Author's Corner:

Dagnabit, I lost my first draft for this chapter and was trying to piece together the same material from memory. Sorry for the lapse in updating.

DotDotDotMan – Now I feel stupid… I suppose it is my fault for taking your words too seriously (lol). In regards to any changes in the history, you'll have to read on to find out!

Mad-man – Originally, I had not meant to throw in the Hector/Florina support, but then again I wanted to write about Huey flattening Hector again so… One thing led to another and the entire situation wouldn't have made sense without some sort of apology. Coincidentally, the A support happens to be an apology, so I thought, 'What the heck…'

Phantom Kensai – Point taken on Leila's death, but I am notorious for disliking following the game script and prefer to tinker around with as many situations as possible. Wow, I actually didn't notice the final dragon was a dark affinity. Thanks for the input, I will store that away for further use. In regards to Drake's composure… Yes, he should've freaked out, but then again I thought I'd be more appropriate to freak out when you're actually fighting the creature. I also hope to leave Legault in the spotlight a little more. For a character reputedly just under the Four Fangs, FE7 didn't assign him a very interesting role.

Missklutzzz – Why, thank you!

Dude – You'll probably see that in the next chapter. Just a few more days after this one, I hope.

Paladin2007 – Typically, the slaughtering of hostages is considered against the acts of chivalry. So 9/10 people who hear about it would say, 'Ewww, evil guy on the loose!' Last chapter only mentioned when Oswin 'first' heard the Curse, never said anything about what he heard after the war.

Tiger Dauthi – (gets hit by a tomato and promptly eats it) Mmm, fresh tomato… Keep them coming, err, I mean… You know what I mean! Thanks for the review!

Shadow Rave – Explanations are good! Now the catch is that whether he lasts long enough to explain anything at all.

Lao Who Mai – Hm… Announcer… Why didn't I get one of those? (mumbling to self) I'll probably be answering those questions in the near future anyways (lol).

Samuraiter – Wow, thanks for your review! I agree I still have a lot to work on, and it certainly helps to have someone prod me in the right direction. It's a somewhat humbling feeling when I read your review, but I LIKE to be humbled. (lol) Thanks!

Phoenixfire1389 – Thank you for your review!

Dias of all Final – Keep reading and you'll find out… (I think…)

GM ace – Thanks for your review!

Hammer of Terrascars – Chapter 15

Of Lords and Loyalty

May 3rd, provincial boundary between Thria and Ostia,

Ostia, head of the Lycian council and arguably the strongest military power amongst the squabbling lords of Lycia. Legendary are the skills and fame of Ostian armored knights, of whom none could possibly match or surpass save the mighty wyvern knights of Bern. Though lacking in mobility, the steady, plodding forward push led by a triple rank phalanx of Ostian knights has scattered many a foe. It was largely due to this Tidebreaker formation that Ostia still retains its name as Lycia's most formidable army. Unfortunately, to many contemporary strategists of this age, the Tidebreaker is no longer adequate with the intervention of powerful magic and hefty flying units. Still, I personally have yet to see the routine fail against a charge of heavy horse or infantry.

"Lord Uther said he'd meet us there?" Eliwood asked as he gestured towards the Ostian fortress overlooking the dirt road.

"We'll probably beat him there," Hector said, "My brother, though famous for making quick decisions, is infamous for taking his sweet time getting from one place to another."

"That must run in the family," Lyn said dryly.

Hector scowled, "Anyways, my brother will arrive in secrecy to avoid prying ears. In that case, we will probably see him around evening, where most of the courtiers have retired for the night."

"Leaving Castle Ostia in secrecy?" Cecilia commented, "I once had my doubt concerning whether the two of you could be siblings, but now I'm convinced."

Eliwood cracked a small grin at his friend's expense while Hector's scowl turned even darker, "Sometimes, Eliwood, I honestly wished that Drake was my advisor instead of this wannabe."

"Hey, I resent that!"

"Wannabe."

