Mortalis

There they go," Liam O'Blythe remarked as the line of goblins streamed along the ravine floor below them. "Right along yer big friend's course and right on time." "Signal the archers," Prince Midalis instructed. "Let us be done with this."

Liam lifted his spear, tipped with a red flag emblazoned with the black cow: the sign of death. Before the man had gone through three waves of the pennant, the eager archers, set along both sides of the ravine, began firing their missiles down upon the running goblins.

Bruinhelde and his kinsmen had caught this band, one of the few remaining anywhere near Pireth Vanguard, as they camped in the forest. Using Andacanavar as scout and as liaison to Midalis and his men, the Alpinadorans had orchestrated this little ambush.

The archers thinned the goblin line, and those monsters sprinting out in front of the main host soon came upon a series of traps, trip lines, and ankle pits, buried spikes, and one deep trench that bottled up the whole retreat. And that, of course, merely gave the archers more time to let fly their arrows, and into a more concentrated group of targets.

Not to miss any of the fun, Bruinhelde and his horde then appeared at the end of the ravine to Midalis's right. The lead Alpinadorans charged out and fell into their hammer-spins, launching a devastating barrage at the nearest goblins.

And still the archers rained death upon the confused and frightened creatures.

Midalis's cavalry appeared at the left end of the ravine, coming in slowly and in tight ranks, spears leveled before them.

"I should be down with them," the Prince remarked, and, indeed, this was the first action of the season in which he had not been leading the way, There had been no time, for Midalis had been at St. Belfour when the call had come in, and the goblin retreat had been on in full by the time he had even reached this spot on the ridge in the center of the ravine's northern side.

"Bah, but they're not even to see any fightin'," Liam replied, "nothin' more than runnin' down a few strays."

The second Alpinadoran line came charging ahead then, closer to the trailing goblin ranks; and again, the huge northern men spun and launched their chain-handled hammers, smashing the closest ranks.

The goblins didn't even try to assume any defensive formation, just scrambled all over one another, howling and screaming and running out of that death pit in every direction. Those climbing up the north and south walls were met by concentrated arrow volleys that sent them skidding back in their own blood. Those going to the east-Midalis' left-were run down and skewered. Those trying to run back the way they had come, to the west, were met by a third hammer barrage.

It was over in a few minutes, and Prince Midalis hadn't heard even a single human cry out in pain. After all the months of fighting, this skirmish, the battle of the Masur Tierman-dae-so named for the dry bed of the stream that had shaped the ravine-was easily the most one-sided of the entire conflict.

It was no accident, Midalis understood. As his warriors and the Alpinadorans had come to know and better trust each other, as they had come to understand each other's fighting strengths and weaknesses, they had learned to complement each other. And now, with the barbarians growing more accustomed to the Vanguard terrain, the combined force was better shaping the battlefields, picking the fights in which they could inflict the most damage and avoiding those that seemed too risky.

The battle of the Masur Tierman-dae had been a complete success, and Midalis confidently expected many more of the same ... if they could find enough goblins left to kill.

Some movement from behind caught their attention, and the pair turned to see Andacanavar striding up the ridge, deftly picking his course among the tangles of brush and roots. Without a word of greeting, he moved to stand beside Midalis and Liam; and though the two Vanguardsmen were mounted, they did not tower over the huge Alpinadoran.

"I came to this place as soon as I heard of the fight," Midalis explained. "And I feared that I missed it-though it has been choreographed perfectly, a complete rout. But I am surprised to see Andacanavar here. I had thought you would be leading the Alpinadoran ranks."

"Bruinhelde's fight, from beginning to end," the ranger answered. "And your archers and horsemen performed their role perfectly. Look down on the ravine with hope, Prince Midalis, for before you looms the last goblin threat to Vanguard." As he finished, hemmed away from the slaughter on the ravine floor to gaze meaningfully at Midalis. When Midalis met his eyes, he understood that Andacanavar referred to much more than regional security.

With this slaughter, the goblins had been eradicated from Vanguard in Honce-the-Bear. But now, Midalis knew, would come the real test. Would the army of Vanguard follow the Alpinadorans north to the southern reaches of their kingdom, to secure those lands, as well?

