A whisper led him through madness.

He stumbled forward with unfamiliar feet ten times too small to belong to a warrior. There were lights on the hills around him, fires, voices shouting through a downpour of sloshing hoof beats. He reached for his sword then remembered that he hadn't a sword that night. He had only been a boy of twelve Midsummers. Only a boy and yet he led the ragged remains of his father's tribe.

Who leads the moredhel? the whispering voice insisted in his head. I must see more.

Years. A river of men coursed together in a bleeding tide and he was amidst them. Screams rang. A howling figure silhouetted himself against the moon and brandished a bloody sword aloft. The wolfish figure screamed words of wrath and damnation as he cleaved his way through his moredhel brothers. He was Delekhan, former general of Murmandamus, leader of the unified tribes of the Northlands, and he was the enemy...

Gorath!

The memory detonated into a million fading thoughts, each fleeing after the faint echoes of a weak whisper. Before him now there was a new image, the face of a fair young girl whose pale blue eyes watched him with weary interest. There were others too, all seated like himself around a polished council table, all studying, all dissecting. And Gorath was the object of their scrutiny.

"I cannot find the truth, my Prince," the tired girl whispered finally, quietly. "His mind is chaotic. I find images but I cannot hold them long enough to understand."

Narrowing his dark eyes, Prince Arutha glared at Gorath. "He hides his thoughts?

"Gorath is moredhel." Pug quickly interceded for his exhausted daughter. "Even with Gamina's exceptional talent for sensing thoughts, his mind may have many innate psychic defenses. I may need to send for one of my advanced students..."

"No need to disturb studies, master magician Pug. The moredhel speaks truly."

Council members exchanged surprised glances then turned their attention to the aged magician seated next to Pug. Lowering his eyes, the man made a dismissive gesture.

Forgive me, I do not mean to presume, but I have looked into his mind as well," Makala continued. "War in the Kingdom would have many wide ranging effects, not the least of which could lead to a disruption of trade between our two worlds. My Emperor of Tsuranuanni would be most displeased if our rift-making secrets were seized by barbarians in warfare."

Gorath glowered at the Tsurani magician. "Trading agreements not withstanding, the moredhel watch your borders, Nighthawks spy on your imperial cousins and before the snows there shall be an army come to the Kingdom! Heed my words Prince of Krondor! You must prepare your troops!"

Anger flashed in the thunderheads of Arutha's eyes as he rose to his feet...

ARUTHA: What I must or must not do will not be dictated by a dissident moredhel. If not for Locklear's good faith in you, I would have had your head staked on a pole and paraded up and down the low quarters of Krondor once I saw you!

ARUTHA: I have been tolerant while I listened to your vague speculations based on incidental half-heard conversations, but how am I to believe what you say? What evidence have you laid before this council to prove what Delekhan intends to do?

GORATH: What evidence? I bear the humiliation of betraying my vow as a moredhel and the indignity of surrendering to a sworn enemy...

MAKALA: Why betray Delekhan to the Kingdom of the Isles? Of what benefit to you is it to snare him?

GORATH: He is leader in name only. However bitter a draught Delekhan may be for your kith and kin to drink, magician, his rule is black poison in the gullets of me and mine. Already he enslaves my cousins and rapes the land.

GORATH: Bloody his nose Prince of Krondor. Blunt his swords and the unified tribes will cast him down in wrath. Let him cross your Northern border, however, and ten other clans will join their strength to his and the legacy of Murmandamus will be but a spark next to his glory.

ARUTHA: Where would you have me send my troops? If indeed he intends a strike against one of our northernmost possessions, which castle shall I garrison for the attack? Highcastle? Ironpass? Northwarden? If I am to fight a war, by my teeth tell me where would you have me fight it!

GORATH: Would that I could tell you! Delekhan holds in good confidence only a handful of cowering dogs and, among them, only a few are privy to his war plans. His private counsels are restricted to choice individuals, his advisors Narab and Nago, his mistress Liallan, his son Moraeulf and - Nighthawks!

ARUTHA: He keeps foul company that leader of yours...

GORATH: Your highness, if you give me leave, I believe I can find the evidence of Delekhan's intent. I will need someone to accompany me to Romney and supplies for my journey and a small parcel of gold.

ARUTHA: Romney? What do you think you can find in a provincial river town in the heart of the Kingdom?

GORATH: I aim to catch a bird in flight. Of late Delekhan has emptied a good deal of his treasury to revive the service of the Nighthawks. In exchange he has demanded tactical information about kingdom holdings...

ARUTHA: He's turned the Guild of Assassins into a guild of spies?

GORATH: Only for a time. Although the payments have been left in various hidden locales, the messengers were always to rendezvous in Romney. If I go there, I may be able to intercept information concerning a forthcoming attack. Would such evidence suffice?

ARUTHA: Perhaps. Damn me but I don't trust you Gorath. How do I know that this isn't a plot of yours? We can weigh the evidence to our heart's content and your cousins could be slitting the throats of my serfs as we sit dawdling...

ARUTHA: Go to Romney, but you'll provide for yourself. If this is part of some secret moredhel scheme, I'll not look the fool before the world. Pug, unroll the map for me...

The scroll smelled of dust.

Scrawled in chicken scratches and spider tracks, tiny lines staggered across the moth-eaten paper, indicating the paths that were the major roads within the Kingdom.

