"This is crazy," Roger whispered. "You're certain to get us both killed!"

Bradwarden didn't answer, for the centaur was too busy staring at the remarkable and unexpected scene before them.

The mighty Allheart Brigade, along with legions of Ursal Kingsmen, swarmed over the towns of Caer Tinella and Landsdown. There had been no resistance, for the invading soldiers marching north out of conquered Palmaris had found the two towns substantially thinned of their populace.

"Ye gived them a warning, did ye?" Bradwarden asked.

"We did not go in," Roger replied. "Pony wanted to get to Dundalis as quickly as possible, so we bypassed the cites altogether on our ride north."

"Well, someone came through," the centaur remarked.

"The Palmaris garrison," Roger reasoned. "Many of them left the city right behind us. They would have stopped here, and would have warned the people to flee."

"Or to accept the new king," said Bradwarden. "And it seems as if a fair number done just that. But I wonder where them that ran might've gone to.

Not to Dundalis, or we'd've seen 'em on the road."

"Vanguard," said Roger. "They went to the east with the Palmaris garrison to join up with Prince Midalis."

"They're goin' to be finding a long and cold road, then. Winter's to come on early this year, and earlier still in the forest lands north o' the gulf." The centaur looked all around, his gaze finally settling on Roger.

"Ye go in there tonight, playing the part of a simple townsman."

"In there?" Roger asked incredulously. "Do you know who might be in there? Marcalo De'Unnero is likely about, and if not him, then surely Duke Kalas. He knows me. If I go into Caer Tinella or Landsdown, I don't think I'll soon be coming out."

"We got no choice in the matter."

"We?"

"Well, yerself at least. We're to need more information if we're to get all the way to Palmaris and get anything done," the centaur explained.

"Then we'll sneak about the perimeter and learn what we might," Roger offered. "Sentries have big mouths and lack basic discretion. I'll go down and find a place to hide near a group, and we'll know all that we need to know."

As he finished, he snapped his fingers and flashed a smile, and started off toward the town.

"Ye go right in," Bradwarden ordered. "Ye go to the common room in Caer Tinella and ye'll hear more in a drink than ye'll get all the night near the half-frozen and miserable sentries."

Roger glanced back, but Bradwarden's expression brooked no debate.

With a sigh, the small man headed off.

He kept the cowl of his cloak up high, but not so high as to make it look as if he were trying to avoid being recognized. Roger had always been a resourceful fellow. In the time of the Demon War, he had used his skills at hiding and thievery, as well as his persuasive manner, to keep a band of refugees from these very towns well fed and well hidden. Until Elbryan and Pony had arrived to lead the hapless band of villagers into a greater union against the minions of the demon dactyl, Roger Lockless had provided for them and kept them safe, mostly by outwitting the powries.

But those were just powries - ferocious and tough dwarves, yes, but... But this was Marcalo De'Unnero.

The mere thought of the man sent shivers coursing along Roger's back. If De'Unnero was here, and happened to recognize Roger, then nothing in all the world - not Bradwarden, not Pony - could save him.

As he moved along the streets of Caer Tinella, with more soldiers about than townsfolk, Roger began to become more at ease. This was his home, after all, the town where he had been raised into adulthood.

He neared the common room, as Bradwarden had bade him, but upon reaching the door, found that the place was nearly deserted. On an impulse, Roger turned aside and moved swiftly along a side street, coming to the home of an old friend.

He knocked gently, and when there was no answer, he glanced around to make sure that no one was watching, then quietly picked the lock on the door and moved inside. The place did not show signs of any hasty packing, and when he saw pieces of the man's battle armor and a fine sword leaning against the side of a stone hearth, Roger was fairly certain that his friend hadn't deserted the town.

That made sense, Roger knew, for the owner of this house, Captain Shamus Kilronney, was not one to shy from a fight.

Roger moved into the sitting room, plopped into a chair right before the dark hearth, and waited.

A couple of hours slipped by, and Roger became nervous and agitated.

Might something have happened to Shamus? he wondered. Had the man protested the new king too loudly and been thrown into a jail cell? Roger had just made up his mind to go and find out, and was even up from his seat and heading toward the door, when it opened suddenly and a very weary-looking Shamus Kilronney walked in. He tossed his hat on the table near to the door and moved a chair back as if to sit in it, and then, in a movement most uncharacteristic for the normally calm and composed man, he flung the chair across the room to crash against the wall.

"It has not gone well, I take it?" Roger asked, moving out of the shadows.

Shamus jumped at the sound and the sight of him, moving right into a defensive posture. But he relaxed visibly when he recognized that it was Roger.

