Erik lay in bed that night with too much on his mind to sleep. Whenever he did manage to close his eyes, the image of Tukai came and made him spring up in his bed. He wondered if the omen was true, and if the prophecy would come to pass. After dinner, Lord Lokton had sent everyone out of the manor, except Braun, who was told to double the guard and stand watch over Erik.

Erik looked at the crack under the door. Two shadows broke the line of light streaming in from the hall. The shadows were cast by Braun’s legs, he knew. The captain of the guard was always most dedicated when it came to protecting House Lokton, and Erik was comforted by the fact that Braun had never failed to stop any threat. He found himself wishing that Braun could somehow step into his head and clear the image of Tukai from his mind.

The warlock had frightened him more than anything, even more than Dimwater’s wolf. Yet, somehow, he had managed to hurt Tukai with a fork. Erik didn’t know much about magic, but from the look he saw on Tukai’s face, he knew that it should not have been possible to injure the warlock. Erik marveled at his success when only moments before Sir Duvall had tried to slay the warlock and his sword had passed right through Tukai’s chest without harm. It didn’t make any sense.

Something tapped at the window.

Erik turned quickly to see a raven sitting on the sill, tapping the glass with its beak. He regarded the bird curiously for a minute. The yellow eye reflected the pale light of the moon as it glared at Erik. It tapped the glass three more times. Erik rose to his feet and started to walk to the window. He flapped at the bird to scare it away, but the raven just cackled at him. It tapped the glass three more times and then cocked its head, looking right at him.

Erik was about to call Braun in, but he stopped short. He felt silly. Why would Braun care about a bird? He was standing watch to protect Erik from people, not birds. Erik drew the curtains over the window and went back to his bed. The tapping continued, growing more insistent with each set of three taps.

“Ah, sticks and stones!” Erik wailed as he jumped back out of bed.

“Everything alright, Master Erik?” Braun inquired from the other side of the door.

“Yeah,” Erik replied. “There’s just a stupid raven tapping on my window, and I can’t sleep.” Before Erik took a step the door flew open and Braun was inside the room with an axe in his left hand. The large, muscular man shoved Erik to the bed and tore the curtains from the walls. “It’s just a raven,” Erik said as he rubbed his chest.

The raven flew away at the sudden commotion and Braun slowly put his axe back on his belt. “You said it was tapping on your window?” Braun asked.

“Yeah, but I could have scared it away myself,” Erik said.

“How many taps?” Braun asked, ignoring Erik’s complaint.

“What?” Erik asked.

“How many taps, boy?” Braun asked.

“I’m not a boy anymore, Braun,” Erik gruffed, still rubbing his chest.

Braun crossed the bedroom in three steps and picked Erik off the bed with a fistful of shirt in his right hand. “The raven comes at night to tap the message of death. Six taps means that a friend of yours will die tonight, five taps means that someone in your house will die tonight, four taps means that you will die tonight, and three means that death comes for you but can be avoided. Tell me now, how many taps were there?”

Erik couldn’t think. He gasped for air and finally managed to squeeze out a word as he thought about the tapping. “Three,” Erik wheezed. “The raven tapped many times, but each time it was a set of three taps.”

Braun dropped him like a sack of rotten fish and threw the window open. “You two,” he shouted to a pair of guards leaning against the wall below Erik’s third story window. “Be on guard, we are soon to be attacked. Sound the alarm!” Erik heard the sharp, piercing sound of a whistle being blown from below. An instant later a bell sounded in response. “Get dressed, Master Erik, and be quick about it. You may have to leave tonight.”

Erik didn’t argue. He ripped his nightshirt off and threw on the closest clothes he had, his brown training tunic and simple tan trousers. He slipped his feet into his leather boots, without socks, and then grabbed a cloak from a hook inside the wardrobe door. “I’m ready,” he said as he threw his cloak around him.

Lord Lokton rushed through the doorway holding a great sword with an emerald in the pommel and crossguard. “What is it?” Lord Lokton demanded. His shirt of mail shimmered in the torchlight from the hall as he heaved to catch his breath.

“A raven tapped three times on Erik’s window,” Braun replied.

Erik half expected his adopted father to burst out laughing, or perhaps to chastise Braun, but he didn’t. Lord Lokton didn’t even crack his usually confident smirk or make any comeback remark at all. His eyes steeled over and his jaw set as though it were made of stone. “Then we have no time to lose,” Lord Lokton said.

Braun shoved Erik forward. Even if Erik had forgotten something, it was too late now. Lord Lokton led the way down the hall and Braun was pushing Erik on like a crazed bull. They ran until Lord Lokton stopped at a painting in the hall and ripped it from its place. He tore the false plaster the painting had covered and pulled an iron ring, connected to an old, strong chain, out of the wall. A heavy clicking sound was heard through the wall and then the sound of gears and cogs spinning and creaking. A section of the wall was pulled back to reveal a secret passageway. Before Erik could say anything, the three of them rushed in.

