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Ok, part six of the story. At this point, I am maybe halfway done with my part of the collab.

I hope you enjoy it.

As always, comments are appreciated and requested.

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Continued from 'A web strand broken...'

Loud voices. That was what brought Shandi back from the sleep she had managed to drift into. They filled the room, seeming to echo incessantly within her ears, the words making no sense to her in her exhausted state. Shandi tried to remain asleep, tried to cling to the darkness of her rest, but it was already gone, abandoning her to exhausted waking. The voices continued to echo, hammering upon her ears and making her head throb. Irritation quickly flared into being within her. Didn't they see she was trying to sleep? Didn't they care that she was exhausted, all her strength stolen from her? Shivering, she tried to growl, tried to open her eyes, but, when neither act seemed within her reach, she suddenly realized just how weak she was. For a while, she couldn't remember why she was so tired. She had only ever been this weak after pushing the boundaries of her magic strength. And then, finally, details began to work their way into her mind. A faint, coppery tinge suffused every breath, making the back of her throat itch. And at last, she remembered what had happened, what had nearly happened, and at once, some strength returned to her, as if hidden in some deep reserve. And, as awareness returned, the voices started to make sense at last.

"...As I told you, my lord," A voice was saying. "When I got here, the assassins were on the verge of violating your daughter. What they would have done afterward is anyone's guess." The voice was a tenor, slightly accented, but for some reason, its sound filled her with warmth, driving back the chill that lay upon her. "Seeing thus, I acted as I thought best."

"And in so doing, you ended any chance of finding who these men worked for." Another voice replied angrily. It was a voice she had heard all her life, a voice that should have comforted her, but it did not.

"The assassins were led by a creature the like of which I have never seen before." The first voice replied, its tone even. "I could do nothing to wound it, to say nothing of stopping it."

"And for this we have only your word." A third voice cut in, a voice that seemed strained, filled with a barely contained rage.

Drawing in a deep breath, Shandi forced her eyelids to open, letting in bright torchlight that nearly blinded her with its sudden brilliance. Wincing, she squinted until the pain went away and then looked around the room, still lying almost still. The torches and candles had been lit once more, and armed guards clad in armor lined the room. Before her bed, servants were in the midst of carrying the slain assassins from her chamber. Near at hand, her father and uncle were standing side by side, fully clothed and well armed, towering over the Knight, both of their faces contorted with rage. Nael'an was wearing his plate armor once again and he looked as if he were about to launch into a berserk rage, his notoriously savage instincts barely restrained by his will. Her father seemed likewise enraged, his eyes narrowed, blazing with an angry fire. But the white wolf, his fur still splattered with blood, and clad only in his light trousers, armed only with his enchanted sword, stood undaunted before them, his head held high, his face calm and composed, seeming to be feeling no emotion at all. Her uncle had been the one who had spoken last, and his remark, spoken in such an offhand, accusing way, filled the young snow leopard with an anger she had never known she could feel. Though the Knight acted as if he hadn't even heard his insult, she was angry on his behalf. The idea that a man who had risked his life to save her would lie about something like that outraged the young magus and she forced herself to sit up despite her body's fatigued protest.

"And mine as well." She stated, her voice so utterly devoid of warmth that for a moment she was surprised she could speak in such a way. Her father and uncle jumped, turning swiftly to face her. The Knight turned towards her as well, and, in the full light of the newly kindled torches, she finally saw the extent of the wounds that he had endured that night, wincing as she realized how much pain he had to be feeling. The long wound across his chest was not shallow, and it still oozed blood down his front. A row of long ragged cuts decorated his side where the vampire's claws had pierced his skin, and from the way he was standing, as rigidly upright as a statue of stone, she knew he must have cracked a few ribs. That he was still on his feet at all amazed her, but more amazing was that he seemed still ready to fight, despite his injuries. "He is telling the truth Nael'an. It was a vampire." Her uncle gave a snort of derision and turned away, looking down with disgust as the corpse of the panther assassin. But her father latched onto her last words swiftly.

"A vampire? Are you sure?" he questioned. When Shandi nodded, he continued. "Describe him."

"I didn't get much of a look of his body, since he wore a long robe and a cloak," Shandi began, forcing herself to draw up the images of the horrible nightmare that had unfolded within her chambers from where they had retreated, hidden deep in her subconscious. "He was a snow leopard I think, but I know he was a user of dark magic, because his eyes were red on black." She swiftly listed every detail she could remember of him, and when she finished, her father seemed contemplative, his eyes distant.

"No, it can't be." He said quietly, as if talking to himself. "But it must. There could be no one else..." Shandi waited patiently, knowing her father would explain his odd words in due time. Finally, Lord Nael'eth seemed to come back to himself and he shook his head, turning to face the Knight once more.

