Book 3 - DAUGHTER OF LIGHT

synopsis
The borders of Avalon, a prophetess travels between present and past,
between light and darkness, between the mortal world and the magic between
danger of treacherous battles and glory of an indescribable passion!
England, 1067
Cassandra Tregaron inherited from her father, the wizard Merlin, the gift of
transport themselves freely through time and space. Stephen de Valois,
son of William the Conqueror, is a fearless warrior, determined to
defeat the evil Malagraine combatant. United in a mission that
leads to the ruins of an enchanted kingdom shattered, Stephen and Cassandra be
confronted with the powerful dark forces that threaten the world
mortal, and the challenge of a love that transcends infinity ...
Quinn Taylor



chapter I
London, 1067


Tell me, daughter. The thought came to Vivian, as easily as if the parent
was at his side, in the great hall of the Tower of London, and talked
with her. Tell me what they are talking about.
There was a strange urgency in his voice, as if the thoughts
Connect to Vivian, as if he sensed something else, not to say.
Although he could read her thoughts that special way that
care, the father closed his for her.
Vivian stood in the shadows of the great hall of the newly built tower
London, the fortress where William of Normandy, now king of England,
established the court. Looked for her husband.
Vivian was now a counselor of the king, like his father, Merlin, had once
advisor of another king. However, the baby who had just given birth
time required his attention even King William. Tonight, however, she turns attracted
to the court for reasons not understood, but felt, throughout their
nerve endings, as a premonition to hover in the presence
heavy in the air and appearing in disturbing visions in a tapestry fabric.



A lot has changed, Dad, since the year in which William took the throne
English - Vivian murmured, knowing that his thoughts would bind to
him, even though his father was not there to hear it. - At the same time,
little has changed. Saxon barons are concealed and barely worth
confidence. There are constant rumors of plots against the king. The barons and
Knights Guilherme show restless and want to return to Normandy.
Rorke would like us to leave this place, but I can not. am
needed here. Feel it.

Indeed, much had changed. The coats of arms and emblems of the Saxon nobility
that once adorned the walls had been replaced by hangings
the elaborate plot and banners of bright colors of the House of Normandy
Anjou, Pontiers, and half a dozen other European noble families,
whose riders were now owners of land in England, as
payment for services rendered to William.

What news?, The father asked, anxious, and Vivian knew the reason for the
question because it also turns on the bright skeins of silk woven in
tapestry.
- There is no news. Men that the king sent west were
losers. Feared the worst.

A heated argument had broken out among the knights of William. many
were in favor of sending more men to the western border, while a
equal number were against it and openly spoke of the desire to return to
Normandy, since most had families there, which they did not see
was more than two years. It was dangerous to talk with the Saxon barons
listen carefully and set up their own schemes, where William
leave England.

Burning torches attached to the walls, the acrid smell of animal fat to
merge with the pungent wood smoke, cold sweat and hot meat
many bodies crowded the hall, stirred in discussions.

William the Conqueror, self-proclaimed King of England, sat at
table on the raised platform well above those discussed so
strongly in the lounge.
He was a stout man, shoulder width further highlighted by
layers of rich satin and velvet of his tunic. In his eyes gleamed a
ambition that earned him the English throne. Beside her, the Queen Mathilde,
recovered now after the birth of her third child, sat in
thoughtful silence.

Across the king was his friend and loyal knight Rorke Fitzwarren. To
see the strong and handsome profile of the husband, Vivian felt a surge of pride and
desire. There were moments of intimacy since the birth of the child. E
still had problems so hard in the lands of the West.
For long hours, every night, he was with William the issues
State. There were rumors that if William resolved to resume
Normandy, appoint Rorke Chancellor FitzWar-ren in its absence with absolute authority.

Vivian never intervened with his powers, in regard to the position
William Rorke before, but not let it be drawn into the intrigues
policies. Watching him, she realized he looked peaceful, sitting to the right of
William, his fingers loosely holding a mug of drink. however
felt that her husband was aware and alert to every thing
was told, every change of expression and movement between those who
met in court.

She also raised the danger that was suddenly very close. Vivian,
then approached silently until post behind the chair
Rorke. She laid her hand on his shoulder, while a gesture of
warning and instinct to protect him, just moments before the
doors of the great hall was opened violently.

Rorke immediately jumped from his chair, pushing back as Vivian
he put his hand to the sword. The hall, other weapons were drawn, while
several warriors entered without waiting to be announced.
Their armor battles were covered in mud. They were a group
torn, battered and bloodied, faces smeared with dirt.
Staked on the steps of the dais of the king.

One of the warriors stepped forward. The others moved away to let him pass.
His mail was pushed back shoulders. There were links
thin metal twisted and broken, and several bloodstained and where he smashed out
wounded. His black hair was emplas or loss on the head, his features barely
discernible beneath the mask of sweat, dirt and blood. Only his eyes
were recognizable, eye candy, once full of kindness and friendship,
when Vivian needed a friend, but now showed
dark due to the tragic loss of a much loved brother.

Gavin Mars stood in silence in front of his king and his men
surrounded. Had ridden for days and under the most appalling conditions
to get to London. The bloodstains and the state of the armature
spoke for itself the horrible conflict in Western lands.
Across the room, Vivian saw the cascade of golden hair of her sister,
as a radiant beacon. But even if he had not seen his
thoughts would have connected that old way that both
shared with his father.
Something awful happened, thoughts Brianna murmured, filled
of distress. As you saw in the tapestry.
Yes, Vivian answered mentally. I also felt. - All your attention
concentrated in Gavin Mars, who stepped forward and
approached the king.
I brought a gift of the lands of the West, my lord - he said, his voice tight with
weakness and pain for many injuries, but it could not disguise the
Vivian felt that subliminal anger inside him, like a drawn bow in
breaking point. - Posted by Welsh rebels.
From inside his cloak, took a basket. Holding it in front of him, stepped forward.
Knelt and presented it to the king.
More than danger, Vivian felt an indescribable horror at the sight that
invaded with such clarity as if the lid of the basket had been taken
and the content revealed.
- Rorke ... - she whispered, her voice cautious in part, in afflicted part, the
look stuck to the basket.
He turned, and his eyes narrowed.
- What is it? Any danger to the king?
Vivian's fingers closed firmly on her husband's arm, as
if seeking forces.
- It is dangerous for us all. - His bright blue eyes met
goals. And at that moment, before the lid of the basket and were drawn
Content revealed to all, she murmured, believes: - Do not need your
sword, my husband.
Rorke then turned and looked at the basket. William rose and fell
the steps of the dais to the floor of the hall. Stared firmly his
knight and then reached out and took the lid off the basket. took the
gift sent to her.
It was round and was wrapped in a dirty and stained tissue. had the
size of a bee hive. By unrolling the wrapping content
fell and rolled on the floor.
Around the room, Saxons and Normans gasped with horror and revulsion at the
stare at the severed head of John Curthose, rider confidence and outfall
William, sent to negotiate peace with Prince John
Ladies present cried out in terror. Poladouras, the monk who created
Vivian since baby, muttered a hurried prayer, while all the
around reacted in shock, disgust and outrage taken.
The Queen let out a strangled moan, muffled by the revolt
enraged Stephen de Valois, the bastard son of William.
John Stephen Curthose created almost old enough to reach this
to mount a horse and ride alongside his father.
Rorke Fitzwarren taught him everything he knew about the cavalry. John will
taught about the world beyond the battlefield. A world of culture
much older than her; language, history and philosophy.
Rorke become the young warrior. John had molded the mind of the young
Warrior and filled knowledge. Now, dear friend and mentor
had been brutally murdered.
- By God! - Stephen exploded, the shock to turn into suffering,
then anger, as advancing through the other riders
Guilherme. - These rebels will pay for what they did!
Gavin turned to Mars.
- How many men were lost?
- Ten of my own - Gavin replied, looking for Stephen King.
- All men of Sir John are dead. Were hung in
tree for carrion birds to devour their bones. This - Pointed
for this horrendous sent to the king - was delivered



in our camp in the morning where we found massacred.
Stephen was the same height as the parent, but with that agility animal of
youth in each muscle. The eyes were the same color of amber, the
hair of a more vibrant brown than William. there were very
more than simple traits from parent to child, the same strong chin and
a pointed arch eyebrows. But the similarity ended there. The mouth was
beautiful and sensual as the mother, the creature whose only sin was to be the plebs
and not owning land or securities as a dowry. Although William loved her with
passion of his fifteen years had been forbidden to marry her by his own father,
Robert of Normandy, which also made him a bastard, but that the
appointed his legitimate heir.


Vivian knew that William saw it as he had been in
Stephen. Father and son were bound by the circumstances of birth.
Stephen was the eldest and beloved as any of the other children of
Guilherme. More than any of them, Stephen de Valois was the son of
passion and desire, in whom the king saw the pain of the past and envisioned the
hope for the future.
- This can not stand! - Stephen shouted, expressing what each
Knight and Warrior in the hall thought. - You must send an army
to the lands of the West.
- We will discuss the matter at another time.
- Another time? - Stephen replied, shocked. - In another hour, the next
heads will roll may be within these very walls. You
need to act now.

- Do not deal with that right now! - William retorted in a tone of
lower voice. It was an unmistakable warning against the folly of his son
to speak so openly in the presence of the whole court, which included the barons
Saxon, who wanted nothing more than to see William expelled from
England once and for all. It would not matter if the Welsh rebels
the west were the cause.


Stephen, however, would not suppress. For months there had been rumors
problems in the border region of England, a distance not so
Remote. The lands of the West were only a few days' trip
London.

First the king sent John Curthose, and then Gavin Mars. And there had
the carnage. Proof that his father needed most? The frustration and
Stephen rage impelled to speak so maybe less conservative than
should. Frustration that he alone among the knights of the father, was
consistently underestimated in matters of military strategy, although
had won his spurs Knight five years earlier, with much
younger than any of the other knights of William, including
Rorke Fitzwarren. Anger that every word, every gesture, every decision
was taken was a reminder of his spurious birth. It was
considered as worthy as the other knights and nobles to the king
trusted his kingdom. And that anger made him precipitate.
- I demand that you send me to the lands of the West! - Stephen told
King, head up, eyes narrowed, his father a silent challenge. their
fists were clenched
hard, hard muscle each of anger, as if ready for a fight.
- You made me commander of his army. It is my duty to protect the king
and avenge the death of its rider.
- It is my commander under my authority - William replied by
between the teeth, so that only the son heard. - Not able to
demand anything. And would do better to remember that what we have is due to my
generosity. - Said it hoping to discourage such Stephen
precipitation, but the phrase has caused the opposite effect.
- What I Own - Stephen stated loud and clear for all to hear
- Is mine by right of blood spilled in countless fields
battle, fighting beside him, my lord. Not least the blood other
who serve, but with which you now sit on the throne of
England.
A sudden silence the room.
- By God! You forgot! - William reacted angrily and punched the
table before him, making mugs metal tinirem. - The Knights Who
serve do thanks to my purse.

- I have not forgotten anything! - Stephen replied. - It's you who forgot!
Amid the other riders, a warrior ran. Tarek al Sharif, the
mercenary who fought alongside William the and who had married the sister of
Vivian, Brianna, put his hand on the young knight arm in a gesture of
warning.




Stephen freed himself with a sudden jerk, ignoring the warning and approaching with
air raunchy father. Furious, pulled gals and tunic with the emblem
Valois, that William the conqueror when he won his spurs
and the sword of knighthood.
Threw them on the floor at the foot of the throne. Then he turned and left the room, his hand
grasped the hilt of the sword, and with a glance at the
William Knights, if they dared to intercept him.
In his blind rage, came down the hall and ran into a young, almost
throwing her to the ground. Cursing, he reached out to hold her. Beneath the
her sleeve, felt the sudden tension of the muscles and tendons
delicate, and then the surprising strength when she tried to
disentangle.
For a moment, the anger directed at the father was forgotten. Stephen frowned
forehead while looking at the girl. He was not dressed like the other women of
cut. She wore brocades and satins rich. The sleeve of the dress in her hand
was bright blue and soft like velvet, the rest hidden by the cloak
gray, undulating around your body es-I lead. The cloak seemed almost
diaphanous, shining a light hidden, and shining stones on the ground,
which dragged at the feet of the young.
The hood had slipped for the shoulders, revealing the black hair
midnight, running down the back in waves, fine features under the skin
an ivory satin and the most extraordinary eyes that Stephen had ever seen.
Were the color of violet, like rare gems. And frightened.
- Who are you? - He asked. - What are you doing here?
- Let go of me! - She murmured, distraught, trying to free himself. - Please! -
pleaded. - Need to drop me!

Suddenly, a brilliant flash lit the gloomy corridor, as if the
torches were blown walls. The light intensity appeared
painfully penetrate the brain Knight and burn her eyes.
Then expanded, surrounding the young.
Stephen tried to pull her back away from that circle of light, certain
she would be burned by flaming heat. Instead, if it was felt
pushed forward, pushed towards the light.
There was nothing to hold, unless the delicate wrist in his hand
had closed. Then, the light encircled both. Trembled and throbbed as if
became brighter and hotter. Burned her skin and seemed
boot air from the lungs.
Even that still clung to the young Stephen could no longer see her.
Under bright light, it was just a golden silhouette. Then the
light seemed to implode, swallowing itself.

Stephen felt he was falling, appearing to have been hit by a punch that
threw to the ground. But the floor was gone. Have been counted him
released by some type of opening and urged by a light passage
blinding.
Followed tumbling, the churn, slipping and sliding through
a vortex of images and sounds. everything came
for him an immense speed, a blur of vivid color and intense
sensations. Myriad sounds resounded as if millions of voices shout
at the same time.



It was as if he were a piece of wood caught in a current
powerful, being sucked into a chaos of light, unable to free himself, unable
to stop what was happening, clinging to that delicate little hand
as a lifeline.
Then, the same sudden way we started, the vortex of light, color and
sound disappeared. Stephen was thrown on a hard surface and
rough, sharp edges of the stones cut her hands and her
scratching his face.
It hurt to breathe, and he felt cold. His muscles seemed torn. had the
feeling of having broken bones, as if he had been brutally beaten.
Heard death described by knights and warriors who find us
battlefields. If not for the intense throbbing pain in your body
every heart beat, judge dead.
Where were you? The fortress of the king was attacked?
The chaotic images gradually ceased to spiral around. Finally,
Stephen could pull air into the lungs. He tried to move his arms and
legs, and repented immediately, as the pain throbbed in each
muscle and joint. Was as weak as a newborn.
When the world seemed to settle once again flexed Stephen
fingers and found that no more holding the girl by the wrist. then
slowly managed to open his eyes.






He was painstaking focus the view and sharpen the ears. Again felt the stones
cold in the body, no longer hard and rough, but soft and polished.
Be the salon in London? Seemed extremely changed. no
Torch burned walls. I did not hear the noise of the horsemen and
Warriors of the court of William. Everything was dark and quiet.
As she turned slowly, felt something light as a feather brushing her cheek. E
soon after, felt new. He looked up and saw snowflakes falling
through a hole in the ceiling. White and silent, snow penetrated by that
opening and covered the walls collapsed as a shining robe,
hiding the ruin and decay. That was not the tower of the king in
London.
What had happened? Where were you? What place was that?
Gradually, the strength returned to his body, enough so that he could
lift.
In slow steps, Stephen toured the ruins. It was an old place, cold and
silent and shadows extending beyond the pale beam that
seeped through the ceiling burst. However, even under that parka
light, he could discern that place out once a
large and imposing castle.
The stones were all clear, smooth and polished color under the moss and gravel
that had accumulated over the centuries. The panels of the window openings
opened onto a large courtyard surrounded by buildings and longer
casualties. And all around, there was a stone towers connected to the wall,
built that same pale stone.



The towers gleamed in the silent snow, like ghostly sentinels
also beware that old place. Stephen, however, felt far more
I saw something lurked hidden under the cloak of snow and debris.
With the instinct of every warrior who had stepped on a battlefield and
smelled of death, knew that a fierce fight had taken place in
sometime within those walls.
Rallying against spotted the signs: the blackened eaves of clear stones,
where the fire had swept the castle; jars and metal scattered of pieces
broken pottery; and in the large main room, the tattered remains
some lost banners and disintegrated skeletons of past
defenders who had bravely made a last-ditch effort to win
an impossible fight.

Ancient armor battle lay fallen around the decaying ruins
what looked like a huge round table. Twelve chest harnesses
and twelve swords were stones on the ground, as if the warriors
without forces had simply lain down to rest for some
time, before resuming the battle.

Slowly he approached the table. The surface showed very
damaged and tarnished by the action of the elements that had taken possession of the
castle in the centuries after the final battle. Old inscriptions in
surface of the rock was still visible.
Stephen ran his fingers lightly down the tabletop. There figures
warriors carved panels which circumvented the edge. Inside the ring of panels, another ring letters
forming words written in Latin, however indecipherable.


Away the debris from the side, but in the dim light, I could not read them
clearly. Then, suddenly, he pulled his hand back, a brusque gesture.
Although it was unbearably cold inside the ruined castle, his fingers
tingled as if he had touched something hot and alive.
The snow had become a cold rain. The wind rose, and Stephen heard
distant rumble of thunder. At the top, the opening in the ceiling, the spokes
sparkled. The glow brightened the walls blackened with soot.
However, inside the fortress, there was a strange silence of expectation,
as those often experienced moments right before a battle,
when it seemed that the heart of every warrior ceased his frantic beat.
He turned and saw a young man found in the hallway outside the
Guilherme cut.
Under the sudden coruscate of lightning cracked through the roof, your skin
was pale as ivory fine, as if he had stepped out of one of those stones
old. His eyes were an extraordinary shade of violet, to illuminate the
high cheekbones; and the hair, the color of the night sky. Around
neck she wore a necklace with stones that had been carved
unusual recordings. There seemed a creature of this world. But when
Stephen reached out and touched her, the slender arm was flesh and blood,
hot and very real.
- Need to leave this place now - the girl murmured, distressed. - It is dangerous
you're here.
His other hand closed over his, and again Stephen felt that
tingling unusual heat. When contact was taken again by the same
sudden sense of alienation and confusion, as if the hand of
off the court of William, just before the world explode your opinion
round. And again surprised by the strength that he perceived that pulse
delicate, as if she could get rid of with a slight gesture. But he did not.
- Please - the girl begged again. - Should not be here.
- But I am. Who are you? - He asked. - What is this place?
- Just a dream - she snapped. - There is. Stephen's fingers are
closed around the wrist of the young.
- There is. Tell me! - He pulled her against him. It was not a dream. was
actually hot, flesh and bone.
The cloak seemed radiate on the delicate shoulders and rustling around
slender body. Under the pale, shimmering fabric, full breasts
they were compressed against him, and delicate shaped hips to the forms of
Stephen.
Faced with a contact so intimate, she lifted her head, eyes violet
darken until it seemed as dark and unfathomable as the night;
gasped the sweet breath to exhale the parted lips. And that sound
trembling, he felt a sudden and powerful passion.
So, well beyond the walls in ruins and towers with tassel
some king had long disappeared, Stephen heard a noise
distinguished, as familiar to him as breathing. Sounds of battle. drew
young with you to the opening of the large room window.
Above the Storm, heard the clank of steel, the clatter of horses, the cries
dying, amid the growing storm. The sickening stench of death
ascended the valley, beyond the castle walls, carried away by raging wind.
War.




The young man closed his hand again on his arm, and Stephen turned.
Even if it was a dream, I knew that place was.
Camelot, the legendary kingdom of the ruler who once had ruled all of Britain.
The storm broke, and lightning exploded near the window. Instead of trying
get rid, Stephen felt that the young man's hand closed over hers. she
pulled toward the light.
Again, experienced the intense flare and chaos of visions
and noises to erupt around. And then realized that was falling, and that the hand
the girl escaped from his ...
Stephen felt the hard, cold stone that scratched her hands and face.
He rose slowly from the ground. The torches of the corridor and steam
flickered and then burned harder.
As her senses focused, he heard familiar voices to discuss in the hall nearby. The guards
acknowledged that the post
entry court. Everything was familiar to him, just like when the left
hall. But this time, the girl was nowhere to be found.
That was real? Or had he just imagined?
She opened her fingers slowly. Closed in your hand so tight that left a
imprint in the palm, was one of the shining stones necklace she wore.
When had held at that old place, the necklace was broken. The stone
had in his hand was proof that Stephen not imagined! But, if not
out imagination, then what happened?
He looked at the clear and polished stone. The image was carved on the surface of the
figure of a man wielding a gun. For those who believed
in ancient runes and destiny predicted, was the symbol of the warrior.
Rags of mist, like gray veils of the wrapped trees
forest on the outskirts of London, the overcast dawn. There was a chill
in the air that heralded the fall and then the winter in their heels. the
leaves of vegetation greenness had lost, dyed in yellow
edges, swooning in shades of gold and orange, still attached to twigs, in
high, as small golden banners.
The horses whinnied in the stables, impatient, the vapor of the breath
condense in the cold air. Felt the next day and were restless
to escape the confines of your boxes.
The swords of battle had a dull glow in the early morning
gray. Had rolled mattresses, attached to the saddles. two wagons
carrying provisions. When ran out, would live than they could
on earth.
- You're going against the orders of the king - Stephen Rorke Fitzwarren advised,
face to face meeting between the Warriors to continue their journey, anxiety
heating the blood to them.
Accompanied his young friend from the fortress of the Tower of London. one by
one night away, knights and other warriors had also left the
fortitude, regroup to sleep in the forest. The food and wagons
had come to the city because there was always some greedy merchant
willing to earn gold coins, no matter the hour.
Stephen does not pick up gals back and tunic with the emblem of Valois,
whose domain title and William had given him a year before, on merit. wore,
instead, a tunic and black tights. His shield format
kite, which hung from the saddle, was also black, with a unique brand of color
Blood drawn on the diagonal and below the Latin word Desdicado. a
word - unfortunate - who proudly proclaimed his birth
bastard.
- I'm not contradicting any order - Stephen retorted to close
belt sheath his sword with hard, furious gestures. Then launched a
look at Rorke and slowly, a smile appeared on her face. a smile
cunning and ferocious, very similar to the father when William was faced
unsustainable chances on a battlefield. - The king said only
I could require nothing.
Okay, I do not demand anything. - Rank of the last tie belt
was holding the weapons at hand, in the saddle. - As commander of the
the king's army, sworn to protect him against any threat or danger. I feel that
there is a threat to the kingdom. Therefore it is my duty to pursue and destroy this
threat.
- His own interpretation of the words of the king - Rorke muttered, knowing full well
that such an attitude would not do any good if Stephen William preferred to
interpret otherwise.

- The exact words of the king on the day they honored me with the post.
- And if, as chancellor of the king, I forbid to go to the West Country? -
Rorke asked, prepared to do so if he could prevent a confrontation
dangerous between father and son, though he already knew the answer.
Stephen's smile disappeared, replaced by another expression that
Rorke knew the father; relentless and resolute expression when a
decision had been made and could not be changed.
- Do not ban - Stephen warned. - I do not like to lose a father and my
best friend on the same day. But it should be, that is. - Without leaving
certainly, repeated: - I go to the West Country. Do not try to stop me. - His
strongly abated. - You, of course, of all people, understands why
what.
- Really understand. All I ask is that you wait a while.
- For what? To my father find dozens of reasons and keep me in London, while the other
sends his knights to far ensure the kingdom? What about John Curthose? Was an honorable man.
He did not deserve to die like he died. - Stephen shook his head, his mouth
a rigid tight line. He held the mattress behind the saddle. - Guilherme
I will not declare your child or allow me to seek my own
target. - He pulled the straps with fury. - I did everything he asked me. nothing
I asked in return, except a chance to prove myself a knight of value,
but he denies me the opportunity when it arises. As negative my
existence.
Finished tying his cot rolling. Looked at his friend and mentor.
- I need to do this - said, his voice suddenly strained to recall the
meeting the night before. It was a meeting that did not understand, but
that, somehow, I felt that was part of his journey.
The polished stone engraved with the figure of the warrior was tied in
cam the saddle, an amulet that meeting. He held it between his thumb and
forefinger, feeling its warmth, as if he still retained the warmth of
young. Then his expression closed, to conceal his thoughts.
- I need to do this - Stephen repeated. - And I know that my father would try to stop
if he knew.
- Some might call his actions of betrayal - Rorke pondered. - No
minimum, is nonsense. You can take only a few men.
- Almost the same number that you took when ventured to the North Country - Stephen replied,
his mouth curving into a
smile. So, it was very serious. - Men who ride with me are the
best warriors. You helped train them. We travel with lightweight and
quickly, as the rebels seek.
Rorke knew that boy like yourself. Also knew the demons
house against which he struggled, as if confronted with the same battle

due to equal birth bastard. His father, however, was not a king,
who could not make choices with the heart; his father had no heart.
There was nothing he could say to convince Rorke Stephen, and both
knew it.
Pressed the knight in arms, willing to follow him, to protect him,
as the young had protected against many enemy sometimes.
- Go with God, my friend, and care. I will protect him here in London,
much as possible.
Stephen Rorke's arms tightened with strong hands. In his speech,
had a profound gratitude.
- Thank you.

Once Rorke walked away to talk to other riders, a figure
appeared a delicate swirl of mist. Then, as if the mist
deflected in the opposite direction, carried by some invisible current of air,
Stephen saw Brianna lady, the wife of his friend Tarek al Sharif.
Her hair was like the sunshine through the haze, and eyes the color
clearings of forests. The gray dawn seemed to wrap it as
she was part of the mist, not a creature of this earth. His steps were hesitant; look,
cautious.
He said nothing at first, but slowly approached the horse. The animal,
nervous, could easily hurt her with a single step. but Brianna
not seem to notice or worry. He reached out and laid it in
muscular horse's neck. Almost immediately, the animal calmed down, and
snorted contentedly in a puff of steam.
Stephen never failed to intrigue the effect that all women that
family caused in animals. As if they were kindred spirits, the animals
seemed to sense that they had nothing to fear from those ladies.
Brianna stroked his velvety muzzle, horse whispering words
soft, unintelligible. The stallion lowered his head and seemed to hear. it then
smiled and looked up at Stephen.
- It is a gift to all of my blood. We have a oneness with the
nature and everything that is part of it. - He turned the stallion, even post
beside Stephen. But continued to stroke the animal's neck. - Rorke
failed to dissuade him from leaving - she murmured, not as a question,
but as a statement, as if he had heard the whole conversation. - I know
you should go. I saw the skeins woven tapestry. - His voice was sad.
- You're part of it now, as she, the youngest of violet eyes.
Stephen had not told anyone of their encounter in the hallway, woman
unusual hair color with midnight eyes and a violet
extraordinary, wrapped in a veil gleaming; or her experience when touched, as if
stepped into another world.
- The resemblance is strong in my family - Brianna murmured, with a subtle smile, to know his
thoughts. - Her name is Cassandra -
continued, the smile replaced with a sad expression. - She is my sister.
Stephen's eyes narrowed. If the girl was Brianna's sister, so it was
also daughter of Merlin. He knew the legend, as most of the world, the
great and wise counselor of the English monarch, who was allegedly
imprisoned and later died, after the death of King Arthur. some
Merlin said it was simply a very learned man, but others
said that it was much more than that. A man of talents and powers
unusual, extracted from the forces of nature.



Stephen had seen such powers with his own eyes. Vivian Amesbury had
healing abilities; could mend torn flesh and broken bones.
Had the ability to see events before succeeding, and
power of fire as a vital force that lived within him.
Brianna just recently discovered the full extent of own
powers. The power to know the thoughts of others without need for
words, and, most extraordinary of all, the gift of transformation. to
extract the powers of Light that flowed in his blood, as in her sister, she
could take many different forms.
The mother was Ninian, The Lady of the Lake. It was she who had carried the sword
Excalibur for the world between worlds and had given Merlin, after Arthur's death. Ninian had
joined Merlin
that world because he could not live in her.
There, on that magical prison, Merlin off father of three daughters, who had been
sent away in order to live in anonymity, in the mortal world,
they could be safe from the powers of Darkness.
Brianna captured the thoughts of Stephen. Her eyes followed him and
then widened to see tied rune on the shoulder of the saddle.
- Where did you get that stone? - Before Stephen answered, Brianna
felt the answer. - Cassandra - murmured to take the rune between
fingers. - We have not heard from her for many years. - Before the surprise of
Stephen, she explained: - Cassandra thought that our parents had
abandoned. When Merlin refused to allow her to return, was
hurt and angry. Then he refused to accept his inheritance. Never returned to
world of mist.
He ran his finger down the polished surface of the stone, as if he saw more than
image recorded there.
- We do not know what powers it has.
- I saw her. She's here - Stephen revealed, without seeing any reason for not
tell it to Brianna. She believed in what others would not believe.
- The rune is hers.
Brianna shook her head, still holding the stone between his fingers.
- I felt the presence of Cassandra soon as I saw the stone.
- Maybe now she decides to return.
When prying eyes, Brianna had a distant expression, as if unveiled something that others could
not.
- Whatever the reason that brought her, she was, and without a word, nor
even our mother.
- Where to? Brianna stared.
- He returned to the West Country.
- How is it possible? I saw two nights ago, outside of the royal court, and
are many days of travel in difficult terrain and dangerous regions to the land
Westerners. If ... what I saw was real.

Stephen learned in previous encounters with the powers of Light and
Darkness, it was nothing it seemed. Could not be trusted in everything
means, as the forces assumed many forms and used disguises. scars
latest he carried were proof of the power of those forces.
Brianna felt the frustration and confusion of Stephen to capture her
thoughts: the encounter with Cassandra, the incredible journey that made the
images of the ruined castle fortress.
- It was very real. Feel the lifeblood of my sister in stone. If your
meeting was just an illusion, I would not be captured her presence.
Brianna got to wonder what Cassandra brought to London after
all those years. So close to the family, had refused any contact.
One thing he knew for sure: the encounter with Cassandra Stephen was
part of what was woven into the tapestry.
- Your journey has begun - mumbled. He shuddered as he felt something
I could not see, perceive only. A disturbance in the forces of Light
evened their world and protected the deadly danger of.
Darkness grew as her sister Vivian turns on the tapestry. but one
Brianna thing not yet felt: that Cassandra had immortal powers.
Had her sister away the powers of Light and Darkness facing?
As to concentrate on the essence that will endure in stone, as a
remnant of the heat that was part of the presence of Cassandra, Brianna not
managed to capture anything about the powers of the sister. And realized that this was
part of the journey that he hoped Stephen de Valois.
- There will be an immense danger - Brianna told him, unable to feel
exactly where would the danger. Expected at least give you a warning
to help him protect himself.
- I do not know who you can trust. But the mission is far more
to avenge the death of their comrades and secure the throne of William
against the rebel attack.
From the folds of the robe, pulled out a small roll of cloth. Was thin,
no more than a ribbon, and color of gray haze. He held the handle
Stephen and tied the ribbon around.
- It is an amulet - explained. - The wires are the same as those in tissues
tapestry. But, if it is placed on the wrist of Cassandra, she will be without
powers, like any mortal.
- Given the dubious expression of Stephen, Brianna warned:
- Do not doubt me, warrior. For I speak the truth.


This will protect you. It may well be the only protection because, for what will come, your
sword of no avail.
Stephen looked at the narrow ribbon. Seemed delicate and fragile, such as a
talisman given to a young rider before a tournament. however
was strong as the best steel sword found in the empires of the East
East. The color changed. There was more gray on one side and blue on the other, but if
changed constantly, to shine in intermediate nuances.
- You know what danger can protect myself? - Stephen asked.
The sad eyes, saw the answer: Cassandra, the own sister Brianna.
- You need to find the old Oracle. It was stolen by the powers of
Dark, five hundred years ago, when Merlin was banished from the kingdom. Cassandra
is the only one who can find him. Only she can use her power.
He hesitated for a moment.
- There's more. Not even Merlin can feel the true heart
Cassandra. It is possible that she turned to the powers of Darkness. The
tape amulet will give you strength for what needs to be done as it has the
Merlin's power combined with my sister and my.
She did not need to explain what should be done.
- What is Oracle? How will I know? Brianna smiled.
- You'll know when you see it, and if you're lucky enough strength to triumph. It is the
Antique crystal that contains the knowledge do Universe.

Whoever possesses the oracle will have access to this knowledge and
power to change the future of humanity. Once the crystal belonged to
Merlin. But it was stolen and hidden during the great cataclysm, when
Arthur, the former king, was betrayed and killed.

- What can you tell me about the threat in Western lands?
- It's real. The Welsh prince joined the rebels, along with the Saxons
who fled after the death of King Harold at Hastings field. he did not
Western intends to return to his father land.
- Can there be peace?
- I do not know. The powers of darkness are strengthened in the lands of the West, because it was
There it all began, long ago. The future is in gestation, nor
even Merlin can see the result.
- What about John Tregaron? - Stephen asked, for it was on the border
the lands of their riders Tregaron friends had been attacked and
dead.
- Is ambitious. Search only protect the fortune. Will do whatever it
necessary to protect what is yours. - Brian on the felt, however, that
Tregaron was not the biggest threat. - If it is strong and cunning, you can deal
with him.
Stephen noticed the hesitation in his voice and asked:
- Do you feel anything else? She agreed.
- Something I can not clearly discern. But there is another threat,
much more dangerous: the danger of Darkness.
Not Tregaron, but someone close to him. More than that you can not
say, since it was revealed to me. - After a moment's hesitation,
Brianna continued: - You will need someone to guide you through the lands of the West.
I can take you there, because I can see what you can not see. He shook his
head, and the answer came firmly:
- I can not afford. And even if I could, I would never leave her husband.
Will I have enough enemies in the lands of the West, do not need another
what is one of my closest friends.
- But you have only the guidelines of Sir Gavin and men
returned to him. Can not remember everything correctly. is it dangerous
free travel guide in unknown lands ...
Gently, but firmly, Stephen refused.
- No, Lady Brianna, I forbid you. If the danger is as I said, do not put
also at risk. Also - added - his image was not
Woven in tapestry panel.
She could not deny the truth of the statement. That was the fate of
Stephen and Cassandra. The magical images, not clearly
defined, could only be discovered by Stephen de Valois and her sister.
- Okay - agreed reluctantly.
The clearing, the call came for all mount their horses. day
been born and mist was rising slowly from the forest. needed from
while it was time before being seen by the guards of the king, the
walls of the fortress. Stephen jumped into the saddle.
Around your wrist, again the amulet glowed a shade of violet
deep. It was warm to the touch, as if alive. Your thoughtful look
Brianna found.
- What will happen to this fortress and everyone in here if I fail?
Without being needs to be said, she knew the thoughts of Stephen
were the father, whom he loved, even daring. could show
anger and resentment, even disobedience to the world, but in his
Heart had a deep love for the man who fathered.
Brianna shook her head and said in a solemn tone:
- You can not fail.


With the battle armor and weapons concealed, using only pants and
simple robes and carrying hunting gear for swimming the
identified as Army soldiers and knights of King Stephen and his
men emerged from the forest once the fog lifted. headed for
London.
A twenty strong men riding together, or simply dresses
in full armor, draw attention. And the guard patrolling Guilherme
regular routes of arrival. Thus, in small groups followed
no more than two or three, with the hoods pulled over the faces.
Sir Kay, newly arrived from Normandy, was a young knight who
Stephen trained. It was the last of the group, with face stained with dirt
to hide his features, and grimy clothes that reeked of a smell
horrible. Could pass thief was not his noble birth. Drove the wagon
provisions, with his horse following behind.
It took almost two hours for everyone to cross the city. Join in a small grove just outside
the old Roman road linking London to cities and towns to the west.
Sir Kay was the last to arrive.
Still had several hours and had to put distance between the group and
, As much as possible before it was the absence of all
discovery. As a further precaution to avoid being followed, the group
headed inland through the forest instead of using the old Roman road.
Continued to travel well after nightfall, the track of the road guilos
the distance, in the light of the crescent moon, who played at hide among
the clouds. Not lit bonfires, and ate bread, cheese and strips
carae-dry each carrying a saddle, the saddle. The next morning,
before the fog lifted and the sky would clear, moved on.

Avoided towns, villages and farms, so no one knew who had
passed that way. As the first night, after dark, not
opened fire.
On the third day of travel, Stephen forced riders and mounts to
exhaustion before stopping beside a small creek at the edge of
woods, just before sundown sun. That night, they lit bonfires,
while several men penetrated the forest to hunt. Sir Kay was
provisions taking the cart. Nobody complained, but the promise of meat
hot it was tempting for everyone.
Then a shriek cut the camp. Weapons were wielded.
Several of the men of Stephen, who went into the woods to hunt
returned, but equal numbers fell, hiding in the forest, eyes
watch in camp.
- Take your hands off the girl, your dirty monster! - A voice bellowed. - Or I will
rip the guts out like a codfish!
All around the camp, the men of Stephen converged to
the wagon provision and Sir Kay. Was not his voice they heard.
Sir Kay was in the back of the wagon, between the crates of chickens
scattered on the floor, bags of grain, frizzy breads, dried fruits
and cheeses. As the torches illuminated the clearing, all encountered
with an unusual scene.
An old witch faced. Had half its height and it was dry as
a reed. The long white hair framed her face like a
silver cloud. A bony hand full of protruding veins, clung to a
staff on which it rested. The shoulders were curved and fragile in costumes
torn. On the other hand he held a long, thin knife with the tip
targeted with deadly precision in the vulnerable area just below the belt sir
Kay, as if he had every intention to meet the threat.
Sir Kay was planted in place as if it had taken root, and dared not
even breathing. But holding the arm of a slender young woman.
I was a kid and also dressed with simplicity as the old witch, but the resemblance ended there.
Perhaps he had no more than
fourteen or fifteen, the oval face to take the carved angles that
to become a beauty. The skin was pale and luminous, almost translucent
like a pearl, the torchlight. His eyes, wide and full of
fright, drew attention because they were the color of aquamarines or blue
or green, but in an unusual hue between the two.
Wordlessly, she struggled to free herself from the clutches of Sir Kay and.
As she struggled, the hood of the mantle fell on his shoulders. her hair
loosened and glittered in the torchlight. They were a deep, rare color,
hot honey with gold accents.
Stephen ordered his men to recede weapons.
- Are my guts that the witch wants to boot - Sir Kay complained, for
between clenched teeth.
- I should help her - Stephen replied. - Loosen the girl.
- They were hidden in the wagon. And the old woman threatened me with a knife. god
knows what he is capable.
- Much more than you can imagine or would like to try -
Stephen said. And he repeated: - Loosen the girl.
Utterly confused, Sir Kay obeyed. The youth fled back of the wagon, and
the old lady finally dropped the knife. His expression sobered,
softened by a slight smile. He turned to Stephen and the torchlight,
men saw that his eyes were milky, bluish color full
obstructed by blindness.

- I suppose it's not necessary to ask how you got the wagon -
murmured Stephen.
The old woman laughed.
- Only if you were a fool, Stephen de Valois, and that you are not. maybe hardheaded
and impetuous, but not a fool.
Sir Kay looked from one to another in disbelief. The other men began to
back to camp.
- You know this old?
- Yes - agreed Stephen, torn between anger and frustration. - I
know. Called Meg
- Meg? The guardian of Lady Vivian?
- Went to guardian it once! - Meg exclaimed proudly, as he turned
for voice as though he had sight. - Now that Vivian met its
destination, I am no longer needed.
- It is not necessary here - Stephen said. - Will return to London.
- Ah, warrior ... - She sighed. - Do not do that since it would require sending an
his men with me, and cannot; will need all the lands
the West. Also need someone to guide you there.
Sir Kay snorted and laughed.
- You, old witch? A guide? Blind?
Meg turned and met with remarkable accuracy, vulnerable flesh with
tip of the knife, as if it were not blind, but see as well as he.
- I was born in the West Country. I know every valley, river stone. And I do not need
these eyes to see what I need.



Stephen pulled away gently.
- No need to ask who sent it. Meg gave him a smile
significant.
- Was not target or even her sister Vivian venture by Country
West. But there was nothing in the tapestry that says an old could not
accompany him.
- And the girl? Cannot talk? - Sir Kay asked in a bolder tone
than it should.
Meg vacant eyes narrowed.
- Her name is Amber. Lost his speech for many years, since his village
family was attacked and murdered. - So, frowned, as if
had captured a thought he did not express aloud. -
Take care, warrior - she warned. - I approach without being
envisioned in his cot and bury this knife between his ribs before
you know what happened, if you touch the girl again. It is not
for you.
- Leave her alone - Stephen added his warning to the old. - The girl
not be treated as an escort campaign.
- I will finish unloading the wagon after - Sir Kay hastened to say,
then picked up two crates of chickens and took them to the bonfire
camp at a safe distance.
Stephen turned to the old Meg
- It will not cause problems to the girl - assured. - In the morning, you
return to London. One of my men will escort them to the limits
city.