"Grr…"

"Speaking of which," Lyn asked, "Where is Drake?"

"I saw Drake speaking with Matthew and Legault earlier," Nils said with a yawn, "Not sure if he still is though."

"Perimeter scouting shows no sign of hostile forces in our immediate vicinity," Drake's voice caused them all to jump slightly, "Fiora and Florina have cleared the skies and found nothing while ranging parties have seen nothing within a two candle mark traveling distance. Until otherwise noted, we are theoretically safe."

"You're kidding me," Hector said, "We actually get to sleep soundly in our beds tonight?"

"Not that we had beds while on the march," Cecilia observed.

"I think I'm a bad influence on you, Cecilia. I could've sworn sarcasm was a trait I didn't pass on," Drake replied with a grin, "Oh, and by the way Lord Eliwood, someone from Pherae requests your audience immediately."

Eliwood paled slightly, "From Pherae? Surely, Mother didn't…"

"Pardon me, milord," Marcus coughed, "I took the discretion to inform Lady Eleanora of Lord Elbert's condition. During your time of mourning, I felt it wise that she be notified as soon as possible."

"You've done nothing wrong, Marcus," Eliwood replied, "Who is the messenger?"

"A certain Lady Isadora?" Drake asked, looking towards Legault for confirmation, "Does that name ring a bell?"

Eliwood glanced up sharply, but relaxed when he saw Drake's composure, "I'll see her inside the fortress."

As they entered the fortress gates, a soldier approached Oswin with a slip of paper. Oswin regarded the main with a raised eyebrow, but then took the message and read it. Without batting an eyelid, Oswin turned to look at Drake.

"Sir Drake," Oswin rumbled, "I wish to speak with you, in private."

"As you wish," Drake replied.

"Wait, Drake," Cecilia interrupted, "The defenses…"

Drake thought for a moment, then scribbled something down on a leaf in his journal. Tearing out the page, he handed the slip to Cecilia, "Follow these instructions and rest easy." Cecilia glanced at the paper, and then took off with Dorcas and Bartre in tow.

"Please follow me," Oswin said, pointing towards a corridor that led them away from the army.

Boots clomping along the stone floor, Drake and Oswin made their way through the dungeons of the fortress. Passing into one of the cells, Oswin turned a cunningly hidden handle concealed beneath one of the bunks that revealed another hidden passage. Damp and cluttered with cobwebs, the pair fought their way through the suffocating mess to find themselves halting before a giant stone door. Oswin fished into his armor for a moment before pulling out a rusty relic of a key. After another moment of awkward fumbling, Oswin pit his formidable strength against the stone slab, slowly easing enough space for the two of them to squeak by.

What awaited them beyond the granite door was a well-furnished room complete with torches blazing merrily, basking the entire room in a soft glow. To their left, a roaring fireplace well supplied with logs kept away the encroaching moisture and cold. In front of them was a massive circular table with several seats emblazoned with gold letters. Here, the secret meeting room of generations upon generations of Ostian lords, where life and death decisions were made, where treaties and betrayal ran rampant.

"I trust the accommodations are to your liking?"

"But of course," Drake said as he strode forward, "I believe I have the honor of addressing Lord Uther of Ostia? You were not expected until this evening, milord."

A tall, scarred man arose from his seat on the opposite end of the table, "Well met, Drake of Etruria. I arrived earlier in order to speak with select members of my brother's party. Please, be seated so that we may speak on equal terms."

Oswin assumed his position behind his liege while Drake scanned the names upon the various sieges before him. Choosing one, he smirked before settling down and turning his full attention upon Uther, "What would you like to speak of?"

"First of all," Uther began, "I must extend my gratitude towards your formidable skills. From what Oswin and, to a lesser extent, Leila reported, my brother and his companions could scarcely have survived without your guidance."

"Flattered," Drake replied, "I merely offered a little advice that coincidentally happened to be most advantageous to the situation at hand. There is no skill in luck, milord."

