Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

(A word of warning, this is a LONG chapter)

Return to Suno.

Roland slowed his horse down to a walk as he reached the head of his company after a quick ride to the rear making sure everything was normal. After taking the lead position of the troop, Roland peaked over his shoulder at the bulk of the company and was warmed to see the men were in very good spirits despite the long week and a half march it was taking them just to get beyond Dhirim.

Then again why wouldn't they be? Nearly two weeks ago they had captured a Khanate stronghold, full of seventy men with fifteen men leading the charge and the rest closing up from behind to finish the job, with no help from the Sultanate's men at all. Roland guess within a month, the entire lands of Swadia would know of the Wolves' heroic success, and he also bet that all the inns and taverns would run dry of ale and other alcohol because of the Wolves purchasing drinks for each other, or other patrons buying drinks for the Wolves because of that story.

Either way they had something to be proud about, Roland thought happily. As he looked back his eye caught a glimpse of Haydee right in the middle conversing with Ymira. She too, he could be proud of, and even more so that the credit of the successful assault would go to her and not him. But even then there was more to it then mere fame Roland discovered, not only had taking Asugan Castle improved her self-confidence, but also it had secured her position in the Sultanate and the Wolves.

Before the action, the Wolves merely looked at Haydee's position of second in command as an honoured position, one where she was placed in just for show and did not have any value to it at all. They just followed her orders and request because they trusted Roland and his choice of officers. Now that had changed, and the troop really did come to respect her as a person capable of giving orders. Now she really was the Wolves second in command, as well as her uncle's loyal niece. Taking the castle for the Sultanate irradiated all of the doubts and fears her uncle and the other Emirs held about her, if not, it at least lessened the volume they were spoken at.

But there were downsides, Haydee still was out of contact with her mother, and was publicly and enemy to her mother and her supports in the Khanate after taking Asugan Castle. And despite her new confidence, Roland could tell she was saddened by that fact, the last person in her family was now an enemy, politically. Plus the Wolves had loss three good men in the fight, and three lost to their wounds later that day. Although a miracle that they had only lost six men, it still affected everyone who knew them, and in the Wolves everyone knew everyone else… and then there was Francis.

The good he had brought to Roland after freeing him was quickly outweighed by the bad. First off, Francis' tagalong, a young man by the name of Anthony Breckle, but "Tony" to his friends, and been the cause of one and many headaches in the mercenary captain's and his troops' trek back to Suno. He was fat, picky, a complete tool and barely had finished high school, Roland guessed. At first Roland was confused as to why Francis was in jail with such a man. "He's from earth too," confided Francis, "Poor bastard was about to be skinned alive if I hadn't shown up when I did. But the stupid idiot does not know when to shut up, and thanks to him we wound up in the castle's jail."

At first Roland though Francis might have been a bit harsh in describing Tony to him, it took only a half a day for Roland to decide Francis was being generous to the man. Once Francis established that Roland was the captain of this mercenary company, Tony made all his demands toward Roland about what he wanted, which numbered greatly. After denying almost everything the young man requested, and informing him of the necessity of fitting in Caldaria, he had gone behind Roland's back and demanded from Katrin that she prepare him a hamburger, one of the many things he had would only eat, according to Francis.

Apart from the extra baggage attached to him Francis also had news about the prophecy, which upon hearing it disappointed Roland immensely, and only added more frustration to Roland's mood as the company march back to Suno. It was short, bleak and utterly a let down to Roland. The only bright side at the end of this journey was for Roland to report back to Henderson and drop off Francis and the pain in the ass Tony.

Suddenly Roland felt unguarded and turned to make sure Tony was right were he was supposed to be, next to Francis, and under the man's close eye to make sure he would not do something stupid, and to control his horse.

Assured that their passenger was not up to no good, Roland turned in his saddle and noticed a figure riding towards them. It was probably Deshavi, she and a few other Wolves were sent on ahead to scout the path and nearby brush to make sure their position and that they would not be ambushed.

"Sir," she called riding up to Roland's side. "Suno's not far off! Only about an hour's ride."

"That's great," Roland said brightly looking up at the sun trying to gage the time. It was somewhere between noon and afternoon, he thought.

"We'll be there by evening at the latest," Deshavi commented lightly, aware too well of Roland's inability to judge the time accurately.

"Thanks," he said tersely, "It will be a good place to rest, and the troop deserves one."

