A rock outcropping served as a natural perimeter for Ahod’s lair, where Canu’s men had been given instruction by a tavern boy as to where to find it. Canu had paid good coin, since the boy had been reluctant to give him the information. His anger had been kindled when he learned that Canu was responsible for the tavern fire the night previously. The boy’s uncle had been the innkeeper that night. Canu thought back to that night. He had tied Ahod’s men to the tables before lighting the tavern with torch and letting it burn down. The innkeeper himself had been branded by Ahod. Canu had seen it on his wrist.

Now they waited. Ahod had the girl—the Floweress. He had been on a personal hunt for the Floweress for months. Yesterday at the tavern was the first time Canu had seen her in person. He hadn’t even told Emonu of her, leading to his confusion when Canu could not take his eyes off her. Canu had wondered himself why he sought her so greatly. He did not have an immediate need of magical herbs or plants. He did not seek to court the Floweress—women had only proved to be a distraction from his work. Besides, his line of work would take a special kind of woman to remain by his side—and he had found that woman before and yet it always ended horribly. Canu shifted his thoughts, looking behind him to find his clan of thirteen men huddled behind him from his lookout spot. Ahod’s guards stood watch casually outside the crudely built fortress. It was two stories tall, made of timber and thatch. There was a wall of sharpened stakes enforcing a border around the perimeter, but it could easily be jumped. It was night and Canu’s men were no stranger to stealth.

The clans of Terragar had formed after a bloody era of war had left the nation a mess of family feuds, murders, betrayals, and spilled blood. Countless plains of orange sands turned to red from the blood spilled, but now nearly a century had passed and there was still no formalized leadership in place. Powerful lords owned plots of land, but their rule was over their localized region, and they had no formal power.

The mission at hand was one that Canu would treat with greater care than others. Ahod was no ordinary lord, but one of the odd sorcerers that had been becoming increasingly common in these southern regions. Their ways were dark and mysterious, and Canu had finally grown sick of throwing caution to the wind. He would claim the Floweress back at all costs. If he could get a hold of Ahod while he was at it, he certainly would. There was information that Ahod could give him that would be of value. Perhaps he could tell of his ties to the Chained One. The inventor of the dark magic called Ansik who was growing his network by the days through sorcerous servants like Ahod.

Canu’s men were huddled together behind an array of gray boulders which sat in a clump in one of the rare areas that grass was growing. The arid, desert-like climate of Terragar rarely allowed for vegetation. Their trade with neighboring southerners was their means for obtaining quantities of food. Canu spoke in hushed tones with Sigeric, the man who had jet black hair and a black bush for a beard. A light wind fluttered their gray cloaks out from behind them. The night air was chilling, but there were some traces of warmth that were carried by the wind. Winter was near, but there were still a few weeks of cool weather before the sandstorms would ravage the desert plains.

“You’re lack of discipline may cost us one day,” said Sigeric. He watched Ahod’s guards from his spot alongside Canu. The guards would soon become tired and wearisome, they hoped.

“Lack of discipline? I’d say it’s quite the opposite, friend,” replied Canu. He ran a hand through his long brown hair, pushing rough strands out of his face.

“We keep getting involved in these situations because of your ambition. This has no benefit to any of these men, and you know it, Canu.” Sigeric’s tone showed his irritation. Canu was breaking the unspoken agreement. Don’t involve the entire clan in a personal matter. Their endeavors were meant to be done within the scope of the benefit to the entire clan.

“It is for Emonu,” replied Canu.

“He is your friend, not ours,” said Sigeric.

“Are you not curious about this Floweress, Sigeric? She was Hyltir’s for years and no one could even lay an eye upon on her. Hyltir owned her, some have said.”

Sigeric nodded his head before pursing his lips. “Hyltir is still missing, is he?”

“He is. Some have said he went towards Mekdah, towards damnation,” said Canu. Sigeric shivered, not wanting to imagine the horrors of Mekdah. He thought of the great mountain range that divided these lands from Mekdah. No man journeyed to Mekdah in their right mind. There were great horrors there.

“Hyltir lost his mind then, surely,” said Sigeric, “And no wonder he couldn’t even force his Floweress to accompany him.”