"Perhaps in a few small skirmishes, luck would be appropriate," Uther replied, "Then again, I believe Caelin, Laus, and Valor can testify that you are not a firm believer in luck."

"The goddess of fortune bestows her smile on whim," Drake said thoughtfully, before fixing Uther with a piercing stare, "Let's stop beating around the bush, milord. What is it that you truly wished to speak with me about?"

Uther scrutinized Drake's face for a long moment before asking, "How fares your friend, the Hammer?"

"Have you found our targets, Heath?"

The wyvern knight dismounted from his fearsome steed, his green hair fluttering in the wind while the sunlight gently caught the silver streak. Nodding respectfully to his commander, Heath cleared his throat.

"Yes, Commander Eubans. They're holed up roughly half a days ride ahead of us in an Ostian fortress."

Eubans smiled wolfishly, "Good, we will be able to take them unawares by nightfall."

Heath was aghast, "Commander? Surely you aren't serious about making war upon women and children?"

"We are mercenaries," Eubans replied, "We do whatever it takes for the highest coin. Ever since that fool Darin self-destructed at the Battle of Laus, our company is being hunted down. The head of Eliwood will buy us passage into the Black Fang."

"I cannot do this!" Heath protested, "What you are suggesting is below the chivalry demanded by a knight's honor!"

Honor was a precious commodity in the troubled times that enshrouded Elibe. Barring the ever dependable but oh-so-pricey Ilian flying fleets, the average mercenary brigade was a harsh mix of cutthroats, murderers, thieves, and men who had nothing to lose. Eubans had come from such a background, scratching a living off the meager soil as a farmer before bandits torched his home. Left with nothing but the clothes on his back, he had stumbled his way into a traveling troop of sell swords. Thanks to his ponderous strength with a lance, Eubans found himself climbing up the ranks until he landed himself the command of a mercenary outfit of his own. Yet the experiences from his youth had traumatized the man, turning a once cheerful farmer into a merciless soldier who took no pity on the ill or defenseless. Needless to say, the majority of his mercenary band shared his merciless streak as well.

Heath, however, was no immoral warrior prone to forget his vows, even if his duty was to a country that tarnished his name and honor. As a knight, Heath had once been ordered to eradicate a defenseless village under the pretext that the villagers were rebels. Defying the callous order from his corrupt commander, Heath chose to abandon the Bern Army instead of burying his humanity. Hunted as a deserter, he sought refuge under the flag of a mercenary, however distressing some of his tasks may be. It was a well-known fact that Eubans and Heath argued vehemently over proper conduct in battle, and a once profitable relationship quickly turned sour.

Eubans' scowl turned dark, "Heath, you will follow your commander's orders. Is that understood?"

Heath flinched, "It is my duty to remind you of your humanity, commander."

"Let me worry about my own sanity," Eubans spat, "You worry about the battle and the money."

Heath saluted stiffly as Eubans turned his steed away, "Yes, commander."

"Self-righteous idiot," Eubans muttered to himself, "It's a wonder he's still alive."

Heath stood his ground a little longer before turning back to Hyperion, "Well buddy, what do you think?"

The wyvern regarded him for a second before snorting and blowing its nose.

"Glad you share my sentiments," Heath said with a grin, "Come on, boy, let's get out of here!"

"The Hammer of Terrascars?" Drake asked, "He wasn't really a friend, more of a compatriot who got the job done when it needed to be done."

"Still," Uther pointed out, "I've heard rumors that the Curse of Caledonia and the Hammer of Terrascars worked together during the Terrascar campaign."

"That part is true," Drake admitted while Uther and Oswin exchanged a glance, "Cruelty upon cruelty piles when mad minds join together. Yet why do you need to know this?"

"I am loath to admit this," Uther ventured, "But currently I have little choice but to put the lives of my brother and his friends in the hands of a murderer."

"And in doing so, you'd like to understand the mind of this psychotic fiend, correct?"

"I'd like to know if you are trustworthy."

