52

Judos stared at the figure in front of him, chills crawling through his body like hungry ants eating away at a carcass.

He never thought he would be back on this side, never dreamed he'd be wielding the Sword of Martin again, and he had certainly hoped he'd never have to fight Ætharr.

Yet there he stood, fearsome in his rich armour, carrying his long-handled axe and his hand axe with its bearded blade. The weasel stood straight-backed, in front of his army. To Judos, Ætharr looked like a guardian to the gates of Dark Forest.

He had gone too far. So many on all sides were now dead thanks to the Ealdor. He had unleashed a furious vengeance upon those responsible for his son's death and he would continue to soak the world in blood to drown his grief. It had to end before it was too late.

Judos stood still, waiting for his former friend to step forward, but the two stood on opposite ends of the battlefield.

Suddenly, Skipper and the other Redwallers began cheering for Judos. The hares of Salamandastron joined in, until a bellowing chorus of 'Redwall!" and "Eulalia!" rang out.

The surprise of the sudden sound caused Judos to step forward, and he knew then that whether he liked it or not, he was going to fight the mightiest Ealdor that Calador had ever known.

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Ætharr stepped forward almost immediately after Judos had. While the forces of Salamandastron, Redwall, and the Highlands were cheering their champion on, the forces of Ætharr were silent. Perhaps they were stunned by the events unfolding in front of them, or maybe they saw the event as too solemn and tense for chants and cheers.

Ætharr hefted his axes, the axes that he had used most of his life in battle. He had once had two long-handled axes, but one had broken, and he had taken the hand axe from a rat he'd slain in the wars against Oorlog. He remembered that fight well; he remembered almost every skirmish, battle, or duel he'd had in his life.

He suddenly had an urge to look back and see his soldiers again, but he dared not. This was a terrible moment for such actions, and anything could betray a weakness in him, and his memory would be tarnished forever.

He and Judos were closing the gap between them, and Ætharr fancied he could make out the expression on Judos' face. There was some kind of fear, but whatever there was had been veiled by a look of resigned determination.

Ætharr suddenly smiled wanly as he noticed the gaudily decorated shield that Judos carried, and he also noticed the Sword of Martin in Judos' hands. It was too small for him, but Ætharr knew that Judos was well skilled with it.

The weasel felt bitter, but he was determined to conceal this emotion. Now was the moment to give way to glory, to his moment when all those present could see him fight against his old friend and ally.

It was time.

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Judos gave a quiet exhale as he locked eyes with the weasel.

Ætharr nodded curtly, "How does it feel to face me in battle after all this time?" His voice, strangely lacking in accusation, seemed to boom in the air. The cheering had stopped, and it seemed even the sea had calmed down so it could easier carry the conversation to those who listened.

Judos lifted his shield, "I feel nothing." It was true. He felt so empty inside, standing here, speaking with the creature that he was to slay or be slain by. How could two creatures speak before such an occasion?

Ætharr seemed to leer, but Judos recognized then that it was a grimace. Did he too feel as Judos felt?

The weasel spoke again, "You have come here with a task. Are you prepared to fulfill it?"

It was as though he was speaking to a servant, or a child. Judos felt embarrassed, and the anger at the condescension gave him a louder voice.

"I shall end it here, Ætharr! You have gone too far, and you would not stop until the very sea turned red! I shall make sure that it is your blood only that spills now."

It was then that Ætharr suddenly smiled. It was no smile of cheer or warmth; Judos reckoned that all joy in Ætharr had died with his son. It was a wolfish smile, one that showed his sharp teeth and accentuated the savage look which had increasingly characterized his face. Was this how it was to face Ætharr in battle? Judos suddenly felt empathy to the possible hundreds of foes that had met this weasel and died.

The Ealdor raised his axes, "You will soon find that my blood will not spill easily."

Judos did not doubt it.

Suddenly the weasel threw back his head and roared a battle cry. Such a display chilled many a warrior's heart, but Judos knew what had to be done, and he knew that this fight would not be won by battle cries. Judos suddenly felt lighter, and he gave a yell of his own to match that of Ætharr's.

Otter and weasel then charged forward, each ready to fight to the death.

