Vinara nodded her head once at Kelton's declaration. "What would you have of me, Answer?"

The idea of Juno's lashing still rode high atop Kelton's anger. He wanted to walk into a sea of white robes and release spiders-bite. He forced his mind to slow and allow clear thought to win over idiocy, burying his anger. It would be needed again, of that he was sure.

"I must think," Kelton said, sitting back down. He sifted through all he had read of past battles, of insurrections, and the ending of them. A mountain of information, some contradicting others. All demanding a structure not driven by vengeance, but of requirement. He needed time to build such a thing if it could be built at all.

"Word must be spread," Taggert said. He dropped to his knee and bowed his head to Kelton.

Kelton was shocked by the move. More stunned when Vinara struggled to her knee. All reverence he had seen in the past was derived by power, not respect. He was not intent on acquiring the first, and felt undeserving of the latter. He stood and helped Vinara to her feet.

"I have no desire to be revered," Kelton said, gesturing for Taggert to rise as well. "The tale is old and riddled with holes. I will use it as they have, but it is only words." He looked at Taggert. "The Goddess' light does not shine any brighter on me than another." Kelton was sure the broken world did not need another King, and he had no desire to be one.

"The tale demands a witness," Vinara said. "They have killed yours."

"It is only words," Kelton said, his hands still grasping hers. "They and I will twist them as we see fit. It is the listener who matters, not the teller." If King Victalica taught him anything, it was that power required that words be controlled. The Brotherhood failed to quell the story, their greatest weakness.

"Lies can be used as a blade," Vinara warned.

Kelton smiled as the obvious became known. Twisting tales was easier than he expected. "There is one who has seen both this day and the Choosing." He looked at Taggert. "One who has left himself from the story."

"My father begged my silence," Taggert said. "It was thought it would shield me."

"You were there?" Vinara asked Taggert, her brow lifting in surprise.

"Aye, it was my sister who was chosen," Taggert said. "And my mother hung in a tree." There was vengeance in his voice.

"Birthed from a cursed," Vinara said, as the idea grew in her eyes. She looked at Kelton, grasping his hands tighter as if they were of one mind. "Thus, cursed from birth."

"Aye," Kelton said. "And he tells all who will listen." He released Vinara's hands and placed his hand on Taggert's shoulder, his brother's shoulder. "I would have given my life to be cursed as you. I know not my mother, though yours taught me I would have cherished her."

"They were a day late in ending me," Taggert said. Determination filled his chest. "Live or die; I am your witness."

"I would prefer you to live, brother," Kelton said and released Taggert's shoulder.

"Again, I ask. What will you have of me?" Vinara asked, her hand absently caressing the cheek Kelton had kissed.

"Words, my lady," Kelton said. "What has happened here will cause many to do blind things. It must not be. All must act as one, or there will be many wasted deaths." Kelton paced in thought. "Truth and a call for patience. The time comes, but word of when is unknown." The idea of it was too monumental to conceive in one sitting. Creating time to turn sheep to wolves was most important. To do so without forfeiting lives seemed impossible. Weapons, food, wagons, and all other needs began to fill his mind. The task itself was beyond anything he had done before. His stomach growled and turned. He needed people he could trust, ones with means and minds.

"I will send word," Vinara said. "The Answer is here, and the Goddess demands all wait for his word. To do not, will leave one without her protection."

"Truth hidden in untruths," Kelton said, nodding his head in agreement. The Goddess, false or not, weighed heavily in this land. Another tale the Brotherhood had failed to control well.

"You can have an army in a moon's time," Taggert argued. "Many will come at your call. There is no reason to stall."

"Many reasons," Kelton said. "Unplanned, an army will be weaponless and starved to weakness. Untrained, they will fall at first encounter." He signed, thinking of all he had read in the library and learned in the Waitland. "I have been in the minds of the greatest of warriors, and know swift vengeance is doomed. The King's Men will be formidable, the Brotherhood worse." Sadness filled his eyes. "What I am about to do will end many. I wish the sum to be as low as I can make it. And I wish those ends not wasted."

"Hope will make many willing," Vinara said.

