say, "Here is the one."  And a familiar 
face entered Worth's vision.

	The goblin chief, the one he had kidnapped to escape from the 
goblin camp.  The one who had put Worth through those deadly trials.

	"So, the tables are turned," seethed the chief.  "But you will 
not see the end," said the chief.  He slapped Worth in the face, hard.  
Worth cried out, but he still lay on the ground.  For some reason his 
body was not responding.

	The chief hit him again, and again.  Worth tried to summon his 
magic, but the hits kept distracting him.  The chief kept pounding him, 
in the head, in the body.  In the background the goblin magic user 
laughed.  The goblin chief paused for a moment, laughing also.  "How 
does it feel now, to feel the wrath of Nalcar?"

	That was his mistake.  Worth used the pause to summon his magic.  
It was weak, not enough to attack, but the flow through his body gave 
him energy again, energy to move.  He shook off the goblin paralysis 
and leapt up.

	The goblin chief looked surprised, but not alarmed.  "Wizard 
doesn't have his staff."

	Worth drew his sword.  The goblin chief did the same.

	They parried, and stabbed, back and forth. It quickly became 
apparent that the goblin chief was a better swordsman, and he cut at 
Worth, nicking him in several places. 

	Worth cried out, stabbing at the goblin leader, but the chief 
dodged, and brought the side of his sword, hard, down on Worth's side.  
Worth, crying out, dropped the sword, collapsing to the ground.

	The goblin leader raised his sword.  Laughing.  Worth's vision 
was blurred, but he knew what was about to happen.  He tried to summon 
his magic, but he was too exhausted.

	And then something unexpected happened.  Worth blinked, almost 
missing it.  A hard piece of wood hit the leader on the side of the 
head.  He fell to the ground.

	The goblin magic user attempted to channel his magic, but 
suddenly he was grasping for his throat.  He was choking, but no one 
was touching him.  How could this be?

	Whyse of the Wind came into Worth's vision.  His face looked 
grave. "Worth!  What did I say to you about conserving your energy?"  
He gave Worth a hand, starting to pull him up.

	The goblin magic user continued to choke.

	"And you lectured me about cruelty," Worth muttered, pointing to 
the goblin magic user.

	"Quite right," said Whyse, drawing his own sword.  He stared, 
face to face, at the gasping goblin for a moment, and then said, "You 
simply don't do those sorts of things to my assistant."  And then Whyse 
ran him through.  "I'm almost out of magic," he explained, matter of 
factly.

	"Oh," said Worth, almost tripping over the body of the goblin 
chief.  The goblin chief was moaning, grabbing his sore head.

	Worth felt weak, but strong enough to act.  He picked up his 
sword, and held it down to the chief's throat.

	"I just want to thank you for all your hospitality," said Worth.  
He slammed the hilt against the leader's face.

	"The trials weren't very nice," said Worth, slamming the hilt 
again, only this time in the chief's belly.  The chief made a loud 
ooofing sound.

	"Worth," said Whyse warningly.

	"But maybe I shouldn't stab you," said Worth, kneeing the chief 
in the groin.  The chief screamed. 

	"Yes," said Worth, sheathing his sword.  "A sword is too good for 
you."  And then he summoned the remnants of his magic, and found the 
strength to stab a ray through the chief.  The chief screamed again, 
and then collapsed.

	"Feeling better?" said Whyse.

	"Yes," said Worth.  But he winced when he said it.  His ribs felt 
very sore.

	The battle was won.  All the goblins had been killed, as had most 
of the Black Daggers.  A few of them had managed to escape, riding 
rapidly into the East, but their numbers were too small to be of much 
concern.  The Maplemen were conducting a mopping up operation.

	"You did it, you did it!" said Corren, vigorously pumping Whyse's 
hand as the troops cheered in the background.

	"Congratulations, your plan worked!" said General Fried.

	Worth was barely coherent, and it wasn't until later that he 
understood the full implication of what Whyse had done.

	Whyse and General Fried had plotted to lure all the goblins close 
to the ridge.  If they were all in a closed space, Whyse could decimate 
hundreds of them with his energy balls.  But in order to do that they 
had to be encircled.  So he had taken Maxan's force and gone around the 
goblins.  The encirclement movement, though late in execution, had 
otherwise been conducted perfectly.  The goblins had been packed into a 
small area, and had been decimated by Whyse's energy ball attacks.

	Worth was very hurt, but not critically; he felt he had a few 
broken ribs, and bruises in several places.  The next day, when he felt 
stronger, Whyse tended to his wounds, and healed him.  Nevertheless it 
was another day before Worth felt well enough to get up and walk.  But 
when he did Whyse had a big surprise for him.

	There was a parade, largely in their honor.  Worth and Whyse 
marched up front, with Mayor Corren and General Fried, and Colonel 
Maxan and Commander Tel, and they were followed by their troops, those 
of which had survived.  The people of Maple cheered them from the 
sidelines.

	And there was a great victory feast in their honor that night.  
Tables of food were set up outside, and great torches lit the night 
sky.  There was much laughter and merriment; for though people grieved 
for the many that had fallen in the defense of Maple, the populace wa