A/N: Tehehehehe I left a cliffie last time, so I worked as fast as I could to get the next chapter up, but I won't promise that there won't be another cliffie at the end…I think that that keeps the readers intrigued…lol

Thankies for the nice reviews!! huggles reviewers and after several reviews that yelled at me to write more…lol jk. I am nearing the end of school now, and should have much more time to update for u guyz!

And sorry for the length of time between updates…I have been extremely busy! hides don't throw things! Peez! lol

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"That's the last one sir." Derai said with a slight bow. "All of the rebels have been either hauled in or killed."

Danric made a sour face, "Good job. Get the healers from camp and bring them to the wounded. Our men first, then the rebels." He said, looking around him. "And get as many men as possible to start digging graves before this place begins to smell too bad." Danric added, waving a hand under his nose.

Derai bowed. "Yessir," He said before turning to bellow out the orders to the troops.

Danric sighed and made his way to where the prisoners were being held. It was a makeshift prison under a big tree, all the men tied together and to the tree. They weren't going anywhere any time soon. Looking at the men and their disheveled appearance made Danric think back to the time he 'interrogated' his beloved Mel. He almost laughed.

One of the men said something crude, making the others laugh and jeer.

"Why do you laugh at me? The man you work for is dead! What is you cause?" He asked, looking at them with cold gray eyes.

"He is not dead!"

"Degebri will never die!"

As they all continued to cheer for their leader, Danric thought. "Degebri?" he muttered, "Degebri is dead!" He called over the din of their celebratory noise.

The entire group yelled out and laughed at him. Danric was completely confused! How the…Degebri alive?! He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a voice calling out his name. He turned to see one of the wounded ruffians smiling crazily at him. "Degebri…will never…die. It was…all a…trap! He…he has her…now," the man said.

"He has who?" Danric asked, taking a step closer to the dying man.

"M…Meliara," He said, laughing until the last breath left his body.

"Derai! Report!" He called and the young man spun to face Dan, then trotted over to him.

"Yes sir?" He asked.

"Do you have any word from my household?" he asked urgently.

"Sir, the post just arrived with that currier." Derai said, pointing over at the young man who was practically falling over with exhaustion.

Danric wasted no time and trotted over to the man. "Letters!" He said in an urgent voice.

"Right-o sir." The weary man said, handing them over. "The one on top's extra urgent sire."

"Get this man fed and rested!" Danric said to the nearest soldier as he tore into the letter, eyes hungrily absorbing the hastily written words. It took him two or three reads to fully get the message. In the writer's haste, their penmanship had been quite horrid.

"I ride for home!" he said, "Inform Derai he is in charge!"

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Mel awoke to the rather unpleasant scent of mold, mildew and rot. The cold, grimy stones at her back had left her stiff from her dreamless unconscious rest.

She groaned slightly, rolling her head to get the kinks out of her neck, pausing only when she heard the melodic and rather unwelcome voice of Skye.

"Awake, are we?" she asked, stepping towards Mel.

"What was your first indication?" Mel asked in a cold voice.

"Sarcastic, aren't we? Well that's not my problem…it's his. I only sit here and make sure you don't pull anything funny. He doesn't want you to escape this time. He was most upset when you got away last time and ruined everything for him. You and that Sheverath." The woman said with utter distaste.

"What do you mean?"

"You aren't as smart as he gives you credit for, are you? Haven't figured it out yet, have you?"

"Figured what out?" Mel asked in an exasperated tone.

"Who my master is and why he wants you…" The lady replied, studying her nails.

"Would you stop being so enigmatic and just tell me then?" Mel asked, hoping that knowing who her captor was would shed some light on her current situation.

"Maybe."

Mel gave a frustrated sigh, "Why don't you just tell me?!"

"Because this is so much more fun." The woman replied with a childish smile.

"Stop bothering her, Skye." A cold voice said from the dark stone hallway.

She knew that voice…but she couldn't place it, until the form of the greedy baron stepped into the pale torchlight.

"You…you're dead!" Mel gasped.

"Really? That's funny. I don't feel too dead…" He said with a cold laugh.