Black Hart

To Kill A King

Chapter 25 - An Honour and a Privilege

Bermen stepped back down to the next floor. He half-ran, half-flung himself, leaping the final stairs and burst through the trap door into the room. It was some sort of bedchamber, sparsely decorated and simple.
In the middle of the open floorspace, spread-eagled across a magic circle similar to the one from Axewood, the King lay staked to the floor by his arms and legs.
He squirmed and writhed, his contorted face betraying agony. About his head there was a dark vomit an he arched his back, tensing all his muscles before relaxing, falling flat to the floor.
He did not move.
There was a single door leading from this room, and on each of the four walls a shuttered window. Bermen could hear movement outside the door.
Bermen kept repeating the last words that Lominstrall had uttered to himself.
"'The black heart can only be overcome by the master of the hunt. Blood for blood, he can be saved.' What the bloody Hell does all that mean? He wouldn't have been joking surely. Riddle-making isn't the sort of thing people go in for in their dying moments."
He found himself staring indecisively at the King.
"What is all that stuff painted on the floor."
Now it came to it Bermen really didn't know what to do.
"If I touch him I could kill him. If he isn't already dead, that is. And if I don't do anything then he could die too."
The mild gloom inside the windmill decided his next move.
"If there's some magical bugger through that door then it won't do any harm to throw some light on the situation."
Bermen moved to the shuttered window opposite the door and opened it cautiously. "Hell, maybe Tumbry's still floating around outside," he thought. "Maybe Aranon can
climb up if I can find some rope. He might know what all this crap on the floor is."

************************

From within, Jean-Paul heard the woman shout.
"The Olidamarran priest and his friends. They followed the trail of the man who abducted that lord, to the east, towards Harga's windmill."
He heard another door slamming shut within the house and there was silence.
Looking east, Jean-Paul saw no windmill within sight, but a dusty trail led towards the fields, leading to a small hill a couple of miles away.
Jean-Paul thought for a moment.
"Olidamarran priest - that could only be Aranon. By Heironeous, all may not be lost yet!"
He quickly mounted his horse heartened by this news and sped off down the dusty trail towards the windmill and his comrades at arms. He rode out of the village, continuing across the fields by this track.
Although he did not have the skills of a tracker, he could see the dust cloud at the top of the hill as though someone had recently ridden there.
As he reached the brow of the hill, Jean-Paul pulled the mount's reins to bring it to a halt. To the south-east, on a small hill about two miles away a windmill stood, its sails turning slowly in the light winds of that morn.
Just below the sails, by a door there, Jean-Paul could see two horses, unaccompanied, their heads to the ground as though grazing. Something caught his eye above the windmill and he saw something large descending on the other side, passing out of sight before he could get a better look at what it was.
As Jean-Paul spurred on his mount, he saw another horse come around the windmill, headed back in his direction. After a few hundred yards the rider seemed to notice Jean-Paul heading towards him, and changed his direction to ride south.
Something flew up from behind the windmill and headed south towards the rider. Squinting his eyes in the morning sun, Jean-Paul reckoned that the flying creature was Tumbry, but could not make out the rider for dust.
He pursued the figure heading south.
As Jean-Paul grew closer, he saw that the flying figure was indeed Tumbry, and he
was falling behind quickly as the other rider, now in front of him, grew closer. For a second Jean-Paul saw the other rider's face, and realised it was Sholin.
Suddenly, Sholin's horse spurted forward, and as it drew close to the other, Jean-Paul could see who was being pursued! He did not recognise him, but from the descriptions it could only be Shabass T'Lan!
As he drew near, Sholin stood up on the saddle, and leapt at Shabass. They collided, and both men fell to the ground on the other side, a cloud of dust flying up from the dry field.
When the dust cleared, Jean-Paul saw Shabass T'Lan rising to his feet, but Sholin lay unmoving on the ground.
Jean-Paul drew his sword as he spurred his mount towards Shabass. He readied his blade to deliver a hefty blow.