"Aye sir," she nodded in agreement, then her dark eyes shot a wearily look to the rest of the riders, in the direction of Tony. Roland knew why she was so wearily, Tony, apart from having nearly every sort of vice Roland despised, he was also a want to be ladies man, and by now had flirted with every female in the company. "Medieval chicks are easy," he had said when Roland confronted him about his reasons for trying flirt with people in the camp. The joke fell flat, and it only proved he was more of an idiot than Francis had described him.

Thank goodness, everyone in camp was level headed, and rejected him outright. He had even asked Klethi, Roland had to give him props for that, who just stared blankly at his advances, proving she hand never been flirted with before. Fortunately, Klethi was under the impression that Tony was a witch's name and threatened to gut him. That had shut him up, at least for an hour.

Now it was Deshavi's turn, and she was very uncomfortable around the man, and had requested to ride ahead just to get away from his "advances" (cheesy pick-up lines in other words).

"Go on ahead and tell the men to keep an eye out," he said giving a wink of understanding to the archer. With a sigh of relief, Deshavi kicked her horse forward and rode far ahead of the column of Wolves, and far, far away from Tony.

Feeling the need to check again, Roland craned around to see Tony still under the watchful eye of Francis. But then something clicked in his mind, and he gasped in shock, "Where is Perry?"

The bard was not in the party, nor did the captain see him in the encampment while they surrounded the castle. Where had he disappeared too? Was he a casualty lost in the siege? Or just get lost? Roland felt a pang of guilt, aware he actually missed the annoying little man, then he remembered all of the time he wished the bard to disappear and the feeling of missing man evaporated instantly.

Deshavi once again proved that her time estimating was dead on, by the middle of the late afternoon the Wolves had reached the outer gates of the city of Suno. Sending Artimenner, Francis and Tony,(and very grateful to be rid of Tony), up ahead of the troop to inform Henderson of their arrival, Roland turned his mind to finding room and lodging for about sixty or so Wolves. A regular task, but now thanks to the Wolves new bragging rights as castle takers they were like restless foxes in a bag, eager to use their new tale to mooch drinks and out boast any of the other mercenaries that would stick around to listen.

After finding a deserted inn with enough room for most of his men to rest comfortably, it took only five minutes for the drinks to start flowing as if it was rain.

"Maybe we should have waited a bit…" Haydee whispered to her captain.

Roland was inclined to agree, but then pondered on what they had to be celebratory about. "Nah," Roland said lightly, "I think they've earned it." He took a pair of tankards and handed one to, Haydee, "And so have we, Lieutenant…"

Haydee smiled and took the mug of alcohol, tapped it to his, "Agreed, Captain." They drank their mugs, only to gag on the contents. "Pfft, ah," she gasped spitting most of the drink out of her mouth.

"What is this?" Roland said between trying to spit the taste from his mouth. "It tastes like dung…"

"It must be made for those with an accustomed taste for it."

"That or those with no taste at all…" jeered Roland taking her mug to get rid of it.

"Excuse me," came a meek voice from the doorway of the inn. A young page stood nervously in the doorway, "Is thing the lodgings of the Wolves?"

"Yes it is," Haydee answered.

The page adjusted his surcoat, as if to draw attention to his Lords banner. "Count Henderson sends his blessings, and invites the captain of the Wolves, Roland, and his lieutenant, uh, the one called Haydee."

"I see," said Haydee a little aback at the invitation including her. She pointed in the direction of Roland, "That's Roland over there." Her captain saw the gesture towards his direction and walked over to meet the two of them.

"I take it you have news for me," he said.

"Yes, I am here to invite you and your lieutenant to Count Henderson's to dine with him privately tonight."

Roland glanced at Haydee and showed a smile, "I told you being my second in command has benefits, and now here you are being invited to Henderson's castle to dine with him." He added, "Now don't tell me you never have dreamed of such a thing."

"All my life, Roland," she said playfully.

"Tell the Count, we will be up to the castle directly," Roland nodded to the page.

"Yes sir," the page, but then added cautiously, "But I do not think he will be expecting you to bring a lady along with you sir…"

Roland met the page's eyes and laughed aloud, "I would say so! After all," he pointed to Haydee, "She's Haydee, my second in command."

"Oh, OH, I-I see sir—" he stammered, "I am sorry to make that mistake, and I am also sorry to—"

"It would be best to leave and get the message to Count Henderson," Haydee said plainly, "Before you say something else that offends me…"

"Yes, sir—ma'am— YES, I will!" and with that the page made himself scarce, his exit hastened by his embarrassment.