Drake laughed, "You know very well that I have more blood on my hands than perhaps anyone else alive, and you wish to know if I'm trustworthy?"

"Are you willing to tell me?" Uther asked.

"I warrant that any information you currently have regarding me is hazy at best," Drake thought aloud, "Let me elaborate on my past a little, so that you may judge yourself."

"Fair enough," Uther said.

"One condition," Drake held up a hand, "What is said behind these closed doors shall remain behind these doors unless I choose to reveal it myself."

"Afraid of retribution?" Oswin asked.

Drake fixed Oswin with a look that fairly chilled the knight's heart, and then his eyes resumed their normal placidity, "Perhaps, Oswin, perhaps. What would you like to know first, Uther of Ostia?"

"Tell me the truth behind the Terrascar campaign," Uther said, "The vile tales of the Curse of Caledonia are infamously exaggerated, but the secrets of the Terrascar campaigns were never brought to light, no matter how deeply my spies delve."

Oswin frowned, "The Terrascar campaign was nothing compared to the slaughter inflicted upon the Western Isles."

"It'd be quite close," Drake said, "I wager you already know about Draclaw and his dead pirates along with the Purge of Idina?

Uther's expression was grim, "Where you purged half the city hunting for brigands and pirate survivors?"

"The very one," Drake replied, "Unfortunately, at the time of the Battle of Idina, a considerable amount of the city was firmly in support of the pirates. The sea scum came to Caledonia long before Etruria did, and was quite entrenched after decades of mingling. Though quite a few were innocent during the Purge, I daresay that the majority of them were guilty."

"Fitting words for the Cursed One," Oswin muttered, "So what do you mean 'it'd be quite close?'"

"Because the families of the Terrascar members were put to the sword," Uther guessed.

Oswin gaped in disbelief, but Drake nodded his agreement, "Very good, Lord Uther. The Terrascars could well neigh have sparked a revolution in Etruria, and thus forcing the nobility to unleash the army upon them. Fleeing in haste, the Terrascar members, young and old, fled from the coming soldiers, but many left their families behind, thinking the innocents would be safe. However, worried that the inflammatory organization had spread its dissidence to their surviving family, anyone connected to the Terrascars were publicly executed."

Uther stared in disbelief, "Publicly…?"

"Yes," Drake said, "As a warning to all those that may potentially disrupt the king's peace."

"So who was responsible for the slaughter?" Uther asked, "You, or the Hammer himself?"

"By and by, I believe that both were responsible," Drake shrugged, "Either of us would've ordered it, and neither of us would've balked at carrying out such an order."

Uther was struck by the profound calmness Drake said those words. By the gods, what kind of a monster can handle men's lives as carelessly as nail clippings? And such a person has been soldiering and guiding my brother and his friends thus far? One glance at Oswin and Uther could tell the knight was thinking the same thing. And how the bloody hell is that man smiling through all this?

Drake's slight smirk didn't diminish in the slightest at the gaze of Marquis Ostia and his trusted vassal, Almost there, so close, yet so far…

And Uther's next words coined it, "Drake of Etruria, you are too much of a maverick in this delicate game of death. I will not suffer my brother and his friends to reach an untimely end due to your madness. Consider yourself relieved of your duties toward their army, for from this moment onwards, you will no longer be traveling with them."

Mission complete and I'm free to go, Drake thought, "So you have no objections to my immediate departure, do you?"

"Quite the contrary," Uther replied, "The Curse of Caledonia is too much of a threat to be allowed complete freedom in Elibe. So you will be confined here as our guest until Hector and his friends leave."

"Lord Uther?" Oswin asked, "You're letting him go afterwards, aren't you?"

"No, I'm going to have him killed, of course," Uther said calmly, ignoring Oswin's shocked look, "Take him away, Oswin."

After Oswin and Drake exited the room, Uther found himself staring at the seat that Drake had vacated. Why the devil did that man choose the seat of an Etrurian nobleman? I have never heard of the Curse of Caledonia being part of the nobility!


