Waytorn glared at his reflection in the water. The scars covering the fight side of his face stood out and seemed to mock him. They laughed and ridiculed him without end. It wasn't really water he was looking at. It was wine. He was in a previously abandoned wine cellar.

He had discovered the cellar many years ago among others. It was surprising since every building in Jaton had a wine cellar, that you couldn't somehow go from one end of the city to the other by tunneling through wine cellars. Waytorn had tried precisely that and found a horde of abandoned cellars overflowing with ancient wines and brandies. He could easily make a fortune selling off the wine due to their age and the fact that they get better with age.

Waytorn wished he could say the same. He was growing old and sentimental. He was stronger, faster and sharper than ever, but he didn't seem to have a point. Almost like his favorite dagger, he was as hard and as strong as platinum and almost as sharp as the Swathick Axe. The difference was that he didn't have a point in life. He was undoubtedly the richest person on the continent, if not the world, but none of that seemed to matter since the only woman he loved scorned him because of it.

Honest money, Larel had called it. What was honest money anyway? Was it earning it or was it stealing it but admitting to it. Honest stealing? Waytorn shook his head and uncorked another bottle with his dagger and a twist of the wrist. He wondered what Larel thought of Wynic Doxon, the Paladin Assassin.

She had warned him if he made the challenge that she wouldn't have anything to do with him. Power and wealth had drawn him too much back then. He challenged Jaton's underworld leader and won. The scarring of his face had seemed a small price to pay at the time. Now his horrid face prevented him from loving again and from returning to love.

With no love he concentrated his efforts in gaining the underworld in Avolic, Athex, Glist and Solut. Then Kobalix set up a stronghold north of Athex. When Wynic Doxon assassinated the minotaur, Waytorn's wealth and power had spread to the Minotaur Empire. To Gitsi, Lucasn, Borsta, Evicoth, Phost, Ralon, Kaliff, Goved, Marsc and even to the minotaur isles.

The cutthroats, thieves, murderers, pirates, highwaymen and burglars that formed Waytorn's army were more allies than comrades. It was more or less a membership in security. If one culprit was caught, others would come to rescue it. Dues were paid in stolen goods, rescuing others and providing safe havens for escaped or wanted criminals.

Waytorn's part in this was law-giver and judge. All members must obey the rules set down by Waytorn and his deputies. Any disregarded rules, such as no pouching, were dealt with by Waytorn or one of his many deputies. Punishment was always death.

There wasn't going to be any deaths today where poaching was concerned. In addition to not being that profitable and hard work, there simply wasn't any poachers according to reports. It wasn't profitable for the amount of work they put into it.

Which left what had already been presumed: the poachers used to work for Kobalix. Since they're in the Icelands they are practically safe from being captured and thrown in jail or killed if Waytorn's men caught them. So perhaps poaching was the most profitable thing they could do in the Icelands, besides freeze.

Because of this poaching business there was more patrols. This meant more members caught that needed rescuing. More people leaving their regular jobs. Less profits. In the end, that was what it came down to: less profits. The nobles would be pleased though since they'd be making more money off taxes.

But what did Waytorn care about money. Money couldn't buy the love of the woman he loved. It never would.

Wynic stopped eating his meal, and stared up into the mountains wondering. That sound had been like a keg of black dust exploding, only smaller. He glanced questioning at Pothax and Nebonex. The huge minotaur prince shrugged and studied the forest edge. Nothing moved among the trees. He unsheathed his Gobansword anyway.

Pothax stared blankly. He spun around as if unsure of where the sound had come from. "What was that?" he asked slowly.

Wynic opened his mouth to speak, but was caught off guard when another thunder-like crack came and echoed off into the distance. This time movement came from the forest and two figures wrapped in furs stepped into the open. Wynic recognized one of them as Snowdancer. The other looked a fair bit like Pothax though he was taller and a bit lanky.

Victoria kicked the dinner fire out with snow. She drew her sword and came over to stand beside Wynic. Bren pushed past her to stand beside Pothax.