"What are you doing here?" asked the former soldier, once a leader of a Kingsman contingent that served in Palmaris.

"A pleasure to see you again, too," Roger answered dryly.

Shamus seemed suddenly off-balance and totally flustered. "Of course," he stammered, and he moved forward, extending his hand to his old friend.

"Roger!" he said, and instead of shaking Roger's hand, he wrapped the man in a great hug.

All of this was so out of character for Shamus Kilronney, and that fact told Roger more than a little about the present occupation of Caer Tinella.

"How quickly the world changes," Shamus said, taking a seat and motioning for Roger to sit across from him. "Tell me, where is Jilseponie? Is she safe after the unexpected death of King Danube? Is she..."

Roger patted his hands in the air to calm the man. "Safe? Yes," he answered. "In body at least, though to be sure, the truth of Aydrian revealed has been more than a bit of a shock to her."

"Is it true, then?" asked Shamus, leaning forward eagerly. "Is the new king truly her son?"

"As they say," Roger conceded. "But though he has the blood of Elbryan and Jilseponie flowing through him, he is not akin to either by any action he has shown."

"I know not where this will lead," said Shamus. "But to evil, no doubt.

Prince Midalis is not to allow this without a fight. All the kingdom will be torn apart!"

"Has Aydrian come to Caer Tinella?"

"He remains in Palmaris."

"And what of Marcalo De'Unnero?" Roger pressed, leaning forward in his seat. "Has he come here?"

"De'Unnero?" Shamus echoed, and he seemed both confused and as if he was about to fall over. "What has Marcalo De'Unnero got to do with any of this?"

"Who represents King Aydrian here?"

"Duke Kalas, who leads the Allhearts."

"And the good duke has not seen fit to tell you of Aydrian's principle advisor?"

"De'Unnero?" Shamus asked, again with complete incredulity. "Does he even live on?"

"De'Unnero precipitated the rise of Aydrian in Ursal," Roger explained.

"It cannot be!"

"Jilseponie herself told me of this," Roger explained. "There can be no doubt. If he is not here, then likely he remains in Palmaris with Aydrian. That is the hope, at least," he added, and he couldn't help but glance all about nervously. "Better that than to have him stalking about the region, half man and half beast."

Shamus Kilronney ran his hand through his thinning and graying hair repeatedly, as if trying to get a handle on all of the startling news that had overwhelmed him these last days. "It all makes no sense," he remarked. "Duke Kalas is not an evil man, and yet it appears as if he has forsaken the line of Ursal. And why would he ever go in league with Marcalo De'Unnero?"

"Is he truly?"

Shamus Kilronney seemed intrigued by that prospect, but only for a moment, then he nodded. "He took the towns in the name of King Aydrian, and those soldiers of Palmaris who came through here a couple of weeks ago insisted that the new king's march to Palmaris was led every stride by Duke Kalas."

Roger could only shrug.

"I am to meet with Duke Kalas this very night - he may be on his way here at this very moment," Shamus explained. "Sit with us and perhaps we can together begin to unravel this mystery."

"Hardly," Roger said with a chuckle. "Kalas has never been overly fond of me, and hates Jilseponie above all."

"We can reason with him - "

"He will throw me in chains and drag me back to Palmaris, if I am fortunate," Roger said. "No, I have no desire to face the likes of Duke Kalas." As he finished, he rose from his seat and moved to the curtained window beside the door. He drew back the curtain just an inch, and peered out, and noticed a group of soldiers heading his way.

"Kalas?" asked the perceptive Shamus.

Roger nodded. "I beg you not to betray me," he said. "I do not know how all of this will fall out, my old friend, but I doubt that I will ever find myself in league with the likes of Duke Targon Bree Kalas!"

"Begone, and be quick, then," Shamus agreed, and Roger moved swiftly out of the room even as there came a loud knock on the door.

Shamus hesitated a few moments to give Roger a head start, then walked over and pulled wide the door. A group of soldiers entered, nodding deferentially to Shamus, but pushing past him and into the house. At once, they began moving about, searching every cubby and closet, overturning blankets and falling to the floor to peer under anything high enough off the floor for a man to squeeze beneath.

Shamus started to protest, but changed his mind and held his words. He had spent most of his life in the Kingsmen, serving Baron Bildeborough of Palmaris and other dignitaries, and he understood that these men were only acting as they had been trained to do, securing the house before the arrival of their lord.

Not waiting for any all clear, the ever-confident Duke Kalas strode in.

"Duke Kalas," Shamus said with a low bow. "Too long has it been." He heard banging in the other room then and stifled a grimace, hoping that Roger had not been found.

