Two strides, and Kendath was standing over the crumpled heap on the ground. The man had brown hair, a brown beard. His dagger lay buried in the leaves a few feet away. Kendath seized a fistful of tangled hair and yanked. The man jerked up with a gasp. A black gash like lightning seared his cheek. It smelled charred, sickly sweet.

Kendath shoved his knife under the man's throat. "Who are you?"

Blink. Blink.

"Who are you?"

Slowly, the eyes focused. A cough, then another. The man struggled. He was a burly specimen, with bulging muscles under the ripped sleeves of his shirt. But when the knife glinted under his throat, he fell still. "My name..." A rasp. "Axeman. Gorm Axeman. I have a wife. And two daughters."

"Do you know this man?" To Jayen.

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Jayen dropped his sack, but he was looking at Merrin. "What was that?"

Merrin opened her mouth, and the confusion that tried to come out made her close it again. She looked at the ground.

In two steps Jayen had taken hold of her wrist and turned it over. Merrin jerked it away - it didn't hurt, but her fingers tingled strangely - and echoed Kendath. "Do you know him?"

Jayen turned. The man on the sharp end of Kendath's dagger stiffened as he did.

In the silence that followed, Merrin thought she could hear her heartbeat pounding.

"I'm going to marry his daughter," said Jayen, and this time the utter incomprehension in his face finally reached past Merrin's numbness.

She took two steps and dragged her sabre out of its sheath. Her left hand was shaking, but it was not fear. "Who sent you?" she demanded, raising the point to rest at his throat. "Who sent you? By all the gods - one day! I cannot have one thrice-cursed day!"

Her fingers were not too numb to curl into a fist. "Answer me!"

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Gorm Axeman blanched dead white. His glance darted to both blades glinting at his throat, then to Merrin, then Jayen. Sweat trickled down his face. A sliver of a whimper escaped his throat. "Please. Don't tell anyone. Don't tell your father. Don't tell Mirie - especially not Mirie. I didn't mean to do it, I swear on my mother's grave, I didn't, but I didn't want him to - he said he was going to - "

"Shut up," Kendath said. Disgust clogged his throat like bile. He could well imagine the threat: I'll kill your wife. I'll kill your children, if you don't do as I say... He jerked his head at Merrin. "Answer her question."

"No - "

"Answer!"

"A priest!" He shoved both knife and sabre aside and threw himself forward, eyes dancing in their sockets, hands clawing for a hold. Kendath jumped back, and Gorm Axeman fell to his knees, moaning. "A priest. A servant... of the gods..."

"What did he look like?" Kendath demanded.

"Black! All black, and cold. So cold." Gorm trembled. "He said - he said he would do terrible things - he said the gods wanted her dead!" He stabbed a finger at Merrin, then collapsed once more, moaning as though his chest would split in two.

Black. Cold. Kendath reached into his pocket, where he felt again the strip of cloth that slipped through his fingers like spider silk. He spun to face Merrin. "We have to go. Back to Riversmeet. We can't - What happened to your wrist?"

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"It's nothing," said Merrin mechanically. She'd endured worse. The point of her sabre faltered and dropped, coming to rest in the loam of the forest trail.

"The gods don't want me dead," she said, watching the pitiful figure grovel in the dead leaves. "He lied. He's no servant of the gods, either." Her own unnatural calm astounded her. "That's me."

She disregarded Jayen's incoherent exclamation, and knelt to look Gorm Axeman in the eye. His frenzied stare fastened on her face. "No one," she said, "will do anything to your wife and daughters." A touch to the messy gash on his face and a glow of white knit it, and Merrin straightened.

Jayen started to speak. "Merrin -"

"It's not a legend. I'm the Chosen of the Gods." Merrin awkwardly sheathed her sabre. There. It was said.

That admitted, she sucked in a breath and tried to think. The peasant sprawled on the path - his story of a black figure - "Yes," said Merrin, still unable to believe this, happening in little Riversmeet. "Yes, let's go."

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The flight back to Riversmeet was surreal. The four of them - Merrin leading, Jayen and Gorm trailing her heels, Kendath bringing up the rear - stumbled through the mess of leaves and tangled branches. The birds still twittered. The breeze still drifted. The sun shone, golden through the fiery canopy, as brightly as it had that daybreak.

Kendath cursed. Riversmeet had seduced him. He couldn't believe his stupidity.

Gorm Axeman staggered off on his own as soon as they broke into the open fields. The threesome let him go and pushed on, over the river, up the path, all the way to the outskirts of Riversmeet where a pair of children still twirled in the streets. The bustle and chatter of market scattered the noonday calm. Townsfolk waved as they passed.