"Well…" sighed Roland.

"It seems like some people just can't accept me as a leader," she said almost sad.

"We do," said Roland, gesturing to the inn now a swarm of activity of what was the Wolves. She looked as well, there was Klethi and Deshavi sharing a table, working on their third tankard, Alayen, Jeremus and Ymira were lost in their game of Vert, but they shifted nervous glances around their table as the rest of the Wolves drank greedily and started losing their wits to the drink, as if the three of them could see the storm of chaos these troops would cause with the ale flowing as freely as it was.

"A cheer, men!" The noise chimed down as they turned to the captain, "For the one in charge of the siege! Haydee!" A bit cheesy, Roland thought, but she needed this quick bolster of confidence, and the Wolves did not disappoint and the room erupted into a chorus of loud and enthusiastic cheers.

Roland turned to Haydee, and saw the astonishment in her eyes, but it was less pronounced as he would have expected. Maybe it was less of an impact to her, or maybe she did not need as much of a bolster to her spirit because her spirit was not that low. Maybe he was wrong, maybe she didn't need this cheering as he thought she did...

"Roland…," She smiled brightly, "Thanks."

Roland shrugged, "Just reminding you what you did." He started towards the door, "We better get to the castle, if I know Henderson he will have a meal prepared for us."

"Shouldn't we leave someone in charge here?" Haydee asked.

"Who could be in charge of all of this?" Roland said nodding towards the Wolves. "They're way beyond reason.

"Good point," Haydee admitted.

"Best get out of here before it gets too wild," added Roland, and together they both ducked out of the inn and headed for the castle, leaving the Wolves to themselves.

Amidst the streets of Suno, Matheld the blonde Nord prowled the one of these roads her eyes darting from each and every storefront briefly glancing at their wears only to look towards the next vendor when she did not see what she was looking for. The innkeeper of their lodgings had informed her of a special weapons merchant who practiced in the business of buying, selling and repairing foreign weapons, and with a few more denarii then a threat of her axe when the price had grown too steep, she had learned of the street this place was located. Now all that remained was finding the damn place.

She tugged at the axe at her belt feeling the iron blade of the weapon shift unnaturally, reminding her why she was trying to find the place. When the Wolves cavalry charged in to rescue Haydee and the other Wolves, Matheld's axe had connected with a nail, or a joint, some part of a Khanate's armour that was harder then normal, and had shifted the blade of her axe out of the handle, making it loose and unbalanced in her hand.

A view more glances from side to side all with no luck, making her sigh exasperated. The long days on the road the Wolves travelled by where taking their toll on the Nord, and after getting her weapons fixed, she hoped to relax within the inn, if the Wolves were let her.

Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw something promising. A small wooden rack of weapons, all of old, rusted, chipped, and bent weapons; all of them from another part of Calradia then Swadia, this was the right place.

Heading towards the shop, she stopped short as a figure walk out of the shop she was about to walk into.

"You," she snarled at the man who had wounded her, the man known as Nizar.

"Ah," Nizar said his eye widening in surprise at the Nord's ambush. Trying to recover his wits, he smiled "Hello."

Matheld's greeting was less courteous; she had pulled out the axe she carried in a flash, rushing towards the dark man like a raging bull. Nizar who was holding a brand new sabre blade he had just purchased, managed to put the sword in between the incoming axe.

The attack failed, the Nord pulled back and tried again. Fully engrossed in the fight, Nizar was able to block the incoming easily, and the five after that.

"Easy." He exclaimed trying to calm the Nord down, "Easy! I have no intention to harm you!"

"Then why are you here!?" She exclaimed swinging her weapon aggressively towards his face.

"To purchase—," he had to cut short to duck the blow, before adding, "—this!" and threw the blade into Matheld's body. With a loud grunt of surprised she staggered back from the force the blade had.

Fearful it was a ruse for an attack, she dropped the sword and readied her axe for another strike, only to stop short when she witnessed Nizar standing their hands extended in the air, as a sign of resignation. Another ruse?

"I have no desire to fight," he said without worry. "And I have no reason to fight a lady. Besides…" he smiled, "It is rather unlike a Nord to kill an opponent who has surrendered his blade."

