Author's Note

This story is set in the Pelagir hills about a generation after Vanyel's adventures in the Last Herald-Mage trilogy. I chose the Tayledras very deliberately to reflect the characters I was writing. After finishing the story, I discovered other characters in other stories who share names with some of my characters. This is pure coincidence, and is not intended to infringe upon any other stories. I simply invented names that suit my characters. I would also like to thank Mendeia for agreeing to be my beta.

Warning: contains some male/male romance (nothing beyond what you might see in a PG-13 movie) as well as suggestions of torture and non-consensual seduction.

Disclaimer: Although the characters are my own, the world belongs exclusively to Mercedes Lackey, and I do not make a profit from this story. I am just borrowing her world and a few phrases from her writings for my own purposes.

Chapter 3

No plan survives engagement with the foe;

The blood-mage was as clever as a crow.

The magic failed, the border remained stout

With Bard on inside, Tayledras without.

The Bard was dragged up many flights of stairs

The face of evil caught him unawares.

His lidless eyes stared out with pupils slit

A fork'd tongue from his lipless mouth did flit.

And yet the snake-like form, though rather thin,

Sent tingles of desire across Kam's skin.

—From "The Defeat of Sasseth" by Summersong k'Vala

Kamren hung limply over his captor's shoulder, trying vainly to keep his head from jolting too much as the man walked. His nose rubbed against the coarse fabric of the man's shirt with each step, and he could smell the stale sweat of someone who was less than fastidious about personal cleanliness. Though he had, partly to keep up appearances and partly because he was suddenly scared witless, tried to put up a fight, Kamren had been captured with painful ease. Literally painful; he had been very quickly divested of his sword, then clubbed over the head with a stout cudgel. When he came back to his senses minutes or hours later, he had found himself bound securely, bouncing in this awkward position, with guards on either side. Kamren was definitely having second (or even third) thoughts about this plan, and wondered what had come over him when he volunteered. Now he could only hope that Winddancer, Rainsong and the others would be able to rescue him quickly. He squeezed his eyes more tightly shut and wished desperately he were anywhere else.

Kamren felt the large man carrying him begin to climb, and figured they must be getting into the hills now. His head throbbed with each step, and he could feel a trickle of blood making its way from the gash on his temple up into his hair. He hoped he would be set down soon; travelling upside down with a pounding headache was starting to make him nauseous. He tried to count the steps his carrier took, but his head swam and everything blurred.

Kamren struggled back to awareness, wondering what was happening. When he felt his captor begin to move again, Kamren realized they had stopped. He risked opening his eyes, and waited for them to focus. When they did, Kamren saw flagstone floors and walls of well-fitted masonry. His heart leapt. I'm inside! he thought. That means the barriers are down! He closed his eyes and hoped Winddancer would come for him soon. As far as Kamren was concerned, this miserable adventure couldn't end too soon. He tried to focus on clearing his head, but pain swam dizzily in front of his eyelids, and his stomach churned with fear and nausea. He was helpless, and his only hope of escape lay in an ambush that was still on the other side of the walls, seemingly a world away.

"Top of the Tower," a gruff voice advised, and Kamren felt his captor nod, then start climbing what felt like an endless staircase. He realized with a shock that he was going directly to the master of the fortress, or at least a high-level subordinate, rather than going to the dungeon as he had expected. He tried to prepare himself and bring his fuddled mind into focus, but Kamren was hovering on the edge of panic, and none of the centering exercises he had learned could suppress it. At this point, his only hope was that he could keep what scant control he had of his stomach and not disgrace himself.

As they emerged through a door at the top of the stairs, Kamren could feel sunlight on his back. He was set roughly on the stones and lay where he fell, trying to catch his breath. "Remove his bonds," ordered a new voice, soft and sibilant, "and bring his baggage here."

The ropes holding Kamren's wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles loosened and fell away. Slowly, he opened his eyes and blinked in the sunlight, eyes watering with pain. He could see no one, but behind him he heard the door close quietly, leaving no sound except softly hissing breath somewhere out of his field of vision.

"So," the voice finally said, "you are in league with those bird-loving fools." It was not a question, and for a moment, Kamren thought the plan had failed. But no, he reminded himself. He can't know about the spell. He was probably just informed of our parting and made assumptions based on that. Kamren's hopes were dashed as soon as the mage started speaking again.

"I found that masterful spell someone laid on you. Trust me, we will not be interrupted." His voice had taken on seductive overtones. Kamren felt a shiver run down his back at the implied promise, in spite of his efforts to resist. In a startling flash of understanding, Kamren realized that the Adept was using a bit of the Bardic Gift, or something like it, to manipulate his reactions. Then the sense of the words penetrated through the pain and rising desire and his heart sank as he realized that Winddancer would not be able to save him.

The mage glided into Kamren's field of vision, and Kamren received another shock. He was barely human. His shape was that of a man, tall and lithe. As he walked, he moved with a boneless grace, seeming to flow forward rather than walk. The mage wore tight-fitting leather that concealed nothing of his considerable physical attributes, and Kamren found himself blushing hotly. The mage's skin had a strange matte quality to it, and Kamren realized with a start that that all of his visible body was covered in tiny, hard scales. Kamren looked up into the mage's face and immediately wished he hadn't. The thin mouth and flat nose were surmounted by a pair of perfectly round lidless eyes. The pupils were vertical slits, the irises a very pale yellow. Kamren found himself trapped, whether unable or unwilling to look away he couldn't say. He was repulsed, yet at the same time, the face and body held a fascination and attraction that he couldn't resist. He could feel his body responding, and blushed even hotter. He hoped his reaction wasn't as obvious as he feared it was. The wide mouth widened further, and Kamren could see the tips of what appeared to be fangs as the mage smiled, the eyes taking note of Kamren's very physical reaction before returning to his face.

"I am Sasseth," he announced, as if the name alone should impress Kamren with his importance. "From now on, you do as I wish. First, tell me about these friends of yours, these Birdlovers. What have they been up to this past week skulking around the edges of my little kingdom?" Sasseth put one long-fingered hand on his hip, sauntering over to lean in closer. His lips parted slightly and a narrow tongue, delicately forked at the tip, licked them seductively. Kamren shivered, but firmly reminded himself of the danger the others would be in if he gave in.

