Tarrence's temper was not improved after all day of litigation and he sat lazily in a chair in his quarters that Jareth had provided. It seemed that every problem he left in Torin had followed him to Dorensae. Obviously business did not cease just because a lord or lady left their realm. Problems seemed to have a nasty way of multiplying if not dealt with swiftly.

That was a bitter lesson to learn. Take the slave girls he had wanted for instance. Not only was he without the girls, but a damned fine was imposed on him by that insufferable man, Didymus. It didn't occur to him that he should be lucky to still have his head. Jareth needed all of his lords alive; there were too few nobles left to fill vacant positions. Tarrence was not worried by such a thing.

Jareth. Now that was a problem that Tarrence was willing to resolve. The king had not granted him one audience since the slave girls were released, though he asked repeatedly to be seen. He remembered Didymus warning him, "I would not push too hard on this Lord Tarrence. Maybe his avoidance is a blessing." Ha! So, he had rattled Jareth, or infuriated him, either way it didn't matter much. In the end he had distracted Jareth's attentions elsewhere, which was really the main point. Tarrence glanced at the clock and sighed. Nearly midnight and he had a meeting to attend.

He made his way to the garden grounds, the tall towers of the castle blocking the moon and casting him in shadows. It suited his purpose though. He found himself roaming through the paths. Like the Labyrinth itself the garden had twists and turns. Every inch that was not a path was covered in flora. Little insects buzzed in the night air and the garden's night flowers were in full bloom. It was a beautiful sight and Tarrence hated it. It was a waste of space to him. Tarrence sighed impatiently and wondered where Baz was. He had sent the man to find the exact locations of Lords Stivin and Brynt, for Tarrence was done waiting for the fools. Jareth, however;seemed content to wait for their arrival. It was just another glaring example of how wrong Jareth was in the position of High King. A king shouldn't *wait*. Ever.

Somewhere in the distance Tarrence could make out a conversation. Sneering, he almost turned away and retreated back the way he came. Almost. One of the voices was familiar, and against his better judgement (for Tarrence was not a curious man by nature) he crept closer making sure to keep hidden in the shadows. At first he thought his eyes were deceiving him. There was just no logic to the sight before him, but he blinked and the image remained. On a balcony above him, illuminated by the full moon stood the king Jareth and the slave girl; the special one. Tarrence watched as the two exchanged words that he could not make out, but the meaning was all too clear when Jareth bent towards the girl and kissed her.

"Well, that's certainly interesting."

The words came from the man who just appeared next to Tarrence. He glanced sideways acknowledging Baz. The man's black eyes watched the scene above them for a moment before shaking his head. Tarrence's voice was hard and flat, "It is, at that." He turned and ventured back into the garden, away from the sight, Baz a few feet behind. "Did you find them then?" It was better to think on matters on hand, not speculate about the scene he just witnessed.

Baz nodded, "They met at Torin's Pass and will continue the rest of the journey together."

"They didn't see you, did they?" A small thought was being born. It was just so...impossible?

"Or course not, M'Lord." Baz waited in the shadows for his next instructions. His lord's eyes were focused on the ground, his face turned down in a frown. Then Tarrence began to pace back and forth. Baz raised his eyebrows. His lord was plotting something. Baz knew that expression and resisted the urge to grin. He did enjoy Tarrence's schemes.

Tarrence turned towards the bronze man, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Do we have troops there?"

This time the smile spread wide, "Yes, My Lord," was Baz's instant reply. He liked where this was going.

"Hmm..." Tarrence resumed his pacing. Would he forever be just a lord? Never a king? Should he sit by content with the daily cycle of meetings never to fulfill his true potential? And he had discovered a wonderful secret not long ago. A way to bolster his own magic. Seemingly undetected, for neither the king nor the other nobles had questioned him about it. He glanced down at his gloved hand and flexed it. There was blood on that hand, though no one else could see it. Was it such a terrible cost for power? He didn't believe so. Maybe it was time for Tarrence to act, and to stop being a puppet. "Baz, I don't want them to reach Dorensae. Is this clear?"

"Crystal clear," was Baz's reply.

Tarrence looked at his second. There was something in Baz's tone that had caused him to pause. There was no hesitancy, no questions asked, just an affirmative response. It was a little unsettling to see the delight dancing in Baz's eyes, but Tarrence decided to ignore it. Baz was just the means to the end. "Do not leave survivors, I'm sure they are traveling with a court. And do not go in colors (referring to the practice of waving the region's banner with troop movements)." He saw Baz nod with agreement.
"Bring me a girl before you leave." Tarrence began to walk away and then as an after though added, "I want this done before the moon sets and the sun rises."

