"Wynic, I keep having this feeling were being watched," sighed Redhawk, leaning back in his saddle. He stretched his arms lazily.

"I know," muttered Wynic, looking around the seemingly empty landscape.

The Arthian plains were endless fields of wheat tended by peasants. Every so often a small village or an estate or castle would appear and disappear on the horizon. Dotted herds of buffalo and aurochs proved the bulk of the beasts were already heading south for the winter. There was the occasional copse of Arthian maples, beech or poplar. Large forests were rare this far from lake Vormia.

"I wonder if the Arthian Knights have been having the same feeling?" Redhawk spurred his horse to a gallop.

Wynic shrugged and followed. He'd known Redhawk long enough to know the knight isn't paranoid. If anything it made a bit of sense that someone might have sent a spy after them.

"We've been having the same feelings. There's a poplar forest ahead, what do you say to trusting our instincts and ride through there at a full gallop with our swords drawn?" asked the stockier of the two knights.

"Agreed." Redhawk drew his longsword.

"Try to stay at least twenty yards away from each other, that way they can only surprise one person when and if they jump us. I'll go first," said the other Arthian. he drew his sword, and galloping ahead.

The four men rode ahead, and entered the forest. Wynic entered last, and drew Gith's sword. He was half way through when the first knight slumped over, and fell from his horse with a crossbow bolt in his chest.

Spurring his horse harder, Wynic nearly reached the forest edge when a second bolt struck his horse. Grabbing his saddlebags with his free hand, the assassin vaulted from the saddle and landed at a run. Quickly mounting the dead knight's warhorse, he threw his saddlebags over the saddle horn and spurred the horse to a gallop.

Reaching the edge of the forest, the assassin heard the thunder of hooves. He turned in dread to see fifty or more minotaurs stampeding across the open plain. The three men watched as the ground was churned into mud.

"In the name of Stornium, charge!"

"Redhawk looked around, but couldn't see anyone who could have yelled such an order. He wondered briefly if he'd imagined it.

But the minotaurs apparently could see the threat, and immediately stopped and stampeded eastward instead.

Far in the distance, so far that they were barely specks of purple and yellow, was half of the Stornium Army. The huge Stornium warhorses charged across the open plain, and passed by the three men, who stared in silence.

Riding up to Redhawk, a man in a plumed hat, black armour, and purple cape, leapt from his horse, and bowed with a flourish.

"I am General Chek of the Royal Stornium Army, at your service," he said, removing his hat. General Chek was bald with steely blue eyes and seemed to have a grin from one ear to the other.

"Lord Redhawk," said the Kinian Knight. "This is Sir Flek, and Wynic Doxon."

"The Paladin Assassin," murmured Chek, staring a bit openly at Wynic.

"The what?" asked Wynic.

"The Paladin Assassin, that's what you're called in Stornium," explained Chek. "And Lord Redhawk has quite a reputation himself in Stornium, he's referred to as the Red Knight, just like Lord Blackaxe is referred to as the Black Knight," he grinned.

"General Chek, could you provide us with an escort of fifty men to take us to Glist, in exchange for Sir Flek, he's starting to get homesick for his wife's embrace," asked Wynic, sheathing his sword.

"Deal."

"Queen Helen," said a maid at the door. She looked at the Queen hopefully, knowing her news would rid the Queen of her melancholy.

Helen woke, pulled a flimsy negligee over her naked body, and went to the door. "What ist it? I don't usually rise at this hour," she asked the maid.

"We've received a message that the Red Knight and the Paladin Assassin have entered the city and are heading this way to speak with you," answered the maid with a small smile.

"Go to the closet and find a turquoise gown. It has no shoulders and ruffled upper sleeves with silver trim," Helen ordered, sitting down at her desk. Opening a drawer, she picked out a simple silver circlet, and an elegant platinum-silver alloy necklace with a semi-precious turquoise gem. Taking an ivory brush that was a gift from a Prince of Tigalo, she began to straighten out her sleep tangled hair. She absently cursed bed-head.

The maid returned with the gown, helped Helen into it and fastened the straps on the back. Picking up the necklace, she fastened it around Helen's neck.

Adjusting the necklace so it was just above her milky white breasts, Helen turned to the maid.

"Your crown, Majesty," said the maid, handing the circlet to Helen.

"Well, you can't say I didn't try," sighed Helen, placing the crown firmly upon her head.

"May the Lord curse anyone who isn't struck by your beauty," mumbled the maid.

"Gentlemen be cautioned, because beyond this door sits the Queen of Stornium, rumored to also be the Queen of Beauty," said the Captain of the Royal Guard with a grin. "Some men have become so impassioned that we've had to drag them her Majesty's presence," he said, poking his lieutenant, who blushed.

"Just open the damn door," growled Redhawk, threatening.

"Okay, but I warned you!" replied the Captain,, standing off to the side, and motioning a guard to open the door. As the guard opened the door, Redhawk gasped in amazement.

Wynic glanced at the huge knight wondering what could affect him so. Then he looked at the Queen.

Even from across the huge Throne room she was wonderfully gorgeous. She was wearing a turquoise gown with ruffled sleeves and no shoulders. The front of her gown was cut just above her breasts, which gave tantalizing glimpses of her soft flesh. Her hair seemed to flow from her head; it shined radiantly. her eyes fluttered intriguingly.

