The Arthian Throne room was crowded so much that details about the companions surroundings were limited to the ceiling which was painted off white. Nebonex, Willium and Jacog stood upon a hastily built dais. Present were chancellor Adams, Sir Dillard, General Gisoni, his Lieutenant-General, Pollex, the Arthian Field Marshal Pegs, the Colnic Field Marshal Sahos and many more generals and middle ranks. Redhawk, Wynic, Victoria and Pothax stood off to one side of the dais. Several Lords and Ladies were present for no particular reason, with the exception of Lady Bardelias who was there for the younger soldiers.

Wynic had previously warned Pothax to steer clear of Lady Bardelias and to remember he was with a different breed of people than he was used to. "For instance don't place a hand on your sword, it could be mistaken as a challenge to a duel," he had explained earlier.

Nebonex thumped the haft of his father's trident against the dais and King Willium called for silence. "Fellow respected leaders," Willium boomed out across the crowd. "Emporer Nebonex was assassinated and we, Arthians stand accused. Because of that, the Minotaur Empire has declared war. It has been proven that the late Emperor's brother, Kobalix, was responsible for the assassination. We must find a way to prove to the Minotaur Empress that Kobalix is a traitor to the Empire. We welcome your suggestions. We wish to evade this war with the least bloodshed. Even as we speak though the Minotaur Army is fighting its way here!"

The crowd was silent.

Wynic looked around at the thoughtful faces and realized these people were more dumbfounded at the thought of war than the thought of how to evade it. They needed something to get the ball rolling in the right direction.

"We could send Prince Nebonex to talk to the Empress," suggested a Colnic knight.

"Too dangerous. Kobalix wants him dead too. That incident during the parade at Nebonex's arrival was an assassination attempt on the Prince," replied Jacog.

"We could get the Empress to come to him," suggested another knight.

"I doubt they'd trust us enough and how would we get the message there without Kobalix intercepting it?" asked Jacog.

"If the Empress is going with the Army, why don't we paint the message on the city walls," replied Sahos.

"That's an interesting idea, Sahos," replied Willium. "Any further suggestions before we adjourn to the conference room to discuss the matter?"

"Is there any way to delay the Minotaur Army?" asked Adams.

"I'm afraid not, though the idea has merit, since we are stressed for time," said Willium sadly.

"This meeting is over. Will the prerequested people please assemble in the dining hall," shouted Jacog.

"I won't go," said Wynic stubbornly.

"Wynic, we knew you'd say that, which is why we want you to do this, so please wait until after we explain before you decide," said Willium. "You have an uncommon power of persuasion, Wynic, which you probably don't know about. You don't have the ability to play with words like some crafty politician, but you're stubborn. I want you to go down to Glist and demand, as stubbornly as you can, that we desperately need the Stornium Knights, the other half of the Stornium Army and Blackaxe's army of course, as soon as possible. In war time means lives, and we desperately need lives!"

Wynic slumped in defeat. They'd cornered him with words. "All right, I'll go," he sulked.

"Lord Redhawk and an escort of two Arthian Knights will accompany you. I suggest you leave immediately," said Nebonex. "Because time-"

"-means lives," finished Wynic, interrupting the Prince and standing up. "I'll leave now."

"Wynic," said Victoria.

"Yes?" he answered, buckling on his shortsword.

"Wynic, I want you to promise me that no matter what happens you'll come back alive," Victoria said, a tear forming.

"I fully intend to come back alive," replied Wynic. "If you promise to still be here to greet me when I get back," he said, putting his arms around her.

"I do."

Wynic tried to bring himself to ask her, but he couldn't and kissed her instead. "Could you help me lash Gith's sword to my back, I keep hitting myself in the head with the crossbar."

"Why didn't you ask her?" asked Redhawk from across the campfire that night. The two Arthian Knights slept from after taking the first watch since Redhawk and Wynic had taken the last watch, because of Wynic's late night awakenings.

"Ask who what?" asked Wynic, pretending not to know what Redhawk was talking about.

"Victoria, of course. You've been wanting to ask her to marry you for the last week, haven't you?" demanded Redhawk, pulling out a bottle of brandy.

"Yes," replied the assassin, staring into the fire. "I can't seem to find the right time to ask her," he mumbled.

