Nearly every day, Brynn descended the long staircase of the Walk of Clouds, down to the base of the rocky valley nestled within the Mountains of Fire, and then out the valley trails to the fields where Runtly ran with the other horses. Sensitive to her desires to spend time with her pony, the Jhesta Tu mystics gave her duties that would have taken her to the floor anyway.

As summer gave way to autumn, her job was to collect the black lava stones from the broken landscape and bring them up in buckets so that they could be ground into powder and used to fertilize the many gardens about the monastery. Brynn worked without complaint, taking the bur-dened climb back up the five thousand stairs in the same stoic manner she had utilized to get her through her years of training with the Touel'alfar. In Andur'Blough Inninness, like all of the other ranger trainees, Brynn had spent many days collecting spongelike milk-stones from the bog, carrying them back to a distant trough, then squeezing the bog juice out of them. In those mornings, Brynn had learned the power of meditation, of falling within herself to block out unpleasant external events, and so she used that now, slowly walking up the stairs each afternoon, deliberately and carefully placing one foot in front of the other so that she did not twist her leg, with a pole across her shoulders, a full bucket of stones dangling from each end.

It was a good life for the young woman, a necessary respite from the trials of the wider world, a time to reflect and to grow strong again, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

She spent most of her nights with Pagonel and other Jhesta Tu. Unlike her days in Andur'Blough Inninness, her times at the Walk of Clouds were full of openly asked questions and brisk discussions about philosophy and the ways of the various religions. Here Pagonel often led the way, inevitably veering the discussion toward the Behrenese Chezru religion and the con-cept and ways of Yatol. o n soon enough recognized that he was doing this for her benefit, that in times while learning about herself, the young woman was also learning hie lessons about her enemy. Even more than that, she came to believe U Pagonel was subtly forcing her to view her enemy not as the singular- a ded and thus, singularly hated, Wraps, but as a collection of people fol-precepts that were not so variant from her own, or from anyone else's.

"You try to distract me from my destiny," she said to the man one night fter a particularly heated discussion about how the To-gai-ru, the Abelli- ns and the Jhesta Tu were not so different in the artistic renderings of their respective pantheons.

Pagonel looked at her curiously, then merely smiled.

"You do," she accused. ?You keep speaking of the Behrenese in very hu-man terms, hoping that I will forget my hatred toward them and, it follows, hoping that I will abandon my course against them."

"Or perhaps I understand that if you do not come to understand the Behrenese, even the Chezru, even the Chezru Chieftain and his Yatols, as people of varying intelligence and desires, then your road will surely end as Ashwarawu's ended, in the bloody dirt."

Now it was Brynn's turn to stand and stare. ?Do you believe that I should abandon my road altogether? ? she asked after a long pause.

"I believe that you should continue to grow personally," the Jhesta Tu master replied. ?And when your heart tells you that it is time for you to go and decide your place in the world, among your own people or among the Behrenese, then you should go. Revelations ultimately come from within, not from without."

"Like your own journey to Ashwarawu's camp," Brynn remarked. ?Now that I have seen the Walk of Clouds, now that I have come to know what it is to be Jhesta Tu, your choice puzzles me even more. Why did you go out to the steppes?"

"Perhaps it was simply fate, or a silent command within from a god that I do not understand," the mystic answered. ?Or perhaps it was nothing but luck - and only time will tell us if that luck was good or bad." He ended with a chuckle and turned to leave, but Brynn grabbed him by the arm and forcefully turned him back around to face her.

"Do you believe that it was bad luck that you found me?"

Both became acutely aware of how close they were to each other. The tension between them had somewhat cooled since that uncomfortable day on the field below, but now it was there again, palpably. No," Pagonel answered. ?I could never believe that."

Brynn kissed him before he ever finished the sentence, and then they held each other there in the hallway for a long, long time.

Another unremarkable village," Cazzira remarked, standing on a ridge and looking down at a small collection of houses, ringed by stables.

"Then let me raze it and eat all the villagers, and its name will be long re-membered," Agradeleous offered, and both elves scowled at him, to which the dragon only sighed.