Meg shrugged.
- We will run and follow them. You cannot stop. And will a man
least of which desperately need in the coming weeks.
Stephen knew that Meg spoke the truth. And if he tried to tie his hands
and feet, she would run the same way as it was a descendant of an enchanted
and a mortal. Although his powers were limited, could still find
ways to elude him and his men, and he had no time for such things.
- We will leave you and the girl in the next village - Stephen warned without
want to take on the burden of following with the old and the young. - Are they safe
there. For now, they can stay on the wagon for your use. - He glanced at
toward the sky, where the clouds hid the stars. - They will be protected
bad weather. - Then he turned and returned to camp. Meg snorted.
We will see Warrior. We'll see.















chapter II


Cabana was at the end of the trail, skirted by trees and surrounded by
forest. He stood there so long ago that no one remembered no more
when. Above the sound of the wind in the trees, the thunderous roar of the
resounded ocean, as the waves were falling from the cliffs
old, where the forest met the sea.
They called him "angry sea," as a pot to boil and
bubbling beneath the dripping rocks, covered with moss
greenish, while above, perched on a high promontory,
like a toothless old hag whose bones whitened the
sun, were the ruins of Tintagel, an ancient fortress with origins that
lost in myth.
Some said that the legendary King Arthur was born there. Overlooked the sea
West, which some called the big lake, toward an island
visible only occasionally through the mist and clouds. The former
name of the island was Avalon.
The ruins of Tintagel were empty, now inhabited only by marine birds.
Guarded the secrets of the fortress, perched as
sentinels along the top of the crumbling walls, each calling
other before diving from their perches on the shoals, between
rocks and lagoons formed by the tide, fishing for fish and crustaceans
left behind with the receding waters.
A spiral of smoke rolled up the chimney on the roof of straw
hut that stood in the shadow of Tintagel. Carried a strange odor and
Stinging from some old stock.
It was there that farmers, villagers, fishermen and woodsmen came for
healing potions and herbal teas Old to relieve any sickness or
disabling injury. Others came for very different reasons.
Crept silently through the forest, appearing at the door
alone or in groups of two or three, looking for help and guidance to
old way, the way of the ancestors, who believed in the powers of
earth, wind and sky.
Their requests were always met in one way or another. Elora did not
sent anyone away. But there were some whom she refused to
receive, those who she did not trust.
Many already had seen in the forest, to rely heavily on a staff, the
collect moss and lichens, gathering a lot of dead things and
the moldy cloth bag that hung from his belt knotted at her waist. But
there were others who claimed that the creature they saw was no
crone witch, but an in-ordinary young beauty who quickly disappeared when the sighted.

Inside the cabin, a huge white wolf raised his head suddenly from
on paws, erect ears toward the door, made of skins
Animal stretched on a wooden frame.
- Yes - said a voice coming from near the stove. - I also heard my
friend. We have a visitor. - The voice was not old nor young, but
a timeless voice that sighed as the sound of wind. - The girl, Lodi, the
Castle Tregaron. Came to ask for more post mistress.
The white wolf rose, the thick tuft of hair on your neck bristle.
- Lodi is harmless - the voice near the fire, someone invisible until then
finally took shape, when one who lived there came out of the shadows.
Is it that the boss thinks is a witch of lost gear. - Snorted the
impatience. - Spells with herbal mixtures, cobwebs and land
desecrated graves. Lady Margeaux believes it is only a matter
to find the right potion to give you the power you like.
Begun with healing potions to distribute among the villagers of Tregaron.
Then post to relieve the black humor of Tregaron Lord John, his brother.
More recently, off to the cabin in the forest, in person, looking for
other potions that could give you the power of intuition.
Back to the cabin one afternoon not long ago, the sensitive
find Margeaux of Tregaron already inside,
between the ceramic jugs and jars containing herbs and medicinal powders.
Although the lady he claimed innocence, she realized that some herbs
Precious and few post had been stolen.
The loss not bothered, but the growing fixation on this woman
powers that thought mixtures possess.
- We need to find something to send back to the girl -
said aloud, for white wolf. - Something that distracts Mrs.. of Tregaron
for some time.
He turned to the shelf of jars and bottles, according to a blocked form
the light in the doorway. While the White Wolf took a stance
Protective between the woman and input, sensory exclaimed, in a voice that
seemed as old as time:
- Between, girl! What like?
However, with wise eyes the color of the deepest violet, she already knew
that the girl had come to ask.
Lodi hesitantly entered the hut. His eyes lingered a moment until
accustomed to the gloom. Always surprised that this was a place
so enjoyable. Not dark and damp, or smelling of rotten odors,
horrible, yet warm and welcoming, penetrating aromas pass
the opening of the door. But the creatures that inhabited the hut with
Old always preached him a fright.
Now, closing the door behind him and his eyes adjust to the dim light
inside, solid suddenly seeing the huge gerbil rat now
the old to hide in the corner of the stove.
She had seen rats in the grain tank and pantries in Tregaron, but the
size that creature always amazed. Had the pointy features of
a rat, but was the size of a large cat. Not flee from
fear, but watched from the shadows. It seemed that her eyes shone with
a gray-silver color that transparent. The girl approached with
reluctance.
- Come on, girl. Do not be shy. - With a slight smile, the old
amended: - I will not eat it. - Saw the wary look that shadowed the
features of the youngster. - Should not believe everything you hear. Tell me, what
that brings the forest?
- My lady looking for a tonic - Lodi explained, taking a purse
the folds of the robe.
Old eyes sharpened. Did you know that the bag contained gold pieces,
payment for powders and potions. Gold that would be given to those who
needed after the girl was gone because of Tregaron Margeaux
was incapable of generosity and taxed farmers in Tregaron
taxes that took them to misery.
- What kind of bracing? - Old asked to turn to the cauldron
seething and bubbling on the stove and spread lavender on the boiling broth.
- What ails your mistress?
Even before the girl spoke, the words captured the Old and wrinkled her
frown.
- Not Disease - Lodi explained. - She wants a physical fortifying a
potion to return it the appearance of youth.
- In a hesitant gesture, put the bag of coins on the table next.
- What about her powers? - Old asked. - I heard that your
employer is considered a great sorceress. What need have a
old woman like me?
- Every day my boss looks in the mirror and sees a new line or brand.
And is very worried, especially now.
The Old frowned.
- Why are you so worried now?
The girl looked around, as if the walls might have ears.
- Because she is not married. Is very excited for it. Encourages Lord John
to join his army to the other Welsh princes planning an
attack. But if King William to invade the lands of the West with all its
army, invaded England as she is determined to prepare for
make an advantageous alliance.
A deep frown creased his brow Old. That same morning, had
a very unusual sight. Cut his hand by accident, when collecting rare herbs
in the forest. Bled a lot. Upon returning to the cabin, a little blood
will drip in small bowl of water when cleaning out the wound.
In scarlet stain that had formed, with the by turando blood to water,
she had a vision: armed warriors who did not wear badges,
assembled in large warhorses and bathed in blood. but not
predicted the ambitious plans Margeaux. For the first time, its own
powers had failed him.
- Where will this attack? - Old asked, curling his fingers over the
palm, where the cut had healed yet.
- In plain Brodmir, the mouth of the valley. The directors of Lord John
say it is the perfect place to corral them. Are all dead, of course,
as were the first.
With stiff lips in a row, the Old put two bags of powder on hand
the girl.
- Take this to your mistress - instructed.
- You will regain your youth and beauty? If not, I fear that it is
very angry.
The Old agreed.
- Tell your boss that must be mixed precisely; two parts of the powder
blue with a piece of white powder and cooked slowly until it becomes
liquid. Then needs to cool down.
- Will it work? - Lodi asked with an incredulous expression.
- Yes, it will - the Old replied with a wave of his hand. - Now go away.
Saw the girl turned to leave and felt also when hesitated and was going to get
the bag of coins back as her mistress had instructed to do.
- Leave the bag and go - the Old murmured, lowering his voice to a
grumbling. - It's getting dark. Will not want to be caught by night in
forest, alone.
Before the warning, Lodi ran out of the hut, leaving
the bag on the table. The Old stopped stirring the cauldron and turned to
look at the girl, she had left the door open in a hurry.
The huge gerbil disappeared. Instead, transformed, was the wolf
White, who growled softly.

- Yes, Fallon - the lady said with pained voice. The wolf looked at her with those
Wise eyes, silver. The Old also transformed, assuming other
Since its true form, a young and delicate woman, beauty
unusual, with hair the color of the wings of a crow and violet eyes.
- You need to go - she ordered the wolf. The air shivered around
seeming to contain dark secrets. - The soldiers of King William should
be warned of the attack.
In his thoughts, he recalled the sight of morning, the warriors
covered in blood, and he who led them with no badge on
tunic or shield, only the black color and the word he used, one,
that blood poured from his shell: I deside.
Stephen and his men had camped within the narrow mouth of the valley.
There was fresh water and plenty of grass for the horses. A fruitful hunting out in
forest. Even so, he felt uneasy, as before a battle, with that inexplicable rush of energy that seemed
to burn her skin and
that prevented him to sit beside the fire with his men.
Sir Kay and John Lacey approached.
- The girl and the old are gone.

- Where last seen? - Stephen asked.
- Just before we camp. Thought the old needed a
moment of privacy. I did not take her eyes for more than a moment.
- A moment is all it needs - Stephen retorted dryly,
because during the last few days, he and Meg had signed an alliance nothing
Easy: Stephen would not try to send her back to England, and she did not
try to turn their men into stones, which I fully believed
you might be able to do.
- In what direction were seen?
- Near the large rocky cluster we passed. She went back
a huge stone.
- A stone behind which you would not see - Stephen muttered to
guess the cleverness of women, blind as he was, to elude his guards.
- I'm so sorry - said Sir Kay.
- Lady Vivian really likes that old. You will have much to regret
even if any harm comes to her. - He turned back to the horse. -
Back before the moon is in the midst of heaven.
- I'll go along - John Lacey said. - The region is unknown and dangerous.
- Stay with others - Stephen ordered. - A is only a target less
two visible. I find the old and the girl. Do not tarry. - He led the
horse out of the camp.
The moon provided little light to slowly rise from the horizon.

Stephen marked the way, memorizing the unusual rock formations
or a peculiar curve of land under the pale moonlight. The West Country seemed
present many peculiarities. Then advanced by a group of trees and
faced with an unusual panorama.
Become accustomed to seeing huge rocks while traveling, but this was a
unusual provision. The setting did pull the reins. Instead of
piled or stacked one over the other, as if some giant the
had played at the base of the hill, the stones were posted up,
as menhirs.
They were huge, at least the height of two men, dark and shiny
the moonlight. Also great rocks were arranged as dolmens on
top of several pairs of standing stones, forming a large open circle
the flat terrain of the valley.
Stephen then saw the girl, Amber, first stop outside the
circle of stones, under one of the menhirs. Meg was within
circle, his head thrown back, arms open.
The horse refused to move. Snorted and shied when Stephen tried
force him to go ahead. Finally, he dismounted and tied the reins of
stallion on a branch. Continued on foot. When you get closer to the rocks,
heard the voice of Meg old who sang unintelligible words in a
strange cadence.
Stephen came over to where I was the girl, calling her softly to
not frighten her. She turned. his vivid blue eyes looked clear as moon-stones, hair like gold
dark in the moonlight.
Trembled, for the night was cold, and neither she nor Meg wore
their robes. Stephen ordered Amber back and wait near the
horse. Then slowly approached the circle of stones.
- I know it's there, warrior - Meg said softly. - Approach to
very careful or you will scare her. - He felt the unspoken question and
explained: - The magnificent creature on the other side of the stone circle.
It was amazing the soft heat inside the circle, he felt upon entering, as
if the wind did not get there, though there were huge gaps between the
menhirs. As Stephen approached the old, finally saw the creature of
which she had spoken.
It was a magnificent white wolf, larger than any he had ever seen. was
the opposite side of the circle, within the space of blues further north menhirs.
Once Stephen stood beside old Meg to the silver gaze of the wolf
spiked himself on it.
Stephen had seen that same look in the eyes of an animal before
attack. Did not expect was the old face with a wild animal.
She wished she had brought the sword had left the saddle, but drew his dagger
hunting belt sheath. Meg reached up and grabbed his wrist with the
ease and sure of who saw.
- Do not do any good - muttered. - The creature is protected by
stone circle and cannot be killed.
- And I'm not protected inside the circle - Stephen retorted with
sarcasm.
- Do not be afraid. The creature came to warn you.
The hairs prickled at the nape of Stephen, an instinctive alarm. the old
scars on his shoulder, achieved an encounter with a creature of
Dark, tingled as recently healed. Each muscle was
tense.
- What warning?
- In serious danger - said Meg - The no more than two days' journey
from here. There will be an attack. You and your men will be inferior in
number at least ten to one, as were the knights who
came before you.
- The wolf told you that?
- The wolf is the messenger. Brought the message to another person.
Stephen's eyes narrowed.
- What game is this?
- Game no warrior, but deadly serious subject. You and your men are at grave risk. Many will die,
unless you hear the warning and
take precautions.

- Precautions? Against an army ten times larger? Maybe you should
ask the wolf as it can be done - suggested with irony and
dismay.
Meg shrugged.
- Are you the warrior. It's up to you to determine. - Then a slow smile
bowed her mouth. - But there is no rule that says you should
encounter this enemy in open battle.
- Who sent the creature? - Stephen asked.
Meg smiled. In asking the question, he had accepted the message as true.
- You met the warrior, the lost kingdom. My young mistress, lady
Cassandra.
- Where will it happen? - Stephen wondered, but as he turned, the white wolf
it off as he disappeared into the mist that slowly rose in
around the stones, until a cloud enveloped the whole circle.
- You have been warned - Meg reminded him and called the girl, Amber, when
back and out of the ring of stones. - Do the best.
Stephen did not leave immediately the circle, but stood there, knowing that
unusual feeling as if he had, once again, withdrawn from the world
Real to another world that existed in parallel.
His fingers closed on the polished rune engraved with the symbol, he
tied belt, and again felt unusual warmth that despite the air
cold of the night. The same heat from inside the stone ring.
Upon leaving, glanced back. The dolmens on top of a soft blue,
seem to sparkle with an immaterial light under the arch of the growing light. when
looked again, the moon hid. The stones seemed giants Real Estate,
silent, keepers of secrets.
Near noon, two days later, Sir Kay and De Lacey returned with
news that the rebels had been sighted less than an hour
journey ahead. This gave them precious little time to prepare a
defense.
Even with the memory of the death of Curthose, Stephen had taken seriously the
words of the old Meg was not necessary place in the open. there was
other means to fight, he learned from his friend Tarek al Sharif, whose
strategy was to attack without warning, run away, then attack again, as did
warlike desert tribes from whom he was descended.
Stephen had chosen to wait. If the rebels knew of his presence, then
who came to them, will reason. For the rest of the morning, had his men
terminating the deadly traps and snares which they had prepared for the
rebels in the forest.
Ropes were stretched by clearings. Flexible, stripped of all branches
leaves, had the sharp edges in lethal spears, then buried by
tracks and trails, waiting advancing attackers. The forest became
a fatal trap for the unwary. So Stephen handed spears and
positions indicated to his men, the heavy armor discarded in favor
the greater freedom of movement. All were ordered to meet
across the small forest.
All set, he left Meg and the girl with the horses on the opposite side of
forest, with instructions that if the rebels arrived so far, the two
should take two horses, dispersing the rest and escape. Then he returned to
advanced position with his men to wait for the dawn.
- Have you prepared everything well, warrior - a voice was heard from
covering the trees. - But it has less than fifty men. And
Malagraine sends nearly five hundred mercenaries and rebels against Saxons
You.
Stephen drew his sword and turned to confront the attack. but
instead of encountering a warrior to sneak through the trees and
bushes, he saw no one. Then, a figure dressed all in green and
Brown jumped from a branch above the ground before him.
- You need a lot more than fifty men. - A sword
Steel snapped in air, wielded by two strong hands in front of a face
Cute bearded. - I offer my sword to your service.
Stephen stared incredulously at the apparition that appeared to have fallen from the sky.
- Yes, much more - agreed, and raised his sword, not knowing whether to laugh
or kill the cheeky fool. - But we'll manage. Maybe I should start
with you - suggested.
- Maybe - the stranger agreed, the smile that curved her mouth
enlighten the eyes of a cobalt blue. Had the features framed by
black hair, face covered by equally dark beard. - But you
need every man who can wield a sword. Let me live,
and this amounts to fifty-one against Malagraine.
- You are either an idiot or a fool - Stephen replied. The stranger threw the
head back and laughed. Then the tip of the sword buried in soft soil. or
was very brave or very reckless, before a broadsword.
- Yeah, maybe a little of both. 'm Truan Monroe - said. - Offers
my services. You would be wise to accept them. Kill me if you prefer
- Amended to read Stephen's thoughts - but then fail you a
sword and a very good fighter.

With a quick move like lightning, who was smiling silly
prove a lie, took the sword by the hilt, pulled her off the ground
like a pen and targeted it with deadly precision, the end to
bridge inches from the throat of Stephen..
- Or you can let me fight at your side and take my chances against the army
Rebel.
Showing no outward sign of fear, Stephen asked:
- How will I know that you are not one of the rebels sent for Tregaron?
It can turn against me in battle.

Monroe shrugged.
- If I wanted you dead, english, you would have. Walking through the forest as
a boar, stumbling over roots, a throng that everyone can hear,
announcing their presence. I've had many opportunities.
- And I suppose you move silently! - Stephen replied.

Truan Monroe was ironic:
- I was in front of you before he could pull the sword.
Stephen stared at him through narrowed eyes. Learned with Rorke
Fitzwarren, the true heart of a man is revealed by the eyes.
An honest man stares directly, a coward or not concealed
can.
- Why make such an offer? - Asked.
- You know why.
Stephen was wondering if it was the man costumed jester
responded, or had some other meaning hidden in their largest
words.
- We just met. How would I know your reasons?
The smile on the face of the stranger reappeared, and Stephen was sure was
the fool who answered.
- Because we are both warriors. It is our destiny. You may not me
deny my fate.

There was something in the behavior of the man who showed the
impossibility of being an idiot. It was as if he played a dangerous game and
mortal. Was skilled with a sword and could easily have killed Stephen
before it was realized.
He heard the approach of his men. Erupted in the small clearing
with swords drawn. Monroe seemed unconcerned.
- I did the offer lightly, English - Truan reminded him. And given the
shoulders. - It's just blood. My will flow as easily as yours, if
this choice.
- Stop it! - Stephen ordered his men when they moved,
though he knew not why. Had fear of regret to add:
- This man will come to us.
- Us! - Exclaimed, surprised Kay. - With sword wielded against
You? Give the order and where he will die.
- Clear - Stephen ordered. - It was a demonstration.
- Made a puzzled expression. - If he wanted me dead, I would be.
- You can join us - told Truan. - But if you betray me, I will cut off your
head.
Truan smiled with an air of malice and bowed to the waist.
- A fair exchange, but you will forgive me if I give my best to
keep my head on straight. I like her a lot.
- Just be warned - Stephen replied to sheathe his sword. - You is not
Lands West - commented to return the forest to the camp.

- I'm from the west of the western lands, somewhere beyond the sea - Truan
replied evasively, with a deceptive smile.
- West of the West? - John Lacey growled on the other side of
Stephen. - The man is an idiot. There is west of the West, only sea
opened.
Truan flashed a sly smile.
- A fool only when need be - answered. - And there are far more
west of the western sea than land could imagine.
Then walked away to suggest to men of other traps Stephen
that could set the forest and to strengthen positions, giving the impression
that was one of them and fought at his side for years instead of being a
recent threat that needed to pass a test.
The battle took place at sundown, as Truan Monroe anticipated. while the
rest of the rebel army encircled the hills, two hundred warriors attacked camp of tents and
campfires
smoldering next to the forest only to discover that was completely
desert. Then if penetrated in the forest behind the tracks, signals
MEN hairs deliberately left Stephen to attract them. an error
it would cost them dearly.

Many died in the armed ambushes, pierced by cuttings, stuck in
traps, slaughtered by an enemy who could not see or hear until
it was too late. A new breed of warriors followed. The fight
became fierce, as far into the deeper woods.

Stephen's men fought and fled; then returning a
dozen directions and fought again. Where to draw the enemy ever
further into the forest, until it was dispersed through the woods. Then,
reach a predetermined point, Stephen ordered that the forest was
burned. The rebel army had no choice but to retreat. or
be burned alive.
Stephen and his men fled the flames to the riverside, where Meg and
Amber waited, Sir Kay and tied horses. Truan Monroe appeared
another part of the forest, with stained face and clothes full of
soot. Had proved his loyalty several times but did not wait for words
Stephen gratitude.

- Many escape the flames. And will not take up that bypass
forest and give chase. We must escape while we can.
- Escape to where? - Asked Sir Kay. - The forest

is behind us and the river in front of us. - And the night fell quickly, with
with the threat of storm, which erases the fire escape and delay in
slippery ground, he thought.

- Is there a safe place nearby - Truan told them. - I'll take them. - saw
expressions of doubt the Warriors. - Or stay and greet the rebels,
when prompted.

Stephen hesitated. Beside her, the old Meg laid her hand on his arm. as
if he knew their thoughts, said:
- Feel warrior. Should follow the path of the white wolf.
With an enemy army to the rear and unknown territory ahead
Stephen hesitated. Then, as the clouds parted for a brief
moment he saw a silvery glance at the horizon. Could be a ray,
thought. But to see the White Wolf posted the distance, in the same
direction pointed Truan Monroe, decided.
- Go ahead - Truan said, and as he spoke, hundreds of meters
and far beyond earshot, the white wolf jumped in front, as if
lead them.
The location to which the Truan took was at an elevation of land in
confluence of two rivers. The old fortress was surrounded by water on three
sides, with high stone walls facing the valley below.
It was dark and deserted, seemingly little more than a pile of rocks
with its walls collapsed on the walls below. However, in light of
Moon, who played at hiding among the clouds, the internal walls had a pale appearance
and bright, a ghostly image of the place outside, in other
times.
- I know this place - Stephen said as they entered the gate in ruins, the
patio to reveal the Roman influence in the gravel and destruction that
had devastated the site over the centuries. - I've been here.
His men scattered by the fortress, looking for a way to
set up a barricade and fortify the entrance and a dozen other places
by which one could enter easily. Stephen took a torch and went
quietly the abandoned hallways, on the trail of the white wolf, which
jumped into the ruins before them.
Spotted the wolf several times as they went, where the distance.
Now, there was no sign of the creature, as he vistoriava the fortress.
Columns, wide stone steps and stone walls and polished clear
reminiscences of forts were similar to those of the empires of the East
East, a stronger convergence of influences that architecture
Roman, with its open balconies dominated by vines and moss.
Under layers of dirt and destruction, the stones glowed, many painted
with sharp murals whose images spied the blackened plaster
smoke.
There had been a major fire there, as if someone had
tried to burn it to the ground after a sack. But the stone and
mortar were there, a silent and ghostly skeleton of what
had been before.

In size, was very imposing a castellated fortress
Built for a king and could easily protect the population of
a small town within its gates. That was before the cataclysm that fate decreed abruptly,
judging by the looks of things.

Tables were overturned, chairs carved, scrapped to
pieces. The floor of the rooms found most is covered ceramic
broken, rotten carpets reduced to mere lint and debris from
last inhabitants who had died trying to defend the place. the
skeletons were fewer than one might expect from such a
fortress. Unless the army had been called away and left
unprotected castle. So, Stephen discovered the starry chamber.

The huge double doors hung on their hardware. The torch light, to
seep through the opening, the walls glowed a pale blue. Overhead, the ceiling, the
Most miraculous intact panels made of thick clear resin
shone with the light of a thousand stars that gazed center
room.

Stephen kicked the woods broken doors and crawled inside.
Heard the noise of rats fleeing the light and the sound of the wind through the windows
smashed. So the torch lit the huge round table in the center
chamber.

Had at least five feet in diameter, the scratched surface and
excavated. Been burned in several places when the invaders tried
destroy it, in vain. But they had failed to do, the time had.

The table hung where one of the strongest legs rotted and had broken. The
surface was covered with dust and debris, but the dirt and destruction are not
could disguise the beauty of the piece or colored panels and
ornamented that had been carved into its top.
There were twelve panels across the border, each engraved with an emblem or
insignia. Inside, Latin words. Stephen bent down and lifted the torch
the air to closely examine each panel. Tell a story
of bravery, courage and sacrifice of a noble caste cavalry
committed to a common cause.

- Twelve panels, twelve badges, twelve knights ... Exactly the same
he had seen before.
By running his fingers through symbols and emblems carved, a light
flickered a darker corner of the room.
- Who's there? - Stephen asked, when extending the torch forward, the sword
before them in the other hand. - Identify yourself. Otherwise, you will die.
There was no answer.

From the shadows, behind a column, the young man was watching the Knight,
hand holding the neck rough coat Fallon, white wolf,
communicating to him the thoughts through touch, to hold it back.
The warrior was tall and his shadow stretched out to touch hers, where
hidden in the darkness. Around his neck he wore a leather strap and
the rune stone she lost the night she met him on the side of
outside the court of the king.

He remembered the touch of his hand on the pulse, and strong, yet gentle, and his
fearlessness when that contact the boost through the portal of light,
along with it. And as before, experienced a mixture of fascination and
terrible uncertainty. She wanted to run at the same time realize that it was
impossible to escape.
- Who's there? - Stephen asked again, circling the table and
getting closer.
Terrified of being discovered, Cassandra retreated into the shadows behind the
column. With the movement, his robe far-failed around the ankles, and
the silver threads of pale blue fabric reflected the torchlight.
Cassandra was sure that the rider turns. However he could not
away, as if drawn to this man who, for a fatality, had
a journey through time to that same place and was now on
it again.
Would clear day in a few hours. News of the disaster in the forest is
would spread rapidly to Tregaron. When saving a man, betrayed another,
someone who was like a brother to her.
He felt the movement before the silent warning Fallon to warn that
his hiding place was discovered. The torchlight away the shadows,
illuminating it briefly. In the expression of the warrior, she saw the
recognition.
As before, Cassandra felt he had a bond with that man, when he reached out and touched her.
He turned and fled through the portal of light, with Fallon, leaving the warrior
think that was the victim of an illusion.
Stephen walked around the large room with the sword wielded the torch
erected to illuminate the shadows. His search brought back the enormous
round table in the center. Surrounded her again, slowly. The words
Latin, translated, spoke of honor, duty, loyalty, trust, bravery,
written hundreds of years before, in another time. A code of rules
lines formed a solemn commitment.

Managed, with difficulty, to decipher the first few words of the text,
but the meaning seemed to shake the air as the other voices repeat.
Twelve voices who had committed their swords, blood and sacred honor
a king, was over five hundred years. Stephen knew the place.
-Was lost in myth and legend for so long that most doubted
that had ever existed. Camelot, the ancient kingdom of legendary King
Arthur and his brave and loyal knights of the Round Table.

He heard the snap of wood. The light from the second torch appeared in
busted door sill and spread across the floor of the room. Truan
Monroe away debris and crawled inside.
He raised the torch above his head. The light fell on the table with his
ancient carvings and the twelve locations equally distributed around.
- "To my sorority, pledge my sword, my blood and my
sacred honor ... "

His expression was intense to repeat the old oath, within that
room, magnificent past, the legendary king.
- Do you know these words? - Stephen asked, watching the young
warrior who had joined them only recently.
The jester, who wore a sword with the best of the ability
Warriors, made no comment comic or a smile
kind, but it was "replaced" by someone who did not know Stephen.
- Yes, I know - Truan replied, his voice low as if lost in
memories. Was serious, the air of laughter outside the beautiful face and eyes
provocative.

- "... Beyond this life, beyond death, until the final journey to my soul
into the light ... "
The words seemed to echo in the soot-blackened walls, the ceiling
starry dome shaped, and sigh at the stone floor, as some
old litany that crossed the centuries. Like men who
had pronounced that oath murmur the tomb, a
reminder.
Then the spell broke when several men also Stephen
met the camera and entered by the stop burst.
- We left the stronghold and await your orders - Sir Kay
announced, intonation of voice usually become high and low
reverent, when his gaze moved, intrigued, unusual room
Round ceiling adorned with your stars.
Gavin and John Lacey were equally amazed to examine the site. of
Lacey found an ancient sword, fallen from the hand of a warrior
wielded, and now, by time, into a powder.
Gavin had heard stories of the legendary Round Table and frowned,
Awe, on the ruins of the table that was there, as if waiting for
Warriors take their places again.

- What will you do? - Asked Truan, spiked look in Stephen. -
Now that twisted the lion's tail.
Stephen felt that his men were examining the same question in
their expressions.
- There is a gap background with enough water - Gavin explained. - And now that
know how we are fighting against, and then we can rest
back to England.

- The king will support us once you know the size of the enemy army and
the Saxons joined him - Sir Kay amended.
It was clear that they felt that they should retire to England
in the face of the numerical gap. It was the logical thing to do. But Tregaron and
Welsh prince he served had no way of knowing the true strength
that will face them.

Stephen turned to De Lacey, whom he trusted as a brother. it
also was a bastard and understand what motivated Stephen to challenge
the father and head to the lands of the West.

- You have not talked yet. What do you say?
John stared at him in stunned expression. Although their friendship was deep,
Stephen had always taken their own decisions. In his veins ran the
royal blood of Normandy. Did not need the advice of anyone. same
so, as if to ask the opinion of each of its
Knights.
- We have come too far to avenge the deaths of our comrades - From
Lacey said. - Malagraine is still alive. Do not do what we came
do.

- We are only fifty - Stephen pondered. He knew what he thought each
one of his men. - Even with the losses in forest Frodmir, they
outnumber us at least eight to one. We are in a foreign land,
where no one will help us.

- They do not know how many we are - insisted De Lacey. - We may be
fifty or five hundred. And we have these walls to protect us.
- Yes - Stephen murmured thoughtfully - have these walls. -
Walls that had survived a terrible battle that penetrated; and
however, remained standing was five hundred years. However it was not
a decision he could take by all.

His other riders had come and gathered there. Among them was
Meg and next to the old, the girl, Amber. Few in number. Twelve,
same number of loyal men who had served the former king to death.
- Every man should feel free to take the decision itself - Stephen
told them. - I can not take it for

you guys. But as for me - turned to the table where they were
engraved the words loyalty and honor, and put his sword on top of
so that the blade pointing toward the center - and to avenge those who stay here
died. It was as if they took part of some ancient ritual, that
secular room, full of dust, debris and cobwebs. Lacey was
first to put the sword on the table. Then, one by one, the other
Knights also came forward and put their swords exactly
same way until eleven guns surrounded the top.

- What about him? - Gavin asked, looking at Truan Monroe. - Where
his loyalty lies, strange?
- It's written in the stars - Truan replied, puzzle-cally, with a
gesture pointing the domed ceiling.
- A response from a foolish idiot. How do we know that will not betray us?
Aware that the girl, Amber, moulting, watched intently by
behind the old, Truan smiled, his teeth against the sparkle dark beard.

- If I wanted to betray him, his blood soaked land in forest
Brodmir. - He took the sword and placed it on the last vacant seat at the table, the
blade to glow with the light of the torches. - I'll - said. Then his smile
widened and resurfaced foolish expression. - I want to see how fifty
men who wish to defeat Malagraine.

- Fifty-one - Stephen reminded him, the steady gaze on the young man,
a glance, seemed to turn a jerk into a warrior
shrewd.

- Yes - Truan said, with a laugh - fifty-one. - So
took his sword and stuck it in the sheath. With a broad smile, approached
Meg - not full both tests, old witch. Will get more wrinkles.
Meg snorted indignantly, but his expression was thoughtful around the face in
toward the boy, despite blindness.
- Who are you?
- Only a fool with some skill with a sword.

- Fool too, I believe - she said with a puzzled air.
Truan then turned to Amber. Faster than the eye could
see, too quickly for her to back off and sensed
shyness as you normally would, his hand stretched out. With the dexterity of
a warrior, and waved from behind the ear of the young man, pulled out a small
white flower.

The delicate lips of Amber, where words would not come, formed a
"Oh" an astonishment, and a strangled sound escaped with his breath contained
when she stared instinctive pleasure.
- Come - Truan said Amber, without touching it, but making a gesture to
she passed. - It's a simple trick. I'll show you how it's done.
Then I will teach you how to make things disappear.
Amber came out with the room. When they were no longer within the reach of
ear, De Lacey commented dryly:
- Just as easily as gone when we are betraying.
- If I wanted to betray us, it would have done in the forest. In
Instead, killed many rebels fought alongside us and prevented over
a sword wrenched his head from his shoulders. I see no more reason
to doubt his loyalty than to doubt her.

- Stephen swung around
for the Round Table, surrounded by the rest of his knights. - This
will be our fortress. Here we will establish our citadel of resistance.
- And as he spoke, he felt the cold, still air of the room shudder,
as if someone invisible to hear.
A thin band of light flashed in the corner of the room, Tregaron. If expanded,
becoming brighter until it opened, and Cassandra crossed
opening, followed by White Wolf.

A quick look around gave him the assurance that the room was as
left when he left, there were hours. But before he could light the
brazier, he heard a light knock on the door.
Lodi, she thought, with the certainty that used to have as a child. not
bars had to close its doors in Tregaron, except in the Room
Margeaux.
His foster sister insisted on having privacy, but did not think
not found it necessary to apologize for invading the privacy of others,
any time of day or night.
Only Lodi, the poor girl whose misfortune was to be the maid of Margeaux,
knocked before entering. But anyone who tried to run the bolt would have the
way barred as if locked, even Margeaux. with
a gesture, Cassandra broke the spell that barred the door.
- Come in, Lodi - spoke softly.
The door opened it up, and Lodi shy face appeared in the open crack.
Seemed relieved.
- Thank God you're here at last, ma'am - the girl murmured,
pushing the door a few inches.
- What is it? What happened? - Cassandra asked, only a
mental order, to light the brazier behind him. The flames came alive and
the framed, as she turned to the girl.
Lodi was an absolutely sincere creature. Looked at the flames that do not
were there a moment before and now burning, shining, but said
nothing.

- The nobles are to reach Tregaron - said, distressed. - Are expected
at any time, and the employer is in a terrible mood.
- Please, come on and tell me everything - Cassie said softly, already
suspecting what would. The girl me Neou head.
- The mistress called for Mistress - Lodi muttered, and, in the shadows,
Cassandra saw the girl bit her lip. - Nothing pleases him when
in this mood. Maybe, if you see it ... - The maid was on the verge of
tears.
Cassandra crossed the room and opened the door. Candlelight and brazier
focused on the features of the girl, who retreated to the shade.
The left cheek was swollen from Lodi a purplish bruise
skirted her eye almost closed. There was no need to ask anything.

- Margeaux ... - Cassie muttered angrily.
- Please, ma'am - Lodi pleaded. - Do not say anything. With her so bad-tempered,
would only make things worse. If you could go see her now ... Please ...
Cassandra knew it was true. Margeaux had a temper
unpredictable, usually directed to the servants. But no one was immune to
his anger.
- Where is she?
- In his quarters. - E Lodi amended: - The prince comes Malagraine
too. He said he sent a missal of peace for the king's army
Guilherme.
- Missal? - Cassandra said. - I mean emissary?
- That's right. Emissary.
Cassie frowned therefore not sensed anything when she left that
morning. However, if the prince Malagraine traveled to Tregaron, that the
less explained the tantrum of Margeaux.
- Okay, Lodi - murmured thoughtfully. - I'll see what can be done.
- Want me to go along? - The girl's voice, tremulous and low, Cassie

heard the fear and reluctance.
- If you need, send for her - Cassie replied, laying his hand on
shoulder created.
- Thank you, ma'am - Lodi said, gratefully.
- Go now and see if finds out what you can about visitors and bring me
news. There is much that needs to be done before they arrive.

Lodi moved off to do what she had asked, glad to escape the
Margeaux room.
- What you looking at? - Cassie asked Fallon, who was staring at
his eyes wise, insightful. - Yes, I know - he murmured, as if the wolf
'd said something. - A visit to her room is like jumping from the
cauldron into the fire, but if I do not, she can put down with Tregaron
their cries. And there are things I could learn about these visit
noble - amended, thoughtful. - I should have felt.
The wolf rolled onto his back and made no mention of following it.

- Stay if you want. I'm not afraid of it. The barks are worse Margeaux
that their bites. - Shorty murmured: - I hope.
Margeaux's quarters were in another part of the fortress of Tregaron,
occupied by those who bore the title of Lady of domains. era
a title she claimed for himself by right of blood, not by
marriage, as was the sister of Lord John, who is not yet married, although
was father of several children of unhappy created and girls of the village.
- Do not come here with that animal! - Margeaux snapped when
Cassandra appeared in the doorway. Fallon stood at the entrance, rolled
eyes and then laid his head on paws, and pretended to sleep. - The whole place
is infested with parasites, and you bring this beast here. We can all get
plague victims.
- Did you see me? - Cassie asked, picking up a vague uneasiness in
room. It seemed darker than usual, as if the light of candles and
Brazier fought to shine. It was as if a veil of darkness covering
everything in the room. Then disappeared.

- I called for you hours ago. Where were you? The nobles must reach this
overnight. They say the prince Malagraine come with them. There is much to be
taken and I can not find it when I need your help.
Help? Cassandra almost laughed out loud because it was notorious that while Margeaux
demanded for himself the title of Lady of Tregaron, with all
responsibilities which it represented, was Cassandra who ran
every detail of the day-to-day running of the house.
- Everything is in order - she assured Margeaux, to cover with thought the farthest corners of
Tregaron, from kitchens to stables, to ensure.
The fields were managed efficiently. Cassie arranged that
responsibility was passed to him by the death of the second wife of Lord
John, for although Margeaux was rightfully Lady of land to the
Wedding of John, showed no interest in such responsibilities.
He was too preoccupied with its own ambitious plans,
Cassie was watching while Margeaux sat on the panel
polished steel, lost in her own thoughts to palm her breasts
small through the fluffy sweater.
Margeaux inherited the father's handsome features, his hair a dark brown
and cold green eyes. Also inherited his ambition and ruthlessness, and the
bitter disappointment of not being born male. But what fate
denied him, Margeaux wanted to grab for itself.
Persuaded his brother to rule out marriage proposals of lesser nobles,
in favor of the title of princess, he coveted. Mattered little if the prince
Malagraine already had a wife.
- She is very ill and will not live - Margeaux said, unconcerned. - O
Prince has expressed his desire to have many children. You will not find anything
not be infertile among those thighs pathetic discolored soil. at the moment
right, find rich and fruitful land where his roots and seed will
grow stronger.
The princess lived more than most expected. Had given birth to a daughter
survived a short time. Then, weakened by childbirth and a series
of unknown diseases, died the previous year. Margeaux off
Pendragon with John Lord and other noble. After coming back, ran
rumors that the prince had already taken another Malagraine for your bed.

John Tregaron was neither a warrior nor a politician. He had no
dexterity required for the first of the functions required or cold ambition
to the other. Was of average intelligence and boasted the features gaunt
his mother, the straight black hair and pale blue eyes. But a trace
linked the brothers: a cruel harshness.
Not always been so. His mother died when they were very young, and the
lord of Tregaron had taken a second wife, much younger. Anne
Aberswyth was sweet and kind and became the mother of two children after
wedding. But longed for a child of her own.
Unable to conceive, out for help who lived in the Old Forest.
Out there he established a deep bond with the child and sensitive
introspective that created healer since childhood: Cassandra.
Cassie had gone to live with Elora as a baby. Own family, knew very
bit. Was haunted by dreams that Elora tried to explain. Told him
parents loved her very much, but had needed to send her away.
All I understood was Cassie loneliness imposed on it. And when
it was time to return to his own family, had refused angrily.
- The Lady and Fallon are my family - said the old. - I do not need
anyone else.
The Old had been unable to force her to return, because even with such a young age, the
Cassandra powers were much higher than yours.
Finally, the Old Lady Anne convinced to let Cassandra were living in Tregaron.

Cassie was six years old then. Elora had taken,
into the forest, as on other occasions, to gather herbs and plants
only grew in secret places.
- It's time to get out into the world - explained. And warned: - You
need to be careful who to trust. Not everyone will understand your
powers. Some will try to use them for their own gain. Need to safeguard
against these people because they do not understand such things. Only his
Blood understand the gifts with which you were born. his true
family.
The same family that had abandoned.
Then Elora explained that everything was arranged that the girl was
to Tregaron, where Lady Anne would help her learn things necessary
to live in the known world. He had talked a lot that day, the time before the
Cataclysm and the last days of the old kingdom. Kings, knights, wizards and
delighted. A magical world of light that had been dipped in a vacuum
evil and darkness, five hundred years before.
Returned to the hut in the forest when the sun went down. Elora was based
heavily on Cassandra to arrive, and sat in the chair beside
the open door, with the last rays of sun bathe her wrinkled face.
The girl knelt beside the chair. In that soft voice that seemed to come
from afar, as if she did not find there, as if he had gone back in
last moment to say something that Cassandra needed to know, Elora
murmured:

- You've been a blessed gift, entrusted to my care. always
be with you, my girl. But do not shun the Power of Light Need
fulfill his destiny. It's in your blood and becomes more powerful every
passing day. Protect the knowledge and powers and not keep anger
his heart. Anger is the weapon of Darkness. Will be used against you if
allow.
Then gave a gift to Cassandra, who always wore a necklace made of
polished stones, each engraved with a strange figure.
Cassandra refused to take the necklace, while tears filled her the
eyes. But Elora smiled.

