"The wheel of fortune rises and falls."

Those words echo in the deepest darkest corners of her memories when she least expects them to.

"The wheel of fortune rises and falls, My Lady… and right now your father is in desperate need of allies and ships." Her teachers words did not bring her comfort, nor did it seem like he intended them to, Finnian said them merely to make her understand.

"I don't want to get married." Johanna repeated quietly, hating the fear that was clear and present in her words.

"I know." He sighed. And she knew he did.

"I wish I could help you, but a tutor has no business meddling in royal affairs. You understand how it is."

Johanna didn't, but she nodded anyway, hoping as the day approaches that the feeling of trepidation will dwindle. But she begins to learn more about this so called Emrik Roland and instead of relief she finds herself fighting against the wave of dread that is threatening to drag her permanently under.

"I feel like I'm being carried out to sea." She confesses to her father one night.

"The sea is as beautiful as it is mysterious Johanna; perhaps she'll take you some place better." He tries to reassure her but her father's words fall flat. She has heard tales of her soon-to-be husband. Knows her father has heard them too. Tales of the viscous, angry man that even the Danes are scared of.

"You'll be fine."

"You've heard what he's like." Johanna whispers at him accusingly.

Edward says nothing and looks away.

Johanna hates the sound of bells. Right now they are tolling to announce a wedding, her wedding. And with each passing knell the urge to run away and never look back rises within her. For There, Standing at in front of the church alter is the captain of the Leviathan, the Sea serpent himself. Taller than most and dressed in white Johanna is surprised when she sees that he is handsome, they never mentioned that in the tales, and he is younger than she thinks anyone was expecting. Johanna almost relaxes, almost allows herself to believe that perhaps her future is not as bleak as she had been lead to believe but then she peers into his eyes, and she sees… nothing. This man is as cold as the lands from where he was born. The foreboding wave of dread, manages to pull her under this time, and Johanna can hardly breathe as she realizes that the man she will be spending the rest of her existence with has no soul.

She did not want to get married, certainly not now and most definitely not to this man with his cold, empty and cruel eyes. The uttering of vows, an exchange of hands and it's over. Regretfully Johanna passes her small palm from her father's reluctant hand to her new husband's far too eager grasp.

Her Husband's new crown captured the torch light, setting the bronze circlet a flame. Johanna watched as Emrik pushed back the crown so it rested on the tawny mop of his hair. He removed it with a sigh, rolled it in his hands and then put it back on before visibly growing frustrated and pushed it forward again. Johanna sat next to him, repeatedly worrying at the fabric of her dress, wringing the blood red cloth up with a bored hum before trying to smooth out the wrinkles that formed from her ministrations. She flinched in surprise as Emrik's hand shot out to grab her wrist before he loomed over to whisper in her ear.

"Stop it." His grip tightened viscously before he released her and leaned back into his seat, fiddling once again with his crown. Johanna annoyed, squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stop rolling them at him, and clasped her hands in front of her in an effort to remain still. She sighed and opened her gaze to peer at her husband.

Sitting high on his black polished seat Emrik, with his frightening ice-colored eyes took in his throne room with a dispassionate glance. Irritation rolled off of his person as one of his knights barged into room, unannounced.

Sir Tipton stopped short of the throne and bowed. Even in the badly lit castle the violent scar that ran from edge of his left temple down to his neck glinted red and wet, an angry testament to his hot-blooded and quarrelsome nature.

"Your Grace, the Ambassador to Spain wishes for an audience," Tipton rasped.

"Fine, Send Ferdinand in," Emirk said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"It is not Ferdinand."

"What? Then who is it?"

"Ferdinand disappeared, he…" Tipton fumbled trying to unroll the parchment in his hands.

"Stop, I don't care," Emrik hissed leaning forward with a snarl. Tipton flinched and crumpled the missive in his hands as he glared at the king. Emrik matched his gaze with a cold smile, "Just, Send him in. Now."

Eyes flaring Tipton growled and stomped back to throw open the castle doors with a violent pull. Johanna's eyes widened as she recognized their visitor. Pale and dressed in red clothing of such a shade that he might almost be mistaken for a cardinal, the new Ambassador proudly strode into the chamber.

"May I introduce his Excellency…"

"Finnian Byrne." Johanna said excitedly at the sight of her former tutor. She rose from her seat and strode towards the ambassador, ignoring the various murmurs from the members of court.