The tunnel quickly gave way to a set of spiraling stairs that led down dizzyingly. Erik tried his hardest not to trip as Braun kept shoving him relentlessly forward. Erik wasn’t sure how far down they had gone, but it seemed like a lot more than three stories worth of stairs. Once they were at the bottom, Lord Lokton ran to a metal box on the wall and opened it. Inside the box were several levers and chains. The first lever Lord Lokton pulled opened a hole under the spiral staircase and the metal stairs flew straight down into the hole, like a prairie dog darting into its mound, until they disappeared from view. The second lever opened a hallway inside another wall.

“Get him out of here, Braun,” Lord Lokton ordered.

“What about you and Raisa?” Braun asked.

“Go, Lady Lokton will be safe, but I must stay and help our men.”

“With respect-” Braun started to argue but Lord Lokton came up fast and hard, grabbing him by the collar. Erik had been afraid of Braun when the large guard had picked him up, but the rage boiling in his father’s eyes seemed to dwarf the large guard completely.

“Do as I say,” Lord Lokton yelled. “Protect my son, and don’t you fail me Braun, or I will find you, and you will pay for it.”

Braun said nothing. He grabbed Erik and swept him into the hall. The door to the hallway slid closed. For a second it was completely dark. Then Erik heard another clicking sound followed by a loud hiss. Light exploded through the hall as fire ignited across the walls of the hall in parallel lines above Braun’s head.

“Don’t be afraid,” Braun said as he kept pushing from behind. “The fire was lit by your father, to light our way. There are two troughs of oil that run the length of these walls.”

“Where does this tunnel lead?” Erik asked.

“First to a secret chamber where we can outfit with weapons and equipment, then out to the stables. Our horses will already be waiting for us.”

“How do the stable hands know to prepare our horses?”

“The alarm,” Braun said simply as he pushed harder. “Run your mouth less and your legs more, if you want to live.”

Erik ran for all he was worth, but it still wasn’t fast enough to keep Braun’s enormous hand off of him. It was like trying to run in front of Goliath. Soon the end of the tunnel was in sight. A large, brown metal door stood closed. Erik tried to slow down but Braun kept pushing. The door was coming closer and closer. Erik felt his heart skip when he saw that there were spikes jutting out toward him from the metal door.

“Braun?” Erik asked weakly. The big guard pushed harder, and Erik went hurtling towards the long, shimmering spikes.

*****

Master Lepkin sat back from the table and stared at the papers in front of him. He had spent the last few hours studying the ancient texts in the library at Kuldiga Academy. He had told Master Orres that he would be back Monday morning, but something inside had told him that he couldn’t delay. So, shortly after Orres had left, Lepkin mounted his horse and raced back to Kuldiga Academy. First he had gone to his study to retrieve an old, brown tome. He had also gathered a few things that he felt were necessary for Erik’s training and packed them onto his horse, hidden out in the nearby forest. After that, he came back to the library, where he now sat looking over charts and diagrams.

“Doing a bit of reading, are we?” a familiar voice called out to him from the shadows.

“Yes, a few last minute preparations,” Master Lepkin replied. He turned in his chair and smiled as Janik came into the candlelight. “I was sure I had snuck past you this time, old man.”

“Who are you calling old?” Janik replied disdainfully. He pulled a chair up quietly and sat it down next to Lepkin. His eyes studied the papers on the table. “The spell of the nighthawk,” Janik said as he traced one of the papers with his finger. “What exactly are you preparing for?”

“Your brother has sent me and Erik away for the rest of the year,” Lepkin replied.

Janik raised a curious eyebrow for a moment, but continued to scan the papers. “I see.”

“You aren’t surprised?” Lepkin asked.

“No, there are not many things that Orres does that surprise me. I have known him for a very long time, after all.” Janik pulled a small book from behind his back and laid it on the table. “Perhaps this will help you.”

Master Lepkin took the book in hand and read its title aloud, “Anecdotes of the Forgotten Traveler.” Master Lepkin opened the cover and gently flipped a few of the pages. “What is this? The pages are blank.”

“The pages are blank, but there are words on the pages, as sure as I am breathing now. It is my brother’s journal. He writes in it most nights before he goes to sleep. He’s had it since he was a boy.”

“Why would I want your brother’s journal?” Master Lepkin asked skeptically.

“I have a suspicion that he is not playing on the same side as you and I,” Janik replied evenly.

“What makes you say that?”

Janik got up and went to the window, limping and rubbing his sore leg as he went. “Come here,” he whispered. “But leave the candle where it is.”

Lepkin rose and walked over beside Janik. His gaze followed Janik’s finger and looked down to the courtyard. There, in the moonlight he saw Master Orres standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Janik tapped Lepkin’s shoulder and pointed across the courtyard. Master Lepkin looked up and saw a light through a window on the third floor. It was his window.