"I am surprised to find you here, Captain Kilronney," the duke admitted, taking a seat at the table and motioning for Shamus to do likewise.

"This is my home," Shamus answered. "Where else would I be?"

"On the open road with Jilseponie, and others of like mind," Duke Kalas bluntly replied. "It would not be the first time you have taken up with her against the crown."

The insult was not unexpected, of course. In the dark days, Shamus had indeed stood strong beside Elbryan and Jilseponie, and had even been with Elbryan at the Barbacan when Duke Kalas and Marcalo De'Unnero had led an army there to capture the ranger.

The other soldiers came into the room, then, and to Shamus' relief, they weren't dragging Roger Lockless.

"I will concede that I stood with her, and with Elbryan," Shamus replied, not backing down. "But never did Jilseponie truly stand against the crown. You know that now, Duke Kalas. In her efforts against Father Abbot Markwart, she was correct, and - "

"Spare me the recital of the virtues of Jilseponie," Duke Kalas said dryly. "I have heard too much from her and about her these last years. I can only hope that she ran off into the forest and was eaten by a bear."

"Or a tiger?"

The obvious reference to De'Unnero made Kalas sit a bit straighter suddenly, and narrow his eyes.

"Yes, I have heard of Marcalo De'Unnero's unexpected return," Shamus confirmed. "Though I admit that I am more than a little surprised to find that he and Duke Kalas are on the same side once again."

"This is not about Marcalo De'Unnero," Duke Kalas snapped back, and the harshness in his tone betrayed how strongly he felt about the fallen monk. "This is about putting the kingdom of Honce-the-Bear back as it was, about restoring..."

"The name of Ursal?"

"Captain Kilronney," Duke Kalas said quietly, evenly, as clear a threat as Shamus had ever heard.

Shamus held up his hands, showing that he would let the issue drop.

"I am as surprised by the turn of events as are you, I assure you," Duke Kalas went on. "But I am also certain that our land will prosper as never before under the command of Aydrian."

"How can you know?"

Duke Kalas fumbled over a few words, then just shrugged. "There is more to him than to any man I have ever known," he said quietly, and Shamus looked at him intently, never having seen the proud and headstrong Duke Kalas seem so humbled. "If ever there was a man born to be a king, then it is surely Aydrian."

"His breeding is impressive," said Shamus, and Kalas scowled.

"He rises above the many shortcomings of both mother and father," the duke insisted. "And pray, do tell me of his mother. Has Jilseponie passed this way? "

"She has not, and until your arrival and news that she was on the road, I had feared that she remained in Ursal, imprisoned."

"You are telling me that the Palmaris garrison did not march through here?" Duke Kalas said suspiciously.

"They did indeed, but had little to offer," Shamus replied. "Nor did I question them intently, as they were merely rushing through, along the road to the north and east. To Vanguard, I presume."

"And many of the townsfolk went with them." It was a statement and not a question.

"Many indeed. Prince Midalis and King Danube fostered great loyalty in this region, to be sure, but no more so than did Jilseponie Wyndon."

Again Kalas scowled at him.

"Tread carefully, good Duke," Shamus warned. "The name of Jilseponie is not discredited up here north of Palmaris, whatever her reputation in the city and on the roads south. The people of Caer Tinella and Landsdown, and all along the road to the north, remember well all that she and Elbryan did for them."

"Which is why I would expect that the reports we have of her heading north out of Palmaris are likely true," Duke Kalas replied. "Yet you say that she did not come through here."

"She did not, and if she had, then surely I would have seen her and spoken with her, and I assure you that I have not."

Duke Kalas stared at Shamus hard for a few moments, then, seeming satisfied, gave a nod.

"Just because she did not come through here does not mean that she didn't pass this way," Shamus offered. "Never has she called Caer Tinella her home."

"It may be that she is farther north," Duke Kalas agreed. "Back in Dundalis."

"And you will march that way?"

"No," Kalas said without hesitation. "That is not my mission. The Timberlands are not important at this time."

"Even if Jilseponie is there?"

"I have not come out in search of Jilseponie," Kalas explained. "And if I never see the witch again, I will die a happy man. My assignment was to take these towns for King Aydrian, and so I have, and now I will swing west with my legions and the Allhearts to secure all the lands in a ring about Palmaris, which now embraces Aydrian in good spirit. Even Bishop Braumin has spoken for the new king."