"Your Excellency it has been too long." Johanna felt herself smile for first time in ages.

"Yes it has," Byrne bowed as he stepped towards her. "My lady you're as beautiful as your mother," Finnian smiled gazed at her. She behind her, Johanna could practically hear Emrik grinding his teeth as she gently squeezed the ambassador's hands amicably.

"You have not changed at all Sir." Johanna grinned ignoring the sensation of her husband's angry stare boring into her back.

Heavy cold air brushed across her cheeks and tugged restlessly at Johanna's heavy cloak as she and Emrik took a turn crossing the castle parapets. The thick evergreen forest bent and waved as wind shifted and dragged itself through the trees. Black storm clouds drifted lazily along the empty grey sky, threatening to break. It might almost been breathtakingly beautiful, had Roland's grip on her hand not been so tight.

"And Alaric?" she asked breaking the silence, and attempting to pull away.

"He is enjoying his lessons with Father Wihtred that is all you need to know." Roland said barely looking at her and tugging her arm back towards him.

"I have a right to know more than that Emrik. I want to see my son."

"No."

"Emrik..."

"I said No, Johanna," Those cold eyes flared and for a brief moment she fell silent before anger surged through her chest and she twisted her arm out of her husband's grasp.

"I am not going to take No for an answer, Roland."

The King took a threating step forward, his features contorting into an ugly snarl.

"Why you…" He started only to be cut off by a soft polite cough behind them.

"Am I Interrupting something?" Finnian inquired as he fiddled with the fur lining of his cloak, the image of innocence.

"No," Emrik snapped leaning back and quickly grabbing Johanna's wrist. "The lady and I were just discussing private matters."

The edge of Finnian's mouth twitched upward, "Forgive me, but Sir Tipton is looking for you, he said something about the Danes."

Roland's grip became almost painful and Johanna tried to pull away from him, not bothering in being subtle. As she expected the Ambassadors blue eyes flickered to their joined hands, his smile becoming strained.
"If it pleases you, perhaps Her Grace can show me around the parapets while you and Tipton engage your affairs."
"It will not please me Finnian," Emrik replied frostily but let her go none the less. Roland glared Byrne before turning on his ankle and stomping past them and out of sight.

For a moment neither said anything as they stared into the empty space between them.

"So, you will be leaving tomorrow." Johanna said staring up at the Ambassador.

"The negotiations with your husband proved fruitless, but no one in the Spanish court was expecting otherwise."

"One day you shall have to tell me how a tutor to an English king became the ambassador to Spain."

"It's a long and unpleasant tale, My Lady. Truthfully I was drunk for most of it." Finnian laughed and ran a hand through his pale blond hair, his blue eyes shifting from her face to the sky as if trying to forget a memory. She gave a weak chuckle in response and began to continue her walk along the castle wall.

"I shall miss your company your Excellency." Johanna murmured, trying to push against the wave of nausea that threatened to overcome her at the thought of being left alone again.

"Tell me my lady, are you happy here?"

The question seemed to come out of know where and Johanna turned to glance back at her oldest friend. Finnian cocked his head to the side looking at her questioningly. "I know the answer Johanna but I need to hear it from you."

Johanna glanced around the castle walls wary, he husbands "friends" tended to be everywhere. Paranoid that the wrong person could be listening she pulled her lips back into an empty smile and lied.

"I am as happy as is expected."

"Johanna." Finnian sighed wearily.

"The wheel of fortune rises and falls, My Lady." He said meeting her gaze before taking a step towards her. Johanna shivered and drew her cloak about her protectively.

He continued forward, "The Danes are growing bolder in their attacks. Emrik's need for soldiers is becoming well known, and your father is concerned for your wellbeing."

She let out a dismissive snort.

The ambassador stopped and leaned against the cold stone railing of the parapet, looking over at the fog covered landscape. His breath misted in the cool air as he breathed.

"Edward wants you home but not against your will, I can make it so that you see your son again." Johanna's eyes snapped to his, surprised. "So I shall ask you to be truthful with me, are you happy here?"

Johanna gazed at Finnian, taking in his pale blonde hair and sincere blue eyes. To the dark cold stone walls of the castle, then back to him.

"No." She answered.

There were two things that Johanna had to acknowledge about her husband, he was a brilliant naval captain, and, when he wanted to charm potential allies, he could set a generous and appetizing table.