Midalis wanted to give the ranger his assurances of that cooperation, but he could not; his talks with his countrymen toward just that end had not been met with enthusiasm. He nodded to Andacanavar and remarked, "And all the minions of the dactyl will be on the run before long."

Andacanavar cocked an eyebrow at the obviously evasive remark, but he, too, nodded, apparently accepting the delicacy of the situation.

"Where was Andacanavar, then, to be missin' such a fight as this?" Liam O'Blythe put in. He added, "Does well by Bruinhelde to see him puttin' together such a massacre."

"Business in the north," the ranger answered, and he looked even more intently at the Prince of Vanguard and went on, "arrangements to be made."

Midalis glanced back at Liam and saw the look of concern on the man's face-for he had told Liam of Andacanavar's pending "arrangements." Ironically, it was that expression of doubt, of fear even, that bolstered Midalis in his resolve that this alliance with Bruinhelde's people would not be a passing thing. He turned back to Andacanavar, his face grim, and nodded. " Inform Bruinhelde that I will meet him at the mead hall tomorrow night," he said, "that we might discuss our plans."

The ranger looked back down at the valley, where the last of the goblins were scrambling wildly, only to be run down, skewered by arrows or blasted by Alpinadoran hammers.

"And a fine mead hall celebration it will be," the ranger remarked. He patted Midalis' horse on the neck and trotted back the way he had come, as Midalis and Liam silently watched him go.

When Midalis finally looked away from the ranger, toward his companion, he saw that the distress had not left Liam's expression.

"He moves with the grace of a much smaller man," Midalis remarked, more to break the tension than anything else.

"And quick on his feet, if he went all the way to the mountains and back," Liam agreed, his sharp tone and his reference to the mountains-the expected locale of the ominous arrangements for the blood-brothering Andacanavar had indicated to Midalis-telling the Prince in no uncertain terms that Liam's fears were strongly founded.

"Your concern truly touches me," he said with a chuckle.

Liam didn't smile. "I'm not thrilled with losin' me Prince," he said. "Andacanavar would not have arranged this trial if he believed I could not survive it," Midalis replied, "nor have I even agreed to partake."

"Oh, ye'U go," Liam continued, nodding his head. "I know ye too well to think ye'd refuse any dare."

That brought another chuckle to Midalis, with the recollections of so many chances he and Liam had taken together as younger men in the wild Vanguard woods. Liam even managed a slight smile of his own then, unable to resist the delicious memories.

"But ye were younger then," Liam said after a moment, "and we was both seein' less to lose."

"I have not agreed," Midalis repeated, bluntly and firmly, and there was truth in his words. He truly had not decided upon the wisdom of accepting the blood-brothering, as Andacanavar had called it. On the surface, it seemed like a wonderful way to strengthen the bond between the Vanguardsmen and the Alpinadorans-Bruinhelde was no minor chieftain among the northern clans! If Midalis and Bruinhelde both survived the blood-brothering trials, they would be bound forever as siblings.

But Midalis knew that by agreeing to such a binding trial, a ritual that would bind not only him but also those who served him, he was in effect signing a treaty with Alpinador-or at least with Bruinhelde's substantial clan. And did he have the right to enter into such a treaty without the knowledge and blessings of his brother, the King? What would happen if Bruinhelde called upon their alliance at some future date, forcing the Prince of Vanguard to send half his troops to the frigid northern reaches of desolate Alpinador to battle some new enemy, a great dragon, perhaps, or invading powries?

On the other hand, Prince Midalis could not deny that Bruinhelde and his clansmen had saved him and his army, had saved St. Belfour, despite their animosity toward the Abellican Church. Could the honorable Midalis ignore the ranger's request for such a binding?

"Haven't ye then?" Liam remarked after a long and uncomfortable silence. "Haven't ye come to see the barbarians as allies? Even as friends, mayhap? "

Midalis stared at him hard, but didn't deny the words. "Haven't ye figured that we'd be packin' for the roads north, to see if any goblins're needin' chasin' out in Bruinhelde's land?" "Do you not believe that we owe that much, at least? " Midalis replied. "Aye," Liam said resignedly and without hesitation. "We're owin' them barbarians too much, by me own figurin'. But I'll be with ye, don't ye doubt."