"It seems my daughter owes you her life." He mused, seeming to be considering the warrior who stood before him, almost as one would consider a fine painting, or perhaps the manner in which one would examine a masterfully crafted weapon. At his brother's words, Nael'an turned back, surprise rising in his face.

"Surely he is not going to go unpunished?" He exclaimed and Shandi felt surprise well within her as well. For what could the knight possibly be punished? She was about to ask that very question when the wall of the room suddenly seemed to shimmer, its surface rippling like water, and all of a sudden, a dark figure stepped through it. A few of the guards raised their weapons in alarm, but Shandi knew it was unnecessary. It was her twin brother, clad all in black, and if he felt any surprise at the scene spread out before him, he did not show it.

"It seems my news comes too late." He commented quietly, dispassionately observing the carnage that still covered the floor. Her father turned towards him, a look of utmost relief on his face at seeing his son safe. Shaden seemed about to continue when Lady Lalun hurried into the room, accompanied by a half dozen hand maidens, and trailing almost forgotten in their wake was Kaia, Shandi's young handmaiden, apparently unhurt. A blossom of relief took root in Shandi's heart at seeing two more of the people she cared about unharmed. But, at the same time, she felt a ripple of irritation trickle into her mind, an alien flow that was swiftly cut off. But the brief flash had been more than enough. But, before she could ponder what the feeling meant, her father spoke, ordering Shaden to continue and drawing her attention away from her musings. "Father, I have vital news, news that you must hear."

"Wait a moment." Shandi's mother said. "When we discovered the attack, we came looking for you, but you were nowhere to be found. Where have you been Shaden?"

"A contact of mine sent word that troubled me so much that I could not wait until morning." Shaden replied, his tone neutral. "And it seems it would have been better if I had gone earlier. Father, there is a plot to wrest control of the house from you."

"Ha!" Nael'an laughed, looking at his nephew with cold fury in his eyes, as if he couldn't believe his audacity. "Who could possibly have the strength to attempt such a thing?"

"Why," Shaden began, sounding surprised and regarding his uncle with an unreadable expression. "You do, uncle."

"Nael'an?!" Her father exclaimed, turning towards his brother in shock. "Is this true?"

"Of course not!" He replied quickly, taking a step back from Nael'eth. "What reason would I have for taking over?"

"Your own greed for power." Nael'eth said, looking at his brother with disgust. "It all makes sense now. All the odd things that have been happening around here could only have been done by someone who knew us well. All this time, I thought you were behind me, and all the time, you were planning to murder me in my sleep. Have you no honor?"

"It's a lie, I swear!" Nael'an cried, staring around at the rest of the family.

"Is it, uncle?" Shaden asked, looking unwaveringly back at him, his eyes cold. "Then why were the guards not at their posts tonight? Isn't that your responsibility?" Shaden and his father were both advancing on Nael'an now, their hands going to their weapons.

"And why then, did the assassin I killed give me your name?" Nael'eth asked, his voice matching his son's in tone. "I didn't want to believe it. I thought it was simply a vain attempt to sow discord among us. But it wasn't, was it?"

What happened next happened so fast that Shandi didn't have time to react. One moment, Nael'an was backing up, looking around in fear at his family members. And then, everything changed. Rage suddenly twisted his face, and all at once, he became like a whirlwind, the savagery of the Kit'ranth bloodline unleashed. Twin, long bands of magic surged from him like whips, sending every guard in the room flying into the walls, leaving them senseless. At the same moment, he drew his sword, the blade clearing its scabbard in a heartbeat. He beat aside her brother's blade with ease, sending him staggering out of his way. Shandi's mother threw up a shield before her, but Nael'an didn't even seem to notice, leaping at Lord Nael'eth, bellowing incoherent war cries. Nael'eth had drawn his own blade, and though he struck at his enraged kinsman with a mighty blow, his sword bounced easily off the magic shield his brother had raised about himself. In a moment, Nael'an's blade found flesh, delivering a slice to her father's leg, nearly severing it. And then, the berserk nobleman's gaze fell on Shandi, sitting apparently helpless in her bed, and the look in his eyes told her at once that it was all true. Nael'an had planned the attack. It had been he that had contacted the vampire, he that had ordered that she be taken alive. And, in his wild gaze, she saw what he was thinking. In his unreasoning thoughts, she had been the one that had ruined his plans.