************************

"Well!" announced Eloi "As we may be here for some time we may as well make the most of it."
He grappled for his backpack and fumbled about inside for a few moments. His hand grasped a familiar shape and he drew it from the backpack.
"Ah, I was keeping this for a quiet moment and now would seem appropriate. Some brandy that I borrowed from Axewood Palace." he opened the bottle and swallowed a large mouthful of the brandy.
"That's much better," he sighed. "Akhan, have a swig."
He passed the bottle in the general direction that he thought Akhan was in.
"Oh, get that foul stuff out of my way!" Mordekei moaned as he returned to the group, now wary of the folly of his attempts to leave the woods. Eloi gathered it was his head that he had stuck the bottle into rather than the panting Akhan's. He passed it over to Akhan, who fumbled with it, then managed to get some to his mouth. Several glugs and a huge rift later, he passed the substantially lighter bottle back to Eloi.
"Cheers, my man!" he said, rather triumphantly. As Eloi took another slug, Mordekei grabbed his arm, almost causing him to drop the bottle.
"Wait!" the mage said rather excitedly. "I have an idea - what about those door things you hid the King in when he was dying. Could we hide safely in there?"
Eloi stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"I had though of that, but did not think it wise. When we are inside the doors we are shut off from the outside world. We have no way of knowing when Jean-Paul returns. Also we do not know how long it will take for our eyesight to return. Still, it may not be too bad an idea. The girls in the harem will be entertaining for a few hours. A good shag might do you the world of good Mordy. I know it'll do me good.".
Eloi reached into his underpants and drew out the doors. He found a nearby tree and unrolled the doors onto it. He whispered the magic words so that the others could not hear and unlocked the door.
He called, "Follow my voice the doors are open."
He waited until the others fumbled over and were in the doors and then entered himself.
He called out, "I'm home, hey I am in need of some assistance here!".
Akhan followed Eloi from the sound of his voice towards the Doors chortling with amusement.
"What a fishwife you are Eloi! Imagine thinking that the Countess would be shacked up with me. Just because you once see me talking to her in a carriage, you get the idea I've scored another notch on the bedpost. Heeee..," he spluttered. "Any other figures from the Oerth's royalty I'm shagging at the moment? Not that I'd kick the countess out of bed you understand," he said making appreciative "Mmm-mmhhh" noises.
"What is this place anyway?" Akhan said feeling more than a bit. "This how you saved the King then? Spirited him into a magical whorehouse? Very nice I must say - well from the conceptual side of things, that is. Not that I can see what this place looks like at all. Are you going to shut the doors or are we going to invite the Dragon in too?" Akhan laughed while fumbling to find the door handle.
"You inside Mordekei?" he asked. "Wouldn't like to leave you in the dark"
He gave a dirty laugh not intended to reassure the mage at all.
The memory of floating blindly above his poisonous smoke cloud was very fresh. Still, he waited until he was sure Mordekei was inside and then shut the Doors behind them all.
Finding a convenient piece of floor under his feet, Akhan proceeded to curl up beside Ash and close his eyes.
"Think I'll take a nap," he mumbled.
Eloi laughed at Akhan.
"You don't need to sleep on the floor. There are beds here along with drink, food, women and cards. Not necessarily in that order."
He heard others within the room now, and imagined it was the servants.
"Now," he said, with an element of glee in his voice. "Lock the door, and lead us through to the tavern…"

