"Fire the giant crossbows," ordered Sahos. General Pegs gave a similar order and soon it appeared that the minotaurs would be routed. However King Sear was not one to be fooled. Riding down the northern hill, he had stopped to inspect the smoldering remains of an assault tower.

No corpses, not a drop of blood.

"Atreneth committed suicide, Empress," reported Mathex. "We found his body. He took cyanide by the looks of the foam in his mouth. If I may add, I think he was obsess with using black dirt in the military. It has certain mining aspects, I must admit, but is too dangerous to use in warfare. Fortunately Kobalix discovered it, and we managed to abandon the assault towers and escape a major catastrophe."

"Contact Damoti," replied Gwen, obviously distraught. "He can suitably replace Atreneth."

"Yes, Empress." Mathex turned on his heel, and marched out of her tent.

"Kobalix sat in a dark corner of the Empress' tent, silently thinking.

"I made it very clear to Atreneth that black dirt was forbidden. Only you or I could give him the order to use it. So who'd give him that order?" wondered Gwen out loud.

"Perhaps he was working for the Arthians. That would explain how they got the designs for the giant crossbow," suggested Kobalix. "Maybe he realized what he had done, only too late and killed himself."

"It doesn't matter. We didn't lose any minotaurs in the battle," said Gwen. "Tell Damoti to order more assault towers built, and to speed up the assembly of those giant crossbows."

Kobalix nodded. His spy in Athex had barely sent the message in time for him to change his plans. The fact that the Arthians had the giant crossbow changed his plans drastically, but, nevertheless, he had nothing to worry about. Everything was going as planned.

"I've decided to use an assembly line. We can manufacture them three times faster, though the quality and aim might be a little less," explained Damoti.

"When will you be done?" asked Gwen.

"Less than four days," replied Damoti. "I've received reports that the Stornium Army and Blackaxe's army will arrive in two or three days. With your permission, we could meet them in the field and destroy them."

"Perhaps."

"You said you had information where that other army is from?" said Kobalix, though he already knew the answer.

"It belongs to a King Waytorn, where he's from the spies aren't sure, but they say his army is practiced killers, perfectionists at the art of killing. They lack morals and embrace killing whole heartedly."

"Kobalix struggled not to smile. He feigned paleness. "How many?"

"The spies predict four hundred thousand. We might need some allies if we expect to win."

"What if I found a way to get rid of this Waytorn's army?" asked Kobalix. "And what would the Arthians do if we attacked the Stornium armies?"

"I don't see how you could get rid of Waytorn's army. But if we attacked the Storniums the Arthians would probably rush out into the field to assist them. That could be a potential trap."

"I'll handle the allies. Ice Folk attacking Kinian and Tigalos mercenaries attacking Stornium. Skip building those crossbows. Dig ditches and start fortifying this hill," ordered Kobalix, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Gwen asked.

"I've heard of Waytorn before. He has an enemy north of here. If I can convince that army to attack, we can distract him."

"Skip the damn formalities, Willium," roared King Sear, sitting down. Gathered in the dining hall was Sahos, Pegs, Elexenia, Jacog, Dillard, Gisoni, Pollex, Victoria, Willium, Pothax, Nebonex, Rades, Stornium General Chek, and Waytorn. Also present was several of the princes and princesses of Kinian plus a young blond man with a big nose, emerald eyes, and dressed in a simple tunic and pants. Sear had introduced him as Derick.

"My men tell me that Empress Gwen had forbidden the use of black dirt, and that the Lord Marshall killed himself after disobeying her orders," said Waytorn, absently rubbing his scars.

"Whatever the case, they now know we have giant crossbows, but it was the price we had to pay," said Dillard. "What I'd like to know is how they knew we were aiming at the assault towers and abandoned them so quickly? They must have had a spy somewhere in the city!"

"Never mind that! Waytorn," said Nebonex. "Could your and your men handle the water front? All of it?"

"Easily."

"Good," Nebonex said, turning to King Sear. "Sear, you're in command of both your army and the knights?"

"We don't believe in Field Marshals. Kinian monarchs prefer to know exactly what's going on," replied Sear.

"You can be in charge of Northgate. Sahos, general Chek, the two of you can handle Westgate, I presume?"

Sahos and Chek glanced at each other and nodded.

"Dillard, Gisoni, you will join Pegs in defending Southgate," Nebonex ordered. "Pothax. Could you and a few of Waytorn's men sneak into the minotaur's camp and tamper with their giant crossbows. I want that delayed if possible!"

"Of course I can," replied Pothax confidently.

One of Waytorn's henchmen was admitted by a guard, and he spoke at great length to Waytorn apart from the rest. The King Culprit dismissed the man and returned to his seat slightly pale. "We have another army against us," he said sourly.

Everyone was shouting at once until King Sear finally lost his temper and screamed: "Fermez votre bouche!" Everyone stopped and stared at him.

"That's better," he said. "Waytorn, please explain."

Kobalix has recruited three hundred thousand mercenaries and has been keeping them in Kaliff until now. He has them about twenty leagues out in the centre of Vormian lake, waiting for a signal from him," explained Waytorn.

"Do you think you can hold the water front?" asked Willium worried.

"Oh, yes. Nothing could get past us, but if they come ashore the rest of you are in trouble."

"There's nothing we can do until the Storniums arrive," sighed Nebonex. "We'll meet again tomorrow morning in case anything else comes up."

Victoria," yelled Willium.

"What she asked, turning in the doorway of the dining hall.

"This is Lord Redhawk's squire. He's just finished his training, and he arrived with King Sear. Could you and Pothax take care of him?" he asked, gesturing to Derick. "Until Redhawk returns?"