- This is his legacy, my girl. He who was born to fulfill. for
Who has the power to read them, the runes tell the future. - Had put the collar on
Girl helping hand and you doubled your fingers around the stones.
Closed his eyes as if to rest, just as Cassandra
had seen hundreds of times. However, this time, not awakened when
the girl called. And nothing she did had succeeded in arousing his beloved
guardian.

Since that day, the Old languished gradually until the end. And then when
Cassandra kissed the wrinkled face, had the impression that played only
air, a gentle hint of warmth that bathed her and comforted her as a
caress. Elora was gone. His presence, however, remained everywhere.
The next morning, Cassandra rolled up the few belongings, including
necklace runes, a piece of cloth and waited for the lady of Tregaron.
When she arrived, the girl explained that Elora had gone to the forest, refusing to think
the guardian as dead.

Life in Tregaron, not shown unpleasant. Anne was gentle and
delicate nature, and spent many hours teaching her about the world
Known as Elora called him. Although Margeaux and John were some
years older and had studied much, Cassandra exceeded in
capacity. He had a natural gift for languages, mathematics and science. in
Soon, he had read all the books in Tregaron. Often took a volume and
took refuge in the hut of the forest to read in peace.

There were rumors that the healer was still living in the forest. Actually
when sick and injured sought the healing potions from the Old,
Cassandra could not send them away. Had in mind, however,
notice of Elora. No one should know of his powers. Therefore assumed the
appearance of old, using the gift of transformation discovered when
was very small.

One day I arrived late to Tregaron and found the entire house in tears.
Lady Anne was seriously ill. Weeks before, the lady
Tregaron finally announced that conceived the cherished son. however
been ill since the beginning. That morning started bleeding.
Cassandra tried to go into the forest looking for a healing herb
could stop the bleeding, but Margeaux, eight years older and
temporary position of lady of the house, had forbidden. Cassandra managed
escape the watchful eye of Margeaux before the day dawned. had been
little time off, but when he returned, realized it was too late.
Lady Anne and the unborn child were dead.

She had never experienced the loss of someone he loved. not
considered the transformation of Elora of the physical world to the spiritual
Similarly, for he felt the presence of the Old constantly. The death of
Lady Anne was different, something for which she was unprepared.
After the loss of his young wife, Lord John was retreated more and more,
abandoning the duties of Tregaron, leaving them to his son, still poorly
prepared to assume such responsibility. The costs of home
befell Margeaux, then eighteen, who had taken them,
desirous of power that gave him.

Not long after, Lord John had died due to an injury
infected hunt, and had not received proper care. His son,
then twenty years old, had become Lord Tregaron, and twenty-three,
Margeaux was mistress of Tregaron.
Life had changed little for Cassandra. Eight years younger than her sister
foster, drew little attention, except for the ability to drive
efficiently the huge property, a talent that had not even Margeaux
wanted to acquire.

- See, I have these horrible blisters - Margeaux moaned. - I swear
that stupid girl gave me the wrong proportions!
Cassandra looked at the table and saw the sprawling content among the broken crockery. At a
glance, felt out exactly mixed according to the instructions that he had put
in the bag and had to Lodi in hut forest.

Hid a smile at the rash spreading rapidly through
Margeaux neck, giving her a gust appearance of a sow
had wallow in mud. But I could not help take the blame for Lodi
that.
- Mixed yourself?
- Of course! - Shouted Margeaux. - Do not think I would trust to that idiot
that measured things right.
- Two parts of blue powder to one part lavender? - Cassandra took the
instructions from the ground, written exactly as told Lodi. But as
spoke, the letters disappeared, revealing the true mixture underneath. It was a
little trick, harmless. But that might give a lesson Margeaux
that much needed.



- Of course not! - She exclaimed. - A blue part to two parts
lavender. I followed the instructions exactly. - Margeaux snatched the
piece of parchment hand. Read what was written and paled.
- Oh, dear - Cassie murmured. - It seems that did not read right ...
The parchment fell from Margeaux fingers tensed as she turned and
ran to the mirror plate steel. The reflection was not perfect, but
showed enough. She raised her fists and let out a yell
dreadful, frightening Fallon.
- What will I do? - Whined, scratching furiously, while the bubbles spread.
- Tonight needs to be perfect.
Everything is ready. Planned every detail.
Cassandra captured what was not vocalized as clearly as if
Margeaux had said it all, and the reason for nervousness size. concerned
the arrival of the nobles, particularly Malagraine in Tregaron.
- Try not to scratch - muttered.
The nobles and Prince Malagraine not come unless the next day,
for relief Margeaux. Until then, the bubbles were gone, though still
scratch.
Everything was ready. Out cooked a lavish feast. Margeaux
appeared at the last moment, taking the place of the lady in Tregaron
beside his brother. She was pale, but without any outward sign of itch
the miserable.

Cassandra understood the ambition Margeaux. It was no secret.
But could not understand how he could offer such
openly to Prince Malagraine.
He was not a man of unpleasant appearance but powerfully built
and powerful and carried himself as a warrior. Neither was old like the others
lords who had asked for the hand of Margeaux, eyeing the rich dowry that John
give him.

There was, however, a coldness about him that suggested a cruel nature. The expression
was largely closed and unreadable. The thoughts,
unlike the other nobles, were not easily captured by
Cassandra. However, at times, when the prince felt that
nobody watched, she saw the cunning to shine in that look.

And, more than once, to talk with Margeaux, in a low voice
like a lover, Cassandra felt him watching her through the
hall.
In those moments, the expression of Malagraine was evident, obvious,
predatory, dangerous. She winced, as glimpsed something he'd never seen
before. An evil so great and so pervasive that closed as a
fist around his heart, a grip so strong that Cassandra thought
hard to breathe.
Fallon also seemed to feel, walking around the room restlessly. been reluctant to
let her in and then followed with a fierce protector air, by
first time, the left scared of the white wolf could do if
provoked.
Cassandra departed from the hall and attracting the inner power, with a simple
step followed the path through a prism of light and, in a flash,
emerged in the small hut in the forest. Fallon jumped the gate behind her.
Cassandra did not light nor fire nor candle, but opened the door. The sky was
littered with stars and full moon rose beyond the treetops. she
sat in the chair and wrapped the shawl Elora Old shoulders, as if
attempted to engage in his sweet presence.

- I do not understand what is happening - muttered. - I feel a
powerful presence. Talk to me. Tell me what to do.
There was no response or connection of thoughts or comfort to you
calm the fears and uncertainty. Not even the wind was rustling the leaves
trees. No woodland creature emit any sound night. It was as if everything
waited in mute silence.
Cassandra had no idea how long she sat there. Finally, felt
Fallon's muzzle in his hand. The moon was not high in the sky, but
down, peering through the lower branches of trees.
- Yes - she murmured, in response to the wolf. - It's late.
Not returned by the portal of light, but chose to walk in darkness
soothing, earthy, fragrant, forest. He closed the door of the hut and
ran the bolt, and then followed for family trail that traversed many
times as a child, to the side of Elora.
You need to fulfill your destiny.
Heard the message so clearly that it was as if you had
spoken. But as he turned to see who had said, he saw no one.







Chapter III


The halls were quiet when Tregaron Cassandra returned with
Fallon, except the servants who cleaned the remains of the banquet tables.
- Master John was late to the room - the Lodi said wearily. He smiled. -
But it did not bother any of the girls. The other nobles spread
the bedrooms upstairs.
- And Lady Margeaux? - Cassandra asked.
- Was collected earlier. Said I should send the lady to see her,
but it makes hours.
Cassie frowned. In the past two nights, had prepared a sedative to
Margeaux sleep because she could not sleep with all the itching
the youth potion that spread throughout the body. However seemed well
best that day. Even so, if it failed to prepare the dose,
remedy would be boring Margeaux.
Fallon climbed the long spiral staircase in front of the lady. Cassandra
passed through several rooms where the nobles slept, the servants scattered in the hallway,
outside the gates, where be required during the night. Also passing by the room itself,
confident that no one entered there.

The torches burned, in the end, other smoked in the darkness. she followed
easily through the shadows, as the sharp vision like an animal.
Fallon jumped ahead, but as they approached the Margeaux room, the
Wolf fell suddenly.
His eyes glowed intensely, head to tilt from side to
other. Then his mouth tugged on strong teeth and let out a growl.
Cassandra saw the guard outside the door. Instinctively, she pulled
Fallon back into the shadows, and, with the thought, asked to stay
quiet. When Cassandra hit the man did not appear to see it.
There was a mumbled order inside the room, and the guard pushed
the door. The light of the torch he carried focused on the bed and the two
people lying.
Margeaux was sprawled, loose dark hair braiding and
spread range. Was completely naked, pale body
shine on blankets of fur, legs apart. Malagraine was
foot, hand, staring at the door. Made a gesture of command, without
worry that somebody saw a moment of intimacy with Margeaux.
- Send him away! - She said in a husky tone, pulling Malagraine the
nails scratch meat where the tunic had opened, exposing the reddish markings on the chest
muscular.
The bonds of
Malagraine pants hung loose, and member, erect, throbbing free.
With a smile, Margeaux arched backward, linking the Malagraine
waist, legs, while emitting eager moans, pleading for
him to take. There was no trace of delicacy when Prince
possessed. She gave a cry of pain and pleasure, a sound that did not seem
human but an animal in heat. The movements of both become
frantic, and moans, guttural, hoarse, anxious. So where is
bent over the bed, looked up Malagraine.
Looked beyond the guard, open the door, as though he had sight
Cassandra hidden in the shadows, unable to get away because it would be seen,
unable to look away. And an evil pleasure arose in the expression of
Prince while still owning Margeaux like an animal. but it was
as if ignorant, smile only directed to Cassandra. Then, with
eyes still fixed at that point of the corridor, deeper and invested in
Suddenly he stiffened. Margeaux yelped, his body shaken by
spasms of pleasure.
Malagraine turned and told the guard to enter. With the body
welded to block the view of the room, Cassandra fled the hall to the
own quarters. Seen anything in the eyes of the prince who had left her terrified.
Upon arriving at his own room, slammed the door. Around the portal, a faint
band of light shone - the protective charm beyond which no mortal could pass.

Then she heard footsteps in
corridor and also realized that someone stopped outside the door. And
I knew it was Malagraine.
The band of light trembled and became weaker and then heard Cassandra
the sound of a tap on the bolt. The hairs on the back of Fallon stood up
as he stood between the owner and the door, his mouth grinning about
sharp teeth.
Cassandra stopped breathing. He felt what felt mortal, but
energy intensity experienced a wild and turbulent, different
anything that already had experienced before, and every atom of your being reacted
violently to a danger which had never met in life.
Then the feeling passed. The intense energy slowly extinguished. Fallon
also felt that the danger had disappeared. Cocked his ears back
and forth, as if seeking to capture any sound. There was only silence
the other side of the door. Malagraine gone.
The next day, Cassandra kept away as much as possible the
Great Hall, where the nobles and Malagraine gathered with John
Tregaron. Margeaux, on the contrary, was constantly beside the
Prince, with a feverish gleam in his eye, staring at him with lust and greed.
Shortly after noon, the news came that the king's knights
English would come to Tregaron at nightfall, to discuss peace terms.
After the defeat in the forest, had sent an emissary to soldiers
Of William to propose a meeting. Still, Cassandra felt
restless.
John, Prince Malagraine and nobles showed a state of mind
unusual. The losses in the forest of Brodmir were not mentioned as
if they did not care. And above all, there was a tension of expectation
so impenetrable and diffuse the mischief of Darkness as it had referred to Elora,
with dread.
Then came the announcement that the knights of King William had
arrived. The gates were opened Tregaron. Only a few guards
remained on top of the walls, usually less than John
designated to protect the fortress. Half a dozen bodyguards
were in the hall. Something was wrong.
A great feast was served. As guest of honor, Prince
Malagraine sat at the big table near the fireplace center. Margeaux
took her place beside him. John as host and master of Tregaron,
sat on the other side.
Cassandra would have preferred watching from the shadows, but John insisted that
join them and sit beside her. The request surprised. was
Then he saw the expression on the face of Malagraine. A slow smile curvoulhe
mouth as he bent to hear something Margeaux murmured. but
his gaze was locked on Cassandra.
The tension permeated the air when the knights of the English king entered the hall
principal, each with several warriors. They wore colors or emblems.
Neither carried placards.
They wore dark robes over tights and wore boots. Quotas
mesh glittered under the robes. The steel blades of swords reflected the
lights of dozens of torches.
Cassandra searched among them the warrior who find that corridor
Dark in London. After the second meeting, days before, in the old
fortress, knew was he who led the men.
One of the warriors stepped forward. As one she found, was tall and
broad-shouldered. A hand rested on the hilt of the sword. The edge of the
hood of the cloak was pulled over his face, preventing him Cassandra
saw the features.
She frowned thoughtfully. He felt none of the powerful emotions and
passionate that had invaded the previous encounters. more
disturbing, however, was still realize that, try as I might expand
your senses to capture some essence of the man, could not
feel anything. This was very unusual, because as Elora, Old, had taught,
mortals were easily accessible to her through their gifts
Special intellect and intuition.

- They brought swords into battle Tregaron - John noted,
an air to upset you with the shirring gray features. - These were not the
agreed terms.
Along the walls and corners, men of John stepped to
forward, hands on their swords and spears.
- As you have already made it clear - the leader of the
Men of King William replied, his head hooded pointing to the
row of warriors advancing shadows.
John's lips curled with an expression of disgust. beside
him, Margeaux straightened, with a renewed interest, his attention
attracted away from Malagraine. The prince leaned back in his chair, looking
Spiked hooded warrior. He said nothing, but raised his hand
chair arm, a gesture that immediately stopped the response of John
Cassandra felt the anger of the foster brother. For the first time, she realized
who really ruled Tregaron. It was not even John Margeaux,
whose ambitions craved far more than those stone walls and
see green fields.

A cold feeling fear wrapped it, with the portent of a future
Gloomy lying ahead because Prince Malagraine already shown their
authority in a simple gesture to silence the protest of John
- A misconception - Malagraine explained, as if it were mere triviality. -
Are dangerous times. Many died. We must caution. - To a
sign order, the men of John retreated to the shadows.
Cassandra was not fooled and he suspected that the warrior posted
before them is not deluded too. Although they relaxed hands on
weapons and retreated, the soldiers continued readiness. And she now felt
various others, not noticed between them. Surprised, for they were neither
Warriors of the prince or of John.
Could not see them, but they felt the presence, the fierce emotions,
dangerous thoughts. Fidgeted. At his feet, saw the disturbance
Fallon, too.
Stephen watched the shadows, hidden among the peasants of
Tregaron, with the rest of his men, dress like them, hidden weapons
under the simple costumes.
His gaze swept the room, mentally counting the enemy. had used
concealment to get in Tregaron. And need to use cunning to
leave because he was not sure, now, the outcome of those negotiations.
He and his men had accepted the invitation of Tregaron, but were not
fools. After narrowly escaping a trap, he suspected
another. So put another leader and a handful of his warriors
the hall.
Truan Monroe insisted present as the commander, although the
danger was great. Were surrounded by warriors of Tregaron without
no way out unless Stephen and the rest of their
men means they could escape. Despite the odds
survive are against them, Monroe insisted.
- They will not kill me - declared with an unbelievable confidence in
face of difficulties.
- You are unwise, my friend - Stephen told him. - It will be very
dangerous.
- The world is dangerous - Monroe had replied. - If we hide the
danger, he will surely find us.
Now, there he was standing in the center of the hall, with a handful of men,
surrounded by warriors of Tregaron.
Then Stephen saw the young man who sat at the right hand of John of Tregaron,
the long table, the same young woman he met outside the court
Royal London and, again, days before, in the old fortress. Cassandra
Tregaron.
It was as beautiful as he remembered ... As beautiful as woven silk picture
the tapestry. Who, however, it served?

She sat next to John Tregaron motionless face expressionless to.
Unless my eyes. Shone like the sun-drenched violets, a
whirlwind of countless emotions. His face was pale in the light of changing
torches. The hair, the color of black satin running down over one shoulder and
tumbled to her waist. She would get up, but Tregaron prevented. But at the
observe it, Stephen saw what few could see when she got rid of
Tregaron grip as easily as they cleaned a pinch of dust
skirt.
Saw the embarrassment of Tregaron, and then the dangerous anger that flashed in
his cruel eyes.
- These are the terms by which you and your men can live -
John Tregaron repeated, representing his role as the mighty lord
air conditions. But Stephen knew whence real power: the
Prince Malagraine. - Yield their horses and weapons - Tregaron
Monroe continued to demand. - Your king will pay compensation for lives
lost in the lands of the West. Also, pay a ransom for the lives of
their riders. If you do not, then the warriors die. - These -
exclaimed, with an empty smile of any mood-are our terms!
Cassandra was stunned. Those should be for peace talks
end the slaughter, after the brutal deaths of the first warriors
sent by the English king and the recent attack on forest Brodmir.
Those words were an insult. Your brother must have been crazy. Then his
gaze met Malagraine, and Cassandra saw the dark evil that
sparkled in his eyes. The previous night had seen the true nature
that man in the way he had watched, trapped in the shadows
the hall, while he and Margeaux had relations. And realized that
Prince had no intention of negotiating peace.
It was all a lie. And watching him, realized there was much more. it
wanted to deliberately provoke a confrontation. Had to be prevented,
before more men die. Cassandra got up from the chair.
John put his hand on her arm, pulling her down.

- Want to betray me again, sister? - Whispered with spiteful voice. -
Warning them, as did the forest Brodmir? Forgot to whom
are dealing.
She stared at him incredulously. It was not possible that John knew she warned
the English because he ignored his powers. However, in some way, John
learned. Then he realized that someone else was watching: Malagraine. And
those black eyes sparkled, intense.
Cassandra sat back down in his chair. Could not allow it
happen. Whatever plans Malagraine, swore that
prevent. Concentrated
in his power. Then, as he looked at John, delivered with ease of fingers
you pressed the wrist like an insect from straying. Would not allow him
acted well.
- You do not know what you're dealing brother - warned. - Take care.
But John no longer listening.
- What do you say? - He asked the warrior.
- I'm not a knight of the English king - warrior assured and
approached by several steps. He removed the knobs and pushed the hood
behind.
Cassandra looked at him with surprise. It was found that the warrior in court
King William or the ruins of the castle, the second time. It was a
complete stranger. Could not capture his thoughts as he felt the
the other, but still had the feeling that I should meet him.
The features were difficult to discern behind the black beard that covered his
face. But there was no disguising the strength of the angle of the jaw, the mouth
sexy curved in a smile of malice and eyes the color of cobalt, which
gleamed with cunning.

- I owe obedience to no man.
- However leads Warriors King William.
- Do not I lead them. Fight with them. There is a difference.
- Has our terms - John reminded him, the hand closed fist over
tabletop, as if his patience ran out.
- Well, there is a problem - the warrior replied, in a mildly.

- We cannot give our horses - said with a laugh
smooth. - How else would leave the lands of the West? And keep
our weapons too, because there are dangerous Saxon rebels there. its
smile widened.
- I'm sure a person of your position is well aware of that. And
would not want to leave these helpless men, because they could
come under attack from some unseen enemy.
Interest Cassie sharpened before the subtle wordplay. that does not
was the fool who pretended to be gay, because he knew exactly what John wanted
do. Neither he and the other men had just entered
Tregaron, Cassandra felt, with the presumption that they would be greeted with
warm promises of peace.
Who was he? Why seemed to lead men when she knew it was
a scam? What was it about him that seemed somewhat familiar form,
while he was sure that did not know?
- King William would not see such things with good eyes and could judge
necessary to send his entire army to the lands of the West - the warrior
pondered. Then he shrugged, amused, as if negotiate
horses and simply bargained the price. - The indemnity
I'm afraid there is none.
So, Cassie noticed the subtle change in the warrior voice. And it was not
any part that he was representing.
- Now, you will hear our terms.

John's eyebrows joined at an acute angle before something that
he had not anticipated. Malagraine not outwardly show any
surprise, except to strengthen those dark and watchful eyes.
- If your men surrender their weapons, you will be allowed to live
- Said the warrior.
John stared at him incredulously. Then laughed.
- You barely has a score of warriors. I do not think that is in
position to make such demands when they are so few.
-Appearances can be deceptive-Monroe replied, his mouth curving
in the corners, a charming and at the same time bold and predatory smile.
Though he could not capture your thoughts, Cassandra felt the
danger proceeding from that man.
Like a fool, John laughed again.


- Now, you and your men would not give either to the beginning.
The warrior laughed. And his voice became icy as death, a
transformation so sudden and terrifying Cassie shuddered.
- His men made the same mistake in the forest of Brodmir - he
John recalled the
Cassandra saw movement in the shadows where men are posted
adoptive brother lined up against the wall. In a flash, a dozen
them slumped forward. Then he saw the warrior who passed
on the nearest guard, who had fallen dead, while that at least two other scores of
warriors suddenly appeared among men of John.

The hood peasant costume he wore was pushed back, the
brownish hair and skin sable to glow in the torchlight, when
he raised his sword. The look he found Cassandra was like amber
melted. A fierce expression hardened the beautiful features. Their
thoughts were so clear and dangerous as the first time
both had met.
John jumped from his chair, knocking it back. Amid the chaos, Cassandra
heard the screams and saw Margeaux Malagraine drawing the sword. warriors
King William seemed to swarm the hall.
One of them grabbed Margeaux. Cassandra tried to help her, but he could not;
the table was turned and half a dozen other warriors attacked the platform
on which they were.
John drew his sword to retreat. Then he turned and fled, abandoning all.
Surrounded by several of his men, opened Malagraine way out of
hall. Cassandra could have easily escaped, using his powers, but
did not.
John had attracted the warriors of King William to Tregaron with promises of
negotiate peace. Now, were trapped inside the fortress. For if it
well knew the foster brother, he certainly gathered more men who
were expected at that exact moment.
With Fallon at his side, Cassandra looked around in search of the warrior
had met in London. could still be a chance to save his men.
One of the guards tried John
bar his way, but was confronted with the wolf, and was thrown
ground, the sword flying from his fingers. Another tried to grab her, but fell
when the animal attacked him.
Cassandra saw the tall, bearded warrior engaged in a fight in the center of
Great Hall. Gradually opened the way out, freeing up with
great expertise. Two more warriors of King William invested on the table
trashed.
If I could reach them, she would protect them and would get there safely. but
saw his way blocked by the man she met in the hallway
court in London.
- Good evening, Cassandra. We meet again. - Anger flashed in
eyes of a golden amber when Stephen greeted with sword
drawn. - This is the welcome reception he planned for me and
my men?
Startled by the question and he knew his name, Cassandra retreated,
hesitant. The desire to achieve and drive men away in
safely out of an instinct to a mortal creature. Now, would use their
other senses and powers with which to capture the thoughts born
Warrior. He connected with the memory of their other meetings, as
there was something more than eluded her.
- No time - she warned. - You and your men need to get out of here
right now.
- Yes - Stephen agreed - we should walk out while two hundred Saxon rebels hope beyond those
walls to shoot us when we move.

Cassandra closed her brow before the cold sarcasm.
- There is another way - explained. - Over the caves below the
fortress. But you need to leave now and quickly. Or everyone will die.
- And you do not worry about what might happen to you?
- No, of course not.
The beautiful bearded warrior joined them, accompanied by several other
combatants.
- Tregaron and his men fled - informed.
The fight had been reduced to no more than a few skirmishes between
soldiers of the king and the last soldiers of Tregaron who had not fled.
- Gather the rest of men - Stephen ordered. - We will leave this place
right now. - Cassandra grabbed her wrist. - And you show us the way.
She felt a strange hazard stemmed from that warrior
they do not picked up earlier. Instinctively, he tried to free himself, but not
succeeded. When he did not let her go, tried to escape attracting its
powers.
- Not this time - Stephen murmured, to get a piece of blue ribbon
front of the tunic and tie it around your wrist quickly Cassandra.
Light as a feather, soft as satin, ribbon shone in the torchlight,
as if it were alive, and closed on his wrist as if it were made of steel.
Extremely alarmed, Cassandra attempted to invoke their powers, but found he could not.

He tried to free himself, debating whether,
unsuccessfully. Then he called Fallon mentally, but realized that
could not communicate with him by thoughts. Confused, cautious
with those strangers and fear that undoubtedly picked up the owner, the
white wolf dodged sneaked into the shadows.
The panic seized Cassandra. Her heart raced. For the first time in
Life felt an emotion he had never known. Fear.
What was happening? Who was that strange warrior
first met by accident, while passing through the portal of light to
the hallway outside the court of William in London?
What powers he possessed that nullified hers? Elora told her stories of
old days of the time of the great cataclysm. And warned about the powers of
Darkness.
Was he a Warrior of Darkness?

Although no longer possessed the power to know the thoughts of others,
Cassandra was reminded of something that old taught him:
The Darkness is such a pervasive evil that consumes the light of
truth, honor and love. Take care, girl, because they will rise
again. Here are now the wait in the shadows. You must destroy them,
or be destroyed.
Stephen pulled her against his own body, pushed her arms
Cassandra back and tied her wrists together behind his back, as if she were
a chicken in the market. The light torches glowed in the deep violet eyes, dark and
stormy.

What he saw there? Fear? Treason? Anger? Or the shadows of Darkness which have already
could have got hold of the powers that young?
Cassandra felt rude emanation of the warrior's strength throughout the body,
pressed against his. The amber eyes narrowed as if he
tried to see inside it. The terror settled on his chest of a
unlike anything she had ever experienced way. Felt
stripped completely without force with the deadly energy only for
protect it, and was aware that he was no match for him.
- What did you do? - Cassandra murmured.
- I took the prisoner.
- No need. Drop-me. I will help you escape.
- It will help us escape, and I did not release him. When she was about to protest,
Stephen motioned for his men to follow them. Then he turned
new to Cassandra.
- Where is this passage below the fortress?
She led them to the entrance, a series of stone steps leading down
for holes excavated in rock caves and ancient lords
fortress had built their guard against invasions. Cassandra does not
had no idea if John knew of the caves.
The men followed in line behind them, watch the way, guns
handle, if it led them to a trap.

So Cassandra saw a glimpse of that Margeaux also out
taken prisoner. Although it struggled, they were muted with a
cloth tied around his mouth, and had their hands tied behind their backs.
The walls were damp, stuffy air and stench. Cassie discovered
the passages so long ago, when living out in Tregaron. although
could move at will, sometimes used by the passages
precautionary case could be seen and their gifts, discovered.
The penetrating sea air filled his lungs to reach the end of
passage that opened into the coastal cliffs.
- These cliffs are at the edge of the forest. Can escape without being
seen. - Although his voice trembled, Cassandra muttered defiantly. -
His men are saved. I demand that you release me.
- I cannot - replied Stephen. - You will come with us. Fear closed the
Canyon Cassandra. She twisted her wrists, trying to get rid of the rope
rough. He stepped back, took a deep breath, tried to rely on their
senses in an attempt to meet the power you've always told. not
captured none of the thoughts of anyone. Do not know who to trust.
Took another step back, approaching dangerously near the edge of the cliff.
- I will not go with you. You can not force me. - Bold words, when the
fear gripped his throat.
The wind embarrassed her hair and framed her dress against the body.
His feet slipped on the wet rocks the foam of the waves soaked.

Still, she took another step back.
By doing so, was suddenly grabbed by a man. The Warrior
blue eyes who introduced himself as a leader in Tregairon. Cassandra cried
when he pulled away from the edge of the cliff. In most land
firm, she began to struggle and tried to escape.

Strong fingers closed on his shoulder, a touch of light caressed the
nape. It was the last thing that Cassandra felt before the darkness
involved. Passed out, head to tilt against the shoulder Truan,
as he lifted her in his arms.
- What happened? - Stephen asked, amazed.
- She must have lost consciousness. - Truan u explain then smiled. - For the
least that way, does not cause any problems.
Stephen agreed.
- Yes, bring it. We need to find the horses and leave this place. - He lifted
eyes to Tregairon fortress, perched on the rocks at the top.
Lights shone around the walls. Not be long until the leak
was discovered. - We need to get to Camelot before dawn.
Cassandra woke up and opened his eyes reluctantly, due to the light which waved
painfully on his face. The hand felt his forehead was cold and gentle, one
gentle caress that brought vague daydreams and memories
misty
Then it was, as she struggled to escape the dark void Sleep
dreamless.
Launched thoughts around, trying to grasp what was happening, but
found only silence. Sought to turn to the intimate, seeking the
power that was like a voice that always guided her, but there was no
response.
Was heard only a faint hissing sound, occasionally interrupted by
a sharp crack, which she recognized as the noise of the fire in the grate,
singing and musical water that gentle hand with a cold cloth that rested
on his forehead.
On the roof, there were beautiful flowers, hundreds of them, falling in curls
Vines, a lecherous green that climbed the walls. And with the beautiful
scenario came a delicious, fleeting at first smell, then spread
over her in fragrant waves. Under him, it seemed that there was a
fluffy cloud.
So vivid memories returned. A fierce battle between
Saxon rebels and warriors of King William, Tregaron, escape the
Over the caves beneath the fortress, taken prisoner with her and no more
count with extraordinary powers.
He sat down and held his breath with the pain throbbing in his head. a wave
nausea mastered it.
- Calm girl - a voice murmured. - It will pass.
Cassandra pressed her fingers to her temples, opened his eyes and saw the
creature that was standing beside the bed. It was old, petite and fragile. the
long white hair framed her head on a silver cloud.

Eyes caught his attention: they were
milky and opaque. The woman was blind.
- A small downside - the old woman said with a smile. - But I
I see far more than most to see.
Moved away from the bed in slow steps and then returned, too slowly.
Had a pint in hand.
- Drink this. - Given the expression of suspected Cassie explained: - It is a
tonic. Will remove the remainder of discomfort.
Cassie took the mug, hesitant, and sniffed the steaming content.
Chamomile. The old woman smiled while sitting on a bench beside the bed of the fur,
Cassandra while drinking tea.
shoulders. - If you wanted to poison her, could. - Before
Cassie asked, murmured: - They call me Meg
Despite blindness, Cassie felt that old watched, eyes
empty white and full of questions.
Cassandra put the mug on the bench and stretched his legs over the edge of
bed. He lowered his feet to the cold stone floor. When he realized that the room
would not spin, slowly stood up.
- What is this place? - Asked.
- Call of Camelot.
- The ancient fortress? But it was destroyed a long time ago ... Nothing left,
unless ruins. - Cassandra took a hesitant step. The pain no longer
bothered.
The walls were a soft shade of pink, the color of the stone with which
was built. A fire spreading heat, and the golden light played by
walls and created the illusion of dawn. At the top, the flower vault is
spread across the ceiling, painted each button as if someone had tried
recreate a flower-filled spring sky.
- Not everything is ruined - Meg said with a smile. - Something
left. They say waiting for the right time to claim her crown.
- A reluctant to fade Light, and awaiting the Dark Night ... -
Cassie repeated the words of the ancient legend known among the ancient
for five hundred years and murmured among simple people who still
believed that the former king back to rule one day. Faced with the old
a wary look.

- How did I get here? Who are you?
There were many answers, Meg thought Where to start? And what she accept?
Could not penetrate the very heart of the young did not know whether
Darkness had already mastered. Only knew the power was strong within her,
much stronger than in Vivian or Brianna. That was the daughter of Light
power of greatness. If accepted ... if he had not turned to the Darkness ...

- You have been brought here by the men of King William, after Lord
John the betrayed.
- And the one who leads them? - Cassie asked, running his fingers over the Ribbon
that was tied to his wrist, trying to find a way to remove.
Whatever its origin, had a strange effect, for as soon as the warrior tied on your wrist, it was like
trapped in shackles. Soon, however, escape, because any fetter had a
key that unlocked. The tape had neither beginning nor end. nor
broke.
His name is Stephen de Valois - - It's a knight of King - Meg replied.
- There was another with him - said Cassie, walking slowly by
bedroom, looking for some way to get the tape, he was sure it was the
reason for the loss of his powers. - A tall warrior, dark beard and air
Jolly silly.
- In fool has nothing - Meg replied, watching the sound of the voice. -
Truan Monroe is the islands of the West beyond the sea. - She caught the next
Cassie asks. - Unlikely allegiance to no king. Joined the fight
against Malagraine.
Cassandra looked at her in surprise, realizing that the old had the gift of
read thoughts. He knew there were many with that ability, but
never met anyone besides Elora. Then he saw the thin knife that hung
the old belt. Hid their own thoughts carefully when
Meg slowly approaching .
- There was a white wolf. What happened to him?
- He accompanied us from Tregaron, but does not approach anyone
nor let anyone go near him.
- And the other woman who was captured? Meg snorted.
- It has a nasty temper. They should not have it brought.
But think about negotiate it with Tregaron. In my view, already
did the worst of the bargain.
- And what will be my fate? - Cassandra asked. - What is my value
for warriors of King William?
- It was a conversation to distract the old, but the answer to amazed.
- Well more than you think, my girl: the entire future of a kingdom.
For a moment, Cassandra hesitated. Without his powers, even the most
simple skill could discern nothing beyond the words of the woman.
Yet there was something in the way she said, a prophetic sadness
involved in a small fragment of hope that will resonate in their hearts
recollected that as a voice murmured something she could not
hear clearly.
And in that brief moment, he felt he knew the old lady from another
time and place.

Away the feeling.
Taking advantage of the unique opportunity that could have,
advanced to the old and possessed of the knife to her waist.
Smart girl, thought Meg Courageous. Deprived of his powers by
spell that virtually kept prisoner in the mortal world, she
Hand cast the resources of any human being to free himself.
Need all their mortal qualities, as well as the gifts
immortals for what was ahead, he thought Meg Then he felt the
Cassandra frustration and anger through the thoughts
unguarded and taken from pure emotion. The knife does not cut the tape.
- Can
not be cut - Meg said, wanting to be able to take the tape and
calm the fears of Cassandra. But could not because they had no such power.
- There's only one person who can take it. The one who put it there.
The knife fell to the floor and clanked as the explosion of a human rabies. Meg
noticed the increasing anguish of Cassandra and the fear that she tried
hide.
- It's a spell.
- For what purpose? - Cassandra asked.
Not that Meg answered, but someone who entered the room at that
time:
- To prevent escape.
Cassandra turned. Stephen de Valois was in the doorway of the room.
Light the brazier played by handsome features and flashed in the eyes color
Amber, making her remember that day when I met him by chance, and
when he refused to let her go, traveling through the portal of light
that could have easily died. Again, Stephen kept her
prisoner.
- Leave us alone - he kindly asked the old lady.
Meg hesitated to twitch a wrinkle her forehead. Then agreed and headed
the door. Stopped while passing through the warrior. Grabbed his arm with a
incredible strength to her frail hand.
- All she knows was taken from him. Is vulnerable and scared as
a child who needs to learn all over again.
Stephen frowned.
- I will not do you any harm. You have my word.
- Not that I'm worried about her, my lord.
Suddenly there was a burst of broken crockery that came from within
room.
Meg leaned against the massive door that had only recently
replaced. He shook his head. Anxious thoughts connected up to
their silence in the hall: Talk about it. Tell me everything.
Captured all the hopes and fears of Ninian in mind that it joined the
her while the mother tried desperately to know something about the
daughter had not seen for many years.
- Has your logic and sensibility - Meg replied, aloud, as if
someone was there to listen. - It is sleek and beautiful. - He remembered the
feeling of features, the delicate curve of her chin, the snub nose. -
It is also stubborn and willful. - Another piece of pottery exploded
at the door, and Meg continued: - And have the temperament of his father.
What about the heart? He is honest?
In unspoken question, Meg realized Ninian's worst fear: that his
stubborn and headstrong daughter could already be lost to the darkness.
Sadly, there was only one answer she could give.
- I do not know, boss. Only time will tell if Cassandra heart is sincere. if survive
- Drop it! - Stephen ordered to confront the angry prisoner. - If
break, I'll hit you.
In less time than it had taken to the old leave the room, he was already
about to lose patience. At that moment, a good spanking
seemed an excellent idea, though he had promised not to mistreat
young.
Turned from another pot, one of the few intact in the ruins of ancient
fortress, now millimeters from your head and exploded on the wall.
- Stop it Now! - Leaned in time to prevent another projectile
burst into his skull. - Enough! - Muttering a curse, advanced
against Cassandra.
She was agile and quick. Stephen fled and took another piece of crockery
Arsenal picked up hastily to shoot him. When Stephen moved, she
hit with a load of flying shards, pieces of metal, twigs and
wood utensils. He only managed to grab her arm when
Cassandra tried to catch a crock pot.
- Do not do it! - Stephen exclaimed, patience exhausted.
She stared at him with those violet eyes and an innocent expression that
could melt the most hardened heart.
- Very well, my lord - said, with such smoothness and sweetness he
made the mistake of believing. Cassandra held out his other hand and opened his
fingers. The pot broke when falling on the stone floor.
Stephen was furious. The room, one of the few in the fortress
remained intact during all those years, now was chaos. in
matter of a few moments, she had gotten the five hundred years of
decay and the rats had not succeeded.
- Go get the tape? - Cassandra exclaimed, without bending the fingers when
it shook her arm.
- I'd rather cut my arm - Stephen retorted angrily. He pulled her against
itself.
- That can be arranged, my lord. In fact, it will be without the two, if I
get my hands on that sword.
Anger and threats. Meg was right. The girl was like a child, private
the powers that met the lifetime of charming wrapped by ribbon
on your wrist, and fought in the only way he knew, with what was left to him, the
instinct mortal.
But the creature that Stephen was not retained in her arms a child. It was a
woman of extraordinary beauty with violet eyes that sparkled between
Anger and tears, faces burning with redness, skin as pale
satin and soft breasts he felt through the layers of linen every
breathing.
She arched her back, her body rigid, to get away from Stephen, the expression
by surprise with intimate contact.
- Release Me - demanded, his voice low and full of uncertainty. Stephen recalled
the first meeting, which could have ended very differently. the
powers of the youngster were large, his immortal strength far greater than his.
Cassandra could have abandoned him as they traveled through the portal of light,
leaving him facing a perhaps worse than death uncertain fate. But not
made.
When she touched him, touched a deeper part within it. as if
came to his soul, a creature of light, not of this world, a creature that haunted her 1 white and
brought to an unknown land in a dangerous mission.
Now it was that needed him.
Stephen loosened the pressure of the fingers and released her. Grinned before the
expression of amazement that immediately arose in the eyes of Cassandra,
before a reaction that had not foreseen.
Aware of the threat, Stephen took the knife Meg floor. firmness and
Patience, he reminded himself, had done wonders with him as a child.
And worked hard, having weighed the options to choose.
First, she needed time to consider the choices should
do, Stephen thought, to put the knife in his belt. Looked around thoughtfully.
The - It will clean this room - said, looking at the destruction that Cassandra
caused. It was not a choice, it was an order. A little hard work
give her time to think. - Rub the floor and the walls. when
have clean, have food and clean clothes; before, no. -If you are not clean,
will be hungry.
The violet eyes flashed. Feet firmly on the ground, hands on hips,
she asked - Think of me submit by starvation?

Cassandra was the delightful image of childishness (and challenging outrage
female. Stephen clenched his teeth to keep from laughing. Or kiss her. The danger lay
on the way, and he was not willing to go that road, because outside
witness the spell that his two friends had succumbed to engage with
Merlin's daughters.

- No need to starve - Stephen replied, firmly and irony, the
remember their own confrontations with authority, as a child. -
Just need to cooperate. The choice is yours.
- Pig! - She said, wishing she had the power to transform it with
those words. He did not even blink before the insult. Actually
Cassandra had the impression that the warrior almost smiled. The only
infuriated her more. - You're worse than a pig! If not drop me, I swear
that ...
Stephen cut his sentence with a brusque gesture.
- Will do what, Cassandra? - Asked with a smile. Grabbed her
wrist tape to shine the torchlight. - Who knows me become a
porcupine.
His hand was warm, and his thumb touched her wrist on the curve below the
hand, long fingers to involve her arm with a gentle pressure.
Cassandra felt that power before, in the first meeting, when Stephen
grabbed her when she tried to flee through the gate, and again
kidnapped when out of Tregaron. Know the deadly power of those hands,
accustomed to wield the sword with deadly skill. However the fingers
bound her wrist were surprisingly gentle, his touch almost
a caress that Cassandra could easily stop.
Pulled his arm and instinctively rubbed the place where his fingers had
retained by the wrist.
- A porcupine would be great murmured, trying to disguise the
disconcerting sensation that lingered on your skin, the place where
Stephen touched her.
- Maybe a chance - he said, and turned to leave. At the door,
stopped. - I'll have to bring him food, but only when the room is
thoroughly cleaned. The choice is yours.
- What am I allowed to say that to live if I submit myself to
their requirements.
With an annoying calm, as if the outcome does not matter, Stephen gave
shrugged and repeated:
- The choice is yours, demoiselle.
- This is no choice! - Cassandra yelled as he closed and locked the
door behind him. - His terms or nothing? I do not accept such conditions! - A
last piece of pottery burst in the door, turning into shards.
There should be an easier way, Stephen thought, given the perception that
all things in life accounted for a full circle to revisit the acts
childhood now, like a man. How I would have been a child
less stubborn and obstinate.
Finally, exhausted, Cassandra leaned against the wall. The fire burned low in
brazier. There was no food or water or any whole container
inside the room. The rage subsided, and she found herself alone with the thoughts,
while an overwhelming doubt dominated.
Where, Elora? I need you. He taught me to use my powers, but not taught me how to
live without them. What should I do?

