They began to pierce his guard, little nicks and slashes appearing on his shoulder, his biceps and his thighs. Memories of the Dung Pits flashed through his mind. From the ferocity of the assault, he judged that they no longer wished to take him prisoner but to obtain vengeance for their fallen fellows.

Realizing that he would soon be hacked to pieces, Jack resolved to take the Baron with him to Glyve if at all possible. He made ready to hurl himself upon him, heedless of the others' blades, as soon as an opening appeared in the Baron's defense. It would have to come soon, he realized, for he felt himself weakening from moment to bloody moment.

As if sensing this, the Baron fought care fully, protecting himself at all times, allowing his men to lead the assault. Gasping, Jack decided he could wait no longer.

Then everything ended. Their weapons be came too hot to hold as blue flames danced along the blades. As they released them and cried out, they were blinded by a flash of white light which occurred just a brief distance above their heads. Showers of sparks fell about them and the odors of combustion reached their nostrils.

"Baron," came a sugar-filled voice, "you are trespassing as well as attempting to slay my prisoner. What have you to say for yourself?"

Fear took root in his bowels and blossomed within his stomach as Tack recognized the voice.

SPOTS DANCING BEFORE his eyes, Jack sought shadows.

The light faded as quickly as it had come, however, and the darkness that followed seemed almost absolute. He attempted to take advantage of this Baron and his men until he touched the rock. He began to edge his way about it.

"Your prisoner?" he heard the Baron shout. "He is mine!"

"We have been good neighbors for a long while, Baron-since the last geography lesson I gave you," said the now discernible figure which stood atop the rock. "Perhaps a refresher course is now in order. These markers serve to indicate the boundary between our realms. The prisoner stands on my side of the marker-as do you and your men, I might add. You are, of course, a

respected visitor; and the prisoner, of course, is mine."

"Lord," said the Baron, "this has always been a disputed border-and you must bear in mind, too, that I have been pursuing this man across my own realm. It seems hardly fair for you to interfere at this point."

"Fair?" came the laughing response. "Speak not to me of fairness, neighbor-nor call the prisoner a man. We both know that the boundaries are limits of power, not of law or of treaty. For as far as my power reaches from its seat, High Dudgeon, the land is mine. The same applies to you in your place. If you wish to renegotiate the boundary by a contest of forces, let us be about it now. As for the prisoner, you are aware that he is himself a Power-one of the few mobile ones. He draws his strength from no single locale, but from a condition of light and darkness. His captor cannot but benefit from his services; therefore, he is mine. Do you agree, Lord of Offal? Or shall we reestablish the boundary this moment?"

"I see that your power is with you-"

"Then we are obviously within my realm. Go home now, Baron."

Having circled to the far side of the marker, Jack made his way quietly into the darkness beyond. He had had the opportunity to spring back across the boundary and perhaps precipitate a struggle; but whatever its outcome, he would have been someone's captive. Better to fly, in the only direction open. He moved more quickly.

Glancing back, he saw what appeared to be a continuation of the argument, for the Baron was stamping about and gesturing wildly. He could hear his angry shouts, though he had come too far to distinguish the words being shouted. He broke into a run, knowing that his absence would not remain unnoticed much longer. He topped a small rise, raced down its eastern slope, cursing the loss of his blade.

He tired quickly but forced himself to move at a dog-trot, stopping only to arm himself with two easily held stones.

Then for a moment his shadow lay long before him, and he stopped and turned in his tracks. A great blaze of light had occurred beyond the hill and within it, like ashes or blown leaves, hordes of bats were eddying, rising, darting. Before he could take advantage of shadows, the light dimmed and darkness came again. The only sound now was his own heavy breathing. He glanced at the stars for guidance and hurried on, looking as he went for a hiding place from the pursuit that he knew would follow.

He kept glancing back but there was no recurrence of the phenomenon. He wondered as to the outcome of the conflict. The Baron, despite his brutish mien, was commonly known to be an uncommonly able sorcerer; also, the situation of the border indicated that both stood at the same relative distances from their places of power.

It would be pleasant, he decided, if they would annihilate one another. Although that was unlikely. Pity.

Knowing that by now his absence must have been noted and realizing that the only thing which could stay pursuit would be a drawn-out struggle, he prayed that it would be a lengthy affair, adding the observation that the ideal outcome would entail death or severe injury for all parties involved.

As if to mock his petition, it was only a brief while later that a dark form flitted past him. He hurled both his stones, but they went wide of the mark.

Resolving not to travel in a straight line, he turned to his left and headed in that direction. He was walking slowly to conserve his strength; and as perspiration evaporated, he felt the chill once again. Or was it just that?

It seemed as if a dark form paced him, far to his left. Whenever he turned his head in that direction, it vanished. Staring straight ahead, however, he detected something of a movement from the corner of his eye. It seemed to be drawing nearer.

Soon it was at his side. He felt the presence, though he could barely discern it. While it made

no hostile movements, he prepared to defend himself at its first touch.

"May I inquire as to the state of your health?" came the soft, sweet voice.

Suppressing a shudder, Jack said, "I am hungry, thirsty and tired."

"How unfortunate. I will see that those conditions are soon remedied."

"Why?"

"It is my custom to treat my guests with every courtesy."

"I was not aware of my being anyone's guest."

"All visitors to my realm are my guests, Jack, even those who abused my hospitality on previous occasions."

"That is good to know-especially if it means that you will offer me assistance in reaching your eastern frontier as quickly and safely as possible."

"We will discuss the matter after dinner."

"Very good."

"This way, please."

Jack followed him as he bore to the right, knowing that it would be futile to do otherwise. As they moved, he occasionally caught a glimpse of that dark, handsome face, half-touched by starlight, half-hidden by the high, curved collar of the cloak he wore; the eyes within it were like the pools that form about the wicks of black candles: hot, dark and liquid. Bats kept dropping from out of the sky and vanishing within his cloak. After a long, silent while, he gestured toward a prominence that lay ahead.

"There," he said.

Jack nodded and studied the decapitated hill. A minor place of power, he decided, and within this one's reach.

They approached it as they climbed slowly. When Jack slipped at one point, he felt a hand upon his elbow, steadying him. He noted that the other's boots made no sound, though they passed over some gravel.

Finally, "What became of the Baron?" he inquired.