And then, suddenly, as he took a step towards her, murder in his eyes, something moved into his path. The Knight suddenly stood before her, braced in a fighting stance, his sword raised, its point towards her uncle. In his maddened state, her uncle was a more formidable warrior than ever, and the shield of magic made him nearly invulnerable. But the Knight did not show any fear at all, standing perfectly still before the berserk snow leopard bearing down upon him. And then, he did something that she did not expect. He held the sword back as if he were about to lunge towards his foe, but as he set his blade, her ears caught his voice speaking a single word in a tone that was almost a whisper, as if it were a secret known only to him. The word sounded as if it came from a language like no other she had ever heard, a language that was both earthy and otherworldly in sound, a language that sounded ancient, more ancient even than the language of which spells were spun. As if in answer, the runes upon the sword the knight held suddenly blazed bright white once more, their brilliance growing so bright it almost hurt to look upon them, searing their image upon her sight. And, as her uncle charged the lone obstacle between him and his prey, bellowing a war cry, once again, time seemed to slow down for Shandi. She saw her uncle closing with the Knight, rage filling his gaze, his sword prepared to strike down the warrior, the glow of the shield of magic clearly visible. And then, an instant later, bright white flames kindled along the blade of the Knight's enchanted sword, sheathing its length in magic. Her uncle drew closer and closer to her stalwart protector, but he remained motionless for a brief moment longer, then he moved.

The shining point of the rune sword, blazing with brilliant alabaster flames, did what her father's could not, piercing through the shield as if it did not exist, and continued on, upward like an arrow shot towards the sun. And then, with an almost musical note like a bell tolling, the blow struck true. Time returned to its normal flow, Nael'an standing frozen, bare inches from the Knight. His sword was still poised to strike, but his face was contorted in a look of utter confusion, the blind rage fading. Everything was still for a moment longer, only the crackling of torch flames gracing the scene with their sound, and then the Knight yanked his arm back, sending Nael'an staggering. As he reeled backward, blood staining his armor crimson, Shandi realized what had happened. The Knight had run him through, a single, perfect blow that had pierced shield, armor and flesh alike, spearing her insane uncle's heart. He remained upright for a few moments longer, staring down in horror at the rent in his armor, then he fell with a clatter to the stones, his last breath rattling as it escaped his lips. Everything in the room was still, the shock of seeing Nael'an's rage unleashed freezing all save the Knight. For his part, the Knight seemed unconcerned, quietly bringing his blade vertical before his face, saluting the fallen warrior, the alabaster flames dying away, drawn back into the blade.

A moment later, as the last mote of flame disappeared from the sword, the silence was shattered, a storm of sound seeming to grow suddenly to a maelstrom as it filled the room. Everyone seemed to talk at once, their words filled with anger and shock. The guards hurried to the side of their masters, all of them asking whether they were alright. Lady Lalun had hurried to her husband's side, her hands sparking with magic, already sealing the terrible wound Nael'an had dealt him. But Shandi had no desire to speak to anyone, ignoring the guards that had rushed to her bedside. Her eyes were on the Knight, who was as silent as ever, alone in the middle of the room, practically ignored by everyone else. He cleaned his sword upon a scrap of cloth before resting it upon his shoulder, and then his eyes closed. At last, she saw his rigid posture slump, and pain blossom upon his face, though he made no sound of discomfort. Moved by his silent suffering, Shandi rose from her bed, Kaia hurrying to her side, and walked so she stood beside him. Though she did not have the strength left to heal him totally, she could at least ease his pain. Raising a hand, she gently touched his shoulder, the magic trailing along her fingertips, surging into him. At once, her spell crawled across his injuries, battered bone and riven flesh knitting together and the pain on his face eased as though a soothing salve had been spread upon them. Though the wounds were not gone, they would not pain him much now. At once, Shandi felt the spell drain her strength, almost making her stagger, but it did not matter. The danger had passed for now.

"My thanks, Lady Shalendrea." The Knight said, bowing his head, his voice quiet and ever-polite in tone. Shandi nodded, her handmaiden supporting her. Before she could reply, her father stood up, his leg whole once more. The lord looked down upon his fallen brother for a moment, and then turned to face the knight, his eyes unreadable.

"Well done, sir knight." He finally said, looking upon his retainer with a look that was half regret and half gratitude. "And yet, for all his faults and his betrayal, I must agree with my brother. You were remiss in your duties. After seeing that my daughter was safe, you should have come looking for the rest of us, not remained here. Have you an explanation that will forestall punishment?" Shandi was astonished. Her father was really going to punish the Knight for that?

"I can explain, lord, but whether it will forestall your punishment is for you to decide, not I." The knight replied, once more drawing himself up straight. When her father nodded for him to proceed, he continued and his reply was as surprising as her father's willingness to punish him. "Only one assassin came for me this night, only one. And as I hunted the others, I found only three in the halls. And yet, eight came after your daughter, including a vampire, who, it would seem, was the leader of all. It seemed to me that if Shalendrea was that important to them, then it was even more important that she be guarded. Since your other guards were otherwise occupied, I remained to protect her." That thought hadn't occurred to Shandi. Why was she so important to them and their employer? She had assumed that more assassins than those that had attacked her would have been sent to attack her other family members.