Only silence came in answer to his anguished thoughts.
Cassandra sat against the wall, disoriented without his senses to
guide her. Then, finally, his mortal perception sharpened. And she heard noises
beyond the door as if someone approached and then passed. got up
and tried to run the bolt, though he knew the door was locked
the outside. He turned to the intimate and tried to gather his powers to
open the lock, though he knew he was powerless. Then went to the
windows.
They were arched wood framed and made of a material resistant
at some time painted a delicate shade of pink. A real prison, right
once occupied by a queen.
He opened one of the windows and peered out. Found that he was in a room
a high tower. There was a small porch outside, but
no means of escape to the ground, unless it had wings. And
point, it was obvious that he had not.
Paced from side to side, kicking the pieces of crockery, the fingers
rub the tape, imagining their origin: an enchantment with the ability
to steal the powers. Where the warrior arranged? What was the source of
power of that piece of cloth? Who was Stephen de Valois? Was a servant
Dark? If so, why, how Elora had warned, he simply
not destroyed?
He was hungry, but ignored the snoring stomach, and kicked more shards. by
Finally, the light of day quenched in the windows.
The room grew increasingly dark and cold. And Cassandra took refuge in the heat
the bed with its thick fur.
There, huddled in a ball, arms around his knees, stared at the
ceiling that once shone like the dawn, with the flowers that seemed to
would plummet upon it. As night fell, the flowers gave way to
a canopy of twinkling lights that dotted the ceiling and shone
like stars in the sky.
Cassandra fell asleep. And had strange dreams. With warriors and knights
from ancient times, with a powerful king who once ruled Camelot
with strength, courage, honor. And heard their whispers, full of tenderness and
longing for a queen who loved him with a love stronger than the
Death.
Remember ...




chapter IV


Cassandra woke early. He held her hair in a long braid and tried
make their appearance the best. Do not got anything in the room and
hoped that his captors appeared.
Hoped that the old could return because felt a sympathy
that it could use to their advantage. Surely a knight of King
William would not have time to worry about prisoners. He was convinced,
after loud complaints from his stomach, which was prepared
to challenge the demands unless he accepted his.
By midmorning, finally heard the scrape of metal against metal a
a rotating bolt lock iron. Cassandra jumped up and smoothed the
dress. The expression on his face, when the door opened, it was a cold
challenge, and quickly turned into amazement before a
girl who entered the room.
She was thin as a reed and petite and wore a dress simple there.

Stopped hesitantly, eyes to review the mess in the room. without
doubt wondered if she was in danger when entering. His face in the format
heart, upturned nose, delicate mouth. Promised to become a woman
beautiful adult. Arm, carrying a dress, a combination and a soft
pair of leather boots. And with it, the door came the smell of food.
The girl did not say a word. So, a warrior came back, bringing
a tray of food. It was the same who had led the king's men
William the hall, Tregaron.

Truan Monroe's eyes were as blue as Cassandra remembered. And
your smile, outlined by thick beard, was irritating. The tray and a pitcher
metal he carried were covered by a cloth. a smell
escaped wonderful food, tormenting her, as was certainly the
intention.
He carried the tray to the table beside the brazier and removed the cloth. The pitcher,
metal containing fresh milk. Just seeing, Cassandra felt thirsty because
broken the pot of water on the wall last night, on your access
fury. The food tray was simple: freshly baked bread, pieces of
cold chicken and apple slices, plus a jar of honey. It seemed a feast.
Her mouth was filled with water, stomach growled. She could not
taking his eyes from the tray.
The girl crossed the room and put the clothes on the bed. were
simple but clean, compared to those Cassandra wore, stained with mud and mold the
caves in Tregaron.
In fact, she realized, upon rising, particularly a smell
Nasty rising from dirty dress. Examined the spots that
smelled of manure. Her slippers were full of the same spots.
Had used the combination and a small puddle of water on the floor, the place where the
pot was broken, to clean up a bit. But now the combination was
ruined and she had nothing to wear under the dress.
- I see you've made some arrangements - Truan said, laughing at the eyes
examine the room littered with shards. - My lord would be delighted to see
effort you made.
First a pig, and now a pompous windbag and Donkey!, Cassie thought, furious, looking
once again drawn to the food tray.

It was, must have special powers to see the game played her captor. thought
that would force the transfer to tease her with food and clean clothes!
- You lead men. And now a role created. Perhaps then
must empty the urinal!
Truan smiled. Enjoyed the presence of mind that young.
- I think not - said with that air of cheerful silly. - How do you
broke, there's nothing to empty. But I'm sure you've felt the
miss him.
Really, she felt upon waking. And it had come to add to your list
growing discomforts.
- And do I lead a man. It was necessary that milor-and the rest of their
Warriors could hide among the Saxon rebels inside the hall,
Tregaron. If we come together - Truan mused, watching her,
to see the reaction - we'd all be dead.
For a moment, the mood in those eyes disappeared and saw Cassandra,
beneath the jovial faade, a serious demeanor, as if there were another
man behind that air fool.
- Now, however, you act as if it were part of the footmen.
He blinked and touched his heart, as if mortally wounded.
- His tongue lady is so sharp like a dagger. Nobody ever you
said it will attract more flies with honey than with vinegar?
Cassandra tried to ignore the behavior of clown. Sometimes one
man really looked like a fool. But other ... Slowly, he
poured the milk into a mug.
- I do not want to attract flies - she replied, determined to ignore the game. -
I would kill them, so do not need honey.
Truan spread honey on a slice of bread, thick liquid and the golden
seeping through his fingers. Licked them slowly, with delighted air. And an apple
Juicy was under another cloth.
With a wink, he murmured:
- I'll remember what you said.
Inwardly, Cassie moaned to imagine the sweetness of honey to fill her mouth.
As Truan via devour the bread and drink milk, his stomach began to
loud snoring, she could not avoid.
- What did I hear? - He exclaimed, with a caosta seriousness,
placing the hand behind the ear. - Did you say something, mrs.
Cassandra?
- You're an idiot! - She huffed as she turned to the window in order not to be
forced to watch that skit. - And you can take it though because not
I want nothing. Not until he get this damn tape my wrist.
Truan shrugged to shove another piece of bread in his mouth.
- If you do not need food, you might want to clean clothes - he suggested. -
This room is smelling the barn.
Cassandra turned slowly. His gaze fell instinctively on
now empty of all food tray, but a piece of bread
seemed to be waiting for her.
- And the price of the clothes? - Asked, wondering what new requirements
would be made.
- Need to clean the room first.
- And the price of food?
He smiled, and Cassandra knew the answer. Was the same.
- And if I want to leave this room? - He raised his hand, already knowing the answer.
- Do not say anything!
- It's simple - Truan said, as the girl took the bedclothes and
gave the Cassandra.
- Take them away - Cassie said, offended, do would bend to the will of Stephen de Valois.
- Take it all away.
The girl flinched as if he'd been slapped and walked away
quickly. In his haste, he dropped the leather boots. Looked hesitantly from
Cassandra for the warrior, as if expecting a reprimand.
- What is the problem? The girl cannot speak?
- They told me not to speak since his village was burned and the family
murdered in front by Saxon rebels who fled to the lands of
West - Truan explained, very seriously.
With his powers, Cassie had always known the feelings and thoughts
the others. Now, however, I could not catch anything. It was as if a
covered had been placed over her senses, leaving her with only the
skills from other mortals. And hurt the girl with his rudeness.
He stooped and picked up the boots. It was towards the girl, but Truan prevented
holding her arm.
- Do not intend to mistreat her - Cassandra murmured in surprise.
- Her name is Amber - Truan said, and let go. Cassie gave him the
boots and explained.
- Please try to understand, Amber. I cannot accept. The girl faced
with caution. Finally, agreed and took the shoes.
- Please take it all away - Cassie said, turning to not
saw the doubt and uncertainty in his expression.

- So? - Stephen asked, when the two left the room. -
Succeeded?
- None - Truan informed; slid the apple with the knife and and bit
- My friend, faces a job cut out for you.
- It's been six days - Stephen murmured, with increasing frustration. - She
ate something?
- It took only water - said Meg
- And the clothes?
- Refused all.
- What about the bedroom?

- The same way.
Stephen was sitting before the fire in the brazier, the starry chamber.
Since the day that had settled in the ancient ruins, the rooms had
been cleaned of debris and dust. The bodies of the warriors had been
removed and buried on the hill overlooking the fortress. but still
there were signs of the battle that was fought there five hundred years before.
Although the walls had been rubbed, the marks remained. the
chairs that once surrounded the large round table were no longer
there, replaced by simple banks because Stephen had chosen that place for
meet with their riders, as the old king was advised there with
mates.
The table, once again, was standing; the rotted foot had been exchanged. had
been the first thing that he commanded the return of Tregaron.
Stephen stood up and walked around slowly
table, looking thoughtfully at the twelve panels with Latin inscriptions.
Since seen this place for the first time, and his warriors
the ghostly guard positions with wielded swords, he
felt that an identification could not explain. Identification of the
compel them to return, in defiance of their own king, and he felt again
returning after the battle in the forest of Brodmir.
Since then, nearly every day, people came to the ruined fortress. The
principle, one or two, a farmer bringing food, an expert mason
under construction. But the number increased each day as the news
spread until more than one hundred people now dwelt within
walls of the ruined castle, and many others came all the time.
Workers dig the walls and caulk the cracks between the stones.
Other redo the roofs. Carpenters tore down the buildings caved,
that lined the walls of the fortress, and built new. night
for the day, the city had risen for life. Also among those who
scattered through the hills nearby, there were men who could
wielding a sword or battle axe, and many more that were
extremely skilled with a long and unusual archery.
West of Tregaron, there was only silence. A dangerous and threatening
silence that could not last. Addition, Stephen was sure.
He began to walk from one side of the room to another. He turned to
Meg
- There is nothing that can be done?
- I warned you that Cassandra would not be easily persuaded - the old
recalled. - You play a game she does not understand.
- This is not a game, but something extremely serious. Do not know if Cassandra is
reliable. How to know when to remove the charming, if she has not turned
for the powers of darkness? I'd be risking everyone who put their
trust and life in my hands. And if Cassandra did not turn to the
Darkness, as can be persuaded to do what must be done?


- It's an interesting dilemma, warrior. For the spell protects the
same time prevents her know the truth.
- There's nothing you can tell me so I know if Cassandra has
a sincere heart?

- I only know the sincerity of anger she carries, many years ago.
Cassandra refused to return to the mist and learn the ancient methods and
receive the legacy that awaited. Turned his back on those who
loved. I cannot say what is in your heart.
- If she is like a child, then what should I do? How to do it
understand?
- You are the teacher. She is a student.
- A stubborn student.
- So, maybe you should first get his attention.


The eyes of Stephen if has narrowed, thoughtful. Then, he smiled. The last six days, since that
Cassandra out hijacked Tregaron, had transformed into a monotonous routine that sometimes
made her think that derange.
Each morning, precisely at the same time, the door opened and a tray
with food was delivered. And every morning, she refused to answer the
ultimatum given to him. The routine was repeated at noon and again at night.
And every time, Cassandra refused to accept the terms set out.
However, the succession of days, it became harder to resist. If not
by water and the olive-mad that brought him old, Cassandra did not think
that could have survived so far.
On the third day brought the old small plant. A tonic, said,
against any wear her kidnapping.
Under the watchful eye of the guards, had instructed the old boiling a special tea
with the leaves of the plant. But Cassandra knew those same leaves
also harbored. During the last three days subsisted water and
leaves of olive-mad.
It was a very poor substitute for food. Each time a tray
Juicy meat and fragrant bread was brought to the room, Cassie
found it more difficult to resist. Gathered the strength and kicked the broken
ceramic everywhere, angry.
During the long hours of confinement, searching the the top floor of the room for some means of
escape, and found nothing.

Had been done repairs. The door was resistant. AND the blue ribbon was gleaming as a
straightjacket put. I was trapped, until he found a way to convince Stephen of Valois to release it.
He turned to hear noise on lug. Was Smoothed the dress dirty and wrinkled. Managed clean with
the little water that brought him all day. Not drank, used for washing.

. Straighten his shoulders and prepared to face the guard with a friendly expression. AND always
was happy to see Meg and the girl, Amber, Although he could not talk with the latter.
goggle eyes of surprise when the door opened and neither Meg nor Amber brought the tray of
food. Instead, your trap was on the threshold of the door, arms crossed on his chest.

Not uploaded any tray, nor any created followed him. Cassandra looked around, because also does
not track any of the guards.

- Good day, Madam
- Stephen the greeted us. I hope that you slept well.
- Very well - she murmured, hesitant.

- The room is not clean. - She frowned at the obvious, imagining
if he expected there to be an answer
- Refuses to clean it?
What game was that?
- Yes, my lord, I refuse.
- Are you ready to accept his punishment?
Punishment? Faced him. He decided to send pummel it?
- You can do whatever you want, my lord - Cassandra said defiantly. - I
not wipe the room.
The term rider was impenetrable. And worse, she had no idea what
he thought. Fear invaded it when Stephen said, very seriously:
- I regret that we have reached this point.

He crossed the room in long strides, reaching it before Cassie
could react. When Stephen raised his hand, Cassandra raised
arms in a defensive gesture. But instead of hitting her, he grabbed her and
threw it over his shoulder.
Stephen straightened it as if Cassandra were a sack of potatoes. air
escaped his lungs when his shoulder tightened her ribs. its
blurred vision is black splashes and suddenly she felt a weakness
immense to have to fight for breath. He leaned on the back of
warrior trying to get up, but he grabbed her by the buttocks with
force. Cassandra reacted indignantly.

- I demand that you release me! - Shouted. Stephen seemed not to hear and out the door.
- Put me down! - She shouted, and ended the sentence with a yell,
when he dropped her legs and almost dropped the back.
The hair came loose braid and spread, Cobrin-in-cheek.
During the whole time, while Stephen was carrying the fortress to a
open courtyard, Cassandra muttered threats and pests and something like
a promise than he would if he could take the tape.

- Put me down! - She yelled. - You have no idea who is
dealing.
- You're wrong, Cassandra. I know exactly who I'm dealing with.
The answer infuriated her even more. Cassie started beating on the back of
Stephen and kicking his chest, determined to break free.
- I demand that you release me!
- Okay, demoiselle. As you wish.

The change in tone should have warned her. But Cassie did not pay
attention. When he realized that he wanted to release it, it was late
too much to imagine why.
Stephen took her shoulder and took her on his lap, one arm under hers, the other
under the knees. Then, suddenly, we saw Cassandra launched the air. his scream
ended in a gasp of fright to sink into the trough of the horses.
Spitting and choking, she struggled in the water, soaked in her hair
cover your nose and mouth, clothes to pull her to the bottom, preventing it from
stand.

- I hate you! - Shouted.
- No doubt.
- You are a disgusting toad, a dirty, filthy pig ... The last word
ended in a scream, the instant Stephen grabbed by the collar
dress. Cassie's eyes widened when she saw him take the knife, and then the
widened even more when he cut his neck dress to the hem.
She wore no combination, and pale skin seemed almost the translucent light of dawn.
Although she tried to close the dress, he opened
exposing the soft curve of her hips, a thin waist, the hands of Stephen
could go around, and firmer breasts.
He found himself taken aback by this unexpected nudity and heat
also held that the sudden, and it had nothing to do with anger.
Cassandra tried to protect themselves, clinging to parts of the dress, and used the
only way to cover: sank in water up to his neck.
- I hate it! You son of a depraved! Offspring of the demo! Your body
smearing themselves with warts! That his manhood shrink and rot! That ...
Stephen covered her mouth and pushed her head into the water.
- What a dirty mouth to a young lady - scolded her, according to a
crowd slowly gathered around, including Truan Monroe, the
followed by the patio.

Stephen let her come up to the surface to breathe.
- Apologize?
- Never! I curse the day you were born! Your spine will bend and
bend. Born a bump in the middle of your back ...
He pushed her down again.
- The water is cold - Truan commented, as wisps of steam rose from the
trough, in the cold morning air.
- Yes, it is - confirmed Stephen, holding the head of Cassandra in the
water.

- You will not want her to get sick.
- At this point, I would simply like to take her out. -
Cassandra let float and then sank again.
With a thoughtful expression, Truan suggested:
- I think you should stop it.
- When she has enough.

Amid spat pests, Stephen pushed the head of Cassandra
down.
- She's had enough.
- This does not concern you.
- Relates to me! - Truan said in a dangerous tone. Then, when
Stephen looked at him, smiled. - You're having fun, without thinking that can
drown her.

- It occurred to me ... - Stephen let go.
Cassandra floated to the surface. Choked, spat between pests and
profanity, and brushed the hair from her face. His eyes seemed to want to shoot
Stephen de Valois.

He took a brush from those used in horses and threw it in the trough, along with
a piece of soap ashes.
- Scrub up - ordered. - Toda, until clean. If you do what I
said - He leaned over the trough, his hands resting on the edge - I
even rub!

Brush floated before her like a small boat in a stormy sea. Cassandra
realized that everyone around watching to see what she would do.
His teeth began to chatter with cold. But he dared not leave the water
without doing what Stephen commanded, for I feared that he fulfilled the
threat. He tore the remnants of her dress and began rubbing her foot with brush and soap under
water.

- If this keeps up - Stephen warned - I will be forced to go in there and
provide the service to be done right.
She stared at him, between furious and terrified.
- You would not dare!
- Of course! - He exclaimed. - For anyone who cannot admit
smell worse than my horse! And when you're clean and not smelling like
a lot of manure, we'll talk again. Until then ...
He leaned closer. Cassandra stood motionless in the water, lips to
become bluish with cold and fright.
- I suggest you keep rubbing. - The tone of voice was cool and calm,
and was far more frightening than when Stephen screamed. - Each part.
Among those who had gathered around, saw Sir Stephen Kay away from the
trough.

- Bring something to the girl cover when finished. If she complain if
say a nasty word, leave it where it is.
Then he turned and left the courtyard. Now, Cassandra would give him attention.
Cassandra woke with a start and raised his head from his arms folded
the knees. The sound of metal against metal had awakened.
The door opened slowly. The light of the torches in the hall fell on the floor
stones. She got up, tired muscles protesting every
movement, the taut nerves.

Spent the entire day scrubbing the room, walls, floors, windows, until
each stone shine in the color of light sand. Until his knuckles
were raw and bleeding flesh; beyond the point at which the muscles
CAI-bras were tired. Beyond exhaustion, not to run the risk of
a new punishment; beyond the anger and humiliation; beyond the tears
shed until, exhausted, alone and full of fear, had failed more
cry.

Hours earlier, a servant brought him hot water, a bowl of soup and a
clean clothes, who now wore. Cassandra thought to play all three
the window. But fear of retaliation prevented.
Had dry eyes now, only slightly swollen, to retreat to the
shadows near the stove, fists clenched the sides, without any
weapon, except pride.
Tell me.
The insistent thoughts of Lady Ninian connected with the old
Meg when it stood in the doorway of the room.
What Cassandra feels?
Feel scared, angry ... very angry and courage.
Is she okay?
Yes, ma'am, as much as can be expected.
And your thoughts?
Are closed to me. I'm just your human emotions. very angry
and suffering. I cannot see your heart.
Need to reach him, my friend, Ninian begged. Need help the young man approaching her, because
his fate is intertwined with The Cassandra.
She should accept his legacy.

Try, lady, replied Meg But I cannot force her to do what no
want to see. I cannot make her accept it for what closed the heart.
At first, only silence ensued. So enchanted captured the
Ninian despair.

So she is already lost, and there is hope.
Beside the old, the door, Gavin Mars lit another torch. The light
lit Cassandra, who lurked in the shadows with a warlike air,
ready for confrontation.
It can come willingly or dragged, kicking and screaming. But it must come.
That was the order given to Gavin Mars.
Young Gavin hoped not to have to drag it into the main hall. turns
confrontation in the courtyard. He felt that order would be received. He resolved
use another strategy.
- With apologies - started hesitantly, to coin the phrase itself
- My lord, humbly makes him an invitation to join him for
evening meal.
Beside, Meg looked up, surprised, as were other orders
Stephen, and she expected the worst. Cassandra also seemed surprised.
- Those were his words?

- Yes, ma'am, the exact words.
- He apologizes? - She asked incredulously.
Sir Gavin swallowed. What difference would a lie or a dozen?

The result could not be worse than comply with the order given him.
- He humbly apologizes and regrets the treatment dispensed
the lady. Waiting to forgive you.
Beside, Meg muttered:
- It's best to expect the worst when he finds out the lies; and she, the
deception.
The tension eased the shoulders of Cassandra, replaced by a deep
tired and hungry. His stomach hurt as much as the muscles that
throbbed, and the back, which burned.
- Accepted.
- You are doomed - Meg murmured softly to the warrior, with
a smile. - I like to see what will come.
- You have a better idea hag? - He murmured.
- No it can be so much fun.
Cassie was impressed with the transformation of the ruined castle,
as accompanied Sir Gavin. Was very different from the ruins
crumbling discovered that many years before. As a child, heard all
legends about the ancient castle and his king. Myth and legend intertwined
in stories of brave knights and sage royal advisor, Merlin. The
castle was called Camelot, where twelve knights, the best known
names like Lancelot, Sir Gawain, Melador, Sir Hector and Sir Bors, if
gathered around the round table to decide on the future of the kingdom.

But the war had spread through the region. An immense army was formed in
north and invaded the kingdom, led by warriors whose helmets, swords and
breastplates were as black as the darkness that filled their souls
covered with Evil..
The powers of Darkness invaded Camelot.

The king was betrayed by one of his
Knights whom he loved like a brother and trusted above
all others. The shadows filled the corridors and courtyards of the fortress.
Arthur was mortally wounded in battle. Merlin captured and banished to the
world between worlds. The warriors had faced last
time against the enemy in the great starry chamber of the Round Table. Ali
with drawn swords, defended the king and fell, one by one, gun in
hand.

After that, the king and the dead warriors and Merlin banished to the world
lower, the darkness had spread the earth. War, disease, death and the
growing power of greed settled into ruthless men like
Prince Malagraine.

Stories were told to children to the side of the fireplaces in the evening. but there was
those who still believed that the powers of Light and Darkness continued to
battle for the kingdom of mankind and that one day the Light rebuild against
The Darkness to claim the reign.

Cassandra had heard all the stories as a child. But he did not believe
them. Until awakened from a troubled dream and discovered the camera
starry, within the walls of the ruined castle. It was the first time
crossed the portal light. When you appeared on the other side, entered in the chamber.
And turns attracted, as it grew increasingly the old ruins.

Now, hallways and rooms were very different from what
kept since childhood. All debris and dirt were gone.
The walls had been scrubbed and floors, swept. layers
mortar were visible on the walls where the stones had been
replaced. Lights shone torches and oil lamps. By going through
a corridor that opened onto a balcony, Cassandra saw flashes in
parapet walls. The courtyard below was speckled sheen
bonfires. A small town had settled under the castle. after
five hundred years, Camelot was alive again.
Cassandra stopped hesitantly, to reach the large hall. Before the fire,
had several tables with seats on both sides. A deer baked in
fire. The tables were filled with platters of food. The aroma of the dishes
mingled with the wood, mortar and the sweet smell and penetrating
pine lamps in the walls.

The conversation stopped suddenly when Cassandra came. And she realized,
among those who regarded it, Margeaux was treated as a
guest rather than a prisoner. He sat at a table near the fireplace. had the
braided hair tied with a silk ribbon that matched the color of
dress, and looking gloomy, in sharp contrast with the smile that drove the
warrior side.

Cassie was accompanied to the table by the fireplace. Stephen de Valois
rose and greeted her.

- Good evening, madam. Glad you joined us.
- His excuses were very persuasive - she stated. - But I
intrigued with the humility demonstrated. I thought it was incapable of it.
Stephen addressed his rider a questioning look.
- I'm also intrigued.

Gavin excused himself and hurried away. Meg was sitting on a bench in
corner of the fireplace, where he could watch everything but the distance.
- It seems we were both wrong, my lord - Cassandra told
Stephen as he turned to leave, decided to leave the room as quickly as
could.
He grabbed her wrist.
- Please stay.
She felt it was an order, not a request, by finger pressure to
your wrist.
- And if I refuse?

- You know what to expect.
Cassandra took a deep breath and gasped her breasts under the simple wool dress
Gray, who had replaced Stephen cut. Her hair was
loose and fell in a stream of shimmering satin, the color of midnight, and
framed her delicate features. Her eyes were eyes witch
dark as obsidian, which glowed with violet flames under the arch
delicate eyebrows. An intense blush spread across her cheeks.
Stephen saw the anger and humiliation that face, the color flushed, the tense jaw,
while Cassandra struggled to retain calm. Finally, she sat up.

- It would be a shame to waste such a good food - he murmured,
making a sign for an established place a dish for Cassandra.
- What difference does it make if I eat or not?
- Makes a big difference, and you will eat.
Was on the tip of the tongue refused to say, however Cassandra knew the
Stephen retort. She would have to bear the consequences.
- Assure that the food is not poisoned.
To prove it, he cut a piece of meat from the leg of venison and put it
the dish itself. The hunk, juicy, appetizing was. The mouth
Cassandra was filled with water and she gulped when Stephen
chewed a portion.

- If you wanted to poison her, would have done it days ago, the water you
drank. - Then He used a chicken leg that was swimming in sauce
sweet plums. - You may prefer to roast venison chicken - murmured,
offering her thigh, after biting a loaf.

The stubborn pride fought with hunger and common sense, while Cassandra
could not take her eyes off the food. So, hunger won. she
reached out and grabbed the chicken thigh. Experienced sauce
plums and let out a sigh of satisfaction as the perfect teeth
buried in the soft flesh. He ran his tongue over his lower lip to clear the
sauce that dripped.
That simple gesture made Stephen's mouth drying up and a burning desire
burn your veins.

There was something almost intimate in the way Cassandra savored
exactly the same chicken leg he had bitten the sauce to shine in
voluptuous lips, as if ... she savored. He felt suddenly as
if Cassandra was the captor; and he, captive.
She put the bone clean in the dish and Stephen served slices of venison, one
portion of bread and baked apples. The watchful eye of Cassandra found
his, still cautious, still watchful.
Stephen left her at home and devoted himself to the meal itself. silence
settled between them.
Cassandra ate to satiation. Then relaxed and looked around. there was
an almost festive atmosphere in the hall. Margeaux even seemed to feel
at ease, talking to the warrior beside him.

Old Meg was not far. The girl, Amber, serving food and filled the
mugs, moving silently among tables. Appetites satisfied,
conversations are encouraged, and heard laughter and mixtures of languages. Truan
Monroe entertained with some sleight of hand. Then caused
delighted screams of one of the maids to take a flower behind her ear, and
an egg from the air.

Considering the requests of all, Truan went to the center of the hall. with a
silly smile on his face, made gold coins vanish and appear in the ear
one or other; a dove appeared in the palm of your hand and then
disappeared. A volume filled his groin. Red, he shrugged and
covered, provoking laughter. Then reached into his pocket and pulled out the
dove, which flew, disappearing into the ceiling while were heard jokes about the virility of men who
often also disappeared.
Cassandra could contain himself no longer.
- Why did you bring me here? - Asked Stephen. - What do you want from me?
Stephen's gaze was contemplative, as he leaned back in his chair,
studying Cassandra, a mug of wine stuck in long fingers. their
hair hung loose over her shoulders, giving him a leonine appearance.
The meeting she had with Stephen still burned in his memory, and
such a way to think Cassandra tried again, that heat- unsettling in the skin.
- I have no value to you. Nor am I a threat to their men.
If you think of ransom or make arrangements for my back ...

He did not answer. In fact, it did not seem to pay attention, eyes
Truan arrested in Monroe, who did a trick with a barrel of water and
repeating certain words, like a charm. When taking your hands off the barrel,
this seemed to float in the air. Truan was willing to teach magic to the son of
a cook.
Cassie grimaced at the empty words and meaningless nothing
meant, but looked at the boy, Gryffyd excitedly repeating them.
Then, as the Truan taught, Gryffyd removed his hand from under the barrel.
To the surprise and admiration of all who watched the barrel was
suspended in the air. Gryffyd smiled and bowed in obeisance, before
applause and cheers from the audience.
Stephen turned to Cassandra and finally answered:
- No ransom demand. Or conditions.
She stared at him. Then suddenly, shouts of surprise followed the explosions
of laughter when the barrel and poured the entire contents spilled
about the head and shoulders of the boy.
- But surely, do not think about keeping me here - Cassandra replied,
afflicted amid the smile that slowly lost its lustier as Truan
Monroe approached the table. By the expression on his face that silly gay,
she knew exactly what he meant.
- A little fun might bring a smile to the face of the lady ... -
Truan murmured. - A simple trick. I think I'll read your thoughts.
Cassandra stepped back, frightened. Barely managed to hear what he had said.
When Truan pulled her by the hand, she instinctively tried to get rid of.
- No, please ...
Needed to leave, leave that place. He smiled, not the silly smile
gay, but a smile hidden behind that mask idiotic.
- It will be your chance to prove that even the fool is silly. Without accepting a
no for an answer, Truan explained to him how would the trick. With a piece
coal, Cassandra should draw something on a scroll without
show to anyone. The parchment was folded and placed in the care
The girl, Amber. Truan then try to see what she had drawn.
Realizing that he would not leave her alone until she agreed, Cassandra took the piece
of charcoal and drew one of ancient runes, the sign of the bird in flight,
a symbol of freedom.
when finished, folded the parchment and handed it to the girl.
- Now you should only think what drew on parchment.
Truan closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temples, as if he could
find the answer there.
Come back, Cassandra. The words echoed in her thoughts. you need to
return. Remember ...
- I know - Truan announced. Looked into her eyes. - The image that drew on
Parchment is a beast. - He frowned, as if making an effort. -
A bird.
- He smiled again like that jolly silly. Picked up a thigh
Chicken of the table. - A chicken? - Announced with a grin.
The room, have heard the cries for Amber showed what was
drawn on parchment. The girl unfolded it and showed the drawing.
Laughter exploded.
But Cassandra did not seem to hear anything. Looked at the tape on the wrist with air lost.
- I demand that you release me - said bitterly.
Stephen noticed the change in the voice, anger mixed with fear.
- Sorry, demoiselle, but I cannot.
- You cannot or will not?
- Okay, Cassandra - said Stephen. - Do not release him.
Too late, he saw the knife in her hand.





















chapter V


The blade flashed and slid by the skin of Stephen, face to chin. a
close bloodline sparked by the cut.
He grabbed her wrists Cassandra and twisted them behind. As she struggled, pulled her against
his chest and held her wrists behind his back until Cassandra yelled in pain and stopped
fighting. The hall was plunged into silence. Only heard the sizzle of coals in
fire and the sound of panting breath of all, at the scene.
Cassandra caught in one of his hands, Stephen played with the other
cut in the face.
- Your aim is as hurtful as his tongue - he muttered.
- No, my lord - she said, between her lips tight with anger, fear
and surprise. - I was wrong.
Cassandra gasped when Stephen bent her wrists tighter in
backs. So, the knife fell from his fingers and clattered to hit the table.
Defeated, surrounded by men of Stephen,
completely helpless and without hope or possibility of escape,
Cassandra felt her eyes fill with tears.
Meg approached, distressed. In the center of the hall, Truan watched, hands
Completed in hand, every muscle tensed.
Everyone expected what would happen. At least, she deserved a beating.
But that would only increase the desire to challenge you and grow angry,
Stephen thought. Grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back.
Wires twisted like a rope satin, the other wrist to push him
chin, so that Cassandra had to face him.
- I intend to do no wrong - he said, before kissing her.
Cut her panting, proved the curve of his full lips and then
smoothness and softness of touch. He felt surprise and then anger.
Cassandra tried to escape. And Stephen shook hands that held by
hair, keeping her prisoner, as he deepened the kiss, forcing her to
open to him, forcing him to retreat, to insinuate into the language
moist cavity. Then she felt the heat. Moved through her body with
the power of a thousand suns burning in his blood and every nerve ending.
Emotions and feelings that Cassandra rarely experi-ciara before with
their unusual powers that protected human frailty suddenly
exploded inside her. Hatred, suffering and fear involved. then
confusion and humiliation. And finally, something completely new: desire.
The feeling pervaded her senses like a mist to bend slowly around hate and fear, as the
heat of the sun in face, after a long and cold winter, as the lingering
warmth of a fire that seems pain-mitar the coals and suddenly bursts into flames.
His mouth moved against his first in an angry protest, while
sought to free itself, the body arched to distance himself as much as he could.
Then a gasp of astonishment, Cassandra shivered violently. And
Finally, confused, breathless, abandoned himself to the sensations.
The anger glowed in the golden eyes of Stephen when he interrupted
the kiss abruptly, the ribbon of blood stand out on your face; the
expression, a hard mask. Stared at her.

The pulsation in the neck of Cassandra was a bird caught in
trap. Stephen fingered the vein that throbbed and closed his hand
around the frail neck with incredible tenderness.
- The next time you pull a knife, lady, you better kill me. -
He pushed her back in the chair, forcing her to sit. - Or the price will be
much more than a kiss. - Let me go, and need not be afraid of a knife in your back when
're sleeping.
Stephen leaned over her, hands clenched on either side of the arms
chair, his face so close that the scratching of blood became a blur. as
close to everything Cassandra saw were those golden eyes and dangerous.
- I see no reason to be afraid, ma'am - he said, with a bending of
eyebrows - unless you want to join me in my bed.

Her eyes widened. His face burned with humiliation. Rose from
chair.
- Even if you were the last man on earth!
Stephen pushed her back and grabbed her chin. His lips brushed
Cassandra's every word.
- So, none of us have anything to fear.
The silence weighed down the hall. Cassandra felt the stares of men. she
was the enemy. In thought, was sentenced to death.
Felt the blood drain from her veins, as froze a moment,
then burned in furious challenge. Hate and pride were what you
remained. And that strange emotion surrounding that still throbbed under the skin,
as if something alive awaken within him and tore into pieces to
leave.
Suddenly, there was a buzz through the corridors. Increase in volume
until it was outside the hall. Then the doors opened.
Knights wielded swords and formed a protective barrier
between tables and doors. Stephen stepped forward, gun in hand, followed
by Sir Gavin and Truan Monroe.
Cries of surprise and confusion settled echoed through the hall when
several men moved away to make way for a group. other
leaped aside, the sound of growls and grunts.
Stephen's hand relaxed on the hilt of the sword see four of his men approaching, dragging
something with
much effort. When they parted, he saw what they brought, and the cause of
such commotion. A huge white wolf.
Held with the beast trapped in strong ties corredios sticks, one at a
hand, passed through the animal's head. When the creature tried to invest
one direction, was pushed to the opposite side, and at a distance
secure sticks.
Stephen recognized the animal immediately. It was the wolf that found in
forest. His men had seen again the walls of the fortress, but he refused to come closer. Until that
moment. And was captured.
It was a magnificent creature, completely white coat. He had the
eyes he had seen the wolves in the mountains of Europe, but of a gray
silver, the color of the fog. Struggled with the strength of ten dogs, and the depleted
four men who fought to contain it.
- The animal was attacking the crops of peasants. Lost livestock and
sheep. Knocked a man off his horse and killed. We got him
trapped on the outside of the gates.
Exhausted, the wolf hung between the laces, tongue hanging from one side of
mouth, breathing heavily. The silver eyes had no
wild expression, but an air of wisdom looking at Stephen. by
Everywhere, there arose cries for the animal to be sacrificed.
- No! Please do not! - Cassandra yelled while jumping from the chair and give back
the table.


Several men tried to stop her, raising his sword to block her
passage.
Even as I was exhausted, the animal seemed to explode with sudden energy.
The bonds tightened every frantic movement, as men
tried to contain the mighty wolf. Suddenly, the blood began to drip
of its snout. It was as if struggling to achieve Cassandra. To protect her.
Do not fight with them, Cassandra cried, in his thoughts, but not the wolf
could hear her.
She pushed a warrior, challenged each other to fight to get to the wolf,
risking their lives against the swords at the ready. Turned his head
direction of Stephen, her hair the color of midnight to frame the features
and pale violet eyes pleading.
What he saw in that look? Capitulation? Never. Sadness by pitying
wolf? Possibly. So that would fit in the animal, Stephen saw a
advantage they could use in their favor.
- Stop it! - Ordered. - Let her go.
Saw the surprise that came in vivid eyes. Cassandra turned and pushed
another warrior. The elbows, advanced to the space that had opened in
around the wolf.
Robbed of their gifts, she was forced to rely on the deadly skills.
Prayed that Fallon would listen. Mentally begged him to
calm down, because I never seen him like that.
Whistled softly, a familiar sound between the two. Same then the wolf struggling, growling and
grunting increasingly suffocated as he struggled.
- Let him go! - She begged. - You are the strangling. The more
pull, the more he will fight. - He turned to Stephen, her heart in her eyes. -
Please!
That simple word and torment you saw those eyes, he had the impression that Cassandra was the
wolf begging for his life, and that those ties encircled his neck as the enchantment
held her wrist.
- He will not hurt anyone! Please, they are killing it!
With a glance at his men, Stephen agreed. All, except the
two that kept the wolf by the bonds, moved away to a distance
safe, swords drawn.
Finally, one of them put his stick on the ground.
The other also. The animal turned his head first in one direction and then in
another, flicking his nose repeatedly to get rid of the weight of the rods.
Cassie whistled softly. There was no answer. Fallon simply
continued posted there, panting, his mouth taut against
teeth, the bloody dripping from the corners of his mouth foam. she hissed
again and began to surround him.
He followed the movement, his head down, a stare and glazed over
Cassandra. Growled.
- He'll shred it - Stephen warned.
- Do not go! - She said vehemently. - He knows me. Do not make me
evil. - Although he had his doubts continued to surround the wolf power
face him.
For the first time ever, Fallon had been mistreated and abused. although it was
an extraordinary creature, shall ensure that Cassandra and protected him with
impressive skills, it was still ruled by the wolf within
which dwelt, wild at heart, wary of mortal man,
justifiably.
Now, the special bond that always had called off the upset. Cassandra does not
could reach him in thought as she always had, communicate
with him the instinctive way of all creatures. Now she had
only human capacities. Did not even know if Fallon would know
that mortal form. But would risk his own life to save his.
Whistled a third time and then uttered the words that always
had linked:
- Relax, old friend. I will not hurt you.
- Come closer and
bent, hands and knees on the floor, up the Drag -like animals that
show subservience to the more powerful and stronger. slowly
approached him. The corner of his eye, he saw the glint of a sword and
wondered if it was for himself or for the wolf.
Still on all fours, went further.
- I am old friend. You know me - spoke softly. - walked
the trails and meadows of the forest. We hunted together. You know me,
Fallon.
Was now only a few inches of the wolf. Aga chou-up and lay down
aside, imitating the dogs when together, and reached for it
you could smell it. If I was wrong, if by no more existed between the two,
any plan would then be dead.
- Come on, Fallon - muttered and hissed again, stretching a bit
more hand. He drew back, hesitating, his mouth to pucker a snarl.
Cassandra hissed again, creeping slowly closer.
Saw the moment Fallon accepted it. That sudden recognition in
looking exhausted confusion and then the low howl, throat in response. The
posture changed, rigid muscles loosened, the tail swung, the
ears pricked.
- Come, Fallon, you know me.

The wolf felt his smell and stretched his muzzle. Took a hesitant step towards
forward and then another. The ears ducked. Howled softly and
approached. After a single touch of slender fingers in Cassandra
coat on the neck, the wolf fell to the ground, his head in her lap.
- Bring me some water, please.
The request was whispered calmly and authority such that several
men stepped forward. Soon, a bowl of water was pushed in
direction of Cassandra.
She put some water in the palm and let the liquid
dripped in mouth panting wolf. The water mixed with the foam and
and her blood stained dress. Cassandra gave him more water,
looking eyes narrowed for any sign of reaction.
- You cannot die, my friend - muttered to give him more water. - I
I need you. Please Fallon.

Finally, the animal's breathing calmed. His tongue licked the water from
Cassandra fingers and wise eyes opened, staring at her with
recognition. The tail moved slowly. And the wolf struggled to
stand, causing everyone in the room to retreat.
- It does not hurt anything - Cassandra told them. But could not
convince them. Finally, Monroe Truan forward fearlessly for the wolf.
Crouched until, as she was at the same level, as equals,
with the creature.
- Hello, Fallon - he said softly. - It is a beautiful animal, but I'm not me
downgrade for you. You must accept me as I am, and I'll do the same.
The wolf nodded, his silver eyes to sparkle. Slowly extended
his nose, catching the scent of man. Did not shrink as you would before
any mortal, but the ears folded forward in acceptance.
- Do you think he believed me? - Truan asked, staring
Cassandra with that air of cheerful silly.
- Maybe he's more fool you, approaching an animal that
way.

- Why not? You did the same thing.
- He knows me. I created little since. There's no reason to have
afraid of me.
- Not me - Truan replied in a solemn tone, leaving Cassandra
impressed with the sudden intensity of those blue eyes. Then he
smiled, and the air turned silly. - Animals like me. rabbits, birds and such.