They had spent several weeks moving about the open and empty steppes with the dragon remaining in his bipedal form - except on occasional nights, when Agradeleous resumed his true and magnificent form and went out hunting, returning with stolen livestock or a wild horse or other things that both Juraviel and Cazzira thought it best not to ask him about.

The trio had encountered two villages previous to this one, and had spent time haunting the areas about them, eavesdropping on the conversa-tions of any who happened by. One such discussion, between a pair of el-derly women cleaning their laundry on stones at the side of a small stream had told of a revolt in a town not so far away, of how a Yatol and a Chezhou-Lei warrior had been slain, though now the town had been re-claimed by the Wraps, and was held more tightly than even before.

And this before them was that village, which Juraviel thought might prove not so unremarkable. Few warriors could slay a Chezhou-Lei warrior, he had come to believe.

But he knew one that could.

"You will remain here this night," he instructed Agradeleous.

"Unless I hear an oxen lowing on the grasses," the dragon replied.

"You feasted last night."

The dragon curled its mouth in a grinning reply.

"I ask you to remain here," Juraviel said firmly. ?If you cause any tumult on the grasses nearby, you will rouse the villagers."

Agradeleous' smile faded. ?I will stay," he agreed. ?Do you mean to go and listen in?"

"It would be wonderful if we could start finding some direction to our path," the elf replied, and at his side, Cazzira certainly did not disagree.

Later on, when the sun went down and the bright stars twinkled above, many people gathered in the village common room, talking animatedly. Just outside, huddled in the shadows beside a slightly opened window, Juraviel and Cazzira sat and listened, as silent as those shadows hiding them.

They heard many discussions about many things, most unrelated to any information they could use. They did hear some Behrenese soldiers boast-ing about a great battle, though.

"You will all learn your place, you Ru!" one cried out, the man obviously a bit drunk.

"Aye, cleaning the dung from your boots!" one of the To-gai-ru man vil-lagers replied, and all about him laughed.

"Better for you that our boots are covered in dung than in blood, as they were at Dharyan!" the Behrenese soldier shot back, and in the blink of an eye, the room went dead silent.

Both Juraviel and Cazzira peeked up and over the window rim, trying to better measure of it all. Another soldier jumped from his seat and & libed the speaker, holding him steady and bidding him to be quiet.!R"Thev know of Dharyan!" the drunken speaker protested. ?Do you?" he asked the room, leaning forward and smiling wickedly. ?When all heroes were trampled into the mud by the power of Yatol Grysh? When brave Ashwarawu's head parted from his shoulders?"

Several To-gai-ru men stood up at that, their chairs skidding out behind them, while others held them back.

"A fairly recent battle," Juraviel observed to Cazzira, for it was obvious that the emotions here were too high for Dharyan to be a memory from the war when Behren had conquered To-gai.

"We remember it," one To-gai-ru from the far corner did respond. ?Aye, and well. Almost as well as we remember Yatol Daek Gin Gin Yan and Dee'dahk, and the fine To-gai-ru lass who cut them down!" Juraviel could hardly draw his breath, and felt as if he would simply fall over.

"Speak no more of it!" the soldier holding the drunk ordered the To-gai-ru, and when his drunken friend started to respond, he smacked the man hard across the back of his head.

All the Behrenese soldiers were standing then, and several drew out their weapons.

But it was all bluster and boast, and no real challenge came against them, and soon enough the room settled back into its easy flow of many disjointed conversations.

Over the course of the next couple of hours, Juraviel did note, though, that many of the To-gai-ru veered on the path to the common room's door to a table where a pair of elderly couples sat quietly, and often patted one old man on the shoulders, sometimes looking back as they did to the boast-ful and drunken Behrenese soldier.

When that old man and his wife left the common room later on, a pair of quiet little figures followed them through the town and to their small and humble cottage, and when they sat down within, at their own table, they did not know that they were not alone.