The crossbow in the stranger's hand was what concerned Pothax. It was missing the crosspiece and the footnock. The barrel was longer than normal and the stock looked very plain. It was obvious to him that it was the strange crossbow that had made that sound.

"If we must kill you, we will not hesitate to do so," shouted Snowdancer. "Leave," she commanded, pointing in the direction of Jaton. "You will leave the cougar."

Wynic had not felt fear in what felt like a decade. Not since the night he'd killed his father which made him angry. There was something about this strange weapon that made him feel helpless. Wynic restrained his anger. His face went red with rage and he clenched his gloved fists. He turned slowly to face Victoria.

The brigadier only shook her head and studied the strange crossbow. She felt naked and unprotected before the weapon. It was probably some weapon built by Kobalix's army. Since Kobalix encouraged the use of black dust it was quite possible that if these people used to work for Kobalix then it only made sense that the weapon involved black dust. She swallowed a lump in her throat. "They're using black dust. Retreat."

Eluth quickly learned to vomit downwind instead of upwind. He decided to retreat to his cabin to nurse his cold and would have done so had he not noticed an army in the distance.

"That would be the Arthian Army," snorted Mathex. He glanced at his map. "We should be a short distance from Death canyon. If we go through the canyon itself it will be like being sucked through a wind tunnel."

"Meaning?" asked Eluth. He pulled his cloak tighter and sneezed. He fished inside a pouch and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey.

"Meaning we'll be able to go twice, maybe thrice as fast as we are now," explained Mathex. He grabbed Eluth's whiskey bottle and tossed it over the gunwale. "That's the worst thing for a cold!"

"It's my cold and I'll do what I want to," exclaimed Eluth, shoving the huge minotaur. He watched the bottle disappear into the powdery snow. He sneezed again.

"Argue that with Derick, Redhawk's squire. He'd have knocked you over the head and fed you spinach gruel or celery soup. Alcohol only makes you want to vomit more the next morning."

Eluth sneezed and stomped off to his cabin. He snapped at Brenda for getting in his way.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, a bit bewildered. She glanced back in Eluth's direction.

Mathex shrugged. "Some people get tempersome when they're sick." He stared at the Arthian Army. "Or demented," he added.

"Why do you say that?"

"You've heard of how Kobalix was demented?"

"Of course. Who hasn't?"

"Well, I should have seen his temper as a sign of his lack of saneness. Nobody paid much attention to Kobalix though and perhaps that's why he became insanely jealous of the Emperor in the first place; lack of recognition."

A group of knights and minotaurs appeared to be marching in Rat's nest's direction. From their formation, Brenda guessed they were escorting someone. A general or the marshal perhaps.

"Drag the ballasts," Mathex shouted to Sir Carlo. He loosened the rigging and the sails went slack. The ship coasted to a stop.

A short, bald man with a huge saber strapped to his back rode forward to greet Mathex. He rode awkwardly at a varying pace. Brenda laughed and whispered in Mathex's huge ear that the bald man rode like Carlo.

"Captain Savin," shouted Carlo. He waved at the bald man and received a wave back. He ran forward to join Mathex and Brenda in the bow of the small ship. "Guten tag, Herr Savin. And what are you doing this far north?"

"I might ask you the same thing," spat the retired pirate. "And in a ship for that matter. Didn't anyone ever tell you that ships are meant for the sea?"

"Not this one Cap'n. She's meant to work like ice skates. It seems to me that it's better this way that you can't sink. The ice would rip holes in the hull, but since she's made of Arthian oak that isn't a problem. Plus the runners are the only things that touch the ice anyway."

Savin nodded dubiously. "What's her name? Icemaiden?"

"I wish," snorted Carlo. "Unfortunately one of my companions decided to call her Rat's nest. I'd much prefer your name."

"Savin Guerkenstein?"

"No! Icemaiden!"