“Well now Ahod has her,” said Canu. His eyes followed a new guard who stumbled out of Ahod’s fortress, likely drunk. He muttered some words to the two guards that were already outside. Their words were inaudible but the drunken man’s laughter filled the night air.

Canu glanced back at his men. Bored faces. Indifferent expressions. They didn’t ask too many questions before. They knew this was Canu’s mission and not their own. They had little interest in the Floweress, knowing that if she was obtained that Canu would not let any man have a second’s time with her. Canu was returning his gaze to Ahod’s lair when a light came on upstairs. There was a candle burning through the window.

“Aye! Caroman!” Canu lifted a whispered hush towards the row of men who lay against the boulders in front of them. Caroman’s silhouette worked his way up towards Canu. He was squatted down, careful not to be spotted by Ahod’s guards.

“Find out how many men are in there and where Ahod is hiding. See If you can get a look at the Floweress, too.” Canu gave Caroman a pat on the back as he shuffled back towards the pack of men. He clambered atop the rocks and disappeared into the night. Caroman was near-impossible to hear when he didn’t want to be seen. Canu had already lost sight of him as he disappeared over the outcropping of chipped rock and boulder towards the back of Ahod’s fortress. The small fortress had its back to a rugged hillside, preventing anyone from approaching from that side unless they worked their way down the steep hillside. That was exactly what Caroman setting out to do.

“This Floweress was a northerner, then?” asked Sigeric, changing topics. Seeing Canu’s look he continued, “A northerner—from the other side of the land bridge. Is the Floweress from the northern kingdoms across the sea?”

“Ah, yes, I believe she is. I spoke to a man who claims that she abandoned her master in the north and journeyed here in search of freedom. Floweress’s in those northern lands are used manipulated heavily because of their abilities, apparently,” said Canu.

“Magic is a funny thing. I don’t suppose it exists anymore. Only in stories,” said Sigeric.

“Depends how you define magic,” said Canu, defensively. “Magic is a funny term. Ansik is the dark sorcerous stuff that these odd men such as Ahod seem to be getting into.”

Sigeric gave him a stiff-armed shove, knocking Canu into plain sight of the guards.

“What was that?” demanded Canu. His face grew firm.

“That was magic,” chuckled Sigeric. “You see what I did? I used magic to shove the immovable Canu of Rulzan. Only a strength spurred by magic can move the immovable Canu.”

“You make a mockery of things you don’t understand,” replied Canu. “This Floweress may know things that can change our fortunes.”

“Change our fortunes? We don’t need more fortunes. We’re rich. Soon we’ll be throwing away extra gold because it is too heavy. We don’t even touch our silver.”

“So give it away,” replied Canu.

“Give it away? We’re not about charity. We worked for that coin, I don’t care if its bronze or silver,” said Sigeric.

A shout escaped from inside Ahod’s camp. Sigeric and Canu stiffened at the sound. Several shouts were raised. Was Caroman caught? Surely not, he was never seen. Unless…

Ramblings of laughter replaced all worries. “They’re drunk,” said Sigeric. “Their defenses are down, let’s go—now! Come on Canu, we mustn’t always be so cautious.” Sigeric withdrew his shortsword. The silver of his blade glinted in the moon light. Another of Canu’s men unsheathed his blade, grinning toothily. Canu motioned for him to sheath his weapon.

“We are not going in there on a whim. Caroman will be back soon,” said Canu.

“We don’t need Caroman to give us a number and a detailed sighting of the Floweress. She’s in there Canu, I guarantee it. What else would all the guards and defenses be for? Ahod doesn’t have plunder enough to sit back like this,” said Sigeric. He stared at Canu, waiting for a response. Canu was looking at Ahod’s lair with a focused look.

“They’re drunk, Canu. Come on,” Sigeric began to rise from his place.

“No,” said Canu sternly. Sigeric did not listen.

“Come on, boys,” said Sigeric. He did not whisper, but his voice somehow did not carry to the guards who were less than a hundred feet away.

Canu gripped Sigeric’s wrist, hard. Sigeric reeled away, gritting his teeth. His sword was still unsheathed, and he pointed its tip at Canu’s chest. Disputes were common among these men, but now was a poor time to start one.