"Never did," Midalis answered, and he urged his horse into motion and turned back down the ridge. He and Liam met the rest of the warriors on the field outside of St. Belfour soon after, the men full of excitement. The monks came out to join in the celebration as well, led by a boisterous Agronguerre bearing barrels of wine and ale and food. They all knew it, without ever hearing it proclaimed officially by Midalis: the goblin threat had been ended this day, and the folk of Vanguard could go about putting their fields, and their lives, back in order.

Midalis took it all in stride, and prepared to let them have this night of rejoicing-or thought he would, at least, until Andacanavar and Bruinhelde arrived. Fortunately, Midalis was among the first to spot them.

The Prince rushed over to the pair and spoke before either of them, particularly grim Bruinhelde, could instigate the conversation about Vanguardsmen going north. "I have promised to meet you in the mead hall tomorrow night," he said.

"You do not invite us to participate in your celebration?" Bruinhelde asked. "Would it have been better for Midalis, then, if we had not fought the goblins this day? "

"Of c-course you are welcome," Midalis stuttered, only then realizing how ungrateful and unwelcoming he had sounded. "You and all of your warriors. I only thought... I mean, my friend, you do not wear the face of celebration but one of planning."

"There will be no mead hall tomorrow night," Bruinhelde explained, rather gruffly. But since Midalis was certainly used to gruffness from the man, this did not alarm him greatly. "We leave with the morning light, for the northern trails back to our home."

Liam O'Blythe walked up beside the Prince then, bearing extra mugs of ale, which he offered to the guests.

"You can understand Bruinhelde's desire to be on the road as soon as possible," Andacanavar stated. "He knows not whether any of our fleeing enemies have ventured into his homeland, though we left the passes into the region well guarded."

"Of course," Midalis agreed, and he held his mug up in salute to Bruinhelde. The barbarian looked at the Prince for a moment, then responded in kind.

"Tomorrow will be a sad day for the men of Vanguard," Midalis went on.

"For some," Bruinhelde replied, and Midalis knew he was talking about the brothers of St. Belfour; for though Agronguerre had done well to secure the alliance, the barbarians had remained suspicious of the monks.

"For all," Midalis replied. "Vanguard has not forgotten what you and your warriors have done for us. All in St. Belfour would have perished had not Bruinhelde and his brethren come to the field. We remember."

"Well enough to follow us north? " the Alpinadoran leader asked bluntly,

Midalis sighed. "I had meant to address that issue in detail with my warriors at sunrise," he explained. "Thus, I had planned to speak with you at the mead hall tomorrow night." "You will come or you will not," Bruinhelde said.

"You are the leader of the Vanguardsmen," Andacanavar said. "Is not your word their law? "

There it was, spoken baldly without any room for evasion. Midalis was indeed the leader, the ruler, was the man who had to make this decision. But Prince Midalis had never been an autocrat, preferring rather to build consensus for his decisions. He almost always sought out the advice of his fellows-Liam, Agronguerre, and others-and always listened carefully to that advice before acting. Now, though, it had been laid squarely upon his shoulders: a great weight, a great decision that could hold grave implications for his beloved fellow Vanguardsmen in the immediate future and for the kingdom of Honce-the-Bear for years to come.

And Midalis had to respond now. Studying the Alpinadorans, he recognized that Bruinhelde had forced this decision as a test more of the man Midalis, than of the Vanguardsmen in general. Given that Bruinhelde and Midalis were about to go through the most intimate of ceremonies, where, according to Andacanavar, they would have to depend fully on each other or perish, the Prince could understand Bruinhelde's desire to see his heart laid bare.

"We shall come," Midalis answered firmly. Liam gasped, but did well, Midalis thought, in quickly composing himself. "Of course we shall! What friends, what allies, would you have made, good Bruinhelde, if we accepted your blood to protect our homes but did not offer our own in return? I do not yet know, however, how many I can bring with me. Our farms and homes have been ravaged by the years of battle, and I must make sure that they are ready to supply us for the next winter."

"Make your plans, then," Bruinhelde offered. "We will await your arrival at the mead hall tomorrow night."

"But ye just said-" a confused Liam started to protest. But Midalis, who understood well the test Bruinhelde had just put to him and was not the least bit surprised by the Alpinadoran leader's reversal, stopped him with an upraised hand.

"I will bring as many as can be spared," Midalis replied. "Now, please join us in our celebration." He turned and waved his hand across, an invitation for the two Alpinadorans, who, with their great height and massive bulk, stood out among the smaller Vanguardsmen.