"Sure, come on, Derick. Devid, Wynic's retainer has the night off so we'll have to go to a tavern if you want to eat." The squire nodded silently and followed.

"Hey Billip! Dinner and a bottle of Kinian Red for me and the lad here," yelled Victoria, standing in the doorway of the Drunken Dragon Tavern. Making her way through the crowded room to her favorite booth, she waved at Rades in the booth next to her's.

Billip bustled over to them, set down two plates of food, a bottle of wine and two clay goblets. the plates were almost overflowing with fish, corn, fresh garlic bread, and the specialty, onion rings dipped in batter.

"You're going to eat those!" exclaimed Derick, after Billip waddled away.

"These?" said Victoria, pointing at the onion rings. "They're quite good. Try some," she offered.

"They're covered with fat!"

"Well, I suppose they are, but they taste good. Why do you care?"

"I'm an apprentice doctor."

"I thought you were a squire?"

"Um, I'm both. My pa wanted me to be a squire, because he was a squire to the Redhawks and his father before him also. It's sort of a tradition."

"Why both?"

"I agreed with my pa that I'd carry on the tradition, if he allowed me to be apprenticed to the local doctor, until I was old enough to be a squire."

"Why'd he let you?"

"He thought that if I knew how to bandage wounds, and know where the heart, the lungs, and the liver was, that I'd be a more effective squire. He was quite proud of that."

"So what's this got to do with me eating onion rings?"

"They're not good for you."

"Would you prefer if I gorged myself on candy?"

"Well-"

Victoria shoved an onion ring in his mouth. "Now don't spit it out, it's bad table manners and I'd probably slap you if you did!"

Derick shut his mouth, and chewed. A grin slowly edged itself across his face and he reached for more onion rings.

Rades smiled at D'arcy and stood up. He helped her into the booth and sat down across from her. "Shall we eat?" he asked, looking at her admiringly.

D'arcy smiled and nodded. She was wearing a red, almost crimson, dress. It was cut low above her breasts and there was a cut up the side to display her shapely, long legs. She was barefoot, Rades noticed suddenly when her foot touched his boot under the table.

"Good, I've already ordered. I hope you like venison?"

"I love it!" she smiled and giggled. Rades felt his face go red, again.

Later that night, Rades paid the bill, waved to Victoria who'd waved at him earlier, and led D'arcy outside to get some fresh air. The lieutenant was barely out the door when D'arcy practically threw herself onto him, her lips clinging to his. He pulled apart from her, reluctantly. "Not here," he whispered lustfully.

D'arcy giggled and grabbed his hand. She led him down the street to an inn, where within minutes they were within each other's comforting embrace.

D'arcy pulled the drawstring of her dress and slipped the garment over her head, revealing creamy, white breasts. She pulled Rades closer and began untying his shirt. She moaned softly as Rades reached down between her legs and hucked the petticoat up around her hips. Her skin was silky soft to the touch.

The lieutenant groaned softly as she pulled his belt off and slipped a eager hand into his pants. The two lovers made love well into the night until they collapsed, exhausted in each others arms.

"Someone's coming," whispered Pothax, diving behind a giant crossbow. Waytorn's men instantly, hid behind the other giant crossbows.

The sound of approaching minotaurs was quite unnerving, and Pothax held his breathe, when a group of fifty minotaurs passed by him. Breathing a sigh of relief, Pothax motioned the rest to follow him.

Passing by a tent, he heard two minotaurs arguing. One of the voices were familiar. "Go ahead, I'll catch up," he ordered. Waytorn's men silently acknowledged him, and crept away into the darkness.

Putting his ear up to the canvas, Pothax listened.

"Just follow your orders. I want you to shoot her as soon as she steps onto the rostrum. You'll lead anybody who follows you to the other side of the camp, hide, and change back into your uniform. Then you'll join in pursuing yourself. No one will suspect you, and I'll pay you in full," explained the familiar voice, sounding irritated.

"What if the Empress doesn't make a speech tomorrow?" asked a plaintive voice.

"Then we'll wait, won't we?" said the first voice. The voice that sounded like Nebonex.

Looking around the corner of the tent, Pothax watched Kobalix step out.

Rades felt movement to his side, and the sensation of being lifted. One eye fluttered open. Only to be punched. Punched?

"Was ist es?" he shouted in old Stornium, struggling.

"Oh, shit-"

Rades felt a hard jarring impact as he landed. The floor was cold and the fact he was naked didn't help. He forced his eyes open and swung around blindly in the dark. His fist made contact with a knee.

A large form fell over him, but he managed to crawl out from under the struggling form. He swung around blindly, this time feeling something familiar; D'arcy's breast.

She slapped him, and he fell backwards into the wall. Shaking his head, the Stornium leapt forward, blindly, and connected a fist with someone's face.

Someone shuffled off to one side and he swung out at the sound. Instead, his fist connected solidly with a stone wall. He slowly forced himself to ignore the pain in his hand and concentrate on the pain in his back after someone hit him with the flat of a sword. He flailed around wildly, connecting with a head.

His eyes were finally beginning to adjust to the light. D'arcy appeared before him, anger in her eyes, and punched him in the chin.

Rades barely flinched. His hand snaked out and grabbed hold of her. "What are you doing?" he yelled.

D'arcy snarled and flailed at his face, scratching him.

The Stornium promptly knocked her over the head. She fell into his arms unconscious. Now that he could see, he glanced around in what appeared to be a wine cellar. A chair with rope slung over it beckoned to him and he laid her there, tying her firmly. Two men and a tall woman lay scattered around the room. He tied them up too.

He fell asleep wondering at how she had spied on him, betrayed him, and seduced him. He felt like a fool.