A/N:Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews, and a big hello to new readers. This chapter was a very long time in coming, and for that I truly apologise. I must be the world's greatest procrastinator, and it really would be a shame if I stopped writing after 46 chapters with only 4 to go, right? So I'm going to finish this story, even if it kills me... or if it maims me, at the very least.

To make up for the delay, this chapter is extra-long. That's something, isn't it? Enjoy!

The Closing of Gates

Captain Javen felt very conspicuous, something that he never enjoyed. The Captain of the Royal Guard was traditionally a figure that stood silent and watchful in the background, only to step forward when called upon by the monarch. And here he was standing in the middle of a muddy road watching Farelle argue with the Bailiff and the Mayor.

A handful of Royal Guards watched the proceedings from their post beside the humble town jail, none of them making any move to call him away, damn them. Prince Andromis was present as well, and what with the livery and swords and cloaks and crowns scattered throughout their company, they couldn't have looked more out of place. A curious crowd had gathered, and Javen kept his left hand firmly on his sword, his eyes constantly moving. The villagers did not look threatening, but you could never tell. The fiasco in Holehallow had taught him that much.

Their reception in the town had been far from warm. People had alternately stared openly at them, or hurried off the street at their approach. When they reached the jailhouse, the Bailiff had made the monumental mistake of addressing Prince Andromis. Farelle coolly informed the Bailiff that as the Crown Princess of the Kingdom, she was the one in charge of the delegation. The poor man had panicked and sent for the Mayor. The Mayor, upon arriving, had scanned the strange group before turning to Andromis for an explanation. Farelle furiously explained for the second time that she was the leader, and nearly drew her weapon in a fit of rage. The frightened Mayor then sent for Lord Willet, who was luckily in town that day enjoying a pint at the inn. Farelle took the opportunity to lecture both Bailiff and Mayor on their callous disrespect, going on to condemn all men in general for their prejudiced attitudes.

Realizing that Farelle was much too involved in her argument to notice him, Javen abandoned his post and strolled over to the Charter-spelled jail window. Cassiel nodded at him through the bars. "How is it in there?" Javen asked.

The dark-haired man shrugged. "Not too bad. At least I have a cot to sleep on, which is a sight better than a patched tent on the forest floor."

Javen noticed that the other man was cradling one of his arms to his chest. "What is wrong with your arm?" He had never been one for subtlety.

"This?" The Abhorsen looked slightly embarrassed. "I was starting to get worried that nobody would come and get me, so I planned an escape." Javen wondered where this was going, and knew that whatever it was, it was likely to be entertaining. "I made a Charterskin, but my fisher hawk form was too big to fit through the bars and I hurt my wing – er, arm – when I flew into the window. I should have learned a different Charterskin, like a moth or a grasshopper."

Javen struggled not to laugh as he pictured the bird-Abhorsen slamming into the window. He considered making some clever remark, but decided to stick with practicality. "A moth Charterskin would not work anyway, with the spells on the windows. And breaking those spells would cause a diplomatic incident at best."

Cassiel looked thoughtful. "Yes, that's why I wouldn't break out. I know how strained relations are between the Kingdom and Ancelstierre. I hope the child gets your sharp mind, Javen. How is Farelle, anyway?"

Captain Javen shuffled his feet. "Well, you might have noticed that she is a bit testier than usual." He looked over at where Farelle was scolding the Bailiff and the Mayor, poor fellows. "It was completely different before she was with child."

It was true. These days, Farelle spent half of her time in a state of maternal bliss and the other half snapping at everyone. She often blamed Javen for her condition, which was grossly unfair, but the Captain had soon learned to bite his tongue during these moments. On a more positive note, the prospect of grandchildren had made King Dantalion act a bit nicer towards him. Or perhaps the King still felt guilty about the loss of his arm.

Life with only one arm had taken the Captain of the Guard some getting used to. He could wield a sword in his left hand now just as well as he had with his right, but it meant that he couldn't cast spells at the same time. Because of this the King forbade him to leave on missions. Javen and Farelle had appealed to the Wallmakers for aid, and Masters Felio and Nehima were crafting him an artificial arm. For the time being Javen neatly pinned up the sleeve of his tunic to hide the stump. The missing limb sometimes tingled or burned, a most peculiar sensation. Of course, Javen had told none of this to Farelle, who had more than enough to worry about.