"Don't count on us being so noble," she said lowering her axe, "One of these days it might just be proven wrong." She picked up his sword and shoved it into Nizar's arms. "And it will be from someone far more foul tempered then me at this moment."

"Ah," he grunted taking the blade. "Thank you." Quickly he examined the blade and was relief to see no major breaks or dents in the iron. He gave an audible sigh, "I though you had ruined another blade of mine, like that night a few weeks ago."

"When you were prowling our camp looking for a throat to cut?" Matheld snapped.

"To deliver a message in secrecy, not to kill anyone I assure you."

"Feh," she snorted, thinking the acts were one in the same.

"Now," he said an inquisitive gleam appearing in his eyes, "Might I be so bold as to ask why you are here?"

Matheld only glowered at him sternly, yet he did not filch like most others would. She would put money that he would not rest until he found out. Silently she redrew her axe, but held it relaxed in her hands, and rocked it back and forth to show the looseness of the blade.

"Ah, I see. That too was caused my our little scuffle, eh? It is comforting to know we both damaged each other's weapons in that duel."

"Don't flatter yourself," she said crossly, putting her axe back. "I damaged it fighting cutting through a Khanate's rider's breastplate."

"I see, my lady," he said, making Matheld cringe at the last part of the pronoun. "But you are bringing it here, instead of a blacksmith's?"

"I want the job done right," she snapped matter-of-factly.

"Perhaps," he shrugged, "But I do not believe that is the whole truth… Lady Lolenkin."

She glared coldly at the man, "How the hell do you know my name?"

He shrugged, "I have my ways of learning about people… A rumour here, a noisy servant there, word gets around. And a tale of tragic as yours, is often told at inns and taverns in the north."

"And you know all?" She asked.

Shrugging again he started as if he was telling a story around a campfire, "I've heard of a woman who was the daughter of a mayor of a Nordic village, only child he bore making you the only one to inherit the duty when he passes. Then bandits attacked your village and threaten to pillage and burn the village, and it is hard to be the mayor of a village of rubble eh? So what could one do? Heh, challenge the leader of the bandits to a fight to the death? Not the bravest Swadian knight would make that challenge, but you did. You fought him, not the first time you held an axe in your hands I bet, but I am willing to bet it was the first time you ever killed someone." He saw the flash of alarm in her eyes and knew he was right in his guess.

"After killing the bandit leader, the rest of the brigades dispersed into the wild, never to be heard from again. But the woman was, "The bloody maiden" she was called after that and the word of all of the Nords, including several of the Jarls… such as Jarl Haeda the protector of the village."

"Jarl Kelric Lolenkin," she corrected angrily, "Jarl Haeda is the elder brother to Kelric."

"Ah, my mistake. The Jarl stopped by the village to thank the woman who saved his village. They met, fell in love, the lovers tale you've heard the older stories tell." He shrugged weakly this time, "And that is the extent of my knowledge of this woman's life."

"So you do not know all?"

"Alas I do not in the end." He smiled, "But I know a bit, you have to admit. I am quite good and finding out information. What I do not know now I may discover later."

"Whether you know all or nothing at all, I don't care." She confessed stepping pass Nizar into the store. "A woman who has been through that would not give a second thought as to her name, or what people say she as been through."

"But she must care about something." Nizar countered.

"She does," Matheld replied, but is was not her icy cold voice, it was monotone and informative.

"What would that be?" Nizar asked amused by her response.

"Her husband's name."

"The icy Nord cares for someone," he teased.

Matheld glared at him bitterly, and he felt he had crossed a line with teasing her. "I best be on my way. Best of luck in your searches my friend." He smiled, "And I have said it before, we will meet again."

"Best watch your head if we do," she snarled, fed up with Nizar's presence, "Because if we do meet again, my axe will be aiming for that.

He laughed lightly, "Heh, I will be sure to keep that in mind," and meandered off into the crowds of the street and disappeared like a shadow.

Glad to see the back of him, Matheld turned to enter the shop only to stop short of the door as a through tour through her mind: What is he doing here, in this city? She glanced back into the street again, but he was long gone into whatever crevasse he had crawled out of. She snorted aloud, and stormed into the shop; angry at herself for not finding out when she still was questioning him.

Roland and Haydee arrived at Suno's castle and were shown past the gate and into the main keep without a second of delay. Once inside they were met with Henderson himself, a smile beaming from his face. "Roland, Haydee, good to see you!"

"Henderson," Roland smiled back, the Count's smile spreading to his own face. "How are you?"