“That’s my study,” Lepkin said.

Janik nodded and gently pushed the window open as three men entered the courtyard and approached Orres. Janik held a finger up to his mouth, telling Lepkin to be quiet.

“Well, did you find it?” Orres demanded.

“No, it wasn’t there,” one of the men replied.

“What do you mean it wasn’t there?” Orres fumed. “He is the Keeper of Secrets; I know he has the book!”

“Master Orres is after the book?” Lepkin whispered. Janik placed a finger to Lepkin’s mouth and gave him a stern look.

“Maybe Master Lepkin has come back and taken the book,” one of the three men said.

“No,” Orres growled. “I saw Lepkin myself, back at his cabin. He said he wasn’t going to come back until Monday. Besides, he would never come here while Erik’s life was in jeopardy.”

Lepkin removed Janik’s finger and glared at him. “What is your brother talking about?”

Janik grabbed Lepkin’s face and made him look back down to Orres.

“I am sure Lord Lokton would have sent for Lepkin after Tukai paid him a visit. Lepkin would not have come here if he knew about the prophecy given at Erik’s Konn Deta feast. Now go back up there and don’t come back to me until you have found Nagar’s Secret!” Orres slugged one of the men, hard, knocking him to the ground. The other two were quick to help their companion up and then run back into the building.

Janik closed the window and pushed Lepkin back to the table. “I was making my rounds when I heard Orres give the initial order to search your study. I thought it would attract too much attention to stop them, so instead I snuck into Orres’ study and took his journal. I’m not sure why he seeks the dark tome, but I suspect you’ll find the answers in that journal, if you can figure out how to make the words appear.”

“You did right,” Lepkin said. He started organizing the papers and hurriedly stuffed them into a saddle bag that he had brought up. “Orres can look all night. They won’t find the book here.”

“You’ve hidden Nagar’s Secret elsewhere then?” Janik asked. Master Lepkin didn’t respond. Janik paused for a moment and inhaled deeply. “Did you hear about Tukai?”

“Yes, I heard your brother mention the warlock,” Lepkin said grimly. “If that is true, then it is likely too late for Erik.”

Janik grabbed Lepkin by the shoulders. “Look at me,” Janik implored. “If Erik is strong enough to defeat Dimwater’s wolf, he can probably hold off a warlock, for a while at least. You have to get to him.”

“There is little chance that Erik is still alive,” Lepkin said, colder than he meant to.

“If he dies, then there is little chance that any of us will live.” Janik sighed heavily.

“Alright, I’ll go. You keep an eye on your brother, but don’t do anything until I return. I will deal with him later.”

“May the gods grant you strength,” Janik said. “I will tell Lady Dimwater that you regretted not being able to say good-bye to her.” The two clasped wrists and then Lepkin grabbed the saddle bag and bolted for the door.

Janik cleared the rest of the papers and books from the table and put them back in their rightful places on the bookshelves. He had just put the last book back when three men, dressed in plain, dirty clothes came through the doorway. One of them had a split bottom lip.

“Gentlemen, I’m afraid Kuldiga Academy is closed for the weekend. You’ll have to come back in a couple days.”

“Do you think he knows anything?” one of the men asked. Janik noted that the man’s hand lowered to the hilt of a sword hanging from his belt.

“There is one way to find out,” one of the others said.

*****

Erik stumbled right through the spikes and then the door and fell flat on his stomach. Braun ran right over him and stopped at a rack of swords. He grabbed a short sword and quickly belted it to his waist. “Get up, Master Erik,” Braun said dryly.

Erik looked back at the door, but it was gone. All he could see was the hallway they had been running in. “Where is the door? I swear I saw a door with spikes, and you pushed me right at them.”

Braun looked back and regarded Erik for a moment before smirking. “Warlocks aren’t the only ones with magic. It’s an ancient spell meant to slow down any intruders that may have found the tunnel.”

“You mean the door wasn’t real?” Erik asked incredulously.

“That’s exactly right.” Braun reached to a rack on the wall and grabbed a pair of battle-axes. “C’mon, boy, we need to move. Get up here and choose a sword.”

Erik pushed up to his feet and went to the sword rack. He grabbed the nearest long sword and held it up, testing its balance. Deciding it would do just fine he took the sword and went to a nearby wardrobe to find a belt. Braun marched over and pushed Erik back from the wardrobe. He eyed him quick, measuring him, and then grabbed a leather hauberk, leather leggings, and a leather helmet.

“Put these on as fast as you can,” Braun ordered. “Right over the top of your clothes,” he added. Erik did as he was told. By the time he was finished Braun had chosen a chainmail shirt and steel helmet to complete the ensemble. “Here, arms up boy,” Braun said. Erik lifted his arms and Braun pulled the heavy mail over Erik’s torso. Then Braun placed the helmet on his head and tightened the chin strap. “It ain’t the best armor, but it will do till we get to some place where we can buy you a proper suit.”

