Erik stood peering through the slightly open door, listening intently to his father and others as they discussed the Konn Deta.

“The cape fell before the boy even grabbed his sword. I tell you, it’s a bad omen!” Demetrius shouted.

“Sometimes things just fall, Demetrius,” Lord Lokton replied. “It doesn’t always have to be a sign or an omen.”

“Still, it is unusual that the brooch snapped in two,” Mr. Stilwell added. “Things like that do not just happen.”

“Especially not during Konn Deta ceremonies,” Demetrius agreed.

“If this is an omen, Lord Lokton, you know it can only mean one thing,” Master Orres said.

“House Lokton makes its own destiny,” Lord Lokton replied. “I will not tuck my tail because a piece of cloth fell.” Lord Lokton waved everyone away.

Erik backed away from the door just as Demetrius shoved it open. The large, muscular blacksmith looked down at Erik contemptuously. Erik locked stares with him, unsure what to say or do. Then Mr. Stilwell came up from behind and pushed Demetrius onward.

“Come on, we have duties to tend to,” Mr. Stilwell said.

Demetrius pushed Erik aside with a sweep of his massive arm and then walked by. Mr. Stilwell raised a curious eyebrow at Erik for a moment, and then he followed after Demetrius. Next, Master Orres exited the room and walked past Erik without so much as a glance in his direction. He was followed by Sir Duvall, another one of the knights in Lord Lokton’s service. Finally, Lord Lokton came out. He smiled at Erik, but Erik could see the concern in his adopted father’s eyes.

“I didn’t mean for the cloak to fall,” Erik said.

“Never mind about that,” Lord Lokton replied. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“The bad omen that Demetrius spoke of, it’s me isn’t it?”

Lord Lokton rustled Erik’s hair and then grabbed the boy’s shoulder. “Demetrius takes things too seriously. Don’t you pay any mind to his talk of omens.” Lord Lokton turned Erik around and gently pushed him as he began to walk down the hall. “Besides, we have bigger fish to fry today. There will be a hunt, and you do not yet have a horse to ride.”

“I do have a horse,” Erik replied without thinking. “You gave me the paint named Sky, remember?”

Lord Lokton chuckled softly. “Yes, you do own the paint horse, but now you are a man. You should have a man’s horse. Lord Cedreau has the finest stock of warhorses in the kingdom. House Cedreau has worked for generations to perfect their breeding program. They use only the best bloodlines to produce warhorses without equal. The horses are strong and without fear. They are also so loyal to their master that if the master is unhorsed in battle, the horse will fight and protect its fallen master.”

“Wow, I don’t think Sky would do that for me,” Erik said.

“No,” Lord Lokton agreed, “but Sky was bred for other purposes.”

“How will I know which horse to choose?” Erik asked.

“That is something you will have to feel inside you,” Lord Lokton replied. “Come, we should be on our way.”

*****

“House Cedreau wishes to welcome House Lokton, and other distinguished guests,” Lord Cedreau greeted as he exited the manor.

“Lord Cedreau, we thank you for your hospitality,” Lord Lokton replied.

Erik noted that both men seemed to be merely going through the motions. There was no sincerity in either’s words.

“I have gathered the horses for Erik to choose from,” Lord Cedreau announced. “Please, follow me to the west corral.”

“I trust you gathered all of the horses,” the magistrate said.

“Of course.” Lord Cedreau bristled. “Save only the horses that already have riders. As you know, our horses are loyal to one master for their entire lives.”

“That is well,” Lord Lokton said knowingly. “We expected only those horses without masters.”

Lord Cedreau nodded shrewdly and led them all to the west corral. Erik was astonished at the size of it. At first he saw only a small, fenced in area around a large barn, but as they walked closer Erik realized that the fence extended down a gently sloping hill for several acres beyond the barn. Inside the fence were hundreds of strong, majestic horses.

“We sell our horses to knights throughout the kingdom,” Lord Cedreau stated. “I am certain that Erik will find one that is suitable for him.”

“How do I know if a horse already has a rider?” Erik asked. Lord Cedreau sneered at him and Erik felt stupid for asking.