"I am warmed whenever they speak of her," the old man said, and his companion walked behind him and put her arms about his neck, bend-ing low.

"You think they refer to Brynn?" Cazzira whispered to Juraviel. The elf nodded, and held his breath as he put his ear back up to the crack in the cottage wall.

Come, old man, let us find our sleep," he heard the old woman say, and he was sorely disappointed.

A good one, it will be," the old man agreed, and the elves heard the creak of wood as he stood, and the shuffling of feet as the old couple made their way across the room to their bedding.

"Now what?" Cazzira asked. ?Back to Agradeleous or back to the com-mon room?"

Juraviel took a third route, around the house so that he was against the wall closest to the couple's bed. As soon as he got there, purely on instinct he tapped on the wall.

When no response came back, he tapped again, harder.

"Eh?" he heard the old man say, followed by movement within.

"Tell me of her," Juraviel said to them, though Cazzira was grabbing his arm so tightly that the blood couldn't get to his fingers. ?Tell me of the fall of Yatol Daek Gin Gin Yan."

"Who are you?" came a harsh whisper.

"I am a friend."

There came some muffled conversation within, and the elves heard the old woman remark, ?A friend of the Behrenese!"

"A friend, I believe, of she who slew the Yatol," Juraviel said, and Caz-zira tugged him hard, pulling him away from the wall.

"You cannot do this!" she protested.

"It is the only way!"

They both stopped as they heard the door around the other side of the cottage swing open. Around the corner, armed with a small hammer, came the old man. ?Who are you?" he demanded, though neither elf was any-where in sight. He looked all about, shaking his hammer.

"I traveled with Brynn Dharielle," Juraviel said, using a Touel'alfar trick to throw his voice, so that the old man spun the wrong way in response.

"Then show yourself!"

"That I cannot do," Juraviel replied, throwing his voice to a different place, and the old man spun again. When he had settled, Juraviel started again, his voice coming from a completely different shadow. ?She thought me lost in the Path of Starless Night, tunnels beneath the great mountains to the north. But I have found my way to here and, I hope, soon to her side again."

The man's shoulders seemed to slump a bit at that last statement, and a lump wrought of fear welled in Juraviel's throat.

"Bah, but I'll not talk to ghosts!" the old man said firmly. ?Nor to Behre-nese spies - and how do I know you're not that?"

Juraviel started out and Cazzira grabbed him tightly. ?No," she whispered.

"He knows," Juraviel said back at her, and he pulled away.

The old man was heading back around the house by that time, so Juraviel jumped out behind him. ?Have you ever seen a Behrenese soldier who looks like this?" he asked, and the man spun about.

And then he stood there, trembling, his hammer falling to the ground at his feet.

"I am no enemy of To-gai," Juraviel declared. ?And I am a friend of Brynn Dharielle. Tell me, I beg of you."

"T d'elfin faerie," the man stuttered, using the To-gai-ru label for the el-neople, a race that was prominent in their fireside tales.

"Belli'mar Juraviel at your service," the elf said with a sweeping bow. ?You know of Brynn, so tell me, I beg of you."

"I sent her to her death," the old man remarked, trembling, his hands coming up to hide his face.

"No Balachuk!" the old woman said, rushing around the house and grabbing at his arms. ?We do not know that!"

"She did battle here, against a Yatol priest and one named Dee'dahk?" Juraviel prompted.

"A Chezhou-Lei warrior," the old woman said, nodding. ?She killed them both, and others besides, and she freed the horses, though the Wraps have returned to put them back."

The couple exchanged worried looks.

"You'd best come inside," the old woman said. ?We saw Brynn once again after she fled, and we know where she went, but it is not a pretty tale."

Juraviel entered the humble cottage behind the couple and took an of-fered seat at their table, with Balachuk sitting across from him and the woman - Balachuk introduced her as Tsolona - moving to the fire to heat some water for tea.