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Ætharr saw the sword in Judos' hand lunging forward for his ribs, and he counter swung with his hand axe. In his other hand his long axe swung for Judos' neck, only to be deflected by Judos' shield.

The impact drove Judos back three paces, and the otter began circling the weasel. Each knew of the other's fighting styles, and so they would both be trying out different strategies in an effort to confuse the other.

Ætharr began pacing in a circular direction, snarling as he waited for Judos to charge forward.

Judos obliged, with a fearsome swing prepared. Ætharr swung his long axe out to deflect the blow, but Judos had already doubled back and swung from the opposite side.

Anger coursed through the weasel as he recognized he'd been fooled, but with the amazing speed of his, he dodged the blow and rammed his hand axe forward towards Judos' chest.

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The front of the hand axe took Judos right in the lower ribs, before he could cover it with his shield. The attack had not meant to be fatal. Ætharr was going to wear Judos down.

Judos gasped for air as he leaped away to the right. Falling awkwardly, he scrambled to climb back to his feet in the sand.

Ætharr snarled behind him, and without looking Judos abandoned recovering his stance and leaped away to the left. He heard the blade of the axe sink where he'd just stood.

Judos stood up and turned to face the weasel again. Ætharr roared triumphantly and charged, his arms swinging his axes in a maelstrom of death.

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Judos felt fear as he watched the whirling axe blades coming closer, and he knew that he had one chance.

Pulling his arm out of the straps, he dropped his sword and threw his shield like an oversized discus.

The shield slammed into the Ealdor's stomach. He gasped in anger and pain, temporarily stopped by Judos' counter attack.

Judos made a rapid zig-zag approach, slashing his sword at Ætharr. The weasel dodged the sword, only to be hit by Judos' heavy tail.

Ætharr snarled and at such close range, he bulled forward, body slamming Judos. Weasel and otter almost flew in the air before landing.

Still holding his weapons, Ætharr could not use his paws, and instead leaned forward and bit Judos' shoulder until he taste blood.

Judos screamed in pain, and with his free paw, grabbed Ætharr by the throat. The weasel hissed in surprise, and let go of his long axe to push himself away off of Judos.

Judos leaped up, facing Ætharr in a fighting stance. Both creatures now held only a single weapon, both meant for close quarters.

Recognizing this, they lunged forward, swinging their weapons at each other. They ducked and weaved, still attacking with their weapons. Neither made any hits, but the fight that they were carrying out was a legendary spectacle. Both sides stared as the tension mounted.

Minutes passed in a time that seemed to take hours. Neither weasel nor otter seemed weary, and their attacks were as vicious as ever.

Judos ducked away from Ætharr's latest swing. He noticed that the sun had started to colour the sky as it started to sink. The approach of night seemed to add more tension to this fight. He had to keep this up, until he could find a chance to strike.

The weasel was fighting as well as he'd ever fought. Sword and axe were blurs in the air, and their clashing together made noises that the gods themselves could hear.

It was Ætharr who broke through Judos' defences first. As Judos had done before, he pretended to swing, but just as Judos moved to avoid it, he swung a punch at the otter's face. Judos felt the area around his eye explode in pain, and he swung his tail again, hitting Ætharr's leg and nearly knocking him off his feet. He swung for the weasel's head but Ætharr deflected it with the blade of his axe.

Ætharr swung his axe for a blow aimed at Judos' midriff, and the otter saw a chance that would end the battle.

Judos suddenly jumped off the ground in a sailing leap to the left. The axe, which had just started to swing, was stopped by Judos' flying body. The blade passed through the armour, and bit into Judos' side.

Judos felt the pain, but knew that this was his chance. Even as the axe bit into his skin, Judos lunged.

The sword of Martin, slayer of so many beasts, sunk into Ætharr's chest.

The weasel's eyes widened in surprise, and he almost let go of the axe in his paws.

Judos let go of the sword to pull the axe out of his side. The injury was bleeding, but was surprisingly just a flesh wound. Still, he felt faintly sick at the thought of what he had risked to end this battle.

He turned to look at Ætharr, who had lowered his weapon. The weasel stared into Judos' eyes, and he stood stock still.