"Aye," Kelton agreed. Hope was his new curse, piled on top of all the others. He needed to find Gossamer, and Juno to slow his mind. And Rolic held knowledge Kelton must acquire. Only they could sort the thoughts rampaging his mind and perhaps lessen the burden. "I need time to gather others."

"Juno?" Vinara asked.

"May I have some water?" Kelton asked, not wanting to answer Vinara. He disliked when others saw through him. "And a moment alone to think." Taggert was the first to move, laying spiders-bite at his feet and exiting the room.

"Know that you are loved," Vinara whispered as she left. Kelton dropped his head at her words. He doubted he would still be loved when lives were laid to waste. His moment of declared vengeance could unleash a useless wave of death. He sat and wrapped his hands behind his head, pulling it to his knees and strained his muscles as he struggled not to scream at his stupidity.

"Your water, Answer," Sanlina said quietly, breaking Kelton from his self-loathing. His neck complained as he lifted his head. It had been held bent too long. He took the offered mug with a forced smile.

"I like your scars," Sanlina said. It was an odd statement that befuddled Kelton. He stopped mid-sip and looked at her. She smiled when their eyes met, then kneeled at his feet, bringing her head level with his. "All have waited your coming, me most of all." Kelton tensed when her hands found his knees. His body reacted, his mind retracted.

"I thank you for the water," Kelton said with diplomacy. Sanlina smiled, her hands drifting up his thighs.

"A moment's pleasure is what you need," Sanlina said, her voice like honeyed mead. "I can be the flower that softens the tasks that lay before you." She leaned forward, her scent teasing, her lips offering bliss.

Kelton recognized a skilled teller when he saw one. She had convinced his body with ease, pulled it into her tale with the simplest of effort. He knew she offered some truth; the promised bliss would be deftly delivered with passion. A moment that would ease his body, yet only a temporary break from what was to come. His soul desired something much more, and it was nearer than it had been in years.

"It is hard to deny such beauty," Kelton said. He smiled. "Forgive me, but I am foolish at times." He stood to detach from her persistent, enticing hands.

Sanlina laughed as she stood, her eyes a head lower than Kelton's. "A kiss then," she said, tapping her cheek as Vinara had. Kelton didn't understand why they found his lips soothing, but it was a simple task of kindness and pleased him as well, so he complied.

Sanlina turned at the last moment, her lips meeting his. Kelton stiffened as her hands cradled his neck and pulled him closer, her fingers caressing behind his ears. The pleasure of it drew him in, yet the lips were not the ones he desired. Sanlina's lips had a purpose, an insistence that begged him to join. The lips that he remembered didn't need to beg. They were a beautiful compromise, taking as much as they were given. The memory of Juno promised to be more than transient.

They broke, Sanlina leaning away with confusion, Kelton's stiffness well noted. Then her lips curled, and she pushed fully away. "Goddess, I hate her."

"My sorrows," Kelton said, not fully understanding.

"Now I hate her more," Sanlina said as she laughed. A strange thing to laugh and hate.

"It is not..."

"Do not," Sanlina said, her raised palm insistent. She looked down and shook her head. "I have made men forget their wives with ease." She shrugged and looked back at Kelton. "Yet kissing you...a rock holds more passion." Her chuckling confused Kelton more.

"My sorrows," Kelton repeated. "I am not good at such things."

Sanlina's eyebrows rose. "This Juno, you have been between her legs?" It was a question asked as if the response was obvious, and should be aye.

Kelton felt his face beginning to flush. He fought against it, once again wondering why others found such things important. The proper answer eluded him. Considering, much less talking, of such things was not comfortable.

Sanlina's face lost its humor. "Have you been between any legs?"

Kelton stiffened. "I have swung my blades with a hundred warriors, I have toppled houses and freed property." He didn't know why he insisted she knew. "There are those that breath now because of my muzzle. A young one lives because I grappled a beast who desired a meal. Is it not enough?" Kelton hadn't realized he was yelling.

Sanlina's face softened from predator to prey. "I meant nothing by it," she said. Her hand rose and caressed Kelton's scarred cheek. "I know little of what you say, yet I see truth in it." Her smile was soft, as Kelton always imagined his mother's would be. "When you see her, tell her you waited for her. If she does not melt into you, then I will truly hate her." She leaned upward and kissed his cheek before she turned and left.