"I don't know what they're doing," Kamren answered as truthfully as he dared. His voice sounded hoarse and raw, and scratched in his throat. He swallowed hard around the lump of fear. In all honesty, he didn't know the technicalities of their magic, just the basic plan behind it. Hopefully he could get by with the bare, literal truth, for he didn't think he would be able to lie convincingly. He knew, however, that he would not be able to stand up to determined interrogation and would soon be telling this creature everything he knew; already he could feel his body reacting to Sasseth's blatant sexuality and the force of his seduction. Kamren was more sure with each passing heartbeat that there was mindmagic (or possibly true magic?) behind it. He only hoped that he could buy enough time, distract the mage long enough with half-truths, for the Hawkbrothers to discover that their plan had failed and get away. Kamren knew now that this mage was more powerful than the Tayledras had imagined, and that he himself was as good as dead already. He now hoped fervently that Winddancer would not come for him. It could only lead to more deaths and eventual defeat. Despair threatened to overwhelm him, and fought back a whimper of fear.

Kamren's answer must have betrayed a hint of hesitation, for Sasseth pulled himself up. "No matter," the mage said casually. "You will soon tell me all you know. But first, I will finish my business with you. Then I can find out about your friends."

Kamren craned his neck to watch as Sasseth glided behind him, then scrambled around to face the Adept when he heard the jangle of lute-strings. The mage had dropped the padded case and was holding the uncovered lute with an expression of distaste. He contemplated it for a few heartbeats, while Kamren sat staring in an agony of suspense, wondering what was about to happen. Suddenly, as Kamren cried out in protest, Sasseth whirled the instrument over his head and smashed it against the stones beneath his feet. The lute, as if protesting this harsh treatment, jangled discordantly as it broke. Provoked to greater destruction by the sound, Sasseth tore at the instrument with his long fingernails, not stopping until all that was left was a pile of unrecognizable splinters and coiled strings at his feet. Kamren's heart pounded in fear as he witnessed the rage directed at a mere piece of wood and string; how much more would the Blood-Adept be capable of directing at a human who crossed his wishes? And, a tiny voice inside Kamren's head wondered, how much energy will he get from my death that he can then use against Winddancer?

Only when the pile of wood bore not even a passing resemblance to a lute did Sasseth turn his gaze, so threatening yet so loaded with promise, back to Kamren. In spite of his outrage over what had been done to his lute, and in spite of his very personal fear for his own safety, Kamren was once more caught in that mesmerizing gaze, and his skin once more began to tingle. He tried to hold on to his resolve to keep everything he knew to himself, but he had no illusions that he could resist Sasseth. And when Kamren could resist no longer, Winddancer and the scouts would be doomed.

Sasseth favored him with another predatory, fang-tipped smile. "Please," he said in a tone calculated to simultaneously threaten and promise, "don't make this harder on yourself. Tell me about the Adept who laid that spell on you." He traced a pointed fingernail down the side of Kamren's throat, eliciting a shiver of mingled arousal and fear. Kamren knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that Sasseth could kill him as easily as he was making Kamren need him. He swallowed his moan of fear and pleasure, and tried to frame a non-answer.

* * *

Winddancer fought down despair. Stormcrow had reported that Kamren had indeed been brought inside the fortress, but the shields were still in place. Somehow, the spell hadn't worked, and no one had thought to have a plan for this contingency. Winddancer had been so certain of his abilities both to create and to hide the spell that no one had even considered the possibility of failure. Wasn't there a Shin'a'in proverb that fit this situation? Even the best plan seldom survives the first encounter with the enemy. Or perhaps, When you plan for almost everything, the one thing you failed to plan for will happen. Well, they had encountered the enemy, and the one thing they had not planned for had come to pass. Winddancer writhed with guilt. He had convinced everyone, including Kamren, that his abilities were beyond doubt or question, and somehow he had failed. Now Kamren, like the plan, would not survive, unless they could devise a new way to get him out of there, and fast. Winddancer knew Kamren didn't have much time before the mage did whatever it was that he had wanted Kamren for, and that purpose was almost certainly fatal. A sudden wave of fierce protectiveness and love nearly overwhelmed Winddancer for a moment. Even if he can't stay with me afterwards, he vowed to himself, I MUST save him. Doubt once more assailed him. But how?

Winddancer took a deep breath, reminding himself that hysteria and panic would help no one. There would be plenty of time to beat himself up later, if only they could survive to see later. Think! He told himself. There must be a way in. They couldn't break the shields from the outside; he was simply not strong enough for that, and the other mages were all scattered too far away to be of any use, even if all of them together would be able to manage it, which was not entirely certain. Breaking them from the inside had failed, though Winddancer still couldn't see how. He had set that spell very carefully. Once more he shied away from allowing the guilt to rise up and overwhelm him. What remained? The only other ways Winddancer knew to break a spell were to persuade the caster to take it down (Not bloody likely, he thought) or to kill him. Either one of those required being inside the fortress. They did have an agent inside, but Winddancer could think of no way to contact him, short of sending Hwaar with a written message, even assuming Kamren would have the freedom to receive the note and the ability to read it. If that fell into enemy hands, it would make the current situation even worse. And this was assuming that Kamren, with no true magic of his own, would be able to take on and defeat an Adept-level mage and probably his bodyguards as well. Winddancer did not think that was a reasonable assumption to make.

Winddancer found his mind spinning in circles, once more spiraling in a loop that led to panic and despair. He took another steadying breath and ran through a calming exercise in his mind. Kamren was counting on him, and the scouts were looking to him for direction. This mess was of his making, so it was up to him to fix it. He would not let them down again.

:I can help you.: The mindvoice seemed to come from nowhere, and Winddancer looked around in surprise. The voice had a definite feminine quality to it, but it was no one he recognized, certainly not one of the scouts hidden in the nearby trees and surrounding brush.

:Who are you?: he asked.

:There is no time to explain,: came the answer. :I cannot speak long or I will be caught. They are on the roof, and your friend will not be able to resist much longer. Soon he will tell all he knows, and then he will die. Music is the key. It may…: The voice paused broke off abruptly, then hastily added, :They will find me. I must go. Zhai'helleva.: She was gone from his mind as suddenly as she had appeared.

Winddancer puzzled over this communication for a moment. Where did it come from? Whoever it was, she had intimate knowledge, both of the enemy in general and of what was happening right now. That means she's inside! Winddancer thought in surprise. He remembered what she had said about Kamren running out of time and decided on impulse to trust her. He didn't really have much choice in the matter; no other means of rescue had come to him. Also, her use of Shin'a'in was a point in her favor; Winddancer doubted she was working under orders from their enemy. No, she was more likely a disgruntled employee or (more likely) slave with the power of Mindspeech.