The otter wanted to look away, but he knew that he couldn't. He suddenly felt the flush of victory. He had done what so many others had failed to do.

He had bested Ætharr in a fight. The Ealdor was dying.

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Ætharr looked down at the hilt of the blade, almost entranced by the ruby in the pommel. A good sword. A good death.

He looked back at Judos, who simply stood and stared at the weasel. Ætharr felt something in his throat, and he coughed, spitting out the liquid collecting in his mouth.

Blood.

So this was dying, Ætharr thought. He felt frightened for a brief moment, but he suddenly felt relieved. He had his axe in paw.

Looking down, he saw his long-handled axe in the sand. He wanted to get it, but he didn't trust his legs. It was a miracle that he was still standing.

He looked back at Judos. The otter winced at his own wounds as he stumbled for the axe.

The weasel nodded as the otter offered him the axe. It served as a good staff to support himself on. Funny that he would use his axe like that now.

The mild humour left Ætharr as he thought of all he was losing. Calador would suffer now that the Ealdor was dying. His children were still young, and the ambitious would want to get a hold of the riches of Calador.

Thinking of that, Ætharr suddenly remembered his father, his death arranged by a treacherous brother, who took the throne for himself. He had let in the Millars, had exiled his own son, and had started Ætharr on the path to form an alliance with the Vireo, the Jeri, the Falcarragh, even the remnants of the Hunan.

Ætharr thought of all those people who he had met on that journey. He thought of Nero, Ibos, Blackback, Coldbane, Aletorix, Leofer, Redjaw, Blackaxe, Rojo, Luther Pelopidas, Klinus, Oorlog, Tiarnan, Cocoran, Judos. And Rosheen.

Dear and beloved Rosheen, Ætharr thought suddenly, please forgive me. Thinking of her, he wanted to weep. He was leaving her, and their remaining children. Leaving them to die here, far away at Salamandastron. What would they think of him?

But they will see me again, Ætharr realized. We shall meet in the Great Hall. Rosheen and I will be young again, our children will be tall and proud, and we shall see our ancestors. No more pain, just an eternal bliss after the hardships of life. We shall be happy.

The Ealdor felt himself slide. His strength was leaving him, and he sunk to his knees. With effort, he looked into the sinking sun. It was red.

The red sun. Blood was spilled. And this time, it was Ætharr's blood.

At death's door, he had to be sure. He turned back to Judos, who was oblivious of his own wounds, staring at the dying Ealdor.

He gave a nod, "Farewell, Judos. Fulfill your task if you are still my friend."

Tears suddenly ran down the otter's cheeks as he shakily returned the nod, "Die in peace, Ætharr. We were always friends."

The irony of the statement suddenly struck Ætharr, and he would have laughed if it wouldn't have hurt so much.

He looked back at the setting sun, thinking of those he'd loved. His family, his friends, his wife, his children. He thought of those he'd hated and killed, and even felt a melancholy for them too. Death seems to forgive all, Ætharr thought fleetingly, for he felt his mind darkening. The sun went out of focus, and he felt his eye lids closing.

With his remaining strength, Ætharr lowered himself down to lie on his back, keeping a tight grip to his axes. With his final breath, he uttered the thought in his head, "At last..."

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A sob nearly escaped Judos as he heard the last breath leave Ætharr's body. The Ealdor, the warrior and leader who had changed so much and had decided the fates of so many lives, had finally relinquished his hold on life. Ætharr was dead.

Judos stumbled forward, and pulled the Sword of Martin from Ætharr's body.

Cheers erupted in scattered groups on his side of the battlefield. The vermin armies were silent. Almost.

From the ranks of the demoralized horde, Ptolemy came forward, followed by Cocoran, Khazdar, Craterus, Gyras, and King Blackaxe. All of them wept as they approached.

Judos wept with them, but in the back of his mind, he suddenly feared their approach. Would they seek to avenge the Ealdor's death in their grief?

A yell sounded on the other end, and Judos turned to see the leaders of Salamandastron, Redwall, and the Highlands charge forward, ready to rescue Judos at the sight of these vermin breaking their oaths.