"And the angels each gave her one quality and one curse, but they each cursed her with the power to possess a man's soul, and so it seemed the curse is not an unbearable one after all," recited the Kinian, his lips barely moving and his chest ceasing to rise and fall.

Wynic hadn't heard that story for years and glanced at the knight, terribly worried. Slapping Redhawk on the back, he whispered, "Snap out of it! You're embarrassing yourself!"

Redhawk shook his head, and looked around the throne room, but his eyes kept darting back to Helen.

"Queen Helen, we are truly pressed for time, so please forgive me if I seem uncivilized," said Wynic, approaching the throne.

"Continue," replied Helen, her voice light and somewhat musical.

"Why didn't you send all of your army, we greatly need it?" asked Wynic.

"Is that why you journeyed so far? Don't you know Stornium has been at the brink of a war with the Tigalos for the past nine years?" demanded Helen fiercely.

"Tigalos doesn't have a navy even if they did decide to attack. Your Royal Guard and the City Guard could easily defend you against anything Tigalos could rustle up. Besides Tigalo has a civil war every three years, if they declared war, they'd probably have a civil war before they could launch their ships," argued Wynic. "In addition, you are allied with Arthian and therefore must send as much aid as possible!"

"I'll make you a deal, Wynic," said Helen shrewdly. "I'll send my army if you two agree to stay as my guests. It's been awhile since I've had an interesting guest!"

"I'd love to your Majesty," said Redhawk, looking up.

"But I'm afraid we have to go to Lord Blackaxe's castle," refused Wynic.

"Doesn't matter. What do you say Lord Redhawk?"

"If you insist."

"It's settled then. Lord Redhawk, I'll have a chamber prepared for you immediately. Wynic, if you talk to the captain out in the hall, he can give you directions to Lord Blackaxe's castle," said Helen, stepping daintily down from her huge throne.

"Bye, Wynic," waved Redhawk, following Helen from the room.

Wynic stood there and tried to sort through what had just occurred. Finally he gave up, shrugged, and left to find the Captain.

"Redhawk are you lonely?' asked Helen cautiously.

The knight was very aware of the beautiful Queen's body leaning against his, and especially aware of the intoxicating scent that came from her and from the surrounding garden. He felt his face grow red as he continued to polish his longsword. "Me? I'm too busy half the time to be lonely, and that's rare when you live in Athex with five million other people.

"Neun, I mean are you looking for a wife? I've found myself looking for a husband. I'm kind of looking for advice," said Helen, looking up at him. Her eyes fluttered.

Redhawk groaned inwardly. Either subtle wasn't in the Queen's vocabulary, or was this her normal procedure for courtship. "You?" he exclaimed. "I'd think you'd have miles of suitors lined up at the door!" He picked up his breastplate and eyed it critically. Taking out a small hammer, he turned the breastplate over and began lightly tapping a dent back into place.

"I'm afraid not. I don't have a single suitor."

Redhawk had to admit that if she'd wanted him to feel guilty now she'd gotten her wish. "I'm a suitor, what's wrong with me?" asked Redhawk, a bit hurt.

"You? I never even thought of you!" she exclaimed.

Redhawk nodded, knowing this to be a complete lie.

"My father, Lord bless him, passed a law that I can't marry anyone who isn't Stornium nobility. It was his way of insuring that I marry Lord Blackaxe. And it nearly worked, except the Blackaxe family has always been a proud, ego sort. He wanted power, but being ambitious, he wanted to work for it. Oh, we loved each other, still do, but we weren't lovers, you understand?"

Redhawk nodded and listened intently, while rubbing his breastplate with an oiled cloth.

"Now look at Blackaxe, he's one of the most powerful men in the world. But that wasn't even his real goal, merely a stepping stone!"

"What was it then?"

"The Swathick Axe. He's wanted it since he first heard that damn poem!"

"Well, that's silly, the poem doesn't even rhyme, and some say there never was a Swathick Axe!"

"Blackaxe says the reason why it doesn't rhyme and is still around even though the Last Vormian Dynasty was three millennia ago is because it's true," Helen replied. "Anyways," she said, changing the subject. "I could get rid of that pesky law. What would you say to courting me?"

Redhawk didn't even have to think about it. "I'd love to!"

"Great, it's settled then!" She thrust her head forward and kissed the Kinian.

Redhawk breathed in her scent until he couldn't stand it any more. His breastplate clattered to the floor unnoticed.

"Where's Pothax, I want to hire him," growled Nebonex, crushing the note angrily and throwing it over the battlements as far as he could. Which was pretty far.

"We can't do that or we'll never be able to prove to your mother what he really is!" protested Victoria. She liked his idea as she was a bit worried about Wynic, but she also held faith that the assassin was probably better than okay.

Nebonex swore and kicked the wall, knocking a large rock loose.

"Now what do we do?" asked Dillard.

"We try to think of another way to warn the Empress," sighed Pollex.

"I wonder," mumbled Gisoni thoughtfully.

What?" Nebonex demanded.

"I wonder what the Empress would think if we said "Kobalix is a traitor to the Empire" as many times as we could," explained the minotaur general. "Hang banners saying that and perhaps create a marching tune which said that and other important facts as well."

"She'd probably think we're nuts, but I'll wager she'd start watching Kobalix more carefully," said Willium.

"Well, then it's worth a try isn't it?" asked Gisoni hopefully.

"I don't see why not," Willium replied. "We don't have a better plan other than surrendering or fleeing the city."