So, if Winddancer was going to heed her advice, he had to figure out what she wanted him to do. What did she mean by 'music is key'? It must have something to do with the fact that Kamren was a Bard. Was that why he'd been attacked in the first place? But how do I send him a message? He doesn't have Mindspeech, and written communications are still as risky as ever. Mindspeech has now been shown to be risky, in any case. He obviously has ways of detecting its use. Once more despair threatened to overwhelm him.

Hwaar dropped onto a low branch so he was right in front of Winddancer's face, and hopped up and down to get his bondmate's attention. :I go,: he insisted. :Fly high. Up to Tower.: He must have been listening to Winddancer's conversation from inside his bondmate's head.

In spite of his worries, Winddancer was forced to smile at the owl's eagerness to help solve the problem. :You can't Mindspeak him any more than I can, silly bird.:

Hwaar was persistent. :Bring something. Something small. Windstick.: he insisted. :Carry to top.:

Winddancer still hesitated. :It is dangerous,: he reminded his bondmate. :There are certain to be archers.:

Hwaar flipped his wings impatiently in imitation of a human shrug. :Fly fast,: he answered, unfazed by the risk. :Hurry,: he urged again. :Save human's mate.:

:Well, if you're certain…: Quickly, Winddancer drew his small flute out of a hidden pocket inside his tunic and handed it to his bondbird. :Be careful,: he admonished the owl. :Avoid the walls, and make sure he gets this.: Hwaar Sent a wordless burst of confidence, and glided silently off into the late-afternoon sky. Winddancer turned to the scouts.

"I got a communication from inside, and I sent Hwaar in with a message for Kamren. If I understood correctly, the barrier will come down soon. When that happens, follow me inside. Kamren is being held at the top of the Tower. If my informant is correct, our enemy is there with him. As the Adept in this group, I will need to get up there as quickly as possible; none of you stand a chance against a mage of his strength. Your job is to hold off any guards inside. Don't let them follow or hinder me." Winddancer looked around the circle of faces, and saw nothing but grim determination. Rainsong gave him a curt nod. Satisfied, he turned to Watch the spire of rock through his screen of trees, waiting for the flicker of mage-energies that would tell him that they could enter. The outcome was still far from certain, but hope nestled once more within Winddancer's breast. He was going to rescue Kamren and free this territory of a Bloodmage.

* * *

"I shall soon tire of this game," Sasseth hissed menacingly. "You do not wish me to use more direct methods of getting what I want. If knowledge of this Winddancer's infidelity will not convince you that he is not worth dying for, I can find other ways to convince you." Kamren lay on the flagstones, panting and wishing desperately he were somewhere else. The late-afternoon sun dazzled his eyes as it slowly sank, so that at times it seemed as if Sasseth stepped directly out of the bright sphere onto the rooftop. Pain from the cut on Kamren's temple throbbed in his head, and his body flamed with a desire that ignited an equally strong sense of shame. Confusion tumbled about in his head. Some of what Sasseth had said made so much sense, and explained some of the Hawkbrother's actions Kamren had not been able to explain on his own. Winddancer had been acting strangely this past week, falling silent or losing focus at odd moments, sometimes drawing back momentarily from Kamren when he sought to move closer. Sasseth's suggestions made so much sense that Kamren couldn't believe he hadn't thought of them himself. Kamren focused his attention on the flagstones in front of his nose, as the safest place to look. The way his vision blurred slightly as unwanted tears filled his eyes, one of them vaguely resembled a harp.

Sasseth leaned in close, and his forked tongue flicked out as if to taste Kamren's fear. Vaguely, Kamren wondered what emotion Sasseth would play with this time, or if he was finally going to start using physical pain. So far, although the mage had not actually touched Kamren, he had evoked doubt, anger, overwhelming lust, and abject terror. Kamren knew he would not be able to withstand much more of this. He had already given away Winddancer's name and their relationship, along with the doubts he had about Winddancer's feelings for him. Soon, he knew, he would give up as much of the Hawkbrothers' plan as he knew, as well, and then all would be lost.

Sasseth smiled and reached out one sharp-nailed fingertip to trace the broken skin where Kamren had been clubbed. Kamren hissed in pain as he felt a fresh trickle of blood run down his cheek. Sasseth's perfectly round pale-yellow eyes caught Kamren's and held them, seeming to gaze deep into the Bard's soul. Kamren tried to look away, but could not tear his eyes from those mesmerizing slit pupils. To distract himself from the fear and unbidden lust, he concentrated on remembering the harp-shaped stone on the floor. Suddenly—

Pain. Brilliant, white-hot, tearing pain, as if someone had reached into his head, grabbed onto something in there, and pulled. As quickly as it had come, the pain ebbed. "You see how easily I can take your thoughts from you," Sasseth commented casually. "You would do well to remember that the next time I ask you a question. This time I only took a surface thought, as a warning. But I can dig as deeply into your mind as I must to find what I need, and the deeper I reach the longer the pain will last. If I reach too far, the pain will never go away. I can pluck out memories you don't even know you have. And," he added menacingly, "I can plant memories you'll wish in vain to forget." Kamren gasped and propped himself up with his hands, still reeling from the shock of the Adept's invasion. He struggled to keep himself conscious, terrified of what was happening but even more terrified of what would happen if he blacked out. The moment of silence was shattered by Sasseth's sudden, violent curse.

"Music! Is that all you think about?!" the mage exclaimed. "I should crush you like an insect!" Kamren scrambled to his feet and backed away from the crazed Adept, suddenly desperate to be as far from him as possible. The desperation gave him strength he didn't know he had. Sasseth was fuming, his fangs now fully extended and dripping venom. The liquid hissed as it splashed drop by drop onto the flagstones. He looked like a snake about to strike, and Kamren instinctively recoiled from him. No longer was Kamren aroused by the Adept; all that was left was pure terror and revulsion.

As Kamren stared, wondering vaguely if he could make a dash for the staircase, a large white shape flashed by overhead, and Kamren had just wits enough left to catch the object it dropped to him. The owl disappeared as silently as it had come. The rod he had dropped was Winddancer's flute.

Kamren's first thought, knowing Sasseth's hatred of music and guessing what the sight of this gift would do to his already inflamed temper, was to toss the flute over the wall. But if Winddancer was risking Hwaar's safety to send him the instrument, it must be important. Heart pounding, afraid it was the last thing he would ever do, Kamren raised the flute to his lips and started to play. At least if he kills me, he thought resignedly, I'll die a Bard.