Judos knew better, however. He waved his arms in warning at the allies to stop. Mystified, they slowed their pace at Judos' request.

Judos turned back to Ptolemy, who approached the body of Ætharr, "It is done."

The weasel slowly nodded, unashamedly crying for his old friend and liege lord. Judos felt fresh tears course down his face.

The six leaders took hold of Ætharr's lifeless body, making sure he held onto his axes even in death. They began a slow march back to their lines.

A seventh joined them. Judos dropped the Sword of Martin in the sand, and squeezed in between Ptolemy and Craterus, helping them carry his friend back.

He heard shouts of surprise from the forces standing by Salamandastron. The leaders again ran forward, calling Judos' name in their shock and bewilderment. Troops were following them from their places around the mountain.

Judos looked at Ptolemy, "Go. You will see me again soon." Ptolemy understood and nodded.

Judos detached himself from the funeral procession and turned to face Skipper, Thornback, Korari, Seahawk, Log a Log, and Adisa.

"What are ye doing?" Skipper stared at Judos. It was almost as if he'd caught Judos trying to run away from Redwall all that time ago. Judos stared bitterly at Skipper, noting for the umpteenth time that so many seasons had passed since those early days.

Thornback was more observant, "You never switched sides did you?"

Judos looked up at the badger, "No. I didn't."

Seahawk grunted in surprise and outrage. Log a Log's eyes were wide in confusion.

Judos looked at them all, "Ætharr prepared everything on his own terms to the very end. And he needed my help one last time."

Thornback sighed and shook his head in disgust.

Skipper still didn't understand, "Judos, you're the Warrior of Redwall! Martin told us of his successor, and ye showed us today that it was true. You slew Ætharr here on the field with Martin's sword!" He picked up the sword and presented it to the younger otter.

Judos paused, gazing at the weapon. It was a symbol of good, the sword of a true knight and warrior. Martin's dreams and values had helped build Redwall, and Redwall welcomed all in its hospitality. The sword promised a future Judos hadn't thought he was made for. But was it the path he was made to do?

He suddenly felt a revulsion, a dark and bitter contempt for it all. Damn Martin. He was long dead, and still sought to domineer and control people's lives. Judos had made a promise to a friend, and that promise meant more to him than a powerful sword in defence of Redwall.

In this rage, he knocked the sword out of Skipper's hands with such force that the weapon fell onto the sand, "I renounce my rights to that sword! I deny Martin the Warrior's call and refuse to return to Redwall!"

All heard that bellow. Even the vermin, in their preparations to leave, paused and looked at the exchange.

Judos called out again, "Whatever anger and disagreement passed between Ætharr and myself is absolved and forgiven!"

Seahawk spluttered in outrage, "This is flippin' preposterous! Someone ought to arrest this traitor!"

Skipper looked as though he'd been stabbed instead of Ætharr, "Judos… nobody has ever refused Martin the Warrior's task. Nobody!"

Judos looked at Skipper, "I am glad to be the first, then!" And suddenly, Judos was reminded of all those times when he'd been made to look foolish and embarrassed. It suddenly seemed as though this was Judos' spiteful revenge come round at last. He felt a twisted satisfaction in his defiant response.

"I no longer recognize Martin the Warrior's authority. And I left Redwall a long time ago. I made an oath to a good friend who I was forced to slay. He wanted to die. He recognized he had gone too far and had caused too much pain. I did what he could ask no one else to do. And now I will do what I promised him before I defected. I will be guardian to his children, I shall help maintain order in Calador, until a child of his shall become Ealdor in his place."

Seahawk stepped forward, looking at Korari and Thornback, "This otter has lost his bloody mind! I say he needs a jolly well teachin' into what he is and what he was meant to do!"

Suddenly Seahawk stopped.

For behind Judos, what remained of the Calador army had organized itself into a new shield wall. Ptolemy, Gyras, and Craterus stood at the head of it, grieving but determined to come to Judos' rescue if necessary. Even now, the soldiers stood proud and tall, so unlike the scurvy hordes that the forces of Redwall and Salamandastron were used to. Next to them, King Blackaxe stood in front of his remaining Jeri, still imposing despite his age. Khazdar and Cocoran stared balefully across the beach, also leading their depleted divisions, determined to resume the fight despite how Ætharr's duel had ended.