Braun helped Erik belt the sword onto his waist and then looked at the boy for a moment. Braun turned around and pulled a bow from a rack near the wardrobe. He slid the bow over one of Erik’s shoulders and then he grabbed a quiver with a dozen arrows and strapped it to Erik’s back.

“I’ve never shot a bow before,” Erik said.

“We’ll worry about that later,” Braun replied. “Let’s go.” Braun grabbed the back of Erik’s neck and pushed him onward again.

Erik had to focus hard not to topple over on his face this time. The chainmail made him off balance, the padded leather armor slowed him down, and the helmet was much heavier than he had expected. All Braun needed to do was add just a little more effort to his pushing and Erik would be stuck on the ground like an over-turned beetle. Luckily, the three times Erik did start to fall, Braun’s hand yanked him back upright and kept him going straight.

When the tunnel finally ended in a ladder, Erik wasn’t sure he could climb. He was tired from running and unable to move half as well as he was used to. Braun didn’t wait. He grabbed Erik and pushed him up the ladder until Erik was finally able to scramble up himself. When the hatch popped open, Erik saw four guards standing there, protecting his escape. A fifth guard rushed over and reached down to pull Erik out of the hole.

“Come on, Master Erik, let’s go,” the man said as he hoisted Erik up and onto the ground.

Erik looked around and his mouth fell open. Some of the sheds and guard houses were ablaze, overrun by yellow and orange flames that reached upward, licking at the night sky. Men were shouting everywhere. Erik saw men running with buckets of water, while the guards dismissed the fires and chased other things through the darkness. Screams and shouts of pain were accompanied by ringing sounds, and the occasional howl. Erik had no idea what was happening.

A hand dropped on his shoulder. “Move, your horse is over there,” Braun shouted. Erik hurried over to Goliath. His mammoth horse was not only fitted with a proper saddle, but also had saddle bags in place. Erik realized that he would not be coming back home any time soon. With help of several guards Erik finally got onto his saddle. Braun wasted no time. He mounted his own horse and then grabbed Goliath’s reins as he charged off, taking Erik into the night and away from danger.

Erik held on tight, keeping his eyes focused on the trail ahead and trying to force the sounds out of his ears. They rushed over the fields of his father’s land, toward the forest. As they neared the tree line Erik heard shouting from one of the nearby cottages. Something inside crashed, it sounded like a table and dishes falling to the floor. Erik looked to the cottage and realized that it was Louis’ home. He knew the old man lived with his wife, and neither of them would be able to protect themselves against an intruder. Erik felt a strange emotion come over him. He reached forward and, with strength previously unknown to him, yanked the reins out of Braun’s hand. Erik turned Goliath toward the cottage and drew his sword.

“Erik, no,” Braun shouted. Erik ignored the warning.

The young man leapt from atop the horse and crashed through the doorway. He quickly gained his footing and assessed the situation. For an instant everyone inside was completely motionless, as if his presence had frozen them in place. Erik saw two men, wearing dirty, old tunics and leather breeches. One man held a knife to Louis’ throat and the other held Louis’ wife on the bed. Their beady, yellow eyes stared back at him for what seemed like an hour.

Rage boiled up inside Erik.

He dashed over and cut down the man that held the knife to Louis’ throat before anyone in the room could blink. Then, he turned to face the other man, with the rage burning in his eyes. The man released Louis’ wife and ran for the doorway, but Braun was already there with his axe. Braun ended the man’s life and let the body slump to the floor.

“Erik, we must go, now,” Braun ordered.

Erik looked around him for a moment. “We must protect the people,” he replied. He looked down to the man he had killed and the color drained from his face. The man’s agony was forever etched into the expression that looked back up to Erik. Suddenly the boy felt weak in the knees. Louis caught him before he fell and Braun was there in an instant.

“Come on, Master Erik,” Braun said coolly. “We must go.” Erik nodded slowly as Braun helped him regain his footing.

“Thank you, Master Erik,” Louis offered with a bow of the head.

Louis’ words helped remind Erik of the urgency of the situation, and helped to lessen the feelings of guilt and horror in Erik’s gut. The young man looked up to Louis and offered a smile before Braun pulled him out of the cottage and flung him back atop his horse.

“That was a brave thing,” Braun commented. “Stupid, but brave.” Braun took Goliath’s reins again and the two sped off for the forest. They had to slow down once they were inside the trees, but Braun seemed to be much more at ease now despite the slower pace.

He led them to a huge, thick wall of briar bushes. Braun dismounted and slowly, gently, pushed the thick briar bushes apart so they could pass through. Erik noticed that the ground sloped down steeply into a sort of earthen bowl. The briar bushes stretched over the top of the bowl like a thorny, wooden roof. Erik was surprised that there was enough room in the bowl for him to sit atop Goliath without even worrying about the thorns above.

“This will keep us safe for a while,” Braun said. “We will pass the night here.”