At the first soft, tremulous notes that emerged from the flute, a change came over Sasseth. Although still clearly enraged, perhaps even angrier than he had been before, he now moved more sluggishly. Still moving like a striking serpent, Sasseth was slowed enough that Kamren was able to move aside as the Adept lunged at him. Encouraged by this reaction, Kamren modified the scale he had been playing into a common Valdemaren lullaby, one he had played so many times he didn't have to think about it anymore, and used his Gift to the fullest extent he could.

The result was gratifying. As the music and Kamren's Bardic Gift exerted their influence, Sasseth gradually sank into a kind of stupor. He had no eyelids to close, but his eyes became dull and dead-looking as a thick membrane slid across them, and he sank bonelessly to the floor. Now what? Kamren thought. I can't do this forever, and the moment I stop or get out of hearing, he'll probably wake up. I can't escape on my own! Kamren could feel panic rising once more, and he tried frantically to suppress it lest it find expression through his music and his Gift. He had never imagined that the Bardic Gift could ever be a matter of life or death. Once again he felt the lullaby becoming more frenetic, and once more he tried to suppress the panic.

With an obvious effort, Sasseth partially roused himself and crawled to his feet. He staggered clumsily and entirely gracelessly toward Kamren, who easily avoided his attack. However, some of Sasseth's apparent lack of coordination was a feint; he moved much faster than Kamren had anticipated as he snatched the flute from the Bard's hands and crushed it in one fist with a loud crack. Kamren recoiled in terror as the film drew back from Sasseth's eyes, leaving them bright with malice and anger.

"Thisss time," he hissed, nearly incoherent with rage, "I will not play with you. I ssshall take what I need and then dessstroy you!"

The door to the roof burst open at that moment, causing Kamren to jump nearly out of his skin. Sasseth turned toward the sound, hands crackling with energy even Kamren could see. Winddancer was halfway across the roof, and was already flinging a lightning bolt at his enemy. Sasseth sent one to meet it, the two bolts shattering against each other in a shower of sparks, and the mage-battle began.

Kamren was terrified. He huddled against the parapet, hoping to avoid being hit by stray magical attacks. His heart thundered in his ears, and his head felt as if it was tearing apart where he had been wounded. Fear coiled in his gut, wrapping his insides into a writhing knot. Whimpering, he squeezed his eyes shut and hoped it would end soon.

Winddancer's curse of pain brought Kamren's eyes flying open again. The Hawkbrother looked decidedly singed, and his left arm was oozing blood. Sasseth looked triumphant. Fear warred with anger, and suddenly Kamren found himself wishing he had a weapon. I do have a weapon! he suddenly realized. Kamren started singing.

* * *

Winddancer reached for his reserves of personal power once more, shaping the energy into a spear to try and pierce his enemy's shields where he had spotted a weakness. His own shields were beginning to thin under the constant attacks, and he could feel himself tiring. The Changechild would outlast him in an endurance match; Winddancer had to end it quickly. The Beast has access to the stolen energy of his blood-magic as well as the magic native to this area, where Winddancer only had his own. All the ley-lines in the area were tainted with bloodmagic. So he gathered himself for a decisive blow.

Winddancer swore as the Changechild scored a hit through shields that were failing. The Tayledras Adept redirected the energy he had been preparing to use for an attack, using it instead to strengthen his shields. They wouldn't be able to hold against another blow like that. Ignoring the pain coursing through his left shoulder, he changed tactics, hoping to catch the enemy Adept by surprise. He launched a physical attack, throwing himself forward while pulling the knife from his belt. He never found out if his ploy had worked. Kamren began singing what sounded like a lullaby, and the Adept abruptly changed.

Physically, the Changechild moved more slowly. His eyes filmed over and grew dull, and he swayed as if drunk. What Winddancer Saw with his Magesight was even more interesting. The Adept's energies…faded. It was as if the music, coupled with Kamren's mindmagic, was suppressing the magical power in him, dampening it like sand on a campfire.

Winddancer shook off the fascination. There was still an enemy before him, and Kamren couldn't sing forever. Throwing himself forward once more, Winddancer resumed his attack, drawing on his last resources to launch a simultaneous magical attack, abandoning his shields in all-out assault. The mage, though obviously dazed, managed to deflect the magical blow, but the force of Winddancer's rush caught him square in the chest, and he toppled over backwards with the Tayledras on top of him. The Changechild flailed wildly, then went still as Winddancer's blade found his throat. The light faded from his eyes as he fell back with a gurgle and lay still.

* * *

Sasseth thrilled with desire. This was the mage that had laid that nearly perfect trap; he recognized the magical signature. He would have to be careful not to kill this one, if he could avoid it. This mage, he wanted. True, he would be difficult to control. But everyone had his breaking point, and Sasseth enjoyed a challenge. He would succeed in twisting this one to his will as he had succeeded with many others before this.

Sasseth grinned as one of his levin bolts found a hole in the Birdkin's shields and the man swore. He had no time to enjoy the pain he had inflicted, however, as the musician, forgotten until now, chose that moment to begin singing. Immediately Sasseth's vision began to cloud, and he could feel his grasp on magical energies slipping away. Fighting through a sudden mental fog, Sasseth had just enough control left to deflect the attack directed at him by the Birdfool. A sudden blow struck him full force and he fell over backwards with a crushing weight on his chest. Pain stabbed through the mental fog, banishing it in a sudden clarity of realization. The cursed Birdfool was sitting atop him and had buried a knife in his throat.

He was dying. The life of this body and all his previous forms flashed before him. Once again, he was betrayed by the mortality of the body he existed in.

He could use what was left to have revenge on them—or he could escape and get his revenge another time.

He chose as he had always chosen, laughing (or trying to laugh) in spite of the terrible pain that wracked this latest body he had stolen.

* * *

Kamren let the song die on his lips. The battle was over; Sasseth was dead. They had won. Kamren sagged with fatigue and relief, feeling the beginning of a reaction headache building. He looked across the floor, seeing a confusion of scorch marks and blood. Most of the blood was Sasseth's, bubbling out around Winddancer's dagger buried in the monster's throat. Kamren suddenly doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the flagstones. When he finished, he became aware that his head was once again pounding violently.

Kamren crawled dazedly over to where Winddancer sat dazedly atop his fallen enemy. The Hawkbrother's eyes were glassy, and his skin was clammy when Kamren reached out to touch his cheek. "Winddancer," he murmured, concerned. Winddancer turned slowly to face him. After a few moments, recognition brightened the Adept's expression, and a hint of color returned to his face.