Gossamer sat as Rolic read the missive. His heart was beating boldly, the pulses echoing in his ears. Rolic tilted the message away from the sun to cut the glare. It was short, yet like Gossamer, he was reading it more than once.

"He lives, and has returned," Rolic said. Then he smiled as he looked up at Gossamer.

"It did not say where," Gossamer said. He couldn't search all of Anagoria for him. Surely, the writer would have left a clue.

"It wasn't known at the writing," Rolic said. "I suspect this is one of many missives; the one sent on if he made land."

"Why is he such an interest? And why does the sender defer to you?" Gossamer was no longer satisfied with bits and pieces.

"Hope is always of interest," Rolic said. "Such things move mountains if properly steered."

"What is meant by the decision being in your hands? It is as if the sender leaves all to you, and yet, I sense his great power."

"Who are you, Gossamer?" Rolic parried. "Should we delve deeply into our pasts and trade all secrets? Your skill at reading is not newly taught; neither is your talent at deduction. Are we at that point of trust?"

"I worry over him," Gossamer said, shaking his head. Trust is something best bottled. "You now know something neither King nor Brotherhood knows. I only fear which way you will lean."

"If I wished Kelton hindered, I would have put a blade in you long ago," Rolic said, punctuating it with a chuckle. "And had you thought different of me, you would never have brought my missive." He leaned back. "I suspect I read this because you desire to know if I will play an active part. Our boy wishes to travel in silence, and yet we both know it will be too loud."

"Aye," Gossamer said. "The power you speak with could be of great help."

Rolic shook his head. "He has done he will. There are rules to this game, and he has already broken many."

"Rules, games," Gossamer grumbled to the earth. "It is Kelton's life I worry on." He looked up. "And if he seeks your help?"

"A decision must be made," Rolic said, his face losing all expression. "I leave it to our boy to decide." His smile returned. An odd thing that the man saw pleasure in the turmoil that will surely follow.

"He is no longer a boy," Gossamer said, accepting Rolic at his word. Not that he had a choice. The man knew much, a step between King, Brotherhood, and the world. "What is meant by 'he dances with two blades?" Words Gossamer only half-understood, a reference to fighting prowess he suspected.

"It means the Brotherhood may now fear him more than the story," Rolic said. "It seems the Nagada have embraced him, a thing I thought not possible." Rolic began tearing up the missive into smaller and smaller parts. "An Unseen Nagada loose in this world has not been planned for." His smile grew again, his pleasure evident to Gossamer. "It will be a grand surprise for one I know well."

"He is well trained then," Gossamer surmised. It gladdened his heart, for he had thought himself a weak trainer of the sword.

Rolic laughed. "If the words be true, Kelton is a storm and a mere Brother nothing but a sapling before him."

"Goddess," Gossamer exclaimed. It was more than he could ask for, more than he had dreamed. "It is a good thing, him returning with such skill."

"Do you not see a hand guiding him?" Rolic said, his eyes drifting to the sky. "There is a crack in the vase of this land, a boy who should not be, has returned as a man who can not be. It is as if a plan is in motion to shatter that vase."

Gossamer remained silent, his part in such a thing he knew well.

"Or many hands," Rolic said, reading into Gossamer's expression.

"Aye," Gossamer agreed. "I mean to find him."

Rolic shrugged. "You know where he goes. This Juno has brought him back, so find her, and thus him."

"And if he has need of you?" Gossamer asked again, with reluctance. Rolic bordered the realms and may be the bridge between survival and death for Kelton. Maybe he would supply Kelton with the means of escape. Rolic and the Seven could be a formidable tool.

"I will never thwart him," Rolic replied. He frowned. "Some know this, and mayhap, use it. A peril for him, one way or the other." After a pause. "Are you to speak with the Seven before you depart?"

"Aye," Gossamer replied. "Their help may be needed."

Rolic nodded. "I ask you to leave the 'decision' out of your words. Also, what you have learned about the meaning of the 'dance,' though speaking those words as written, will do no harm."