Pointer in hand, Arutha bent over the map and pointed to a large black dot. "We are here in Krondor. At dawn tomorrow you will leave through the main gate and rendezvous with your escort, Seigneur James. I know you might have preferred Locklear's company, but he has business elsewhere.

"You will head to Romney. Providing one of Delekhan's assassins doesn't slit your throat first, you should reach the Ursine Ford within the month. In Romney you will join a special detachment of King Lyam's soldiers staying at the Black Sheep Tavern. They may be of service to you."

Nodding, Gorath took in Arutha's advice, listening studiously as the Prince reviewed the details. "If you find the evidence, I will act only when James has conveyed the information to me. Is that clear? Only when I receive James' word. Until then, I wait."

"Understood," Gorath replied.

"Good," Arutha replied, slapping the surface of the table with his palm. Looking around the council chamber, he noted the wearied expressions of all who sat around the map. "Why don't you let Gamina and Makala show you around Krondor? I have a few things I need to consider alone."

Reading the offer as a polite dismissal, the worn council members began to file out the door, most glad to be on their feet again following the grueling session. As Pug passed by, however, Arutha snagged his sleeve and drew him back to the table. "If you don't mind, I would have your council, cousin Pug."

"Certainly," Pug replied, resuming his seat. "I am all attention."

ARUTHA: As I see it, Delekhan could have only two potential targets for attack into the Kingdom: Highcastle...

ARUTHA: ...and Northwarden.

ARUTHA: His fortress at Sar-Sargoth is three hundred miles to the North and I doubt he has the resources to defend a line that long.

ARUTHA: So an attack at Northwarden seems unlikely.

PUG: Leaving Highcastle...

ARUTHA: Which is a viable alternative, but neither target seems to have an obvious goal. I know you are no field strategist and you hate to become involved in state matters but I should like you to delay your return to your home at Stardock for a while. I feel...ill at ease.

PUG: You are not alone in that. I too have sensed something unusual in the air, but I won't ascribe it to anything as dire as magic. More likely we suffer from bad soup.

ARUTHA: Feelings aside I will call up the militia reserves from Malac's Cross, Darkmoor, and Lyton and join them to a detachment of the Krondorian Lancers just outside of the Dimwood.

ARUTHA: James will send word to me there.

PUG: What of the garrison?

ARUTHA: It will remain in place. I have considered the option of a full push south and it seems unlikely, but I will give Delekhan nothing. Our agreement remains.

ARUTHA: Now we wait. Gods help Gorath if he betrays us to the moredhel.

MEETING OWYN IN THE SEWERS

A shadow approached.

From a murky corner of the room, the figure advanced towards them. Gorath's pulse quickened for a moment, but he relaxed slightly as he saw they were not about to be attacked.

OWYN: It took you two long enough. I was beginning to think the Mockers had you bagged up again, Seigneur James. Is everything all right?

JAMES: Squire, suppose I ignore the fact that this trip is a state secret to which you are not supposed to be privy AND that we are hurrying out of the sewers instead of leaving by the main gate at the proper time. How did you find out we were coming?

OWYN: Well, after Seigneur Locklear dumped me off after we got here and told me I could go home, I got bored and decided to check out Krondor. Unfortunately there's nothing much interesting going on here, so I decided I would come back to the palace. I tried to pay Gorath an unexpected visit last night, but discovered that the guards had been doubled with orders that no one could see him. I might have fallen for it if I hadn't heard someone snoring in his cell...

JAMES: Gorath doesn't snore, I take it.

OWYN: Not a sound. When I realized that something was in the air I went to find Locklear and discovered that he was mysteriously absent, despite a tray of food delivered to his door just moments after I slipped away. Finally, I came down here and talked to Limm who told me you had been down here earlier this morning. At that point, I realized Arutha meant to slip Gorath out of Krondor for some reason...

JAMES: Are you sure you're not a thief by profession? You think unnervingly like a Mocker I used to know.

OWYN: So, are we ready? We should probably get moving. Where are we going anyway?

GORATH: You cannot accompany us, Owyn. Our mission is much too important.

JAMES: Quiet, moredhel! I'll handle this.

OWYN: But I could jeopardize your mission! Who knows who might take me captive between here and Tiburn? If I go back to Krondor now, I might accidentally talk to someone. Besides, I'm from the eastern part of the Kingdom. I know the area and I might be able to help...

JAMES: For better or worse, you seem determined to hitch your fate to catastrophe. But if you want to get yourself killed at a tender young age, who am I to naysay it? I used to pull the same stunts when Arutha wished to pull out of Krondor...

All right then squire, you can come along, but these are the ground rules. One, I am in charge and you do whatever I say without question. Two, under no circumstances do you reveal anything about Gorath or our mission to anyone. If someone asks, we will continue what Seigneur Locklear suggested - Gorath is an elf. Thirdly, and lastly, you don't wander off on your own. I don't care if you're watering the trees, you ask me first. Is all that clear?

OWYN: Absolutely. Whatever you say.

JAMES: Stop smiling. You're going to earn your keep. I know I'm going to regret this, but let's get moving. We have a long way to go and no time to get there.

THE CHAPTER ENDS
Entering the Black Sheep Tavern

Even as they threw the door open, James bit back the impulse to vomit. Kingdom soldiers lay scattered about the room, each lying in his own coagulating pool of blood. Nowhere did there appear to be anyone untouched by murderous hands...