"Hmmm." Her father said, considering the Knight once more. "You are right, sir knight. Only three came for me and my wife, and I would have thought my life more important to them." And then, a smile that was somewhat less than pleasant came to his lips. "And yet, I cannot have a retainer that guards only one member of my family on a night of danger such as this. But, since you seem so concerned with Shalendrea's welfare, then, from now on, her safety is your responsibility alone. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord." The Knight replied, bowing from the waist.

"But, for now, I have other duties for you." Nael'eth said, waving for the knight to follow him. "With the death of Nael'an, our soldiers are without a leader. You must coordinate them. Secure the estate, and then search every inch of the grounds for more of this filth." Delivering a kick to one of the remaining corpses, he led the way out of the room, the Knight following behind him, leaving Shandi alone with Kaia and a handful of guards. Shandi suddenly shivered, the strength that had returned with her brief sleep fading quickly.

"Come, my lady." Kaia said, guiding her back to her bed. "You must rest." Nodding, Shandi allowed her handmaiden to guide her, though her thoughts were elsewhere. As Kaia settled the blankets over her, Shandi's thoughts turned inward once more, considering what she was feeling. Where before she had resented her father just giving someone to her, this time, she felt strangely pleased that the Knight was to be her permanent protector. Smiling slightly to herself, she relaxed, closing her eyes and settling in to sleep once more...

***

Shandi paused before the oaken door, trying to decide what she would say when it opened. It was the day after the assassin's attack, and, for all the terrors that had seemed to fill the darkness of the night, it was as fine as one could ask. Brilliantly sunny and warm enough that every window in the manor was open, bringing sweet scents into the stuffy stone walls of the house. Shandi had arisen much later than she usually did, feeling stiff and sore. It was the kind of soreness that would not abate, no matter how much you stretched, and she had asked that a hot bath be drawn for her to sooth the pain. She had soaked in the water for nearly an hour, using magic to keep it hot while Kaia washed her long hair, feeling the tenderness in her body slowly ebb away into the hot water. When she had finally returned to her bedchamber, all signs of the battle had been cleared away. Her whip had been hung back on its hook, and even the stone floor had been scrubbed diligently until the last of the blood had been removed. 'If only it were so easy a stain to remove from one's mind.' She had thought, while she changed into her usual light blue dancer's garb. Once dressed, she had decided to visit her new protector, intending to thank him for all he had done.

But while she had walked through the corridors of the house, she had found herself pondering the events of the night over and over again, trying to make better sense of all that had happened. While everyone else had seemed satisfied with the explanation that Nael'an had been the one who had planned everything, something about it didn't sit right with her. For one thing, there was the way that her late uncle had been looking at Shaden, as if he had done something worse than accuse him of betrayal. And there was also the brief flash of irritation she had felt within her mind when her brother had seen that the entire family was unhurt. And yet, she had nothing else to go on beyond a vague feeling that something didn't make sense in all this. Vague possibilities flitted through her mind continuously like so much mist, appearing here and there one moment, and gone in the blink of an eye. It was frustrating in the extreme, and yet, she could not shake the feeling. No matter what logic or evidence she presented her instincts with, it wouldn't go away. She knew, deep in her heart, that her uncle, while assuredly not without blame, was not the cause of all that had happened. She had been so deep in her thoughts on their journey that Kaia had had to remind her where she was going on three separate occasions, and from the way her handmaiden looked at her as she passed to open the door, she was worried that the night's horrors had done something to her.

And now, outside the Knight's chambers, Shandi wondered how she might begin speaking to the young warrior that had saved her life not once, but twice in very short order. She didn't know what was proper for a noblewoman to say when thanking a retainer, or even if one should do so. But, as Kaia opened the door ahead of her, a wave of feeling washed into her mind like a soothing breeze. At once, she felt calm, focused and centered, all the uncertainty gone as if it had never been. In truth, it was like nothing she had ever felt before. With it came an odd clarity, and all the thoughts were washed from her mind as a sound came to her ears, a sound she had heard many a time, but a sound that had wholly different effect on her than it had before. The sound of a whetstone being drawn upon steel crept around the opening door, accompanied by another sound, a softer sound, and it was perhaps that sound that changed its effects. The Knight was humming a tune while he worked the stone along his blade, the song as rich and vibrant as a warm spring day. Somehow, in a way she could not comprehend, the combination of sounds was soothing, the steady grind of stone on steel comforting. Motioning for her handmaiden to wait outside, she walked through the doorway, realizing at once that the feeling of serenity that had pushed the worry from her mind flowed from within this chamber.

