"Apparently Kobalix chose that cove for three reasons, it is easily defensible and hard to get to because of all the cliffs. However, it also has a citadel that dates back to the Last Vormian Dynasty," said Pothax, drawing a crude map with a piece of charcoal and parchment.

"How high are the walls?" demanded Willium.

"Well over a hundred feet."

Willium swore.

"What is it?" asked Victoria with a glance at the map.

"Back before the Fall, one of the Vormian Emperors built some of the greatest cities in the world, including Athex. He was obsessed with vastness and his castles and fortresses could be seen leagues away. To help in the building he started exploring ways to better use black dirt, for construction purposes of course. He got the black dirt from a cave, which was in a pit with steep walls. To make it easier to get at the cave he had a tunnel dug so wagons could go down the tunnel, get loaded up with black dirt, and be transported to the Capitol, which had a population much like Athex does now. He had a huge citadel built to defend the cave and where he could mix the ingredients from the cave: sulphur, charcoal and saltpeter. Supposedly, when one of the wagons caught fire it caused a domino reaction until it reached the warehouses where the black dirt was kept," explained Willium.

"Enough to leave a crater that later turned into Lake Vormia," concluded Dillard.

"So Athex and this mine barely escaped the disaster?" asked Gisoni.

"If the explosion had reached the mine shaft and if the three ingredients were close enough together, which it nearly did, it would have blown Arthian and parts of Colnic sky high," said Mathex. "That's assuming they'd only mined it halfway. Who knows how much could be down there?"

"In other words, if we attack this cove Kobalix will threaten to destroy Arthian," concluded Sahos. "If we go there with a large force and demand that he surrender, that's what he'll do!"

"Are you suggesting something in alternative? asked Jacog.

"I was about to! We send a group of warriors in there, past Kobalix's men, capture Kobalix and somehow collapse that mine shaft. Permanently if possible," explained Sahos.

"Wouldn't it be easier just sending our armies in there?" asked Sardias"

"Not if Kobalix decides to destroy Arthian if he sees anything remotely resembling an army." Sahos looked pointedly at Wynic and Pothax. "I believe the Doxon's will go."

Wynic started to object, but Dillard poked him in the ribs. "Rades and I'll go," he said with a glance at the lieutenant. Rades nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay, who else do we send?" demanded Nebonex, once again assuming command.

"You've grown my son," murmured Gwen thoughtfully beneath her breath.

"Blackaxe and his Swathick Axe for sure!" said Pegs.

"All who want to volunteer, raise your hand," said Victoria. She raised her hand.

Derick, Waytorn and Sardias all raised their hands. "I'll bring twenty of my finest killers," promised Waytorn.

"Um, Sardias," said Wynic, "did you draft the Stornium Navy and bring them too?"

"Of course, desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Good, add Commodore Carlo to the list then. Blackaxe, find a Brigadier Roreed and a Colonel Eluth. I could trust those three with the universe without a second thought."

"Good," said Nebonex, "thirty-two warriors should be able to handle the task. I trust you all will be ready by tomorrow morning?"

"Quit complaining," snapped Wynic. Pothax, Victoria, the assassin and Devid had all linked hands underneath Redhawk and were carrying the huge knight up stairs. Derick had went ahead of them with several servants to clear anything out of the way for the group. Wynic had already tripped over a Third Dynasty vase and broke it.

"Who's going to take care of me if Derick leaves?" asked Redhawk plaintively.

"Your squire has instructed me of what to do. I'm to clean the wound daily with boiled water and rebandage it with clean strips of rough cloth," grunted Devid. "And he also told me to change your diet, because you're getting fat."

"Am not!" protested Redhawk.

"Are too!" said everyone carrying Redhawk in unison.

"But I need food to keep my strength up," he protested.

"You don't need that much. I've seen pigs that don't eat half as much as you," grunted Pothax, warily stepping over a vase a servant had neglected to move.

"Actually," said Derick. "I've instructed Devid to only feed you a paste, which I gave him the recipe for. I've tried the paste and it tastes like pig slop!"

"I wish I was dead," moaned Redhawk.

"I'm not a baby, I can walk," shouted Redhawk, feebly pushing Derick away.

"The last time you tried you fell flat on your face," laughed Derick. pushing Redhawk back into bed.

"I tripped-"

"-on your own leg," finished Derick. "I saw you. You looked like a new born colt taking it's first steps."

"Don't argue, Redhawk," said Victoria, entering with Pothax. "Derick's leaving instructions to restrain you if you try to walk. So if I were you, I'd stay in bed, and take advantage of it."

Redhawk grumbled and laid back down in his bed."

"Now you behave yourself," she teased and kissed him on the cheek. "Gisoni is here to see you," Victoria murmured.