Erik looked back over the way they had entered the bowl. The bushes had moved back into place behind them, completely blocking the view of the forest. “We are still quite close to the fighting,” Erik said.

“True, but any pursuers will try to go around this area. The briars are treacherous to pass through. The thorns can rip through chainmail if you hit them right. Even if someone managed to get through the briars, they will have to answer to my axe.”

“What of all the people?” Erik asked. “Shouldn’t we help them?”

“We are helping them, Master Erik. We are helping them by protecting you.”

Erik shook his head. He didn’t understand that. “Wouldn’t it be better if the enemy got me?” Erik asked. “If they came for me, then all of this will stop if I give myself up.”

Braun came over and grabbed the boy from his saddle, throwing him roughly to the dirt below. “Listen to me, boy,” Braun growled. “My job is to protect you from all dangers, including yourself. If you gave yourself to the enemy do you really think they would call off the attack?” Braun tightened his grip on Erik’s chainmail. “Your father would never allow them to get away with you in their grasp. He would come for you. The fighting would continue down to the last man, do you hear me boy?”

“Yes, Braun, I hear you,” Erik replied.

“Even if the fighting did stop, some of my men have already died. I can not think that they died for nothing. Some will suffer, that is the way of war, but if we hold to our course, we can save many more from suffering. Do you understand?”

Erik nodded with a tear in his eye. He didn’t like the thought of people suffering to protect him. “Is this about the omen, Braun?”

Braun was silent for a long time. He released his grip on Erik and walked away. Something rustled the briar branches from the side of the bowl. Braun looked to Erik and held a finger to his lips. Erik nodded and rolled over to his knees. Both of them silently prepared their weapons and waited.

All at once a trio of men burst into the bowl. They howled savagely and had crazed looks in their eyes. Two of the men went for Braun and one went for Erik. Braun sliced at the men, but caught only air. A knife flashed across Braun’s chest, but he was protected by his armor. Braun struck out with the pommel of his axe and caught one of the savage men square in the face, splatting the man’s nose.

Erik jumped to his feet and held out his sword, but his attacker came straight at him, unafraid. Erik couldn’t see well enough in the dark to calculate how many steps it would take the man to reach him so he took a wild swing at the man as he drew close. The man rolled on the ground and shoved a knife up into Erik’s abdomen with one hand while he swung a hatchet into Erik’s side with the other hand. Erik’s eyes went wide. The force of both blows was astonishing. Erik crumpled to the side, but he held the grip on his sword tight. His attacker howled with delight and rose over Erik’s head to deliver the killing blow.

Erik swung his sword back, clumsily, but his attacker grabbed him at the wrist and came down with his hatchet. Just before the blade connected with Erik’s cheek, a flash of fur and metal and hoof caught the attacker in the ribs. Erik felt the force of the impact as though it were thunder. The attacker’s ribs cracked like dry sticks and then he went sprawling to the side of the bowl.

Goliath trotted around Erik and stood defiantly between the attacker and his master. Erik gave silent thanks to his horse and promised to reward the animal later. He then looked up to see how Braun was faring. Braun had his back against the side of the bowl. Something dark and shiny ran down his left arm and over some other parts of his armor. Both of the other attackers were working ferociously on the guard. Erik rose to his feet. He had to help his friend. The crazed man with the broken ribs also rose to his feet, but Goliath kicked and stomped. The man jumped this way and that, trying to evade the horse and get to Erik, but Goliath held his ground and pushed the man back.

Erik nodded to Goliath and then charged the pair hacking at Braun. He stabbed his sword at the back of the closest attacker, but the man somehow knew what was coming and jumped away at the last second. Erik had to scramble to keep from stumbling forward and running his blade through his friend. The attacker he had tried to kill jumped back at him with the speed of a forest cat. Erik was on his back, looking up into the wild man’s eyes. Erik reached up and grabbed the man’s wrist just before a dagger could be driven into his neck. Erik tried to move his sword hand, but the man was kneeling on his other arm and Erik couldn’t muster the strength to free himself. The two were at a stalemate for the briefest of moments, and then the dagger started inching forward. Erik pushed against the man’s arm with all of his might but the attacker leaned forward and let his bodyweight overpower Erik.

Erik glanced over to Braun with his eyes, hoping that his friend could help and save him, but his hopes were dashed apart when he saw Braun was still locked in combat with the third attacker, and there was no way for him to reach Erik before the knife point would plunge into him. Erik yelled in anger and frustration, pouring all of his strength into the fight. Still the dagger came down toward his throat. Erik called out for Goliath and then the man on top of him was snatched off and Erik heard growling and cries of agony.

Erik looked over, expecting to see his horse stomp the man into the dirt, but the animal before him was not a horse. It was a wolf. The man suddenly twitched and arched his back, then was still. The wolf looked back to Erik with intense eyes and a wet, shiny maw. It was Dimwater’s wolf. Erik froze for an instant. A flurry of thoughts swarmed his mind. Had the wolf come to finish him off? Was Dimwater part of the assault on his home?

