An eery, unnatural silence sat in the forest as the evicted force moved like shadows through the woods. Why had they spent the last three days moving away from the mountain hideout?

No one expected the arrival of the Elders of both black and white factions. Elders they had been told were dead. Like some Knight of old, their leader had ordered them to defend the keep. What followed couldn't be called fighting. Immediately, a divide between the forces appeared. Those of the Old Way refused to raise a weapon against their elder brethren. If any Assassin had been in hiding, that moment had defined and exposed them.

The Elders had trusted no one, forcing eviction of everyone, advising those who had not raised a hand against them to prove themselves on the field of battle. These actions and words had the forces on edge.

Was everything told to them a lie? That brought up the next question, what was the truth?

It didn't take much brainpower to realise events did not add up to the information used to brainwash them into doing his bidding, a skilled and cunning manipulator. These events had them questioning everything, including themselves, each other, their intentions and beliefs.

Conversations hummed around the campfires of patrols sent out not returning. There were rumours of evidence of plans their leader was carrying out to harm everyone, including those in their world.

It hadn't helped their leader's standing that he when caught trying to escape. When the Elders questioned him about the location of the secret escape route, genuine confusion filled his expression as he was forced to kneel before a black faction Elder. A verdict announced him as a traitor to the Order and the Old Way. Striped of any kind of decoration received during training, the Elders sent them all to make of themselves what they would.

Immediately after eviction, orders were given to move on Jezebel's House. Those lusting for the kill moved the troops forward daily, longing to draw blood. Those taught and trained in the Old Ways felt reluctance in moving against their brethren. They were constantly watched, tracked, traced and guarded by those blind to the lies and manipulations. Spoken of as traitors to their leader's cause. Members of companies change seamlessly. Those who held to the Old Ways kept to themselves, finding safety in numbers.

The journey toward Jezebel's house had been easy on the troops. They could have continued for several hours, but their leader would only travel between sunrise and sunset. When night fell, orders were given for the encampment to be silent. Troops were not permitted to train or exercise. These restricted movements made them edgy, causing unnecessary arguments and fights followed by injuries.

Two commanders sat, fully dressed in a medic tent, their black hooded capes covering their torsos to below their hips. Two men sat on beds having injuries attended to. The usual medical staff were not permitted to assist those branded traitors. Fortunately, many in command of brethren were well trained in treating many injuries sustained, so this implemented prejudice did not create the required effect. They tended their own as they had for many years.

"How long until we get there?" one commander asked the other.

"If we move by sun up and not after," he sighed, "in another eight hours."

"Did you notice the lookout?"

"Yes, but decided not to report it," the one whispered, "you?"

"Same," he nodded to the soldier, "you're good to go, light-duty until that heals."

"Another out of the running if we are attacked," the second commander said, dismissing his soldier and turning to his friend, "I had a dream last night..."

"Was it a good one?" the joke drew a weak smile.

"Depends. It's been recurring for a few weeks now. Connie taught us of the Royal lineage when we were at school," he said.

"Jase, that was years ago," his friend shook his head, "we don't know if it was true."

"I think it was," Jase said, "Ty, Connie was an Elder. She ruled at one time before her daughter took over. In the dream, I remember her saying, our world is always ruled by a Queen and her Guard."

"Yeah, I remember something about that," Ty nodded, frowning in sudden understanding, "we have been pulled into someone's vendetta and taken up on the wrong side... haven't we?"

"I would seem so. Do you remember the pledge we took with Zander and Alyx?"

"To defend the school, the Elders, the Royal lineage and the Ruler," Ty nodded, "you think it was real?"

"I do," Jase said, "we were led to believe it was a schoolboy thing and nothing more. What if it was actual and real? I was looking through the archives at the mountain hideout. There is never a mention of a pledge being false, or can only be taken after a certain age to be real."

"Then we have to make right our wrongs," Ty said, "that means we are part of Zander's Guard and can be seen as deserters."