In front of her lay dishes of Thick leek soup and warm crusted bread. Trout poached in Almond milk visibly steamed from its pot as the cook removed the lid, honeyed ham lay warm and inviting on a bed of mashed turnips, and Roasted lamb stuffed with mushrooms was served in generous portions to all. The soft scents of the spiced meats and wine swirled in front of her. Johanna, however, ate nothing; rather, she poked and prodded at the ham and buttered carrots that lay on her platter and vaguely listened to the clattering of plates and the laughter of their guests as Roland ordered more wine.

"Ah, King Roland" Lord Giles Gareth sighed contentedly as he drowned down another goblet of wine, the red liquid dribbling past his lips and into his white beard. "You make a pleasant host, but I know that regaling me with your naval adventures is not why you invited me here."

Emrik chuckled good naturedly, "Lord, what are you implying?"

"You want something, tell me what it is so that I may tell you No and I can go home." Gareth replied with a laugh that didn't reach his eyes.

"Lord Gareth," Roland shook his head but the old man cut him off.

"The answer is No, Emrik, I will not be giving, loaning, or promising my soldiers to help you keep your castle from the Danes."

Her Husband coughed in an attempt to hide his growl, "Giles that is not why I asked you here."

"No?"

"No."

"Hm," Gareth hummed in disbelief and popped a bit of trout into his mouth. "Because, I heard that the Danes recently attacked a village under your protection not but three days ride from here."

Johanna raised her knife and cut into ham, watching the storm brew in her husband's eyes. Roland opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by Gareth who twirled his fork in his large hands with mock thoughtfulness. "And that you knew they would attack but that you could not raise enough men to take up arms."

Johanna bit into the small piece of ham and chewed carefully watching with some amusement as Roland was visibly fighting with himself to maintain his polite smile. He moved his chair closer to Gareth. The old man smirked at him.

"Are you denying that you are in need of men to defend this castle Emrik?"

"Giles," Roland started, clenching his fist in frustration as the doors to the dining hall flew open.

"My King, we have some visitors," Henry the attendant strode into the room, his face red and worried. "Later."

"But."

Roland ignored him.

"My lord please… we have-" Emrik held up his hand.

"We have men to defend the Castle, Giles, I am not worried."

Johanna scoffed, "a hundred men, barely enough to guard the parapets. If you cannot see the issue with that, then perhaps you should return to your ships."

A vein in Roland's forehead pulsed as he cocked his head to the side as both he and Gareth turned to look at her.

"Oh? What do you mean, Wife?"

"You're a man of the ocean, My Lord. Sea Monsters are strongest in the water. But…" she paused to take a bite of the carrot and glared at her husband from across the table, "Take them out of the sea and suddenly they collapse under their great weight into a heap of nothing."

The room fell silent.

"Aha! I will take that as my cue to leave," Gareth chuckled patting his enormous stomach as he rose from his seat. "When the woman speaks with more sense than the King, Giles must flee."

The Great lord waddled from his seat, barreled over poor Henry and called his own attendants to him with a loud snap of his over large fingers; they followed him without a word. Soon the only ones remaining in the hall were members of Roland's house.

Emrik's eyes flickered with barely restrained rage. Visibly struggling to maintain his composure Roland gave her a tight smile and downed the rest of his wine. Johanna watched the way the chorded muscles of his throat worked as he swallowed and gripped the knife in her hand so hard it began to ache.

His remaining advisers watched the both of them nervously, before rising from their seats and excusing themselves. Emrik placed his now empty goblet back onto the surface of the table, close to him. He stared coldly at her, running the pad of his middle finger along the cups rim, over and over again.

He leaned back into his seat and chuckled, "My wife thinks she knows how war is made."

Johanna matched his gaze and raised her chin proudly. "I am my father's daughter."

His mouth twitched. "Right…"

Emirk's jaw clenched, and his hand stilled. For a moment no one moved. The servants present seemingly having forgotten how to breathe. The grip Roland had on his cup tightened and without a moment's hesitation, Johanna instinctually ducked, barely managing in time to avoid the goblet as it catapulted past where her head had been.

"You are MY WIFE!" Emrik roared launching himself from his chair with such force that the seat flew back several paces. It fell to the floor with a deafening crash. If possible Johanna gripped the knife harder and forced herself to remain seated, as her lord husband paced along the opposite edge of table like a caged beast.