The wolf leapt back toward Goliath. The two animals made quick work of their foe and then the wolf dashed across the earthen bowl and ripped the last attacker away from Braun. The man emitted a horrible scream as the wolf tore into the back of his neck and flung him around like a rag doll. The man’s neck snapped with a deafening crack, and then the man went limp. As quickly as the fight had started, silence overtook the bowl.

Erik sat staring at the wolf. Braun slumped to his knees, breathing heavily. Goliath came up beside Erik and pawed at the dirt next to him. Erik absently reached up and petted his horse’s leg, staring at the wolf all the while. The wolf gazed into Erik’s eyes for just a moment before it leapt out of the bowl through the briars, without even disturbing a single thorn of the massive entanglement. Erik shuddered and then went over to Braun.

“Are you alright, Braun?” Erik asked.

“Yes, I will be fine. I will need you to fetch a small leather bag out of my saddle bag though. I need to patch up a few places.”

Erik nodded and rose to his feet and then he remembered that the first attacker had gotten him as well. Slowly he slid his left hand to his abdomen, where the knife had entered. There was warm liquid, but not as much as he expected. He then cupped his right hand to his side where the hatchet had struck him and found no blood at all.

“Let me look,” Braun said. Erik removed his hands and let Braun look at him. Braun traced his index finger over his side. “This side is fine, the chainmail withheld the blow. Let me see your stomach.” Erik turned and Braun tenderly touched around the stab wound. “You’re fine,” he said after a few seconds.

“But, I was stabbed. There is blood too,” Erik protested.

“It isn’t so bad, Erik,” Braun reassured. “The knife never touched you. A couple of your links broke through your hauberk and dug into your skin, but that’s all. Go and get my bag.”

Erik was dumbfounded, but he did as he was told. He opened the saddle bag and felt around. He pulled out a wrapped leather bag closed with a thong tied around the opening. “Is this it?” Erik asked.

Braun nodded and held out his hand. Erik brought him the bag. “Now, I need you to get a candle so I can see what I am doing. You should find one in the other saddle bag.”

“Would you rather I make a torch?” Erik asked.

“No,” Braun said. His breathing was still heavy, but his words were getting softer. “Just get the candle, like I asked. A torch would be too much light.”

Erik went to the other saddle bag and retrieved a candle and some matches. He set the candle down in front of Braun and lit it. The earthen bowl threw shadows around as the light flickered. Erik looked up and his mouth fell open. Several large gashes hung open on Braun’s left arm. Blood streamed steadily from the wounds. As Erik followed the path of the blood he noticed that there were several gashes along the side of Braun’s left thigh as well.

“Here, heat this needle in the flame,” Braun instructed. Braun finished unrolling the leather wrap and Erik saw many tools inside. Scissors, large needles, white thread, gauze, scalpels, and even a small hand saw. “It’s a field surgeon’s kit,” Braun said without looking up. “I’m going to sew these gashes closed after I stop the bleeding.” Braun grabbed some gauze and held it to the worst of the gashes in his shoulder. Erik was amazed that Braun didn’t even flinch. His face was as calm as ever. “There is a white cloth bag near where the field surgeon’s kit was. Go and grab it for me.”

Erik jumped up and ran to get the white bag. He brought it back and loosened the black drawstring for Braun. Braun casually dumped the contents into the dirt and fumbled through the many small bottles, jars, and boxes. When he found a glass jar with a green, powdery substance inside, he smiled and opened it.

“What is that?” Erik asked in a whisper.

“It’s a mixture your father makes. It will help stop the bleeding, and prevent infections. Here, hold out your hand.” Braun dumped a copious amount of the powder into Erik’s hand and then set the jar down. “All right, now when I take the first gauze off, you rub it right into the wound.” Erik nodded and got his hand close to the gash. Braun removed the gauze and Erik rubbed in the powder. Again, Erik was surprised that Braun didn’t grimace or cry out. When Braun was satisfied he grabbed a new piece of gauze and held it out for Erik. “Hold this while I sew.” Braun took the needle out of the candle’s flame and threaded it with dark thread. He then stitched his flesh together, sealing the green powder inside. When he was done he bit the end of the thread and nodded to Erik. “Wrap the strip of gauze around and tie it off.”

Erik did as he was told and then Braun grabbed the glass jar again. “Now, we need to repeat the process for each of these gashes.” Erik nodded and the two sat for close to an hour dressing the more serious gashes. Sometimes Erik would point to a long gash and suggest that it also be sewn, but Braun would just rub some of the powder on it and call it good, saying that it wasn’t deep enough to warrant stitches. After they were done Braun leaned back against the dirt rim of the bowl and sighed. Erik put the kit and white bag back in their places and then came to sit next to Braun.

“You lost a lot of blood,” Erik commented.