"Of course," was Baz's answer. He watched Tarrence slip away into the night and began working on his tasks. The first one was easiest: finding a girl. Baz disappeared from the garden and reappeared in a small village outside the Labyrinth's borders. It never ceased to amaze him that no one questioned his ability to do magic. He was not an Immortal, but everyone assumed him to be and that suited him just fine. He crept through the deserted town square and followed a dirt road to a small cottage he saw up on a hill. The moon's light was more than enough to see by, but had it been covered Baz would have seen perfectly. Without a sound he entered the cottage and made way to a certain room. He knew what he would find there; he could smell it. A young girl of maybe fifteen years slept soundly on her small little cot, an old wool blanket gathered around her shoulders. She was perfect. Innocent and sweet. With a malicious grin Baz grabbed her and transported them away from the cottage. The girl never even woke as Baz lay her gently on Tarrence's bed.

Baz did not wait for his lord's arrival. Instead, he began preparations for the second set of instructions. He transported himself directly to the stables and saw his stead watching him wearily. Baz smiled. The horse was much like himself, always ready for action, loath to be still. "We have another mission," he whispered as he approached the horse.

Within minutes Baz and his black stallion left the stable. With an easy spell their departure went unnoticed by the guard. The horse was unnaturally fast and at his own pace would reach Tarrence's legion by morning. Baz did not have that much time. He augmented the horse's ability and they flew across the landscape arriving at a small post on the North side of Torin Pass; a mountain range that separated Torin from Jareth's Labyrinth. It was within an hour of leaving the castle. Baz dismounted and saluted the night guard.
"Bring me your commander."

The guard returned the salute with a "Yes, sir" and disappeared into the night. A few moments later an older man came forward.
The guard resumed his post as the two men stepped back from the post's lamp lights and into the darkness.

"I have orders for you, Commander." Baz noticed the man's appearance with a little disdain. He did not particularly like this commander,
but he was loyal to Tarrence and that was all that mattered.

The commander straightened, "I am ready to serve the Lord Tarrance. What are the orders?"

So Baz laid out the plans. The commander was slightly shocked by such orders, but valued his life over that of the other lords and remained silent. "No survivors?"

Baz shook his head. "No survivors. I will join with you as well." Baz watched as disbelief spread over the commander's face. He was expecting an argument. That would have been welcomed, then Baz could just kill the fool. But the man held his peace and bowed low. "It shall be done." Baz smiled at the words and watched the commander return to the post with a brisk pace. Afterwards the scene was that of chaos as two dozen men were awakened in the dead of the night and told to suit up and mount their horses. Though Baz may not have liked the commander, he was pleased by the smooth process which the legion prepared itself. Not long after his arrival Baz joined the troops riding swiftly south.

They came upon the resting stop of the lords and their courts as the moon began to settle. Baz's knowledge of their whereabouts led them straight. In a clearing several tents had been erected around a smoldering fire pit. The horses were detached from at least six carriages, and one look out was slumped against a tree trunk. An arrow to the heart had silenced the man before he even had time to sound the alarm. The horses hooves were the loudest sound by far, but Baz wasted a little magic dampening the noise leaving the men free to cut down the sleeping nobles. Half of the court was dead before a sound was issued. Baz smiled as the sound of sword on bone filled the night. A few times he heard screams, but they were silenced quickly. Within minutes the camp was drenched in blood.
The commander walked through the carnage, noting the corpses. A few times he found someone still breathing. With a quick stab of his sword he remedied that. The bodies of Stivin and Brynt had both been found and laid out for Baz to see. Baz grinned, mad with delight. "Leave them here to rot. Return to your post and wait for further instructions." Baz's horse reared as he pulled the reins.
"Cover the horses footprints," was the last thing he said before turning away and continuing south through the mountain pass.

While Baz was washing the ground with blood, Tarrence was delighted with the young girl in his chambers. She was a pretty young thing with sandy blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Those blue eyes were watching him in terror right now as he approached her once again. A few steps was all it took to close the distance. She tried to scream, but Tarrence grabbed her throat, choking off the sound. She tried to fight him off, she kicked at his legs, but Tarrence just smiled at her. It was his smile that made her stop her thrashing. It was if she realized there was nothing she could do. And she was right. Tarrence brought his free hand from behind and plunged a knife straight into her heart. Her eyes widened, dimmed, and then slowly closed as Tarrence felt her body go limp. He dropped her and yanked out the knife. The blood dripped out of the wound and pooled around the body.
Tarrence got on his knees and placed his bare hands in the warm liquid. He tightened his grip on the hilt of the knife and then swiftly cut his wrist open. No blood fell from his cut, instead the blood around him pulsed and changed direction. It flowed straight from the body of the girl and into his own body. As the blood flowed to him he could feel his power growing. It was intoxicating and over too soon. He stood and glanced down below him. There was no mess to clean up; all of her blood was now within him, strengthening him. In the distance a bell broke the night's silence. At that moment, Baz re-entered the room and bowed low to Tarrence, noting the dead girl with only a quick look. Tarrenced smiled. "It is done then?"

Baz heard the bell continue to toll. "Most assuredly, M'Lord."

"Excellent. Now we shall wait and see." Tarrance stepped over the dead body. "I must go. Dispose of this," he waited for Baz to nod and then left the room. Now the real games would begin.

I thought that this chapter turned out pretty good. Please give me a shout out and tell me what you think.