"I don't know," commented Brenda teasingly. "Guerkenstein sounds pretty. It has a sort of ring to it. Don't you agree Mathex?" The huge minotaur laughed and nodded.

"Will you hurry up with the pleasantries, Savin?" shouted a voice from within the formation. "Ask Mathex what he's doing here! Damn your Stornium politeness!"

"King Willium is impatient to get out of the cold," remarked Savin. "Shall we continue this conversation in the main cabin? We can discuss the ship there."

"Congratulations Mathex," said Willium, toasting the minotaur with a goblet of Kinian wine. "You've proven your ingenuity once again. If we could build a fleet of ships like this in Jaton we could convoy supplies and men to Fort Phal without interference."

Savin looked up from where he was going over designs with Carlo. "My father was a ship builder as you know Willium and I could help Mathex improve his designs here. They have some small flaws in them that I could help remove." He held up the design of a ship resembling a minotaur longboat. "For instance this design is too thin from starboard to port and it would easily capsize."

Mathex nodded thankfully. "I'd enjoy a lesson in ship construction, Cap'n Savin. Perhaps you could solve some problems I've run across in my designs. What would your suggestion be for fixing that design?"

"Add pontoons for support."

Mathex, Savin and Carlo sat down at a table and designed the first Icewarship and Icecargoship. They discussed convoy systems and attack strategies. Caught up in the moment they went on to design small one or two man scoutboats; cavalry ships designed to spear the enemy with the bow of the ship.

A group of twelve knights met Victoria's party two leagues east of Jaton. She talked to them briefly in private and waved good-bye as they rode away on snowflake covered steeds. She looked unhappy and a bit angry.

"What did they say?" asked Bren and Pothax in unison.

"Yeah, what did they say?" demanded Larry. "You look pretty ticked off, Vicky!"

Victoria glared at the cutthroat. "For once you're right, Larry. I am 'ticked off'," she mimicked. "And don't call me Vicky!" she said, muttering something about ripping entrails out with a shovel.

"I think I can guess as to what they said," muttered Nebonex. "The morale in Jaton is incredibly low. They need something to cheer them up. A celebration or parade perhaps?"

Victoria nodded slowly. "They want us to wait for the Arthian and Stornium Armies so we can all enter at once. The Colnic army is camped north of the city and will enter at the same time in a huge parade. The sheer numbers will cause everyone not to worry about the war situation and that some of their kin is stranded in Fort Phal without supplies."

Larry stared. "Politics. We're being told to freeze out here in the cold because of politics? Well, count me out! I'll see you later if I have to! I'm not freezing my rear end off out here in the cold!"

Inwardly, Wynic and Victoria cheered.

"Wait!" snarled King Willium. "They want me to wait?" he shouted at the messenger. He pounded a mailed fist against the wall of his cabin.

The messenger nodded frantically. "Yes, Sire. The knight said that the morale in Jaton is terrible and that a military parade would boost spirits. They're also concerned about the royal family. They-"

"Yes, yes, the royal family is quite distraught. All five-sorry four, boys and six girls. Their father and mother especially," Willium sighed, remembering the family's last visit to a somewhat war torn Athex. "Very well. We will wait just out of sight from Jaton until the Stornium Army and Blackaxe's Army catch up." The King turned to Mathex and Savin. "You two can go ahead and see to the building of these Iceships. I understand the army ran across Victoria and Wynic's party. Find Nebonex and take him with you. He'll take care of any diplomatic problems you might run into. Do-"

"I'm already here your majesty," snorted Nebonex, knocking on the inside of the door as he entered. He shook the snow from his cloak and turned to face Mathex. "You've done it again I see," he growled.

"Yes. I humbly accept your compliment, My Great Prince," saluted Mathex stiffly. "I would be honoured to have you accompany us."

"Twenty minotaurs should be a sufficient honour guard," muttered Nebonex.

"But what of this parade?" protested William.

"The diplomats here in Jaton don't know me yet Willium. I will need some sort of guard to at least get their cooperation," explained Nebonex. "And then there's the matter that I won't be in the parade since the last parade I was in I was shot at."