“A thousand cuts will kill you just as sure as a quick stab to the heart,” Braun replied noncommittally.

“That is the way of the Blacktongues,” a man’s voice called from the opposite side of the bowl. Erik couldn’t see the man’s face, but Braun was back on his feet in an instant with axe in hand.

“Identify yourself or die,” Braun growled.

“Easy, Braun, it’s Master Lepkin,” the voice replied. “May I come in?”

Braun didn’t relax his stance. “Come slowly, and make sure I see your face before I even catch a hint of a weapon.” Erik was tense. He couldn’t be certain that the voice belonged to his mentor, but he hoped that it did. There was no one he would rather see right now than Lepkin.

The briar bushes gently moved aside and down came a man. Slowly, the man pulled back his dark hood and stepped into the candlelight. Lepkin stood there, smiling knowingly at the two of them as his eyes surveyed the scene around them. “Blacktongues prefer to use their speed and dexterity to kill stronger opponents,” Lepkin said as he looked around. “They would have continued slicing you down until you were too weak to fight, then they would have finished you.”

“Master Lepkin, it does my heart good to see you here,” Braun said with a nod of his head.

“Erik, your father and mother are safe. The battle is over.” Lepkin walked over and rustled Erik’s hair.

“Over?” Braun asked, stunned. “Who was it?”

“Don’t know,” Lepkin replied with a shrug. “I would suspect it had something to do with Tukai, but the rest of the enemy pulled out shortly after I arrived.”

Braun gave a knowing smile. “They were smart to do so.”

“Did Lady Dimwater come with you?” Erik asked.

Master Lepkin arched an eyebrow and regarded Erik curiously. “No, she didn’t. Why do you ask?”

“Her wolf was here,” Erik replied.

“It’s true,” Braun confirmed. “As much as it hurts my pride to admit it, the wolf saved both of our lives. These Blacktongues almost had us.”

“I see,” Lepkin said as he stroked his chin. “Well, we shall have a chat with her later.” Lepkin placed a hand on Erik. “You must come with me now.”

“What? Can’t I go and see my father first?”

Lepkin shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

Braun stepped up and let his left arm hang loosely around Erik’s shoulders. “Master Erik should be allowed to go and see Lord Lokton. I was given the sole responsibility for keeping Erik safe and I must return to Lord Lokton with him.”

“No,” Lepkin said with a decisive shake of his head. “I spoke with Lord Lokton. There are events already in motion and we must work quickly to avoid disaster. Erik goes with me now. You will return to Lord Lokton and tell him that you handed Erik off to me.”

“As you say, Master Lepkin,” Braun relented.

“One more thing,” Master Lepkin said. “Take Erik’s horse back with you.” Erik and Braun exchanged glances for a moment. “Just do as I say.”

Braun nodded and left as quickly as his wounds would let him. Erik and Master Lepkin climbed out of the earthen bowl and carefully picked their way through the briars. They walked on through the forest for a long time. Every once in a while Master Lepkin would gently push Erik down toward the ground and place a finger over his lips. After the danger had passed Lepkin would let Erik back up and they continued walking deeper into the forest. Neither of them spoke for the space of two hours. The only sound came from their breathing and the padded steps of their feet on the dirt, or occasional twig. Finally they came to a copse of dark trees and sat next to them. Lepkin held out a biscuit for Erik, but Erik didn’t take it. He wasn’t hungry.

“I heard about the warlock,” Master Lepkin said quietly.

“Who told you?” Erik asked.

“That isn’t important,” Lepkin replied. “I want to know how you managed to hurt the warlock, when even Sir Duvall couldn’t touch him.” Lepkin turned hard eyes on Erik, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know,” Erik said with a shrug. “I just remember being so angry at him for saying those things he said.”

“Ah,” Lepkin said with a nod. “So you were not afraid of him?”

“I was at first.” The two sat for a while. Erik wondered what Lepkin was thinking about. He seemed to be off in distant thoughts for a long time. “Do you know of the prophecy that the warlock spoke of?” Erik asked after a while.

“Yes,” Lepkin said with a nod. “It would appear that your house is doomed, boy.”

There was something about the way Lepkin said “boy” that made him shiver. It reminded him of the warlock, and the way that he had looked at him. He remembered the cold, deadly hand in front of his face, as though Tukai had been searching his soul with some sort of dark magic. Erik brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“What are you feeling now?” Lepkin asked.

“I am afraid,” Erik answered.

“Afraid you will kill your father?” Lepkin asked.

“Yes,” Erik replied weakly. Tears filled his eyes.

“Afraid that you will repay his kindness with death and evil, is that it?”

“Yes,” Erik whispered. Tears slid down his cheeks now at the thought of it.

“First the omen, and now the prophecy,” Lepkin whispered harshly. “Perhaps you are a cursed boy.”

Erik nodded, but said nothing.

Lepkin rose to his feet and put his hands on his hips. “There is one way to solve this problem,” he said hesitantly.