“We go. Now.” Sigeric’s eyes had a dangerous glint to them. Silent as a cat, Caroman returned from along the rocks. He slithered down over the boulders and landed with impressive silence. His boots were leather and made no noise when he walked.

“Twenty men. Armed but drunk. Ahod is upstairs where that light is. From what I could see, he has the Floweress chained to his bed post and guards inside the room and outside. I cannot be sure it was the Floweress but she was blonde with hair to her shoulders—matching your description, Canu.”

“Very well,” said Canu. He took a deep breath through his nose, giving a final stare at Ahod’s lair.

“We go, right now Canu. It’s now or I’m turning back,” said Sigeric.

“There will be plunder, Sigeric. The Floweress is not the only thing we’re after.”

“Right,” replied a frustrated Sigeric. He was a strong man, whose sword skills were unmatched. He had an aggressive style, much different to Canu.

“Sigeric, take your men through the front. You’ll take ten men. I’ll take Caroman and Blivth, we climb and enter in through the upstairs. I want to catch them from both sides. You’ll work to secure the downstairs and we’ll take Ahod upstairs. I want to ask Ahod some questions before we kill him.”

“Are we leaving anyone alive?” asked the young man called Blivth.

“Just Ahod. I don’t care about the rest. These are bad men.” Canu gave a final nod to Sigeric, who signaled for the nine men to follow him towards the front gate. “Sigeric!” shouted Canu in a loud whisper.

Sigeric paused, “what?”

“Smart,” said Canu. Sigeric nodded, before leading his men slyly away from their hidden vantage point atop the rocks.

Canu knew of Ahod’s mysterious aura as of late. Whispers in the nearby towns and taverns had been of Ahod’s men growing in continually strange behavior. Ahod had been an insignificant plunderer, often being punished by his victim before anyone else could get to him. Yet now the number of men who served him had grown and no one ever saw Ahod—only his men could be seen in the town’s streets.

Canu led Caroman and Blivth to the right, whereas Sigeric led the larger group of men to the left to where the front of Ahod’s fortress sat guarded by shrewdly planted stakes and a couple of lazy guards. Canu signaled for Caroman to lead the way. He was the expert in secrecy, and Canu had learned much from Caroman. He was also insightful, his obversations went beyond anything than Canu had ever noticed. It was the type of man that any clan leader would be envious of.

The outline of the three men prancing underneath the moonlight was hardly noticeable against the looming rock that surrounded the stone fortress. It was one big building that sat in the mouth of the rocky mountainside. The inside of the lair went far back into the mountain like a cave. A chiseled lion roaring with its fangs was carved into posts on either side of the door frame. Canu wondered how long that had been there. Ahod did not seem the type to employ artisans for that sort of work.

There were multiple things that enticed Canu to siege Ahod’s fortress. The first was that he wanted the Floweress. He knew their price to be worth a fortune, and only wealthy lords and powerful men had ever acquired one. But now his need was desperate. Emonu was nearly dead, if not already. He knew of a Floweress’s healing capabilities, which had made them a commodity for men who lived high risk lives. Living in Terragar was a risk itself. Being one of the warring clans of Terragar meant the possibility of death or injury on any given day. Canu wanted a Floweress for himself, and now was the perfect time.

Caroman led the three men to where he had snuck off to already. He led them atop the roof of the stone building where the walls blended into rock and the building began to go underneath the mountainside and into the cave. They crouched behind a boulder, peering out atop the boulder. Two guards sat in conversation on the rocky part of the roof. They had swords in scabbards and their shields were sitting ten feet away, collecting dust. Their helmets sat on the roof as well. Their voices were muffled just enough by a slight wind that Canu, Caroman, and Blivth could not hear them. Caroman nodded his head towards the guards and lifted three fingers. Canu knit his eyebrows. He only saw two. Caroman gestured for him to look again, and then Canu saw it.

A third guard sat alone at the far end of the roof. He sharpened the edge of his dagger on flint. His helmet sat loosely on his head, with thick armor wrapped tightly over his broad shoulders. He was a bulky man, but somehow appeared for foolish for being fully dressed in armor as if prepared for a battle. The guards must have gone night after night without so much as a sighting of wolves. Canu chuckled to himself—Ahod must have stuck the imbeciles on the roof. Or, perhaps, all his men are imbeciles.