"I pray that doesn't happen again," spat Willium.

"I sent word ahead to Waytorn to tell him that he'll be in charge of security," explained Victoria. "We encountered problems in the mountains on the way here and I want to be doubly sure we don't have another incident like that one before Kobalix's Quest."

"Surely the Kinian Army can handle the parades security," protested Willium. "I know you said doubly sure, but after Kobalix's Quest the Army has been sorting through the possibilities and making sure that sort of thing doesn't happen again. Why-"

"For every possibility the Army tries to prevent there are a dozen others they haven't even thought of," interrupted Pothax, usually quiet during political and military matters. "If Kobalix's ex-henchmen are involved, I'm sure black dust will also be involved. If someone planted a barrel of the stuff under the street in a sewer, what could we possibly do to prevent them from lighting it when we go by? There are simply too many variables and possibilities involved for a recently enlightened army to handle."

"While Waytorn's men do have the experience and the numbers to handle the matter," finished Wynic. "Have you heard any news from Jaton or the Stornium Army? Or the Minotaur Empire for that matter?"

Willium nodded sadly. "The Minotaur Empire won't be sending help. They have their own problems in Gitsi and even far-flung Lucasn. They can't get supplies to the mining city of Gitsi because of raiding Ice Tribes. Lucasn has a mutual problem of pirates and Ice tribes preventing supplies from reaching the city," he explained. "The word from Jaton is that King Sear is being encouraged to abdicate and that is complicating his decisions. He hasn't yet decided if he has to go to war or declare martial law. He's taken up the pipe unfortunately. That's a sign to me that he's having a great share of problems and his son's death is hampering him."

"What of Redhawk, Blackaxe and Helen?" demanded Victoria. "How is Redhawk's shoulder? Will he ever swing a sword again?"

"Derick rode ahead with the scouts as I understand and is on his way to meet us. He can explain Redhawk's condition. Other than that we've had no news except that Blackaxe was ambushed in southern Arthian and is now walking with a limp."

"Would you like a tour of my ship?" asked Sir Carlo after Willium left to talk with Savin and Mathex. "She's a real beaut! One of a kind too!"

"Actually," replied Wynic, turning to face the ex-commodore. "I was wondering what you, Roreed and Eluth are doing here? And why?" He looked around the ship deck questioning.

"Elite training. Marines, if you ask me. Amphibious training. We-"

"Isn't amphibians like frogs?" demanded Victoria.

"Well, yes. The basic meaning is all-terrain. We're being trained everything, field tactics, leadership, crossbowship, bowmanship, weapons and their different uses, drills, military law, fitness and whatever else they can think of. Mathex mentioned getting Derick or some other doctor to give a lesson on how to dress wounds and basic anatomy so we know where it will hurt more, or something like that," explained Carlo. "Did I miss anything?" he asked, turning to Brenda.

"To emphasize our special ranks we've been knighted," she replied. She looked at Victoria. "General Chek mentioned something about a certain brigadier giving archery lessons."

Victoria blushed and opened her mouth to reply, but Mathex beat her. "Did Chek also mention a test on the forces current abilities and combat skills? As soon as you arrived in Jaton?" he asked.

Brenda and Carlo looked at each other with blank, stunned expressions. "No," replied Carlo with a fair bit of uncertainty. "What sort of test?"

"I'll need to speak with Wynic, Victoria and Pothax first."

"This is not your average test," spat Carlo, crouching behind an apple tree. The apple orchard was the only available where the terrain varied almost constantly. Some places were steep, some icy some without obstacles to hide behind.

"Shut up," muttered Roreed.

"Why don't you?"

"Me? You're the one making all the noise!"

Brenda smacked the two men over the head, swearing under her breath. "If both of you don't be quiet, I'm going to march out in the open and reveal to Victoria where we all are! Don't even look at one another unless it has to do with the mission!" she hissed.

"What is the mission again?" asked Eluth, his voice barely a whisper.