************************

As Bermen opened the door, he almost jumped as Tumbry was standing on the other side. He had a fresh mark on his face as though he had just been hit.
"A Suel just ran from here - didn't fancy my sword skill, so he jumped down, clobbered Sholin and rode off on his horse."
Looking out, Bermen could see it was a large balcony on the other side of the door, about 30 feet above the ground. A shout came up from below.
"That was Shabass T'Lan!" Sholin screamed out. "Where are the horses?" Tumbry looked into the room beyond Bermen.
"The King!" he gasped.
Bermen looked around and saw that he had stopped moving.
"Shite!" Bermen cursed. Leaning over the balcony he shouted down to
Sholin, "They must have run off. Check inside and see if Aranon's OK - he should be in there still. The King's up here." He turned round and said to Tumbry, "See if you can find some rope lying around here so the others can climb up. Lominstrall blocked the stairs with a spell." He then hurried over to the side of the King and examined him to see if he was still breathing.
Suddenly making up his mind, he decided to remove the stakes which held the King to the floor.
Speaking aloud to Tumbry as the bard rummaged around, Bermen said, "I don't know what on Oerth all these magical sigils and signs are Tumbry, and I definitely don't think it bodes well. Lominstrall said something weird just before he died. First he said, 'The black heart can only be overcome by the master of the hunt,' and then, `Blood for blood, he can be saved,' which I think means something about how the King can be saved. Have you heard of any of these names?"
Bermen broke off, worrying about what to do with the King. He fervently hoped Aranon was alright. He needed the priests knowledge of arcane matters like this.
As Bermen shouted down, Sholin ran off, sprinting at phenomenal speed,
around the windmill towards the front.
Tumbry followed Bermen inside, and both men tenderly leaned over the prostrate King. They held their breaths in silence, and listened for his breath. Neither could hear any, and the King's chest did not rise.
Bermen placed his ear against the King's chest. Nothing!
As he released the bindings tying him to the stake, Bermen's mind raced.
Where was Aranon? What could be done?
Suddenly he heard footsteps rising up the stairs. Both he and Tumbry took hold of their swords at the same time.
"Your handiwork I presume?" said Aranon as he poked his head through the trap door, pointing back downstairs.
Looking at the King, Aranon suddenly fell silent.
Rushing over, he said, "What happened?"
Bermen quickly described the fit which the King had been having when he arrived. He stepped back to give Aranon more room as the cleric knelt to examine him.
There was a crunch. Bermen stepped back again, and examined the broken glass vial which lay underfoot.
"Poison?" Tumbry said.
"Sounds like it!" Aranon declared.
The priest cracked his knuckles and took hold of his Holy Symbol, then began muttering an arcane prayer, and they knew he was casting a spell.
Aranon stopped, and the King gasped for air, lurching upright , then coughing a mouthful of black phlegm from his mouth.
He drew a long, grateful breath.
After a second, he glanced around looking straight past them all.
"Who, who is there? Where am I?"
"Your Majesty," Bermen said stiffly. "You have been attacked by a foul assassin and Aranon Silverlief has just revived you. You should be safe now. Can you remember ought of what has happened to you? Your erstwhile Chamberlain Lominstrall betrayed you and we have strong evidence that Count Fimuth was in league with him and the Scarlet Brotherhood bastard who brought you to this windmill."
Bermen was unsure how to go on. He was afraid of babbling in front of the King and looked at Aranon for support. As he looked further at the King though, something seemed curious about the way he was looking past them and he said, "Forgive us sire, we must consult on our course of action. Tumbry here will attend you," he said, looking at Tumbry with raised eyebrows to check he was agreed with that.
Bermen drew Aranon aside.
"What now? That foul bugger of a Brotherhood assassin is escaping. I think Sholin's pursuing him but I don't like leaving it all to him. But then, we've got to protect the King too! I think I should take the remaining horse and join the pursuit with Sholin while you remain with the King. What say you? Oh, before I forget, I should tell you Lominstrall's last words. He offered to tell me how to save the King in return for his life. Turned out he was trying to trick me and I had to stick him to save myself. But, his last words were..." Here Bermen frowned in concentration to repeat them exactly. "`The Black Heart can only be overcome by the Master of the Hunt. Blood for blood, he can be saved.' Does that mean anything to you? Maybe there's something more than poison wrong with the King..."
Bermen shook his head. "This is all beside the point - Sholin needs my help. You'd best stay here for now. I'll see if I can get some horses or help of any kind if the trail runs cold. Anything to add?"
Bermen was quickly checking his gear before heading downstairs where he presumed Aranon had found a way through Lominstrall's brick wall (or it had disappeared). It'd be a damn shame if he couldn't catch this Suel once and for all...
Aranon nodded at Bermen's suggested course of action.
"I agree my friend. You and Tumbry go after the Suel. I will tend to the King."
With that, Bermen ran down the stairs, past Lominstrall's lifeless corpse, and where the magical wall had been, and back to the ground floor. As he turned the handle on the front door and opened it, noticing that his horse remained outside, he heard a noise.
Turning, Bermen heard movement from behind a pile of empty sacks in the corner of the room, barely audible over the turning machinery of the windmill.
One of the sacks moved slightly.
Bermen's hand moved automatically to the hilt of his sword. Despite his eagerness to be off after the Suel, he drew the blade quietly and walked over to the sack.
"Probably just a bloody rat," he thought to himself, irritated at the delay.
The ranger carefully used the tip of Gottflinder to move the sack out of the way.
As the sack tumbled to the floor, a head emerged from the pile. It was a boy's head, his hair matted with blood and his mouth gagged.
Quickly, Bermen pulled aside the other sacks, and saw that the boy was tightly bound. As he removed the gag, the boy gasped for air, then fell silent, staring at Gottflinder.
Outside, some distance away, Bermen heard a yell.
"I won't harm you lad," Bermen said reassuringly.
He propped the boy up and moved quickly to the door to try and see what the shout had been about.
Speaking still to the frightened boy as he scanned the situation outside he said, "There are some enemies of the King who just tried to kill him. No doubt it was they who tied you up. You should be safe now."
With those words, he ran out towards the ongoing melee.