Canu wondered if Sigeric had approached the front yet. He had not heard any noise and he figured he would. Sigeric was not one for sneaky attacks and cute manueveurs. He would drive in with his sword raised and his face a mix of horror and rage. His scream could pierce an ear until it no longer worked. Canu had faced this bravado of Sigeric many times in private. Slamming wooden swords at each other until they could no longer raise their arms. Canu did not suspect Sigeric needed as many men with him as he had. He may have only needed himself unless the guards had archers. However, if the men on the roof were not armed with bow and arrow, Canu suspected none of them were. Bow and arrow was a northern invention, and the south made a point to stick to blades.

Canu felt his heart rate increase to a pulsating rhythm. He was sweating. His large bear fur that hung over his shoulders suddenly felt burdensome and hot. He had been tracking this Floweress called Eshna for weeks. The night in the tavern had been the night that he thought he’d finally gotten her. He could not believe his luck. After weeks of tracking Ahod and his men, he had not seen a glance of her. He had heard word from plenty of men about the places that they saw Eshna Fashud—the coveted Floweress. And here he finally was, just outside Ahod’s fortress. The location of Ahod’s fortress itself had not been an easy task. Caroman had gathered intel from one of his connections and sniffed their way to the location. Caroman seemed to know his way around any area as if it was his homeland. He was an asset to the clan, and Canu had always sought to protect him at all costs. He was no warrior, and so Canu kept him from the skirmishes as often as possible.

Caroman gave Canu the nod to advance. Canu looked to Blivth, whose face was pale with nerves and his knuckles white from the grip on his short sword. That was all he ever used. He was a short, skinny boy—no older than twenty. He had a jumpy way of fighting, using jabs and pokes rather than strokes. Canu liked him. He chuckled to himself at the sight of Blivth. His jitters would serve him well.

They attacked. There was no yelling nor screaming. And then Sigeric attacked. They must have coincidentally timed their attacks to perfection. Canu swiped a harsh blow to fumbling guard, who had no time to snag his blade before Canu’s sword tip sliced his throat wide open to reveal a rich gushing of crimson blood down his chest. The man who had been chatting with the slain guard was frozen in fear. He turned to run down the thatched roof and off the edge of the building, but he paused, seeing Sigeric and his men cutting down guards in the front. They had burst throat the stakes in the ground with ease and now their noise was drawing attention. More men were bursting out of the building now like ants out of an ant hill.

Good, thought Canu. Let them focus their attention to Sigeric.

The guard who pondered a great leap from the roof found himself yanked by the foot. Blivth had snatched the guards’ feet out from under him and dragged him back so that no men could see him. They did not want it known that they were approaching from the roof. Blivth jammed his short sword into the guard’s hamstring. Caroman was quick to cover a hand over his mouth and stuff cloth into it so that his screams were not heard down below or from inside. Canu glided across the rocky part of the roof towards the bulky guard who stood up in his battle-ready armor. He cocked back his sword to land a blow on Canu but he was far too slow. Canu wanted to laugh. He withdrew his dagger from his hip and sliced so quickly at the guard’s armpit that his hand dropped the sword that he was about to swing. The gash was deep, and it had found a gap in the armor. Canu kicked the heel of his boot at the bulky man’s face, bashing his helmet into face. The guard fell on his back. Canu knocked him cold with the butt of his dagger. Canu considered swiftly ending his life, but a part of him felt guilty. He made sure the guard was knocked cold and added another blow to the head with his boot just to be sure. Th guard would be groggy in the morning, but as least he would live.

Caroman gave a quiet whistle for the men to follow. There was a secret opening that Caroman had found earlier when he had wandered this way. Canu and Blivth scurried after Caroman. At the top of the of the roof where the chiseled rock that made up half of the roof met the mountain side, there was a piece of loose rock that could be wedged. Caroman looked to Canu, knowing his size and strength would be the best way to go about moving it. Canu gave a grunt as he lifted the rock. The rock was rolled away, and a narrow, chimney-like hole seemed to lead into Ahod’s lair. Peering down the hole, it seemed pitch black. Canu knew that meant there would be no light down there when they lowered into the building. Or at least he hoped. Canu gave one last listen to the sounds of swords dancing and blades scraping. He could hear Sigeric’s battle cries still. Canu wondered how many men Sigeric had slayed already.