"Capture the flag without getting caught by Wynic or Pothax or shot by Victoria. What could be simpler? It's a game!" explained Brenda patiently, looking around for signs of the enemy.

"If we could find the flag. Which is impossible when you're stuck with imbeciles!" muttered Roreed.

"And those who can't shut up," said Carlo, rolling behind a rock. he was careful to stay out of Roreed's reach.

"That's it! I'm-" said Brenda, getting to her knees.

"Wait I can see the flag!" whispered Carlo urgently. He pointed frantically at the copse of fur trees to the west. "I can see the red from it!"

"Let's see," whispered Eluth, rolling over the ice to where Carlo was hidden behind a huge rock. "Ya! Das ist es! What a lucky break!"

"Shh!"

"Sorry."

"Eluth," whispered Carlo. "Could you make it to those boulders with all the grape vines? Without getting shot by Victoria?"

"If it's not icy, ya. But that would give our location away. Wouldn't it?"

"That doesn't matter if we want to distract Victoria so Brenda can get into that bush. Roreed and I will support her flanks in the event that Wynic or Pothax show up. After you get to the boulders, circle around behind the trees. Victoria will probably follow so we won't have to worry about getting hit by a blunt arrow."

Eluth nodded and scrambled past Roreed to hide behind an apple tree.

"I'd almost dig a tunnel through the deep snow except that would take too long," Carlo whispered to Brenda. The dame nodded. "By then they'd have caught Eluth and we'd only be half the way to the flag."

"We'll just have to run it. Wait five seconds after Eluth goes before going through. Victoria will have to reload very quickly to get us," explained Roreed, scrambling across the ice to crouch beside Brenda. "Go whenever you want to Eluth," he hissed.

Eluth didn't even nod in reply and simply ran. Carlo heard the sound of an arrow smashing into the ice and splintering. Ice, and from the sound of it Victoria was shooting with enough force to stun a man senseless with her padded arrows.

"Go," spat Roreed.

The three knights raced across the open clearing towards the copse of trees. Carlo heard the sound of an arrow against armour and heard Roreed swear an oath. Victoria was a faster shooter than the knights had thought possibly.

An eruption of powdery snow from a snow drift directly in front of Brenda proved to be Wynic Doxon. He caught the knightess as her momentum pulled her into his arms. Carlo was the only one left.

The knight pushed through the branches and into the inner clearing. He looked around frantically for the flag. Where was it?

Pothax snatched his red scarf from a tree limb. "Decoy worked," he smiled as he tied it around his neck. "Are you the only one left?" he asked.

Carlo tried to turn around frantically, but his boots slipped on the ice underfoot. He fell to the ground, knowing they had failed the test. Pothax reached down and poked him in the chest.

"Test over. You failed, I'm afraid."

"Not exactly," said Victoria, pushing through the tree branches. She held up the flag in one hand. "Eluth found it in the boulder pile. If they had failed they would have all charged the decoy instead of making a distraction."

"Why didn't you shoot at me again if you knew I'd find it?" demanded Eluth, pushing through the branches behind Wynic and followed by Brenda and Roreed. "Instead you shot Roreed!" "If she didn't, one of you might have realized the decoy and escaped our trap," Wynic explained. "I nearly froze my butt off in that snow drift for almost half an hour! Let's get back to camp and report that you passed. Not the way you would have preferred to, but you passed the test nevertheless."

"You want me to wear a cape?" asked Wynic. He studied the red cape dubiously. "Why? They always get in the way!"

"Willium explained that it's in fashion and that commoners find capes dashing. Red makes a person look more aggressive so Willium picked out a red cape for each of us to wear," Victoria explained, tying the crimson cape to her shoulder plates. "He also said something about calling us the Crimson Companions so the bards have something to call us. There. How do I look?" she asked, striking a pose.

"Dashing," Wynic replied sarcastically. "So we have to go through the trouble of getting these damn things unsnagged from the saddle everytime we turn around? Just for morale's sake?" He tied the cape loosely to his cloak and frowned. "It doesn't feel right. I better take it off."