After a few uncomfortable moments, where Juraviel had to reassure the couple repeatedly that he was no spy, and that, yes, he was of the tu d'elfin faerie spoken of in their legends, he managed to coax the story out of them. Balachuk told it, primarily, recounting Brynn's time in the village, and how she had taken down the Yatol priest and the warrior. He spoke of his last meeting with her, when she had left to join Ashwarawu's rebel band.

Balachuk's voice grew solemn as he told Juraviel of the disastrous battle of Dharyan.

"She is dead, then?" the elf asked, barely able to get the words past the lump in his slender throat.

"So I would guess," Balachuk replied, seeming equally troubled.

"We heard rumors that a Jhesta Tu was there, and took her riding off from the battle," Tsolona quickly interjected. ?Heard that she, or he, killed another of the Chezhou-Lei."

"Rumors," Balachuk huffed.

"Not all of them died at the gates of Dharyan!" Tsolona insisted.

"Then why did she not return to us?" the old man countered. So you just do not know?" Juraviel asked.

A few To-gai-ru returned from the battlefield and are scattered about the steppes," Balachuk explained. ?It is not something they are free to talk about."

Not in pride or practicality," said Tsolona, echoing a common To-gai-ru saying.

Belli'mar Juraviel paused for a bit to digest it all. ?Jhesta Tu?" he asked at length, unfamiliar with the name.

"Group of mystics who live somewhere far to the south," Balachuk ex-plained. ?One was said to be riding with Ashwarawu."

"Do you have any idea of where I might turn to find Brynn's trail, if it did lead from Dharyan?" the elf asked, and the old couple looked to each other, but Juraviel knew even before the two blank stares came back at him that they had no idea of how to respond.

Juraviel found Cazzira outside of the house, waiting for him in the shadows.

"A legend comes to life," she said with a grin.

"Let us hope that another one remains alive," Juraviel replied grimly, and they left the village to find Agradeleous, that they might head out to the south and east.

"This is what Yatol has shown to me," Chezru Douan said calmly, bring-ing his arms in dramatically and crossing them over his chest as he slowly closed his eyes.

Around him, all of the priests in attendance murmured their accord and their prayers, and even one of the other two Chezhou-Lei warriors nodded, his face a mask of acceptance. Kaliit Timig wanted to scream out!

He hadn't come for permission to go to the Mountains of Fire, but rather, just to inform the Chezru Chieftain that the Chezhou-Lei warriors had assembled and were ready to begin their march. Months had passed since he had first informed Yakim Douan of the need for the Chezhou-Lei to exact revenge over the hated Jhesta Tu, and not once before this day had Yakim Douan indicated that there would be anything but agreement coming from him.

And now the Chezru Chieftain had walked into the morning audience with the surprising announcement that he would allow Kaliit Timig to take only half of the warriors to the south, and that a force of Jacintha soldiers, not Chezhou-Lei, would accompany them. The Kaliit's frustration was only more profound, since Douan had proclaimed this as a vision of Yatol. The Chezhou-Lei, like all of the Chezru, considered Douan the God-Voice, who communicated directly with Yatol; and thus, it was not their place to ques-tion him.

Not publicly, at least.

Kaliit Timig bowed his head. ?In what capacity are the soldiers of Jacin-tha to be used?" he asked.

"In whatever capacity the leader of the Chezhou-Lei contingent desires," Douan answered, his eyes still closed as if he was then in direct contact with Yatol.

Kaliit Timig tilted his head to the side a bit at the surprising words. ?The leader" of the Chezhou-Lei? What might Yakim Douan mean by that, since Kaliit Timig was obviously the leader, and had obviously, despite his aded age, planned to travel to tne Mountains of Fire? Had the Chezru Refrain just subtly stated that Timig would not be going?

"T do not question your words, God-Voice," Timig began, his old voice holding steady, ?but - "

"It is good that you do not question Yatol," Douan interrupted, ending , ijne Of probing before it could ever begin. ?I am shown that the honor of^'our order is in need, and thus, whatever my personal fears, Yatol de- o ands that I allow the Chezhou-Lei this journey. But I am shown, as well, hat the integrity of Behren rests in no small part upon the valued swords of ,e Chezhou-Lei, and the kingdom cannot be unguarded for the months of this journey. Appoint your leader - Yatol Grysh's man, Wan Atenn, is battle-seasoned and has earned high regard - and select those warriors who will go to avenge the death of Chezhou-Lei Dahmed Blie. Let them begin their march, and then you and I will determine the best way to redistribute those warriors left to my disposal.