A figure came out of the ranks, spoke briefly with the Calador theigns, and walked to where Judos stood. Thornback flinched.

Ben, the mercenary raccoon, stood next to Judos, his heavily notched shillelagh pointed at the ground but looped in the raccoon's paw. There was a white flag of truce in the other, "I've been sent as a neutral messenger. Judos is to be allowed back home according to the oaths you all swore."

"Home?" Skipper protested. He looked at Judos, mouth open.

Thornback stepped forward, "Ben, how can we know Calador will not just come back when they are strong again? How will we know that the Ealdor's children won't return to avenge their father's defeat?"

"Because Judos won't let them." Ben replied, "Judos is their guardian, and as the Ealdor's regent, he will look after Calador, he will calm its troubles and give it peace, as Ætharr tried to do. And Calador will have troubles. They'll need wise leaders like Judos to protect their lands, never mind campaigns against Salamandastron."

It was a well thought out idea, Judos couldn't help but think. Ætharr had always been shrewd, and this decision truly was the best way to end the conflict safely for Calador, even if it meant the death of the Ealdor. The throne would be maintained by a wise and level-headed warrior who preferred peace to war, and Ætharr's children would absorb his lessons. They will know that dying at Judos' paw had been their father's plan, and if Judos was fortunate, they would understand and forgive him. And even if they didn't, their quarrel was not with Salamandastron or Redwall or anyone outside of Calador. There would be no massive armies marching out to take familial revenge. It was a chance for Calador to try and maintain the great wealth and power that Ætharr had given it. For Ætharr knew that despite the power of his alliances, their losses at Salamandastron had been grievous, and other vermin clans would rise and challenge the weakened Caladors.

Thornback looked from Ben to Judos, before turning to his brother, "It seems that letting him go is the right thing to do."

Seahawk peered at Thornback, "What do you mean there, sah?"

Thornback nodded at Ben, "This is someone I can trust with my life. If he says this, then it is so. Judos will go back and rule in the weasel's place." The badger spoke that last sentence sourly, doubtlessly remembering the horrid death of his elder brother.

Seahawk frowned, "Still find it deuced odd to just let an army of these vermin walk off."

Ben glanced mockingly at the old hare, "I find it odd that a whole population of hares let one corrupt Badger Lord take things as far as he did."

Seahawk gave a withering stare at the raccoon, but said nothing. Korari stepped forward in anger, but made no further movement at a glance from Thornback.

Judos looked at Ben, "Are you coming with us?"

Ben shook his head, "I don't think so. Ætharr gave me my final pay before the duel, so now I'm off to find new places to set foot in." Judos noticed for the first time that Ben had all his belongings on his back.

The otter turned to the others, "Goodbye." He focused on the Redwallers, "Someday there will be another who is worthy to be Abbey Warrior. And then maybe they will choose to take up that life." Ignoring Skipper's final look of anger, Judos then turned to rejoin the Calador army. To head back to the home he'd found in the most unlikely of places.

Ben watched the Caladors break camp and head off after their allies, before glancing at Thornback, "I suppose we both have a lot to tell each other."

Thornback nodded, looking apprehensive, "Yes, Ben, we do. But I don't think Salamandastron will appreciate your presence considering your recent company."

Ben smiled, "I've fought every kind of army imaginable. I've had friends on both sides of a battlefield. I've killed many creatures. But I've never killed a true friend, nor will I ever."

Thornback, despite knowing that Ben had been with the enemy, smiled at the raccoon, "I'm glad that I'm still your friend. But where will you go now?"

Ben shrugged, "I'm not welcome here, nor am I interested in Calador anymore, so I guess I'll head south for now. Warmer climate, easy living, might just carve a little corner of this world out for myself somewhere."

Thornback clasped the raccoon's paw, "Well good luck, then. And may the seasons smile on you, Ben."

Ben hefted his shillelagh, "And to you as well, Thornback."