Shamus nodded, though the significance of that was not lost on him, nor was the curiosity of it. Hadn't Braumin been one of Jilseponie's staunchest supporters for all these years? "I came here for more than idle chatter," Duke Kalas said suddenly, and he sat up straighter in his chair. "It is obvious that the folk of the towns have taken you as their leader."

"I would hardly say that."

"But I have said it, and I am not surprised," said Duke Kalas. "King Danube took it as a great loss when you left the Kingsmen and your service to the crown. For many years, many of us considered that your future would be bright within the hierarchy of the kingdom, even after your decision to side with Elbryan and Jilseponie."

Shamus wanted to point out again that he had been proven right on that point, but he held the words to himself. He knew how stubborn Duke Kalas could be, and knew that to this day Kalas had never embraced the myth of the heroes of the north.

"I wish you to return to service," Duke Kalas went on when no protest was forthcoming. "I tell you with all my heart that King Aydrian will lead Honce-the-Bear to greatness beyond our comprehension. But as magnificent as he is, he will need competent leaders in his ranks."

Shamus was only partly aware of the fact that a slight breeze could have blown him over at that moment. To hear Duke Kalas, of all people, so exhorting the virtues of another! It was so uncharacteristic of the proud man as to be unthinkable! "I have long retired," Shamus did manage to stutter. "I have little desire to pace the open road again, my Duke."

"I have shown you no road," Duke Kalas replied. "I seek only stability in these towns, and I believe that you can deliver that stability, for King Aydrian."

"And against Prince Midalis?"

"A fair enough question," said Kalas. "And I pray that it never comes to that, for if Midalis goes against Aydrian, he will be destroyed. But we will let them play out that drama, should it come to war. For now, I seek only to assure the folk of Caer Tinella and Landsdown that all is as it was. I hope to coax back those who have fled because of their unfounded fear. Aydrian is no conquering king, but one who loves this land above all."

The words rang hollow on many levels, but Shamus could not deny that he was glad to hear them. Whether his loyalties lay with Jilseponie or with the nobles of Ursal was not the point - and was nothing that he could investigate at this time, in any case, having seen neither the former queen nor her son. What truly mattered to Shamus Kilronney at that moment was exactly what Duke Kalas had just said to him: the stability of Caer Tinella and Landsdown.

"We have seen too much war," Shamus said.

"Then remain out of any that might march your way," offered Duke Kalas.

"Keep these towns safe and secure. Assure the folk that King Aydrian is no enemy, but an ally who will not forsake his people at any cost."

"Then why have you come in with an army, Duke Kalas?" Shamus dared to ask. "If what you say is true, then why not send a courier with the news, bidding support for the new king?"

"Because there will likely be war, and we know not when we might find it," the duke explained. "A sizable portion of the garrison of Palmaris, guided by errant loyalties, have marched out of the city. We know not when we will encounter them."

"And you wish to ensure that they are not welcomed in Caer Tinella and Landsdown through the winter months," Shamus reasoned.

"I doubt they are anywhere near here," said Kalas. "But yes, there is that small fact. I will be gone from this place soon, but I am leaving a force behind to secure the towns and to help them through the difficulties of the winter months. I would have you aid them in their cause."

Shamus Kilronney spent a long time staring at the man. He really had little choice in the matter, he knew. His loyalties, first and foremost, were to these towns he now called home, and leading them against the legions of Ursal would be nothing short of suicide and complete disaster.

A few moments slipped by, with Shamus not answering.

"Yet, you were a friend to Jilseponie, not De'Unnero," Duke Kalas did remark.

"No more a friend to De'Unnero than are you," Shamus countered effectively.

"True enough," said Kalas. "Then I can inform King Aydrian that Captain Kilronney will hold the towns of Caer Tinella and Landsdown in his name?"

Shamus thought on it for a moment, and said, "We will not become enemies to those who do not come to us as enemies."

It was enough of an assurance for Duke Kalas obviously, for the man stood up and motioned for his soldiers to lead the way out. "The force I leave with you will not be substantial," he explained. "Your duty will not be to engage Prince Midalis, if this way he rides - and surely he will! - but to send riders far and wide that we might offer the proper defense in Palmaris to the south."

"We want no fight here," Shamus assured him. "But tell me again, on your word, that you do not hunt for Jilseponie."

"Old loyalties die hard?" Duke Kalas replied with a chuckle, then he added, "Marcalo De'Unnero was not pleased at Aydrian's decision to leave her to the Timberlands, if that is where she has fled. He wanted nothing more than to press on after her. Personally, I hope she simply fades away, never to be seen again."

Shamus grimaced and held a hard stare, but allowed him that.

It had gone better than expected, but the captain was glad indeed when he shut the door behind the departing duke and made his way back to the sitting room.