Amber approached, leaving the wolf to sniff.
- The animal is still wild - a men's Stephen pondered. -
Killed many animals and now a man.
- Not true! - Cassandra vehemently defended the wolf. - He hunts
only in the forest, or eat what I give you. Never attacked any
farm or village. And never attack people, unless they were threatened. -
He looked around and saw that not convinced anyone. - See how I accepted.
He is housebroken. There is nothing to fear! - Had her powers, she's
convince with a simple thought. But only had his word and
sincerity that sprang from his heart. Not bear it if anything
happened to Fallon.

- Please! - Cassandra begged again as he turned to Stephen, the
realizing that he had no reason to trust her after
what had made him. Pleaded with the look, to spare the animal.
- Put the guns - he ordered the men, after thinking for
some time. - We'll see about that his wolf lady - said. - But
until we know how its true nature and behavior, he
remains confined.
The thought disgusted. Fallon had never been confined, had freedom of
run through the region and even the halls of Tregaron. With her powers, she
could make sure that the wolf was not seen. Only once he frightened
a servant, had entered unannounced and come upon the wolf at the foot of
bed.
Cassandra accepted the terms, knowing it was equally dangerous to
Fallon back to the forest. Would certainly hunted and killed.
- Very well, I agree.
- Do not ask for your agreement, lady. Are my own terms, because
you're also a prisoner, as the animal.
- I only ask one more thing - she amended.
- What is it?
- May I have permission to take care of him because not accept food
anyone.
Old Meg stood beside Stephen and grabbed her arm. appeared
from nowhere, without even a noise. It was always a little disconcerting to
how did that. The way you act and those colorless eyes. although
Lady Vivian assure that the old woman was blind, Stephen was not sure.
- This can be reverted to our advantage - Meg whispered to feel
Stephen gave him all the attention.
That mortal, whose skeins of life were intertwined with daughter
Light, survived to what few mortals had overcome: a
battle with a creature of Darkness which caused such terror and
held so much power that most men never dreamed.
Survived, but did not escape unscathed, as his body kept scars that meeting, the horrible teeth
marks that had torn their flesh when he turns deprived of their weapons, one by one,
until they left just what had to face the darkness: his courage.

It was for this reason that he was chosen, as the others had been
chosen by the guardians, though Stephen did not know. I thought that
I just needed to find the daughter of Light and convince her to accept the legacy
it should perform.
- Explain yourself, woman.
Meg smiled, because underneath the shield warrior, within the heart of
Stephen felt a violent passion. A passion just recently
envisioned and had awakened in that one kiss. Realized that other
Tear off skein woven by Cosmic.

- She will not bend by force. Have you ever seen that is so - Meg pondered. -
It is much better to have the cooperation of the girl than her enmity. - felt
he responded favorably and continued: - You have the hands of luck
Cassandra something that greatly values. And it needs the collaboration. Use a
thing to gain another. And remember: once you make a Cassandra
promise will be kept.
Stephen realized the intention of old. Cassandra was grateful for it
save the wolf. As would be more grateful if he could preserve the welfare
Animal?

- I agree with what you ask for, since I have your word that you do not
try to flee - said Stephen.
Saw the play of emotions in the expression of Cassandra, the revealed inner struggle
in every line of his face. And the moment they capitulated.
- Okay - she replied, rigid, the look stuck in Fallon, now
Post, tranquil, at his side. - Do not try to escape.

- Do I have your word?
- Yes
- Say it with all the letters.
The violet eyes flashed angry when Cassandra stared.
- You have my word that I will not try to escape.
Stephen nodded and then turned to Gavin, who gave instructions to
arrange an appropriate place for the wolf.
Until he was sure of the true nature of the animal, it should be
confined. At the moment Gayin approached hesitantly Fallon
growled.

- I need to join you - Cassandra said. - Unless your man
wants to lose an arm. - Saw the refusal in the eyes of Stephen and then used
's own words against him - after all, my lord, you have my promise
I'll try not escape.
- He remains guarded - Margeaux commented when Cassandra
returned to the bedroom and found the adoptive sister to wait for her.
Cassie closed the door quickly. It was the first direct contact with the sister in
more than two weeks since they were there.

- And you are not saved at all, it seems - said in a low voice, to
approaching.
- I'm so guarded as you, but I learned to show humility
for the guards. And I began to cry with female problems - explained, eyes with a veiled expression.

I complained so painfully that they were happy to let me come to the
your room. - Snorted. - No other women, except that old witch and
the mute girl, were happy to do something to ease my
suffering. You would do better to use similar means in our
advantage.

Margeaux crossed the room, leaned against the door to make sure that
Nobody listened and then turned and stared Cassandra.
- You put us in danger with his rebellious ways. If it continues,
Stephen Lord put us in cages crows and leave us there, so that
devoured to the bones. But, if you cooperate, then maybe he thinks he is worth
worth negotiate our freedom.

Cassandra shook her head.
- John will not negotiate our release.
- Sure negotiate! - Margeaux exclaimed indignantly.
- And to separate a little of your precious gold?
- Malagraine everythings - Margeaux said confidently. - And John
not dare to challenge the prince Malagraine. Will marshal all
nobles and Saxon rebels against the army of the English king, and this fortress
is reduced to powder.
- How do you know? - Cassie asked, suspicious of certainty
Margeaux. - What do you mean?
- guarantee our freedom because I have something Malagraine
wants more than anything else-His eyes flashed.
- His son.
- Son? - Cassandra repeated incredulously. - What are you talking about?
Everyone knew that over the years of his marriage to Princess
Welsh, no child was conceived. And there were rumors that no
the lovers become pregnant because Malagraine not hesitate to get away from
a wife and take another, if carrying his child. But this does not
happened. Malagraine had no heir to succeed him.
Margeaux smiled to smooth the soft wool dress over her belly. slowly
understanding awakened Cassandra, with images of naked Margeaux,
being possessed by Malagraine.

- And what was the women's complaint that convinced the guards to bring her
here?
Cassandra Margeaux found it impossible to believe that she was pregnant. not
was nothing in his appearance to suggest it.
- They did not want to hear the details. They are like any man and
were eager to prevent me to be groaning in his ears.

- Stephen Lord knows it?
- I'll know when it's convenient.
- But how can you be sure you will be aware Malagraine?
- There is always a way - Margeaux responded in a noncommittal way. -
No one is absolutely loyal. All

has its price. But you need to cooperate. Will do no good if he in
launch a dungeon or in chains because you cannot keep
tongue inside the mouth and not behave in a civilized manner.

- I gave my word I would not try to escape - Cassie recalled.
- His word? - Margeaux laughed. - A lie
appropriate given a particular moment in exchange for something you
wanted. You are a prisoner. Nobody expects you to feel connected to such a
promise.

- I hope and feel connected. I cannot break my promise.
- All the life of a useless man? A wolf and a guy who will be killed
when it suits those warriors? Who's the fool, my dear?
- He gave his word that Fallon would be spared. I trust that.
- Do as you please-Margeaux said scornfully. - But nothing
jeopardize our escape. - He shook his head. - Have you ever been
strange, always protecting. Is it any wonder that some man
looked favorably.

Her stepsister had always sharp tongue. Only with her Malagraine
was careful with every word, controlling for it does not really
offended when he was booked in Tregaron. And now, for some
reason, those words had gotten hurt Cassandra
deeply.

- When you're gone? - Cassie asked.
- Soon I hope. I cannot stand these warriors with their modes
strange and weird habits.

Cassie smiled inwardly, wondering if her sister spoke of unusual discipline,
loyalty and firmness of the young lord Stephen, he was sure that his brother
adoptive never won such loyalty. His own army was composed
mostly of mercenaries and Saxons who had fled the borders of
West after the death of King Harold. The nobles hardly Welsh
would be better, too influenced by the likes of Malagraine
fight a war for which they had no ability nor hope
win.
But why continue a war that could not be won? as
always those last few weeks, there was no response to their
thoughts.
There was a noise at the door. Not kept longer locked from the outside.
On this, at least, Cassandra was not treated as a prisoner. Margeaux the
looked with eyes flashing and retreated to the shadows.
Old Meg stopped at the bedroom door and immediately felt the presence of
Cassandra, who had come into line in recent weeks. The
withdrawal Cassie had been replaced by acceptance, after the wolf
been spared. But his senses told him there was someone else there
too. Someone who lurked in the shadows. Turned to Cassandra,
guided by the aura that was like a golden sun on a deep darkness.

If only she knew of his legacy and accept, Meg thought, with
a growing sense of urgency. Time was running out. So, there should
be persuaded to accept his fate.
- My lord wishes to see her - said, senses alert to the presence of latent
it was like a shadow that blocked the sun.

Since that night when Fallon had been dragged to the salon, Cassandra
expected to meet again with Stephen. There were questions
remained unanswered. Who was he? What did it? that
Enchantment was the one who had no powers at all?
But Stephen had not had time to talk to her in recent weeks,
as the last repairs were made in the fortress, against any
attack. Almost every day, more people arrived, many young people wanting
take up arms against John of Tregaron and Prince Malagraine.
The population of Camelot grew like a swarm. Lord Stephen had not
no intention to withdraw or surrender. Cassandra had heard rumors
he made plans for war, knowing that the day should come
Malagraine that would unite their forces and attack.

- I'll be glad to meet with him - said the old woman, to go out soon
so that Meg could not enter. - Go with me? - Asked.
- I'm an old - replied Meg - My bones ache with every step
give. He asked you to find the starry chamber. said
know the reason.

Cassie looked hesitantly at the door of the room. If you act in a manner that
arouse suspicion, Meg could go and find Margeaux. Agreed.
- I know well. - He turned away, praying that Margeaux had the good sense
to stay hidden for some time, until the old go.
Once Cassandra was gone, Meg still felt that presence in the air.
Frowned glad that Cassie was not the gloomy aura that
captured, but at the same time worried. Did you look for
room, but then hesitated.
Inside, Margeaux waited to hear no more voices. Would leave the room
when suddenly a wave of pain dominated, so violently that she fell
knees. The pain was centered in her womb and rend it seemed as if
some creature snatch her insides, trying to get out. The sweat ran his
forehead, while a sticky cold invaded. He felt the
nausea rising in her throat and fought for control. hated being
sick.
His hand stroked her belly, quivering. After all the times he had been
with Malagraine, lost hope of conceiving a child. Even was sure to be pregnant now,
for they had lain made few weeks.

He knew nothing about what was to carry a child in the womb and had
horror to think that her body could be distorted and huge. however
that son promised much more than she expected. His eyes twinkled
to think about the power they have at their fingertips. Logo Malagraine know
the fact, perhaps even at that time the news were being drawn to it.

And when they knew, would send rescue her.
Cassandra had not been on the starry chamber since the last time
Stephen Fallon and his men had taken to Camelot, then populated the
ghosts and crumbling. Like the rest of the fortress, she discovered that the room
meetings of Arthur and his knights was very changed.
Debris and ruins of centuries were no longer there. the walls
shone clear and golden, the floor polished and gleaming malachite.
Candle holders of the height of a man were standing by the perimeter
camera, the flames flicker with air blast when she opened the
port. After continued to burn, firm again when the door
closed.

Cassandra stopped at the entrance, remembering that another meeting
weeks earlier. The memory made her look up at the ceiling. out
also repaired with patches of thatch to cover the holes.
He felt a wave of disappointment to think of the first time
find Stephen de Valois, after traveling back through the portal.
Since then, it seemed that their lives were inexorably intertwined.
And now, she was his prisoner.
He rubbed his finger over the blue tape was wrapped around his wrist, thinking of
again the source of his power.
It was the power of Darkness, as Elora always warned as a child? or
someone else had? And for what purpose?

Climbed the steps to the camera that always attracted her as a child as
a star guide. By circulating the room, ran her fingers through walls
smooth, cutting close to the clear stones that reflected the candlelight and the
Stars to shine at the top, making it look like that place encompassed all
known universe.
The Voice had brought her there when small, as if something waited. Ali
Warriors discovered, there was so much dead time, who gave their lives for
ancient king. A legendary castle, legendary warriors, a legendary king. all
real. All to expect that old place.
Cassandra felt them the presence, other voices calling for him to
remembered. They were like the misty images that appeared in your dreams,
faces of which should be remembered, but could not. I felt an incredible
loneliness in those last moments before sleep, every night when
Elora sat in the rocking chair and Fallon lay at the foot of the bed.
And even the loving presence of both eased the pain that filled his
mortal heart and brought tears to her eyes.

The wolf and the old were her only company, then. That place off your
hiding place, a secret place of legend and myth, where she and Fallon
roamed. In your imagination, fueled by stories of Elora,
Cassandra saw as outside the fortress, full of life, and with horsemen
brave warriors, one blissful queen who was loved by a powerful
King. And in her imagination, there was no betrayal. King and Queen did not
died, but lived forever. Then, come the day that she should
make the journey through the mist to that other secret place.

The place that Elora
always spoke. The place where Cassandra was born. She, however, had refused
stubbornly declaring that he had no parents. If I did, how could they have her
abandoned? How would not hear his thoughts, full of desire
be with them? Not know how the tears of loneliness she
shed every night? Wanted nothing of those heartless creatures
and closed his thoughts to all entreaties Elora, as well
for those gentle voices that spoke of love.

There, now, Cassandra was truly alone, with Fallon
trapped in a cage, and without even the powers that had been born to
protect it. Saw the flames shiver and turned when Stephen
Valois slowly down the steps.

He had been watching her at the entrance of the camera, trying to capture his spirit,
as he did every day in the last two weeks since it had granted
life wolf. Gradually, given her more freedom, as long as one of
his men to follow him. And the old Meg was also her company,
trying to convince her through the sharing of thoughts and
memories of his family and the fate that awaited her.
Time was running out, the old woman warned. Every day the power of Darkness
increased. She warned him that morning that day no longer
showed full of light. Stephen scorned the warning, saying it was
only the change of season. Winter was at hand, but even
so he could not deny that a strange darkness seemed hover over the earth, just beyond
the castle walls, as if kept at away by some unseen hand.

And meanwhile, the rumor about the army Malagraine meeting.
In brief, the steps in the mountains surrounding the valley would be closed
by blizzards. But with the arrival of spring came the certainty of
war.

Cassandra turned, the flame of a candle next to be reflected in
those deep violet eyes. Had a wary expression, but without
the usual suspicion.
- Sent for me, my lord?

- A request, Cassandra, not an order - Stephen said, hoping
this time was different, they could find some level of
understanding instead of discord that constantly confronted: the application of Cassandra him to
remove the spell and Stephen refuses to do so.

- A request in exchange for the lives of those now, my lord?
- A simple request, not in exchange for a life, but the donation of a
life to do with it what you want - he explained as he approached,
one of his hands deep into the garment such that for a brief
moment, Cassandra feared that he might be injured.
Took out of his robe a little ball of fur nestled in the palm of
hand. Was huddled, curled tail to snout, being impossible to say
which was the beginning and the end. The body was dark, with lighter stripes to
scratching a lot that could be the tail. The hairball trembling. for a
moment, all the animosity between the two was forgotten.

Unashamedly Cassandra reached out to stroke the pet.
Masked spied a small muzzle the hair bun. Two dark eyes
stared at her, powerless even to show fear. The poor creature was
dying.
- A peasant found the nest in a Haystack - Stephen
explained, while Cassandra stroked the soft skin. - Two other cubs
were dead. The mother did not appear. This was the only one left alive.
- And not for long - she said, softly, to let the puppy
Raccoon you smell, knowing instinctively that fear could
kill as easily as weakness from lack of food or any other
illness that the little creature suffer. - Why did you bring him here?
- You seem to have a way with animals. A gift - he explained the thinking in
Her other sister, who also possessed the power of healing. - They trust
You.

- Because they have no reason to distrust - Cassandra replied,
roughness. - Do not knock them or let them starve or attach them with
ties nor the use to get something I want.
Looked at each other for a moment over the furball still nested
Stephen's hand, against the warmth of his chest. And he wondered how the
powers of perception Cassandra still possessed.
- If you do not want to take care of the pet, send it to be returned to the lot
hay. Maybe the mother back to pick it up.

- She will not come back! - Cassie exclaimed, with an expression of suffering in
look. - Once abandoned offspring, will not return. Because of the
smell of people within the walls. The hay was brought in,
she ran away in fear. The puppies have already been forgotten. Things are well.
I'll stay with this poor creature, though I doubt he can live. It is very
small and weak.

- But with a brave heart - Stephen commented, showing the mark of
bite on the finger. - Took a good chunk of me for my efforts.
- No doubt deserved - Cassandra muttered. - He needs to
used to my scent so that you can accept me - explained to run fingers lightly over the
soft fur of the animal. Then blew, heating with his breath the air that
breathing creature.

The touch of your fingers, the shiny satin hair falling around her shoulders
Cassandra and brush the sleeve of Stephen, the sweet breath to escape
between the parted lips, everything reminded that last meeting and taste
that kiss. At that moment, connected by trembling creature, there was anger
between them, only the heat shared. Stephen lowered his head, the silk of
Cassandra hair brushing against her face, her lips so close that he
would just turn to face you taste it again.

- Yes, undoubtedly deserved - Stephen muttered to think how
hurt and humiliated.
Cassandra looked up, a violet fire ponds, and, for a moment,
settled that experienced bond weeks before, in the hallway of the court in London, where he met
and
followed by the portal to where they were now. His lips
parted, his breath warm to you when provoke murmured:
Milord, I ...
Stephen saw the confusion in his voice, heard the warning of his own
heart that it would be unwise to take advantage of the situation, but ignored
all while sliding your fingers through the curtain of those hairs.
Cassandra's breathing became panting. And she raised her hand in
protest, as he gently held her by the scruff. The violet eyes
nailed in fleshy lips of Stephen and Cassandra let out a
request that afflicted both knew he would not listen.
- Please ...
Whatever it was what she would say was muffled by the kiss of Stephen. its
mouth landed on Cassandra. With fingertips, gently
parted her lips. With a groan of pleasure, crept inside,
stroking and dive into the silky warmth of moist cavity until all
felt she was, all sweetness and smoothness.
Cassandra put her hand on the chest of Stephen, trembling as the worm could
he had given her. She put an end to kiss to get away suddenly. but his
fog gaze, and it was a blazing fire. Her breasts heaved under
dress, her skin burned a blush that was neither embarrassment
or humiliation.
- If you can save the pet, can I keep it? - Cassandra asked.

- Can, in exchange for a small favor.
Stephen saw the caution and then anger that immediately sprang to the eye
Cassandra and knew what she was thinking. He tried to seduce her
for something.
- There is always a price, it is not, my lord? - Cassandra muttered angrily.
- I only ask you to take this and look carefully. - From the desk of Stephen
took a roll of fabric. The tapestry that Lady Vivian and he had woven
brought from London.
- A gift? - The irony was back, along with anger. - Not thought
he was so generous.
- Lack too little time, Cassandra. Maybe just a few weeks.
This has been sent ...
- I do not need such things - she snapped angrily. - After all, I am a
prisoner. What need have a prisoner in such ornaments? -
Caught the raccoon and cradled it in the curve of her breasts. - Thank you for the bug,
my lord. - He turned and ran out of the starry chamber.
- Damn! - Stephen muttered. Felt the vibration of the air in the room and
then curved shape that slowly climbed the steps.
- She refused to look at the tapestry - Meg murmured sadly, already
without the need of knowing the roll still see Stephen hands. -
Need to find a way warrior. Or all is lost.
Meg turns a child, not yet born, or that would bring hope
for the future or the end of it.

Chapter VI

- Someone told her that it is not the first woman to carry a child? -
said the old Meg to put more wood on the hearth.
- It would not have mattered - Cassandra replied. - Margeaux does not tolerate
discomfort. And indeed, this confinement it seems particularly
difficult. Wet the mouth of the adoptive sister, who looked gravely ill.
It was a few weeks Margeaux announced that expecting a child
of Malagraine, but seemed to be pregnant a few months. She had been bedridden
from the beginning, with a complaint after another, the body to swell
fast, so that their stomach was rounded visible pregnancy
under the dress.
To make matters worse, it snowed incessantly, leaving all confined to
castle walls. Even to go from one building to another, it was difficult to
Unless the path to be clean.
- This remedy herb is useless - Cassandra muttered in frustration. - She
is becoming weaker and more irritated.
Meg snorted.
- A natural condition, as I understand. Cassandra smiled, despite the
fatigue he felt after taking care of her sister every evening. if not
were the old and the girl, Amber, would have gone crazy in recent weeks,
contained in the same place Margeaux.
In many ways, the old Meg was Cassandra remember Elora. in
quiet company of old, she found something she had lost when Elora
died. Amber was infinite patience and cared for when Margeaux
Cassandra needed rest. Often played, instead of being
changes, the girl could be deaf not to have heard so many complaints.
Amber seemed sister Cassandra never had therefore hardly Margeaux would fit this condition.
Even the pet, Pippen, who survived and now miraculously
ran around the room with excitement, making mischief like any raccoon
had to hide in the woodpile or under the furs in bed
when complaints of Margeaux became boring and annoying.
Cassandra caught him and put him on the shoulder Amber.
- I'll be back - he said - with the remedy that will relieve the discomfort of
Margeaux, or swear she will not survive another night.
- Otherwise - Meg amended - I can even give it out.
- You all hate me - Margeaux groaned and then started crying.
- They think I'm this way because I want to?

I wish I could take this child out of me now.
- I believe - said Meg - you get what you deserve for lying with a
man. And someone disgusting like that one.
Everyone knew Malagraine was the father because Margeaux spared no one
their conversations as the prince would rescue her when he knew
expecting his child. That had been weeks before. And there had been no
News Malagraine or brother. And winter arrived.
- Hurry up - Meg said Cassandra. - Speak with Lord Stephen!
Cassandra closed the door once again amazed to not feel the current
cold air that was always in the halls of Tregaron. Camelot out
built to take advantage of the sun's heat in the winter and enjoy the
cool breezes in summer.

After searching the room, was informed by one of his men who
Stephen was in the starry chamber. Cassandra came unannounced and
stopped, surprised, to see him reunited with his knights around the table
round.
Stephen rose, for the twelve chairs that surrounded the Table
Round. One is found empty. Sir Gavin off with his men
check the steps of the mountain. Should be back soon. Cassandra
turned to leave. It was rare to find, even rarer that she
sought.
- Do not go, lady. We're done. - Riders and Truan Monroe rose from chairs and got maps,
charts and weapons. Always had the weapons at hand.

- It is no small matter - Cassandra said hesitantly,
as the men passed through it and left. - It's about Lady Margeaux.
- What?
- She's not well. Are pregnant. Some women go very badly. there
remedies that could alleviate her discomfort.
- And without doubt the claims too? - Stephen asked, because the
Old Meg made no secret of his pet peeve with that woman.
- It would be an added benefit - Cassandra admitted.
- For all of us.

She lifted her eyes to the tone of voice of Stephen laugh, and we saw played
by that understanding and full of sympathy smile.
- What do you need?
- What need cannot be found within the castle walls. It
a tuber that grows in the forest. It has a purple leaf, but the potato
grows underground, contains the remedy that can relieve the discomfort of
Margeaux.
- Meg threatened to make her shut up, right?
- If I do not return soon, said he would kill her.
- No man in Camelot to blame for it.
- No man has waited a child - Cassandra replied in defense of
womanhood. - It is a great burden carrying a child and put him safely in the world.
- Many men do not fear pain. That answer surprised.
- Would trade places with a woman and would generate a child, if you could?
He thought of Rorke Fitzwarren, who was like an older brother, and
agony suffered during pregnancy problematic Lady Vivian.
- How can you say that a man does not suffer, perhaps more, in your
impotence, observing the woman who loves to spend such agony?
- I cannot imagine a love like that - she answered honestly.
The son of Margeaux was not generated by love but by cold ambition. And
Cassandra thought of the parents, who knew little, wondering if his father
loved his mother so.

- Neither do I - Stephen murmured, too frankly. - But I have seen. I saw a
Warrior become humble and kneel, begging God to take his
life in exchange for the life of your loved one.
- Can I have the remedy?
- I'll have to bring him to you.
- Thank you. - She turned, eager to end the conversation. The subject
about the troubled love.
- In return, I ask one thing.
It was always so. All implied a bargain. Something given for something
exchange. Cassandra turned slowly, imagining what would be the price.

Waited when Stephen came around the table and approached.
He noticed a subtle change in the breath of Cassandra, the heaving breasts,
how averted his eyes, dry mouth and ran his tongue as
the lower lip. He reached out and took her hand, feeling that she
recoiled instinctively. He held her firmly, turning the palm upward.
- Our bargain is - said and put a cloth wrapped around the open hand -
you have the remedy you need in exchange for agreeing to look at
tapestry.
Cassandra thought about Margeaux. It seemed a small price to pay to relieve
discomfort that her sister was imposing at all.
- All right, I agree.

- Go look carefully - Stephen insisted.
- I'll look. - He gave her no opportunity to add other conditions,
they turned and ran down the stairs and out of the room.
He returned to his own room for a brief moment and put aside
rolled tapestry. Went back to the room Margeaux, when the firelight in
brazier reflected in skeins hanging from the end of the roll embroidery.
Wonderful colors were immediately attracted his eyes and
hands. When getting wires, they glowed in various nuances, as
have life. As if trying to touch her. Cassandra would drop the track
held the roll when Amber appeared at the door. Given the expression
pleading the girl, the tapestry was forgotten.

As the word striven, Stephen sent a hunter, familiar
with the forest surrounding Camelot, until the room Margeaux. Cassandra
vividly described the plan I wanted, explaining that the tubercle
needed to be intact, as was the potato that contained the medicine that
Margeaux needed.

The man returned in the late afternoon, with the plant she asked. Cassandra
prepared an herbal tea with a piece of the tuber, keeping the rest in
damp cloth to keep it. Then he gave the tea stepsister.
It was a bitter brew, the kind that makes one wonder what is
worse, the disease or the cure. Margeaux, however, had no choice nor was
in a position to protest. The medication took effect immediately and soon she slept
quietly, to calm everyone.
Cassandra took a woollen mantle Meg brought her another day. its
ached to be folded back on the bed of the most Margeaux
day. The robe was a fine wool in tones of deep blue and fabric with
delicate silver threads. When asked where Meg gotten a piece
so thin, the old had shrugged.

- I thought there. Nobody wanted and is very large for me.
When Cassandra put the robe on his shoulders and tied to the bonds
protect from cold, Pippen crossed the room and ducked under his
skirts. She felt him rolling on his ankle.
- Okay, you can come. - How to understand, Pippen ran to the door when opened Cassandra, both
eager for Cold winter air.

Snowed constantly for the last week, and the time had fastened only
that morning. Cassandra through the gate without any problems, when the
guard recognized. As always, he felt the shadow that accompanied the
a few steps away.
She lifted her face to the winter sun, feeling the warmth penetrate her until
bones, as already cold last long rather than the first
storm season. The blood seemed to run more strongly in their
veins.
Pippen seemed to capture his spirit. Although it had doubled in size, not yet able to walk
through the snow reaching to the knees Cassandra.
Jumped from a footprint to another, disappearing completely
into each hole. Logo stood back and began to shriek. Cassandra
returned, rescued the pet and put him on the shoulder, under the hood,
with him pointing his nose out in search of each new smell, eyes
sharp as a hawk.
With the blizzard, it was very important that Cassandra was to the shelter where
Fallon was arrested. She saw twice daily. By nature, the wolf was
a wild creature and showed increasingly uneasy with that
confinement. Unable to hunt for themselves, the animal's survival depended
Cassandra.
Although natural enemies in essence, Fallon accepted Pippen without restrictions.
The raccoon passed through the crevices of the cage and curled legs, wolf
without imagining that should behave differently.
- How is my old friend? - Cassandra asked to open the gate
and drop the wolf. He approached, and she hugged him, her face buried in the fur
Neck Fallon, communicating with it by touch, by scent and
the sounds. The wolf growled softly, while Cassandra responded with
kind words. Then he pulled her by the hair, an easy game.
- You want to play!
Cassandra laughed and laughed even more when Pippen jumped by snow and curled
a furball.

- Come on, Fallon - she called, as he sniffed the puppy
balled. - You're bigger than him and more known.
The wolf looked at her with those silver eyes, the jaws taut as
smile. Then shoved Pippen, rolling it through the snow. Pippen was rolling
a slope until it stops. He raised his head, his bright little eyes seeming to ask
however.
Cassandra laughed and called them, without realizing that it had become the center of
attention of farmers and warriors, who stopped working for
observe the strange and beautiful young woman who was a prisoner in Camelot to play in
snow with a wolf and a raccoon.
She threw snowballs at Fallon, who caught them with his mouth and shook his
head while Pippen ran around them until they fell and rolled
a ball. The wolf threw himself on Cassandra, narrowly missing in
overturn it, while jumping through the snow. Her face was flushed, happy expression,
black hair flecked with snow.
Stephen watched the game from afar. Cassandra was like a child,
innocent and pure, without evil, as they had warned. how was
possible that a petty heart coexisted with much laughter? with
such innocence and joy? With such passion?
As his men, he felt bewitched, enchanted by the lightness and
Cassandra happiness, and, like them, attracted to her. He crossed the courtyard and
slowly approached the open space in the outdoor area where your men usually exercised.
He carried a basket picking up with peasant in a cart.
- It's hard to tell who is who with so much snow - Stephen commented when
approached the trio.
Cassandra sat down in the snow. Her hair and eyelashes flecked ice.
His lips glistened, eyes sparkled.
Fallon felt the smell of meat from the basket and admiration for Cassandra,
approached without hesitation.
- But it is not hard to tell who is the traitor.
She knelt down and fell back to tangle in skirts and pulled by
weight of the mantle. Pippen came and, more cautious, sniffed the apple
Stephen held in outstretched fingers.
- You too? - Cassandra said, giving up on getting out of snow
soft. - I am surrounded by traitors whose affections can be bought with a
single morsel of food.
- More than just a morsel of food Stephen
confessed to extend other leg of venison to the wolf. - Among the food
you give him and I bring you the wonder that the wolf has not
fattened like a monk. Surprised at the look of Cassandra, Stephen
shrugged.
- I told him he needed to be arrested, you should not go hungry. beyond
that you did not fulfill your end of the bargain. The wolf is not stuck.
- What about Pippen? - She asked. - You turned him into a traitor
also?
- He's a bastard thief. Just last week, I lost several
medallions and stone with an unusual inscription.
- Pippen loves shiny objects - Cassandra admitted. - I'm teaching
to be more selective. Just get gold coins. Preferably, the king
Guilherme.
- If you happen to find my belt, it would be good to give it back. I
necessary to prevent my pants from falling ankles.
- It would be both an overview and. The lord of Camelot demoralized by a
raccoon.
- Lord of Camelot?
- Not what it is, with his knights of the Round Table?
Stephen reached out to Cassandra.
- I just thought finding a place that is defensible against
Malagraine. If these walls stood for five hundred years, then perhaps
can endure for over five hundred.

She looked at the outstretched hand, thought the snow that soaked his cloak and
accepted the offer. Found himself free of snow, standing so close to Stephen
I could feel his warmth despite the cold afternoon, with the sun below the
walls of the west.
- Talk of a kingdom, my lord.

- I'm not a king - he replied, softly, the embittered voice. - I'm a
disinherited. A man without domains.
- Desdicado - she murmured, recognizing the Latin word which he carried
the shield. Frowned at the memory of a legend when heard
child. - There is a kingdom in the heart, not in earthly possessions. -
Looked at him thoughtfully, as if trying to see through it more.
- I knew that Arthur was a warrior king without land to claim up
Camelot?
- It's a legend - Stephen murmured. - Nothing more.
- Really. Camelot is but a dream, and the Round Table, a
plant stories told to children by the fire at night. -
Cassandra raised her skirts and bar soggy blanket of snow and
called by Fallon.

The wolf, however, did not come promptly. Had pricked the ears,
muscles tense, her gaze fixed silvery toward the main gates.
Then a scream rang out in the watchtowers. A group of horsemen is
approached.
Warriors and Knights gathered in the courtyard. The inhabitants of Camelot
came out of their cabins and huts, stoves lit in the main hall
castle. A sign was given to the gate tower.
Sir Gavin and his men were returning. the gates
slowly opened, downloaded by thick ropes.
The men who went through the gates could hardly be recognized. Sir
Gavin went ahead, almost obscured by blood on his tunic badge.
Beside him was John Lacey, the exhausted and withered face. Ago, less than
half of the men who had left. Orders were given for the
gates were closed immediately when you realize that no one
vineyard walk.

John Lacey reined his horse and dismounted quickly, but not the
enough to hold Sir Gavin, who fell from the saddle. Stephen held him and
lay on the ground covered with snow.
- What happened?
- We were attacked in northern step between here and Tregaron. Three trims
twenty men. They wore badges or carrying banner, but
just that. - Pulled a helmet with a black plume of the saddle.

- Mercenaries - said Truan approaching. - Were hired by
Malagraine. Ruthless bastards who would sell their souls from their mothers by
a meal. This is the flag they carry. The color of death.
Cassandra knelt beside the Sir Gavin, in the snow, and put his hand in his
forehead. He was burning with fever but cold to the touch of his hand, his eyes
opened.
- I can fight, my lord - and looked beyond said Stephen. -
My sword.
Stephen knelt on the other side.

- No need to fight now, my friend. Calm down, you're home. - Your
gaze met Cassandra.
She lifted the edge of the coat of Sir Gavin. Even the flickering light of the end of
later, he could see the blood that soaked the thick layers of shields, the
flesh open to the bone on his shoulder. Did not understand how he had been able
ride this far. Only the extreme cold had saved, reducing bleeding
and preventing the infection from spreading.
- We need to get him inside. Stephen did not hesitate, hooked his arms under
friend's body and lifted it, though Gavin was heavier and was
with battle armor. Carried him through the courtyard to the main hall.

The others followed, many with injuries. The others got rid of
armor and were feeding. The west wing of the main hall has not
was well protected against the weather. Suffered much damage in the siege of
all those years and there had been sufficient to close the roof of time
timber. Patchwork thatched covering large areas, soaked with weight
snow. Fire struggled to keep warm inside.
- Not here - Cassandra said. - It needs heat.
Stephen headed for the steps he had taken to the room itself. was in
the second floor and had suffered less damage. Was close to room
Cassandra and it was occupied by Margeaux. John Lacey went ahead
and opened the heavy door. Stephen came in and put his friend in bed fur
thick on the brazier.
Cassandra had not seen that room before and hesitated to find that out
king's room. The walls had the old emblem of Arthur and beside the
more delicate emblem of his queen.
But soon forgot everything when passing instructions to set up, asking the
things that would need while Stephen and John Lacey rolled the
robes, battle armor, the chain mail vest and pants
Padded protection until Sir Gavin was lying only a
woolen shirt and tight briefs.
The blood had soaked everything, open cam on the shoulder and chest. she could
see the bone underneath the broken fragments in the wound and fiber
muscle, which was all that protected the heart.
- Father in heaven - John Lacey muttered.
But Stephen did not waste words when you go back to Cassandra. its
tormented face was a mask of emotions that he did not seek
hide.
- Will he live?
Cassandra nodded uncertainly.
- Even if the meat can be sewn, no bone underneath. was
burst. Pieces are buried in the wound. Muscle is everything
protects the heart.
- You have the ability to cure. She agreed.
- With grass and post. But this calls for much more.
- I speak not of herbs and powders. - Stephen's eyes stared up at her. Bones can be
welded until whole and strong again.
The meat can be cured without leaving marks. - Opened the
own robe, revealing a long scar from a wound not much
different from that of Sir Gavin could have taken his life, but he was there,
before her.
Cassandra swallowed.
- I was saved by someone with the gift of healing - Stephen revealed.
- So very lucky. If you can find a healer so bring it
herein.
- There is one here! - He exclaimed, holding her wrist. - The power is
strong in your family. You can save him.
- I have no family. No one who can claim blood ties with me,
I cannot call relatives.
- Then you have what dwells in your heart - Stephen said. - Gavin
has been his friend. Do not let him die.
Cassandra felt her heart break. Stephen did not have to remember it's
friendship of Sir Gavin, when no one had a kind word toward
it.
- It is almost dead. I cannot give him back his life.
- You can save it. While he was still breathing. I've seen it happen.
- Ask others.
- I ask for my friend's life. - And agreed: - Yes, I too.
- What will you do in return?
The anguished expression of Stephen became furious.
- I will not bargain with life of Sir Gavin!
Cassandra stretched pulse, ribbon charm to shine the light of
brazier.
- Let me go. It's the only way I can save it.
Stephen looked at the spell that held the wrist of Cassandra. out
warned that it was the only way he could protect himself if she
had turned to the powers of Darkness.
Under the extended wrist, lay the bloodied body of his friend, who
risked his life many times to protect a rider
inexperienced, reckless and more stubborn than common sense demanded.
That same impulsiveness had brought the country to the West against
orders of the king, and now led the only decision that could be taken, not
regardless of the outcome. Gavin owed their lives. The least that could
do was give her back to life in exchange.
- Be sure to make warrior - Meg murmured beside him, because
heard all the rumors to run between the servants.
Stephen took the pulse of Cassandra. In his look of astonishment, saw
disbelief and then disbelief when he took the knife from his belt and
prepared to cut the blue ribbon. It was not necessary. At the first touch of his
fingers, the tape broke and fell pulse Cassandra.
- I ask only that you honor the oath he swore to heal the wound - he
recalled. - Once a promise is made, must be fulfilled.

- You know a lot of our customs.
- Learned the deadly tip of a sword carried by Warriors
Dark. It was a lesson well learned.
She caught then what Stephen thought, and also what the old thought.
Cassandra were the powers of Darkness, and the enchantment had been used
to protect them against them.
- Honor your promise?
- Sir Gavin is my friend - she said. - You do not need to promise, and
yes trust.

Stephen grabbed her wrist, a warning. In his eyes, saw Cassandra
doubt; in their thoughts, understand the reasons to penetrate his
intimate and revive in his memory, which he had suffered.
- If you do something bad to him, I will kill you.
- Have you seen the procedure?
Stephen nodded, and experienced the painful memory, even after so
time, for it was healing from his own father, the king.
- All others must leave - Cassandra said, sweetly.
While other riders left the hall, Meg said:
- I'll stay. The old methods Although blind, I know. not
fear.
- You can get, but do not interfere.
- Interfere? - Meg snorted. - I'm old. Older than you can imagine. vi
more things than you, with all its powers. I can ease the pain of the warrior. Do what you have
to be done.
The old moved to the other side of the bed. As he knelt, put his hands
bony each side of the head Gavin. Blind eyes closed
as she eased her pain from the unconscious mind. Blinked and arqueouse
when suffering Knight became his own suffering.
- You can get, girl, but do not delay. The vital force is weak in
goals.

- What can I do? - Stephen asked.
- What should be done, only I can do - Cassandra murmured, sentindolhe
anxiety for his friend. She laid her hand on his. - Stand beside as
if it were a battlefield, because if I fail, Gavin will have someone beside
who loved him and fought with him.
She was deeply moved when Stephen took the hand of Sir
Gavin in his, a gesture suit companionship, lives
shared, eternal friendship.
- I'm with you, my friend. How did you shell behind me and
sword at my side, I will be your sword and shield now. - Then he turned
Cassandra for: - Do what must be done.
Weeks she had not summoned the inner powers. But as was
a fountain gushing, guided by their thoughts running through her blood and
to expand to the tip of your fingers. He remembered the first time
discovered the gift of healing. Find a doe with leg broken in the forest.

His innocence will help the animal had to stop
and touch it. The doe had remained perfectly still; and then something mysterious and
Scary happened when the bones were straightened and mended under
the tip of your fingers, and torn flesh closed, leaving only a
mild scarring.
The wounded deer had been lying as if in a deep sleep. Her breath
subsided, the fear was gone. Finally, huge eyes had opened,
and Cassandra had seen them herself. A part of her had become the soul of
creature, and the creature, part of it. Later, rested, with new forces,
Doe left standing.
Cassandra followed the animal, when he departed, under the veiled look
Old, Elora, I saw two deer where before there was only one child and
that accompanied it. Cassandra was five at the time. Already discovered the
thought power, then the knowledge of herbal through Elora
and at that moment, the power of healing. Elora told him that his power was
stronger than any other. Elora was referring to the sisters
Cassandra did not know; The power of Cassandra was strong enough to
open the portal of Time itself.
Now, in a rhythmic murmur, Cassandra began to pronounce the
ancient words, passed from generation to generation. The flames
lamps and the brazier decreased in intensity, the coals glowed,
as the rest. Then she summoned the fire, felt the burn through
itself, boiling blood, which seemed to ignite. In then pressed his fingers against the broken
bone and torn flesh.
Stephen had seen his father be cured that way. Lived the same experience,
sure I was dying. Knew the immense pain and unbearable that
Gavin pervaded even Meg tried to relieve it.
It was worse than the pain of suffering an injury because welding broken
bone, united the ruptured tendons, muscles, flesh, each ending
nervous. Gavin's body convulsed as the fire ran to the
touch of Cassandra.
In thoughts, she had become one with the warrior, felt each fragment
bone as welding in place, each muscle fiber felt
connected to the shattered muscle, tendons back to the natural site
around the bone.
It was a slow process, the mortal body and quite strong, yet so fragile.
Gavin lost a lot of blood. Cassandra could not mend it. for two
sometimes felt that the heart faltered wounded, and cast him strength to
that, once again, the beats sounded in unison with hers.
He opened his eyes, releasing the link that connected to Sir Gavin. Huge weakness invaded it.