Before her, in the center of the room, the Knight was kneeling on a soft pillow, his sword in one hand, the whetstone in the other. The young noblewoman knew that this chamber had been well decorated and lavishly furnished when the Knight had arrived, for it once had been one of the guest chambers where visiting nobles would stay. But now, the walls were bare, only clean grey stone left behind. Only a bed, a small table and chair, a chest with the Knight's coat of arms engraved upon it and a stand upon which armor might be stored now occupied this room. And, somehow, the way the room looked now, elegant in its simplicity, suited its occupant well. The windows in the east wall were thrown wide, warm shafts of sunlight lighting the chamber, seeming almost to be reflected within the stone of the walls. Soft birdsong came in through the nearest opening, and oddly, the bird's voices seemed to blend harmoniously with the Knight's voice as he hummed, the steady grind of the stone seeming not to disturb either. The white wolf was clad in his chainmail once more, wearing the suit with the same ease as a second skin. His posture was straight and obviously well practiced, his back held perfectly vertical, giving no sign once more that he had been injured. Though his back was to the door, Shandi saw one of his angular ears flick backward towards her and she paused, suddenly wondering if she should dare interrupt, and risk disturbing the soothing energy that seemed to flood the room.

"Good afternoon, Lady Shalendrea." The Knight said, his hands never pausing as they ran the stone up the blade's edge once more.

"Good afternoon, sir knight." She replied, smiling slightly, wondering how it was he had known it was she that had entered the room. And, after a moment, she found that for some reason, his greeting had loosened her tongue, and she knew at once what she would say. "I came to see how you were faring."

"I am mending well, my lady." He replied, testing the sword's edge with his thumb. "Thanks mainly to you." As he said this, he wiped a cloth down the length of the sword from the hilt, leaving a faint sheen of oil behind on the metal, then returned it to its sheath. While he was doing this, Shandi spoke once again.

"I can finish the healing now, if you like." She said and the knight rose to his feet, settling the red leather baldric over his armor and turning to face her. His features seemed once more to soften upon seeing her, making even his stoic expression seem pleasant, and he gave a small smile.

"If that is your wish, though it is not necessary." He said, bowing deeply to her. "I do not desire to be a burden to you."

"It is no burden." Shandi replied.

His easy courtesy once again made her feel oddly flattered, and to cover up the accompanying uncertainty, she came forward and laid a hand gently upon his armored shoulder, feeling the cool metal of the closely knit rings under her hand. Tapping her magic, she let the healing energy flow into the warrior before her, the wounds that he had been dealt vanishing as if they had never existed. As the spell ran its course, she took the opportunity to examine his armor up close and she was impressed. All the chainmail she had ever seen had had four links twined with every other link, and that had seemed to be enough to provide plenty of protection. But this mail was far more closely knit, eight rings twining through every other link, and the rings of his armor were tiny in comparison to that she had seen before. It must have taken a master smith many months to weave so tight a pattern. And once again, she had to wonder what material the armor was made of, for the metal seemed almost slick to the touch, though it was bone dry. When her magic had finished its work, she drew back her hand and the knight bowed once again to her.

"Again, thank you." He said and she returned the smile, nodding. Somehow, the way the knight acted was disarming in the extreme. She felt as if he was absolutely genuine, hiding nothing from her, and, for that reason, she felt as if she could not help but trust him. And suddenly, an impulse swam into her mind and she acted upon it without thinking.

"I was thinking of taking a walk in the garden," She began, looking out of the nearest window. "And I was wondering if you might accompany me."

"As my lady wishes." He replied, making her smile widen once more. With that, she led the way back out of the Knight's chambers and down the corridor, the knight walking beside her in silence and Kaia trialing them both, as was proper for a handmaiden to do. When the trio had come at last to the entry hall, Shandi led the way out into the gardens, ignoring the watching gaze of the guards. When they walked down the stairs, Shandi paused upon the threshold of the doors, turning back to her handmaiden. Kaia looked exhausted, her usually bright eyes vacant and glassy. Shandi knew she had hardly been able to sleep at all last night, for she had insisted on mending some of Shandi's clothing before going to sleep, and then, with the assassin's attack...

"Kaia." Shandi said and the handmaiden jumped, startled out of her stupor.

"Mistress?" The handmaiden replied, looking guilty.

"Go get some rest." Shandi said, her tone friendly. When Kaia looked as if she was about to reply, she continued, cutting her off. "You cannot serve me when you are tired like this. Go on."