"Mine!" he snarled smashing his palms against the table.

"You are not a diplomat, not my minister, but my wife and your will remain silent when I speak of military affairs, I. AM. THE. KING!" Emrik screamed, his red hair flopping in agitation as he shook his head.

"You are nothing but a crowned fool!" Johanna snarled back, stepping away from the table becoming vaguely aware that at some point she too had also risen from her seat.

Emrik's face contorted with rage, and as soon as the words flew out of her mouth Johanna knew he was going to launch himself at her or at least he would have, had a dagger not imbedded itself in the table between them.

Surprised, the both of them turned. The soft twang of the blade still quivering within the wood was the only sound in the room. Johanna blinked. Standing between their shocked servants stood Finnian, side by side with the strangest group of soldiers she had ever seen. One of them stepped forward and pulled the blade out of the table and back into its sheath on his belt in the blink of an eye. Dressed in dark leathers the man was smaller in height than Emrik, but was broader in his shoulders, the streaks of white and grey within his long dark hair and short cropped beard were the only indicators of his age. Intelligent Gold eyes flickered from Johanna, to the knife in her clenched fist, then to Roland.

Seemingly unperturbed by what had just transpired, Finnian strode forward and offered a stiff bow and motioned with his hands towards the silent stranger that was standing before them.

"Your Grace, My lady, as your courtier was trying to announce earlier, I present to you General Sadik Demir who has recently returned from military campaigns in the east."

Roland, still in shock, said nothing.

Finnian paused and glanced at Johanna, his blue eyes glinting merrily at her before he addressed Emrik once again. Confused, she openly stared at the ambassador.

"The General is here on behalf of his grace King Edward… Lady Johanna's lord father" Finnian coughed awkwardly, "to, and I quote, 'Look upon and determine the wellbeing of his Majesty's most precious daughter.'"

As the words left the Ambassador mouth, Emrik's face shifted from rage to horror. The General himself said remained silent. His amber eyes were pinned on her husband with an intensity that was almost inhuman. Emrik caught his gaze and paled.
"General, surely there are other things that you wish to see before you make an assessment," Finnian smiled civilly. The General brooded silently. The other soldiers looked to one another waiting for his order.

Finnian stepped forward and tapped the man on the shoulder, "Sadik? Forgive me, General Demir?"

"There is no need Finnian."

Gold eyes met Johanna as the General turned to observe her.

"I've seen enough."

The Syrian was throwing his hands around in demonstration, though she did not understand the language that he was speaking. It was low, guttural and nothing like she had ever heard. But she had the inkling that the soldier was mocking her husband as His black eyes twinkled with mirth and the other soldiers laughed.

"Did I not tell you I would get you out of here?" Finnian strode over to her with a smile. Johanna smiled, "I am grateful for your effort Finn, but until my son walks out of that castle I am not convinced. And I will not leave without him."

Her former tutor took no offence to her words but chuckled. "Sadik will be walking out of that Castle with your son, of that, I have no doubt."

"You do not know Roland."
"Roland is not a difficult man to know," Finn shrugged, "It is you who do not know Sadik."

"You speak highly of him."

He smiled and scratched at his jaw, "He is a good man Johanna."

"How long have you known him?"

"Oh we've known him a long time." A voice chirped from behind Finnian.
The Syrian was pulling his horse and was fiddling with a war horn as he walked towards them. "Centuries, one might say."

He flashed a handsome smile, "I've personally known him for -."

"Ashur." Though he did not raise his voice, The Generals words cut through the conversation and instantly they all fell silent. General Demir was walking towards them. His gait was slow and he was slightly hunched over to the side to allow the small chestnut-haired boy beside him to have a better grip his hand.

For the briefest of moments, Johanna forgot to breathe. How long ago had it been that she last held her son? Alaric hadn't been walking yet and Johanna with distressed realization that she had missed her son's first steps. Johanna's heart gave a sudden lurch and without thinking she ran towards them.

"Alaric!"

Her son said nothing but shuffled back a few steps.

"Say Hello to your Mother," The General intoned quietly and gently pushed her son towards her.

"Hello," Her small boy looked up at her with curious grey eyes as she moved to kneel down in front of him.

