The man who walked in was...unprepossessing. Unimpressive. I might even have called him forgettable. Nothing about him said “unbeatable amazing death-dealing warrior.” I’m a little over average height, but he was almost a head shorter than me. One might have thought he’d have huge, bulging muscles, but that wasn’t the case either. He was wiry--not fat or thin but not at all what I expected. If I hadn’t known better, I might have taken him for a scribe or perhaps a messenger.

He met my eyes, and it was as if an earthquake hit me.

His bright blond hair seemed to glow as he stepped into the light, and fierce unyielding blue eyes drilled into my own. I suddenly felt as if there was a heaviness in the air, and I could see the others in my party stiffen as the power of his presence overwhelmed them. From the corner of my eyes, I saw the sorcerous counselor suck in his breath, and the royal guards trembled as if resisting the urge to flee. The last time I had felt like this was when I had faced the dragon, and even as my body quivered in fear, a little voice in the back of my head marveled at the impact this small man made simply by walking into the room.

Abruptly, as if a candle had been blown out, that potent aura of implacable force was gone, and an unremarkable fellow in plain blue tunic and pants was standing before Rafe, eyes wide in wonder. A strange, wistful look crossed Rafe’s face as he looked uncertainly down at the man he claimed as a friend.

“Rafe,” breathed Michael. “God, how long has it been?”

Rafe shrugged, seeming nonchalant. “Eh. A little while, I guess. I lose track of the time.”

Michael grabbed him and hugged him close.

“Too long, you stubborn fool. Too long.”

A look of relief on his face, Rafe smiled and hugged him back.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel.”

Michael released him and stepped back with a grin on his face.

“That’s why I called you a fool. All the time that we’ve been friends--and you thought I wouldn’t welcome you?”

With a scrunch to his nose, Rafe answered, “Well, you’ve been known to hold a grudge. I wasn’t sure how long it would take you to forgive me.”

“Maybe age has taken away my edge because all I can think of is how glad I am to see you again.”

“Taken away your edge?” Rafe smirked with a raised brow. “Nothing takes away your edge, Michael. It’s always sharp and always ready.”

He paused.

“Always faithful.”

The conversation stilled, and something ineffable seemed to pass between the two men. I didn’t know how old they were, but I knew they had known each other for a very very long time. Decades...centuries... How long had they been friends? What happens to a friendship after so many years? What happens to a person?

Michael said quietly, “I take it you never found Yuri.”

Rafe shook his head once in a jerky motion.

Michael sighed.

“Well, maybe he doesn’t want to be found. I know he was hiding something in the end. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him so hard on it. We exchanged some harsh words before he disappeared.”

Human. ???

That’s pretty much what I expected.

Someone cleared his throat. We all turned to the king.

“Michael, do you vouch for this man? Is he…?”

The king’s voice trailed off.

The left side of Michael’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile.

“Yes, he’s like a brother to me. We can trust anything he says.”

The king nodded to the room, looking into several men’s eyes, and a tension drained away as the royal guards put up their weapons and the counselors drifted back to their seats at the table.

“You may all be dismissed. Not you, Sir Reginald. I would have your thoughts on what we are about to discuss.”

The old seneschal bowed his head in acknowledgement and made his way to the table, seating himself at an empty chair. He gave me a sharp glance and glared at my hand.

Veritas!

I hastily sheathed her.

“Do you know any of these people? Michael? The king? The sourpuss who keeps giving me dirty looks?”

I’m sorry, Paol. It’s been a long time since I was in Paravel. I saw the king of Paravel once a few hundred years ago, and the man before you does resemble him a little. As for Michael--it’s hard to say. When he first walked in, I felt an unwavering sense of recognition, but then it shut off as if someone flipped a switch. Now he just looks like any other man to me.

“'Flipped a switch?'”

Oh, uh, it’s just a manner of speaking. I just meant that things changed very quickly.

Michael said, “King Ladislas, why did you call me here? I was made to understand that my presence was required urgently, so I assume it wasn’t just to reunite me with an old comrade.”