"That's because it's too loose," remarked Victoria. "Here let me tie it tighter. I can-"

"No! Any tighter and the damn thing will feel like a noose! I'd rather look like a fool than not being able to breath!"

"Don't be such a baby!"

"Ya. Don't be such a baby, Wynic," smiled Pothax, throwing back the tent flap. "I for one am in favour of the cape. Quite a fashion statement, don't you think, Victoria?"

"If you wear it properly," grunted Victoria. She tied the straps tighter and stepped back to admire. Wynic pretended to gag from lack of air.

"What's wrong with Wynic?" whispered Derick. He pointed at the assassin astride a gelding. Wynic had a resigned, pouty expression on his face.

"He says the cape fees like a noose and that he can't breath that well," explained Willium. "I think he just doesn't like being stared at and I tend to agree. I've had people stare at me all my life it seems and it got to be a huge nuisance. Then one day, I-"

"Hey, I heard this story," exclaimed Derick. "Some courtier thought it impolite to stare at your majesty and you rewarded him. Since then all the courtiers have been very careful not look at you directly in hopes of getting rewarded."

"Exactly. A story. An idea Gith gave me and it worked, thank God. I don't think it will work in Wynic's case though." Willium sighed. "Oh, how's Redhawk? Where is he?"

"Redhawk's looking for Wynic and Wynic's looking for Redhawk. You'd think they'd eventually bump into each other, but they 'aven't yet. Go figure." Derick paused and spoke in a lower tone. "As for his shoulder, I re-examined it before we left Glist. There are a few fractures that 'aven't healed yet, but he'll be okay as long as he doesn't try to lift anything too heavy. If he does the fracture may get bigger or even break. Plus there's still piece of the spear point lodged in there. That's a major problem because he has a multiple fracture in one bone. If that one breaks, it won't heal back without some major surgery."

"Does Redhawk know this?"

"Oui. So does Wynic, but Redhawk forbade me to tell Victoria since she always fusses over Redhawk's shoulder," Derick snorted and studied the steam in front of his nose.

Willium nodded in understanding. "I've seen Victoria pestering Wynic about his ribs and it doesn't surprise me that Redhawk wants to avoid that sort of treatment. Did you examine Wynic's ribs?"

"Oui, they've healed quite nicely which isn't surprising since it was a clean break. I still say he's lucky. Most people would be dead after falling a 'undred feet and landing in a lake. He got away with only a couple broken ribs."

The huge bronze gates opened slowly and Wynic's huge black gelding stepped tentatively forward. The crowd gathered in the streets cheered wildly at the sight of the Paladin Assassin and the warhorse flattened its ears and bared its teeth. Wynic coaxed it forward soothingly and nudged the horse's flanks.

The gates opened wider and the chill wind tore at Victoria's long brown hair and cape. "Pothax," she hissed harshly. "Have you seen Redhawk."

The cutthroat shrugged and maintained his grip on his black stallion. The horses weren't used to screaming crowds and neither were they prepared. "He's supposed to be coming, but I haven't seen him. Which reminds me; what happened to Dillard and Rades?"

Wynic shrugged. "They went through one of the mountain passes. If the pass got closed down because of an avalanche it could be another month before they arrive."

"Wynic," shouted a deeply accented Kinian voice. "Sorry, I'm late. I saw this group of circus people and I had some difficulty convincing them to be in this parade."

"Redhawk!" cried Victoria, turning in her saddle to face the huge Kinian knight riding up to join them. "How are you? How's your shoulder feeling? Did you have any problems on the trip north?"

"Fine, fine and yes," snorted the Kinian. "We'll have to leave all that until later. We're being watched right now." Redhawk smiled and waved at the gathered populous.

Wynic grinned and drew his bastardsword. He held the heavy platinum sword overhead and waved it at the crowds of people. The sun's rays caught the blade and it shone like a miniature sun.