“You go first,” said Canu. He was looking at Blivth, who seemed surprised.

“Why me?” asked Blivth. His face had regained some color finally but now it went flush again at Canu’s suggestion.

“You’re thin as a pencil. Just slide down, it’s not hard,” said Canu. Blivth peered down, hesitating. Caroman nudged Blivth aside. Caroman gave one quick glance and then glided down the hole, feet first. The hole went down nearly ten feet. When Caroman landed on his feet at the bottom there was a moment of silence. Canu and Blivth stared intently, unable to see.

“Come,” said Caroman. Blivth heaved a sigh of relief. Canu laughed, and then shoved Blivth towards the hole.

Blivth did not hesitate this time, sliding down with as much ease as Caroman. Canu forced his way down, but he was wider than the other two, so he had to push his way down with his cramped arms. He nearly got stuck twice—but both times he wiggled just enough to get himself down the hole a little farther until his feet found ground beneath him.

The lair was exactly what Canu had imagined when he pictured a hermit in hiding inside of a dank lair tucked away into the side of a mountain. It smelled odd and there was rats everywhere. The floor they had landed on was deserted. Broken pieces of wood and furniture littered the floor. Rats and small rodents munched on food that had been left out. A carcass sat against a wall. Its skeleton smiled back at them as they walked by it. Blivth shivered. The eyeholes of the skeleton seemed to be watching him as he walked by.

“So…what now?” asked Canu. He couldn’t find any more doors anywhere. It was abandoned. The walls were made of earth and dirt that had been packed in tightly. Tree roots and worms squirmed out of the walls. Canu watched a cluster of worms get tangled and then drop to the ground a wall beside him. He didn’t flinch. Critters never bothered him. Blivth was green in the face. He gagged.

Caroman was wiggling his sword at the walls, trying to find a hidden door. Canu sighed, wanting to tell Caroman that they had entered the wrong building. There was nothing here. Just as he finished that thought, Caroman had pried open a door that had been carved into the wall on the far side of the room. The door fell apart into a pile of dirt and sticks as soon as Caroman had finished prying it open. Light was streaming through the room now from the opening.

Caroman signaled Canu and Blivth to come have a look. Canu shoulder Blivth out of the way, drawing his sword as he approached the opening. The opening overlooked a five-foot drop. Below them was a labyrinth of tunnels with torches that littered the walls with light. There was an unnecessary number of torches that hung on the walls, oddly. Before them were three paths which all split off in different directions.

The sound of voices approaching from the middle tunnel brought the three intruders down on their stomachs to remain out of sight. Two of Ahod’s men came trotting into sight at the juncture where the three paths met into a small clearing.

“…and lord Ahod just told us to return to him with the report,” said one man.

The other was about to reply when he saw the giant hole in the wall up above.

“Do you see that—” the man was interrupted by a knife the size of a finger that embedded itself into his forehead. He was screaming, yanking the knife from his head. He became dizzy, stumbling over the other man who was in a daze himself.

Canu jumped down to the ground in front of the two men.

“Don’t yell. I’ll spare both of you…if he survives,” said Canu. The man’s head was gushing blood and he had finally lost consciousness, lying flat on the dirt. The ceiling overhead shook tremendously causing dust and dirt to rain down on their heads. Blivth and Caroman cautiously lowered themselves from the room they had entered in and came behind Canu.

“Who are you?” asked the man, his dying friend lying in his arms.

“I’ll ask the questions, thank you. Where’s your master?” asked Canu.

“What master? It is just us here,” the man replied hurriedly.

“Good one. I just killed two of your men and the rest of my clan is slaughtering Ahod’s men outside as we speak. I assume that is the report you and your friend were speaking of just now as I stopped you,” said Canu. “What’s your name?”

“My name? Its, erm…”

“Your name, fool! Friend, I’m here for Ahod, not you. I’m Canu, this is Caroman and Blivth,” Canu gestured to the men standing behind him. “Let go of your dying friend and answer me.”