"You do not approve?" Yakim Douan asked a moment later, and Kaliit Timig realized that his expression was betraying his heart. ?Do you fear the Jhesta Tu that much? They number fewer than two hundred, closer to a hundred, by every account, and many of those mystics are mere novices, young disciples who have never seen battle. Indeed, it is likely that this mys-tic who felled Chezhou-Lei Dahmed Blie is the only one of their order who has lifted a weapon, or his fist, against a real enemy. You will send a like number of seasoned, veteran warriors to battle mere children, and I will re-inforce your warriors with four times that number. Rest assured, Kaliit Timig, that when the slaughter is completed, the Chezhou-Lei will be given all of the glory for the defeat of the Jhesta Tu."

Kaliit Timig understood that he had been flanked on every front, and since Douan was speaking with the weight of Yatol behind him, the logic walls he had used to surround the Kaliit could not be scaled. The old man snapped a respectful bow, then stood at rigid attention. ?Wan Atenn is a fine choice, God-Voice."

"That is the advice of Yakim Douan, not Yatol," the Chezru Chieftain said with a chuckle, and all about him smiled, even snickered, at the sudden break of any tension.

"And it is advice I will take into consideration," Kaliit Timig assured him, and with another bow, the old Chezhou-Lei warrior left the audience chamber and the temple altogether. He had nearly three hundred of the world's finest warriors preparing themselves for the long journey to the Mountains of Fire, choosing their mounts and fitting armor to horse and man. Now he had to go to them and explain that only half would take that ride.

He didn't expect many cheers at that proclamation.

But Yakim Douan was God-Voice and could not be questioned.

And so on a bright morning in the second month of the year, half of the Chezhou-Lei warriors in all the world, a formidable army unto them-selves, paraded out of Jacintha to the music of a hundred horns, their armored horses striding easily and proudly down the main boulevard of the city and out the southern gate.

Behind them came a marching twenty-square, spear tips gleaming in the morning light.

Chezru Douan and Kaliit Timig watched the procession side by side, on a balcony of the great temple. ?Yatol is ever wise," Douan remarked.

"Of course, God-Voice," the Kaliit promptly replied.

"My man in Honce-the-Bear, Daween Kusaad, is not pleased with the new Queen Jilseponie," Douan added, and that caught Timig by surprise, for never had the God-Voice been known to share such political informa-tion with his Chezhou-Lei elite guard.

"She is Abellican, you know," Douan went on when Timig looked at him questioningly. ?A ranking member of the infidel Church, akin to an abbot in power."

The Kaliit nodded, though he had not heard any such thing, nor did he much understand why it mattered.

"She was instrumental in the defeat of Abbot Olin of Entel in his bid to lead the Abellican Church, an ascension that would have surely strength-ened the ties of Behren and our neighbors to the north. I fear that her work toward his defeat may be an indication that King Danube, her husband, will take action against Abbot Olin in Entel, and will weaken the ties be-tween our lands."

Kaliit Timig had no idea of how he was supposed to respond, or even if he was supposed to respond, for Chezru Douan had never spoken to him about such matters, and he wasn't quite sure what the man might be getting at.

But then Douan looked at him directly, his expression stern. ?If King Danube moves against Abbot Olin of Entel, then we will support the man - perhaps we will even fight beside him to hold control of his city."

Kaliit Timig's old and drooping eyes widened at that! ?You think to sail around the mountain spur and enter Honce-the-Bear? ?

"If Yatol so decrees," the calm Chezru Chieftain said, and he looked back to the procession passing along the road below.