"Kamren," Winddancer smiled weakly. "I'm glad I got here in time. But I could not have done it without your help. Thank you." His smile turned into a grimace of pain.

Kamren was immediately solicitous. "Is there something I can do to help?" He gestured toward Winddancer's singed left arm and the jagged cut on the shoulder.

Winddancer looked at his injury as if he were surprised to see it. "That?" He shrugged his right shoulder, careful not to move the left. "It will be Healed when we return to the Vale. It isn't serious. At the moment, I am drained from the magic use, and I caught some of the backlash from his," he indicated Sasseth with a wave of his hand, "death. The fatigue will pass with rest, as will the headache. What of you? Did he hurt you?"

Kamren reached up to gingerly touch the scabbed-over lump on his head. "I think I'm alright. I got this when Sasseth's people captured me, but he didn't actually hurt me." He shivered, remembering how close he had come to surrendering to Sasseth's will, how close he had come to begging the creature to take him. Remembering the lies he had been told to turn him against the Tayledras, and against Winddancer. Or were they actually lies? Maybe Sasseth, who knew the Tayledras longer, had been telling the truth. Suddenly, he had to know. "You…do you…really…love me? He said…you couldn't…you were just dallying…I didn't want to believe him…but…" Tears welled up in his eyes, blinding him, and Kamren blinked them away, letting them roll unheeded down his cheeks as he searched for reassurance.

Winddancer looked directly at Kamren, his clear blue eyes seeming to see right into the depths of Kamren's soul. He put a gentle finger on the Bard's lips, stilling the confused tumble of words that poured out. "Kamren," he said, still staring unwaveringly into Kamren's eyes. "Ashke. I do love you. My biggest fear was that I would get here too late to save you. I was so afraid," he voice broke and he took a deep breath before continuing, "that I wouldn't be able to stop him. I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see you. I only wish I had gotten here sooner and spared you the pain." He slid to the ground beside Kamren and wrapped his arms protectively around the Bard, holding so tightly that Kamren could feel Winddancer's heart hammering against his own.

"He just made it seem so…real, so reasonable," Kamren whispered into Winddancer's shoulder—the right shoulder, he noted absently. "And you never said anything before; you never told me you felt that strongly. Some of what you said seemed to point in that direction, but I wasn't sure. And sometimes, it seemed as if you didn't really care, the way you would pull back," Kamren made no effort to pull free of Winddancer's crushing embrace, ignoring the smell of sweat and the sticky blood seeping through his tunic. He knew that soon, the reality of what had happened would catch up with them and there would be things to take care of, but he feared to move lest the moment they had be lost prematurely.

"I didn't want to make it more difficult for you when you had to leave," Winddancer answered softly. "If I could I would keep you here with me, but I know you have duties awaiting you and a home in Valdemar. I don't want to force you to choose," Winddancer pressed his lips to the top of Kamren's head.

Kamren's mind reeled. Winddancer's words implied that he could stay if he chose. He might not have to return Winddancer's feather after all! Elation surged through him, followed by a determination to do whatever it took to prove to Winddancer and the other Tayledras that he was worthy of staying with them. He drew back slightly from the embrace so he could look into Winddancer's face. The Hawkbrother's eyes were shining with unshed tears. Kamren reached up to pull Winddancer's head closer, and kissed him soundly. When they broke apart for breath, he asked, with the ghost of a smile dancing at the corners of his mouth, "Does that mean I can stay if I want to?"

It was Winddancer's turn to be startled. Eyes suddenly wide, he nodded. "It has happened on rare occasions that an Outlander has joined one of the Tayledras Clans. But," he paused. "Don't you have friends, family, duty back home?"

Kamren shook his head sadly. "No family that cares to acknowledge me, and very few friends. As for duty, I'm sure the Bardic Circle would be glad to be rid of me; I'm something of an embarrassment to them."

"An embarrassment to Bards?!" Winddancer looked completely taken aback. "Surely you don't compare unfavorably with the other Bards in Valdemar! I've heard you play; I cannot imagine…"

Kamren shook his head again, blushing a little at the implied compliment. "No, none of it has anything to do with my abilities or anything I've done. It's who I am that no one likes. It's because I'm shaych and never bothered to hide it. At first, I even flaunted it a bit; it made me feel somewhat akin to Bard Stefen. That was probably my biggest mistake. But here it doesn't seem to matter. Everyone likes you, and you don't have to hide what you are."

"Shaych. That sounds like a short version of the Tayledras word shay-a-chern, and I'll warrant they mean the same thing. Oh, ashke, I had no idea it was that bad for you in Valdemar." Winddancer tried unsuccessfully to brush a curl off Kamren's forehead; it flopped right back.

"Oh," Kamren shrugged. "It's not as bad as all that. No one says anything, but they manage to convey their distaste and disapproval clearly enough. Nothing overt. They all conveniently forget that their great hero Vanyel and the renowned Bard Stefen were shaych. They won't miss me in Valdemar. I would much rather stay here with you. I get so tired of being alone."

Winddancer smiled. "I'm glad. But maybe not right here. Now that the worst of my fatigue has passed, we should collect the scouts I left fighting with the gate-guards and begin to make our way back to the Vale where we can both be Healed."

Disentangling themselves from their embrace, Kamren picked up his pack while Winddancer retrieved his dagger. Kamren stared sadly at the remains of his lute for a moment before slowly following Winddancer down the stairs. The sight that met them in the courtyard took them by surprise. A small crowd consisting mostly of people dressed as servants stood in a cluster, guarded by a few of the Tayledras scouts. The rest of the scouts stood off to one side, clustered around something Kamren couldn't see. Dead guards lay scattered throughout the courtyard. One of the scouts guarding the servants stepped forward as soon as she caught sight of the two men coming down the stairs, and spoke rapidly to Winddancer in Tayledras. Kamren couldn't catch much of what she said, nor of Winddancer's reply; it was something about "captive mages", "burnout", and "slaves". Winddancer's equally rapid reply seemed to be about returning Sasseth's household to their homes.

As Winddancer looked at the former slaves again, Kamren noticed a little girl, no more than ten years old, push forward through the crowd. She looked directly at Winddancer, catching his eyes just before he turned away. "Zhai'helleva," she said softly, giving him a smile that was not less sincere for being edged with sadness.

Winddancer started, and looked more closely at the girl. His face lit up with a gentle smile of recognition and gratitude. "Wind to thy wings, little sister," he answered, then turned to the second group of scouts. Before he could address any question or command to them, they silently parted to allow Winddancer and Kamren to see what lay on the ground among them. Kamren gasped.

