Rubble and Zuma rode out on their horses, galloping at full speed toward the southern border. Sweetie watched as they went, smiling to herself. Rubble was loyal, no doubt, and with him at her side, they would be unstoppable. The bigger decisions of the kingdom would be left to her, of course, given that Rubble was still very naive, but he was a natural leader. All she had to do was bring it out of him.

This was his first test.

The Earl of Barkingburg came up behind her, chuckling. 'Have a crush on the young pup, m'lady?' Sweetie blushed under her fur, but kept a straight face as she turned to her advisor. A tall, tan skinned human from the Isles, the Earl had come to Sweetie's assistance when his first charge, the Princess of Barkingburg, had sacked him over a disagreement. He was old, as was obvious by his receding hairline and white beard and mustache, but he was clever still, perhaps even more than Sweetie was, and his mind was sharp as the best made sword.

Sweetie took up a mocking posh accent and pose. 'Who I have a love interest in, Earl, is none of your concern. May I remind you that you are but a simple advisor?' Both Sweetie and the Earl tried to hold in their laughs, but failed miserably, bursting out laughing. The Earl was the first to re-compose himself after about a minute. 'But really, m'lady,' he said in between chuckles, 'Have you an eye for the young bulldog?'

Sweetie smiled, still chuckling from time to time as she spoke. 'I suppose you could say that, yes. I find him…' Sweetie struggled for the word.

'Innocent, perhaps?' The Earl pitched in. Sweetie nodded. 'Yes, that's part of it, definitely. He's still just a sweet child, but in a much older body.' Sweetie chuckled again. 'Sounds wrong, doesn't it?' The Earl shrugged. 'There has been worse done to younger pups, m'lady. Frankly, I find I agree with you. He has a lot to do to prove himself, but as it stands right now,' the Earl laughed, 'I feel that young Rubble is as competent as any warrior in the entire Fenririan army.'

Sweetie nodded and sighed. She stared wistfully out the window, thinking. She turned back to the Earl, who had been smiling under his mustache at his charge. Sweetie sighed again. 'Earl, I want you to make me a promise.'

'Anything, m'lady.'

'From this point on, I want nothing hidden between us. You're my advisor, and that means that the bond we share can completely change this kingdom, for better or worse.' She turned back toward the window. 'No matter what, never lie to me. I have a knack for rooting lies out of their holes, and I'd hate to have to kill you for lying to me.'

The Earl simply laughed. 'Sweetie, please. I have no intention of ever betraying you. No need for the threats. My job is just as important, if not more so if you were an incompetant leader, as your's. Sure, I could lie to you and try to convince you to do something that would benefit me, but eventually someone will come and stop me. Why risk that? I find it much simpler to advise, and nothing but that one job I am tasked with. I get nothing out of deceiving you.'

Sweetie smiled again. 'Good. That is good, Earl. At least we have that.' The terrier turned back toward her advisor. 'On a business note, however, have we found anything on the assassins that killed the king? Did the troops that were there remember anything?'

The Earl looked uncomfortable for a moment, grimacing. 'M'lady, if we hadn't just had the discussion we did, and were you any other ruler, this would be one of those rare times I would lie, if only for this short amount of time.'

Sweetie looked annoyed. 'Spit it out, then.'

The Earl sighed. 'One of the troops remember that the king had been fighting a wolf, as we know.' Sweetie nodded but didn't say anything. 'He also remembers, and swear's up and down that he's heard the stories, but he said that the wolf in question was an ice sorcerer.'

Sweetie scoffed. 'Yes, but you both know what happened those years ago.'

'Ten years ago, at this point. You were only eighteen, correct?'

'And I played a vital part. I got inside, I got close to them, I undid them. So explain to me, Earl, how this one survived.'

'We still have no idea, my queen. But that's not even the best part, so to say.' The Earl seemed uneasy about what he was going to say next. 'This same soldier said that when the king and his opponent were dueling, toward the end the king faltered for a second. Saying a name before he was speared.'

'What was the name?' Sweetie's voice was utterly calm, and for the Earl, this was both a good and concerning sign. He sighed. 'Now, the next part he can't remember as well, given his injuries. He says that everything was hazy at this point. So what he might've heard could be wrong.'

'Oh, good gods, Earl, spit it out.'

The Earl sighed again. 'The name he heard, though hazily, was "Ethan."'

Sweetie growled. How the hell was he, of all people, alive?

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Rubble and Zuma stopped for a moment to check their path and let their horses rest. Zuma pulled the map out of a leather bag on the side of his horse, spreading it out. Rubble looked over it with his friend.

Zuma pointed at a point on the map. "Hewe's us.' Their position was only a few miles from the southern border of Fenrir and the northern border of the Kingdom of Socius, where it was believed that the assassins had fled. Zuma pointed across the border on the map to a crossroads on the map. 'There's a town hewe. They'd have to have gone through, so that's whewe wewe going.' Zuma looked up at Rubble. 'Unless you think differently?'

Rubble knew what Zuma was doing. His friend knew that the bulldog was slow to look at things his own way and make his own judgments on a situation. Rubble looked over the map, and thought about some of the details that the armorer and the apothecary had gotten from the surviving soldiers. An ice sorcerer of some sort, who had been able to take a small army with nothing more than a thought in his mind. He killed the king, but had been injured in the process.

Nothing else was really known. Rubble nodded in agreement. 'No, that town's probably our best bet. I don't want to go running off on a wild goose chase. At least, not as much of one as this already is. Though what are our other options if we don't find him there?' Zuma shrugged and rolled up the map. 'Don't know, don't weally cawe. If we do though, I know that Sweetie will pay us a hefty amount.' He saddled his horse. 'Plus, I think she likes you. Gods know what she has in stowe thewe.'

Rubble blushed under his fur, but kept his face straight. 'Better get moving then, right?' Zuma laughed. 'Thewe's the spiwit, Wubble.'