“Horses with masters have a set of colored beads woven into their mane, just behind the left ear,” Lord Cedreau replied. “But don’t concern yourself with that. All of the horses in the west corral are available. All of the horses that already have masters are in the small corral over there.” Lord Cedreau pointed to another corral on the north side of the manor. It was only a fraction of the size of the west corral and Erik noted that there were only thirty or forty horses there. “Please, don’t be shy. Go and select a horse,” Lord Cedreau said.

“Your spirits seemed to have lifted, Lord Cedreau,” the magistrate commented as Erik slipped through the corral fence and slowly walked among the horses.

“Yes, well, let’s just say that I’ve had some time to cool down a bit,” Lord Cedreau replied.

Erik could hear them talking, but he chose to tune them out. He had seen enough of Lord Cedreau’s behavior to know that his current gestures were anything but genuine. No doubt he had some plan already in motion to pay back House Lokton for the slight he received at the Konn Deta. Erik was just thankful that Lord Cedreau had not seen what happened with the cloak.

A large, chestnut colored horse snorted and hoofed the ground. The horse’s behavior was enough to bring Erik’s mind back to the task at hand. He checked the chestnut horse first. He admired the coloring of the large beast. The head was light chestnut with a diamond shaped area of white between the eyes. The rest of the massive body was darker brown, save for the white feathering on the back of the legs.

“That’s a fine horse,” Lord Cedreau called out.

Erik nodded and kept walking through the herd. He studied each horse as he walked. He noted not only each horses color, but also its size, conformation, and how it reacted to him. Some of the horses shied away, others watched him and stood still like four-legged sentinels, but most seemed indifferent to him. He walked among the animals for close to an hour before returning to his father.

“Did you find one you like?” Lord Lokton asked.

Erik noticed that his father and the magistrate were standing much farther from Lord Cedreau than when he left them.

“I can’t decide,” Erik replied with a shrug.

“Are you saying that my horses aren’t good enough for you, boy?” Lord Cedreau quipped. A pair of stable hands snickered.

Erik didn’t miss a beat. “On the contrary, Lord Cedreau,” he replied. “It is more that they are all of such quality that it is hard to decide between them.” Erik watched how his words disarmed Lord Cedreau’s anger and replaced it with a hint of pride.

“Well then, just pick any of them, boy, they are all fine animals,” Lord Cedreau said.

Lord Lokton bristled and turned to address Lord Cedreau, but Erik beat him to it.

“Lord Cedreau, with respect, it is customary to call me Master Lokton, as I have passed through my Konn Deta. The ring on my finger should remind all who see it of that fact.”

“Well said,” the magistrate whispered to no one in particular.

Lord Cedreau glowered at Erik, but the young man stood tall and returned the glare with unflinching confidence. “My apologies, Master Lokton, it must have slipped my mind.” The words were dripping with venom, but Erik did not balk. He turned back to Lord Lokton, who was beaming ear to ear with a proud grin.

“You do need to choose a horse, Master Lokton,” the magistrate insisted.

Erik nodded and looked back at the horses in the corral. His eyes fell back upon the chestnut stallion with the diamond on its forehead. He was about to choose it, but was stopped by a commotion in the other corral.

All of the horses were snorting and baying. One horse in particular was making a lot of noise. Erik quickly followed Lord Cedreau and the stable hands as they ran over to the other corral. As they got closer he saw a great, solid black stallion rearing back on its hind legs and pawing the air with its front hooves.

“What spooked it?” Lord Cedreau asked.

“I’m not sure,” one of the stable hands replied.

Erik watched the two stable hands try to calm the horse, but their presence only seemed to further agitate it.

Erik climbed up on the fence to get a better look. Lord Lokton put his hand on Erik’s shoulder, but Erik shrugged it off and hopped into the corral. He cautiously approached the horse, ignoring everyone’s shouted warnings. Erik walked closer, not even flinching as the giant horse kicked one of the stable hands and sent him flying through the air.