On the flagstones lay Rainsong. The pool of blood surrounding her and the spear thrust through her chest gave Kamren all the information he needed. Beside her on the ground, feathers slicked down in distress, sat her owl, hooting softly and mournfully at long intervals. Nearby, Hwaar chirped worriedly.

Winddancer choked back a cry and knelt beside her, taking one of her lifeless hands in his. The owl mantled, but didn't make any other aggressive moves. Kamren stood silent for a long minute, but finally he couldn't take it anymore. The bird's distress was palpable. He knelt warily down beside the owl, remembering Winddancer's warning never to handle a bird without permission, but the bondbird was busy watching Winddancer. "What," Kamren tried to say through a throat thick with emotion. It came out as a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What happens to her bondbird?"

Winddancer looked up, though his eyes didn't quite focus on Kamren as he answered. "Occasionally a bird will bond to someone else, although that is rare. Usually they fly away and become wild. Because Kytha is mated to Hwaar, she will probably stay in the Vale, though she will likely remain unbonded." He spoke mechanically, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. When he had finished his explanation, he turned briefly back to Rainsong before standing up with a sigh. "We should go," he announced shortly.

Several scouts moved forward and lifted the body, while some remained behind "to sort out the mess here," per Winddancer's orders. The scouts returning to the Vale began filing out of the courtyard following Winddancer. Those bearing Rainsong fell in behind the rest and as they began to move, Kytha chirped her distress.

Unsure of what to do since everyone else seemed too preoccupied to pay attention to the bird (or else they were supposed to ignore her, as she was technically unbonded now), Kamren crouched down next to Kytha and coaxed the owl first onto his wrist and then, as she was fairly heavy, to his shoulder. He rose, wincing as Kytha's talons sank through his unpadded tunic into the flesh of his shoulder in her effort to keep her balance. Hwaar rose into the air once Kytha was settled, and Kamren could have sworn Winddancer's bondbird gave him an approving look as he flew past.

Kamren followed the others, moving carefully so as to unbalance the owl on his shoulder as little as possible. Not that he thought she would fall; quite the contrary, she gripped painfully with her talons to maintain her balance. Kamren very quickly gained appreciation for the padded shoulders of the Tayledras tunics.

As they journeyed, Kytha seemed to come out of her state of shock a little. At least, she started being more considerate of the shoulder she perched on, loosening her death-grip on his shoulder and using her wings for balance whenever possible. About midnight the Tayledras stopped and up a campsite. As Kamren joined the mournful circle around the fire, the owl remained on his shoulder, snuggling close into his neck, her feathers tickling his ear. She seemed to take comfort from his nearness, so Kamren let her be, though the muscles in his back were protesting the unaccustomed weight.

One by one the scouts retired to their bedrolls. Winddancer had not spoken a word since they left the fortress, and Kamren stared anxiously at him. Finally Winddancer, too, rolled himself in his blankets, leaving no one awake except Kamren and the sentry on watch in the tree above. Kamren stirred, being careful not to upset Kytha's balance. His left shoulder was aching from the weight of the bird and the gouges left by her talons, and his hand felt as heavy as a rock. Just as he was wondering how to gently disengage, Kytha ran her beak through his hair, fluffing and preening it, making it appear more rumpled than usual.

:Fly. Perch.: The peremptory command made Kamren gape in astonishment. Dumbfounded, Kamren looked around at the Hawkbrothers sleeping around him; no one else appeared to have heard anything. The owl on his shoulder nudged his ear gently with her beak.

:Sleep in tree. Not on human.: This time, along with the words was an image of an owl—Kytha, he realized—perched comfortably in the branches above his head. Belatedly recognizing that the bondbird was actually speaking into his mind, Kamren extended his arm to allow the owl to sidle down to his wrist, then clumsily launched the bird into the air, trying to imitate the motion he had seen the Tayledras use. It was enough to allow her to flap to a bough in a nearby tree without shredding the skin of his wrist and hand, but Kytha's long wings buffeted his head as she struggled to get airborne. Kamren fell asleep still marveling that the bird had spoken to him, and that he could hear her.

The next morning, Winddancer was more himself, and joined the subdued conversation during breakfast. As the party broke camp to complete their journey back to the Vale, Kytha glided to a gentle landing on Kamren's shoulder. He winced as she closed her talons on skin already torn and raw from yesterday's journey. Winddancer, seeing and understanding Kamren's reaction, halted the group and fashioned a makeshift leather pad on Kamren's shoulder. "She can fly, you know," he advised when he was finished. "You don't have to coddle her, or let her take advantage of you."

Kamren shrugged. "If she is comforted by riding on my shoulder, I don't mind carrying her. I suppose she'll tell me when she's tired of it," he added, though by the light of day he didn't quite believe that Kytha had actually spoken to him. Winddancer gave him a strange look, but showed him how to extend his fist so Kytha could more easily land without hitting Kamren's head with her wings, or landing on his already sore shoulder. After Kamren had practiced catching and launching the owl a few times, Winddancer allowed the group to resume their trek. Kytha moved up Kamren's arm to perch once more on his newly-padded shoulder, gently nibbling his ear before settling into a comfortable position. It was a strange sensation, but Kamren decided he liked it. Although he knew that Kytha's beak was strong enough to snap a deer's spine, Kamren realized he wasn't the least bit afraid.

The rest of the journey passed uneventfully. By the time they got to the Vale that night Kamren's back and shoulder burned from carrying the extra weight of Kytha on one side in addition to his pack. The cut on his temple had started throbbing again, making Kamren feel light-headed. What he wanted, more than anything, was a hot soak to loosen the knots in his back followed by soft sheets and fluffy pillows.

Winddancer, it seemed, had similar ideas. Once in the Vale the band of scouts scattered, most presumably going to their own ekeles, while the ones bearing Rainsong continued into the heart of the Vale. Kamren gladly cast Kytha into the air (at her demand), and she silently followed her erstwhile bondmate. Kamren watched her go, then followed Winddancer down a winding path to the ekele they'd been sharing. They didn't even bother to go up; by silent accord both men stripped off their travel-stained clothes and sank chin-deep into the hot water of the pool at the base of the tree. Kamren hissed as the hot water stung the torn skin Kytha had left on his shoulder, then sighed as the heat soothed the cuts.

Kamren closed his eyes and concentrated on trying to force his sore muscles to relax. After a few minutes, he felt hands turning him in the water and Winddancer started massaging his neck and shoulders. "Now you know," the Adept said, "why it is that we let our birds fly most of the time. They may be lighter than they look, but even so an owl is no featherweight."