Who could have known? Kendath hardly paused for breath. His heart hammered in his ears. Who could have ever found them here, in this little town - in this little haven - ? He shook the sweat out of his eyes. The Lich was dead. The Shadowers were gone. He'd watched their Citadel fall - watched it with his own eyes -

A dog barked. Dragon threw himself against the gate, tongue lolling, tail swishing. Somewhere inside the Tanner house, a girl's wail peaked, then abruptly quieted.

Kendath skidded to a halt in front of the gate. He wheeled around, gripped Merrin by her shoulders. "We have to leave. Now."

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Merrin stared up at him, and was reminded of every frantic headlong rush of their journey. Every escape, every flight from peril into peril. This was Riversmeet! This did not happen here! This would not happen here!

The sickening way her stomach clenched at the thought meant that he was right. Every moment she stayed was a moment those she loved were in danger.

"We need food - packs - horses," she said, forcing the pragmatism past the aching lump that settled in the back of her throat. "Kendath - ah, gods -"

Jayen was behind her, silent, but Merrin could feel the intensity of his gaze on her back. "I need to explain," she said, a plea to the urgency Kendath was radiating, and it was as tangible a need as provisions and transport. She needed them to know. The secrets were too hard. "Not yet. We can't leave yet."

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Kendath dragged a hand through his hair. They didn't have money for horses. They didn't have money for anything, really, and he didn't have his weapons belt - he'd left it in a wagon - how could he have been so stupid? He could go hunt it down, but that'd mean leaving Merrin here... with her family...

Too dangerous.

"Go, then," he said, withdrawing his grip. "Make it quick." He hesitated, then caught her arm again before she went. "Watch what you say. Who knows what hunts us."

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Merrin curled her fingers into fists and let them relax again, trying to gather her thoughts, trying to emerge from the little cocoon of safeness that had enveloped her from the moment they entered Riversmeet.

No longer. Her happiness flickered like the fragile soap bubble it was.

Jayen touched her shoulder, and Merrin jumped. When he said her name, it sounded like urgency concealed by gentleness. "Merrin?"

"Come inside," she said. "I'll explain."

---

Mama had called the twins, casting one look at the expressions both Merrin and Jayen wore, and sent one to bring T'mor and Da from the market. Rhie was still perched on the table, thumb in her mouth.

They were all here. It had hardly taken any time at all. She wished it had taken longer.

Looking around at them, she felt as though her insides were twisting into a knot. "I'm the Chosen of the Gods," she said aloud into the silence. The only surprise was on the faces of the twins, but a look from their mother precluded any questions.

"Go on, Merrin," Mistress Tanner said.

"Everything that's happened -" started Merrin, then shook her head. "There's too much. You have to know... it's dangerous. It's dangerous for me to stay here."

"We don't care," said Jayen, resting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing.

Merrin turned. "I care," she said. "I care too much to stay."

"You're leaving, Merrin?" Adasin's lips were trembling. "But you said you'd show us swordfighting. You haven't even stayed a day."

Merrin could not bring herself to answer.

"Why?" demanded Jayen. "Who is Kendath to know? You're the - the... Chosen."

"He's right," said Merrin. She looked at Adeila. "He's here. Not - not the - one that died. The other one."

The sun that had spilled so brightly through the windows looked muted and stale. Adasin wrapped his arms around her waist. "I don't want you to go," he said, muffled.

Merrin found herself on the brink of tears, and swallowed them. "I know," she said. "I don't want to go either."

"You're bleeding," said Liand.

She'd forgotten. "I'm sorry," said Merrin, looking at all of them. "I - ah, gods, I'm sorry."

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The sudden arrival of a bleeding Merrin into the Tanner house was more than enough to hint Garthag of the troubles ahead. Truth be told Riversmeet had alured even him into a false sense of security and for this he scolded himself. Yet as it appeared the departure would be more than hasty Garthag gathered his already packed equipment and simply placed his spellbook onto a safe place on his waist.

Unannounced, in his usual cold demeanor, Garthag brushed past Merrin who had enterered the house and almost grabbed her along as, if to tell her the lest her family knew the better yet she would not perceive his actions in that way. She, the ever naive fool, would only find frustration and anger as to his actions.

Words of a sharp tongue and venomous insults towards her pathetic acting would only invite more unneccessary burst of emotions. Thus Garthag deemed it fit to leave her with her family, he for one was no longer willing to witness goodbye`s, if he only ever had one with his family.

True, the hand that had sent Lily beyond the veil of death had been his, but little else could have been done and it was only her shattered mind that he had been able to give a painful farewell.