"Yes mistress." Kaia said, giving a slightly unsteady bow before walking off. When the girl was gone, Shandi smiled, glad in a way that Kaia had been so tired. She wanted to have a private talk with the Knight, since she sensed that some of the things she wanted to discuss were matters he desired to keep secret. Still smiling slightly, the noblewoman led her retainer on out of the manor house. At last, only when they were walking in the warm sunshine of the gardens, surrounded with green splendor, Shandi finally spoke.

"You confuse me, sir knight." She began, looking over at him. He returned her gaze evenly, seeming to sense that she was not finished. "I owe you my life twice over, and yet I know almost nothing about you. I don't even know your name."

"I apologize for being mysterious." The knight replied, sounding a little embarrassed. "But as for my name, I have no other proper name beyond my title, at least not anymore." At Shandi's confused expression, the Knight smiled slightly and returned to looking forward, matching his stride with hers. "The Knights of Antaria are an ancient order, formed long ago for the sole purpose of serving and protecting our king. And, though our responsibilities have grown since then, and the knights were given command of the king's army, our primary duty has always remained the same. Prospective knights are brought up in the knighthood's castles, trained from childhood in their traditions. And the one tradition that is held above all others, is that our duty must come first, above all else. No other concern is so important, not even our lives. And so, to show our devotion to our duty, when we are knighted by the King of Antaria, when we take that oath of honor, we leave our names behind, using them only among the other knights, in whom we trust more than any others."

"But why?" Shandi questioned, looking forward as well. "A person's name is their identity. Without one, we are nothing."

"Perhaps." He replied, clasping his hands behind his back. "And indeed, on Antaria, a person's name is a thing of great meaning. Blood ties are considered of utmost import, especially among the nobles. Our family trees are carefully maintained, monitored to ensure that our families are known. Loyalty to family is considered the highest cause amongst many Antarians. But a Knight must set aside all things that might keep him from his duty, and so, we abandon our names, and our family ties have no hold upon us. It is not uncommon for regicide to be attempted on my world, whatever anyone else might say." Shandi nodded, the unspoken implication clear to her. The knights were meant to protect the king, even from their own family if necessary. The odd pair walked on in silence for a few moments more, enjoying the sunshine, and then Shandi asked the question that had bothered her most since his arrival.

"Is it customary on your world to send a warrior to seal an alliance?" She asked, glancing over at the wolf beside her, perceiving a rueful smile briefly come to his lips as she asked her question, before it vanished once more under his usual stoicism.

"No, my lady, it is not." He replied. For a moment, he was silent, and then, before she could speak again, he continued. "But I think the question you most want answered is, 'Why then, am I here?'"

"Yes." Shandi replied, surprised at his reaction. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"It is fair to ask, given what I have seen of your world." He said. He paused a moment before speaking, as if he was considering how best to reply. "I am here because King Aronus is an ignorant fool." But the Knight said no more than that, the way he had said it making her think that he regretted his harsh words about his liege.

"I don't understand." Shandi said. The Knight maintained his silence for a while and she began to fear that she had offended him with her questions. She was about to apologize when he spoke again, his tone different than before, an odd emotion within it, as if he were calling to mind things that were difficult to speak of.

"There had been unrest on Antaria for many years before the old king died." He said, gazing off into the distance. "My family lived in the far northern lands of my world, far from the capital. But even with the great distance between them, my father was very loyal to the king. But even in our small fief, we heard rumor of the dissent between the two eldest princes when the King became ill. My father was wise enough to see that there could be only one outcome. So, he used what influence he had to secure an appointment for his youngest son in the knighthood's training cadres."

"How old were you?" Shandi asked when he paused, surprised he was so forthcoming. This was more than anyone had ever gotten out of him since he had arrived in her family's manor house weeks ago.

"I was barely five years old when I arrived in the Knighthood's headquarters." He answered, seeming almost wistful. "I don't remember much of those early years. Just training; constant and endless training. I had no contact with anyone I had known in the north, and no news of my family for most of that time. But when the king died, and the civil war began, I learned from my instructors that my family had sided with the eldest prince, who, by right of succession, was the rightful heir to the throne. In the years that followed, I heard news of them from time to time, usually in the reports of messengers from both sides who wanted to enlist the Knighthood's aid. But the Knights stayed out of it, since we obey only the king. And since there was no king, we did nothing but maintain our holdings. It wasn't until I became a squire at fourteen that I truly understood what my father had done by sending me to become a Knight." He paused again, his blue eyes tracking a hawk that was soaring above them. "Since the Knights, and all of their squires and pages, are loyal only to the king and to each other, he insured that no matter what side won the war, the family line would remain intact somewhere. Our blood would live on."