The minotaur entered, ducking under the doorway while the rest passed by him to go meet Wynic downstairs. The huge minotaur seemed awkward sitting down into the chair beside Redhawk's bed. "Your squire says you barely survived that operation," mumbled the minotaur.

"Yes, he told me."

"I've had many friends die over the years, Redhawk. Very rarely did they survive a serious injury like you did. You're damn lucky!" Gisoni sighed. "What is a knight?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What do have to do to become one?"

"You have to prove skill, professional training and-"

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, you mean..." said Redhawk laboriously. "A noble heart Gisoni, nothing more."

"Lady Bardelias is a noble and from what I've seen of her-"

"I don't mean you have be of the nobility. I mean that you are loyal, trustworthy, patriotic, unbending and unmovable from your station. A solid rock, too heavy to move, if you like metaphors."

"Am I a rock?" asked Gisoni.

"Gisoni, from all the minotaurs I've seen, and from their incredible loyalty to the Empire, I'd say all minotaurs, with the exception of Kobalix, deserve to be knights. And you are probably a truer knight than I am. Which is hard to admit because it hurts to speak," said Redhawk. "In fact if you asked the Empress, I believe she'd look into the matter of setting up a Knighthood based on something."

"What is yours based on?"

"The Kinian Knights? Ours is based on justice, and truth. The Colnic's base theirs on devotion to their heritage," explained Redhawk. "The Arthian's base theirs on bravery and loyalty to the Lord and the King. The Stornium's base theirs on whatever they feel like defending, each other, their homeland, their family.

"The Storniums are wise," noted Gisoni. "Family is much more important than a heritage, bravery and perhaps even justice."

"Farewell my friend," said Wynic, taking Redhawk's hand. "I feel like I owe you something I can't possibly pay for. You met me in a back alley in the slums of Avolic. You helped me to learn to write and to fight professionally. Now I can read, I've been fully trained in swordsmanship, and you taught me life is worth living. To the fullest."

"You're too stubborn to die in the first place," laughed Redhawk.

Wynic smiled. "You better be well when I get back, because I'm going to get you for that one!"

"I don't doubt it!"

"Your black eye has disappeared," noted Victoria, checking her arrows for cracks.

"You noticed?" laughed Wynic, mounting his horse.

Victoria smiled. "With all the excitement, and everything, I haven't been noticing much lately," she laughed, half at herself.

Wynic looked around quickly, and spotted Gith talking to Derick. Clicking his tongue, he nudged his horse towards them.

"Good day, sire," said Gith, looking up at Wynic with a smile.

"Good day, Gith. Tell me, have you finished that portrait of Victoria?" asked the assassin, glancing back at Victoria to make sure she couldn't hear.

"I haven't started."

"Why not?"

"I've been busy tutoring Nebonex, he's painting it."

Wynic was so stunned he nearly fell out of the saddle. "Are we talking about the same Nebonex?"

"Oh, yes. He's better than I am. He has a natural gift and I've been encouraging it," explained Gith. "He should be done in less than a week, I imagine."

"Does anybody else know?" asked Wynic, glancing at Derick, who had wandered over to talk with Rades.

"Just Nebonex, you and me," replied Gith. "I want it to be a surprise, so don't mention it to anyone. Nebonex also wants to surprise his mother."

"How'd you keep it a secret?"

"Remember all those trips down to the catacombs? Everyone thought we were going down to see the Emperor, but we were exploring the place, painting the inspiration we found on the very walls. Especially the Emperor's, he seems to draw strength from seeing his father," said Gith thoughtfully.

"Wynic," shouted Dillard, riding up to join them. "Who's in charge?"

"I don't know. I thought Waytorn was."

"I thought Blackaxe was, but he says you are!"

"Well then, I guess I'm in charge."

"Why don't we all be?"

"That's too confusing, besides there's thirty two of us," replied Wynic, standing up in the saddle. "Okay everybody, this ain't a picnic! Open the gates and fall into eight ranks of four," he shouted.

"I think you mean four ranks of eight," yelled Sardias.

"Whatever!"

The next two days of riding passed in a blur, and in the afternoon of second day, Wynic, Pothax and Waytorn rode ahead to inspect the cove. The three left their horses in a small thicket, and approached the cove on foot. "There's the citadel," pointed Pothax.

Wynic followed Pothax's finger and his gaze and ended at the huge looming black citadel. It was hard to miss. The huge spirals and towers thrust into the heavens as if daring anything to step forward and attack its walls. It looked like if it were to fall, there'd be a crater, creating a miniature Lake Vormia. "How do we get in?" he asked.

"You don't want to know!"

"I take it isn't going to be pleasant getting inside?" asked Waytorn, absently scratching his scars.

"Trust me," grinned Pothax. "You don't want to know!"