"mon trésor," Johanna smiled. She closed her eyes briefly and focused on the cold brush of air against her face and the hard packed dirt digging into her knees before she forced back a sob as she realized her son did not recognize her. Opening her eyes she slowly held out her arms encouraging her son to come closer. Alaric shuffled from one foot to the other, took a step forward and then paused to look up at The General. General Demir sent her a sympathetic look and guided Alaric closer to her, before pulling his hand away.

Johanna's heart beat painfully against her ribs as she wiped away some of the moisture that had collected in the corner of her eye and gently gathered Alaric in her arms in a tight hug.

"Qui est le plus beau garçon du monde?" Johanna sighed, kissing Alaric's soft cheek and gently brushed her fingers through his wavy auburn hair.

"Je ne sais pas." Her son blushed and shrugged before he wrapped his small arms around her neck and returned her hug. Johanna inhaled and her chest constricted painfully.

For the briefest of moments, nothing else mattered.

"My apologies My Lady but…We have to go," The General said, not unkindly.

Reluctantly she set Alaric down.

"What are we to do now?"

"He can ride with Medina." The General motioned towards the Syrian. Medina smiled and picked up her son and placed him on his horse, before jumping into the saddle.

"You know how to ride?" Ashur asked cheerfully. Alaric shook his head. "Father wouldn't let me."

The Syrian's grin widened. "Well consider this your first lesson, grab the reins."

"Sigurd, take a few of the others and follow behind us through trees. Make sure we are not being followed." The General ordered at a grouping of trees at the edge of the path. Johanna looked at him in confusion before a tall youth with thick tawny hair and a scar running from his left brow down to his chin stepped out of the shadows from behind a large Alder. Sigurd silently motioned towards a few members of their party and quickly they moved towards the forest, their retreating figures disappearing in the blink of an eye. Sigurd moved to grab his horse, when he paused and turned around removing a thick cape from around his shoulders he stepped towards her and quickly held it up to her face.

She flinched, "what are you doing?"

"Take the plaid m'lady." Sigurd offered the thick blanket towards her once again. "It'll rain soon and you don't want to fall ill." From over his shoulder Ashur paused Alaric's riding lesson to mutter something in that strange language to his friend. The result of his commentary had Sigurd blushing profusely and refusing to meet her eyes as she reached over and took the blanket.

"Thank you, " Johanna said as Sigurd bowed slightly before moving towards Ashur and raising a hand, smacked the Syrian across the back of the head.

"And me? General Demir?" Johanna turned to look up at the stoic man. He peered at her thoughtfully. In the distance thunder rumbled.

"You may address me as Sadik." He answered softly while testing the straps on his rides saddle before lifting himself up onto the horse.

"Why?" She asked without thinking, the informality of his request surprising her. He blinked but did not seem offended by her bluntness and offered a small reassuring smile.

"We will be riding together for over a month, and I imagine its best that we start to get acquainted."
The great brown stead padded towards her.

"And if it pleases your Grace, you could ride with me."

"My husband was not generous to provide me with my horse?" Johanna said more as a statement than an inquiry while she ran her fingers through the horse's mane.

"Afraid not My Lady," He replied.

"Then it will please me just fine General," Johanna replied nodding as she moved forward. He bent over and lifted her up to place her in front of him with surprising ease.

"Your husband was not willing to part with anything if I am to be honest."

"May I ask what you said to change his mind?" She asked flinching as a cold drop of rain landed on her forehead.

"Nothing that should ever be repeated in a Lady's presence." The General gave a soft chuckle.

The rain was starting to fall in earnest now. Johanna blinked away the water from her vision and watched as few paces in front of them Ashur Medina unclasped his cloak and draped it around Alaric's tiny shoulders protecting him from the cold.

"May I have that?" He gently pointed towards the thick blanket in her hands. Johanna handed it to him.

"Lean forward please."

"Will we be riding all night?" She asked, stiffly moving forward as the he wrapped Sigurd's plaid cape around her and adjusted it to cover her head.

"Yes," He answered with a sigh, reaching around her to grab a hold of the reins, "and most of tomorrow too I reckon, maybe even the day after that."

Johanna said nothing, and the General, misinterpreting her silence for displeasure added hastily, "It is just until I am certain your Lord Husband isn't following us and then we'll rest properly, you have my word."

"I am no stranger to long rides Sir, my concern is for my son."

"Of course," The General exhaled, his breath misting in the cold.