"Ah, here he is!" the Bailiff practically shouted in relief, and Javen looked up to see a bearded man with broad shoulders approaching the little group. Javen left the jail window and strolled closer, and Prince Andromis also drew near.

"What is going on here?" Lord Willet was gazing around at the scarlet and gold host in surprise. He glanced at the Royal guards before sizing up the three Kingdom citizens standing before him. His gaze immediately fixed upon Prince Andromis, and the Lord politely asked, "Did you send for me, sir?"

"Blood and fire!" Farelle swore, startling everyone. "Do I have to go through the whole thing again?" Javen put a hand on his wife's shoulder. She shrugged it off. "I sent for you, Lord Willet. Me. Crown Princess Farelle of the Kingdom."

The Lord concealed his surprise well. "Can you prove who you are, Lady?"

Farelle stared at him as if he was particularly dim-witted. "Do you really think that I wear a crown, dress in red and gold, and walk around surrounded by Royal Guards just for a lark?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Javen saw Prince Andromis bury his face in his hand. The Captain of the Guard privately agreed: Farelle was handling this terribly. Javen approached Lord Willet in an attempt to rescue the rapidly-deteriorating situation. "Please excuse her." He spoke so quietly that his wife could not hear him. "She is with child, you see." An expression of dawning came over the other man's bearded face.

The Bailiff was scratching his head, "I didn't know there was a Crown Princess. I honestly thought it was a Crown Prince."

"That's – bloody – it!" Farelle went for her long dagger, but Javen managed to stop her from drawing it, which was twice as difficult with only one arm.

The Prince took this outburst as his cue to step in. He showed Willet the golden tower symbol on his sword, quietly explained who he was, and attested to the truth of his sister's claims. This apparently satisfied Lord Willet, as he turned to Farelle with a forced smile to hear her out.

"Lord Willet," said Farelle, calm once more. "You know why we have come here."

"I do," the man acknowledged, bowing courteously. The sanctimonious smile on his face made Javen uneasy. "The good Mayor informed me that they caught a man claiming to be Lord Abhorsen. I sent a message to the Chief Minister, of course. Sir Tralusan is on his way here as we speak."

"Tralusan?" asked Javen, exchanging a worried glance with Andromis. This was the worst thing that could possibly happen. A political mess was exactly what they wanted to avoid. For their part, Princess Farelle and Lord Willet were smiling at each other like two vipers just about to strike.

Farelle took another step closer to the Lord. Javen watched her closely, but she made no move to draw her weapon. "Your devotion to the Chief Minister is commendable," she said sweetly, "but your Bailiff had no right to arrest Lord Cassiel Abhorsen. You jailed him without trial and are thus holding him illegally."

"On the contrary," said Willet, all smiles and courtesy, "the evidence was overwhelmingly against Mr. Abhorsen, and the Mayor has the right to mete out punishment without formal trial. The penalty for practicing necromancy is life in a prison cell spelled by a Master Charter Mage, or death. Be grateful that the Mayor decided to be lenient in this case."

Javen would have crossed his arms if he had two. "Lord Abhorsen does not practice necromancy," he said. "That is a branch of Free Magic, and the Abhorsen is in the service of the Charter."

Lord Willet scratched his beard and smirked in a way that made Javen grind his teeth. "Perhaps, but we are in Ancelstierre, and we must obey Ancelstierran law. The Abhorsen's work is not recognized by the Moot. In any case, he has been pronounced a dangerous individual, and I consider it my duty to keep him confined until the Chief Minister can decide his fate."

Farelle snorted, planting her hands on her hips. "You think you can outmanoeuvre me?" she sneered, all semblance of politeness suddenly gone. "I know the laws just as well as you do, Lord Willet, maybe even better. The fact remains that Cassiel Abhorsen is a Lord, and you cannot incarcerate a member of the nobility. At most they can be kept under house arrest, and his house happens to be in the Kingdom."

For the first time Lord Willet seemed to be lost for words. Javen tried not to look too pleased, although he couldn't say the same about his men. The guards were openly grinning at the victory of their Princess. The crowd of villagers were watching this battle of words with wide eyes.