Heath almost fell off Hyperion when an arrow flew not two feet away from his face. Wheeling to the left, Heath directed Hyperion in a barrel roll into the clouds before diving straight down for an awkward landing. Waiting patiently, Heath dismounted and stabbed his lance into the ground as he saw a trio of horsemen approach him.

"You aren't very friendly towards those who venture into your airspace, are you?"

"Not every day we see wyvern riders in Lycia," one of the horsemen quipped.

Heath grinned at that, "Who's in command here? I need to speak with him immediately."

The two horsemen exchanged a glance before looking back towards the nomad behind them, "Sir?"

The nomad eased his horse forward but didn't dismount, "I am Rath, what is your business, rider of the skies?"

"Are you part of the garrison at yonder Ostian fortress?" Heath gestured.

Rath did not reply, but merely nodded.

"Listen," Heath said, "There will be a raid on that fortress tonight led by mercenary bands that once served Laus. Fully four score men, armed and ready for a brawl will come knocking on your gates scarcely past midnight."

"Four score?" One horseman gasped, "Castle Dentrass is understaffed right now, we scarcely have a dozen men on duty, not counting the warriors the foreign lords brought!"

His companion winced before slapping the outspoken man on the back of the head, "Just scream it out for the whole world to hear, why don't you?"

Rath cleared his throat, "Come, we're wasting time here."

Wheeling his light Sacaen steed, Rath was off like an arrow. Heath mounted Hyperion and took off in pursuit while the other two were still collecting their wits. Funny, Heath thought, I find myself betraying every group that I throw my lot with in the name of honor, yet what honor is reflected upon a deserter?

"I don't believe you identified yourself," Rath said, "I am Rath of the Kutolah."

"Heath, one-time knight of Bern," Heath replied.

"Milords, Lady Lyndis," a soldier reported, "Lord Uther wishes to see you at once."

"Already?" Hector asked, "He's early, and that's never a good thing."

"And why is that?" Lyn asked.

"Because whenever Lord Uther is here early, he always has a scathing lecture for Hector," Eliwood laughed.

"Why, you…" Hector growled in mock anger, "Get over here!"

"Mercy! I beg of thee!" The three friends shared a laugh as they entered the throne room to find Lord Uther waiting for them.

"Hector," Lord Uther greeted, "You're still alive? I'm rather surprised due to your lack of correspondence."

"I usually don't keep in touch on the journey, do I?" Hector asked.

"Hm…" Uther thought for a second, "That's true as well. If I had got a letter from you, then I'd be sure you were dead."

Hector grinned, "You haven't changed at all."

Uther matched his brother's smile, "And neither have you. So tell me, what have the three of you been up to, dragging yourselves across Lycia and all the way to Valor?"

"What do you know so far?" Eliwood asked.

"Only what Leila has reported to me," Uther replied.

"Then I'm afraid we have grave matters to report," Eliwood began, but was interrupted by a loud knocking clamor.

Bursting through the double doors came Rath, Heath, and Cecilia. Brushing off the guards' attempts to bar their entrance, the trio advanced to where the lords were holding counsel. Rath was about to make a report when he and Lyn got a good look at one another. He had been on a long-range patrol since two days ago, and, as chance would have it, completely missed the arrival of Eliwood's party.

"Lyn?" Rath said in confusion, "What are you doing here?"

Lyn was flabbergasted herself, "I could say the same to you, Rath."

"Anyways," Cecilia said, maneuvering the conversation back on topic, "We received word half a candle mark ago from Heath that there is a mercenary division headed for our position. Preliminary headcount suggests that they outnumber us two to one. However, that is only if we include the exhausted members of Lord Eliwood's group."

"They can't breach the fortress that easily as long as we close the gates," Uther said with a frown.

"Won't work," Heath interrupted, "I am Heath, and I have fought with those mercenaries before. The mercenary group has a full squadron of wyvern riders. They'll be able to clear the walls while the primary group smashes the main gates."