King Ladislas seated himself and gestured to Barnabas and the rest of Duke Benedict’s men who were still kneeling.

“Rise, rise,” he ordered brusquely. “But move aside--not you, Barnabas, or you--”

He pointed to me.

“Paol,” I said. “My name is Paol.”

“Paol. Very well. These men have been sent here by Duke Benedict of Creshey,” he informed Michael. “The duke fought off an orc raid on his eastern border. He thinks it may be a precursor to a larger invasion.”

Michael asked, “Why does he think that? Orc raids aren’t common, but they happen. The border has been fairly stable the last couple hundred years.”

King Ladislas looked at me.

I cleared my throat nervously.

“I’m a traveller from the east...uh...and south...and I was captured by the orcs and imprisoned in Spiral Castle.”

Michael frowned. “Spiral Castle? Do you mean to say that it’s no longer abandoned?”

I nodded.

“The castle wasn’t full, but a large number of orcs had settled in and looked like they were preparing it.”

His eyes sharp, Michael demanded, “Preparing it? For more of them?”

I nodded again.

Lord Sorcerer inquired, “If you were captured, how were you able to escape? The dungeons of Spiral Castle are infamous.”

“Oh, uh,” I stammered. “I had help. A man rescued me.”

Lord Swordcane asked, “A man? Who was this man?”

“I don’t know.”

Lord Two Knives stated skeptically, “A man you don’t even know risked his life to break into an ancient, dangerous prison to free you?”

I switched back and forth between the disbelieving expression on Lord Two Knives’s face and Lord Swordcane’s more friendly questioning look. Glancing at Lord Sorcerer, I realized that I really needed to learn these men’s names.

“I don’t know why he came to find me or why he risked his life for me. I just know that he helped me escape, and I’ll be forever grateful to him. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for him.”

The counselor who had shouted for the guards earlier looked me up and down insultingly, clearly unimpressed by my unkempt look and travel-stained clothing.

“Hmmm...and in exchange for this warning you would like...a reward perhaps? Or did you travel all the way here from halfway across the kingdom out of the goodness of your heart?”

I noticed that this counselor was on the large side. Actually, he was quite obese. No wonder he didn’t jump to protect the king. Or maybe he had tried to and been unable to get his lard-filled body out of his chair.

My lip curled.

“I’m telling you the truth. I have no reason to lie. And no, I don’t want a reward.”

Lord Fatty sniffed at me.

King Ladislas spoke slowly. “If Spiral Castle has truly been reclaimed, that bodes ill. That keep has often been used as a staging point for invasion.”

Michael nodded. “Yes, it was a key fortress during the last war. Still, the orcs might simply be taking it for temporary use. Those creatures are so violent and tribal that they’re as likely to fight each other as they are to attack humans. Perhaps an orc chieftain thinks to establish a greater zone of influence by taking the castle.”

I shook my head.

“No, a man was in charge, and he clearly had authority over all the orcs in the keep.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “A man?”

“Yes, my savior seemed to know him. He called him Julius.”

Michael froze.

“Julius? You’re sure of that name?”

“Yes.”

Who was this Julius?

King Ladislav asked, “Who is this Julius? You seem to recognize the name, though it rolls uncommonly off my tongue.”

Michael stared hard into my eyes as if trying to reach into my brain and read what was in my mind. He glanced over at Rafe.

“Yea, that’s what he told me. Julius...and Cyril.”

He said the last name in a whisper, and I didn’t think anyone else heard him.

Michael’s teeth clenched.

“My lord,” the king began. “Who is this man?”

Michael hesitated and then answered reluctantly.

“Rafe and I know him as Julius, but you know him by a different name. To you and your people, he is Asmodai.”

Gasps exploded around the room. Faces blanched and hands twisted. Lord Sorcerer looked stunned while Lord Swordcane’s face twisted into something between a frown and a scowl. Sir Reginald had unconsciously put his hand on the hilt of his sword, and Lord Fatty was shaking.

The king’s hard voice cut through the alarmed whispers and palpable shock.

“Do you mean to tell me that the orc tribes are being led by a god?”