Robbed him of all his strength to keep the vital energy within the
warrior. His hands were bloodied when he looked up and
Stephen stared.
The expression of those eyes was not human, nor was the look of Darkness. it
had seen the eyes of evil and knew Well.

Cassandra's eyes were seen on a battlefield. The look
someone who had seen death and lived to tell.
- It's done - she murmured, and then fainted in the arms of
Stephen.
- Get it here - Meg ordered as a general. - She who is proved in
today. Now, need to rest.
When Stephen hesitated, torn between loyalty to his friend and the need
Cassandra, cradled in his arms, Meg assured:
- You saw the power she has. It is stronger than the sisters. your friend
live. Now, Cassandra must regain the energy to what the
lies ahead.
Stephen lifted her up. Turn the power she possessed. He had seen the look
supernatural when looked at him, still dominated by the gift. But the woman who
cradled in her arms looked very human, and suddenly, very fragile and
vulnerable.
Cassandra woke as if emerging from a dream. Pictures populated their
mind, and was flooded by the perception of things around you, beyond
walls of the room, thoughts and dreams of others. And by
Souvenir hours before.
It was night. The light reflected off the walls of pale sandstone, flames coming
that burned in the grate. She recognized the arched window with that
amber glass, high fireplace and double thick skins with heavy
drapery around to protect her like a cocoon.
Knew the place. It was his room, but not the room in Tregaron.

Then gradually it all came back to mind: the afternoon
earlier, the sudden understanding between her and her captor, and then the
return of injured riders. And Sir Gavin dying.
Cassandra shivered and pulled the fur around the body when a
painful weakness to come. It was always like that after its junction
power with a vital force. Then his hand brushed into a heaving body, and
hot breath warmed her fingers. Fallon.
That familiar way, your thoughts came into contact with the
wolf. As she called aloud, he lifted his head, eyes
silver to shine in the darkness. Howled softly.
Cassandra had no idea how to stop the animal out in your room. only
knew he was thankful that he was no longer confined in the cage,
because the night promised another blizzard and feared by him without a shelter
appropriate.
- I'm good, old friend - muttered.
The wolf answered with a wagging tail. Near the head, she heard the
guttural squeal Pippen, tangled on the pillow. Then he felt that
sank to sleep again, after expanding the sensations and verify that
Gavin Mars was alive and slept heavily. Slept with her fingers
closed on sick fur neck Fallon.
Cassandra woke up long after the lethargy that had dominated
previously almost disappeared. The wolf was lying on the floor. Pippen
slept tangled on the pillow. She sat down and hung his feet out,
touching the cold stone floor.
Felt weak legs and cold chills her. Forgotten what it was like
thorough cure. Steadied against the wall and realized for the first time, that there
wore nothing in the body. Was completely naked. Her dress and
combination were in a pile on the floor, cut ties. the
clothes were still wet from the snow, souvenir joke with
Fallon and Pippen. Not had time to change clothes after the return of Sir
Gavin and his men.
Confused, Cassandra looked around the room, trying to remember to
something, but could not. Turned his thoughts to his heart,
in search of memories in the subconscious.
Found himself charged up that room in strong arms, and felt the beat of a
heart where his head rested against a muscular chest. not
protested when his powerful hands gently touched her and took her
clothes. Seemed natural, and there was a familiarity that touch, which
calmed and brought warmth to the cool skin after she ventured to
cope with death to save the life of Sir Gavin.
When Stephen lain in bed fur, Cassandra expected,
instinctively that he would join her there, miss that heat
his side, an intense longing that seemed to emanate from his immortal soul,
something preordained.
But Stephen had departed. And Cassandra experienced a sudden
feeling of emptiness and loss, he returned now, in waves, keepsakes
physical so powerful that she winced and pulled the skin on the bed
shoulders.
He got up and went to the high fireplace, trying to understand those
feelings extracted from memory. Certainly emotions and should be
mortal sensations, a duality that was part of it, but you always
seemed a shadow, since childhood dominated by the strength of its largest
immortal powers.
The cold emptiness remained inside Cassandra, even when placed
more wood on the hearth. A void of unknown desires.
Stephen had sat there after the lay bare and lain in bed
skin. She felt his aura as if he had just gotten out of his chair and
heat still remained there.
He closed his eyes and, with the inner power, has focused in that essence, the voice
deep, penetrating gaze, as if observe inside,
intensity with which he moved, like a jailed animal, with the smell
a dash of sandalwood, touch, strong and rude at a time,
surprisingly suit the next. And the taste of it ...
For a moment, the memories were so strong, so vivid and powerful in
his senses it was as if she could open her eyes and find that
amber gaze to stare at her back, only to half-open lips and experience
New heat from the possessive kiss Stephen. Gasp with pleasure
recollected, Cassandra looked around. There were only shadows. And the tapestry
wound that was on the table in front of him.
The light shone in the visible wires on the edges. He remembered the promise he had made.
He put his hand hesitantly, to unroll it. tissue seemed bathing of light which waved
and disappeared.
What once was can be again ...
The words seemed hushed walls and pervades, a sigh, the cold air, as if in response.
Cassandra got up from the chair and fell to the bottom of the fourth,
refusing to look at the tapestry. But, to get away, experienced a
feeling so intense loss that drove the air from the lungs. pain
deep to him, as if his soul was dying.
No longer felt the presence of Stephen, the manly essence in their skin. era
as if, by refusing to look at the tapestry, she had lost it, lost
remembrance of him, and then lost herself.
Returned to the chair. Allowed to rest intoxicated by the aura, pulling her
within. Reached out once more to the tapestry.
A simple touch, and the ribbon that tied dropped. As guided by a
invisible power, the play opened, revealing sharp images, woven
vibrant colors.

From left to right, a story unfolded in vivid detail,
a huge battle led by a brave warrior and the beautiful
healer-haired fire with unusual powers who had taken
captive; the life of a king who had been saved; Lovers entangled in a
graphics; then, a growing darkness that began in
Tapestry edges and slowly progressed, as evil to sneak by shiny threads of life; a confrontation, and
the badly destroyed by a powerful sword.
- Excalibur - Cassandra murmured, taking the soul mortal
unbelief, even the immortal knew it was true.
As the chapters of a book, the next panels tapestry revealed the
image of a beautiful young woman with blond hair with the powers of a
enchanted, transformed a creature who had saved the life of a warrior
who traveled to the Far North Country; lost by a golden chalice
centuries until they felt existed only in legend, guarded by a
horrible creature of Darkness; the journey to an island shrouded in mist and
battle between the creature of darkness and the powers of Light, while claiming
Chalice of lost gold, known to mortals as the Grail.
In the next set of panels, Cassandra saw a young hair
blacks, the strands of her dress fabric in an unusual tone, blue for
moment and then dark violet in the next, matching the color of their
eyes.
Cassandra retreated, taking the hand of the tapestry. The ends of the fabric work
bowed themselves. The images no longer shone with the light of life,
but falter and lost color. And then disappeared from sight when
the tapestry once again curled up before your eyes.
For a moment, Cassandra tried to convince himself that he had not seen those
images. It was all imagination or a trick. But in his soul, knew
see right what were the recent past images of the weft yarns
by someone with powers almost as big as his.
He felt that even at that moment, in that tingling feeling in your
fingers touched the embroidery frames where there was a bond of connection between
and the weaver herself, an almost human touch.
My sister. A single thought, the truth emerged, bringing emotions and
feelings had long denied. Anger Childhood relented and gave
rise to the need. Need it always existed, under the anger of being
Deadly connect to your blood.
my sister.
Slowly touched the tapestry. As before, the embroidery opened. those
panels unfolded in front and one in the pictures, Cassandra
saw tears in the woman's face flame-haired, the expression to
turn slowly. Where there was sadness, a smile appeared.
It could just be a change of the light falling on the fabric, but, as
she had discovered, the images seemed alive, as something pulsating embroidery
the plots. So ran his hand over the wound edge side. this is
opened, revealing the dark-haired woman, herself, a warrior whose
fate was tied to his hand extended to hold it; later,
partially embroidered, inaccurate images of a golden ball on top
a scepter. The Oracle of Light
Those images overlap with many others, frame after frame,
created in painstaking detail, a woven tapestry by the Loom of Fate, the
past the images of a lost kingdom, a woman half mortal,
Immortal half Loading the sword of the fable through the world of mist for someone
imprisoned there. And two words escaped the lips of Cassandra. words
she always had refused to pronounce: - Mom ... Dad ...

Waves of darkness engulfed the last panels in dark pictures
death, destruction and the end of humanity.
For a long time, Cassandra allowed to stay there after the fire turned to ashes on the hearth,
and the gray light appeared through the cracks the window.
Finally, she stood up. Skin around the body, left
the room. Fallon went to her side as she searched the only place
always attracted her. The place of lost hopes and dreams, where
met for the first time, his own destiny.
The starry chamber was dark and silent, shrouded in shadows.
Cassandra was alone. But, returning to the intimate thoughts, saw
Images from the final fight, there in that same place, centuries before, when
brave knights whose king was dead had been engaged in a
last-ditch effort in the fight against the darkness, and, one by one, gave their lives
for what they believed.
Felt them valuable loyalty, distress and suffering as they were
shattered by an enemy they could not defeat, and yet
continued to fight until the last fall, the blood stain
Wooden Round Table. Cassandra put her hand in that exact spot,
Had much erased by time and weather that took possession of
Camelot in the following centuries. It was as if I touched the blood that
instant, hot, thick, agonizing last essence of bravery, faith and
hope, in a world of increasing darkness.
Felt he was no longer alone. There was someone at the door of the room.
- He was to find those who attacked Sir Gavin - Cassandra murmured, with
sure within the heart, because nowhere in the fortress caught the
presence of Stephen.
- Yes - came the reply, a voice at the same time familiar, but
aroused earliest memories. - Before the dawn - Truan
continued down the steps of the camera.
- And left you to defend Camelot? - She turned and faced him.
He frowned when he realized he could not reach the mind of
man. He felt a twinge of fear. - A fool to save the kingdom?
The cheerful smile fool was in Truan expression, eyes
laughing blue. He waved his hands in the air and when he opened his fingers, was there
a flower.
There was little arrange a flower in winter, but even so,
this was a trick, a silly, Cassandra thought impatiently, the
meditate upon the contradictions involving one man, one
warrior who fought and created illusions. He did not understand why men
Stephen's tolerated.
- A fool - he replied - in addition to about a hundred warriors and
Knights.
She was startled. With the loss the Warriors Sir Gavin and left many
back, Stephen had his hand only a handful of men.
- It took so little to help him?
- In your way of thinking, the greatest need lies here snapped Truan.
- And I suppose you have preferred to stay behind in order to practice their
tricks Wizard!
- I am where I am needed most.
- I feel comforted. - Cassandra did not disguise the sarcasm. - If
we need bright flowers or trinkets taken from our ears,
then there is nothing to worry about.
How to annoy her, Truan approached, fingers slipping through her hair
her falling down to his shoulders. Seemed to grasp an object, apparently
in the air. When he opened his hand, showed a locket, very similar to the
polished stones necklace that Elora had given him. Cassandra pulled the fingers
goals.
- I interrupting something?
They both looked at Margeaux, stop at the doorstep. It was the first time
who ventured out of bed. Seemed to revive the tea. although
still had deep circles under her face, she appeared to be relieved
Recent complications. Stared at them with an amused expression.
- It would be possible to find something to eat in this place? - Asked.
- I'm absolutely starving. I could eat an entire boar. But for
Please - begged,
with a knowing look - get dressed first, my dear. these corridors
are cold and full of air stream. Will not want to fall sick.
Cassandra was then that he realized he wore only a thick skin
around the body. Realized that the fact would seem to meet there,
Truan with the bare shoulder appearing above the skin.
- It is quite well-Truan said, his blue eyes fixed on
Margeaux, who walked away. - I think it was ill preferable.
For the first time, Cassandra laughed at something he said. agreed
fully.
- Lord Stephen said come back when?
Truan stared. Cassandra's eyes, saw something more than simple
concern for their own safety and that of those who had fallen
behind.
- When you are finished.
She did not ask the meaning, for he understood what he meant.
Stephen hunt out those who had attacked Sir Gavin and his men.
Out behind Malagraine.
It snowed for the next five days, and each storm brought new
concerns. Cassandra returned several times to the starry chamber, thinking
to use his powers to go to Stephen. And been excluded each time,
stuck by his promise not to let Gavin die.
Progress was slow rider. In the first two days had been dropped,
a deep sleep, unconscious everything. Twice had slipped to near death, and Cassandra
had afraid I could not bring it back. Fought for his friend's life because
thus felt closer to Stephen. Then, on the third day, he
seemed to wake up, his eyes move as if dreaming, and react to
ringtones or sounds around.
Bone, muscle and flesh healed. But the spirit is healed more slowly. on
subconscious and dreams revived thoughts and stories
told by the men who had survived, Cassandra had experienced the
attack that few had escaped. And seen what he will not see the
darkness of evil among the attackers warriors.
The completed days a week, and after almost two. Gavin became
stronger and spent a few hours a day at the salon with his men. Ali
assumed command and protection of the castle, counsel with and Truan
other knights who had remained in the fortress.
Margeaux also marked presence of the glorious motherhood that
boasted. Was seen by more and more quarters of Camelot, and returned to
old nature, the sharp tongue, which kept everyone away from their path.
Meg threatened to put a sleeping potion into his tea, to save
all his grumpy disposition. Amber usually patient and
candida, became a shadow.
That night, Truan and Gavin had formed a quartet with Amber and
another rider and entertained themselves with a board game. Amber won
several times, making Cassandra thinking in honesty of your opponents.
The girl was much loved by everyone in Camelot. And since I was there, it seemed that
had lost the frightened look. Friendship with Truan gave
impression of having contributed to it.
When they came out after the game, when passing through one of the lamps, made Truan
a trick. But the look in his eyes was not just Amber
fun. Cassandra realized it was emotional, frank,
completely recede -given. The pain of the past was gone before a
intense longing. In a sudden move, Amber reached out and
Truan laced neck. His mouth opened against him,
indulging in a deep, passionate kiss.
Caught by surprise, for a moment Truan was visibly stunned. then
with a passion that Cassandra had thought does not exist in jolly silly, he
returned the kiss.
His hands buried in his hair Amber, framing her head.
Raised against him, so that that delicate body to mold
her, as he kissed her.
Silent Canyon Amber came a deep groan. Instead of
hinder him, the sound, the first thing the girl let out, it seemed
some enchantment to bewitch him. Truan clung to her hands to her
stroking his back, as if the two could become one. deepened the
kiss, so intimate and warm Cassandra saw him become no more
a fool, but a vibrant and hungry man wishes to join a woman.
Saw this in the veins bulged in his hands as he clung to the girl, the way he arched his body against
hers,
as if he was plucking her clothes and take her right there; the smell of
passion coming from both: the Truan strong and powerful human desire to
unite physically; hers, sweet, hot, innocent, with the first awakening
sex; and then the eyes sparkle when opened.

For a moment, Cassandra was afraid that he possessed the girl there, in the
corridor. Then, as suddenly as it had the fingers if Truan
closed in the arms of Amber. And he let out a hoarse, harsh sound,
wounded, as if a part of you is tear within. Pushed her away.
The expression on the face of the girl was with astonishment and confusion. The Truan of head
thrown back, eyes closed, was agony. His words sounded harsh
and echoed off the walls: - No, Amber. Can not be.

The look of the young man searched. The wound expression returned.
- You are a child. The feeling is friendship, nothing more. Over time,
experience other feelings.
Amber shook her head, refusing to listen, with an air of anger and sadness.
He shook her by the shoulders, as if to force her to understand.
- I'm no good for you. Go find a boy his age and with the
time nurture feelings for him who thinks he has for me.
Truan showed itself extremely correct character. Amber was almost a
child and he was a much older man. Cassandra sympathized when the
silence the girl turned into sobs. In plagued statement Truan, she realized he
impose distance between the two. Already walked away down the hall, fists
Savannas.
- It's late, Amber. Go back to your room. Meg is waiting.
The girl continued stop, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then she turned
and ran. Cassandra was thrilled with what he saw and felt, and
spurred by the emptiness growing inside you each day.
With snow to thicken, become more and more difficult to leave men
on patrol outside the walls of Camelot. And there was still no news
return of Stephen.
It had been almost three weeks. The atmosphere in Camelot, was
heavier and anxious every day. Even Truan stopped with his tricks
and games and become quiet and withdrawn. He was always in the company of
Gavin and his men. Amber seemed to have taken the face and dark circles
showed even more silent, as if that were possible. rarely
appeared in the hall.
Margeaux seemed to be oblivious to everything. He enjoyed his role
spoiled prisoner. No longer attached to the bed, looked much healthier
every day, the body to swell as the son of Malagraine grew in his belly, along with the
certainty that he would rescue her soon.
Cassandra spent as much time as possible away from the walls, which
seemed to confine it. Every time I opened the time, she was involved in the mantle
Wool and out with Fallon and Pippen, go to the houses of the inhabitants of
Camelot see if they were in good health and hear complaints. Only returned if it was
absolutely necessary.
More than once takes off from the outside when a new storm
collapsed. It would be foolish to try again using the same net stretched strings
to guide the warriors and knights of the inner courtyard stables and
after the lobby to the main doors of the hall. When this happened,
Cassandra was happy to accept the hospitality of those whom helped.
He sat with them in front of a cozy fire, shared the food
simple. Only there did not feel the emptiness and fear that Stephen and his men
could not return.
In the fourth week, the storms finally subsided. snow
silent, to be deposited, layer after layer, doors and windows, ceased
momentarily. Cassandra came out to meet Fallon on the patio
procedure. The wolf was no longer confined, but was seen by his side always
she left the outskirts of Camelot. Pippen sniffed the air, as if
wanted guess if spring had arrived, and ran toward the pantry
to see if I could food.
At the sound of the shrill voice of Margeaux, to find the raccoon in the hallway,
Cassandra fled in the wake of the steps Fallon by snow. Advantage that the
time opened and spent the morning in the underground deposits that certain
had once saved groceries for an entire city. made a
survey, calculating supplies by farmers and
peasants who had returned to Ca with their belongings.

A man named Goodoe helped, making the markings she
recorded, and opening a path between en-plowed under thoroughly, drums, bags
grain and bales of carded wool. Stephen appointed as the bookkeeper,
position he had taken seriously.
Was a miller, and before the first snowfall, fortunately had the touch
late to repair the old barn that kept the grain for
Camelot needs. Permanence.
Future. Cassandra realized that with each passing day, more
and more of that simple people returned, family after family, centuries later,
to the place where their ancestors had inhabited, with new hope
promised in a future legend.
Such hopes could be passing? Cassandra was wondering, with
thoughts on uncertain needlepoint images of past, present
and gloomy foreboding that lay ahead of them all.
After lunch we continued to work without a sense of time. It was late
late when she finally came out of the deposits.

The sky was gray with the promise of a new storm, the air
cold and harsh, bringing the smell of stoves, the sound of voices from the huts
that lined the walls. Cassandra returned to the hall, so the
first snow began to fall.
Upon entering, looked at Gavin. A shake of the head said it has not
had news of Stephen or his men.
She did not do the meal in the hall that night, but picked up
the room with Fallon and Pippen. The wolf felt his mood and lay on the floor,
beside the fire, his eyes sad watching her intently. night creature
By nature, Pippen escaped, sneaking out the door, when Cassandra
opened, to scour the kitchens. Somewhere, gave the meeting with
Margeaux again.
Cassie heard the roar of the adoptive sister, and after various insults. soon
then Margeaux passed through the bedroom door, grumbling about the
inadmissible permission that animals walked the halls of a
house. Some time later, there was a scrape on the door. Cassandra opened.
The raccoon entered the loin stewed some banquet discovered.
Maybe apples. Searched the favorite place beside the brazier and settled down,
licking his muzzle and paws.
Cassandra walked across the room incessantly around the tapestry, trying
see any pattern in non woven strands and then leaving it aside, full of
frustration. The fire was dying. It fed with various logs and then
snuggled in the warmth of the bed.
Agreed, thereafter, a start. Felt a change in the air.
He stood up and curled a skin. When Falon raised his head,
Cassandra gave him a mental order: stay here.
Left cold and empty hallway. There was no sound. but she
continued to capture something. Crossed the room and pulled the heavy
bolt. Pushed the door of the king's room.
The fire burned on the hearth, and pools of light bathed the light walls, the
skin over the stone floor, the chair of new wood and the man who
stood before the fireplace, his hands outstretched toward the flames. The first
Look, it was Stephen. But as Cassandra watched more
attention, it felt a weariness that seemed to drain his strength. the shoulders
were slumped, his head drooping forward, as if no
energy and he could faint anytime.
She walked slowly across the room, with the senses and thoughts to you
rummage the mind, desperate to ensure that Stephen did not
was wounded. He finally seemed to notice his presence. He raised his head
and the exhausted expression and haunted look, Cassandra saw the most
deep pain. See what Stephen had seen; what he and his men had
found; saw the threads of a woven tapestry of horror, death panel, and
destruction.
Her gaze met Stephen, fear to invade it before he witnessed and experienced.
Searched for some coal in those
deep amber, a tiny flame that still exist.
Then he realized it, a small flame of life struggling to escape the
horror of darkness, the moment he saw her.
Cassandra advanced to Stephen, fearing that flame could
die, horrified by what he had seen and endured, striving to
see the same images in order to take them for you, so you can
You understand and minimize distress.
The look was stabbed in his haunted was feverish and burned as
struggled to escape the darkness. Cassandra felt the suffering that
tore, the horror of death he had witnessed, the lives lost, the blame
he carried.
Without a word, let the skin fall to the floor at his feet.











Chapter VII

- My men ...
Stephen's voice was low and hoarse, of agony blended with a rage
powerless than find.
- I know - Cassandra murmured.
Even before she had finished speaking, he extended his arms and
pulled her against his chest, strong to hold her hands, her hungry lips
devouring mouth.
There was no tenderness, only despair. A desperation coming from what
Stephen had experienced and had carried back into every fiber of memory. a
memory that haunted him and would continue to haunt him during his lifetime.
Stephen twisted her hair, twirling her hands in silky waves to you
tilt your head back. He kissed her neck and lifted her up as if
were a feather. And with a wild moan echoing in the background
throat, slid her lips over heaving breasts.
Cassandra gasped before the daring, the power that poorly controlled
bordered madness, as if contact with your body could sweep the horrible memories from the mind
of Stephen. And was startled with the madness that dominated, while bending to offer
and surrender, clinging to him, the inner yearning becoming a pain as well
different to see him suck it like someone who sucks at life.
Stroked it, then, the faces, the eyes, the hard curve of his chin. touched each
point memorized in the weeks had passed, and then the
kissed him with all the longing he felt the painful uncertainty that may
never come back.
- Make me forget - Stephen murmured, clinging to Cassandra. - You
has the power. Pluck me this pain.
As he stroked, Cassie wrapped around the waist with the legs and
cocked his head to get his kiss.
- Give me your pain - she said, lips to lips, the thoughts
pervade the mind of Stephen, the body discovered as reburning
Most of painful memories and then the desire that lay dormant since the
time they had met.
He closed his eyes, allowing thoughts to become Stephen
hers in all the vivid images he imagined - how longed
By making love and own it. Were sexy, erotic, violent imagery,
some full of tenderness and delicacy, but also fire and passion. saw
moment Stephen lay bare the longing that had enveloped the It again,
emotions and feelings when he kissed her.
Emotions and desires were so intense that became the emotions and desires Cassandra.
It was noticed invaded by the same hunger
physical, deep and painful that Stephen felt. The need to unite the
he became so violent and so vivid pulsing inside her as a
lifeblood.
- Give me everything you - Cassie murmured to take the robe of Stephen
muscular shoulders. Saw the scar that marked his flesh and left him
even more beautiful to your eyes. - Give me your heart.
He closed his eyes again to prove the texture of the skin of the throat,
as he ran his fingers through his manly chest, to provide it energy.
- Give me your soul.
As if he could not take it anymore, he stared at her, his eyes sparkle of
desire and an almost desperate anger. In anger Stephen, Cassandra
felt doubt and question. Was she a creature of Darkness?
The desire that flared between the two, like a fire out of control,
Cassandra saw the answer when he carried her to bed in fast
past.
Not with gentle gestures that lay on the skins. there was
just urgency. Urgency to start the tunic, to get rid of his pants and throw it
aside. Urgency when his weight sank the bed, hands to ward her
knees. And Cassandra urgency in reaction to tremble with anticipation,
bury nails into strong muscles; instinctive in bending the hips. And
when their minds joined, she already felt the powerful and sweet physical union.
Surrendered to madness and passion, as if a fire Burning consume them until their bodies tremble
and spasm in reached ecstasy at the same time.
Stephen opened his eyes, and saw Cassandra them all distress and perception
of what he had to do.
- No! - She exclaimed vehemently, and then, again, with tenderness to
silence him with his finger on his lips. Embraced him when he flinched,
horrified having elicited it possessed that way. Pulled him to the bed, his
hand over the soft fur. With her legs still entwined in the
Stephen away the demons of his memories with thoughts
clear, leaving him with only the warmth of his body nestled in security. And for the first time
in many days, Stephen fell asleep deep and dreamless.

When Stephen woke up, thought the cocoon without sight and without the sounds
surroundings could well be death, and, for a moment, as the
invaded the memories back, he would have welcomed gladly.
Then gradually became aware of the thick fur on the body of
a blow of cold air that crept through the opening of the curtains of light
brazier that was reflected on the ground. The memories of the hours spent
returned with the gentle warmth that emanated from a splendid creature to its
side. In the soft light the brazier, Stephen saw the Satin Hair Cassandra
spread over one shoulder ivory, to the waist, a torrent
black that revealed a glimpse of pale breasts. Then he felt the
tentative caress of delicate fingers on his thigh.
- Cassandra? - He muttered, praying it was not a dream.
Felt she stroked and then got up to sit, so
receive it within himself again.
- Cassandra, we should not. - He held her hips as if it were
push her away. - What I saw ...
Could have prevented it.
But failed. Allowed to engage in that
fire within that cocoon of protection around them and kept the world
apart. She felt the agony of Stephen with the slow and brutal death
his men, an agony that he will dump into it when they had
united. This time would be different, there would be no world outside.
- Can not reach us here - Cassandra said.
Laced his fingers with Stephen. She arched her back as she moved
slowly at a rate as old as mankind. the bodies
is set to the beat, as if made to complete. Then, in
quick gesture, he turned her on her back, taking control.
- Cassandra! - Whispered, crazed passion. Much later, in
silent agony, Stephen closed his eyes and pulled her, asleep for more
near you. And if they had raised a son? A bastard like him, a
uncertain and gloomy world? He remembered the images on the tapestry. era
powerless to prevent it. Just as she had no strength
to fight the desire to possess it.
Slept, the world beyond the gates of Camelot, forgotten.


Upon awakening, Cassandra felt a delicious warmth that surrounded her. He opened his
eyes and saw the look of amber color of Stephen, his hand resting on his
thigh, which relied on the firm hip.
Stephen leaned forward, his mouth seeking hers with great tenderness. Filled the
caresses. The shadows were gone from his eyes, replaced by
a heat that burned the kisses he gave her.
They made love again, in new ways. It was magical. It was wonderful.
It was agony. Forgetting everything, surrendered to the fire of passion and
lost it, regardless of whether the dawn born.
Stephen changed the face of what found in the northern mountains. us
days that followed his return, Cassandra felt it more strongly.
It was as if something had died inside.
Stephen did not speak on the subject, neither she wondered, as she understood,
be the union of the mind, or, at night, in almost desperate junction
their bodies.
Winter was at its fullest. Camelot had settled in its cocoon
icy, isolated from the outside world, protected from the darkness that hovered beyond
the walls.
Had wood for the bonfires and food to last through the winter. of
night, the men entertained with board games or exercised in
courtyard when there was an improvement in time. Truan amused all with
and his sleight of hand magician, but his rare smiles
disappeared when Amber appeared.
Unlike Cassandra expected after what turns between the two,
Amber had not become tearful and emotional. Seemed to have matured in
recent months. If it was not happy, do not let on and kept
zealously their tasks.
Margeaux needed no reasons for changing your mood. a time
looked excited and went to the hall for the evening meals, the next one
showed stupid and retracted. And all the time to complain. as his
belly grew, the more unhappy she felt.
Insisted in stating, in the first days of winter, did not know that Malagraine
the son she bore in her womb. In good weather, it would be easy for one of
peasants take the news to him.
However, no word had been heard to speak of redemption. And with the attack
the men of Sir Gavin in the north step, it seemed unlikely that
wanted to pay to free it.
Sir Gavin, as well as others who had been wounded and returned,
were recovered. However, as Stephen, had seen things that
did not speak.
Meg used to sit by the fire, because the cold had settled in their
bones, making it painful to walk. But that did not stop
talk. Mainly thoughts with Cassandra. always spoke
Tapestry.
It was woven by his sister. The power is strong in your family. But not embroidered
is finished. There is a portent of an unknown future. a legacy
you must not deny.
They have forsaken me, Cassandra recalled, he considered Elora the only person who had loved
her.
Elora died, not abandoned. And
could feel the presence of the Old. I have no family.
It's in your blood, Meg replied. You can not deny.
Only when the weather permitted, or in the bedroom he shared with Stephen,
Cassandra could escape the thoughts of the old Meg But even there, needlepoint images constantly
recounted his future uncertain.

A new year has arrived. February brought icy storms so violent
as Cassandra had never seen, confining them to the fortress. And with that, the
Margeaux temper became worse. Was restless and
quarrelsome. All were her target, but especially Cassandra.
- I do not know how you can tolerate such a thing - Stephen told him a
night, when retiring to the bedroom. - Maybe a few days in the dungeons of the
Castle mellow the temperament of his stepsister.
Cassandra burst into laughter.
- You do not know Margeaux. She always finds new ways of doing
people suffer.

Cassandra loosened the ties of her skirt and pulled her dress until it stopped before
fire brazier only combo. With the glow of the fire, let the fabric
little to the imagination.
- This is nothing before the way you make me suffer - declared
Stephen.
She arched an eyebrow.
- There seems tortured, my lord.
- An hour without being able to touch her is torture.
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap. He stroked her hair and
then untied the ribbons combination with incredible rapidity. enough
touch it to Cassandra boil with desire. Took her there, in the chair.
- Oh, heavens! - Stephen whispered hoarsely. - How to love your way when
make love. There is a lust that takes my breath away, as if you
possess of my soul. I love your taste. The sweetness that flows from within
you heat it burns when I touch. The energy ... Fire ...
He stood up and carried her into the bed of skins. He laid her on her back and
sank within her.
- The passion in you. The sound it makes at the final moment. Cassandra felt the
salty skin shoulder of Stephen and powerful muscles taut in
his back. Turned his thoughts to the point where they joined; the desire
the shackled, the heat seemed brighter than a thousand suns. Then he
held against the chest. Heart against heart, to touch souls.
Everyone was increasingly grumpy in confinement
caused by the weather. Less Cassandra. As winter to block the
steps of the mountain, the valley and Camelot were safe. Malagraine not
could enter, and Stephen could not leave with his men. And she could
imagine for a few more weeks that things would always be
as well.
No longer thought of the tricks Truan nonsense. Many nights were
enlivened by his jokes, always different.
Now that Amber was thought to be a waste of time. And if
refused to participate. He was always in the corner, Meg, or in kitchens,
where he practiced blend of herbs and powders that old started to teach him.
Mornings, Margeaux sat before the fire, swollen ankles
supported on a bench, with a watchful and observant look, temperament
nastier than ever.
That morning, Stephen and Gavin left early with Goo-donate to inspect
the supply of food in storage. Happened that in his last
trick the night before, had taken an apple Truan apparently the air, and
Pippen stretched out, tucked in the basket of wool at the feet of Cassandra. Pippen
stole the apple from the outstretched hand Truan and rushed to a corner to
eat undisturbed.
- I do not know why you all melts by this stupid man! - Margeaux
complained.
- Why might I find more enjoyable company than some
people I know - Truan said with irony.
Margeaux was empty, frivolous, feisty and sometimes cruel. But it was not
stupid. He knew exactly who he was talking about.
- A clown and a fool - said with an air of disgust. - Shared
perfect.
Truan ignored her, sat next to Cassandra and picked up a ball of wool
stack.
- It would be the perfect companion for herself - she murmured,
quietly. - Both quite unpleasant.
Cassandra laughed.
- Imagine what would happen if Margeaux did not like much of herself.
- They could take the punches.
Cassandra's eyes glowed fun.
- It would be expecting too much.
- Good to hear you laugh, Cassandra. Should do this more often.
- There is little to laugh about lately.
- In fact, Truan agreed, blue eyes studying her. - Lord Stephen
do not laugh much.
She thought about the private moments between them, when there were many
laughter. Laughter and passion.
- Perhaps more than you know.
- And more than you admit, too?
The expression of the eyes Truan was not cheerful banter or silly,
but slightly puzzled.
- Maybe.
He laughed. The ball entangle up on their toes and
Cassandra was forced to help you get rid of or lose a piece
large, full of us. It was a complicated process, because if Truan
behave like a playful kitten tangled yarns of wool,
The more she tried to loosen them.
Finally, Cassandra did the only thing that seemed to make sense. Typically,
not worth the powers themselves, as was difficult to explain to people. But a simple thing like
unraveling one skein was innocent enough. The simple thought of her, the ball
loosened up as if it had life, fell from Truan fingers and ran the table.
He picked it up and greeted her.
- It has a magic touch, lady.
- Only'm not so clumsy. You are better to provide apples to
Pippen.
It was the soft, musical laugh Cassandra Stephen heard upon entering, with
Gavin in the lounge. And holding her hand to Truan Monroe.
- Or, perhaps more perfect companions - Margeaux commented, eyes
to be narrowed to realize new possibilities on the expression of
Stephen, who looked at Cassandra and Truan apparently in close conversation.
- You are now winding skeins of yarn? - Stephen asked as he poured
a mug of wine and sat in front of them at the table.
- Cassandra convinced me that my talents are needed as well
from here - Truan replied, with an air of silly - or will all Camelot
without clothes because of damaged balls.
Cassandra laughed.
- But at least there will be a lot of apples.
Stephen looked at each other as if they were crazy. Slammed the mug
wine on the table and the liquid is spread overboard.
- I believe that his talents would be better spent
things that were not in hanks or apples. Maybe the sword.
We will need much more than apples when we face Malagraine,
unless you think you can defeat him with fruit.
Suddenly, the conversation was no longer funny. Stephen was grumpy
since morning. And not improved.
- It was a joke that we share - Cassandra tried to explain.
- It seemed they shared much more.
She threw the ball of wool in basket.
- A few laughs, nothing more. Laughing is not against the law, my lord.
- No it is not. But the impertinence should be. - He turned to Truan: - The
you think, my friend? We should consider outlawed impertinence?
- I believe there are enough laws, and the most important is its application
- Truan replied tactfully. - But it is believed that it takes more,
then the Council could better decide Knights.
- Ask the Council! - Stephen exclaimed. - Eleven riders and a fool.
Cassandra got up from the bench. Anger flashed in her violet eyes.
- Perhaps there should be a law against spirits - Pig suggested.
- Have someone in mind, lady?
- I'm looking for one! Margeaux giggled.
- Maybe we should discuss this in private - Stephen muttered between the teeth.
Cassandra took the basket of balls of wool.
- I see no reason to discuss it. - With a haughty nod,
left the hall.
Stephen did not follow her and she was happy about it because I was afraid of what
could say. He acted like a fool and not without reason. Had used hurtful words,
but out particularly cruel to Truan, a good friend.
Upon arriving to the room, threw the basket in the corner. With the thud on the floor, Fallon
lifted his head and stared at her with an almost human expression.
- I do not want to talk! - Cassandra said.
She undressed quickly and got under the skins. Much later, she
heard the door open and the light from the torches of the corridor focus on the stones
Wall. Beside the bed, Fallon got up and paced the room. The
door closed.
The fire was low on the hearth, and the room in the dark. Cassandra heard
when Stephen crossed the room, the sounds so familiar and dear to her
as the act of breathing. Even in anger. Then came a stroke of
cold air, followed by heat when the long, lean body bent around
its. She felt his fingers caressing her waist and desire that invaded the
Despite efforts to remain impassive.
He closed his eyes tightly, turning his thoughts to the intimate resolved
to resist. But his mortal body betrayed his soul when hot hand slid down her belly, the
same time as his lips brushed against his shoulder.
- I know you're not sleeping - Stephen murmured. The excitement ran through her
that one simple touch, and warm breath reminded the other caresses
above. Even so, he refused to answer. He, however, continued to
caress her, kissing her neck, hands touching the most sensitive points, up
feel that Cassandra arched, unable to control himself anymore.
- You are my-Stephen murmured, nibbling her neck while
continued with caresses. - My - murmured to take it.
Finally sated, Stephen fell into a deep sleep. Cassandra does not
slept. He got up and crossed the room. Put wood on the hearth and
sat before the fire. Looking at the images formed on the tapestry
open on the table. One of them showed sharper now. As a
trip to an inaccurate land, but Cassandra could not tell whether
she would make the trip or was it would return.
- How many weeks left of winter? - Truan asked, near the end of
February, when the storms finally ceased. Snow fell
slowly, glossing the watchtowers.
Cassandra looked at him with surprise, since not heard him approach.
- There are still six weeks until spring. - She looked at the patio
procedure, which disappeared under a blanket of snow. - But I believe that the time
not know that.
- And how long before the child is born?
Cassandra's hand hesitated on the record which marked the amount of
supplies. So, responded to make the next note.
- Three months. Although I doubt that anyone can endure Margeaux
there.
- I'm not talking about Margeaux. She stared at him, startled.
- You did not tell him - Truan concluded.
Negative rose to the lips of Cassandra, in phrases that thought in the past
weeks since he had assured that expecting a child. In Look
Gay silly, it was hardly a fool, saw that it was useless to deny,
above it. Truan was very insightful, though he seemed to want
and everyone thought that she was a fool.
- How do you know?
- It's not hard to see. It's just knowing what to look for. - Before the gaze
astonishment, he explained: - There are clear signs in all creatures.
A woman is a certain radiance of beauty. - Then, rolled his eyes,
Margeaux look at where he sat. And if corrected: - In some
women. In others, the irritation seems to germinate.
Cassandra did not know whether to laugh or cry. He hoped that nobody had
noticed. At least for now.
- Speak as if he had some experience in this matter.
- Only by observation.
- And not for experience? - She murmured, as he recalled the meeting that
seen between Truan and Amber, which revealed a very different facade that
he showed everyone.
Truan laughed and shrugged.
- Some, perhaps. - Then turned serious. - You can not keep
secret for long. Some will appreciate faster than others. those
- Pondered intentionally - that have nothing better to do your
Time to search for such things.
Cassandra knew he was talking about and assured Margeaux:
- I'll tell Stephen when the time comes. But there are issues that weigh
too much about it. The winter has been long and hard. The food
becoming scarce. Stephen cares about the people of Camelot. And with the
spring, he will lead his men through the steps to search for Northern
Malagraine. I will not be a burden and cause for concern.
Truan leaned over and took her hand. He kissed her fingers. - If a lady
Adorable carry my son, I assure you it would not be a burden.
There had been the right time to tell Stephen largely
because Gassandra was not sure how he would receive the news. knew
his bastard birth. Stephen spoke little about it, but she knew
that the inability of the father, to put aside the duties of king and recognize
duties of parent, left him with a deep hurt that would never be healed.
Understand those feelings very well, is it were very different from their relationship with parents
who had abandoned.