Kamren groaned. "I know." He shifted slightly so Winddancer could have better leverage on one of his knots. "So you think she'll stay in the Vale because of Hwaar, but will remain unbonded?" Kamren surprised himself with how much he cared what became of Kytha. He hadn't realized how much she had helped his loneliness while he thought he had been comforting her.

Kamren felt the water ripple around his chest as Winddancer shifted. "I don't know," the Hawkbrother said after a pause. "They do occasionally bond to someone else." Another pause, and Kamren could sense that Winddancer wasn't finished. He waited a few moments, and Winddancer finally spoke again. "This morning, you said that Kytha would tell you if she wanted to fly. Did she…actually Mindspeak you?"

Kamren turned to face his lover. "Well, yes," he answered. "I was very startled; I've never been spoken to mind-to-mind before."

Winddancer nodded, sending more ripples across the surface of the pool. "You do not have the ability of Mindspeech. This means that only an extremely strong Mindspeaker would be able to reach you."

"Like Kytha?"

Winddancer shook his head, winced with pain at the movement. "I don't think any bondbird is a strong enough Mindspeaker to bespeak someone who doesn't have a trace of the ability. No, I think the Star-Eyed approves of your wish to join the Clan."

Kamren gaped, and Winddancer burst out laughing helplessly at his expression. "You look like a landed fish," he apologized when he could speak again. "The Star-Eyed, Kal-enel, is the goddess of the Shin'a'in and Tayledras Clans. It seems she has made known her approval of your wish to become one of us by granting you enough Mindspeech to be able to bond with a bird. I suppose, if you are to continue sharing my ekele, we should add another perch for her. The guest perch will do for now, until we can have one brought up."

Kamren was still trying to process the almost casual way in which Winddancer assumed that a goddess would matter-of-factly take a hand in the everyday matters of her people, so it took him a minute to realize what else Winddancer had implied. When it finally dawned on him, he was even more flabbergasted than before. "Her…," he stammered, "You mean Kytha?!"

Winddancer smiled at the Bard's confusion. "She seems to have bonded to you. You can refuse her, you know," At Kamren's stunned headshake, he continued. "I will help you learn how to care for her. There is, then, only one formality left. Assuming you meant what you said about leaving Valdemar to live here," Winddancer grinned at Kamren's enthusiastic nod, "all that remains is to bind you formally to the Clan. There are," he cautioned, "responsibilities that go with being a member of a Tayledras Clan."

Kamren flicked water at Winddancer's face. "There are responsibilities to being a Valdemaren Bard," he retorted. "I am no stranger to responsibility."

Winddancer looked shrewdly at the Bard. "And yet you're simply walking away from them." It was not a question, and Kamren nodded unhappily. He had thought long and hard about that on the journey back to the Vale, and had reached some sort of truce with himself. He still wasn't proud of what he was doing, but he felt that abandoning his duties as a Bard of Valdemar was the lesser wrong. It might even be the only thing that could make anything in his life right.

"I had thought, because of Bard Stefen, that I would be accepted at Bardic as I never was at home. I thought I would finally make some friends. I guess I was too honest about myself, too open. No one trusted me, no one cared to be near me. It was almost as if my condition was contagious, and everyone was afraid of becoming shaych by association. I was thoroughly and politely ostracized; even the Masters who should have known better kept me as far from Haven as possible, as often as they could." Kamren sighed. "They'll hardly even know I'm gone. I spent most of my time travelling; the loneliness wasn't as bad when I was alone."

Winddancer pulled Kamren into a gentle hug. "We won't let that happen here. You won't have to be alone anymore," he assured the Bard. Kamren nodded against Winddancer's chest. The warm water had revived him somewhat from the exhaustion of the journey. Gratitude and the sudden release of all the stress built up over the past few days made Kamren clutch Winddancer tighter. The rush of emotion found expression as Kamren started kissing every part of Winddancer not submerged in steaming water. Winddancer had just enough presence of mind left to lift them both up onto the edge of the pool before succumbing to Kamren's attentions.

* * *

Kamren finished singing and looked around. He had poured all his skill and Gift into the performance of his new song, and no Hawkbrother gathered in the clearing was unmoved. Many wept openly as Rainsong's ashes smoldered and the Bard's voice faded into silence. Kamren had written an instrumental accompaniment for "Rainsong's Lament", but had not yet had the time to build himself a new lute. The song worked quite well a capella, he decided.

Kamren pulled his attention back to the present. All of Rainsong's close friends, as well as the group that had gone into Sasseth's fortress and the Council were gathered in the Heartstone clearing, which was the spiritual if not precisely the physical center of the Vale. They stood quietly, still as statues except for the stirring of their hair in the flower-laden breeze and the tears rolling unheeded down many of their cheeks. Not until Rainsong's pyre had been completely reduced to ashes and the sun had nearly disappeared below the horizon did Starfire break the heavy silence.

"Friends," he said, "today we have mourned the death of our beloved friend and colleague. Now let us honor her memory by setting aside our tears and celebrating her life. We should take our example from her bondbird, who in this matter shows much wisdom. Even as Kytha has bonded anew, so should we carry on with our lives, treasuring Rainsong always as a dear memory but not allowing her loss to take our own joy from us. She would not have had it any other way." With that, Starfire strode from the clearing as hertasi lit lamps along all the pathways of the Vale, brightening the gloom that was beginning to settle on the Vale as the sun disappeared. The gathered Tayledras stirred and began to separate, scattering down various paths that led to other clearings. Only this clearing remained dark, faintly lit by the pulsing light from the softly glowing Heartstone and the smoldering embers of the pyre.

Winddancer touched Kamren's arm. "Come," he said, "let us go join the celebration." Kamren nodded, the feather Winddancer had given him bouncing amid his curls with the motion. "Perhaps," Winddancer suggested slyly, "you might be willing, at some point this evening, to grace us with that other new song you've been working on so secretly these past few days."

Kamren smiled slightly. "I would have to find some kind of instrument to borrow first, and learn how to play it," he demurred. "I haven't had time to make myself a new lute yet, and it absolutely requires accompaniment."

Winddancer smiled coyly. "I'm sure you'll manage something," was his cryptic reply. Kamren pressed Winddancer to explain, but the Tayledras Adept resisted all Kamren's attempts. Finally, Kamren gave in and followed Winddancer's lead, resigning himself to finding out the secret when his lover was ready to reveal it.