A soot-covered Roger Lockless was just crawling out of the chimney as he entered.

"You heard?"

"Every word," Roger answered. "My body wears the aches of middle age, but my hearing is acute, I assure you. Especially when the subject is one so dear to my heart." Roger dusted himself off and gave a little laugh. "I'm amazed that Duke Kalas was so quick to trust you. He has to know that these two towns might prove pivotal in any march of Prince Midalis -  and these are no longer the minor villages they were in the days of the demon dactyl. Five thousand call this region home now, and more than half, including many hardy warriors, are on the road to join Midalis!"

"Duke Kalas trusts me not at all, though he understands that I am honor- bound as a soldier," Shamus explained. "Likely he will leave many in his force to watch over me specifically, and I hold no doubt that at the first indication I offer in swaying at all toward Prince Midalis, should it come to that, they will have me chained and dragged all the way to Ursal."

Roger looked at him hard, all hint of a smile long gone.

"Take care where you stand in this, Roger Lockless," Shamus honestly warned him. "And pray keep Jilseponie safe. This is not a war that will easily be won, I fear, and the enemies are not clearly defined this time, as they were with the minions of the demon dactyl. Choose wisely, for all our sakes!"

"You can't believe there is legitimacy in Aydrian."

Shamus gave a shrug, as if it did not really matter. "We are a long way from Ursal," he explained. "If King Danube had died years ago, our lives here would not likely have been any different than they are now. Unless this Aydrian proves to be a tyrant, levying crushing taxes and impressing the folk of the land into service to his kingdom, then what real difference does it make?"

"These are not the words of the Shamus I knew!" Roger insisted.

"Perhaps not. But they are the words of a man who has known too much battle."

"Have you no loyalty to King Danube?"

"I did."

"And what of his brother, then? The rightful successor?"

Again Shamus shrugged. "We know nothing of Prince Midalis' designs at this time. Would you have me lead a revolt against the Allheart Knights and legions of Kingsmen? Would you have me lead my people into slaughter, or back out into the wilds of the forest, to run and hide from an enemy we cannot hope to defeat? "Besides, how do we know that young Aydrian will not prove to be the true offspring, in spirit as well as blood, of Elbryan and Jilseponie?" the man went on. "And if that is the case, Honce-the-Bear may yet know its best days."

Roger could see the logic in that, and in not resisting the overwhelming forces of Duke Kalas at this time. But he countered, and with great effectiveness, by reminding the former Kingsman of Aydrian's sidekick, saying merely, "Marcalo De'Unnero."

Shamus gave a resigned nod and smirk that fast turned to a scowl.

He would cling to his hopes, Roger understood, and so would many in the kingdom, but those hopes were placed upon the shoulders of a man who had risen to power under the tutelage of a monster whose past exploits could not be ignored.

Roger went back out into the forest before the dawn, and found Bradwarden waiting for him at the appointed spot. He recounted the events to the centaur, who listened carefully, nodding all the way through and giving little indication of whether he approved or not.

Expecting a more vociferous response from the volatile creature, Roger said emphatically, "They refuse to draw the battle lines!"

"Wisely so," said the centaur. "Shamus Kilronney's not to be leading his people to slaughter, and if ye're thinkin' they've got a chance in the world o' fighting the army that's marched out o' Palmaris, then ye're thinking wrong."

"We have to do something," Roger argued.

"And we'll see if it comes to pass," said the centaur. "Prince Midalis'U be heard from afore this is ended, don't ye doubt, but right now, it's seeming to me to be his fight to start, then ours to choose sides."

Roger paused and considered that for a moment, with Shamus' warning that he should choose sides carefully echoing in his ears. "And we do nothing? " he asked.

"Oh, we got plenty to do," Bradwarden replied. "We got a friend in the north who's needing us, and a friend in the south who's in more trouble still. I'm standing by me friends, whate'er the cost, and so is yerself, if ye're the Roger Lockless I'm knowing."

Roger looked at him curiously, not quite understanding. He caught the reference to Pony, obviously, but who might the friend in the south be? Braumin Herde? Did the centaur think that he and Roger and anyone else they might find had any chance at all of getting to the man, if the man was even still alive? "Climb on me back," the centaur instructed. "We got a long run to Palmaris ahead of us, and I'm thinking to make it quick!"

Roger, still perplexed, did as instructed, and the centaur leaped away, his large hooves tearing up the turf.

"I'm thinkin' it's good that we got so many soldiers behind us,"

Bradwarden called back to him. "That'll mean less to fight once we get to the city."

Roger just held on.