************************

It seemed almost unfair as Jean-Paul closed on Shabass, and at the last possible moment he yelled out his war-cry.
"D'Appignon!"
The Suel's eyes widened in horror as he managed the slightest of glances over his shoulder at the oncoming paladin in full charge. In the next second he was thrown back to the ground in a cloud of dust, blood spurting from the deep shoulder wound left by Jean-Paul's blade.
The horses momentum carried him past, and when he managed to stop and turn it, Shabass had again regained his feet. His face was wincing in agony as he straightened and, weaponless, assumed a fighting stance as the paladin turned back towards him.
Jean-Paul cantered his horse towards T'Lan his sword pointed at the injured Suel
"You are defeated Shabass. Yield or I shall be forced to kill you for your crimes against Keoland."
The words had barely left Jean-Paul's mouth when the Suel was running towards him at great speed. Jean-Paul spurred on the horse, and prepared to strike Shabass.
Incredibly, before he knew it the Suel was in mid-air, sailing towards him with a leg outstretched in a flying kick, the likes of which Jean-Paul had never seen before. As the foot clattered off his armour he felt nothing but the slightest of impacts, and drove his sword towards him. As Shabass fell to the ground, he felt his sword tear through flesh.
Turning quickly, the Suel was on his feet, preparing for another attack. Through his brown robe, Jean-Paul could see the blood flowing from his side where he had cut him. Shabass looked to be very badly wounded.
Jean-Paul sighed, "Save his soul," as he again spurred his horse towards Shabass with his sword raised to strike.
As Jean-Paul rode towards the Suel, he produced a baton from within the folds of his robe, and swung wildly at the knight. There was a clanging noise within his armour, but Jean-Paul carried through his thrust, and felt the entire weight of the Suel come onto his sword for a few seconds before slipping off.
Turning his horse, Jean-Paul saw the Suel lying in the dirt, staring down at the gaping, bloody hole that was his stomach.
He turned, with a bewildered look, towards Jean-Paul, then collapsed to the ground. There was a noise behind him, and Jean-Paul turned as Tumbry landed on the ground behind him. The bard, sword drawn, walked cautiously over to the Suel, and for a heartbeat.
He turned to Jean-Paul.
"He's dead, Jean-Paul. Bermen was shouting, I think he wanted him alive. Lominstrall's dead too, and they tried to poison the King or something, but Aranon saved him."
Jean-Paul looked up to the windmill, where he saw Bermen running towards him.
There was a groaning noise, and Sholin, whom they had forgotten, began to pick himself out of the dust. With a quizzical look, he pointed to Shabass T'Lan.
"Was that me?" he asked.
Tumbry laughed. and was still laughing a few seconds later when Bermen arrived, puffing and panting. He looked rather dismayed when he saw the mess of Shabass T'Lan was in.
Jean-Paul looked at Bermen and shrugged in the general direction of Shabass.
"I asked him to yield, but he would not. I did not have an option, but to kill him. Now that these two are dead we have only one other matter to tie up, Count Fimuth. We should return to Axewood with the King and turn our attentions to Fimuth."
He smiled grimly.
"But, first we should return to the site of the attack on the King's carriage. Mordekei, Akhan and Eloi were all blinded by some sort of shadow dragon. We should return and recover them.
"That is grave news indeed about the others being blinded. But it has not been in vain - we managed to save the King and Aranon is tending him inside the windmill," Bermen said, nodding back at the building.
He walked over to the remains of the assassin and he in turn shrugged.
"Would've happened sooner or later I guess. Oh and Lominstrall's dead too," he said over his shoulder to the paladin. Then he knelt down by the Suel.
"I already told him," Tumbry said to Bermen as he stooped by the dead Suel.
"There's been a lot of surprises all round since we began this search for assassins. So, it shouldn't be entirely shocking if there was still more to unravel here. Lominstrall had some strange things to say before he died Jean-Paul: I'll fill you in shortly. But for now I'll search this piece of dirt and see what sort of story his belongings may tell..."
The ranger began to examine the Suel thoroughly. First he looked at his garments and footwear to try and glean any significant scrap of information. Then he searched through them for any items which could shed some further light on the conspiracy. He did all this with not a little distaste and gingerly too.
"Don't know what he's got up his sleeves."
As Bermen went to touch the Suel, Sholin placed the haft of his spear between him and the corpse. As Bermen looked up for an explanation, he twirled the curved spear about, then planted its point deep into the Suel's neck. Everyone looked at Sholin in puzzlement.
"We monks are taught," he explained, "How to slow our heartbeats, shallow our breathing, so as to appear dead. Just making sure my friends!"