"I've actually had time to relax for a change. No new wars or tournaments to plan for. So I have time to sleep in for a change."

"I'm glad to see you are enjoying yourself while we are out doing all the work," Roland added folding his arms.

"Oh," Henderson shrugged, "I love to hear about my hired mercenaries out fighting the good fight against the Khanate." He gestured into the keep, "I have a meal ready for us. A sort of celebration for a successful return."

Roland and Haydee exchanged a curious glance; Henderson was prepared, too prepared to meet them. For him to receive word just this afternoon, and to have a "feast" ready for them in less then a few hours took some foresight. But Henderson had his ways, and if it was vital for him to know Henderson would tell him, Roland hoped.

The walk along the castle corridor, Haydee could hear the echoing of their footsteps as the trio walked towards the dinning hall. "It's… quiet, Henderson."

"I should be," Henderson answered, "I gave the servants leave for the day so we could speak in private with no chance of eavesdroppers on what we are talking about."

"I'm surprised you that worried about it now after all the times we discussed Earth with the servants nearby," said Roland.

The count wagged a finger, "This is more sensitive then what we discussed before, and also, we have a new face amongst us tonight. It would be beneficial for us to inform him of the dangers of Calradia without unused to ears lurking about to start rumours." Henderson turned to Haydee and added quickly, "I trust that we have your word that what is talked out tonight will not be passed on to another person."

"You have my word Henderson," she nodded aware of the subtle grave tone in his voice, "and I wanted to thank you for inviting me into your confidences."

"Heh," Henderson chuckled, "Don't thank me yet, Haydee. Whether you like it or not you're aware of our secret, and that could have some negative repercussions if we are not careful." He snapped his fingers, "Oh right, before I forget Roland, would you be so kind as to get rid of your tagalong before we begin."

"My tagalong?" He asked. Was he speaking about Haydee? But she was invited, Henderson himself just warned about not saying anything else to anyone. "Who would—"

"Roland! My illustrious captain!" Came an excited and familiar voice from behind him.

"Oh no," Roland said recognizing the voice. He had wondered what happened to him, but in the end was happy to be rid of that bard and that is was so easy. Dreading to turn, he slowed looked over his shoulder to see his worst fears take form. There, behind him, stood the persistent bard, Perry.

"Oh I am glad to see you successfully return from your campaign without so much as a scratch."

"What are you doing here?" Roland exhaled putting one hand to his brow.

"After your grand tournament in Dhirim I discovered you were acquainted with the Count Henderson, so naturally when I followed the Wolves a few weeks ago I decided to try to woo Henderson with my musical charms. But then I heard of your brave assault on the castle, and nearly flew myself into shame of missing it!" He slammed his fist to his heart and raised his chin, "Well no more I say! From now on I will be ever vigilant in following the great captain Roland in his path making sure I record and sing everything you have done and are about to do!"

"Oh god," Roland swore shaking his head and praying it was all a bad dream.

"This is my solemn vow, from now till I die I will forever spread the word of the great Roland of the Wolves. Slayer of thousands of men! Feeder of thousands of orphans! And lover of hundreds of women!"

Haydee had to put a hand to her mouth to hide a smirk at her captain's embarrassment, and was encouraged to see Henderson was doing likewise. "Perhaps it would be wise to head to our inn. Most of the troop is there already and they can fill you in on what you do not know." She added trying to get rid of Perry.

"An excellent idea, Lady Haydee. Where is this inn?" Haydee had to speak up again after a long pause of all of them expecting Roland to fill in that information. "Ah, very well I will be off! Farewell for tonight, my dear captain! I hope you enjoy the counts hospitality!" And like a gust of wind, the bard Perry was gone into the evening, towards the inn were the rest of the Wolves were staying, and were he planned to nestle into the troop like a thistle.

"I thought I had gotten rid of him," Roland sighed aloud.

"You can't get rid of a wart that easy," Henderson mussed, "What makes you think he would be any easier?"

"One can dream…" Roland replied.

"Indeed," Henderson laughed, "Now that he is gone, shall we begin the meal?"

"Gladly," Roland nodded, happy for anything to take is mind off of Perry's grand return into his life.

Once brought into the groups personal dinning hall way from the main feast hall, Roland did indeed forget all about Perry and all of the other problems of the Wolves. The sight of the large feast was enough to drain his mind of any roadblocks and any worries. There was a large chicken in the centre of the table, surrounded by two large legs of pork, bluntly of fresh bread with butters and jams, and a large cauldron of stew or something of the like.