"Tralusan can argue with me later if he wants," continued Farelle, "but we are taking Lord Abhorsen away with us. Now."

Willet had been bested and he knew it. He motioned with his hand, and the Bailiff went to release the prisoner. Cassiel emerged from the building awkwardly buckling on his sword and bells. Javen noticed that he was limping, and his eyes flicked to the bandage on the other man's leg. The King had not been forthcoming about what the Abhorsen had done before landing in prison, and Javen was quite curious.

They walked down the road in silence, and passed through the busy marketplace on their way to the gate. Javen knew that word of this confrontation would travel fast, and that the Chief Minister would be infuriated once he arrived to find Cassiel gone.

Captain Javen made his way to his wife's side, intending to have a quiet word about their situation. But as he opened his mouth, he was interrupted by a particularly loud cry:

"Fruit for sale! Exotic fruit from the South! Julice gives the best prices!"

Farelle's large blue eyes lit up. She veered off the side of the road to the fruit vendor and her wares as if pulled by an invisible rope. "Do you have anything sour?" she asked eagerly.

Mistress Julice reached behind her stall and pulled out a basket of limes with a flourish. Javen didn't think them very impressive. They were small and shrivelled, and for a moment he thought he saw something with many legs crawling over them.

But a hungry look had come to Farelle's eyes. "Javen, buy the lot," she commanded.

The Captain raised his eyebrow but complied, knowing better than to get between a woman with child and the food she craved. They walked down the street, Javen holding the basket and feeling ridiculous, trying vainly to ignore the snickers of the Prince and the Abhorsen behind him. Thankfully the guards were looking elsewhere out of politeness and consideration for their Captain. Farelle was absent-mindedly peeling the limes and gobbling up the juicy flesh, leaving a trail of green rinds behind her. She looked about the furthest thing from a Crown Princess at the moment.

"Farelle," said Javen quietly, "you must realize how odd you look."

"Hmm?" The Princess spat out a seed.

Javen glanced at either side of the muddy road. "You are getting stared at. And it is not only because you are the King's daughter."

"Oh, who cares what other people think," said Farelle crossly, reaching into the basket for another lime.

"Well," said Javen, striving to keep his voice pleasant, "we represent the Kingdom, and Tralusan will hear every detail of our visit. We could try to conduct ourselves with a greater degree of… pride."

Farelle looked up sharply, and lime juice dripped down her chin. "Pr–" She paused to swallow. "Pride?" she exclaimed, throwing the peel into the dirt. "Pride? Are you saying that I am an embarrassment to you?" His wife was glaring at him as she put her hands on her hips. They had stopped in the middle of the road, and now even the guardsmen couldn't pretend that they weren't watching.

Javen wondered how the situation could have deteriorated so rapidly. "Farelle my love –" The Princess threw up her hands and stormed off. Javen dropped the basket and hurried to catch up, nearly tripping over the spilled limes. "Dearest – that's not what I think at all. You've got it wrong –"

Farelle swung around to face him, and Javen skidded to an abrupt halt. "This is all your fault," she snapped.

The Captain was flabbergasted. "My fault?" he yelped, finally raising his voice. All over the market heads swung in their direction, but he paid them no mind.

"Yes," hissed Farelle so viciously that Javen instinctively reached out with a soothing hand. At least, he reached out with what was left of his upper right arm. It didn't have quite the same effect. "If you had not gotten me with child in the first place," the Princess raged, "I wouldn't be in this condition, embarrassing my husband and Kingdom – isn't that right?"

Knowing better than to answer that question, Javen made an enormous effort to soften his tone of voice. He even attempted a smile. "Farelle – darling –"

"Do not call me darling!" his wife yelled, drawing startled looks from the innocent townsfolk who had been unfortunate enough to go to the market that day. "I will never forgive you for what you said! You can sleep in a different tent tonight!" She turned to Prince Andromis and the Abhorsen who were – unsuccessfully – trying to hide broad grins. The Royal Guards were showing similar signs of mirth. "And don't you dare laugh," she told them all, clenching her hands into fists. "I could have the lot of you thrown into the dungeons." That certainly wiped the smiles off their faces.