Bruinhelde looked to Andacanavar, and the ranger nodded and led the way into the host of revelers. Few joined the two barbarians, though many looked their way. After a while, Prince Midalis, fearing that their guests might feel insulted, bade Liam to gather a few friends and go and join them.

"They're all afraid o' sayin' the wrong thi^g," Liam explained. "Ye do well with Bruinhelde and the ranger, but the rest of us don't know 'em, and aren't sure we're wantin' to know 'em!

"I know what ye're thinkin' to say," Liam quickly added, seeing that Midalis was about to protest. "And no, me lord, I'm not forgettin' what Bruinhelde and his kin did for us on the field about St. Belfour and in all thefightin' since."

"Then go and make our guests feel welcome," Midalis instructed. Liam turned to do just that, but stopped short.

"Seems another had the same way o' thinkin'," he said, leading Midalis' gaze across to the two barbarians and to Abbot Agronguerre and Brother Haney, who were approaching them.

Midalis set off quickly at once, Liam falling in step behind him.

"Greetings, good Bruinhelde and good Andacanavar," he heard the abbot say. "You remember Brother Haney, I trust."

A group of men cut across Midalis at that moment, stopping him short, and their discussion prevented him from hearing the barbarians' response. He breathed a little easier when he finally managed to get around the group of Vanguardsmen, to find the two monks and the two barbarians seemingly at ease.

"Twenty brothers," Agronguerre was saying as Midalis approached. "I wish it could be more, as I wish that I could travel with you."

"You're not so old," Andacanavar offered to the abbot.

"Closer to seventy than to sixty!" Agronguerre proudly replied, patting his belly under the drawstring of his brown robe.

Andacanavar laughed and winked at that statement, a not-so-subtle reminder that he, too, had seen several decades of life, though he could outfight any man north of the gulf.

"Me abbot's got to stay in St. Belfour," Brother Haney cut in. "Word's that a messenger's on the way from the south. We lost our Father Abbot-"

"The leader of our Church," Agronguerre explained. Andacanavar nodded, but Bruinhelde just held his stoic, unreadable expression. "And thus, I expect to be summoned to the south, where a new leader will be elected. But with Vanguard apparently secured, my brothers and I wish to help along the road to the north. I would not presume to send Abellican monks into Alpinador, though, without your permission."

"We came to your aid, you come to ours," Bruinhelde remarked, cutting short Andacanavar, who seemed to be beginning another of his many diplomatic interventions. "It is fair and good. Your brothers are welcome, and with my thanks."

Prince Midalis could hardly believe his ears. He and Liam joined the group with a nod, and with the Prince patting Agronguerre on the shoulder.

"They will take gemstones with them," Agronguerre went on, "and will use them against our enemies and to aid the wounded Vanguardsmen. For your own wounded-" Bruinhelde stiffened/and Midalis held his breath "-the choice remains yours to make, of course." Agronguerre continued, "If you desire our healing magic, pray you simply ask."

"No,"saidBruinhelde.

"As you will," Agronguerre replied. "I feel that I would be derelict in our friendship if I did not make the offer."

"And a fine offer you've made," Andacanavar put in.

"You will watch over the brothers," Bruinhelde said to Midalis.

"Brother Haney will lead them," Agronguerre remarked, but the barbarian leader wasn't paying him any attention.

"We welcome them as allies against our enemies," Bruinhelde went on. "Not as ..." He leaned over to Andacanavar and said something in the Alpinadoran tongue, and the ranger promptly translated.

"Not as missionaries."

"Of course," Abbot Agronguerre said with a bow, and he turned to Midalis. "Let us know when you plan to depart. The brothers will be ready." With another bow to the barbarians, he led Brother Haney away.

"It is time for us to return to our own folk, as well," Andacanavar said. "We await you at the mead hall tomorrow night.

"And, Prince Midalis," he added with a sly look, "name a second to command your force. If the opportunity presents itself, perhaps we can make this trip doubly profitable. And, my friend, you never can tell when the spirit shaggoth will win."

Midalis smiled at the remark, but he felt Liam O'Blythe tense at his side, and he knew that his friend was going to try to persuade him against accepting the blood-brothering, probably long into the night.