"Aye." For Kelton's sake, Gossamer would heed Rolic. There was no need to add to their enemies.

"Kelton's return?" Rolic said with an indifferent shrug. "I suspect the land will know of that soon enough - hope works in such ways. Best if they are forewarned."

Kelton stood and stretched, testing his wound. It glistened some if he pulled too hard. He would have to avoid stressing it for a day or two. Otherwise, it should be forgotten and disappear into its brethren in a short time. Just another mark from a world that refused to let him be.

He felt a gathering growing in front of the nighthouse—King's Men or others he could not discern. Intent was difficult at a distance, and was weakened without sight. He dressed, tunic then sheaths, spiders-bite finding their home. His cloak was nowhere to be seen. He remembered it being removed, yet not where it landed.

"They wait," Taggert said as he entered, his eyes brightening at a standing Kelton.

"Who?" Kelton asked, his guard lowering with Taggert's calmness.

"Many who wish to follow. They have no kin to worry on, so they come now. The others will join once they have settled theirs."

"Others?" Kelton asked. He looked around again as he picked up his pack. "Have you seen my cloak?"

"It is being mended," Taggert replied. "All know the Answer brings war. Such a thing requires an army. We are the start of it."

"It is not time," Kelton said, shaking his head.

Taggert smiled. "The war would be with you if you deny those outside."

"I mean to find others first," Kelton argued. "It will not be an easy walk on roads. I must avoid the King's Men and Brotherhood while I gather them." It would be easier to go alone.

"Most here have dodged the same their entire lives," Taggert said. "It would be foolish to ignore those who know the way of things in these parts."

"Aye," Kelton said with a sigh. It was a hard truth. And harder still that he will feel responsible for them. It felt too soon to assume such a thing. "I should have held my tongue, witness." The declaration was weighing heavy.

"All already knew," Taggert said. "Your way is hard, and all know it. Best if you let some carry part of it."

"You have much of your mother in you."

"And you have much of the Goddess in you as well," Taggert said. Kelton couldn't help but smile at the words. Truly, Joycelyn embodied the persona one would desire of a Goddess.

"Come, witness. Our army must be on its way before this village is sacked."

An army, twelve strong, stood before the nighthouse. With them, a mule laden with sacks and a barrel strapped to its back. Kelton was about to say something, a feeble attempt to discourage them, but Taggert took the lead.

"I saw the first to fall," Taggert began. "And I saw three breathe no more. My mother was cursed, and thus I have been so since birth. I am the Answer's witness."

"I, like many others, have seen the beast's marks upon his skin," Lagneer added. Many nodded at his remark. Kelton was surprised to see the bearded man join such an endeavor. He thought him more suited to a tavern than the woods. Maybe the land held more wolves than he first thought.

"It is an old story and brings fear to the Brethren," Kelton said, resigned to the inevitable. "Be it true, or be it false, I have claimed the title, for I desire to see white robes quiver in their beds." The cheer was not expected. He stood tall in the face of it, as he had seen the prince Victalica do in front of his men. A leader, weak or not, must never look so. Fear of what is to come must be swallowed.

"There are some in this land who know more than most, whose wisdom I require," Kelton continued. "I seek them now. The travel will be hard, and I will need guides to speed the way."

"I trap these lands, Answer," O'fan said, stepping forward. "There are trails who few know. The ways twist, but easier than forcing through the brush."

"I thought you had a wife, O'fan," Kelton said. Taggert was right; he needed these people.

"Aye, and she now travels with my brother and his family," O'fan said. "I gathered a kiss, so I am set for a season or two." That brought out a shared chuckle.

"It is a hard way," Kelton warned them all.

"Aye, and we are hard men," Lagneer said. "We will not cower from this." A chorus of agreement sunk deep into Kelton. He sensed they would die for him. Unworthy or not, the weight of it was both heartening and disheartening.

"Answer," Vinara said from the door. Kelton turned to see her holding his mended cloak, the stitching not unlike his wound. "The Goddess bless your travels," she said as she handed it to him.

"I thank you for all you have done, my lady," Kelton said with a bow of his head. She smiled an honest grin that removed years from her face.

Kelton turned to his army. "We must make haste."