It was a subdued group that left the town a few minutes later. The gates slammed behind them, and Javen listened to the sounds of bars being put in place and locks being fastened. It was almost insulting. But then, Farelle's conduct had not improved their already-abysmal reputation.

The guards who had been left outside with the horses had many questions for their fellows, and Javen could hear the words "jail", "argue", and "limes" among their hushed conversations. He pretended not to hear them, and brought his horse into step next to the Prince's. Farelle and Cassiel were leading the group, and the guards dispersed themselves, alert and watchful as ever.

"Are you avoiding my sister?"

Javen narrowed his eyes, but he knew that even the darkest glare wouldn't wipe the smirk off the Prince's face. "So are you," he pointed out. "What happened to the legendary courage of the Scarlet Company?"

The Prince shrugged. "We soldiers are brave, not suicidal," he pointed out. "Besides, I thought it was the duty of the guards to see to the needs of the Royal Family."

"Yes, well, Farelle needs to be left alone at the moment."

"She does at that." The Prince's grey eyes suddenly flicked up to the sky, and Javen followed his gaze, spotting a small dark shape circling overhead. Suddenly Andromis let out a piercing whistle, grinning apologetically at the guards who had looked around in panic. A red-tailed hawk plummeted towards them. She pulled up to alight on the Prince's arm, and the young man transferred her to his shoulder. "Farelle botched the diplomatic negotiations, didn't she?" he asked casually as he stroked the bird's feathery breast.

Captain Javen sighed. "I'm afraid so. She ruined relations between the Kingdom and Ancelstierre in a single power move, all in a little northern village."

"I don't know why father sent Farelle to handle this. She hasn't exactly been herself lately, and it seemed a bit excessive sending both of you."

"The King foresaw that there might problems getting the Abhorsen out of prison."

Andromis shook his blonde head. "But surely father knew that sending the Crown Princess would cause even more of a fuss."

"Of course. I believe that the King was using this situation to his advantage."

The Prince glanced over at Javen with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean, Captain? None of us want any more problems with Tralusan."

"No we don't, and we had to make that clear. Ancelstierre needs to know that the Kingdom will take care of its citizens, and that the best thing Tralusan can do is leave us alone."

The Prince's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, I see. Well, Farelle certainly made things very clear to Lord Willet. Clearer than father must have intended, anyhow."

Javen couldn't hold back a grin. "Especially in her present state."

"No doubt. Poor Cassiel had no idea what we were about to do, did he?"

"Not the slightest."

Andromis frowned in sudden thought. "If he'd known that we were risking his freedom just to make a point –"

"We did not risk his freedom," Javen interrupted firmly. "I am certain that he would have been released, no matter Farelle's reception."

The Prince shrugged, and his hawk flapped her wings irritably. "If you say so, Javen. I only came along to watch."

The Captain glanced around to make sure that nobody was listening. "I've been meaning to ask you, Andromis – why did you volunteer to come with us? You've never shown interest in Ancelstierre."

A closed expression stole over the Prince's face. "Let's just say that I needed a break from a few things back home," he mumbled.

"But you're currently on leave."

"And what better way to spend that extra time than with my family?"

"How about with your mysterious lady?" Javen countered, and the look on the Prince's face told him everything. "Is she the one you are running away from? A great big Second Lieutenant like you?"

"How did you –"

"Farelle keeps asking when we'll meet her, and you keep changing the subject. I wondered for quite some if there was trouble between you two."

Andromis sighed, staring at his hands that were holding the reins. He looked about as miserable as Javen had ever seen him. "You have no idea."

The Captain winced sympathetically. "That bad?"

"Worse. You can't possibly know how bad it is."

Javen was surprised by the bitterness in the younger man's voice. "I might know a bit. I have experience. You are only twenty-four, and I was betrothed when I was twenty-five."

The Prince snorted. "But you weren't betrothed to this monster," he muttered under his breath.

Captain Javen blinked in surprise. "That is what you call your beloved?"