With that, the raccoon began heading south, never to be seen by any Salamandastron hare or Calador weasel again. Though Thornback, growing old in the Highlands long after, would often think of his old friend, wondering what new adventures the shillelagh-wielding raccoon had come across. Though he never saw or heard from him again, Thornback would always hope that Ben eventually found the peace that he was looking for.

Epilogue

It was a tragic homecoming for all in Calador. Cocoran and Judos took it upon themselves to tell Rosheen of Ætharr's death. The depth of her anguish drove the two of them to fresh tears. Rosheen said she herself would tell the children. Judos did not stay to watch their reactions.

The funeral pyre of Ætharr was a massive one. Funeral pyres were being built all around Calador, for all the soldiers that had been slain. Most never made it back home at all, but there were still more than enough pyres to be made.

The Ealdor's was a spectacle to see. The solemnity of the moment was almost suffocating. Judos, as the new guardian to Ætharr's children, stood by Rosheen in a place of honour. Some darkly hinted at the otter's involvement in Ætharr's death, but those few were silenced. It had been intended by Ætharr to be this way.

Nuala, Ædelmær, and Lorcan wept openly as their father was honoured by the leaders of Calador, Hunan, Jeri, and Falcarragh. Gifts of condolence were offered to Ætharr's family. Calador tradition maintained that a father's pyre must be lit by his children, and so three torches were brought forward. Judos watched sadly as Ætharr's children went forward to send their father to the Great Hall to wait for them.

It was remarkable, Judos thought, that the one most responsible for all this grief was himself given the most grief of all.

Even after the most solemn events were done with, the pyre burned on. Some speculated that it would take three days to burn out.

On the second day, Judos went back to see it for himself, and was surprised to find Ptolemy standing there as well.

The weasel gazed sadly upon his former friend's pyre, but acknowledged Judos' presence.

Judos sighed, "Ætharr was truly clever even to the end. He arranged for me to kill him, and then left a will revealing his plans to the theigns just afterwards." That was why nobody had branded Judos a traitor, nor why the children had tried to avenge their father. Judos had approached them fearfully, wondering what their reaction would be. All four creatures were grieving for the death of the Ealdor, but one of them had been responsible for the Ealdor's death.

However, Judos had been surprised. Ædelmær, who had always respected his uncle Judos, stepped forward and spoke without any malice in his tone, "I'll never agree with what you were forced to do, but I understand why it was done. I will honour my father's wishes and try to forgive." Nuala and Lorcan had no words to say, merely nodding in their agreement with their brother.

Judos was overcome with emotion at this response from the young weasels, and his response was genuine, "I'm sorry that it had to end the way it did. I wish he were still here." For even after everything, Judos truly wished that things had been different. He did not mourn Ætharr dishonestly. It had hurt him to carry out that task of killing his best friend, even if it was what his best friend had wanted.

Judos had also feared Rosheen's reaction. She had said little on the matter, and had agreed that it had been as Ætharr wanted, but there had been a flash of anger in her eyes so brief that only Judos saw it. He doubted either of them would ever completely come to terms with what had happened. But as it was said now in Calador, the enemy had not been able to kill Ætharr. It had been his choice, and from the viewpoint of Calador, it seemed as though this was a subtle victory snatched from the bloody stalemate.

As Judos and Ptolemy watched the funeral pyre of their friend burn, Ptolemy brought up a question, "I've been thinking about this for a while, yet I can't think of a good answer. If Ætharr had arranged this death for himself, why did he try so hard to kill you?"

"Because even when he sought to stop himself, he was proud of his legacy," Judos explained after a moment of thought, "He wanted to be remembered for the great warrior that he had been, and so even if he was meaning to die, he wanted to be bested in a fight through honest combat. But he knew that I would be able to kill him, even if I wasn't sure if I could."

"And you were the only one amongst his surviving friends that would be able to fool everyone," Ptolemy commented, "If an otter turned back to the side of Redwall against his former friend, none would doubt the repentance until it was too late. Ætharr will forever be known as the one whom the enemy could not slay."

"I don't think any honour would please him more," said Judos, even as he thought of the irony in how it had been those around Ætharr who had been slain by the enemy because of their association with him.