“My name is Azmeth, sir.” Azmeth’s lip quivered. His brows were furrowed, and his bronze skin revealed the marking of Ahod on the flat of his hand.

“Very well, Azmeth. If you lead me to Ahod, I will see to it that you are spared. I will also have the Floweress heal your friend once she is in my possession.”

Azmeth’s demeanor changed. He started to laugh. Slowly at first and then all at once. Canu grit his teeth.

“What’s so funny?” Canu took another step towards Azmeth who didn’t seem to notice.

“You want the blonde woman? The Floweress?” Azmeth managed to ask between laughing. “Good luck with that, sir.”

“Just take me to your master, and I will spare you,” said Canu. Blivth bared his steel and stepped closer to Azmeth. His laughter had finally slowed.

“You really want me to take you to Ahod? He is in bad shape these days. Not a good man to barter with, I assure you, sir.”

“I’ve dealt with far worse. Off we go,” said Canu.

Azmeth led them down the middle passage that he had come from. It was not a long hall. Soon, they were led into a dingy room that was a crude representation of a throne room. Seated upon a throne seat with stolen plunder, gold, and coin stacked up to the ceiling behind him was Ahod. He sat with a chain that was cuffed to his arm, the other end leading to a figure that was hunched up by the corner. Blonde hair was tied in a messy braid along the back of her neck and stained, light blue robes were her attire.

There was only one-man standing guard beside Ahod, which Canu found odd. The three men entered the room and paused behind Azmeth, who bowed before Ahod and presented the three men. Ahod stared through black, beady eyes. He had a long beard that was black and twisty and ran down to his chest. His face gaunt and narrow. Bronze skin was stretched tight over a weathered face. A white, square hat sat over his bald head. Bags sat under his black eyes.

Canu gave a half-hearted bow. “Lord Ahod, the honor is mine.”

Ahod’s face twisted into an angry scowl. His guard kneeled and whispered into Ahod’s ear. Ahod sucked his teeth and then weakly rose from his throne seat.

“You break into my home and murder my men. And yet, you have the courtesy to bow? A mocking gesture, no doubt. Whatever you are here for it is clear you will kill innocent people for it. You must be sick,” said Ahod.

“Perhaps we should skip pleasantries then and get to the reason why I am here,” replied Canu. His jaw was clenched. Blivth noted a vein down the side of Canu’s head that was only there when he was angry. Ahod had not taken long to anger him.

“I would agree with you if I didn’t already know why you are here,” said Ahod.

“And why am I here?” asked Canu.

Ahod’s servant cupped a hand to Ahod’s ear again and whispered. He maintained one eye on the visitors as he did so. His hair was stringy and full of oil. Canu noted his pale skin and sickly complexion. He did not strike Canu as a local. He was not from here.

“You have been pursuing my prized possession for weeks now. And since you cannot buy it with honor, you would rather kill to have it. You are like me, but I have since changed,” said Ahod. His words were slurred, and he seemed close to falling asleep. His eye lids seemed heavy but somehow, he kept them open.

“It is not merely the girl I want. I want you too, Ahod,” said Canu. He withdrew his sword from its scabbard. Blivth and Caroman followed suit.

“Put the blades away, boys,” said Ahod, smirking. “That won’t be necessary.”

Canu did not listen. He began to walk down the aisle. To either side were chairs, trestles and stools that had been trashed or littered with gold and jewels. Azmeth shook his head, watching Canu and his men advance on Ahod. Ahod did not arise from his throne. Eshna remained huddled in the corner, but Ahod’s slimy servant moved over to a small pedestal that stood beside the throne chair. There was a glass case covering an item wrapped in cloth. Ahod’s servant licked his teeth at the sight of his hands removing the glass covering. Ahod held out a hand abruptly, stopping him from removing the cloth.

“Do you know what this is, Canu?” asked Ahod. Canu did not know that Ahod knew his name.

“What? Him?” he pointed at Ahod’s servant.

“That is my assistant. He brought me a great gift. A gift that your master is in search of even now. Hyltir, isn’t it? Your master?” Ahod’s voice had more life to it now. He sat up in his chair after being slouched.

“How do you know my master?”