"Yes!" Andromis burst out. "Because that is exactly what she is! A monster, an ogress, a fiendish woman who thinks she is right about everything and that the rest of the world ought to kiss her overly-large feet." Tired of being jostled about by her master, Ruby spread her wings and took off, clipping the Prince's ear with her wing. Andromis scowled at his hawk, and Javen decided to get the conversation back on track.

"So she is a little bossy," he allowed.

"Bossy?" scoffed Andromis. "She is downright tyrannical! She never listens to what I say, and it is not just because of her noble blood. She is my height and age, and that makes her think that she has the right to control me. Where are all the younger, shorter women who will look up to me and accept my superior knowledge and experience?" He sighed, and Javen looked on in shocked silence. "I wish I could at least look down on her when we argue. That would make things so much easier. Perhaps I should get a box to stand on…"

"Or perhaps you could give in a little and let her think that she is in charge," suggested Javen. "I find that works quite well."

The Prince looked sheepish. "I find her rather – intimidating. If I give her an inch she'll devour me like a side of beef."

"You have my sympathies."

"And her attitude's not the half of it," said Andromis heatedly. Javen was getting the distinct impression that the Prince was venting feelings that had been struggling to get out for some time. "We fight all the time – and I mean all the time. We argue and yell, and Zavebe throws things when she's angry. She has to buy new ornaments and dishes to replace what she breaks. She is absolutely the furthest thing from a lady alive in this Kingdom – including that Stilken rumoured to be inhabiting the Sindlewood."

"I admit that your words confound me," said Javen. He decided to ask what he had been wondering since the Prince's tirade began. "If you fight with her so much, why do you persist in courting her?"

"I do not know!" Andromis burst out, and a few guards turned to look at him curiously. Javen glared at them and they obediently returned to scanning the surrounding trees. "I have tried to leave her, you know," the Prince was babbling. "I would go off after a very bad fight determined to forget her and move on. But for reasons beyond my understanding, I always return to her manor home in the North to see her whenever I am on leave. Then to complicate things even further, there is that smarmy Lord Deachan always hanging around trying to move in on her whenever I am away. I hate the whole situation! It is driving me mad! What is wrong with me?"

Javen chuckled, and the Prince glared at him so darkly that he stopped laughing at once. "Nothing is wrong with you, Andromis," he said gently. "It is called being in love."

"Ha! Well, love should not be like this, like fighting a battle against a vicious enemy without gaining any ground, and getting only a hundred bloody wounds to show for it." The Prince slumped on his saddle, scowling at his horse's mane.

"Nobody ever said that love would be easy," the Captain pointed out.

Andromis shook his head. "Do not preach that nonsense to me, Javen. Yes, you and my sister have troubles, but they are nothing like this. This cannot be normal."

Captain Javen leaned over, intent on bestowing a bit of wisdom on his young brother-in-law. "Your relationship would not be normal if it were painless. Look at your parents. We never see them fight, but even they must have problems. All couples do."

"They only never fight because my mother is very accommodating, and my father knows when he is beaten."

"You see then?"

The Prince chewed on his bottom lip in thought. "There must be someone… I know!" He snapped his fingers. "Cassiel! The Abhorsen must have the most perfect marriage in the Kingdom."

Javen glanced up at where the object of their conversation was riding at the head of the group. "It does surprise me that a man can be away from home so long and maintain a loving wife and two children," he admitted.

"I suppose Cassiel is naturally good with women." Andromis sighed with envy. "Just look at how well he can handle Farelle. She would have bitten off our heads by now. But maybe that is just because Farelle had a crush on him when she was a teenager."

This was news to Javen.

He stared at the front of the group where his wife was riding next to Cassiel Abhorsen, and what he saw shocked him: Farelle had put her hand on the other man's thigh! He paused for a moment in astonishment, then heeled his horse sharply. As he drew up behind them, Farelle was saying, "…nearly there now." She glanced back and saw him, and to his utter surprise she smiled, keeping her hand on the Abhorsen's thigh. "I was just telling Cassiel that we are nearly at the Wall," she said. "His leg is paining him dreadfully."

Javen glanced down at the Abhorsen's wound, and saw the glitter of healing Charter marks trickling out of his wife's fingers. All at once he felt completely foolish. He was saved having to say anything by the return of Lieutenant Staunis, who had been scouting ahead.