He allowed himself an uncharacteristic smile, then stepped back to allow Bermen to continue his blood-splattered search.
Thankfully Shabass T'Lan appeared to be a man of meagre means, and before long Bermen had laid out all his belongings before him. Aside from the jo stick he had used against Jean-Paul, there was a sling and some sling bullets, a strange potion that changed colours every few seconds, a scroll of some sort , a fine red silk headband and a pouch full of coloured chalks.
That and a holy symbol the same as had been found on the ratman at the palace - a mummified hand that Bermen could not bring himself about to touch.
"Come on. Let's go see Aranon and the King. We're going to have to get him to safety and look after Mord and that back at the carriage." As they started to walk over to the windmill, Bermen said to Jean-Paul "Nice sword action by the way. Remind me never to piss you off when you're sitting on a horse... I think we should take the body of this Shabass T'Lan with us you know. With all this devil-summoning the bugger might even get himself resurrected."
"Which way do you favour we take the King though? Back to Niole Dra could be safer to avoid that Shadow dragon if it's still around. But we need to send some of us back for the others?"
Jean-Paul answered Bermen "Thank you for your kind words. I would have rather taken him alive, but as we may have expected he would rather die than become our prisoner. As to the King, I think we should ask him where he wishes to go and then do as he bids. I am however, eager to return to Eloi and the others. I fear my decision to abandon them did not go down to well. Perhaps they will forgive me when they know of these events. I will return to where I left them, joined by Tumbry if he would be so kind to give me his company. We shall return to the windmill as soon as we are able and we may decide our next step there."
Jean-Paul looked towards Tumbry.
"Will you join me?" he asked.
With a nod, Tumbry rose into the air until he was level with Jean-Paul, who was mounting his horse. When comfortable again, he spurred on the horse back towards the woods and, using Tumbry's superior viewpoint, they took a direct line back towards the woods. Bermen gathered the items together using the tip of his sword, and placed them inside his backpack. Sholin led over both horses, whom he seemed to catch surprisingly quickly, then they both walked slowly back to the windmill. As they arrived, Aranon was walking the King, still somewhat unsteady on his feet, down the stairs.
"Look, I'm alright now, damned interfering bastards!" the King exclaimed.
Bermen could sense that he was still unable to see, and less than happy with that fact.
The bound boy with the head injury stared at them all in a bewildered fashion.
Bermen walked over to join Aranon. Taking him aside he told him what had happened with Shabass T'Lan and said "I think we should go back to Axewood. The King looks very rough and it wouldn't do for us to go parading him through Niole Dra in this condition."
"Come on, let's get everyone mounted and head after Jean-Paul." Bermen and Sholin readied the animals and then returned to the King. "Sire, we are going to return you to Axewood. I think it would be better to stay away from Niole Dra just now"
Aranon shook his head at Bermen's suggestion.
"We are less than half a day's ride from the capital," he pointed out. "And it would take over a day to Axewood. We need security as soon as possible, Shabass T'Lan may have allies."
Sholin agreed.
"We know not how many others there are, or where this dragon of Mordekei's has gotten to."
"You know the situation, Major," Aranon stated. "Thoggin may have appropriated help for us by now, but he also may not! We could rest up in that village, or press on to Niole Dra. Or we could send someone on to get help there. What say you, major?"
"You're probably right Aranon. But it'd be useful to be able to leave a message for Jean-Paul and the rest when they return here."
The ranger walked over to where the boy was still lying, bound up. He carefully removed the bonds and clapped him on the shoulder.
"You've had a lucky escape here lad. But you're out of harm's way now and you can do your King a service and earn a small reward if you'll pass on a message for us. Mayhap you saw the paladin arrive a few moments ago? When he returns, tell him we are going to Niole Dra. Got that?"
Bermen made sure the boy had remembered the message before continuing.
"Tell the paladin that I promised you a silver piece if you delivered the message
Bermen strode back to Aranon.
"Let's make for Niole Dra now. Before anyone else decides to poke their noses in. That village wouldn't be very defensible."
Turning aside he spoke more loudly to include the rest.
"Let's saddle up and get moving. We can reach the city before sun-down if we make good time."
So saying, he got Sholin and Aranon to help the King onto his horse, sitting pillion behind him. After the others mounted up, they set off for the safety of Niole Dra.
"If the rest have any sense they'll find us wherever we are in the city," he commented.

