I am really, really sorry you had to wait a week for this update. I underestimated just how much stuff I had to get done on Sunday, and wasn't able to make it to the computer. The extra week did help me sort through what I wanted to do with the next chapter, and this is what I came up with. Enjoy, and review! If you don't enjoy it, review and tell me what about it made the chapter unenjoyable.

Chapter 9: In Which We Find Out What Actually Happened to Erik

"Lydia!" Croesus yelled, pulling his bow off his back and drawing it with one smooth motion. I slapped my wristband and saw my shield spiral out into existence, hefting my spear and spinning to turn towards the source of the scream as it did so.
The sight that met my eyes was a strange one. Lydia stood by the stream that ran through the fort, a knife drawn to ward of an emaciated creature who squatted warily a few feet from her, ankle deep in the water. Croesus sprinted over to his cousin and leveled his arrow so that it pointed right into the thing's face.

"Back away from her." he said, strained with rage, his fingers tightening on the string. I trotted over and stood behind Croesus, my spear at the ready.
The creature made a sort of grunting whimper, and scampered back a few feet. It looked up at me with eyes a piercing blue and all too human. The thing was essentially skin and bones. Its face was gaunt, with pale flaky skin stretched over its cheekbones, and I could easily count every one of its ribs. Its thighs were no bigger around than my upper arms, and its own arms could have been twigs.

"Gods," I cursed quietly to myself. It was just a starved boy. "Croesus, ease up." I thrust my spear into the earth and tapped my shield, sending it back into armband form. Moving slowly, I stepped around Croesus and walked up to the malnourished guy.

"What's your name, friend?" I asked softly and kindly. The boy peered up at me through his eyes, and shuddered, his sides quaking.

"No names..." he murmured, "N-not any more...only pain...and the h-heads. They follow me. Friends...f-family...torn to pieces...m-murdered. Spirits...angry. Only pain, only s-suffering." His body shook as he finished, and he collapsed to the ground, head lolling to the side and spittle dripping from his mouth.

I looked at Croesus. "Is it Erik?" I asked him. Croesus cocked his head to the side and studied the boy before shrugging.
"I can't tell. He's been starved beyond recognition, and tortured too if I'm any judge. I don't know for sure, Sander. It could be Erik, or just a Roman who escaped the notice of the spirits."

At the name Erik, however, the boy's head shot up and his eyes opened wide. "Erik..." he said softly, "I knew him...but no! No names...nothing but anguish...the hands...they light the flesh with fire!...Water, water...but the fire still burns...it's inside you see, can't be quenched." The boy nodded knowingly. "Unquenchable. Fire inside, water can't reach." Just then his eyes clouded with fear.

"Sanguis deorum terram rubrum faciet!" he yelled. "Spirits...angry. Don't like the half-gods you see, they make trouble for the minor spirits and...others. Don't like the gods either, but can't challenge the gods, too powerful, yes? But they're sly, cunning bastards. They plan other ways. Consume the one with a revenge, with hate. Unquenchable. He'll do the work, yes, and they can watch the show. Unquenchable...the burning!" he wailed, "Water, water, but still it burns...no names, no titles...only pain..."

I looked over at Croesus again, who now was studying the boy with interest. "Who's they? What others? What is the one that is consumed with hate?" he demanded, his bow still drawn and the arrow still pointing.

The boy whimpered and wailed and backed up a few steps. "Questions, questions." he muttered, "But not the right ones...ask how, not who, and where not what...fire burns, water cools...but not this fire, no! This fire burns for thousands...the lightning and the sea could not stop its burn, and nor can you. Man is born to hate, and learns to love, but this one has not...no...he hates without thought, poisoned by Vengeance. The Cry will rise again...and there will be no victor this time. No victor...and then no gods...fire...burning the skin...the hands! They spread the flames of pain and suffering!"

Croesus threw down his bow and made as if to seize the boy, but I stepped in his way, and grabbed his wrists. He looked down in shock at me, holding him back.

"Let. Go. Sander." he said. "He knows more, and he needs to tell us."

I stared him down defiantly. "No. He's insane, can't you tell? Don't treat him the way whoever did this does!" I stared my friend down and remained in his way. After a long pause Croesus sighed.

"Whatever, Sander." he said tiredly. "See if he knows where Erik is."

I nodded and turned, kneeling next to the boy and gently patting him on the shoulder. "What happened to your leader, Erik?" I asked quietly.

The kid shook. It struck me that even though it was difficult to guess exactly how old he was, there was little to no chance he was any older than twelve or thirteen.

"On the road east...to the Greeks. Stayed the night...I...I..." he frowned slightly, trying to remember. "No sleep for me, no. Took a walk outside the walls. Came back...no one, only heads...heads and blood...I ran, but couldn't run fast enough. They caught me...caught me by the stream. No quick death for I, no. Toyed with me...hands spread the fire, burned me...full of pain and anguish...kept me alive...fed me enough to live...forced me to live so they could have a...a pet...spreading fire...burning...water, water, but still it burns..." he broke, sobbing, his thin shoulders heaving. "They told me...Erik had been taken...to the Grave of Numa. The others had come and taken him that night...their plans...there will be no victor..."

I shuddered myself at that. "What is the Grave of Numa?" I asked Croesus. His gaze was set but his eyes held the barest trace of dread.

"I'll tell you in a second." he said, "But believe me, it is not good." He squatted down next to me and looked the Roman boy in the eyes. "Who do you mean when you keep saying 'they'"? he asked calmly, and with surprising kindness.

The boy shuddered and opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. I, however, had a pretty good idea. "You know who he means, Croesus." I said darkly, "The Algea."

As I finished there was a screech from behind us, and I turned to see three women gliding towards us, their forms shifting and changing. The first stretched out her hands, and, gliding past Croesus and Lydia in less than a second, fixed her hands on either side of my head.

My vision blacked, and my mind was filled with a blinding pain. My entire body felt like it was on fire, and was being pressed against white-hot iron. I collapsed, as the Roman boy wailed and ran, shrieking as he did so; "Hands spread the fire! Water, water, but still it burns!"

Another slight cliff hanger, but I absolutely promise that Chapter 10 will be posted at some time on Saturday, February 11. If I fail to do so, please write me an angry review or PM and file a lawsuit. Hope you liked this part, and please review!