“Easy boy,” Erik coaxed. The horse reared again and came down hard on its front legs. Dust erupted around Erik, but he paid no mind. Something inside told him that he was safe. There was a connection between him and the horse. Erik looked the horse in the eye for a moment and then, unafraid, reached out with his hand. The horse snorted and then dropped its head to Erik’s hand. Erik petted the horse behind the ear and then realized that there were no beads.

“I want this horse,” Erik said to the magistrate.

“That horse is spoken for,” Lord Cedreau barked.

“There are no beads in his mane,” Erik replied.

“Who is the horse’s master?” the magistrate asked.

“He belongs to my son,” Lord Cedreau boomed.

“Has this horse been ridden by your son?” the magistrate asked.

Lord Cedreau jabbed the air hard with his finger, pointing at the horse as he fumed. “This horse was bred and trained specifically for Timon,” Lord Cedreau growled. “He is spoken for. Master Erik can choose from the other horses, but not this one.”

“Answer my question,” the magistrate demanded. “Has this horse been ridden?”

Veins throbbed in Lord Cedreau’s forehead. Erik swore that the man was going to explode on the spot. “No,” Lord Cedreau growled at last. “He has not yet been ridden.”

“Then Master Erik has the right to choose this horse,” the magistrate declared.

“Lord Lokton, tell your son to choose another horse,” Lord Cedreau insisted.

Lord Lokton shook his head. “The deal was that my son could choose any horse that did not yet have a master. As this horse does not have one yet, although he may be intended for your son, Master Erik has the right to choose him. Speak with him if you wish to make a new arrangement.”

Lord Cedreau clenched his jaw tight. Erik could tell that Lord Cedreau wanted to say something else to his adopted father. Something very unkind by the looks of it, but Lord Cedreau didn’t say anything more. He stared at Lord Lokton for a long while, throwing daggers with his cold eyes, before finally turning to him. Lord Cedreau grabbed the top rail of the fence, exhaled heavily and took a new breath before speaking to him. “Perhaps I could persuade you to choose a different horse? I could even throw in something else to sweeten the deal, what do you say?”

Erik thought for a moment. He didn’t want to cause more bad blood between his adopted father and Lord Cedreau, but he also felt that this horse was choosing him as much as he was choosing it. He turned back to the horse and looked into the deep, brown eyes. The horse gently nudged Erik with its massive head. “I choose this horse.”

“I will not forget this, Lord Lokton,” Lord Cedreau growled. “As soon as the horse is ready, I want all of you off my land, and don’t you ever come back.” There was harshness to his words that Erik had not detected before. Erik looked to his adopted father, wondering what his response would be.

Lord Lokton smiled slyly. “So, am I to understand that you will not be joining the hunt today?”

Lord Cedreau spat on the ground and stormed off.

“Get your horse son,” Lord Lokton said, turning to him. “It’s time to go home.”

Erik moved his saddle from the paint horse to his new horse. He had to loosen the strap all the way to the last notch to reach around the horse’s massive body, and even then the saddle didn’t quite fit right.

“We’ll need a new saddle,” Erik said.

“We have one in the stable at home that should fit,” Lord Lokton replied. “What’re you going to call him?”

Erik jumped into the saddle and grabbed the reins. “Goliath.” Erik gently tapped his heels into the horse’s side and Goliath trotted obediently around the corral.

“Seems to be obedient now,” the magistrate commented as he watched Erik ride the horse.

“Apparently it just needed the right master,” Lord Lokton agreed with a nod.

After a few minutes Lord Lokton opened the corral door and Erik rode out. Erik pulled on the reins and stopped Goliath while he waited for his adopted father and the magistrate to mount their own horses.

“I’ll pull Sky along with me,” Lord Lokton said. He held a guide rope in his left hand and led the paint horse down the road. “You can go ahead if you like, son.”

“Do you think the saddle will hold if I let him run?” Erik asked.

Lord Lokton came up beside and yanked on the saddle a few times. “We’ll put the bigger saddle on for the hunt, but this should hold if you want to let loose a little. Just keep an eye on it, and don’t go too fast.”

Erik smiled wide. “See you at home then?”