Yakim Douan did well to hide his smile at that time. He had no inten-tion, of course, of supporting Olin with anything more than money against King Danube, if Danube was even thinking of moving against Olin overtly, which Douan thought absurd. But on the surface, at least, it all seemed plausible, and by embellishing the events of Honce-the-Bear to the Kaliit, he had given the old man more to think about and less to dwell upon.

He glanced down at Timig and recognized that the man was deep in thought. Up to that moment, Douan had known that Timig was angry that only half of his warriors could march on their road to revenge, but now, with a few well-aimed remarks, Douan had him questioning even sending, many. For the Chezhou-Lei, proud as they were and concerned with ? honor, garnered that honor, above all else, by protecting Yatol's Chezru priests and strict order.

^ Yakim Douan feared no move by Danube, against him or even against Abbot Olin. Queen Jilseponie was no firebrand seeking conquest, from all the information that Daween Kusaad had sent back. In fact, she was rarely ven in the Castle in Ursal at that time, for winter was on in full in the lorthern kingdom, in their God's Year 842, and kindhearted Jilseponie was out every day among the poor and the sick. She and her husband were no threat. But Kaliit Timig didn't have to know that.

Agradeleous sat on a termite mound, sharpening his claws - and even in this humanoid form, they were formidable! - on a large rock he had found, and looking none-too-happy, as usual.

"Do you think that he will put those weapons to use someday soon?" Cazzira asked Juraviel, the two of them sitting across the way.

Juraviel shrugged, but in truth, it was a fear that had been bubbling in-side of him for a long, long time. Ever since they had first come out of the mountains, when Agradeleous had reverted to his natural behemoth form and stretched his great wings in the mountain air, Juraviel had worked tire-lessly to keep the dragon calm.

For to the beast, all of the creatures about them - the humans included, and perhaps even particularly - were nothing more than potential meals, or outlets for his innate aggression. So far, Agradeleous had behaved himself well, with not a single human kill, as far as either of the elves knew. But of late, as the weeks had dragged to months and as the wind across the steppes had become uncomfortably cold, often with stinging hail or snow, the dragon's patience had seemed on the wane.

Of late, Agradeleous seemed to be spending more time off to the side of the encampments, and often flexing his formidable, sinewy muscles, or sharpening those killing claws.

Juraviel understood the dragon's frustration. His own frustration came from the lack of any real information about Brynn. One time of the many when he had eavesdropped on the conversations of unsuspecting humans, he had heard references to this mysterious Jhesta Tu mystic and the sup-posed rescue of the warrior woman from the battlefield outside of Dharyan, but other than that, he had learned nothing of any value. For Agradeleous, the frustration was even easier to sort out. The dragon had slept in peace for so many years, and when he had decided to accompany the elves to the surface, he had done so with the intention of finding great adventure. Thus far, at least, that had hardly been the case.

Cazzira's question echoed ominously to Juraviel in context of that realiza-tion. On a whim, Agradeleous could level any of the many villages they had seen. It would take a trained army, powerfully outfitted, to bring down the dragon; among the four ancient races of Corona, only the demon dactyls were more individually powerful, and their might came from a combination of magic and physical strength. Even the demons could not match the sheer physical muscle of a dragon. Juraviel had never seen one before he had en-countered Agradeleous, and though he had heard the stories of the ancient wurms told over and over again, that one moment when Agradeleous had come out of the tunnel and stretched his great wings had overwhelmed him.

He could hardly imagine the devastation this one might cause if he be-came enraged.

Or bored.

Juraviel glanced across to the dragon, and it seemed to him to hold too much strength and energy within his current form, as if he would just ex-plode back into his greater shape.

The elf was somewhat relieved a short while later, then, when a campfire appeared in the distance. Cazzira noticed it first and quietly motioned to Juraviel, but before the two could come up with any plan that might engage Agradeleous without bringing him dangerously close to the human camp, the dragon, too, spotted the distant light.

"Let us go and see those who would share the land with us," Agradel-eous said, too eagerly, and the dragon took a loping stride away.

"Better if I go alone, or with Cazzira," Juraviel quickly replied and the dragon stopped and spun about, a slight hiss escaping his mouth.