Now, the son of Stephen grew inside her, a spark of life created
with mortal and immortal passion, with the blood of ages flowing in his veins.
As Stephen would feel regarding the bastard himself? What about
future? An uncertain tomorrow wrapped in darkness and death. A future which
Cassandra was part. And because it was part then was also part of the child
that would be born.
In the moments when I was alone, on nights when Stephen came
late to bed, Cassandra cried, his hand resting upon the life
felt from the first moment I had conceived.
His son. A child of unknown powers. If he survived.
That was his greatest fear. Not that Stephen did not accept the child, but
she was not able to protect the new life growing in her womb
what would be ahead.
For a brief moment, a moment of mortal weakness and uncertainty,
Cassandra thought about how things might be different if he expected
a son. Had means known by healers. And others, for
who had their powers. With a simple concentrated thought,
Could sweep the fragile life of her belly, as if it never existed.
But at what price? For his soul and substance extracted powers of Light,
source of life itself, in universe.
If renounce the child then renounce his powers for
Darkness, death and destruction?
What about your mortal being? That part of her was human? His heart? its
soul? Although I had thought about it briefly, beset by doubts and
mortal fears, the answer came from the core of his being.
It could not. The child within her womb had been raised with love and passion,
unlike anything that Cassandra had experienced before. E
she would give her own life to protect him.
The tray fell a thud on the floor.
The expression on the face of horror was created while looking for precious food
that had taken hours to be prepared and now spread across the floor.
- Do not look at me that way! - Margeaux exclaimed. - I know what's
thinking. But I am the daughter of the lord of Tregaron. Carry the son of Prince
Malagraine. I demand that you respect me!
The poor man turned away from foot footwear with boots when the Margeaux
kicked. Cassandra intervened, but the sister ignored him, willing to
discharge the anger and frustration in created.
Margeaux become increasingly contentious in recent weeks, the
cause anyone who came near her. Nobody was spared until
Stephen had sworn that he would confine it to the room.
Realizing that her sister did not listen, Cassandra tried to pull her.
But misjudged. Not imagined that Margeaux were able to hurt someone, and did not see
the knife she took from the table.
Sensed the danger too late, the blade cut the thin fabric on her shoulder.
So surprise was that it took a moment before feeling the pain together until
realize the viscous blood heat.
Truan was the first to jump, Margeaux and grabbed his arm with a grip
firm. Screaming, she began cursing horrible things, when the knife fell
his fingers. Given the confusion, several horsemen appeared hastily
the hall, sword in hand. Stephen was among them.
- What happened? - Asked by crossing the hall. Margeaux looked up
furious to Truan and then stared Cassandra.
- A bastard a bastard! - Esgoelou, a dirty game, avenging
for words. - From who? Warrior or silly?
- What is she talking about? - Stephen wondered.
- A bastard a bastard! - Margeaux repeated. - If you do not know,
should ask the mother of the bastard.
- Enough! - Truan stormed by requiring Margeaux to turn around.
He held her by the shoulder. A groan of protest, she rolled her eyes and
lost consciousness. Would have fallen to the ground if one of the men not Stephen
picked it up and deliver to a neighbor created.
- Get it here! - Truan ordered and then turned to Cassandra. The
expression in her eyes prevented him from making a joke or deny
malignant insinuations Margeaux.
Features were contracted, full of anguish. Cassandra looked at Stephen,
but saw only anger.
- What she wanted to insinuate? - He asked, looking from one to the other,
suspicion clouding your heart.
- What you should have known without that needed to be said! - Truan
shouted boldly.
Stephen turned to Cassandra. The anger was still there, but there was
questions and doubts.
- Could you explain to me? - Asked. Then he saw the blood
dripped from her shoulder, and anger left his face. ran
help her.
Cassandra never been ill in his life. Never felt physically ill,
even after discovering she was pregnant. But now, the pain throbbed
on his shoulder. A wave of nausea rose in her throat with the smell of
Blood. Staggered back, slowly. Just wanted to depart. Then
Suddenly it was as if his feet weighed like lead. A feeling of
Crush pulled her down. He felt himself falling, falling as if
was nothing more than a rag doll, and waited to feel any
when the cold, hard stone floor on his face. Instead, arms
strong around her.
She protested, pushing his muscular chest. Could not bear the anger of
Stephen.
But it was not Stephen that was carrying nor Stephen had whispered in his
ear. - With horses, my heart. Strange, comforting, words resonated,
welcome to a reminder was lost long time and then disappeared in the miasma
black that closed around Cassandra.
Cassandra seemed to wander adrift in a warm and soft cocoon.
Occasionally, voices entered the cocoon, floating by your subconscious,
and then crept away.
There was no anger in that warm and safe place. Heard no more intrigues
Margeaux of liars.
Floated, slept, then floated again, preferring to stay in that place
for now. Aware of the sweet liquid and warm trickling through his
lips and throat, felt the taste of tea. Smiled with mild lethargy
he caused her and then allowed to wander into unconsciousness.
- Why was I the last to know? - Stephen asked angrily.
- Why did - Meg replied. He gave a wry chuckle when placing
mug of tea beside that Cassandra would sleep, and not undermine or
she nor the child. And snorted. - Not blind no greater than that which does not
want to see.
- Cassandra will be okay?
- The shoulder injury is mild and heal with the power that is strong within her.
As for the rest ... - Not yet.

- The child is safe?
- Grows stronger, and its power to protect. No evil shall befall the child
long as she lives. - He felt the uncertainty of Stephen and laughed again. - You
lay with Cassandra with a passion able to shake the very walls of Camelot and not
considered the possibility of conceiving a child? Who is the fool?
- Not that I have not thought of that.
- So maybe you already have a wife, or children with another woman, and not
want more.
- I have no son - Stephen declared vehemently. - Always
made sure of that before.
- Yes - Meg replied - before. Now, what will warrior? his son
Cassandra grows in the womb. But rest assured that she will not ask anything
You. It is very proud to do so. Nor need you. Cassandra, more
than anyone, knows that a child can survive without their parents. The
choice is yours.
- Let's.
When she hesitated and glared harshly with those sightless eyes,
Stephen assured her:
- There will be no harm to her or the child.
After the old woman away, he sat for long hours in the chair,
before the fire, looking at Cassandra, pale and motionless, steeped in
deep, restful sleep.
A bastard a bastard.
The words tore. But not because of any suffering that
could cause you. Long time it was reconciled with his
illegitimate birth. The existing between him and his father anger stemmed from old
discussions and stubbornness. The circumstances of his birth, Stephen now realized, had just
served as an excuse for disagreements.
The suffering he was experiencing at that moment, to the bottom of the soul, was
the young man who had given him an unbelievable passion and now their fertilized
child in the womb. And holding secret to spare him.
What if, he asked himself. The power of Cassandra protected the child, provided that
she lived. And if the knife had hit lethal way? could he
bear the loss of the beloved? Could stand to lose a child that both
had generated?
He rose from his chair and took off his clothes while crossing the room. Tucked up,
naked under the skins, meeting heat Cassandra to pull her against
itself.
Even in sleep, she felt her resistance because hurt her deeply. she
squirmed, trying to get away. But Stephen would not allow. Pulled her
back with extreme kindness, hold her against his chest, his hand to land
protectively over the belly of the woman he loves and the little life that
grew there.
When Cassandra agreed to immobilize the shoulder stiffness that was the only
memory of Injury. The flesh set again. All that remained was a
narrow line that would soon disappear with his healing powers.
Then he felt the familiar warmth at his back, and the memories came back.
He tried to move away. And realized that Stephen was not asleep, but
lying beside. Hesitate to turn to imagine what to expect.
How long had he stood there watching her? Could feel that
amber eyes, feel the whirlwind of emotions with which he fought, and
words that lay unsaid between the two.
- There is nothing between me and Truan. He is a friend, nothing more -
Cassandra began hesitantly, only to feel the warmth of the fingers of Stephen
on the lips to silence her.
Then he realized he caressed her and then stood to kiss her
sweetness. His arms wrapped around her waist. Then, if Stephen
lowered, the face leaned back against the still flat belly.
Humility and tenderness were strangers to him, however, humbly hugged
tenderly, as if Cassandra was fragile as a crystal hugging ...
also the child growing inside her. And tears welled eyes
Cassandra. As hot as those felt tears run down the face
Stephen.
Laid his hand on abundant hair and stroked her face, again united by
passion and love, with a simple touch, shielding them from the darkness of
overnight.
















Chapter VIII

A warm wind blew from the west, a fake spring that still
was away a few weeks, but it brought a brief relief for the
hard winter.
The snow had melted on the patio, making it possible to find homes that
lined the streets of Camelot, for the first time since the new year. the
stables were opened to exercise the restless horses. wagons
ran through muddy streets, drivers help themselves with joy
simple power out, no matter how difficult.
The morning meal was over some time. Men Stephen
had come out to enjoy the weather, because the farmers predicted that the
lull would not last. For a brief, rare moment, Cassandra and Stephen
were alone. Pippen even ventured out in search of
some different apples treasure, which had grown tired.
Without saying a word, Stephen pulled her against his chest.
The lines had softened around his eyes and the mouth, in recent weeks, as if he had relieved some
great burden.
Or as if a decision could be taken. but Stephen
not touched on the subject. In fact, had exchanged a few words, and nothing
about the child. It was as if knowing his son had changed his
feelings for Cassandra. Changed in a way that made her
a feeling of emptiness and loneliness.
At that moment, however, the expression on his face and in his eyes was
different, the same as it was that first time, after learning of the child,
when aninhara in the arms of a humble and loving way.
He pulled her into his lap, his fingers entwined with Cassandra. He stared at the
slender fingers as if she saw something she could not see, even
with his powers. Then he lowered his head, his lips caressing the palm
open, with such great tenderness that moved and left her breathless.
- You are my life - Stephen murmured. - It's my blood, my heart,
my soul, the very air I breathe. - His eyes were closed, lashes
thick to land on the tanned faces. Then slowly looked at her.
Expression of gaze was tormented. The expression of a man who feels
things that are beyond your ability to control them.
Those words tore the heart of Cassandra. And she tried to drown them
fingers against his lips Stephen. His soul ached and tears
flooded her eyes.
- My lord, please ...


But he could not remain silent.
- I heard that for some women carrying a child is one thing difficult.
Gladly , I would take your pain to me . I would be happy to give my
blood instead. But if anything happens to you by my
cause I can not stand .
That was what kept him away from Cassandra since learned son . of
Suddenly she knew the reason clearly. And was astonished . Tried to extract the
reason of the thoughts of Stephen and had not realized that there was not
find , but in the heart . He was afraid for her because of the child.
During the whole time they were together , Cassandra rarely
tried to break into her thoughts . Somehow , it seemed important that
Stephen express feelings through a touch, a kiss, the
body inside the fundamental union between a man and a woman . E
only shared their own thoughts with him in those moments
passionate when indulged one another , while allowing Stephen
saw , felt and experienced what she saw , felt and experienced when
together form a printed meaning that the deepest
carnal knowledge , as if those moments really becoming an
one body and one soul .
The only way to make him understand the strength and tremendous power flowing
Cassandra, to protect it from the worst fears that Stephen could nourish,
was to give her what she had inside. When you kiss him, Cassandra opened her
thoughts, the very essence, a junction that surpassed the form
Physics.

A familiar warmth enveloped them and then deepened when Cassandra
took with him to the place where he resided his power, where the child
grew strong and protected. And Stephen saw the force of the flowing eras it and
sweet and tender passion that bound them. He saw, too, the child sleeping in
security.
When the kiss ended, Stephen's eyes opened slowly. Lucian
with a loving tenderness that Cassandra had thought could never see.
Then he stroked her slightly rounded belly, as if he could
touching the child he had seen. With teary eyes, murmured the name of
Cassandra when landing forehead against forehead, full of respect and wonder.
His mouth sought hers again.
- It's still early, my lord - Cassandra murmured. - All gone.
No one will notice if you take a little longer.
Stephen carried her to bed with the greatest care, his hands shaking as
to take the clothes: the vest, wool dress and finally the fine combination
that had plagued him for weeks with glimpses of that slender body; until
Cassandra lay gloriously naked before her.
Ali, the daylight seeping through the panels of amber, he realized the
subtle changes. The smooth rounded belly above the waist yet
fine, full breasts, thin veins under pale skin, nipples more
darker, fuller bodied and then steep with the chill air.
Cassandra, however, did not feel cold to look for him with feverish hands.
Impatient, untied the laces of her tunic, then pants.

Stripped the powerful muscles of the chest and shoulder. Then
took off his boots and pants, slowly, the firm buttocks until
Stephen also showed, totally naked before her.
- Cassandra? - I was afraid of hurting her.
The question went unanswered as she pulled against his own body. E
joined with madness until the spasms shook them. With the breath
attached to the throat, Cassandra arched, and with all the passion of soul, shouted at him
the name.
- The walls began to speak - Meg commented during the meal
noon. - They say names. Especially some - continued, with the curve
a smile as he turned back to Cassandra. - I think I heard the name of my lord
I passed through the room this morning. It must be an omen.
Cassandra nearly choked on a piece of bread. The chair where she was the
meal with Truan and Sir Gavin, she felt the warm look of Stephen and
After the laughter spread his features while listening to the commentary
Meg.
Margeaux was absent, to everyone's relief. The mood of the room was
lighter because of it.
- Or maybe - Meg pondered the back that empty look in the direction of
fireplace and male voices - were a hungry rat.
- We do not have rats here - Cassandra replied firmly, to change the
Talk to feel his face burning with the remembrance of the preceding hours.
- Then rats, who knows - Meg continued.
- Yes - agreed Stephen, to blur the look of desire. - Rats
hungry.
- I think you need me - Cassandra murmured. - The time will not
remain good and I want to visit the huts. Maybe someone got
sick. - He got up and took the basket of herbs and powders that always had the
close. Refusing to look at Meg or Stephen, Amber asked the
accompany him.
The wind had cooled and brought the smell of more snow . Cassandra and Amber
walked the huts , leaving bags of herbs . The clouds filled the
heaven when they left the last hut with hot bread stuffed payment
inside the basket . The snowflakes fell on the ground already flecked with white.
Returned to the salon after leaving the bread in the kitchen and shoveling
boots and cloaks . Amber 's cheeks glowed , rosy . She was intelligent and
quickly learned the different combinations of herbs and powders which eased
various diseases. Was happy to help others .
When hanging the robe on a hook , Cassandra realized that Meg expected
anxious , the arched door . She knew that Stephen and Sir Gavin had resolved
ride through the vicinity , determined to send patrols to see if
Malagraine army had advanced through the steps of the north with the improvement of
time. Fear closed like a fist around cold heart
Cassandra , although he felt that the problem was not with Stephen .

- What is it? - Asked to take the hand of the old. He felt the connection
thoughts. Margeaux!
- His sister disappeared shortly after noon. I did not realize until I took tea
soothing to her room. Then I saw it was gone. led clothes
hot.
- And a horse stables - Truan amended approaching.
- The crazy! - Cassandra muttered. - She knows you cannot trust
climate.
By saying this, he realized that it was the time that led him to decide. a brief
Relief was all that was needed to get away Margeaux, at a time when
everyone thought he was asleep and the gates of Camelot were
open for Stephen and his men leave. It should have been easy to sneak
out together with the people who went hunting in the nearby woods.
- What direction she took? Anybody seen her?
- A trail of hulls leads to forest - Truan replied. - None
Hunter left mounted.
Cassandra grabbed the robe and tied it around her shoulders. When Meg tried
stop her, she shook her head vehemently.
- It is my responsibility. Cannot have gone far. The storm will
delay it.
- I'm with you - Truan said, with a firmness that brooked no refusal.
Then he smiled. - Maybe that way I can redeem myself.
- Or not! - Meg snorted, considering that the two thought
that things would be more peaceful without the presence of Margeaux.
- We must think of the children! - Cassandra exclaimed while pulling the hood
on the head. - If Margeaux get hurt, need care.
- What about the child you carry? - Meg grabbed her arm.
- No evil will befall me. Also, I'm not alone. I have every
faith in the world that Truan can wield a sword like wields a
apple.
At first, it was snowing lightly when they followed the tracks, and
Cassandra hopes rose at the thought that soon reach
Margeaux. Then the anger of the silly stepsister to risk themselves and
unborn child turned into concern as the hours
passed and were forced to into the forest.
Truan followed behind, pulling the horse.
- It is not prudent to continue - he said, with the brows closed.
- Is still unclear. I can see the traces.
- Do not let the danger.
- There is no danger. Besides Margeaux, the only creature that we might
finding is in search of a rabbit burrow.
She laid her hand on his shoulder Truan and felt the warmth of his body, despite the
cold. He worried about it, because only wore a tunic and trousers tucked
in boots.
- Margeaux can be sharp tongue , but we must look at the child .
- Is the child I'm thinking. Do not like the sounds of the forest - said
Truan .
- I hear nothing - Cassandra murmured when using the human sense of
hearing.
- Exactly - he replied , his lips pursed . - We noticed the wind
blowing in the trees , but we hear the rustling of the leaves and feel the
bursts . It is not natural .
Careful to follow the tracks in the snow , Cassandra closed her other senses
to her surroundings . She frowned as she realized what Truan implied .
- We have come this far - she replied , with a sudden uneasiness. -
We cannot go back now .
The light was extinguished in the sky , the darkness fell, the storm progressed. the
horses continued , guided by inner vision of Cassandra , who did not
could see them with mortal eyes . Then , ahead, a dark shape
loomed on the whiteness of the snow .
Truan stepped forward. Cassie hurried to follow him .
- What is it?
He returned the impenetrable expression.
- Not Margeaux . Is the horse . So she must be nearby . Maybe.
- What happened ? Find anything ?
Truan said nothing to guide her away from the fallen horse. Cassie looked
for the poor creature , thinking that succumbed a broken leg or exhaust. Neither one thing nor the
other. all
what remained Horse Margeaux was a ghastly housing, as
had been there for months. The only way to recognize it was the
piece of torn cloth stuck in the saddle shoulder. The same tissue
Margeaux dress she wore that morning.
- Come back - Truan said.
- We cannot! She is here. Not return until he finds it. -
Cassandra looked at the sky without light to find the way.
- Only a few minutes more. Margeaux may not have gone so far to walk.
If you do not find it soon, come back.
- Only light up while there - Truan said, in a voice that brooked no
discussion. - And yet, Lord Stephen'll rip my skin alive.
- It was my decision.
- I do not think he be convinced. Moved on, the storm
to burst in thunders while a cold enregelar whipped them,
making it impossible to see and breathe even so they met
forced to cover their faces, only leaving out the eyes.
Cassandra launched the thoughts away, looking through
darkness, trying to find something to indicate the direction Margeaux
hopefully.
- Ali! - Pointed through the blinding snow. - She's close.
Slipped from the saddle and stepped on the ground covered with snow, guided by the vision
interior, as if the sun shone.
Then fear came over her to find what you are looking for. Not far beyond
few meters, saw sunk in snow Margeaux. Hastened with Truan
behind the manly voice to penetrate your mind a shout
warning.
Cassandra found Margeaux as seen in the inner vision. was
huddled in the snow. He called her to take her in his arms, blame the invalid
because of all the harsh words they had exchanged both. The
Margeaux head lolled back, her wide, empty eyes,
terrified.
- Help me! - Cassandra cried when Truan reached the clearing. When
address and attempt to lift Margeaux, felt he was too light. then
saw the bloodstained snow under the body. - She is evil. Baby ... -
Pushed the robe Margeaux, considering using hands endowed with the gift
cure, but Truan pulled her by the shoulder.
- Let her go!
Cassandra looked at him with startled air.
- What kind of monster are you?
- She is dead! Cannot help it!
- The child!
- See! - Truan pulled with a force that surprised. - Look at
it! - Exclaimed, energetic, making her look at the mangled body of
Margeaux and wide eyes lifeless. The robe was open on
prostrate forms. The dress, drenched in blood, torn flesh and by
also below the still warm womb of the child that had recently been
there. But he was no more.
Cassandra staggered and almost fell. The child had been torn violently
inside her and flesh torn, as if it had been attacked by some
animal.
- Baby - she murmured, shaking convulsively as the
thoughts turned to the son who bore within itself.
Truan pulled her horses.
- Baby! - Cassandra repeated, trying to get rid of, but failed. a
terrible fear began to grow inside her. - What happened to the baby?
- Although looked up the essence of the child, only darkness and felt
shadows.
- Virtually dead!
- No! Is there a chance of being alive!
Truan pulled her tighter, his fingers hurt her arms.
- Better death than what the wait!
- What are you talking about?
As if in answer, suddenly the wind seemed to come to life around them,
howling in the treetops and then sweeping the forest floor, dragging them, taking them to the air
from the lungs. Terrified, the horses
reared and went into a run, disappearing into the swirling darkness
and biting cold that quickly closed around Cassandra and Truan,
as if some enraged animal had attacked the forest.
Truan Cassandra pulled her shoulders.
- We need to find shelter - shouted over the howling wind, the
pushed in all directions, looking try to separate them.
But there was no shelter. It was as if they were drifting
a glacial world of wind and darkness that were not of this earth.
Cassandra turned his thoughts to the intimate and summoned the power of the Light,
drawing him as he held the hand of Truan to give you heat. a
strange weakness pervaded and she gasped in pain, as if the cold
penetrate to the child that was in her womb.
Truan felt unusual energy that swayed and then the chill that
Cassandra ran through. Without a word, he took the mantle of their
shoulders as darkness was closing. He pushed her to the ground, protecting it
with his own body. When he wrapped the blanket around both,
Cassandra caught a glimpse of a shadowy thing, their own darkness, an evil
Penetrating made of despair, death and destruction, so huge and voracious that
she realized, with the soul, mankind could not survive
to that. And I wanted to reach it.
Pulling the cloak tightly around the two, Truan glanced
the clearing, through the storm. Saw a figure crouched in the snow and
slowly stood up, naked, malformed, a dark shadow. And when
rise, increased the size of a child to the size of a man.
While the snow and wind whirled in eddies around, the creature looked
back.
For a long time, it might just be the interval between two
heartbeat, and the creature stared Truan. Then she turned and fled
by storm, swallowed by the darkness, as if it never was
appeared there.

And Truan was sure, deep in the soul, for he had seen the son of
Margeaux.
It was as if invisible hands were pulling the edges around them, closing the
mantle, sealing them against the cold in a heat shield which glowed with the power of
Light and Hope. A golden cocoon that kept the darkness off a
where the darkness could not get a safe place that housed them,
and the unborn child of Cassandra.
You could not know how much time had passed. Only the wind ceased to
roaring around. Slowly, the light inside the shelter seemed to slip under the
hem of the robe. Wordlessly, Truan rose, the look of a warrior
scour the clearing, but with an expression that Cassandra had never seen
before.
Mute, pulled her up, wrapped her in the cloak again; drifted
away and left the forest. They found the horses, trembling and eyes
haggard, the edge of the meadow.
The distance, the lights of the guard towers flickered in the niches. huge
bonfires lit the outside patio. With the glow of the flames, saw the
gates open and mounted warriors who gathered.
Cassandra felt that Stephen had returned. But any sense of relief was
clouded by a new and more desperate distress. He and his men
gathered to invest against Malagraine.
With a simple touch, Truan quieted the horses and helped her mount.
Neither spoke during the ride to the gates of Camelot.
The cry came from the battlements when they were sighted. Old Meg found the
the doors of the hall, the sightless eyes staring intensely Cassandra.
- Lady Margeaux?
- You are dead.
When connecting to the thoughts of the old, Cassandra discovered that most
feared.
- Yes - Meg murmured, very serious. - They will attack the
Malagraine.
Cassandra quickly climbed the stairs toward the starry chamber. to
entered the room, vibrant energy, as Stephen and his men
planning strategy, she said Truan, that followed:
- Say nothing of what we saw.
Down the steps to the imposing grounds, feeling the black shadow of
events that could not prevent or change weighing you at every step.
Like that earlier era, Stephen Knights took their
places around the Round Table, with gleaming swords blades
to converge on the central point at the table. When Truan joined them,
Stephen lifted his head from crudely drawn maps. its
gaze met Cassandra changes in the communication of love and passion, and
she felt something she had never seen those eyes before: fear.
Then disappeared, and he leaned once again concentrates thoughts
what we find ahead. Stephen had no time to
Cassandra at the moment but She stood there for a moment, listening to the discussions of the
battle, observing the serious faces, but mostly looking at Stephen, to
hold in every detail to memorize them, while a feeling of something
inevitable slowly enveloped.
Left, finally, knowing they would share a few hours before he and
his men departed, and unsure of what she should do the same.
Found the old woman sitting before the fire in the lord room. Cassandra
reached for the fire to ward off the cold, which seemed to have it
penetrated deeply after that encounter in the forest. A cold
which could not shake. Bowed his protective hand over her stomach
rounded by her dress.
Meg looked at her with unseeing eyes. Felt an acceptance had not felt before
Cassandra. The anger and defiance were gone, as well as
stubborn resistance to receive the legacy that was born with. Not needed
no gift of insight to know that her thoughts were
facing the child she carried in her womb. A child for whom no
future if Cassandra would not accept his legacy.
Cassie looked at the open on the table tapestry, the shadowy images
uncertain and as terrible as those found in the woods, the slender shape
barely visible where it had woven with the threads to capture the light and sparkling blue by
a moment, and the next bright violet. Itself. your destination
found itself in non-wovens.
- Tell me what I should know.
When I heard everything, sat next to Meg and asked:
- Is there any hope?
- There is always hope.
Cassandra ran her fingers over the embroidered images of a woman whose
was the same blood that flowed in his veins. I had no idea it could
be an answer.
- Only need to reach out to reach it - said Meg, before the
unasked question.
Cassie turned his thoughts to the intimate, drawing the power
crossing time and space, as he had done months before, by focusing on
just two words: my sister.
And in the chill of the room, she felt the warmth of the love of a kindred spirit, which
came in response.

That night, when Cassandra and Stephen lay down on the bed of fur,
something was moving in the act of love, a new urgency that seemed
Cassandra flowing into Stephen, a communication almost
frantic. For his part, given the certainty of battle that would further;
her, before the fate that awaited her, but about which no Cassandra
could tell anyone.
Then Stephen hugged her tightly, feeling the energy coming from
Cassandra, feeling her own life, the volume of the child, and comforted
to know that, whatever it was that expected, which had shared
that son would live.
When dawn was born, Stephen stood up to get dressed.
Cassandra clung to him, her eyes brimming. They did not exchange any
word. Finally, Stephen walked away and got dressed in the dark, shining sword
the body side. Cassandra wrapped up in furs and left the bed.
- I have a present for you. - He went to the table near the fireplace and took
something. It was a rune with the image of a woman carved in
flat surface. - It is the other half of you caught me - told
put it in the palm of Stephen. - If a warrior carries, say
that carries that he loves.

Stephen's fingers slid down the rock, a caress. Then took the
cord with the other rune neck and placed it in Cassandra, saying:
- Until the two pieces of stone are met.
Her features were pale and weary, filled with a sadness of
heartbreaking. He pulled her into his arms with the strength of despair, the
hands to stroke and caress every detail of his face, as if wanting
memorize it. The mouth, incredibly tender, kissed her one last time.
- Do not follow me into the courtyard. I want to remind you exactly
as it is now, warm with the heat of my love - murmured against
Cassandra lips, salty tears running down her cheeks.
Then his hand rested lovingly on the belly swelled with
infinite affection. - Take care of my son.
Then exited.
Shortly later, the outdoor patio was quiet and desert.
Stephen and his men had gone, and with them Truan .
Cassandra straightened his cloak over his shoulders and tied . With a last
thought, took the polished rune wearing now neck and which
Stephen had seized the first time they had met .
He had used since the clear and unusual stone with the image of
still hot warrior of his vital essence . Cassandra hung in
neck, the stone resting against his heart. The other half , one that
Stephen wore now was the perfect complement to a woman throughout
its glorious nakedness. When the two halves joined , it was as if
lovers knitting together . Cassandra smiled because Stephen did not like
knowing the fate that awaited him when taken possession of the stone .
She would stay in that room and wait for the return of the beloved . pass
all his days there with Stephen , feel the child grow strong and then
experience the pleasurable pain of bringing the child into the world and put it in
father's arms . But he could not .
- Forgive me for what I do - Cassandra murmured to send their
thoughts to it.
The wolf followed his hand claws to scratch the rocks when she came out and
entered the starry chamber. There, in that place where the old king ruled
a legendary kingdom of hope and light, Cassandra summoned his powers. The
portal opened. And she went through, accompanied by Fallon, a mission
seeks to fulfill the legacy that was born with.
The light circled Cassandra, moved through it and then exploded with
a whitish intensity that was almost blinding.
Images flashed a bright blur of color, light and time, impossible to
discern. Voices, like a multitude of souls, called murmured,
laughed, cried, saying sweet words, and spoke of lost dreams
dreams realized.
Remember ...
"Five hundred years before she paraded generations, multitudes of lives
Only experienced and then remembered and then exceeded beyond
memory to the legend. Only a single step separating the time and place
she was born, a world that, for some, existed only in myth.
The light fell, was extinguished as Cassandra passed by the portal to
enter the starry chamber. Not as the left, but as outside, with
Round Table in the center of the large room, the noble and gleaming wood,
carved panels with those Latin words: honor, bravery, courage
and loyalty.
Slowly, he turned to the table, his fingers touching each of the twelve places
with a medallion carved in wood. Each one had a badge. a
was slightly larger than the others and bore the royal insignia of the conductor,
Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.
- We were waiting for you.
Startled, Cassandra turned around. The man who had spoken was in
landing of the stairs.
He was tall and skinny. The blue tunic she wore came to her knees, then
above the boots that shaped the long thighs. His hair was dark
and fell to his shoulders. Above the dark and full beard, the eyes were
intense shade of blue.
He was young, no older than Stephen, and moved with the same
intensity. Could be a warrior, a scholar or a king. used the
Medallion high royal advisor.
For a moment, Cassandra was too stunned to speak. emotions
invaded, surprise, disbelief, anger, along with other feelings
buried for so long that she does not know name when faced with
the counselor of King Arthur. Merlin. His father!
Finally, Cassandra found her voice:
- You do not understand. I came because ...
- I know why you came - he said. As he turned, grabbed her by the arm. - remains
shortly. May even now be too late. - He opened the door.
Cassandra had no choice but to accompany him.
The starry chamber was in silence, looking frozen in
time. In contrast, the rest of Camelot exploded into frenetic activity
over which hung an atmosphere of despair. Camelot was under
siege.
Merlin took her to the royal chambers. Cassandra pushed the door, attracted
by their own memories shared with Stephen in that same room,
that another time. Then he saw the king.
Legend and myth intertwined with reality in man
lay in bed with thick skins. It was beautiful, auburn hair
strut cut and, in the fullness of manhood, the body over the
fill the bed. Above the sheet that covered him, Cassandra saw her shoulders and
bare chest. He was panting with effort, in short, hard breaths.
His knights around him, his features gaunt and exhausted. The blood
Battle smeared them with tunics. All carried swords. in looks
tense, expectant, Cassandra realized it was the last hope
he was so close to death.
The steady hand of Merlin on his back gently guided her forward. But it was the
compassion and irrepressible sadness that made her raise her hand and put it down
on the fallen king. He had no fever, just badness death that
looming.
- Need to do everything in their power, lady - one of
Knights begged, standing beside the bed, all forming a ring
shield, swords glinting in the light of the lamps.
A tear-stained face looked at her across the bed. the features
exhausted, delicate, the cascade of golden hair that fell over his
shoulders slouch suffering in sweet gray eyes of the Queen
betrayed. But Cassandra saw only suffering that look, in the words
murmured the colorless lips:
- Please ...
She agreed, even though he felt the futility of the effort.
- I'll do what I can. - He approached the bed and lifted the edge of the sheet.
One of the riders raised a lamp above his head.
The king was seriously injured. Had three deep drilling sword
that had been bandaged to stop the bleeding. Each wound in
itself could be cured, but all do not.
Even now, when placing a hand on his chest heaving and open mind, Cassandra
felt death upon him, and listened to the wheezing of the lungs, as the king
fought each gulp of air. Yet fight to save his life, to retain
that precious life force with the silent thought: It would be able to
change all that if he survived?
Closed wounds and joined muscles and tendons. Met the vital force within
herself with that last fierce energy with which the king clung to this
world.
Through that link, during the long hours, Cassandra met
boy of your dreams, your ambitions as a warrior and king, his greatest
joys and greatest sorrows, and his love for the woman who kept vigil
tearful at his side.
Almost near dawn, several hours after she had passed through the gate, the
King slowly opened his eyes and looked at his knights. Her breath
subsided. The suffering of the fight was gone from his face.
One by one, called out the names of their riders. One by one, they lifted
swords before him while sobbing softly queen. The king touched him
hands, intertwining his fingers with hers. A touch that somehow touched Cassandra
deeply and made her want to look away before too much tenderness. era
as if he saw something too intimate to be shared only by two
people.

- Forgive me - he muttered. The queen raised her face streaked with tears, the
pained expression and full of anguish. - Forgive me for not believing
you as you believed me. - The breathing became shallower, and
he struggled to say the next words with a last dying breath,
words that could be both for her and for his knights: -
Remember, what once was can be again.
His chest heaved, up and down. And then did not go up more. The hand lay motionless
in the Queen's eyes stared the last thing he had chosen to see in my lifetime:
the woman he loved.

Tears flooded her eyes Cassandra. In all legends, in all
the stories told and retold around the fire at night, through the
centuries, nobody had spoken those last moments, when the king had become
man again, the body subject to the frailties of any being,
vulnerable to sword and sorrows of the human heart.
The king was dressed in their best costumes, care in death by those who
they had served in life. Their riders. Then his sword was placed at
beside him. While in the hills and mountains in the distance, a large army
gathered an army of Darkness, the time left to Cassandra,
Camelot was preparing for the end of history and how to represent their role
the legend.
The streets were soon deserted, covered only by warriors and
armed knights, the last of the once powerful military Arthur,
virtually destroyed in a place called the broad moor, the king betrayed by
one of his most loyal knights. At another time in the future, call the
Brodmir place where another battle had taken place. What was once
can be again.
The leaden sky seemed to fall upon the dark mountains. a wind
cold penetrated through the courtyard and halls, casting shadows on the walls of
filling sandstone and dark corners.
Cassandra felt a presence in the room, an essence that was part of
past and future, deeply connected to it through blood
shared. His father.
- What about the Queen? - She asked.
- Taken to a safe place right now - Merlin replied.


Cassandra knew that, according to legend, the queen would live there for the rest of
his days in quiet seclusion, closed to the world, alone with his
dreams and memories.
- You also need to go - Merlin told him, express distress in
words. - Only Knights Arthur should be here. Remain until the
end.
- What about you? He smiled ruefully.
- I have my own destiny to fulfill.
- A destination that need not be so - Cassandra hastened to say.
- I came here because ...

- I know why you came, Cassandra - he murmured, with a tenderness that
left speechless. Dazed, stared at him. Not even told you the name. -
I was waiting for you.
- You know why I came?
- It was anticipated - he said. Then his voice broke: - When I heard,
tried to stop, so nothing that could achieve it.
Reached out a young man born with immortal powers, already glimpsed
their own destiny, and to see him, summoning a vision of the future. And that future
stood before him.
He longed to touch her, that beautiful young offspring of the future. Her daughter.
Cassandra, however, did not know how he knew. As seen in their
visions, that daughter had powers almost as big as his, and returned
in time to claim a hope for the future.
Merlin closed his fingers into a fist empty. No time to heal
suffering and anger. That would only happen in the future. There was just time for
help Cassandra.
She felt her father's thoughts invaded his mind and resisted. The
choice we made back there was not for him, but the child
carried.
- Just tried to protect her and her sisters the only way he could -
he said while reading his thoughts.
Cassandra could not believe it. Spent a lifetime hating him for it.
Outside the walls of Camelot, rose a strong wind. Shook windows and doors and then
turned out the flames lamps, bringing with it the smell of battle and death.
The bedroom, suddenly froze. As cold as in the forest, on the morning
Cassandra and Truan had followed Margeaux. As cold as death.
Merlin felt too.

- No more time - said, distressed. Grabbed her by the wrist. - You need to go.
Leave before it's too late. Before the Darkness find it here
too.

Fled through the dark corridors, with Fallon to jump to the next Cassandra.
Knights of Arthur found the entrance to the starry chamber
entered and passed the bar by massive huge double doors. Ali, Sir
Bors, Melodor and the other knights drew their swords and prepared
to make the final hurdle when the darkness found them and invest.
Suddenly, the doors were battered incessantly, snapping the boards
and moan. Were broken into splinters when they started to sag. The smoke
seeping through the cracks, as the fire progressed. Soon the darkness would fall
about them.
Cassandra Merlin pushed to the farthest corner of the room, in
the back wall, where the insignia of Arthur off set in stone, a
circular emblem repeated in the pattern of the Round Table. The circle of life and
the promise of what would be again.
Drew his sword when more blows slammed into the door, the smoke to fill the room.
Finally timber relented and Darkness swarmed over them.
Merlin raised his sword on
head and lunged at the center of the emblem etched in stone.
Sparks spread when the steel hit the rock wall. The center
The Stone Circle leaned over and opened. Small niche in the center of the
badge had a suspended spherical crystal inside a golden ring.
It was the size of a man's hand and perfectly round, one
magnificent crystal floating orb that golden, turning slowly,
million reflecting lights like stars in the sky. If the darkness is
take possession of it, there would be no hope for the future.
- Take it - Merlin said. - That's why you came. It is the only
hope for the future.
Cassandra stared when those dark warriors with death by
behind the black helmets, paved the way and entered the chamber.
- Come with me - she asked vehemently. - You can see the future. If you stay,
will be banished to the mists.
He shook his head.
- If I could I meet you in your time, then you would not exist.
This is my destiny, Cassandra. Must meet his.
One by one, the valiant knights of Arthur fell under the swords of
Darkness, in the same places where they would be found in five centuries
future, with weapons in their hands reduced to powder.
- Need to go now! - Merlin told her daughter, pushing her to the back wall of the chamber.
Then smiled sweetly. - Your future is my future. - He turned to face the darkness
that seemed to reach him with outstretched hands, in the forms of those horrible
warriors with death in helmets.

- Santa!
At the sound of that word, Merlin turned and looked at her, his blue eyes sparkle with
intensity. Cassandra hesitated when he joined his powers to her
summoning the light and opened the gate. Cassandra sent away as
done at another time, to protect her. Fallon jumped through the portal with
it.
The portal closed behind Cassandra, and she heard those distant sounds
battle, fierce cries of brave knights and fought as
died, and thought full of tenderness and love that is connected to your
mind.
I'll always be with you, my daughter.
Cassandra stepped forward, from one world to another, visions and
the marching sounds, images appearing and then disappearing, forces
powerful to pull her toward the light.
Oracle held the Light in one hand and the rune stone on another, as
a talisman to guide her home.
So was following, and through the opening in front, saw the starry chamber.
He took another step and immediately realized something was wrong.
It was the same enclosure, and yet was not. Was changed, somehow changed, was
not the world just leave or that whence, but a world between worlds
where there was light, only darkness.
He turned and tried to return through the portal, drawing power from itself
to keep the passage open. But felt invisible forces that pulled
and knew that the powers of darkness were there. She had been followed by
portal when she fled.
Cassandra reached into the slit in an attempt to retain power, but if
became weaker with each passing moment, closing itself. E
as it closed, she saw Fallon running toward you.
- Come back! - Cassandra shouted a warning, when the opening began
collapse. She felt a brush of hair against the hand, the velvet heat of
language Fallon, and then the portal closed. The wolf disappeared.
Cassandra turned back to the starry chamber and felt the sudden cold
that closed around him. While trying to leave the room, he found that there
could. Some kind of invisible wall prevented.
No matter in what direction tried to escape, found himself blocked by
that wall of ice that slowly closed around it. until
Cassandra could no longer move.
Tried to gather his powers, but found she could not. then his
thoughts seemed fogging. And there was always that chill
seeping into his blood, as if to penetrate deep
reach the child.
Cassandra directed the mind to its interior, surrounding the child as
last glimmer of warmth inside, to protect it with the last ray of light
struggling feebly to resist. And the last thing I thought when a
single tear trickled down her face and joined the ice that en-capsulara,
was Stephen.
Remember ...
The portal opened up a world to another, a narrow band of light
glowed faintly and then flickered and gradually became weaker. The
Wolf claws buried by the elusive opening and fell on the other side. Caught in
his white hair, was the rune stone.

Chapter IX




Stephen and his men rode the muddy fields near
Brodmir, where they had faced in battle with Malagraine. However,
with prophetic accuracy, he learned that Malagraine not post it
again lurking in the forest. And so were that narrow plain
Splay to face an enemy they had found two other times.
Many thoughts upset your mind. All to culminate into one.
Cassandra and the son she bore in her womb. His son.
Had not exchanged words in the hours before departure. only one
Statement of contact when making love as if it could be the last
time. Now, there was so much he wished he had told her ...
I loved her, that honored above all, that would not make a bastard
son carried Cassandra, who pronounce vows link with him
where and when it chooses, as long as the joy and passion that
discovered next to Cassandra lasted forever.
Forever. An expression that had different meanings for
both.
Cassandra was not really deadly. For her, "forever" meant
"forever," as long as he could imagine. For him, "to
always "were the moments spent in his arms, and if they were
past, then he would know that she was his forever.
So he concentrated his thoughts on the impending battle, and everything else was
forgotten.
In the distant hills, the army Malagraine congregated. a
training serpentine, dark, frenzied death and destruction. It had been days
were gathered there, to grow in number until the hillsides
recobriram is black with that dark swarm.
- Many - Gavin said softly, not with fear, but with that
resolution have faced many enemies in battle and see before
a scary now facing them. - Reminds me of Hastings,
when we fought alongside King William the.
- Yes - Stephen answered, his eyes fixed on that distant hillside
while his men flanked left and right, a wedge. -
Only now, we are slightly inferior in terms of numbers.
When the battle was unleashed, would advance against the enemy, impelling
that wedge in the heart of those human beasts.
For a moment he thought of his father Stephen, and has envisaged him in mind
hope of dying with dignity. with its death, perhaps the king finally showed a little pride that could
not show for it in life.
The sharp look of your Truan found. Stephen could have sworn I saw an air
Laughing here.
- Maybe a little - Truan recognized when scanning the hillside. -
I estimate that there is a difference of twenty to one.
- That's it? - Gavin asked, incredulously, to join in the fun. Did an air
of derision. - So we have nothing to worry about. - Looked at
Stephen. Both knew that the difference came close to thirty to one. -
We face this inequality in Antioch, when you earned your
spurs rider. It was a good day. And this will also be a day of glory.
Stephen nodded, as his gaze scanned the sky and the weak sun that finally shown
between the clouds.
- It's a good day.
The valley, a loud roar echoed as the beast seemed to stretch.
Stephen drew his sword.
- You are a great warrior - told Truan. - You can protect
my back.
Truan jabbed him that penetrating gaze that was both laughing as
Valour.
- You can save my back, English. And do not fail. I have no desire
some feel the blade abomination to cut off the head of my
shoulders.
Then he spurred his horse forward and let out a mighty battle cry.
The answer came from that distant hillside.