Lord Lokton nodded with a sigh of resignation. Erik dug his heels in and gave a shout. Goliath tore off down the road. Clumps of dirt flew out as the mammoth horse galloped and quickly disappeared from view as the road turned into the forest.

“I dare say that there is more of you in your adopted son, than one would ever guess,” the magistrate said.

“Sometimes I wonder if he is too much like me,” Lord Lokton replied. The magistrate chuckled heartily and offered an understanding nod.

*****

“I am surprised you didn’t stay for the boar hunt,” Master Orres said. “I am sure Erik missed you.” The massive man gracefully dismounted from his horse and joined Master Lepkin on the front porch of a small wooden cabin surrounded by the dense forest.

“The boy is my apprentice, but that doesn’t mean he should become overly dependent on me for support,” Master Lepkin replied.

“Still, it is common to attend an apprentice’s first hunt after the Konn Deta.” Master Orres sat on a wooden bench and leaned back against the exterior of the cabin. “I always marvel at the fact that you live here Lepkin. A small cabin in the woods, it doesn’t seem good enough for a knight of your rank.”

“I like the quiet,” Master Lepkin said evenly.

“A manor can also be quiet,” Master Orres pointed out.

“A manor is meant for a family. I have no children of my own, nor do I have a wife.” The edge to Master Lepkin’s tone was not lost on Orres.

Master Orres sighed and folded his arms. “You could have dueled for the right to her hand,” he gruffed.

“Have you come to open old wounds, or is there another purpose for your visit?” Master Lepkin quipped.

Master Orres shook his head and looked away from Lepkin. “I came to discuss the boy.”

“What about him?” Master Lepkin asked.

“Given the recent developments I think it would be wise to keep Erik out of Kuldiga Academy for a while.”

“You want to expel him?” Lepkin asked. His brow arched sternly and he stood up from his chair.

“No, he doesn’t deserve that,” Master Orres replied, still not meeting Lepkin’s gaze. “But with tensions rising between House Lokton and House Cedreau, I think it could be bad for Erik if he stayed in Kuldiga Academy. There are a lot of apprentices who were thoroughly embarrassed by Friday’s tournament. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were planning something to get back at Erik.”

“Are you truly worried about Erik? Or is it the risk of losing House Cedreau’s financial support of Kuldiga Academy that steals your sleep at night?”

“Master Lepkin, you know me better than that,” Orres snarled. Finally he turned his eyes up to meet Lepkin’s. They were stern and fierce, but Lepkin sensed that he was hiding something as well. “You also know the houses of the great lords. You know their ways, their customs, and the reach of their power. I am not suggesting a permanent withdrawal; I am only proposing a short term solution.”

“How long?” Lepkin asked.

“Until the end of Erik’s first year.”

“What! You can’t be serious.” Lepkin turned on his heels and slammed his fists into his hips.

“Lepkin, hear me out. A week or two won’t be long enough for anyone to forget what happened on Friday. And think about the Konn Deta. You know as well as I that Lord Cedreau will not be willing to let that go easily, nor the horse that Erik has chosen. Erik’s first year will be over in six months. Take him into the field with you and train him out there. It will be better this way. Besides, field studies are common for Apprentices who have gone through the Konn Deta.”

“Erik is no common apprentice, you know this. We don’t have six months to spare.”

“Then train him, and do it well, Master Lepkin. I also know what is coming, but before I can deal with that, I must be able to see to other matters. You know I can not do that if Kuldiga Academy is thrown into chaos. It was your own stunt that got us into this mess, and it is you who will fix it. Erik finishes the year in the field. That is final.”

“As Headmaster of Kuldiga Academy, you have the authority to run the school as you wish.” Lepkin turned around and stepped close to Orres. “But be warned, there is more trouble coming than a few wayward kings or knightly orders. The Shadowfiends are growing in numbers and strength. They are planning something. If we make even the smallest mistake, we will not live long enough to protect the realm.”

Master Orres stood silently. He nodded grimly and pushed around Lepkin to walk off the porch. “Can I count on you to stay away from Kuldiga Academy?”