"To the cut the long story short, we're screwed," Hector growled.

"Cecilia," Lyn said, "If we were forced to give battle, what chance do we stand of winning?"

Cecilia thought for a moment then grimaced, "We have a fifty-fifty chance of winning, but victory would undoubtedly cost us the lives of half our group. After our recent skirmishes in Valor and Badon, the army still hasn't sufficiently rested long enough to fight at full capacity. At best, we will have sluggish soldiers, and at worst, we'd have walking targets that can barely defend themselves. Not counting the sorry condition of our equipment, I daresay that to give battle would be folly."

"Well, time to pull out the trump card then," Eliwood said.

"Trump card?" Uther asked.

"Drake," Eliwood replied, "He's pulled through for us before, and he can do so again."

"True, but where is that guy?" Hector asked, "I haven't seen him since he took off with Oswin."

Uther hesitated for a brief moment before asking, "You seem to trust your tactician very much."

"With our lives," Lyn said, "Father Sky knows how far we'd have struggled without him."

"Yet you have a capable leader in Cecilia as well," Uther pointed out.

Cecilia shook her head, "I have learned much from Drake, milord, and I am ashamed to say that compared to him I am but a novice. I can lead a normal battle with even odds on a level playing field just as well as anyone else, but I'm not a genius who can pull off an impossible victory like Drake. However…"

"What is it?"

"I never said Drake didn't leave a trump card behind for us to use," Cecilia said smugly.

"And you tell us now?" Hector asked incredulously.

"You never asked," Cecilia responded before gesturing towards Heath, "Now pay close attention, Drake wrote that…"

The sun was setting by the time Eubans led his ragtag mercenary force to the gates of Castle Dentrass. Dentrass, though once a formidable obstacle in the eons when strife dominated Lycia, has recently been outclassed by many of the newer castles constructed throughout Elibe. Since it overlooked the friendly boundary between Thria and Ostia, the various ruling Ostian lords had found little reason to buffer the fortifications. As such, an understaffed Castle Dentrass should be an easy conquest for Eubans and his seasoned mercenaries.

"Commander Eubans," a scout reported in, "You're not going to believe this."

"What is it?" Eubans snorted, "There are only a couple dozen idiots inside. They can't handle our wyvern charge."

"Sir, three of our wyverns were shot down by a ballista."

"Say what?" Eubans asked, "So why didn't they destroy the ballista?"

The scout gulped, "Because Castle Dentrass is crewed with far more than just several dozen soldiers, sir."

"What?" Eubans roared, "Heath reported that they barely topped thirty exhausted soldiers yesterday!"

"But… Heath isn't with us any more, is he?"

"Show me the fortress," Eubans growled, "Let me see with my own eyes…"

The pair made their way roughly two hundred yards away from Castle Dentrass. Yet even from that range, the numbers on the castle walls were much more numerous than a scant thirty. Every couple feet, a fully armored man-at-arms stood ready with a bow in hand. Atop the keep, two ballista platforms were erect, surrounded by a ring of troops. Halfway between Eubans and the castle, the carcasses of three wyverns and their respective riders lay stretched out on the plains leading to the castle, speared through by gigantic ballista bolts.

"We'd be massacred if we charged that," Eubans muttered, "With that many archers, they'd rain arrows on us until we have nobody left."

A furious twang was heard and a black bolt screamed through the skies. With a terrible screech, another wyvern crashed into the trees shortly behind Eubans and his companion. Overhead, the remaining wyverns hesitated when they saw pegasi knights scrambling to take to the skies. Aerial combat with ballista bolts searing through the skies was definitely not a very friendly environment. With an oath, the acting commander wheeled around, taking the remains of his squadron back towards camp.

Someone on the battlements must've picked out Eubans and his scout, as the main gates opened with a groan. Nearly half a dozen mounted warriors urged their thunderous steeds out of the overarching gateways and hurtled towards Eubans with weapons bared. Estimating from their speed of approach, they'd be in a javelin's throwing range within minutes.