Again, a small needle known as envy poked his heart and made him glare venomously at the sight of a gathered, whole, family inside the house. A visible grin shadowed his face as he pondered, whether he became a sinner, a monster and heartless because he had lost everything as where she, who still had everything seemed so naive and innocent that it almost made his laugh out loud.

As soon as he came to realize that he was not alone, the expression was gone, washed away by the sudden realization of Kendath`s presence. He stared blankly at him as, if to acknowledge his existence yet a few words carved at his throat. There was no need for him to say a word, but in the least he might symphatize a bit as Riversmeet might stand at the edge of the blade. The fools would not realize nor even dream of the possibilities as they were, but Garthag knew what might come to pass after they would depart.

"I see you ran into trouble and thus we will be moving on, judging that she stormed in proclaiming her title and making pitiful apoligies.... They will..." He began with a dry, cold tone yet stopped to refrase his words and coughed to clear his throat.

"Should the Meiltha, or anyone seeking to harm the chosen ever, come to realize that this is her home village.... they will show no mercy.

Before this may not have been a possibility, but alas with her visit here, the little secret may be brought to light and were I a Meiltha officer, how would I best attack her when she is not within my hands reach?

Well you`d best know that, but I`d reckon that the slaughter or even inprisonment of her family was enough to scar her heart.... and with a naive nature of hers, even as far as we have come, will she be able to bear it? Take away all that is dear to a person and you invite despair, rage and insanity to make a home in their hearts....

So tell me... will she be able to bear the loss of her family, should it come to pass? Her father, mother slaughtered without mercy? T`mor and Jayen slain like peasants, like dogs? The twins... hah..."

That pause followed up by a brief chuckle, even Garthag now realized how unsettling it was and knew now why it so easily invited Kendath`s blade to his throat.

"Bleak is the world we live in..."

Every word pouring out of his throat, as he painted a picture for Kendath in a search of an answer from the one person who could support Merrin on this journey, were blank statements wrapped into a threat of a bleak future. However occasionally his speech was incoherent, it shifted and balanced from his casual cynicism to surprising sense of sympathy towards what might become of Merrin`s family.

When he had no more words to say, he mentally prepared to receive Kendath`s knuckle`s that would no doubt soon enough connect with his face. That would tell more than clearly, to Garthag, that he was not much of a conversationist as all he could amount from his mouth were threats and mock. Old habbits die hard, but then again old lies died even harder....

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Kendath looked around the cottage at the family crowded within, so closely that he could hear their halting breaths, could almost feel the thunder of their heartbeats. Suddenly he was reminded of another village not so different from this one, awash in flames. The villagers had fled, screaming, while the fire had chased them down like wolves on the heels of lambs. How loudly could Mistress Tanner wail upon watching Rhie's slaughter? How futilely would Master Tanner defend his hearth?

He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe that last night he'd lain by the fire and felt safe. What hopeless, hopeless stupidity.

"Garthag's right," Kendath said. Too harshly? Perhaps. "We've put you all in danger by coming here. We're sorry. If the Meiltha or these so-called priests or whatever hunts us finds you, they'll show no mercy." He nodded at Merrin's wrist, dry but still ugly in the too-bright sunlight. "Trust no one. The man who did that was a friend. Do not repeat anything Merrin has told you, or her life and yours are forfeit. The stories you've heard about the Meiltha? All of them are true." He met Master Tanner's gaze. "Do you have a map?"

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[First of all, bravo! I've been enjoying keeping up with this RP. It's been very interesting. Secondly, I know this is a simply ridiculous question, given how far the RP has progressed and such, but would you all have any interest in letting another person join?]

((Many thanks! We love feedback, and it's always great to know that someone other than us appreciates the story Please do tell us any further observations you have.

As you suspect, though, we really don't have room for another character. As of now, we have the possibility of one more already pending, and what we have is already substantial. Again, thank you so much for your interest - we hope you keep reading ))

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Master Tanner's bushy eyebrows were drawn down into a deep frown. "Look here," he said, ignoring Kendath's question for the moment. "We're all honest folk. Merrin's liked well enough. What's got you spooked?"

No one spoke, while Merrin hesitated. Then, before she could attempt to sum up their situation, her mother clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"You all cannot up and leave this very moment," she said, lifting Rhie off the table. "Unless you're decided your feet will carry you all the way? Foolishness. You won't clear the mountains, I'll tell you that much, not without a sturdy horse or two, and some food. Come and help mama, Rhie."

Those crowded into the room breathed a collective sigh that was not quite relief. Merrin saw Jayen's eyes shift to her and Kendath, and her father's frown lessen only fractionally. The twins were still standing by the table looking at her like wounded puppies.

T'mor brushed past. "I'll go to the general store," he said. He ended up with Rhie in tow. With a shake of his head, Master Tanner went in search of a map, leaving his wife in the kitchen with a pair of dejected twins under her instruction.