************************

A sense of foreboding verging on guilt crept into the paladin's mind the closer they rode, and as they reached the road near to where the had left them he half expected to find them lying slaughtered in the bushes.
Worse, he could find no sign of them at all!
Then Tumbry spotted something - on one of the larger trees, a set of ornate golden doors had appeared, identical to the ones that had appeared in the Count's room back in Axewood Palace, the night of the summoning.
"Withered beldams!" Tumbry declared. "What is that?"
"I have seen this before at Axewood Place." Jean-Paul replied. "Good old Eloi, his favourite trick has worked once again. It is some sort of magical portal which takes Eloi to some sort of house. Perhaps we should knock and see if anyone is in? Keep an eye open though the dragon may still be in the vicinity."
Jean-Paul walked over to the Doors and loudly knocked upon them. He waited and waited, and there was no reply.

************************

After about a half hour's carousing, during which time Mordekei whinged and moaned incessantly, one of the servants came up to Eloi.
"Master, there is a knock at the front door!" he stated matter-of-factly.
"Hmmm!" pondered Eloi "Wonder who that could be? Could be Jean-Paul returned to help us or it could be Lominstrall or that dragon thingy intent on doing harm. I can't see, go and get a few sturdy and relatively sober gents from the bar and answer the door. If it is a poofy paladin with a whining voice let him in. if not close the door quickly."
He looked quizzically towards where he heard the servant and then waved him off with his hand
"Go, go do as I bade."
The butler turned, unseen by the trio, and left the room to his task.