Movement in the doorway showed a group of brethren staring at the pair.

"What is it?" Jase asked, standing as he took in the severe expressions of his brethren.

Silently they filed in, twenty in total. Jase and Ty waited, not knowing what to expect. This could be a challenge or an unwarranted execution if they were overheard.

"We overheard what you were saying about the pledge at school," one of the men whispered, "some of us were also trained by Connie, but we were not part of the elite. All of us have felt ... uncomfortable regarding events in the past years, stuck as we were unable to see a way out without losing our lives or families. We guessed you two were part of the elite trained Assassins ..." he shook his head, "no one knows but your companies."

"You guessed?" Ty asked, his eye narrowing on those gathered.

"It started with glances, expressions, barely contained bristling when the Royals were spoken of or accused, or orders were given to eliminate them," another man said. "Then there was the missing information requested, which never came through nor came to light. Only someone of your ranks could get that right."

"It was your sheer fury at the cowardly murder of Connie that gave you away," another said, "to us anyway."

Jase and Ty glanced at each other. They thought they had done an excellent job covering up their slip-ups. Looking around the tent, each man and woman met their gaze, eye to eye, with no evasions.

"Now what?" Jase asked.

"We would like both of you to lead us," a statuesque brunette said, "the Old Way. We saw Casimir take his men and leave just before sunset. They are heading toward Jezebel's House. Unless their lookout spots them, there will be carnage before they expect it."

Ty shifted, anger rippling in the movement; he looked at Jase, "That cannot be allowed."

"Get your gear, those injured, make do as much as you can," Jase said, "we move out in fifteen minutes."

"Do we make a show of it?" Ty asked, looking at Jase.

"They want the Old Ways," Jase said, looking around at eager nods, "we give them the Old Ways. Is your shelter under trees or near the tree line?"

"Under trees," the ripple whispered.

"Then you need exercise to get rid of unused energy," Jase smiled, "we will meet in the large tree marking the exit point of this clearing. Only bring what is necessary, and we travel light. We need to either stop Casimir and his thugs, warn of their coming or join forces with those we pledged ourselves to many years ago. Either way, we level the field."

Everyone nodded before leaving the tent.

"It would appear the Guard has found its purpose again," Ty whispered.

"We need to hurry," Jase said, glancing around outside the tent, "I feel someone may try to stop us."

"I have all my weapons on me," Ty pulled his black hooded cloak aside, displaying his body dripping in every weapon he possessed.

"Looks like our instincts are the same," Jase mimicked Ty's movements, "let us move to the rendezvous point."

The two men moved to the tree next to the tent, quickly climbing into the branches. Carefully moving around the camp, stopping to assist some struggling to gain leverage onto the boughs above their tents. Silently they moved toward the rendezvous point, gathering like birds in the trees when everyone was present. Jase motioned for them to track Casimir into the night.

From a tent doorway, a pair of eyes watched them leave. Silently wishing them Godspeed and success. Being unable to help the wounded, having his actions forcibly contained left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"What do you see, Doctor?" the self-appointed leader asked.

"Nothing," he said, "all is quiet."

"What was the noise?"

"A few men in an argument," he said, turning, catching the fearfully gazes of his wife and children, bound and gagged, under the guard of two of the maniac's enforcers. "That is all it was."

"Do you lie?" the cunning, sneering face moved closer, staring at him.

Meeting his gaze with expressionless eyes, "No, I do not. If you would like to confirm my words, have a look."

"I do not enter the dark," he hissed, "my life will be taken should I do so. Now, come and see to my afflictions."

Glancing outside once more, he sighed, turning toward the self-absorbed man holding them prisoner. Perhaps one day, it will be over. In the morning? Tomorrow night? How he missed the Old Ways of honour, rules and accountability. Closing his eyes, sending a quick prayer for rescue and a chance to redeem himself. The excellent doctor attended the man who commanded death and destruction.