"On all Krynn, and you know it, so don't insult me with appeals to vanity."

"You say his house is sealed. Yet perhaps he may succumb to accident on his way to the arena in the morning. You know it is a long and dangerous walk."

Slickblade shook his head. "Even there his guards will be certain to take extra precautions. It is possible that an opportunity may arise, and if so I shall take advantage. But I warn you, my lord, you must prepare as if you will have to fight this duel."

Darkend Bellowsmoke growled and glowered. He was confronted with an unusual situation: Someone was thwarting his will, and it wasn't practical to have the offender killed. Instead, Darkend took another long pull at the fermented syrup of his thick mead and then spoke thoughtfully.

"So there is no way to avoid him in the arena?"

"You can take him. I've watched both of you fight."

"I agree-if I wasn't so sore that I can hardly move!" snapped Darkend. "And the wound in my leg is festering. That damned Forsyx used poison on his blade, I swear."

"Of course he did. Just count it as a blessing that you had the more toxic venom on your own weapon."

"Don't patronize me!" Again Bellowsmoke drank and felt the mead soothe a few of the aches from his muscles. The pain lessened slightly in his inflamed thigh. He felt glum and angry, but he knew Slickblade was right.

A tentative knock on the chamber door interrupted his brooding. "What?" he growled, knowing he only cared to be disturbed for something important.

When the door was opened he stared curiously. He did not recognize the female Daergar who stood there. She was attractive, though her best days were behind her, but there was a firm line to her chin that reminded him of no one as much as himself.

"Aren't you going to welcome me back, dear brother?" the female Daergar asked. Her words were spoken in the elegant accent of the Hylar.

"Garimeth?" The recognition came suddenly and was accompanied by a sharp, bitter laugh. "You've returned to your own, eh? Just in time to see my brains get splattered all over the arena."

"I hope not," she said in apparent sincerity. "I had word you were standing for the throne, and I was growing so tired of Hylar pretensions. Can't you win tomorrow? I'd like a good excuse to spend some time here."

Darkend laughed again, though the sound was dry and utterly devoid of humor. "Come in and share a drink. You know-" He turned to acknowledge the assassin's presence, but was startled to see that the couch was empty. As usual, Slickblade had departed as he had entered: unnoticed and unannounced.

"I will take that drink, brother. It may be I can help you win that seat on your throne."

"I'm willing to listen. No doubt you've learned a trick or two from your stay among the Hylar."

"None that will supplant your steel, but yes, it may be that I can help… "

For a long time the two Daergar talked. Darkend sent Thistle away and allowed his bath to grow cold as Garimeth spoke to him of things she had learned, seen, and done in Hybardin. Finally, when the hour was late, she gave to him a small gemstone. They both understood he would use it only as a last resort.

The stone was magic, Bellowsmoke knew, and if he used it during his duel with Gludh Kolgard it was quite possible that his ascension to the throne would be tainted. Using magic during a challenge was forbidden. Yet use it he would, if it meant the difference between victory and death.

All the Thane's Men

Baker Whitegranite looked up from his desk to see the familiar form of Axel Slateshoulders, veteran captain of many an epic campaign, standing at the door of the thane's office and workroom.

"Come in, Axel, please."

Trying to conceal the twinge in his aching stomach, Baker rose and crossed to the door to take the hand of the grizzled, sturdy dwarf who limped stiffly into the room. "I take it you got my message?"

"Aye," grunted Slateshoulders. "Though not before the whole city was abuzz with rumors and fairy tales. What's the word from the thane?"

Was there a subtle jibe in the words? Baker wondered. Axel had been one of Hornfel's most stalwart warriors and had made no effort to hide his disappointment when the thane had turned down his venerable lieutenant's request to be allowed to join the expeditionary force. Of course, any logical dwarf could see that Axel's bad foot, swollen and infected with irreversible gout, clearly prevented him from taking the field. Yet on this matter Axel had declined to be logical, and he had not hesitated to let Baker know that he regarded the bookish scholar as a less than ideal replacement as thane.

Still, Baker had need of advice on military matters, and Axel Slateshoulders was undoubtedly the foremost warrior remaining in Hybardin. So Baker had learned to bite his tongue, ignoring the man's little arrogances in order to accept his counsel.

Briefly Baker repeated the news from Hornfel's letter.

"The important thing is to keep this secret from the other clans," Axel said after clumping back and forth across the office.

"Why?" Baker wondered, standing before his desk. "I should think we'd want everyone to be on the alert. If there is an eruption of Chaos, an invasion of Krynn as Hornfel seems to indicate, we must all be ready to meet it."

Axel looked at the acting thane as if he couldn't quite comprehend the extent of Baker's stupidity. "So the Daergar, Theiwar, and Klar should all be told that our army is now gone, perhaps for years-even forever? What do you think they'd do?"

"Well, if they hear about the danger, they'd make ready to defend themselves." The answer seemed obvious to Baker, and he was insulted by the venerable warrior's condescending tone.

"Don't be a fool!" snapped Slateshoulders. "They'd turn their armies against us. Within a week Hybardin would be under siege, and I wouldn't give a thin copper coin for our chances."

"Surely you're exaggerating!"

"Look, Baker." Axel drew a deep breath, and the thane could tell that he was trying, with visible difficulty, to force himself to speak calmly. "The hostile clans have been waiting centuries for a chance like this. What I'm saying is, we can't give them cause to think they'd win if they attacked us now. And we can't afford to give them an excuse to mobilize their own armies."

"What about the Daewar?" Baker argued. "They've always stood beside us against internal threats. And their army is still in the kingdom!"

"Think about that little contradiction. You say they've always stood beside us. But when Thane Hornfel sought their help for this summer's campaign, they were nowhere to be found, right?"

"True."

"And do you think they'd lay down their lives to defend a Hylar city?"

"At least I can ask Gneiss Truesilver," Baker argued, bringing up the name of the thane of the Daewar who had been a friendly acquaintance for many decades. "I'm to meet him today. He's in Hybardin on some trading matters right now."

"As you wish, but don't get your hopes up," replied Axel.

"Why?"

Axel took a breath and spoke bluntly. "I've heard they have a real problem with a new cult that has been growing among their people. They're listening to some prophet who claims that the Daewar have to excise themselves from 'wicked Thorbardin.' "

"Yes, Thane Truesilver told me something about this fellow. 'Stonehand,' he's called. I know he's creating a lot of problems."

"My point, exactly," the veteran declared.

"How many troops do we have in the city now?" the thane asked Axel. He felt slightly embarrassed that he didn't know the answer off the top of his head.

"Troops? Like to none, I'd say. We have a lot of women and boys who'll fight bravely-they're Hylar, after all- but precious few, if any, who could be called proper soldiers."