Redhawk would have said the assassin was scared but decided against it. He valued Wynic's friendship too much to come between Wynic and Victoria, and risk losing their friendship. Tugging on his mustaches, he decided to change the subject. "I wonder what Queen Helen really looks like. She's supposed to be the most beautiful woman in the world, but I doubt it. It's probably made up to make the monarchy look better!"

"And if she is? Maybe you should become her champion?" laughed Wynic, rising to inspect the horses.

Redhawk snorted brandy out his nose and laughed out loud. Wynic looked at the knight with brandy frothing out his nose and shook his head.

"Can't you two keep quiet," muttered one of the Arthian knights.

"Wake up! It's breaking the fast time!" shouted Wynic. "Stir up the fire and put some bacon in the pan, Redhawk," he said, making sure the horses were securely tethered.

Redhawk nodded, took a swig of brandy, and spat it out on the fire. The fire rose immediately.

The great wheat fields of Athex lay before the Minotaur Army. The army was branching out into groups of two legions, brigadiers and upper ranks leading the small armies. Three hundred groups total made this the greatest army to walk the world since the Fall of the Last Vormian Dynasty.

"Mathex, do you have the designs for your weapon made? The Empress wishes to see them," said Atreneth, sprinting up to run beside the brigadier.

"I have several designs made, but I haven't had the time to perfect them," replied Mathex.

"Doesn't matter, she just wants to see your progress since we left Evicoth."

"These are very good designs, brigadier. I think your teachers would be proud," complimented Gwen, truly impressed.

"They're crude designs Empress, I haven't had time to perfect them yet," said Mathex modestly.

"Make that very proud."

"Thank you Empress, your compliment is most valued for one of my low status," said Mathex.

"Status, smatus! Any ding-a-ling could tell you have an extraordinary gift. I'd be a stupid fool not to say so," Gwen grinned, running beside the brigadier.

"Thank you Empress," said Mathex, totally off guard by Gwen's unusual charm.

Pothax couldn't understand it. he had spied on several small minotaur forces already. Why had the Minotaur Army split up into hundreds of smaller groups? It didn't make sense!

Seeing the now familiar cloud of dust down the road, Pothax hastily hid his horse in a clearing a hundred yards from the road, and climbed a huge Arthian maple which leaned over the road.

The two Minotaur legions entered the bush cautiously. This was the most possible place for an ambush within five leagues. Fanning out fifty yards on either side of the road, the legion continued through the maple bush.

As the group passed beneath the tree, Pothax noticed a minotaur working on a design for an oversized crossbow on a piece of parchment. Noting the potential power of a crossbow, Pothax decided that this had to be Mathex.

When the legion disappeared behind the next rise of wheat. Pothax climbed down, retrieved his horse, and followed the two legions.

Sneaking into the Minotaur camp that night was a difficult matter. There were two hundred minotaurs standing guard around the camp. Were two hundred until Pothax knocked one over the head, and crept further into the camp, knowing that all he had to do was snap a twig, and he'd be dead.

Thanking the Lord that the minotaurs use tents, Pothax crept up to Mathex's tent without being even heard. Probably because wet minotaurs don't smell good," he thought with a grin and looked at the dark clouds overhead.

Looking inside the tent, Pothax thanked the gods again. Mathex wasn't inside. Quickly lifting the tent flap and walking in, the cutthroat knelt down and began rummaging through Mathex's pack.

Finding the designs, Pothax noted that only one was apparently a finished design. Stuffing the finished design in his pouch, he returned the other designs and arranged the things inside the way he had found them.

Hearing the sound of approaching boots, the cutthroat hid in the corner of the tent where the shadows hid him. Seeing the silhouette of a minotaur march by the tent, he relaxed.

Mathex opened the tent flap and stepped inside.

Startled Pothax fell backwards, and caught himself with one hand behind him. The grass was cold and wet from dew. Grass?

Mathex was reaching for a lantern.

Looking closer, Pothax saw a huge rip in the tent moonlight leaking inside where his hand was. Moving silently so Mathex couldn't hear him, the cutthroat slid between the canvas and slowly stood up.

"Damn that was close," he thought.

Sneaking out of the camp, Pothax untethered his horse and began the ride back to Athex.