“What is it?” Erik asked. He looked up through watery eyes at his mentor. “I’ll do anything to spare my father pain.”

Lepkin nodded solemnly and then pulled a knife from his belt. He threw it to the ground in front of Erik. “The prophecy states that Lord Lokton’s son will kill him, unless he is killed this night. You can spare your father’s life, but you must act quickly, boy.”

Erik reached out for the knife and drew it from the sheath. He watched the moonlight reflect off the curved blade as he gripped the handle and held it up. “Is there no other way?” Erik asked.

“There is no other way,” Lepkin replied. “Evil rises all around and we need every good man we have in the kingdom to fight it off. The loss of Lord Lokton would be a crushing blow to this region of the kingdom.” Lepkin knelt down beside Erik and put his mouth to his ear. “Think of it, boy,” Lepkin whispered harshly. “You must choose between the two evils. Either you die, tonight, or your father dies later. Which is worse? The death of a noble and just lord at the hands of his traitorous son, or the death of an orphan boy that was not even important enough for anyone to mark his day of birth.” Lepkin leaned back as Erik nodded.

“If I die tonight, I could at least spare my father, and protect the kingdom,” he whispered through streams of tears. He set the knife down and clumsily removed his chainmail and leather hauberk.

“And you will be remembered as an honorable boy, one who gave himself to save others. You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Lepkin coaxed as he helped remove the armor.

Erik nodded. Slowly he raised the dagger with his left hand and pointed the tip towards his chest. “Will you tell my father that I love him?” Erik asked. He turned to Lepkin and their eyes met.

“I will,” Lepkin said.

“Thank you,” Erik said. He reached out and patted Lepkin’s left shoulder. Lepkin winced and pulled away. Erik scrunched up his face and looked at Lepkin’s arm. “Are you hurt?” Erik asked.

“It is nothing,” Lepkin reassured him. “Go on, boy, before it is too late.”

Erik hesitated. Master Lepkin had never called him “boy” like this before. Something was wrong. He thought about Lepkin’s shoulder. There was no blood that he could see, so the wound couldn’t be very great. His mind raced back to Braun sewing himself up without even flinching. Wouldn’t Lepkin be just as strong as Braun? No, Lepkin was stronger than Braun, Erik knew. Erik jumped to his feet and held the dagger out at Lepkin.

“What are you doing?” Lepkin demanded with his eyebrow arched. “Stop this.”

“You aren’t Master Lepkin,” Erik shouted. “You are Tukai, aren’t you?” Erik backed away a few steps and held the dagger out threateningly. Lepkin rose to his feet and picked up the sword the Erik had laid down next to his discarded armor.

“You are stronger than I thought,” Lepkin said with a wicked sneer. His face seemed to lose its features, as if covered by a sheet of water. Lepkin’s face vanished and was replaced by that of Tukai. “It is not easy to break a warlock’s hypnosis spell. But it does not matter.” Tukai waved his hand and the dagger Erik held vanished. “I have left you without a weapon, boy,” Tukai hissed. “What will you do now?”

Erik bent down and picked up a long stick. He slammed one end of it against a tree and snapped a third of the wood off, leaving a sharp, jagged point. “Come at me if you will, warlock,” Erik growled. “I am not afraid of you.” Erik focused all of his anger into the stick he held. He could not let fear take him again. He had come too close to the edge already.

Tukai laughed. “You can not defeat a warlock, boy.”

“I hurt you before,” Erik replied sternly. “With a fork.”

Tukai nodded, but his sly smile did not disappear. “I let you get too close the first time, but I will not make that mistake again.” Tukai pointed a hand at Erik and a large ball of green flame erupted in the air. The fireball flew for Erik, but he dove behind the tree. The fireball slammed through the tree and engulfed the trunk in green and yellow flames. The trunk burst open and the burning tree fell to the ground, cracking and breaking as it slammed through the forest. Erik rolled out of the way only to see another ball of fire zipping toward him. He ducked behind a rock. The flames licked his makeshift spear and tickled his shoulders, but he was safe as the fire died away.

Erik jumped to his feet and launched the spear at the warlock. Tukai waved his other hand and the spear turned to dust. “Nice try, my boy, it would make your old master proud to know that you fought to the end.” Tukai clapped his hands together and a force of thunder blew through the air. Trees snapped from their trunks or were ripped from the ground. Erik was thrown to the dirt, hard. After he regained his senses he pushed up and felt a trickle of warm liquid across his forehead. He put his hand up and felt a small, stinging cut.

“Impressive,” Tukai commented. “Not many can withstand the warlock’s clap. But now you can see you have no place to run.”

Erik looked around. All trees in a radius of approximately fifty yards around Tukai had been cleared more efficiently by the spell than loggers could have done in a month. There was no place to run, and no cover to hide behind. Erik pushed himself up to his knees and felt the aching in his bones. His strength was gone. The warlock had him.