For the next few hours, Kamren and Winddancer moved from clearing to clearing around the Vale, eating, drinking, talking, and enjoying performances. Musicians, dancers and storytellers of several species including hertasi, tervardi, and the stag-like dyheli mixed in with the humans had showed up to honor Rainsong and to celebrate the removal of the powerful Blood-Adept from the edge of Tayledras territory.

They eventually made their way to the large clearing where Kamren's welcome concert had been held. In spite of its size, it was more crowded than most of the other clearings had been, and Kamren craned his neck to see who the entertainer was. Not seeing any obvious performer, he turned to Winddancer, intending to ask why everyone was gathering here, but he never got the chance. Winddancer was looking at him with a huge grin on his face. "So how about that new song?" he asked, holding out a lute.

Kamren gave a cry of surprise and snatched the instrument from Winddancer's hands, examining it carefully. It was similar in style to his old one, but this one was lacking the chips and nicks the other had acquired through travel. It was decorated with wood inlay of various colors set in an intricate pattern twining around the neck and belly of the instrument. Kamren tested the strings; the lute was perfectly tuned, and had a rich, mellow tone. He looked up with his eyes shining in wonder. "Where did you get this?" he breathed.

Winddancer was still grinning. "One of the hertasi living in the Vale is a master craftsman of musical instruments; he makes most of those used here. I asked him to copy your lute not long after you got here; I had thought to give this to you when you went back to Valdemar. He was confident he could duplicate it properly; I hope he was successful."

Kamren brushed his fingers across the strings again, feeling the entire instrument hum. He slid the strap of etched leather over his head and felt the lute settle comfortably against his body. He played a few scales, then picked out an intricate fingering exercise. When he had finished, he looked up at his lover. "It's…beautiful. Perfect. I don't know how to thank you." He leaned over and hugged Winddancer awkwardly around the bulk of his new lute.

"You can thank me by finally playing that song!" Winddancer's eyes twinkled as he returned the embrace. "Now you have no more excuse," he added impishly.

Kamren fiddled with the strings, double-checking the tuning, while at some hidden signal the Tayledras in the clearing arranged themselves into a circle. When everyone was seated, he cleared his throat and was immediately greeted with silence. Even the bondbirds in the trees stopped moving and were still. "I have not fully mastered your language yet," he began in Tayledras, "so I hope you will forgive me if the words are awkward. Even so, I felt that this was an event important enough to be set to music. Here, then, is the tale of Sasseth's Defeat."

"As birds from Winter's gloom awoke to sing

And early flow'rs their perfume forth did fling

A solitary horseman outward rode—

Behind him on his horse a lute was stowed.

His clothes of Scarlet to the world displayed

A Bard he was and at each stop he played.

His golden voice the list'ners mesmerized

His chestnut curls his audience all prized.

From Haven southward wended he his way

At Kata'shin'a'in his songs to play.

Yet ere his journey brought him to its end

Waylaid he was by beasts with claws to rend.

Ferocious creatures magic-Changed they were

With fangs a hand-span long and short sleek fur.

Twin tails of serpents barbed with poisoned tips

Lashed side to side, foul stench came from their lips.

For days they chased him westward from his road

Into the Pelagiris, their abode.

He found a rocky clearing on a hill

In which to turn and fight, his foes to kill.

Exhaustion-fogged he slid down off his horse

And drew his sword, enringed by Changebeast force.

Poor horse within a minute was devoured,

Yet Bard by foes o'rwhelmed did not turn coward.

And though against six 'Beasts he bravely fought

He took too many wounds in the onslaught.

He woke to find himself in Tayledras nest

Being Healed and tended by the very best.

Golden of skin, his eyes were palest blue

To his waist hung hair of silver hue.

Bleached purest white because of all his spells

Entwined in it were feathers, beads, and bells.

The Council met, discussing Changebeast deeds

A mage controlled the 'Beasts, of blood-path creed.

He was an Adept, the council did declare

And near the Vale he had to have his lair.

Scouts were sent, his hideout to discover,

Out in the hills his Keep they did uncover.

A plan they formed this blood-mage to defeat:

They set a trap to get in his retreat.

As bait the Bard would travel on alone

With magic so his journey could be known.

Mages would also set magical traps

In blood-mage's defenses to make gaps.

Then Tayledras would enter castle drear

And wicked mage would leave upon a bier.

No plan survives engagement with the foe;

The blood-mage was as clever as a crow.

The magic failed, the border remained stout

With Bard on inside, Tayledras without.

The Bard was dragged up many flights of stairs

The face of evil caught him unawares.

His lidless eyes stared out with pupils slit

A fork'd tongue from his lipless mouth did flit.

And yet the snake-like form, though rather thin,

Sent tingles of desire across Kam's skin.

Sight of Kam's lute inflamed Sasseth with rage

It was destroyed in Sasseth's wild rampage.

Down by the gate the Hawkbrothers despaired

'Till Sasseth to defy a young girl dared.

She mindspoke Windancer to say she knew

How Sasseth could be beaten by so few.

She told his weakness, and Winddancer thought

If Kam was smart they just might have a shot.

Winddancer sent a flute up with his bird

Hoping that Kam would take what was proffered.

Kam snatched the flute, knowing it had a reason

And played like it was going out of season.

He poured his Gift into a lulling tune

Before Sasseth could act it made him swoon.

As Sasseth slept his magic spells went slack

Opening up the castle to attack.

The Hawkbrothers came sneaking through the gate

But Sasseth roused enough to see his fate.

He summoned up the strength for one effort

And smashed the flute, ending the short concert.

Undaunted Kamren raised his voice in song

And once again the music swelled out strong.

The mage's eyes once more began to glaze

Yet still he fought the music-induced haze.

Winddancer burst into the dazzling light,

Squinting his eyes against the sunset bright.

He came to rescue Kamren from Sasseth

While scouts below to guardsmen dealt out death.

The mage was not completely unaware,

And short but fierce waged magical warfare.

With Kamren using all his Gift in song

And Winddancer's magic swelling out strong

The Blood-Adept could not evade the knife;

Unknown below Rainsong paid with her life.

After the fight all Sasseth's slaves were freed

(Not least the girl who helped them to succeed).

Then scouts bore Rainsong homeward to the Vale,

And there it was the Bard composed this tale."

Once again Kamren used his Gift to enhance his performance, and the result was gratifying. He finished the song to wild applause. As he found himself mobbed by an adoring crowd, Kamren looked around the sea of smiling faces and realized that he was finally home. He caught Winddancer's eye across the clearing and grinned.