"So what happened?" Shandi inquired, marveling at how easily he talked of whole families being wiped out by war. Truly, Antaria was a different world than she was used to.

"When the eldest prince was betrayed by his brother and slain, my family refused to switch loyalties, even though there was no way their side could win now." He answered. "When the betrayer became the King, the Knights swore allegiance to him and he used us to hunt down his rivals."

"They made you fight against your own family?!" Shandi exclaimed, incredulous.

"Thankfully, no." He said, giving her a small smile. "Though I did fight in the closing years of the war, I never faced my own kin on the field. But neither did my family survive the battles. One by one they fell, until only my father and his wife remained, the last of the King's rivals, holding our castle in the northern vales with the few troops that remained to them. The army of the King stormed the keep after a bitter siege and slew all inside."

"Your mother too?" Shandi asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

"Oh yes. On Antaria, the women fight alongside the men, they always have." He answered, his face forming a grimace. "Because I was the last of the bloodline, the laws of the Knighthood allowed me to claim my inheritance, such as it was." He paused, again, his lip twitching as if he was restraining a snarl. "For standing against the King, my family had our lands stripped from them, our treasury seized and our standing army dismissed. Everyone associated with our name that survived the war were permanently disgraced. All that was left to me to claim, all that was left of my family, was my sword, and the ancient coat of arms which I wear upon my shield. I didn't know then what people thought of me and my kindred, but I was soon to learn." Shandi was surprised to see what looked like shame on his face, and he paused once more, looking away from her. She allowed him his silence, sympathy for him beginning to well up in her heart. When he looked back to her, his face was perfectly composed once more, though she saw a hardness in his features, a look she had learned to associate with sorrow. "When the last of the battles were over, I was brought before the king with the other squires to take the oath, and to accept my title. King Aronus accepted my oath to serve him, and knighted me as he had with the others, smiling warmly as he welcomed me, and I was proud to be in his service. But when the time came for me to offer him my sword, forever pledging it to serve him, he changed. He saw that, Knight though I was, I bore the sword of his enemy, and his face twisted into disgust. He wouldn't even look at me after that, and he refused to accept my sword, which, I am sure you can imagine, is a grave insult. But since he had accepted my oath, and given me my title, I was a Knight. And two months later, he sent me here."

"I still don't understand." Shandi said, looking over at him as they paused beside a stream, watching the water as it fell down a stony watercourse, burbling away beneath the brilliant sun.

"The one thing betrayers fear above all else, is betrayal." The Knight explained, a bitter note in his voice. "Because he betrayed his brothers to take the throne, he is fool enough to believe that I would betray a solemn oath of honor for a family I barely remember, for a name ruined solely because they were too honorable to betray the allegiance they had sworn; for a cause that was never mine. But Aronus could not have me executed, as he would have liked, not without the whole of the knighthood turning from him. So when the opportunity came, he did the next best thing, casting me out, away from my home world, as far away from him as he could manage to get me."

"That's horrible." Shandi stated, appalled that anyone could be so terrible to a loyal warrior. "Why do you obey him, if he is so dishonorable? Surely someone like that does not deserve your allegiance, or your protection."

"He is still the King. And I am sworn to obey the King." The Knight replied, his tone sounding almost fatalistic. "I will serve him faithfully until either I die, or he does, and if I live long enough, I will serve his successor just as faithfully. If I did not, I would be no better than he is. Even if his orders carry me far from him." He snorted quietly, "Especially if they take me far from him."

"Well, I, for one, am glad that he ordered you away from him." Shandi told him, trying to turn the conversation in another direction, one that wasn't so obviously painful. "If he had not, I would not be here."

"I am happy to have been of service, my lady." He said, his smile returning. The pair continued their stroll for a while, silent once more while Shandi considered the Knight's story. They were a lot more alike than she had imagined. The pair paused once more beside a bench and Shandi sat down, the Knight remaining standing beside her, his armor glimmering in the sunlight, and her eyes fell upon the bright hilt of the sword that he carried.

"I have another question, Sir knight." She said and he smiled down at her.

"I hope I have the answer." He replied.

"How is it that you carry an enchanted sword, when magic was so unknown on your world?" She asked and the warrior's smile widened.

"You are very perceptive, my lady." He said, and it was her turn to smile. He drew the sword slowly from its sheath, and laid it across his palms, holding it so she could see the blade of the sword clearly. "It is not magic, at least, not as you know it. Many thousands of years ago, our smiths created a method by which spiritual energy could be bound within an object, usually of a special metal that never tarnishes or rusts, a material that, in your tongue, is named Brightsteel. The energy is bound by etching runes from the most ancient tongue of our world into the metal, the words guiding what the energy can do. The smith then offers up some of his own spirit as a sacrifice, binding the chosen spirit or spirits forever within the blade."