After a pause, the weasel spoke again, "He actually told us what was going on just before he went to fight you, and we began spreading the word as you two were fighting. It was unbelievable, what Ætharr organized. And yet it worked."

Judos nodded, "I wonder whether I'll be listed as a hero or a coward at Redwall. I slew the most powerful vermin warrior who ever lived, but I rejected Martin the Warrior's call to go home."

Ptolemy put a comforting paw on Judos' shoulder, "Calador is your home. You chose to be here, and you will be welcome here till your dying day."

Judos nodded, "That's the most assuring thing I've heard since we left for Salamandastron." It seemed so long ago now, when the magnificent yet terrifying horde had marched out from the vermin lands, driven by one ruler's tainted and tortured soul.

Ptolemy looked at Judos just then, "Ædelmær was here earlier."

"Was he?' Judos asked. The third son of Ætharr had seemed physically weak as a child, but there was a hard toughness in his sinews, and his intelligence had always impressed Judos. Somehow he had always seen that the true heir to the throne was not the first born Ædron, or the physically powerful Lorcan, but Ædelmær. Maybe his father had seen it too, but Judos couldn't be sure.

"He's taking it hard,' Ptolemy remarked.

Judos nodded, "We all are." But he was not just thinking of Ædelmær's grief for his father. More war was on the horizon. The alliances had been splintered so that only four tribes were left. The Calador, Falcarragh, Hunan, and the Jeri were all weakened from Ætharr's last campaign. The exiled enemy tribes, along with other marauders seeking plunder, were said to be drawing nigh like vultures to a corpse.

But, Judos allowed, the alliance was intact. The defences were there, and it would be a long time before the tribes would march out to spread war. They would, instead, stand like islands in the sea, defending each other and holding their own as waves crashed down upon them, if only to allow for peace within their lands. The desire for conquest had been burned out, and now there was an urge to do away with empire or plunder. Judos considered this a great improvement.

"What are you thinking about?" Ptolemy asked.

"I was thinking of how Ætharr tried to give us peace through war, but it could only succeed with his death."

Ptolemy smiled wanly, "The bane of Ætharr. He was fated to be the master of war, but not peace."

Judos looked up, "You think that was his bane?"

Ptolemy shrugged, "When we were still at Salamandastron, I heard someone say to his companion that Ætharr had no bane. He was himself a bane to those who knew him. Look at his son, murdered, his family left behind with his death, and the countless soldiers he slew. 'Has anyone benefited from knowing him?', he asked. Nobody answered him." Ptolemy placed a paw over his heart, "I can say that I am honoured to have been his friend."

Judos smiled, "So am I. I would likely be dead if it wasn't for him. And his family will recover in peace. Rosheen is strong in spirit, and she will have all of us here to help her. Her children will grow up, and Ædelmær will become Ealdor."

Ptolemy looked surprised, and turned his head towards Judos, "What?"

Judos regretted his impulse to say those last five words, but he had to explain himself now, "Lorcan and Nuala do not want the Ealdorship. Any more than Ædall wanted it. Lorcan and Nuala both see the dark temptations of power and are repulsed. Ædelmær is different. He sees those temptations but he does not fear them. He sees them and prepares to defeat them. Just like his father sought to do. The difference is that Ædelmær is not going to be crippled with grief or dark ambitions. He alone is fit to rule Calador, and give it the peace that his father failed to give."

Ptolemy lifted his head and smelled the air, "It's been a long time since Calador had a genuine peace. What does one do in peacetime, Judos?"

Judos paused, wondering, and finally gave an answer, "We follow our personal interests, we write histories and novels, we find ourselves, we raise families, we tend the land we own. When war comes to threaten our peace, we defend ourselves as fiercely as we can. And at the end of it all, as our own lives end, we say goodbye to life. And those who knew war and formed bonds with brothers-in-arms shall hold onto their weapons so that they can enter the Great Hall and be with those departed again. One day you and I shall go there too. And Ætharr will be waiting for us all, noble and privileged at the table of his fathers, recalling us to his side. And we, being his friends, will honour him, because for better or worse, he was the greatest Ealdor that has yet lived. And for ages onward, folk will remember us, but before anyone else, they shall speak of Ætharr of Calador."

The End