"At first," the elf quickly explained. ?Let us catch them unawares, that they will be more truthful. If they have anything of interest to reveal, we will come back for you."

"If they have anything of interest to reveal, they will tell it to me," Agradeleous answered, and he started away at a fast walk, then a loping trot, and Juraviel and Cazzira had to run flat out to keep up.

Agradeleous stopped outside the light of that fire and was not immedi-ately noticed, for the ten men sitting about the flames were engaged in a boisterous conversation.

"We cannot go back to any town!" one protested. ?Don't you think the Wraps will be looking for us? And what a fine prize our heads would make!"

"We cannot stay out here, with no food and no wagons to rob," a second argued. ?I'd rather die fighting Wraps than freeze and starve out here where only the buzzards will find our rotting corpses!"

"Then you should have died with the rest at Dharyan!" the first man shot back.

"Not that again!" several cried at once, and one continued, ?Are we to spend all our days thinking back to that cursed place?"

Out in the darkness, Agradeleous snapped a fiery gaze over Juraviel. ?You want answers, and so you shall have them!" he said in his rumbling inhuman voice, and it was loud enough to halt the conversation in the entrapment, with several men leaping up and a couple even lifting their weapons.

How they fell all over each other when the huge bipedal lizard walked right into their camp, his wings tucked in tight to his back, his small tail trailing.

One or two froze in terror, one or two screamed out and turned to flee, but these were To-gai-ru warriors here, and before Agradeleous could utter any sort of explanation, several came at him hard, weapons slashing.

Agradeleous didn't retreat an inch, but rather, charged forward suddenly, into the largest concentration of opponents, four men charging shoulder to shoulder. Oblivious to their puny weapons, the dragon slammed in, scatter-ing them, slamming them to the ground. One sword hooked under the dragon's scaled breast, but Agradeleous just snapped his hand in and grabbed it across the blade, tearing it from the man's grasp, then altered the angle of his rush and lowered his shoulder, smashing that man down below him.

And then he kicked the prone man, launching him through the air for a dozen feet.

The dragon spun and squeezed the sword, then threw it to the ground, swinging his hand across to slap aside a spear thrusting for his torso.

From his left, a heavy axe swooped in at his neck.

Agradeleous roared and accepted the hit, which did no damage against his superb armor, and then his powerful legs twitched, launching him right into the axe-wielder, the impact knocking the man back and down.

But not to the ground, for the dragon's hand shot out, engulfing the man's face, and with strength that mocked the warriors, Agradeleous lifted the kicking and thrashing man up into the air.

"Do you wish to speak with me, or should I just kill you all?" the dragon roared, and with his free hand, he caught the swinging arm of another swordsman, and then, with a flick of his wrist, sent the man flying away, head over heels.

"Well?" the dragon demanded, and when he roared, he tensed, and his hand closed a bit on the head of the man he held high, bringing forth a piti-ful squeal.

The remaining To-gai-ru held back, circling, weapons drawn, but it was obvious that none wanted to advance.

"No!" came a cry from behind, and the already overwhelmed warriors turned to see two more strange creatures rushing into their firelight. ?These are not our enemies!" Belli'mar Juraviel shouted at the dragon.

"They are To-gai-ru, kin of Brynn Dharielle!"

"Brynn?" more than one man cried, obviously recognizing the name.

"Were you at Dharyan?" the dragon bellowed, and he gave his prisoner another involuntary shake.

"What do you know - " one of the To-gai-ru started to say, but Agra-deleous cut him short.

"Were you at Dharyan?" the dragon bellowed, so loudly that the roar echoed off into the darkness, so powerfully that his voice hit the speaking To-gai-ru like a mighty wind, forcing him back a step.

"We were there," he replied. ?All of us."

"Shut your mouth!" another of the To-gai-ru warriors cried at him. ?You'll condemn us to the Wraps!"