“I know many things, Canu. It is because of this man, here,” Ahod pointed to his servant. “His name is Maziq.”

Canu’s blood froze. He had heard bone-chilling descriptions of the sort of work Maziq was involved with.

“You are in league with a bad man, Ahod. Let us slay him now. No man who emerges from Mekdah is a friend of God. Unless you, yourself, are no friend of God.”

“I have no friends, Canu. Only servants or enemies. Which are you?” asked Ahod. His black eyes were beginning to twinkle.

“I will spare you If you give me the Floweress. I could have your head sold for a high cost, Ahod. And his, too,” Canu pointed the tip of his blade at the pasty white man called Maziq. Maziq glinted his narrow eyes in an overly concerned fashion. He removed the glass covering. His fingers held the cloth tauntingly.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

“Give me the Floweress,” repeated Canu, approaching Ahod. He stood before Ahod now. Caroman and Blivth held their blades threateningly at Maziq.

“You know what people say about my name?” hissed Maziq. Canu glared firmly at Maziq. His blade was quivering in the air as it sat inches from Ahod’s face. “It sounds a lot like…magic.” Maziq flung the purple cloth off the small pedestal.

Canu stared confused at Maziq and then at the item that sat on the pedestal. It was a snake made of stone. Canu’s eyes widened in fear suddenly. He lowered his pointed sword. Ahod began laughing. Maziq’s body began to melt into a pile of black liquid on the floor. His clothes evaporated around him. The black ooze began to seep up the white pedestal and wrap itself around the snake made of stone. Blivth and Caroman stepped back. The snack came to life, creeping down the pedestal and hissing at Canu. Canu pointed his sword at the snake, backing off.

The snake slithered away, disappearing through a crack in the wall. Ahod continued to laugh. “Isn’t he great?” asked Ahod, clapping. Azmeth stood straight-faced, as if he saw nothing. Ahod laughed so hard that Canu thought the skin that strewn tightly over his skull was going to fall off. He shivered at the thought, having just seen it happen with Maziq.

The sound of men clambering, and shouting filled the room. Suddenly, Sigeric and the rest of the men charged into the room with swords raised. Sigeric led the way. He was in one of those enraged bouts. Ahod chuckled still, leaning back in his throne seat.

“You piece of scum,” said Sigeric. He strolled straight up to Ahod.

“Wait, Sigeric,” said Canu.

“No,” Sigeric pushed Canu’s hand away. “He’s a sick man. They’re all sick, Canu. There’s something dark here. I say we put it to the torch. All of it.” Sigeric flipped over a trestle with tons of gold plates all over it.

“You didn’t like the looks on the faces of my servants?” asked Ahod.

“No, and I don’t like yours either, puppet lord,” said Sigeric. He grasped Ahod while he sat on his throne and yanked him down to the ground. Ahod’s long white robes fluttered behind him as he toppled to the ground clumsily.

“Look at him Canu, he’s gone mad. Don’t you see?”

Canu had no words. His mind was still reeling in horror at what he had just witnessed. The way Maziq’s body had simply seemed to melt away in a black goo and then crawl up the white pedestal post. He had never seen a thing like it.

“The snake…he was just here…” began Canu.

“Snake? Canu, Ahod is useless to us. Kill him,” said Sigeric. Sigeric had his sword pointed at Ahod’s throat from his place on the ground. “Let us kill him and take the Floweress. We don’t need this worthless pile of dung following us around.”

“He has information, Sigeric,” said Canu calmly and quietly.

“Information of what? We have the Floweress,” Sigeric shouted.

“You are a servant, Sigeric. Canu is your master, you must listen,” said Ahod.

“Shut up, you live in a dirt hole with a pile of worms as your slaves,” said Sigeric.

“If you don’t kill me, you are a craven, Sigeric. A craven!”

“I am not—”

“A craven!” shouted Ahod. Spittle flew from his mouth. His eyes were crazed.

“Sigeric, don’t!” shouted Canu. Caroman tried to stop him but couldn’t.

Sigeric thrust his blade through Ahod’s stomach. The blade got caught, but Sigeric thrust it further until the hilt of his blade was touching Ahod’s stomach. Sigeric’s face was just before Ahod’s.

“Am I still craven, lord Ahod?”