Shandi listened with great interest, for such magic was unheard of even on her world, where magic was widely spread. As the Knight explained, she examined the sword that he held, gently running a paw along the blade, feeling the runes under her fingertips. The metal was warm to the touch, as if it held a flame bound deep inside it. But as she ran a hand down the beautiful blade, she felt a power within it, almost a presence, waiting just under the surface, ready to be called on when it was needed. The letters engraved near the hilt were all angular, with lines as straight as an arrow. Tracing each of the letters with a fingertip, she looked back up at the Knight.

"What do these mean?" She asked.

"In old Antarian, they read as Fal-cotha, which is the name of this sword." He replied,"I believe it is 'storm singer' in your language. But the magic of the sword is not bound in the name." At her questioning glance, he held the sword a little closer to her. "Look closely at the engravings." Shandi complied, wondering what she was looking for. But, as she looked more closely at the runes, she noticed that each line upon the blade was not wholly straight, nor did they seem to be made of a single line. Instead, they seemed only to provide a base from which other lines extended to either side, lines so small she could only barely make them out. They were grouped in sets that seemed to be both above and below the base lines, and sometimes striking right through it, but she had never seen such strange designs. She looked up to see the Knight smiling coyly at her. "Those small lines are letters of the most ancient alphabet of my world. No one now remembers what the name of the alphabet was, but it is only these letters that hold power. It is these that bind the spirits within the sword, these that direct their power. You would refer to them as spells, though in truth they are both more, and less."

"What do you mean, 'more and less'?" Shandi asked as the Knight slid his sword back into its sheath. "Spells are spells."

"As it was explained to me," The knight began, as the noblewoman rose to her feet, "It is that, since they do not use the spirit of a castor, they do not drain the user's strength, as spells do. But they also cannot be altered, while true spells can."

"Hmmm." Shandi hummed, stretching out a kink in her back. "How many of these enchantments lie upon your sword?"

"Many." The knight replied, falling in step beside her. "Fal-cotha is one of the most powerful rune weapons on Antaria, and so it is also one of the most sought after. But most of the spells will not work for anyone not of my blood line."

"Why not?" Shandi asked.

"Because it was one of my ancestors that forged it, long, long ago, and he sacrificed his life, all of his spirit, to bind the power within it." He explained. "And, because he made that ultimate sacrifice, his spirit still lies within the blade, mastering all others within it. And his spirit will allow only those of his blood to wield the power."

"Out of curiosity," Shandi asked, after a moment's pause. "How many of these abilities have you used?"

"All but one." He replied. "And it is my fervent hope that I never have to use the last one." Shandi was about to ask why, when she spotted a servant walking hurriedly towards them. When he had come near enough, he spoke.

"I apologize for the interruption, Lady Shalendrea," he began, bowing deeply. "But your father requests your presence." Shandi nodded in confirmation and the servant turned, walking swiftly off back towards the house.

"Which is my father's way of saying, 'Come here right now.'" She said, and the Knight smiled. "Which means that, unfortunately, I must leave you now. Thank you for walking with me, sir Knight."

"You are most welcome, my lady." He said, bowing to her as she started to walk off towards the manor house. But, she was only a step away when she heard him speak again, this time so quiet that she nearly missed what he said. "Kael." Turning back, she raised an eyebrow at him, surprised. She found him smiling shyly, as if he were embarrassed. "That is my name. Kael Duranus."

"It's an honor to know you, Sir Kael Duranus." She said, bowing to him, blushing for a reason she did not comprehend.

"And you, Lady Shalendrea." He replied, bowing more deeply in reply, and Shandi felt her blush grow hotter. Then, on instinct, she spoke again.

"Please, Kael," She said. "Those I count as my friends call me Shandi."

"As my lady wishes." He replied and she walked away, grinning to herself. As she left the Knight behind, it came to her at once why she had blushed when he had told her his name. The Knights of Antaria trusted their fellow knights above all others, and it was only the other knights who knew their real names. By confiding it to her, he was putting his trust in her, trusting her with his identity, a secret known only to his comrades. In all the years of her life, Shandi had never known anyone who had trusted her like that. The idea made her feel warm all over, as if she had just drank something piping hot, and she felt that, if he trusted her, than she should trust him too. And that was a warmer prospect than anything had been in quite a long time...

***

And, in the darkness of a shadowed room, high above the gardens, unlit by candles or torches, the sunlight held at bay by the power of the chamber's occupant, a pair of crimson eyes watched the exchange, unnoticed by either Knight or Lady, their hard gaze fixed upon the warrior in bright armor, blazing brightly like the coals of a forge, as if they longed to burn him from existence...