A few minutes later, Knightshade and Rorke found themselves tied hand and foot inside the commander's tent. A table and chair were the main furnishings. Two guards stood behind the prisoners, while the commander leant back in his chair examining them. "Let me guess your thoughts," he said. "Right now you are probably having heroic visions of dying nobly at the hands of the evil Lord Daemon and his band of cut-throats. Am I right?" Both men stood quietly, staring past him. The man sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you Lord Daemon only wishes peace? He has no desire to kill innocent people. Only to gently govern them, so that their lives might be improved. If you do not believe me, you should at least believe your own eyes. Lord Light himself has seen the good intentions of my master. He believes. Will you not also change your mind about him?" "He looked like Lord Light, that I'll grant you," Rorke said, spitting out the words. "But I would hear it from his own mouth first." The commander sighed sadly. "I'm afraid that that is impossible. As I told you, his health is not good at the moment. He has asked us to be left in peace, til he recovers. It seems you gave him quite a shock, appearing out of nowhere like that." Rorke did not reply. Knightshade could see that he regretted breaking his silence. "You are stubborn, I see," the commander said. He laughed softly. "My master likens you to blind men stumbling around in the dark, who have but to open their eyes to see clearly. He can be cruel and impatient, but he is also determined that all will see clearly eventually. One day you will see that for yourselves and will look back ruefully at the mistakes you have made. But he is forgiving too. He will accept you still." He tried to smile warmly at them but it was forced. It came out more as a grimace. "Very well. Here is what I propose. Answer my questions, and you will be set free. We have no wish to kill you. In fact, it is to our benefit that you are released." Knightshade spoke before he could stop himself. Scorn was evident in his voice. "Did you really bring us in here to tell us fairy tales? Save them for the more gullible people you meet. I have seen first hand the evil your master is capable of. Tell us what you want and be done with it." The man stood up, and walked out from behind the table. "Very well. Enough idle chatter. I would have some answers." The man eyed them intently. "Tell me of LadyKris. Oh, and don't bother telling me what she looks like. My master has seen her beauty first hand. Up close, you might say, somewhere where she would consider herself safe." Rorke's eyes opened broadly. "You lie!" he said, his voice menacing. "Ah! I see she means something to you. Personally I do not care. But my master does. Does she really lead the Council of Light? Or is she merely a figurehead? No matter. She will succumb to the power my master possesses." There was silence once more, as both prisoners resisted the urge to speak, refusing even to look at the commander directly. Knightshade saw that Rorke was having a hard time of it. This man's talk of his sister's virtue was obviously affecting him badly, and his strong muscles twitched against the bonds that held him. Knightshade wondered if this nameless minion of the dark lord knew that he had just made a very deadly enemy. The commander seemed oblivious to Rorke's reaction, breaking the silence with a sigh. "Very well. I have been patient so far, but do not tempt fate, my friends." He stood in front of Knightshade. "My master knew of your coming. He knows you were the one who destroyed the altar he created. Why he does not want you killed, I am unsure. I would think a painful death is the least you deserve. But I have my orders. You will be released. But you will deliver a scroll to LadyKris for him." Knightshade laughed harshly. "Give me the scroll, lackey. I will deliver it." The commander's faced turned red with anger. Stepping forward he punched Knightshade with a mailed fist. Knightshade's head snapped back, and blood started dripping from the corner of his mouth. The commander leaned forward, his fetid breath making Knightshade gag. "In case you aren't aware of it, the dark lord is not here. While he is absent, I am in command. You will show me the proper respect or I will..." he paused momentarily, taking a few deep breaths. "Nevermind. I see now why my master doesn't want you killed. It would not be worth the time it would take me to wipe your blood from my blade, if I killed you." He stepped back and motioned to the guards. The next thing the prisoners felt was a sword hilt, hitting them in the back of the head. When they came to, they found Klaneroid and Danae leaning over them. It was night once again, but already the moon had started descending. Nursing his sore head, Knightshade sat up and examined his surroundings. They were no longer in the camp or the swamp. He guessed, by the trees surrounding them that they were in North Bloodwood. "Relax," Danae said, smiling at him. She moved her hands gently and a healing spell washed over him. Next to him Rorke was already awake and getting to his feet. "We thought they had killed you," Klaneroid said. "When we saw them carrying you out of the camp, we followed them while invisible. They carried you here and dumped you at the edge of the forest. They left only minutes ago." "Thank you, my friend," Rorke said smiling. Looking at Knightshade, he hung his head slightly. "I must apologize for my actions in the camp. When I saw Lord Light there... well, I guess my good sense deserted me. I had hoped that my sister was wrong, when she said he did not know her. Why he has chosen to live amongst those villains though, I know not." "Do not worry, my friend," Knightshade said, smiling reassuringly. " We are alive still. There is hope yet that he can be freed from his enchantment and join the forces of light once more." "Aye, we are alive," Rorke said, his tone bitter. "It galls me to think that I owe my life to the scum that serve Lord Daemon. I have lost much honour now." "Honour is a fine thing my friend," Knightshade said. "But sometimes honour must be sacrificed for the greater good. You feel you have lost honour now, but you will more than make up for it in the days ahead." "I pray that it is as you say," Rorke said sadly. "But the memory of it will haunt me still. But come, we must return to the castle and be sure that my sister is safe." Knightshade didn't reply, but rose to his feet. Feeling inside his tunic, he found a scroll had been placed there. It was sealed with Lord Daemon's own crest. 'LadyKris' was written on the outside. The four of them made their way toward the castle. Feeling safe, now that they were so close to the protection of the kingdom, Klaneroid and Danae said their farewell and broke from the group, turning towards Leinster. Rorke and Knightshade stopped for a moment when the castle came into view. "Such a beautiful, peaceful place this is," Knightshade said, sadly. "How could anyone have so much darkness in their heart as to want to bring their ugliness here and destroy this land." "Come, my friend," Rorke said with forced cheerfulness. "Good food and drink await us. I wish to know my sister is well." Rorke then slapped Knightshade heartily on the back. "My wife, the sweet Sharon, also awaits this tired warrior. I must admit that her soft touch and a warm bed are more appetizing to me than the feast that awaits." He laughed loudly and there was genuine mirth in his eyes. The sound of a twig snapping in the woods before them, cut short the warrior's laughter, and both men drew their blades swiftly. A frail figure of a woman appeared from behind a tree. "It is I, Anna, good sirs. Fear me not, I am the handmaiden of LadyKris," she said as she timidly approached. Knightshade grew concerned, as he wondered why this woman was meeting them outside the castle walls, without an escort. "Why are you here, Anna? Is the lady secure?" "I fear for her, and her brother must know of what my lady told me this morn," the girl said. "She will try her best to be strong and act as if nothing has happened, but the truth must be known." "Tell me that she has not been harmed," Rorke said. His voice was steady, but the worry in his eyes was plain to see. "Milady is of good health, but she is troubled. I went into her bed chamber to awake her this morn, and she told me of things that transpired last night. She swore me to secrecy, but as her brother, this is something you need to know." Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Anna told her tale. 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