“I will be in on Monday morning to pick up a few things, and then I will do as you have requested,” Lepkin replied.

“Thank you, Master Lepkin,” Orres said. “I’m glad I can count on you.” Master Orres smiled and stuck his foot in the stirrup of his saddle. He pulled himself up and waved goodbye. “Be safe, my old friend, and may the Gods help you train that boy of yours.” Orres turned and set his horse off through the woods at a quick trot.

Master Lepkin stood there watching the trail long after Master Orres had vanished into the trees. The words “be safe” kept echoing in his head. Something about Master Orres’ tone gave him cause to wonder whether it was a threat.

*****

Erik looked around with smiling eyes. All of House Lokton and many guests were seated around the hall to share in the feast. He sat at the main table, on his father’s right while Raisa, his adopted mother sat on Lord Lokton’s left. The magistrate also sat at the table, along with Mr. Stilwell, and Sir Duvall. Two more tables joined each side of the main table, running down the sides of the great dining hall. Lord Lokton had spared no effort for this feast. The fanciest table runners made of green silk with gold trimming ran along each table. Atop the runners were set two ornate, silver candelabras that bathed the room in warm light. The boar was being served among trays full of fruits, meats, and sweet breads. The aroma of the feast filled the great dining hall of the manor. A juggler performed in the center of the room while the guests talked among themselves.

It seemed that all had forgotten what had happened at the Konn Deta as they feasted. Loud laughter bubbled up occasionally in different areas of the hall. Erik could tell that it was the jovial laughing brought on by good food and good times. Everything seemed to be in perfect order. That was when a puff of smoke appeared in the center of the hall.

The juggler scurried back from the smoke like a frightened chicken, squawking awkwardly as he grabbed for his juggling clubs. The smoke swirled out with black tendrils waving smoothly as light emerged from the center. Streams of green, yellow, and white poured out until finally a man stepped through the smoke. With a wave of his hand the smoke vanished. All conversations ceased, replaced by gasps and growls. Some of the men, Mr. Stilwell and Sir Duvall among them, drew their swords and rose to their feet in defense of their master.

The stranger smiled again and snapped his fingers. All of the torches, candles, and oil lamps went dark. Not even the light of the moon could pierce the fathomless darkness that held the room. Erik held his hand in front of his face, but he could not see it. Then he felt a shiver. The heat was gone with the light. It was deathly cold in the hall. If anyone screamed or moved, Erik couldn’t hear any sound over his beating heart.

“Tukai,” someone said after a moment. Erik could only faintly hear the words, as though the spell of darkness muffled their sound. “That is enough,” the voice continued.

“Oh, but I was just beginning to have fun,” someone else replied. The darkness vanished and was replaced by light as bright as the noon-day sun. Erik looked around, but none of the torches, candelabras, or lamps burned. There was only the man in the center of the hall.

“Put away your swords, men,” Lord Lokton instructed. It was then that Erik realized that his father had been the one who spoke first in the darkness.

“But, milord, he’s broken the law and come straight into your house without invitation. Surely no good can come from this,” Sir Duvall countered.

“While I appreciate your sentiments, Sir Duvall, our swords will be of no avail if he does decide to do evil to us,” Lord Lokton replied. “Put your weapon down.”

Erik felt fear grip his stomach and twist it into knots as he studied the intruder. The man wore black robes with shiny, purple trim on the sleeves. A long hood hung loosely over the stranger’s face, covering his features. Strands of silver hair poked out from the hood like old snakes. The man wore a medallion around his neck. The gleaming triangle of gold enclosed the image of an open eye. A staff of wood appeared in the man’s left hand and he took three steps toward Lord Lokton.

“That is far enough, Tukai,” Lord Lokton announced. “What have you come for?”

“I was disappointed when I heard that House Lokton had not invited me to witness the Konn Deta of its newest son. Tukai turned to face Erik. Erik couldn’t see the man’s face, but he was certain that Tukai was staring right into his eyes.

“House Lokton does not hold company with warlocks,” Lord Lokton replied.