"Captain!" said the guard, looking distraught. "I saw the gate. It has been broken through."

Javen sprang into action. "Lieutenant Oscaer, take command," he called before urging his horse to a gallop. He and Staunis made it to the Wall in minutes, but the sight that awaited them caused Javen to freeze. Then he remembered himself and hurried to dismount one-handedly, nearly falling on his head in the process.

The two guards drew their swords as they cautiously approached the Wall, which was complete at this section. On the Ancelstierran side was the crude wall of earth and stones that had served as a barrier before the Wallmakers' time. Beside this stood a small hut, where men had been posted to keep an eye on the traffic across the Wall.

The men were all dead. Their bodies were burnt nearly beyond recognition, and were crawling with insects. Javen hastily averted his eyes and walked up to the Wall. The gate put in by the Wallmakers was hanging off its hinges, and Javen pushed it gently to the side. He stepped through and looked about. "Lieutenant!" he called.

Staunis got up from where he'd been examining the dead men, and jogged over. "Yes Captain?"

Javen gestured wordlessly. The Lieutenant's eyes went so wide that the whites could be seen all around. "Oh Charter…" Staunis hurried over to the four Royal Guards who lay on the forest floor. Javen did not need a closer look to see that they had been burned as well. He felt his eyes start to sting and rubbed at them angrily. He had known these men.

Trying to avoid looking at the dead Guards, Captain Javen set about examining the surroundings for clues as to who had done this. Farelle and the others had just arrived when he found a message on the trunk of a tree.

"Over here," he called. Farelle, Prince Andromis, the Abhorsen, and Staunis gathered around close. He nodded, and each of them touched their own forehead Charter Mark in turn, and then the tree. Three golden marks flared briefly on the bark and faded away again.

Javen heard faint screams in the background, and a familiar voice spoke suddenly in his ear. It was Lieutenant Warrel who had been placed in command of the post. "Take this message to the Family! Something broke through the gate, all shadow and fire. It burned the –"

That was it. Captain Javen took a deep, steadying breath. Staunis was pale, and Farelle and Andromis looked stunned, but the Abhorsen looked the worst of them all. The man's skin was paper-white and his lips trembled. Javen thought he looked like he was about to fall over.

"I know who did this," said Cassiel. His voice was hoarse with fatigue or dread. "I came through this gate only days ago, and went into Death not two leagues from here. I completed my mission, but someone managed to return to Life. He escaped me."

"Who?" demanded Javen. He wanted to know who was responsible for this massacre.

The Abhorsen gulped. "Raum."

"Raum?" Farelle repeated. From the expression on her face, Javen knew that she was remembering the battle between the Charter bloodlines and the Freemen, which had culminated in an attack on the Palace itself. That had been before he came to Belisaere. "Surely you can't mean the necromancer Raum? Gamori's second-in-command?"

"The very same." The Abhorsen gazed sadly at the spot on the tree where the Charter marks had faded. "His spirit is now loose in the Kingdom. But more than this, he can still perform advanced Free Magic. He calls himself a Greater Dead."

Javen's mind was spinning. It was too much to take in at once. He looked at Farelle, and the same fear he felt was reflected in her eyes.

"What is he going to do?" asked Prince Andromis.

The dark-haired man considered for a moment. "I think he will go into hiding until he regains his strength," he said finally. "He was weakened after our fight, and I believe I could have defeated him had I been completely hale."

Javen glanced at his wife and saw that familiar light of determination creep back into her face. "Very well," she said firmly. "We shall notify the King. But before we leave, we close the gate. The Wall is nearly complete, Charter be thanked. We are finished with Ancelstierre."

The Royal Guards watched silently as Farelle, Andromis, and the Abhorsen pushed the gate back into its proper position. They cast a series of Charter spells, and the metal twisted together. Marks of closure and protection shimmered over the iron and flowed into the stones. The gate was shut and sealed, and the company rode north without a backwards glance.

A/N: I'm about to pull another time-jump on you. This is the last one, I promise. The next chapter will take place after two years. We only have three more chapters to go! I'm starting to get excited… and sad, too. And bewildered – how in the world did this story pass 125,000 words?

Reviews, as always, are greatly welcomed.