From beneath the hood Johanna observed the sky turn a vicious black as the dark storm clouds finally overcame the dying sun. The rain began to come down in icy sheets, drenching the dirt path. The soldiers began to curse loudly and made a mad dash to cover themselves from the freezing shower. The Syrian watched and laughed at his companions, before leaning down and instructing her son to direct the horse over to Sigurd. They encircled the young soldier who by now looked more like an irritated, drenched cat. He glared unhappily while Ashur rode around him, and her son giggling at the Syrian's encouragement, tossed a blue cloak over Sigurd's head making him look like a wet indigo specter, much to delight of the others as they began to laugh.

"Move out." General Demir ordered and instantly the others scrambled to obey.

As they slowly rode away, Johanna twisted around briefly to look over the Generals shoulder, back at Roland's castle. The great black stone walls loomed menacingly towards the stormy sky, the heavy downpour gave the castle a dark hazy almost mirage like appearance, a place of nightmares.

Twisting back around Johanna shivered.

It had been a month. A month of riding, a month of getting to know her son as well as the strange group of soldiers that were her constant companions. And now they were only a day's ride away from her childhood home, her father's castle. As much as Johanna was elated she couldn't help but feel the slightest sorrow at their eventual parting. Sadik's soldiers were a rowdy group, an unlikely mesh of cultures, temperaments and skills that had no business working with each other and yet the General, with parental like authority and a tremendous amount of patience had somehow molded them into a fine, albeit, small militia, capable of feats that Johanna never thought possible from such a diverse group.

She sighed contentedly and wrapped Alaric in Sigurd's plaid, kissing her sleeping son on his warm brow. Next to her, Sadik was tending to the fire.

Across from them Ashur laid several blankets on top of one another on the floor and laying down on one corner grabbed the edge of the blankets and promptly rolled himself up into a ball. The dark top of his hair was the only thing visible beneath the sheets.

"Has he always been like that?" Johanna asked giggling as she pointed to Ashur's snoring form.
"Yes." Sadik replied with a laugh going down to one knee and placing a few more logs onto the fire.

"Believe it or not he was worse when he was younger."

"I do believe it, also he told me a very interesting and scandalous rumor about you and the Queen of Spain."

"It is not true Your Grace." Sadik coughed awkwardly while Ashur giggled in his "sleep."

"Johanna."
"Hm?"
"You may address me as Johanna."

Sadik blinked, his gold eyes warmed as he nodded at her, "Johanna then. And I say to you again Johanna, it's not true. I deny it." With those words he lightly threw the stick that he had been using on the fire towards Ashur's snickering form. A small "ow" emitted from the blankets as the stick hit true and nailed the visible pile of hair. Shaking his head Sadik moved to sit next to her, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement.

"You are a terrible liar Sadik," Johanna answered elbowing his side gently. He looked at her surprised.

"What?"

"Nothing," He smiled and returned to staring at the fire in front of them. They settled into a comfortable silence.

"Tomorrow I will finally be home."
"Does that please you?"
"I'm not sure yet, at first that was the only thing that I wanted and now."

"Now?"
"Now I think I will miss traveling with you and the others." Johanna paused, "Where will you all go?"

"It depends I suppose, on who hires us next." Sadik answered as he scratched at his greying beard.

"My Father is always in need of more soldiers," She looked at him, "Perhaps you could stay?"

Sadik's amber eyes caught her gaze as he turned to look at her, "Would you like that?"

Johanna smiled at him and nodded.

"General, I wish to reward the man that has returned my daughter."

"No reward is necessary Your Grace," Sadik replied politely.

King Edward shook his head, "I insist."

Sadik looked to Johanna and she gave a soft encouraging nod.

"With respect Your Grace, I humbly request the Killahead Forest and the right for my men to settle there as payment."

"There are going to be more of you?" Her brother asked unhappily. "Father please we can't let more foreign heath-"
"Be silent Henry." King Edward cut him off.

Her father weighed the soldiers long and carefully with his eyes. "Done, General Demir I give to you and your soldiers the forest of Killahead to do with as you please."

Satisfied, Sadik bowed deeply and moved to lead his men away, when Henry angrily asked, "and what is the first thing you are going to do?"

"Why I think we will build a bridge." Sadik's amber eyes flickered from Henry then to her father.

"A bridge?" Edward chuckled along with the rest of the court, "In the middle of a forest?"
"Purely symbolic your grace," Finnian flashed a soft smile, "The Killahead bridge will be a symbol of our two worlds meeting."