As the bestial training shuddered and then trickled down
that hill in the distance, Stephen raised his sword and gave the order to
attacked the very heart of the enemy.
An explosion of steel, the bodies collide, and blood, were confronted
that little plain. The abomination clearly showed
stupefied. Malagraine not expected counter-attack, so few
were in number as large disparities. Having miscalculated once,
not make the same mistake when closing the army around them.
In the center of the battle, Stephen left his horse and went to the ground to
way through the warriors of black helmets around him, the
Shred them, cut them, shoot them, his knees sinking into the mud, which
quickly tinged with the blood of his men.
He Truan and fought with their backs to each other, while a few steps
ahead, Sir Gavin and the rest of his men formed a defensive circle
which slowly restricted. So Stephen felt a change in
warrior who fought against, a hesitation that there had been before. And
above the sounds of fighting echoed a familiar battle cry.
At the top of the slopes above where Malagraine column started its charge,
a vibrant dazzling line of purple and gold appeared glistening under
the sun at noon.

With battle flags waved in the wind as mounted warriors
invested downhill, brightness highlighting badges on their
coats, the insignia of Normandy, Anjou and the Poitoirs, along with the
royal Standard a lion with his front paws raised in a blue background.
Swarmed the hill, close to the rear of Malagraine.
When it was over, Stephen and his men found themselves in a sea
of fallen warriors. Helmets, to be pushed back, revealed
the faces of Saxon rebels, mercenaries, but in some, there was
features. Truan kicked the side of the helmets, the expression transformed into a
hard mask. Nearby, Gavin supported John Lacey. With the amount of
blood covering both was impossible to tell who was more wounded.
Stephen leaned heavily on his sword hilt,
while mounted warriors who had come down the hill and Wholesale
Malagraine behind, slowly advancing along the fallen soldiers.
Reined horses and pushed back their helmets.
Stephen made a gesture of appreciation to face them.
- What brought them so far?
Tarek al Sharif, when dismounting with that graceful and easy way of tribes
the desert where he was born, moved the hand to rest on scimitar
bloody stuck in waist.
- Our friend here wanted to see how you fared in charge of your
own army.
Stephen squinted to see through the helmet of the man still
mounted, he was a brother, father and mentor to him. Rorke Fitzwarren, high
Chancellor of King William. The warrior dismounted and pushed the protection
the helmet back.
- You did good, my friend - Rorke said while hugging Stephen. - From unwisely but well.
Ignored the basic rule of battle. Never let an enemy know your true strength.
Stephen frowned and glanced beyond friend,
for the king's army, now encamped on the battlefield.
- The enemy did not know my true strength! - Exclaimed. And then,
added - neither. Who told you where to find us?
A lone rider crept across the line of warriors assembled. under
Sunset noon, the glossy cover of her hair was like a waterfall
fire. Rorke Fitz-Warren approached and with a possessive gesture
tenderness, helped slender young dismount.
- My sister - she murmured. - Cassandra.

- Where is she? - Stephen asked, furious, to pound the table on
main hall in Camelot, doing jingles and platters spilling one
Pitcher, who exploded onto the stone floor.
Truan Amber gently pulled back to protect her from the huff
Stephen and pottery shards flying while fleeing Pippen
to hide under a basket turned upside down.
Rorke Fitzwarren and his knights watched everything with increasing
restlessness.
- Where did she go? - Stephen asked again. - There is no one
can tell me?
Finally, the old Meg approached, the blind gaze guided by the sound of the voice
and anger.
- Fulfill your destiny as you knew she needed to do.
- What do you mean, old?
She put the rolled tapestry on the table before him. With a nod
skeletal hand embroidery opened, bright images of battles,
of knights and warriors, the dark and mysterious powers
apparently living in glittering frames.
- Is your destination. You showed her the pictures of the tapestry.
- Where? - He asked. - How?
- Cassandra set out to find the Oracle of Truth.
- She did not. Did not even talk about it.
- Stubbornness and anger - retorted Meg - Until I was afraid that all
could be lost.
Stephen put his hands on the table, refusing to look at the needlepoint in
struggle to not believe, even after having been confronted with the darkness
twice before, and again, that recent battlefield,
where so many had died and Malagraine escaped. Knew the power
evil, but also did not trust the old.
- How to convince? What dark power used to change her heart?
Meg felt his suffering. -Ached for him, for he knew that Stephen
lost the heart and soul to the Daughter of Light, to fulfill that indicated
images viewed the first glimpse of the tapestry, the figures
intertwined Lovers holding hands in the pattern of the plot, and they were now
separated.

- I could not convince her, not in a thousand years - she replied,
sincerely. - For never possessed such a power. - So let it
awestruck. - It was you who convinced.
- I! - Stephen exclaimed, incredulous and furious. - You went crazy,
woman. I never would convince it. - His voice faltered, in part
anger, partly from impotence. - I never send to death.
- Convinced her because of the passion and love that Cassandra found
with you - Meg said, sweetly. - And the child growing in the womb
her.
- Explain yourself!
A thin hand stroked Meg tapestry, strong plots and secure where
were embroidered and tell a story.
- The events that have already begun to move - ran her fingers over
lovers; the warrior and the Daughter of Light, the images made there also and
then the two separate hands. Then the shadowy forms that
loomed beyond. - What was, what is and what will be - said. - The future of
humanity. Lost if the darkness can not be prevented. no
any future for the child she carries way.
Meg felt the question that still afflicted Stephen.
- It's because of what Cassandra found in the forest - explained. - O
he saw there convinced as anything I could tell you. when
returned, demanded to know I needed to do.
If I had not spoken, she would have extracted the
notice of me by the old method. I could not stop her.
Stephen recalled that day when I heard after Cassandra
been in the forest.

- You were with her that day! - He exclaimed, as he turned to
Truan. - What Cassandra found in forest?
The anguish tore while listening and acquaint brutal death
Margeaux, the storm that nearly killed them, and the meeting with the
Darkness.
- The Darkness came to claim her offspring - Meg murmured, his voice
prophetic. - Born of flesh, but with powers that can only be
imagined and feared.
- That was not in your fabric, old tapestry - Stephen declared with
bitterness.
- A child - Meg admitted to rummage in memory. - It was anticipated
the plots. A life for a life.
- But that child? - He asked. - A of Margeaux or Cassandra?
Meg did not answer, and Stephen realized she could not.
- More - said Meg, when he felt that he would watch. extended
hand. Fingers hung on a string, a polished and flat stone that looked
by half, as if the other was missing.
On it was engraved the figure of a warrior. Cassandra was the stone that
received back.

- Was found on the floor of the chamber starry - explained Meg - At the base
the great emblem, when the wolf returned alone, almost near death.
Stephen knelt beside the white wolf. The animal looked at him with great
wise and silver eyes, and then licked her hand. Since out
found in the starry chamber had recovered enough matchday
the portal, though still very weak. Fallon only knew what
happened beyond the portal. Through Wolf, there could be a
chance to find Cassandra.
- Can it be done?

Lady Vivian knelt next to the wolf, in the manner of those with
special powers who are not afraid of wild creatures. The wolf aceitoua
as if he knew, and was perhaps so, since it shared links with
its owner.
Her hair spread over her shoulders in a cascade of fire. she
reminded of another person with that same upturned nose, the same
curve of the faces, the stubborn chin, and eyes that were several shades lighter,
but it had the same interior light power that burned within
Merlin's daughters.
Vivian brushed face on rough coat wolf, eyes closed, as if
had drawn the essence of the creature inside himself.
- Maybe - muttered. - He keeps the aura of that last moment
he touched. Through this, there may be a medium.

- There must be a way! - Stephen exclaimed vehemently. Not accept that it is lost
to me.
The words were like a reminder of another warrior who was willing
to face the darkness to find it. Vivian put her hand on arm
Stephen. Were friends and had shared a lot. He risked his life
once it. And Vivian knew would gladly into the young man who
taken possession of his heart.
He stood up, his hand resting on the wolf head, in a similar way with
what Cassandra touched the animal.
- The memory of the journey is within Fallon - said, very serious. - If the
Trip must be taken, it must be the guide for the way back.
Stephen stood up, seized with anxiety. There was more than just that.

Could feel.
- What else?
- I do not know if I can open the portal. The power that was originally opened
Cassandra. But the truth is that, once opened a passage from a
world to the other, is an indication.
He looked around in distress.
- That statement?
- An essence energy left behind. The very essence that still
cling to the fur of the wolf.
When you close your eyes, Vivian concentrated his power. Then, to reach out,
let sprout from your fingertips. His skin became sparkling
with traces of light, as if a thousand stars on hand.

He walked toward the back wall of the chamber, where that badge
Antique carved out in stone, and passed his hand slowly over each
cm of the surface. Finally, exclaimed:
- Found it!
A beam of light appeared on the stone as she slid her hand across
length of the wall, to sparkle with the reflection of flicker emanating from
his fingers.
- You are very thin - said to Stephen. Then he looked up. -
Cassandra had the wolf back, even with the almost closed portal with
the power he had left.
An icy cold settled in Stephen.
- Is she dead?
- Death is not the same for us as it is for ordinary mortals. -
Vivian shook her head. - Cassandra is not dead. But neither
is truly alive.
- Email me at portal now! - Stephen exclaimed. - Before
essence disappears and there is no way of finding her.
Vivian was going to protest. Tell him the risk of a journey so uncertain, that
could not even take him to Cassandra, nor ensure that it was
Stephen possible return. There was a much greater possibility that it
not found, but entered a dimension, a world within
a world where it could be lost forever. Then her gaze the husband, who had come to stand beside
her.

- Do what you can - he told her. - The fate it is to choose.
Vivian put her hand against the stone badge and concentrated all his
powers. It was very different from where he was born into the world and
where Merlin banished, familiar thing as the act of breathing, how to join
a room known through the stones. But what I did now was
seek the unknown, and open up a world traveling through time and space,
to another. Required enormous concentration of power and elements she
never had.
The power flickered inside Vivian. It was too difficult. I could not!
Suffering in the concentration, family and loved voices heard. His mother and
her father to pick her up, each of the world that now occupied, joining their
powers to her. So, they felt the strong hand. The mighty hand. The
hand of a warrior.
- Maybe we can open together - Truan said while closing his hand over hers,
wall. The faint spark of light suddenly glowed and expanded.
He ran the whole length of the wall and then opened.
Stephen was already next to the couple, with Fallon to follow him.
- I believe there is much we do not tell me - he told his friend that
fought so well in his defense in the battle on the plain of Brodmir.
Surprisingly good. Or perhaps not so surprising,
after what he had just seen.
- I'll tell you when you get back - Truan promised - because I can not
accompany him on this journey. It is my destiny. Mine is yet to come.

Vivian stood beside them, looking at the beautiful warrior, trying
dive into his thoughts by ancient means that he might know
truth. He stared at her.
- Do not mess with me, Vivian. Cannot win.
She stared at him, angry because he could not unravel her mind.
- Do not fret, my wife - Rorke murmured. - At least, let
alone a man on this earth who can keep secrets from you. - When
approach Stephen handed him the sword he had carried in battle
against the army of Malagraine.
It was an ornate sword with a hilt elegantly
carved and whose top was a single blue gemstone, gleaming.
Excalibur.
- I brought just for you - explained. - Was ordered by another
person who trusts him so much the sword as the daughter of her own daughter.
- I'll bring both back with me.
- Remember - Rorke advised. - Nothing is what it seems in the world where
will. Cannot trust what you see or believe.
- So, what can I trust?
- Only in feel.
- I remember. - With sword in hand, Stephen knelt beside Fallon. - You must find it for me. Should
be in my eyes
darkness.
Fallon jumped through the portal. Stephen followed him, taking a step toward the
Light. With his hand gripping the thick fur of the animal's neck, began the journey.

Previously, he had traveled through the portal with Cassandra. However, on that occasion,
she was there, the gentle energy of your closed hand in his, guiding it,
protect him through a world of sight and sound where it was dangerous to be
mortal.
It seemed an eternity, but probably had not spent a
heartbeat when Stephen felt the sudden affliction wolf. a
energy tension that was transmitted by the sudden and powerful strain of
muscles under his hand. And then realized that he left the light thrown
out with a force that made him double over in pain.

The hand holding Fallon broke loose. All I could do was Stephen
cling to the sword. The air was sucked from his lungs, the pain ran through the
rend it, and then burned on his skin as if it was ripped from her body.
So was free portal, entering the cold darkness, as if
plunged into a dark and cold lake, the surface of the light to disappear
above, while it was taken increasingly toward the bottom of blackness.
At first he could not see or feel anything beyond that chill
amazing. Then, slowly, felt the coarse hair under the hand and heard a faint
howl. Could not see. There was no light. He tried to move and felt the
weight displacement Fallon at his side. Then he saw a bright spark
when his hand rested on the hilt of the sword.
He saw her again when moved the sword again, a reflection of light shining
the blade. Rolled over and stood up, and felt the strong presence of the wolf
against the leg.

- We are here - Stephen murmured.
But where was it? Cassandra would be there too, or would have emerged from a
uncertain journey into an unknown world?
He raised his sword in front, in the posture of a warrior. Again, captured
that reflection of light. Was fixed, looming just ahead, a point of light
could be a star or a distant door that someone had opened. Stephen
took a hesitant step, but could not determine whether it had
traveled some distance.
- Damn darkness! Takes away my ability to crawl up as a
baby.
Think!, He told himself. There should be a way out of this darkness
the smothered and surrounded him.
Twice before, he was confronted with the darkness. knew their
illusions and tricks. Things appear one way and were not. He remembered
Rorke's warning that it could not trust what he saw. Only in
feel.
In the distant empires of the East, Stephen had heard of men who
taste and see with closed eyes, without touching anything. Your friend Tarek
knew these means, the letting go of the known world, the mode
clench his senses in which normally trusted, to enable
others were opened. Would be very different to apprehend the presence of
a loved one? Become part of another by means of thoughts and
shared feelings that seemed to be that you both that
could feel, share your pain, your joy, your happiness, your passion, without
touch or see this person?
Failed to see the light and look, instead, closed his eyes. allowed
Your other senses expand, to seek, to imagine them see him.
And so he left the world he was familiar with and opened for
experience which existed around him, Stephen became
aware of many things.

The cold against his skin, the air blowing on your face, bringing the
smell of damp dark places extracted from his childhood. Then the air
assumed a specific movement, as if something passed near him.
Stephen turned instinctively and felt the brush of air again, subtle as
the touch of a feather, to guide you in a new direction.
Realized that rose, heading for the top tightly, the hand in the hair
thick Fallon at his side. Then, his shoulder brushed against something hard and
moist. Felt the trickle of water in the fingers and then heard the murmur of a
torrent. He followed the sound, moving always rising. And above that light
distance became closer, as if he climbed through or climb
the interior of a mountain.

The wolf climbed ago using the claws as support and then jumping into the
nearest point. Finally, that light was not more than a hundred
yards ahead. Stephen continued to rise, the scabbard last
on the shoulder to get his hands free in order to support.
It seemed that those last few feet never would end; but while
continued two torturous thoughts revolved her mind. to
find when he got to the top? As Cassandra bear that
climbing, if you were really there?

Finally reached the summit, that light only a short distance above.
Fallon jumped ahead.
- Wait!
But the wolf was gone. Stephen crept behind him. Even with that
Minimum brightness, squinted at the sudden glare
compared to the dark passageway which had risen. He looked around and realized
that was on top of a mountain. Immediately recognized.
Days before looked toward that same mountain, with army
Malagraine to spread the slopes.
However, the slopes that now cover below, there was no sign of
battle. And Stephen realized that there would be. Traveled to another time
through the portal, a time in which the battle had not. or maybe happened long ago.

It was a scary thought.
Below, on the hillside, Fallon saw the gleaming coat of the wolf as a beacon
pale gray that hung over the land. Stephen crept through the rocks
and started down behind him.
Crossed the plain of Brodmir, stopping only to re-spearing eyes by
where so many had died, blood soaking the ground. Then, it was
front, running with wolves, head to where the animal was leading in a
journey that took them back to that little valley.
The terrain through which passed was naked and dead, much more than after
winter thaw. It was a place where nothing ever lived. An area of
Death, where creatures without face lurked in the shadows, appearing and then disappearing.

The hunger in his stomach growled . How many hours had passed ?
Stephen could not evaluate the sky , it was that incessant ash
never changed .
He stopped just long enough to catch his hand cupped water from a
dark pond , and then spat out , and it smelled of death stagnation.
They walked on . The wolf strove suddenly in a race
headlong . Stephen was obliged to accompany him or stay behind. The
animals seemed to have felt something , perhaps attracted by that essence
Cassandra had brought back through the portal . Stephen prayed it was .
But I could not shake the feeling that they were being conducted
for something.
Found no enemies or Dark creatures with human bodies and
Evil souls , as on the battlefield . Neither Dragon nor winged devil
stick to your eyes .
Finally , they reached the valley . In the distance he saw the pointed towers of
castle and the dark strip of water that surrounded the fortress .
Camelot .

Cassandra had stepped outside as he passed by. And also the place where
seek out the Oracle. Camelot they had shared, and one that
existed five hundred years before.
Stephen ran across it, so dry bare field and chilled that neither
a tuft of grass growing there. looked at watchtowers and felt relief at the sight of the guards. The
gates
Fallon opened and leaped forward.
Inside the gates, the village was as he remembered. Huts and hovels
lined the street. The hammer of a blacksmith echoed. A cart passed.
Nearby, a woman threw food to the chickens pecked at the floor of
outdoor patio. Across the courtyard, he saw tied horses and banners of
Warriors.
Recognized them as well as the voices of his men coming from
armory. He crossed the room in long strides, looking for the gate
the internal courtyard. Fallon ran ahead.
With the growing hope in your heart, Stephen opened the gate. The light
glowed in amber glass in the window on top of the main hall.
Is it possible that Cassandra had returned at all? And to follow it in
journey he had also returned? If there was really broken ...
The doors of the great hall were open. Fallon ran past them
and disappeared, no doubt looking for Cassandra. The fire burned in
fireplace. There was food being prepared for the evening meal. Stephen saw
men sitting, as seen countless times, including Gavin.
Across the room at a rapid pace.
- Gavin! It's you!
Gavin looked at him strangely.
- Of course I am. Who could it be? Stephen shook his head.
- I thought maybe ... - His gaze turned to the steps leading to the second floor bedrooms. - Lady
Cassandra?
Gavin nodded his head.

- You're safe and secure. He returned a short time ago. The relief pervaded
Stephen.
- And the others?
- All are safe and well. Join us in a board game, and then
let's have dinner.
Stephen looked beyond friend, to ensure that things
were really good. Everything was as it had always been. The only one not
saw was Truan. It seemed strange that your friends to have fun with games and
Truan was not involved. So, the fact was overlooked. he shook
his head, his gaze drawn to the stairs again.
- Maybe later.
Gavin laughed and winked with an air of complicity.
- Your lady is very excited to see him.
- So you can understand my preference for her company to
its.
The friend agreed.
- We wait for you for the meal? Or will dine else?
Stephen ignored the coarse joke.
- Later, my friend.
He turned and walked up the steps, three at a time. Passed by a maid in
hallway outside of his quarters. The girl hurried away
when he pulled the lock and entered the room.
A fire burned low in the grate, to engage the room in soft
shadows. A tray of food found himself on the table, as if
Cassandra had guessed his return. The wine sparkled in a bowl. a
mild fragrance enveloped, a sweet perfume of lavender and sandalwood
when she stretched on the bed where he had been resting.
- My lord?
A wave of relief spilled by Stephen to the sound of his voice, the
remind him of that last morning, when he went away, the taste and feel
Cassandra strong pulsing in his senses, so he wanted
that this was his last memory. Smooth and engaging.
Watched as she got out of bed, bathed in shadows, the light of
fire the spark briefly in black satin of her hair. Cassandra does not
approached, but waited until Stephen was up to her.
- I've been waiting for - he said, as he approached and pulled her
arms.
Her body was soft and warm, and was gloriously naked under the hands
Stephen anxious. She hugged his neck, pulling him closer,
until full breasts are compressed against the strong chest, and belly, very
more grown up, pressing against the thighs of the warrior. He slid the
hands through silky, wider hips now, and she moaned softly in her
seeking lips.
An incredible softness and an unbelievable heat the seduced. in moisture
anxious that mouth to stick to it, the swollen flesh of her breasts,
cut veins, nipples dark excelled. The nails scratched Cassandra's shoulders
Stephen to open her robe and compressing his mouth against the curve of the muscle
hard chest. Then she slid her hands to the belt, move the head to
back, to loosen the bonds of pants. He pulled her against his chest.

- The child? - Asked, gruff voice, worried about her and the
baby, afraid that the act of love could hurt one of them. but
Cassandra seemed not to hear, while fighting with the cords of his pants. - Cassandra
- Stephen murmured. - We can wait.
- No! It must be now.
- I do not want to hurt her.
- It will not hurt.
- But the child has grown.
- No! - She insisted, kneeling before him. - I need you -
Cassandra whispered desperately. - Need to love me. - There was a
intonation in his voice that surprised him.
Stephen tried to calm her.
- I love her more than life itself.
Something was wrong. He had never seen her like this before. Not even that
last morning, when they separated without knowing if they would see each other
again. There had always been a quiet strength inside her.
Fear dug her claws in Stephen. There was something not Cassandra
was telling you. She was afraid for her and the unborn child, and that
outweighed any fear desire to make love. He held her gently by the wrists and pushed her away.
- What is it? Did something happen? Is it the baby? - He tried to lift it off the ground,
but she freed himself with a sudden jerk. - Cassie! To tell me.
She shuddered when he departed, his face hidden by hair.
So it seemed to cry. Softly at first, then sobbing.
- Cassie, for God's sake! What?
She lifted her head suddenly. Tried to get rid of the hands of Stephen.
When he could not, he began to laugh. Madly. The head fell back
and the hair turned from side faces, not to hide you the
features.
The eyes that stared at him were not the eyes of a deep violet
Cassandra. The mouth gaped in mad laughter was not
soft mouth Cassandra. The features that horrible face distorted not
were hers.
When Stephen tried to push the creature away, she clung to him
and turned toward the light of the fire in the brazier. A creature that was not
neither human nor alive, but a day off as well. Lady Margeaux.
Not like outside, but what was, in death. Stephen knew she was
dead. Meg told what Cassie and Truan had found in the forest.
The mutilated body Margeaux, a child torn from her. on another
time and place. Not at that time and place.
The illusion out perfect. But looking at it, its shape has changed and changed.
There was another child in the womb, nor was the slender figure and
gently curved. Now plans had breasts and belly bottom, matted hair and lighter.
Dead, lifeless. As dead and lifeless as her.
Everything had been an illusion . That explained why not find Stephen Fallon
there. The wolf was not fooled .
- You cannot have it - the creature murmured , in a frenzy now , their
features like a death mask . Then he began to laugh , a sound
horrible, devilish, which seemed strangled throat . It had nothing
resemblance to Lady Margeaux , who negotiated the soul to the darkness and
lost everything . - Cassandra is lost to you . She and the child .
The sudden movement of the creature was like an animal , fast
and light to get the knife from the table and move against Stephen .
That wicked thing was incredibly strong , vigorous arms to
rid of the hands of Stephen when he strayed from him and tried to blow
taking the knife. She lunged at him again and hit him in the forearm .
Stephen stepped to the side, turned , grabbed the sword that stopped
beside neglecting , when believed in the illusion .
Tried to repel the creature with a bang , but she continued to harass him ,
like a mad dog , insanity in his eyes . Attacked again,
squealing horribly when failed to hit him with the knife . then
slipped again. Stephen pushed back, still dazed by the illusion
before them and the images of what she had .
The creature jumped on his back , catches the burrowing background on his shoulders.
All traces of Margeaux had disappeared.

She had never been there. When fighting for balance, Stephen got rid of the beast.
With a twist of the wrist, twisted the sword and grabbed the handle by
both hands, the blade angled back against the side of his body.
When the creature moved again, from the attackers him from behind, he
pushed the tip of the blade, running through the air.
Stephen fell to his knees, gasping for breath. Blood flowed by
sides of his head, mixed with sweat burning his eyes. Cleaned it,
stood, and walked, and, in one motion, pulled the sword from the creature.
Stood at a safe distance, if that thing was not already
dead.
The pain was spreading through his shoulder, at the point where the beast had struck him. it
wiped the blood and sweat of the face and stared at the creature. Not budge.
Nudged it with the toe of his boot, sword Excalibur erected on
head, ready to strike a mortal blow if that evil still be
were not paid.
The thing did not move. When turned to boot, she stared at him with eyes
lifeless, shrunken head inside. It was something that was not human nor
animal.
Stephen wiped his face and shoulders with water. The experience we had experienced
had seemed very real. Then took the robe, put it on the
shoulder and left the room.
The first thing I noticed was that the flames of the lamps almost
died, flickering weakly, as a long period of time had passed. With both hands
grasped the sword, slowly descended the stairs.
The location was changed. Everything had changed. No fire burned in the fireplace.
No torch shone. He saw no one. Neither Gavin nor any of its
men. Neither had seen previously created. Despite the sweat that you
soaked tunic, an icy shiver ran through the spine below. all out
an illusion.
Slowly retreated through the passage which connected the main hall to the other
quarters, and finally reached the corridor leading to the chamber
starry. There, he met Fallon, standing at the door, the erect ears for
forward, howling softly.
Nothing is what it seems.
Stephen put his hand on huge bolt and slowly pushed the door
Camera starry to open them.
Like the rest of Camelot, looked exactly as it should be, an illusion
perfectly, exactly as Stephen wore the gray shadows.
Fallon then launched herself before him. Stephen turned cautiously,
holding Excalibur ahead as I passed by the big round table.
Then, as he turned again, saw what had caught the wolf.
On the back wall of the chamber opposite the royal emblem, which
Cassandra opened the portal and traveled back in time, there was a huge
crystal.
Was at least four feet in height, a crystal ball not
less than four feet in diameter. It seemed suspended in the air and sparkled as revolved slowly, as
if moved by some invisible current of air.

The facets of the crystal reflected the light of the sword blade when Stephen was
approached slowly . Stephen 's breath condensed in the air
suddenly frigid and winter . He reached out hesitantly , wondering
what he would find . Another illusion? When, however , touched the crystal ball ,
found it was not crystal after all, was ice!
So , the ball turned , glistening and reflecting the faint light gray to
bordered by the camera . And a spinning ball of ice , Stephen discovered something
within it . Such a beautiful and delicate creature caught in the net flow of
amber when a tree expels its sap , there was a picture
frozen in time . Frozen within the heart of the crystal.
The perfect curve of the face , the stubborn angle of the jaw , the thick eyelashes
dark they landed on the cheekbones , the color satin midnight
Hair falling by the shoulders , a crossover slender arm in the womb ,
swelled by the child she was carrying inside, as if to protect her , the
other arm bent over his heart. And , clinging firmly in hand ,
was the mythical Oracle. A much smaller crystal, which fit in the palm of your
hand , suspended in a golden sphere .
The wolf howled softly as he lay on the crystal base .
Stephen had found . Ali was Cassandra .















Chapter X


He arrived too late to save her. Beautiful, delicate, perfect, was there,
Forever frozen in time, a tight arm in place where the child
lay within it, the other to hold the Oracle whereby risked his life for
finding.
Cassandra had found. But too late. And then we had failed
return. But the wolf had sent back.
The animal seemed to feel the agony of Stephen and approached the rub
muzzle on her leg. He knelt next to the wolf and buried his hands in
thick, rough coat that was the last thing that Cassandra had touched,
leaving a little hair essence in Fallon. Perhaps hoping
he could reach her. Too late!
So, Stephen sank the face fur, shed the agony and suffering,
raging against their weak deadly force was not match for the
Darkness. Which had now taken possession of Cassandra. And the Oracle, which
had closed the tomb of ice with her. Forever.

Pressed his head against the ice wall that imprisoned, shouting their
anger in the darkness, pressing harder even when your skin became numb.
If only I could touch her. If only he could
embrace it. If only I could look again at those sweet eyes
violet sparkled with love and with the force of power inside her ...
- There must be a way.
However , when looking , saw no way to free her. So , sadness
turned again into rage . And Stephen grabbed the sword with
force with both hands and began to excavate the frozen wall. with
thrusts and blows , ice chips flying through the air and hit her face ; the
small fragments began to melt and water to drain as
Stephen cheeks tears .
Wiped his face . He refused to let the darkness to close down there to
always suspended in time , neither dead nor alive . As he raised his sword to
another blow , a light reflected on the blade . Light in a dark room .
Stephen turned to imagine that new trick was. But there was
nothing unless shadows. Swung the sword around and saw again a reflection
that shone on the blade , the steel slid as Stephen walked away and
then returned as he returned . The light came from within the crystal
ice, the very heart of stone stuck in the hand of Cassandra . The Oracle.
Pulsed , a tiny ray of light and fragile , like a beating heart .

His power attached to the Oracle. The power was stronger in it.
Not dead, but alive. Cassandra was alive inside the ice crystal. it
knew it. If only he could reach it. Free her and return to her
the mortal world. He raised his sword again, and slowly lowered. if
smash ice, could kill her.
There had to be a way ...
He needed to think, remember what happened the other times, those
other meetings with the darkness. Tricks and illusions. Stephen could not
cut the ice and risk hurting her. He ran a hand over his face still wet.
That was it! Could be melted.
Drew his sword and went back to the exact place where it was when the light
Oracle had reflected on the blade of Excalibur. Bent his sword in exactly the
same position. The Light of the Oracle flashed with a fierce glare and whitish
the blade and then reflected on the icy surface.
Stephen slightly bent the sword, and the glow intensified. changed
angle and the reflection became like a concentrated beam of light that left the
blade. Got brighter, almost to sparkle in a bluish white. drops
water began to form on the surface of the ice, and drain slowly
how old tears.
The light inside the Oracle amplified, growing more vibrant, more intense,
booting a flash of searing light blade Excalibur. The shape of
Crystal began to change as it melted, the water to flow as it
thaw last winter before the blessed warmth of spring.

Renewal, rebirth, life itself reborn as Cassandra
emerged from the icy prison. A lock of hair silky, the extent of leg, the curve of the shoulder.
Then his features when the ice melted, the
curve of the pale faces, fleshy mouth. The curve of the arm, a round within the
hem of her dress.
A delicate hand was exposed, the ice running down the arm curve,
by the neck and hair. The Oracle emerged, the light inside the pulsar
brighter as an awakened heart. Drops dripping from
eyelids, face, neck. Fingers closed around the Oracle is
moved. The curve of her breasts heaved up and down in a breathing
deep. Feebly at first, and then, as if it had been submerged
long and suddenly erupt to the surface. His eyes
opened, quivering, and Cassandra gasped. A muffled cry of pain left
his throat to return to the world of the living.
His other hand hesitated and then squeezed in a protective gesture, on the
child. Even at that moment, that place between life and death, his
first thought out for the child. The ice crystal continued to
melt, larger pieces to crumble, until she was freed from remaining
his icy prison.
Stephen picked it up and laid it on the floor of the starry chamber. Cassandra was
pale as dead, the frostbitten skin, slightly warmer hand where
still clutching the Oracle. Trembled every painful breath, pulling air from
back to frozen lungs, wet hair stuck on his shoulders.

Stephen tore his robe and wrapped it in Cassandra. The nest it against
his chest, rubbed his hands and arms, then shoulders and legs,
breathing life into her with every touch of the hands, which forced the blood
running in his veins and the color back to meat.
Cassandra seemed unchanged, the delicate curves under her dress as
family as if he had played the day before. Then the hand
Stephen stroked her belly. The curve of the waist disappeared, the slight
bulge was now full and tense, the breasts swell up.
How much time had passed? It seemed that it was only days since
he went out with his men to face Malagraine. However, the volume of
child within Cassandra spoke the passage of weeks, months and
stations, that place where time moved out of their rhythm.
Then the child moved a slow stretch like waking up. its
son ... live within it.

Cassandra reached out and brushed the face of Stephen. He took it between
her and kissed her fingertips, still cold on his lips. However,
even with the long lethargy of sleep, Cassandra was making a new
urgency.
- We need to leave this place - muttered.
- Can you stand?
She nodded and clenched his jaw as he sat slowly. Then dropped
her back again. Had cost all his energy to sustain life itself and the
son. Superhuman strength that the powers of darkness had failed
neither kill nor defeat. And therefore, unable to destroy it,
A had trapped. As Merlin was made prisoner.
To hold it against his chest, Stephen stuck his sword in the scabbard on his back.
Then guided her arm around his neck.
- Hold on to me - murmured against her wet hair, to lift it
in his arms and turned to the portal.
- No! - Cassandra exclaimed, in a feeble tone. - The Power of Darkness is
very strong here. And mine is not strong enough to allow the journey.
If we open the portal again and fail, we leave a trail
open to our own world through which the darkness follow.
- Then find another way - Stephen retorted, when calling
Fallon, who followed in his footsteps as he carried the starry chamber.
Stephen led her through the dark corridors of Camelot, one Camelot
there had never been, and across the courtyard. Fallon ran ahead. Crossed the courtyard
page. When he passed by, shortly before the village seemed
alive.
Now, the place was empty, the buildings crumbling to powder. the gates
were wide open. No guards stood in the tower. no light
gleamed along the walls. No discussion or laughter reached to
them. Only that strange foreboding silence. Something to expect and
peeking.
The sky was leaden. Could deal with those few and ultimate
moments before dawn, or last before nightfall. that palladium
gray hung over everything.

When they reached the stables, Stephen Cassandra gently placed upright.
Were empty. Without a horse, there was no hope of reaching the
mountains. Turned to Cassandra, wondering if freed Sleep
Frozen by his own selfishness only to lose it now. Because it does not
could travel on foot the distance he had traveled.
There, in the courtyard, with the evil Dark to close around them,
Cassandra knelt beside the white wolf and rested her head against
Fallon shoulder. The wise creature's eyes flashed. The thoughts of
Cassandra connected with the animal, that bond that was old
family and between the two, while the power of Light moved inside her,
slowly at first, then painfully as she stroked one
strong shoulder.
Where the wolf had been, there was now a white horse. Stephen approached and
the animal shook his mane. The silver eyes glowed.
- We need to go now.
Stephen got on his horse and then Cassandra lifted and placed it
before him. A piece of rope served as a bridle and bit. They went at a gallop.
The trip was long and exhausting. Seemed to stretch for hours, maybe days.
It was impossible to know. Cassandra followed in silence, wrapped in the robe
Stephen, the Oracle stuck firmly in hand.
They stopped briefly to rest by the river where Stephen had past before, but he did not dare
let the horse drink the black water. Then they went on up the
hills, towards a distant mountain that Stephen had not even
make sure you can meet again without the wolf to guide them.
He felt the moment when the horse lost the strength, however spurred him
ahead.

- Stop it! - Cassandra cried . - You need to stop . You 're killing him .
Stephen dismounted and led the horse by the bridle , when the animal does not
more could support the weight of both. Until she heard the creature moaning
painfully. The horse stumbled , ripping the reins of the hands ,
as long legs buckled and he fell , throwing Cassandra
scroll down to the ground .
She rose to her knees and crawled to the animal . Her big flanks
gasped . A bloody foam appeared on his mouth . Cassandra
that solid head lifted and cradled her in his arms .
Cried softly when Stephen caught the creature transformed , the
Wolf to lie with his head on the lap of Cassandra . Bright Eyes
tears rose to him.
- There's nothing you can do - Stephen told her softly. -
We need to go .
Cassandra nodded, patted the white head tenderly and then
rose slowly . When they started the last long climb through and
Rocks , Kassandra looked back. The silvery white hair wolf
glistened . So the fog slowly began to rise , surrounding him , the
cover it until it disappeared completely .
Continued to climb the rocks, as the spiky structures of the towers
of a castle.
- It's here - Cassandra said.
Moved with certainty by the stones that only Stephen had seen before and not
know if he could return to find. Then he noticed the glow of the residue
the rocks when Cassandra ran a hand over them: the essence of the Path
Previous by that place. Found the opening and started down
the passage. As it became darker inside, the light of the Oracle
shone stronger guide them.
Cassandra held her breath as the pain ran through it again, this
time without notice. Hit her like a punch him, knocking the air from the lungs
a gasp of fright.
Stephen immediately embraced.
- It's nothing - she lied, gritting his teeth with stubbornness. - We need
continue. - But even while defying the pain, she returned to her
tighten the belly, to twist it inside until Cassandra cried. The arm
Stephen surrounded her with a powerful and ferocious energy to lean
while pain through her.
Cassandra turned his thoughts to the intimate toward the child,
communicating with her in the rhythm of the heartbeat and lifeblood
that flowed between them.
Yet. Not lost in this dark place.
With hand resting in the womb of Cassandra, Stephen felt the sudden tensing
the delicate muscles, and the powerful momentum of the child who moved within
her.
He lifted her in his arms. Ahead, a beam of light sparkled. He focused
that light source, to walk with firmly in that direction, away from the darkness that tried to
get hold of Cassandra.
The Oracle became brighter in her hand, to expand the brightness
towards that distant light connecting with it, shining around them.
Then, with the light surrounding them, rushed between bright colors and pictures
going, smudges, while Stephen held tightly Cassandra
against his chest, to look the other way, praying for the world that
expected one step ahead was the same world they had left
behind.
The lamps pine oil burned around the room, the odor
poignant to penetrate the air. The fire glowed in the grate, creating halos of light
by pale golden sandstone walls and the young man who lay on the
double skins.
Sweat drops formed by the head of Cassandra, the color satin midnight
his hair to stick to the sides. A soft woolen blanket covering her breasts and
dilated stomach, built on the edge knees bent.
When another painful contraction seized her, her body twisted in
spasms. She threw her head back, arms outstretched, the nodes of
white fingers as she clung to the rod of strong wood that had
tied to the beams of the bed.
The pain gave way and then another began. When Cassandra sought support
on wooden bar, Stephen's strong hands closed over hers.

He had put on the bed next to Cassandra, her arms encircling her
shoulders. Held it as the pain filled her and then came to a climax,
until she lay exhausted, fallen head against the breast of Stephen.
A new pang began almost immediately, and Cassandra barely been able
gather energy to face it. When Lady Vivian brought a damp cloth,
Stephen picked it up. With an immense tenderness, handed it to forehead
Cassandra and neck, the breasts and the extension of the arms. then
felt that it contained breathing, and a new contraction was already moaning
and squirm.
Stephen held her tightly, feeling the peak of pain and writhing inside
Cassandra, as she struggled to give birth to the son who had generated.
Another spasm, and Lady Vivian pushed the sheet, exposing her legs
Cassandra folded.
- There's nothing you can do to ease her pain? - He asked, tormented.

- If I take his pain - Vivian explained - Cassandra would not know
when to push. Have faith, it is strong.
But the anguished eyes of Stephen, Vivian saw the deep love and
intense that he felt for his sister, and was invaded by a wave of pity.
It was so difficult for men ... She thought of her own husband when the son
born, a brave warrior reduced to tears while swore never
allow her to get pregnant so I could not bear such
suffering. However, at that very moment, a new life fidgeted
Vivian inside. Needed to remember to tell him.

- Will soon - she said, her blue eyes watching the young
warrior nuzzling his sister in the chest. Wanted to give him the opportunity to
leave if he wanted.
A tumult of emotions paraded through features Stephen, none of
fear. But the decision did not hesitate.
- I'll stay.
When the next contraction came, Cassandra clung to his hand,
tensing, trying to push the child out. A new pain
succeeded, and another, the muscles to contract in cramps and spasms.
She cried, drawing gasps of air to the lungs, while another
contraction occurred.

The cloth was pushed back. Cassandra lay naked on the bed, the
knees bent, his body tense. A cry burst from his lips, followed
By a gasp startled when she arched her back and gasped. over
tense form plump belly, Stephen saw a small head emerge.
Cassandra's body convulsed in another violent spasm and she
grabbed the hands of Stephen. And as he watched, terrified both
taken and humility, a small shoulder appeared. A push more
and the long-awaited son slid to the world.
It was small and perfect, crying loudly when Vivian cleared and
then wrapped in a sheet. She walked around the bed and held the baby
Cassandra.
Stephen gazed admiringly little new life that lay against her breasts
Cassandra. A tuft of dark hair clung to the baby's head, the
blue eyes tightened, the stubborn little chin quivered while his mouth opened and closed.
Cassandra took him to her breast, a child who was both mortal and immortal,
with the wisdom of the ages to flow through your veins, a legacy of love and power.
Stephen tenderly patted the little hand of the son. The fingers opened and
then closed over hers, to take possession of his heart. And he
looked dazzled, for that fragile new life that was part of both, and
part of a legacy that knit together their lives, joining them in frames
a tapestry.
- What do you see? - Cassandra asked.
With your mouth to pursue her with painful tenderness, Stephen replied:
- The future.