************************

He looked over at Tumbry.
"If Eloi cannot hear us, then I fear we may be in for a long wait. he will undoubtedly on come out when he thinks it is safe or his sight returns. Can you see any sign of that infernal dragon?"
As Jean-Paul waited, he heard a noise from the north. It sounded like many horses being ridden towards them down the road.
He instinctively crouched, and Tumbry followed suit.
Within a minute, several horsemen, all dressed in uniform, cantered into view, and began examining the scene about the King's carriage. A few seconds later another man rode into sight, an officer from his garb, and began shouting orders to the men. He seemed to be tasking them to search the area for the King.
Suddenly Jean-Paul recognised him, from a brief meeting at Axewood Palace, as an acquaintance of Hamman's, a Lieutenant Harbes if he recalled correctly.
Before he could react, he felt the ornate door beside him open, and stared into the gloom beyond the door, where a man who looked like a butler was standing, just inside.
"Pardon me for asking, sire," the man said. "But would you be the poofy paladin with a whining voice?"
Jean-Paul swithered.
"Tumbry, call to Lieutenant Harbes. Advise him that the King is safe and that Lominstrall and his acquaintances are dead. tell them to hold here and we shall take them to the king shortly."
Jean-Paul turned to the butler.
"Yes, I am a Paladin, but I am neither gay, nor is my voice whiny. I am looking for my friend and colleague master Eloi Brand. Is he in?"
As Tumbry shouted to the horsemen, the butler beckoned Jean-Paul inside.
"My master bid me to let you in, sire."
He led Jean-Paul through an entrance hall to one of many doors. Opening it, Jean-Paul stepped through into a veritable tavern, filled with the usual type that frequented such a place, plus the obviously still blind Akhan, Eloi and Mordekei.
"The poofy paladin with a whining voice, m'Lord!" the butler announced.
Jean-Paul looked at the trio.
"You sadly look no better than when I left you. I have much to tell you. Firstly, the king is saved. I am sure that you are all heartened by this news. Secondly, Lominstrall and Shabass T'Lan are both dead. Again, I am sure your hearts are glad at this news. We should return to the others and take the king to safety and also try to find some cure for your blindness."
Eloi clapped his hands together at the news.
"Thank feck the king is saved. Thoggin would've 'ad me balls if anything had happened to him. I have mixed reactions to the deaths of Lominstrall and T'Lan. I would have preferred it to be my hands which did the deed. Still, it would appear that we have saved the king again."
He turned and looked towards where he assumed the others were sitting.
"Best, we leave here now under Jean-Paul's guidance. I am sure that I have a rope here that if we tied ourselves together, Jean-Paul could lead us, so we don't get lost."
Eloi fumbled in his pack and brought out his rope, he blindly held out the rope towards Jean-Paul, vaguely hoping that he was at least pointing in the right direction.
Jean-Paul took the rope from Eloi and tied it around the waist of the threesome. He then took the free end and gently tugged on it spurring the group into action.
"Follow me," he called as he led them out of the Doors.
Once outside Eloi, found his key and, with Jean-Paul's assistance, locked the Doors and rolled them up, inserting them in his underpants.
As Eloi adjusted his underpants, Tumbry led Lieutenant Harbes, now looking much better than before, over to Jean-Paul. The soldier smiled.
"Well done, sir knight. My man here tells me all is well with the King. Lord Thoggin sent us on as an advanced party and we will escort you all safely back to the capital. I have sent some men back for your horses."
Jean-Paul could see that the other troops were checking the soldiers who had fallen in the ambush for survivors. It quickly became apparent that there were none.
Within ten minutes, Harbes had arranged a guard of twenty cavalrymen, and the party were once more off, headed for the windmill, guided on a direct course by Tumbry's flight. The journey was unpleasant for the three blind ones, whose mounts were led by one of Harbes' men.
Within another ten minutes they were at the windmill. Shabass T'Lan still lay in the field where Jean-Paul had slain him, and there was no sign of Bermen, Aranon or Sholin's mounts! In fact there was no sign of Bermen, Aranon or Sholin.
"Is that Shabass T'Lan over there?" Akhan asked, squinting his eyes as tightly as he could.
He pointed over to where the monk lay, and started to feel a rush of strength enter his body.
"I think that whatever is starting to wear off!" he declared, his usual grin of cheesiness returning to his face.
Eloi stared straight into the nearest horse's arse and said, "Good!"
Jean-Paul dismounted, drawing his sword, and headed to the windmill - as he approached, a young man with a bloody bandage on his head emerged from within.
"The priest, sir - he said to tell you that they were headed to Niole Dra, and that you were to give me a Rittern for passing on the message."
A look of anger came over the paladin's face, and as he turned his back on the man, Harbes tossed him a silver coin. Jean-Paul immediately rode off, to be followed by the others.
They caught up to him by the time he had reached the village. By this time, Eloi and Mordekei were feeling better, and had started to see light and dark shapes again. Jean-Paul had just about calmed down when he caught sight of three horses riding slowly on the road ahead. As he grew nearer he saw that one of the horses bore two riders. They soon caught up to them, and found it was Bermen, riding with the King, and Aranon and Sholin.
Jean-Paul decided, in the presence of the King, to withhold his views on Aranon's usual decision-making for a later date. A quick greeting was exchanged, and after the King had snapped at everyone who asked after his health, they set off, everyone eager to gain the safety of the capital.

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