“Ah, yes,” Tukai hissed with a finger poking the air. “I am an evil man, I forgot.” Tukai removed his hood and Erik saw his face. The orbs of Tukai’s eyes were pure white, without any color at all. His long, hooked nose came to a pointy end above a curled set of thin lips. “House Lokton may not wish to deal with warlocks, but I know of the ill omen that shrouded the boy’s ceremony today.”

“Was it your doing, old snake?” Lokton quipped.

“Come come, why would I care to do something like that?” Tukai replied wickedly. Without warning he floated into the air and glided over to stand at the main table, just opposite Erik.

Sir Duvall lunged forward with his sword and pierced the warlock through the chest. Tukai reeled back, grabbing the blade with his hands and crying out in agony. Tukai stumbled a few steps to Erik’s right and then, tired of the charade, started to laugh.

“I have not had someone try to do that to me for a long time,” Tukai hissed. “It tickles something fierce.” Erik couldn’t believe his eyes. Tukai pulled the sword from his chest and tossed it onto the table in front of Sir Duvall. There was no hole in his body, or even in his robes. Tukai was untouched by the blade despite the fact that it had coursed straight through him.

Sir Duvall took his sword back and reluctantly sheathed it.

“I have come with a warning for you, because the omen concerns not only House Lokton, but the whole of the kingdom.” Tukai turned back to Erik and shoved his open palm up close to Erik’s face. It stopped just a half inch away from his nose. Tukai closed his eyes and let his head fall back. Erik didn’t dare move, nor did anyone else. Tukai started to tremble slightly and groan. Erik sat still, transfixed on the warlock. All of a sudden Tukai pulled his hand back and opened his eyes.

“Your son will destroy your house, Lord Lokton. There is a power that runs through him, and it is a very dangerous power. If he is allowed to discover it, the power will awaken one day and consume all living. You will have to choose now.”

“Choose what?” Lord Lokton asked hesitantly.

“You will choose whether to kill him, or let him destroy the kingdom. A curse is over your son’s head.” Tukai glided over to Lord Lokton and placed a dagger on the table in front of him. The emerald encrusted hilt sparkled in the magical light. “Kill him now and save your house, save us all.”

Lord Lokton became very still. He locked eyes with the warlock for a moment before pulling the dagger up in his hand and throwing it back. “Get out of my hall, now. I will not kill my son.”

“But, Lord Lokton, if you do not kill your son this very night, he will kill you,” Tukai countered.

“I will not!” Erik roared angrily. He felt rage boil up in him until he could sit and watch no more. He pulled his dinner fork in his hand and ran over the table to get at Tukai. He lashed out, stabbing Tukai in the shoulder with his fork.

Tukai reeled back as he had before, only this time he made no sound. His eyes were wide with terror as he looked back at Erik. The warlock pulled the fork from his shoulder slowly. Blood coursed from the wound and seeped into the torn robes. With a hiss, Tukai disappeared, taking the magical light with him. Again the room was dark, but not as before. The moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting its silvery calm over the hall.

“Lights, now,” Lord Lokton commanded. Many people rushed to light the torches and the lamps. “I want every man sworn to my service to come into the center of the hall and kneel before me and my son.”

Erik watched with a confused expression as all of the men in the hall rushed to kneel before him. Only the magistrate did not kneel before him, as he was sworn to serve the kingdom, and not Lord Lokton.

“I want each of you to swear your loyalty now to my son, Erik,” Lord Lokton commanded.

“With respect, my lord,” the magistrate interjected. “The Warlocks of the Eye do not lie. The prophecies they give are true and always come to pass.”

Lord Lokton nodded his head. “I know that, my friend, but the prophecies are not always as they seem. The warlocks twist their words to turn the prophecy to their own purposes. I have been schooled in these matters by the Keeper of Secrets, himself. Tukai is not to be trusted, even if his prophecy does come true.” Lord Lokton turned back to the men before Erik and drew his sword. “Swear loyalty to my son now, each and every one of you. I don’t care what you think of me, my son, the omen, or this prophecy. None of you will harm a hair on my son’s head, ever. Swear loyalty now, or die by my sword.”