"That damnable Heath," Eubans said, "He must've warned the guards of our arrival. Go, tell the men to strike camp, we're leaving for Bern."

The scout nodded his confirmation before wheeling his steed and taking off. Eubans looked for a few seconds longer before mounting his horse and prepared to follow when a javelin flew through the air and smote his horse in the chest.

The hell? They couldn't have gotten here that quickly! Spilling out of the saddle in a hurry, Eubans picked up his lance before glancing his stricken beast out of the corner of his eye. Behind him, a ring of five cavaliers quickly moved to encircle him while a familiar face walked out of the forests.

"Heath!"

"The one and only," Heath replied, holding another javelin, "My apologies for your horse, but Cecilia wished for you to be detained."

"Me? Surrender?' Eubans laughed, "I live and breathe the winds of war! I will not be taken alive!"

The elder cavalier frowned, "So be it."

Eubans stood his ground defiantly, holding his lance in his left arm while drawing a sword with his right. Around him, the mounted warriors moved in for the kill.

Cecilia and the lords watched the scene from afar besides the soldiers on the wall. With their torsos covered in armored plates, bows tied to their arms and their lower half obscured by the battlements, no one could tell from afar that these straw figurines were not live men. The only enemies capable of identifying the difference would've been an up close aerial inspection, which was prudently denied to the wyvern riders by Rebecca and Wil on the ballista. Ahead of them, five lances speared Eubans down while Heath watched in glum silence.

"So your ploy worked again," Uther replied.

"It wasn't my ploy in the first place," Cecilia said, gesturing towards the fallen Eubans, "Drake said that this plan could only work once, since a competent enemy would be able to identify our fake soldiers. That is a different story altogether with Eubans dead."

"What are your future plans?"

"Ninian and Nils detected Nergal's presence to the east," Eliwood replied, "So that makes our destination Bern."

"Bern," Uther said with a grimace, "Bern has recently been on the warpath, mobilizing far too many troops along the border. If this Nergal moves Bern to war, all of Elibe may suffer for it."

"Which is why he must be stopped, once and for all," Lyn replied.

"Then go," Uther said, "But first head to Nataba and seek out the living legend."

"Nataba?" Hector asked, "Why the opposite direction?"

"You'll see when you meet him," Uther answered, "Now go, tarry no longer."

When the lords and Cecilia left the battlements, Drake emerged from one of the guard towers with Oswin behind him.

"I still don't trust you," Uther started.

"You'd have made a poor ruler if you did," Drake replied.

Uther growled, "However, I must admit there is no one else I can entrust this task to."

"I confess that I had honestly hoped you'd have found a replacement."

"Oh, how so?"

Drake sighed, "You think I like walking the road of war? No mortal being can live out the rest of days and not regret the deaths he or she caused. Believe it or not, the blood on my hands weigh on me more than you think. There are many times that I wish I could simply end it all with a sword stroke."

"Then do you keep going?" Uther asked.

"To repair the harm I caused in my youth," Drake answered without hesitation, "To bring peace to the yawning jaws of darkness, and to bring judgment upon those who elude the hand of justice."

"Including yourself?"

"Especially myself."

"Milord," Oswin interposed, "Lord Hector and his friends are preparing to leave the castle. They'll be stopping by Ostia on their way to replenish their supplies."

"See to it that several 'donations' be made by the Ostia treasury towards their cause," Uther added.

Oswin grinned, "We'll be in sore need of it. I'll see you later, Drake."

As Oswin stomped out of earshot, Drake glanced briefly at Uther, "How long will you keep your condition from your vassals and brother?"

"Feh, I didn't expect to be able to hide it from your eyes," Uther said, "If I reveal my hardship, Hector may stray from the path he is choosing now. Please keep this between the two of us."

"If you can keep what happened in the dungeons a secret."

"You have a bargain."

There, almost on the doorstep of Nataba! For those of you who are still interested in the full history of Drake, this show isn't over yet! Thank you for reading and please review!