CHAPTER II: DARK ALIES

The woods were ominously quiet. The magical beauty of the fall leaves formed a peculiar twilight, which seemed to stop time all together. The majestic aura that dwelled here was balanced out by an innate sense of danger that filled Tarus' mind. He was at the gates of what used to be the camp of Twinblade, but alas, time changes all. As he stepped up to the entrance, two guards stepped forward to greet him. Their clothes were shoddy, their teeth were rotting, and their breath stank of bad ale, all were trademark traits of bandits. "Lets see yer pass," the taller, gangly one demanded. Tarus looked at him with the kind of glance that pierced into the soul and sent it screaming. "I see that security among the bandits has changed of late,"

Tarus spoke in a solemn yet treacherous voice. The bandit merely glanced around in an anxious manner. Sensing the bandit's fear, Tarus thrust himself, in a threatening way, towards the cringing man. "I have business with your leader."

The bandit began to shudder and struggled to speak, "V-v-very well there s-s-sir. I-I don't want no trouble."

The bandits stepped quickly aside fearing for their lives, and with a smirk Tarus waltzed into the fortress acting as if he owned the world. And what did he care? After all, he was invincible.

He walked on casting glances all around him, and taking in the sights. He had been here before, yes, many years before, but those days were long past. Now his intentions were different. Tarus walked on towards the king's hut, all the while receiving suspicious looks from bandits. Their eyes showed menace, but deep within they feared him. At last, he had arrived at the dwelling place of the king. Four guards, wielding fierce looking sabers, stood outside the door to the hut. Their eyes penetrated him like the others, but Tarus found no fear in them. They were the Elites, the most powerful of bandit guards. They were clad in a shoddy kind of leather armor, (armor of any type was rare among the bandits) and two long poles carrying the bandit banner rode upon their backs. At this show of force, Tarus halted. An awkward silence followed. No sound except for the wind was heard. Then the door of the hut burst open. Out came a man. He was tall and of a strong build. He was clad in plate mail, and at his side, a sword of magnificent splendor hung. "Greetings Hero," he cried in a deep booming voice, "Ah yes. You are the one. I remember you from long ago."

Tarus had a puzzled look on his face. The man, who was obviously the king, saw that his introduction was a bit awkward at the moment. He began again with a more grave tone, "Yes you don't remember me, but I… I remember you."

He ended abruptly, and motioned for Tarus to come forward. "Come. I hear you wish an audience with me?"

Tarus regained his demeanor and accepted the king's invitation. "Good. The night dawns, and I hunger."

Tarus simply nodded and entered the king's throne room.

The room was large, and had a warm aura. A massive fireplace was set in the east wall. And huge tapestries hung on the walls. The table was already set for two, and a fairly decent meal had been prepared. Its aroma encircled him and drew his belly towards it. "Sit my friend and tell me what you wish."

Tarus sat. He fervently looked around the room with a chuckle almost cracking his lips. "What?"

the king questioned. Tarus took another glance at the luscious food before him. "I didn't believe bandits had a sense of hospitality."

"We don't look the part do we?"

A joyous laughter filled the room. "Please have some wine, and I'm sure the food looks inviting. Eat my friend"

The king snapped his fingers and a guard came at once with a fine bottle of foreign wine. "Please," the king said in his loud gleeful voice, "Why is it that you come?"

Tarus took his wine glass and slowly savored the almost perfect taste. "First I wish for knowledge. How is it that you know me, and I have never heard your name?" The king sighed, "Ah yes. I suppose you would wonder." He paused a moment, took a sip of wine and resumed his reply. "You surely remember the first day you came here. About… what was it two… perhaps three years ago?"

"The day I killed Twinblade."

Tarus' ominously mysterious voice echoed through the room.

"Exactly."

The king replied, "I was there. In those days I was Twinblade's right hand man. It was when he fell that I became lord of the bandits. I watched as your blade slew him. I saw your power… and I yearned for it, yet now as I sit here before you I fear it. I wonder… are you here on the same mission?"

The mood of the room changed in an instant. The guards slowly moved their hands towards their weapons. Again all was still. All was silent, yet Tarus kept his thoughts inside. He merely sat as normal and took another sip of wine. "Come now,"

Tarus said in a sarcastically cheery voice, " I could have slit your throat and dismembered your guards in mere moments. This is not the reason for my coming."

The king didn't take the joke, "Then what is your reason Hero, my patience grows thin."

Tarus took a deep gulp from his glass and rose to his feet, "As you, no doubt, already know, I have recently obtained the Sword of Aeons."

The king rose in disbelief, "No." he said dumbfounded.

"Look for yourself,"

Tarus exclaimed, "I carry it at my side."

Tarus drew the blade, at which the guards began to lunge forward.

"Sit you fools!"

The king shouted. He took another step towards the blade, "Would you grace me with the privilege to see it closer?"

Tarus placed it back in the scabbard, "I'd rather no one touch."

The king sighed and sat back down, "Very well on with your wish."

Tarus paced for a moment gathering his thoughts, his boots clacking rhythmically on the cold stone floor. "I have a proposal."

The king motioned for him to continue.

"Seeing that I have the power, I wish for a bigger prize worthy of it."

"I see you think like I do," said the king.

"Yes. I suppose I do."

Tarus took a few more paces as he contemplated. He then continued, " I have seen things you wouldn't imagine. I have gained riches you have never dreamed of. Now there is one thing left for the taking."

"Which is?" the king almost shouted growing weary of the discussion. Tarus held up a finger to quiet the king, "You see, what I want to achieve will require some… warriors."

"Well this I can provide, but why our troops?" the king questioned with a growing agitation, "There are many more skilled warriors and assassins who are much more capable. Why do you ask alliance with the Bandits?"

Tarus paced fervently, " I require… numbers for this task."

The king's patience ran out. He rose from his chair and shouted, "BLOODY HELL MAN! WHAT IS THE DAMN TASK!"

The room became silent again. Tarus urged him to calm down, and the king returned to his seat. "If you wish to know I will tell you. One last challenge, one last prize, one last treasure to unearth. You and I tread upon this thing every day." The kings eyes showed his utter astonishment. "You know what I want," his eyes met with the kings, "Albion."

Silence again took the floor. "I propose a massive campaign. It will sweep over Albion easily. With the power of my blade, and your troops we will be able to overtake the land with little opposition."

The king sat back in his chair and stared blankly. "This can not be done," he said, "that is the only way to put it. It can not be done." Tarus wheeled around and tried to show his vision to the doubtful king. " 'O but it can," he said with a seemingly sly all-knowingness, "I assure you." The king paused for another minute or two. This task must surely be insurmountable. Their single band of witless bandits were not even a prick to the towns army's finger. This man did have the fabled Sword of Aeons, but even its power couldn't slay a nation…or could it. The king rubbed his chin for a moment, and then took a final deep drink of wine, which finished off his glass. "I will think on it a while more," he said, "You will have my answer by dawn." He lay the cup down which made a loud "knock" on the hard wooden table. This action seemed to end the conversation. "You may stay here, in the guest quarters," said the king as he walked away, his booming voice echoing in the massive room.

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