Merrin moved to ruffle Adasin's hair. "Maybe a little swordfighting, before we go," she murmured in his ear, compassion swelling painfully in her breast. Then she turned purposefully and dragged Garthag outside down the steps of the back veranda.

With this relative privacy, her demeanor changed faster than blinking.

"Who do you think you are?" Merrin hissed at the mage, balling her hands into fists and gesturing toward the back door. The air still held the briskness of morning, but she was too hot with rage to notice. "Talking like that in front of them! I decide what is said. They are my family. I will thank you in the future to keep your mouth shut and talk about things that concern you! I don't care what you think! I don't care what idiot reasons float around in your head!"

She realized her fingers were itching for the hilt of her sabre. It was hard to resist the temptation to strike him - standing there, spouting caustic nonsense, in front of the children! "Never talk about them like that. Never. I can destroy you where you stand, Garthag, and you know it. I'm tired of being the silly child. I'm tired of your utter lack of respect for anyone besides yourself. Keep a civil tongue in your head."

She didn't want to hear whatever reply he would sneer. Merrin whirled away and stalked back up the steps.

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Leave now? When they'd only just gotten here, only just started to rest? Merrin was improving rapidly, yes, but she was nowhere near fully recovered. The young woman had died not a week ago and was only just beginning to mend, and already they meant to move on? Clearly something significant had occurred to cause this sudden concern, but even still.

Glancing over at Caire and the twins, Adeila indicated that Kendath should join her in the other room. "I'm well aware that my opinion is not the only determining factor in this decision," she said quietly as soon as they were relatively alone, "but I will give it anyway. Merrin is in no condition to resume travel so soon. Neither are you, for that matter, but at least more than she. If the condition in which you arrived at my door is any indication of how traveling usually turns out, I would not clear her for another week. Perhaps a month."

She looked toward the kitchen once more before continuing. "I realize that present circumstances do not allow for quite that long, but at least give her one more night. One more night sleeping in a real bed. One more night with her family, and a proper chance to say goodbye. She needs that more than any physical healing that I can offer."

Not a single muscle twitched on Garthag face as Merrin began hissing at him and cast her threats, which were not at all convincing. Such a fiery response, filled with the utmost frustration and rage that had sought their way to twindle themself around her heart.

Sympathy was not something Garthag lacked, but lest Merrin wished to lose all she loved she would heed his words. One night, that was all it took, in one night her beloved family could be gone. There were things beyond the blaze of that white, holy fire and the reach of the cold steel of her scimitar. And he sincerely doubted that the gods were willing to bring her family back to life, despite whatever sacrifice she would make.

Death made no excuses nor exceptions, not even for those who mastered the necromantic rites and magics, even they were beyond what was considered life.

Garthag almost felt he could laugh at her sudden burst of anger, but sought it best to control himself because there were others within hearing range. Instead he smile in the shadows of his hood as he threw it over his head as a cover. Silently, sluggishly he slumped to sit against the wall on the house, trying to make his situation as comfortable as possible. Inside he would only receive murderous glares and suffer insults at best. Reason was not the forte of these people, but reason was all Garthag had left so he for one had to cling to it.

Whatever Merrin`s, Kendath`s or Adeila`s thoughts of him were, Garthag had seen no malice nor wrong in his actions or words. Merrin said she was tired of being treated like a child? Perhaps not, that was not how Garthag perceived her, she was a spoiled brat with great power.

For once he thought of doing her a favour and she casts blame on him? Or was it that he had no right to do so in front of her family? Oh well, one had to suppose that he was a monster, nothing less, a being of terrible hunger.

She was still naive and he forgave her for that. Because one day she would come to realize horrors that dwelled in this world and perhaps comprehend the true tragedies behind of all those that she had slain or fought. Through Garthag`s eyes the world was bleak, grey and dull....

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Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

"Do you know what our enemies can do in one night?" Kendath shot back. "One night, and this little town will be up in flames. One night, and everyone Merrin has ever cared about will be dead, tortured, interrogated until their brains ooze out of their ears. How's that for healing?"

He took a breath, let his gaze stray toward the tidily made beds, the packs strewn about the floor. They'd expected to stay here awhile. Days, at least. He took another breath before returning his gaze to Adeila. They all owed their lives to her, but her plan was out of the question.

"You've never lost a village before, have you? No, never mind. You have." He sighed. "They've found us. The Shadowers. Perhaps the Meiltha. They've bribed a villager to make an attempt on Merrin's life. A villager, Adeila. A friend. When the rest of them come, they'll kill. Not even the Chosen will be able to stop them."

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