"If we were Behrenese, you would already be dead," Juraviel remarked. ?But we are not, and if you rode with Brynn Dharielle, then you are no ene-mies of ours." As he finished, he looked sternly at Agradeleous.

The dragon put the man down and let go of him, and the poor soul stood there for a moment, staring back at the lizard creature. Then he simply fell over.

"Tell us everything," Agradeleous demanded. ?A good tale will make me forget that I am hungry for man-flesh!"

The To-gai-ru to whom the dragon spoke blanched so profoundly that his sudden lack of color was clear to Juraviel and Cazzira even in the dim firelight. Juraviel was quick to his side.

"We are not your enemies," the elf said reassuringly. ?And perhaps we are your allies. Pray tell us of that awful day, and of Brynn Dharielle, the warrior, my friend."

It took a long while to settle the camp enough for the man and a few of his bolder companions to relate the story of the disaster at Dharyan, and many of the details were sketchy at best, and often contradictory.

But on one point, there was some agreement. Brynn Dharielle had not been slain - not on the battlefield, at least, though none had any idea if the wounds she had taken there had subsequently proved fatal. She had been taken away on that marvelous pony of hers, by Pagonel, the Jhesta Tu mys-tic, to where, they did not know.

They did confirm, however, that there was a place far to the south, in a rocky, mountainous land, that the Jhesta Tu called home, a retreat called the Walk of Clouds.

"A tale to calm the hunger of a ravenous beast," Juraviel decided, defini-tively, before Agradeleous could pass any judgment. ?Let us beg your for-giveness for our intrusion and the unfortunate confrontation."

"They started it!" Agradeleous protested, and all the men cowered a bit at the power of the voice.

"I pray that your wounds will heal and that we will all soon view this meeting as fortunate - for us, for Brynn Dharielle, and for all of To-gai," the elf went on, ignoring the interruption, and he rose to leave and mo-tioned for his friends to follow.

"Enough of hiding in shadows and hoping the humans will say what we need to hear," Agradeleous said when they had moved back into the dark-ness away from the camp, his tone showing that he was quite proud of himself- He ended with a wicked chuckle, one that reminded his two companions of the potential catastrophe that was Agradeleous.

Belli'mar Juraviel boldly walked before the dragon, cutting him off. ?Never again!" he warned, wagging a finger at the beast.

Agradeleous regarded him with a somewhat bemused expression.

"These are not our enemies - they are the hope of Brynn's destiny, and woe to us all if your violence turns To-gai from us, and from Brynn!"

"They are just humans," Agradeleous said with a mocking laugh. ?To-gai-ru, Behrenese - ha! You speak as if there is a difference."

"In this case, there is."

"Only to you, little elf," said the dragon. ?To me, they are an amusement and nothing more - unless we are speaking of a meal to warm my belly!"

Juraviel glanced over to see Cazzira giving him a concerned look, and one that showed she certainly understood the dragon's reasoning.

"I have your word on this, Agradeleous," Juraviel reminded. ?And I hold you to it."

"Be silent, elf, else I dismiss our compact altogether," the dragon retorted. ?They came at me with weapons drawn. Besides yourselves, they are the first creatures to do that and live to reconsider their course. You should be praising me for my restraint."

It took Juraviel a few moments fully to digest the weight of the dragon's remarks, the threat of breaking the compact, the only real assurance that he had that Agradeleous wouldn't rain terror upon the world, terror as pro-found as that wrought by Bestesbulzibar. And that last statement, he recog-nized, was really a demand.

"You did well in not killing any," Juraviel conceded.

"I did well in getting the information, something that you have tried and failed to do for weeks and weeks,"

Agradeleous added.

Juraviel had to admit that they had indeed made progress, discerning a more definitive possibility and path.

But he knew, too, the unique nature of this encounter, with a group of rebels out on the empty steppes. They could ill afford any more outbursts from Agradeleous, and they had much more information to gather.

But he had to give Agradeleous this moment, because the dragon wasn't asking, he was demanding.

And Belli'mar Juraviel was keenly aware of the fact that he had no power to refuse any of Agradeleous' demands.