Roland hid a frown as he noticed that Tony's plate was already full and his mouth vigorously working on a piece of food.

"I see someone couldn't wait," Henderson commented barely hiding his contempt.

"Sorry," Tony said chopping noisily, "Didn't know we were supposed to wait."

"I see," the Count replied a little more contempt seeping from his voice. He turned to Roland and Haydee, "It seems like they have already started without us. I guess we might as well start." With the Count's permission the meal begun. Fortunately, Roland and Haydee were seated between Francis and Henderson, leaving the unfortunate task of seating next to the newest arrival from home to Nox and Henderson, which was entertaining to watch. Tony would precede make a snide remark or observation about Calradia, (take for example the one stated earlier, "medieval chicks are easy") only to have it dismissed by Henderson, be ripped to shreds by Nox, or to have it be dismissed by the Count. Roland was considering revenge for taking the fat man with him, and soak in every moment of it like a sponge.

Eventually, Tony realized he was becoming the source of everyone's jeers and for once was content with gorging himself and remaining silent the rest of the evening. With the annoying man quieted for the night, the topics managed to shift to more pleasant conversation. Francis had inquired about recent events at Suno, where Roland discovered that Henderson's investment of a bathhouse was not paying off. Nearly a week it had been open and there had been little commercial gain at all. Henderson and Nox had ignored the common superstition the citizens of this age had about baths being unhealthy for them, disrupting their "humours" as they described it.

Then the topic to discussion shifted towards Roland's contribution in this whole scheme, and the more exciting part: the siege. The beginning part was boring, and Roland skimmed though it all the way toward the night when Haydee took the tonic and had fallen into a deep coma of a slumber. Then, Henderson had interjected and asked Haydee what she did for the rest of the siege, hinting that Henderson knew a few more details then Roland and Haydee both assumed. But she answered fully and modestly, and explained what inspired her to used flaming arrow as a diversion and so on. (I really don't have to go through everything again do I?)

When the final part, were Emir Dhashwal was murdered by Arwa on the northern tower, all of the food on the table had been picked clean, and nearly everyone had their fill. But the meal was not over yet.

"I have a surprise for all of you," Henderson confessed, a mischievous smile tipping the ends of his mouth upward. Stepping over to a covered plate that was ignored by everyone, he removed the over to reveal a crust like pastry with bright golden cracks showing out of it. "An apple pie."

"Good Ol' American food!" Tony declared happily, only to be scowled at by Nox about a certain food not being the property of a single country, only to start an argument between the two of them about if a county could be the "greatest in the world." Roland and the others ignored it aware that it did little good where they where at, despite a nagging need to correct his false declaration, and Haydee just ignored it because she had no idea what was going on.

"I made it as a special event, for finally uncovering the prophecy." Roland and Francis exchanged a nervous look. "Maybe we are not so far away from returning home after all."

"Says the one who does not know if he his going home," Roland commented quickly.

"Look whose talking," Henderson sniped handing Roland a piece of the pie.

"How did you make this?" Asked Francis eager waiting for his piece.

"My cooks were confused for a while on what I needed them to do, and it was a pain to find replacements for some ingredients like sugar and cinnamon, but I had them make two, Nox and I tried the first and found it reasonable for what they had to work with."

Roland looked at his piece of the pie, and tried to remember the last time he had devoured a pie. It must have been about four years ago, if not more. What he did remember about apple pie, Roland could discern he was not a fan of the taste. A plain apple sure, but baked and covered in seasoning mad him gag for some reason. But that was back on earth, and in the time here he had to eat many things that would have made him gag if he was earth; so he was willing to tempt is tastes.

Sure enough, taking a part of the pie with is spoon and slowly trying the first bite he realized he could handle the taste. He was not an instant lover for this kind of pastry, but he was not against it in the end. He took a quick look at Haydee who was having trouble deciding what to do with her piece.

"What is this "apple pie"?" She asked.

"It's a pastry that is baked like bread with apple inside it."

"I see," she marvelled, "I've heard of a meat pie but never of adding fruit to it."

Roland shrugged, "It's more of a traditional meal then anything else. I've never really cared for it myself." He noticed Haydee follow his example and used her spoon to cut into dessert, only to play with it on her spoon, contemplating whether she would try it or pass. Final she made up her mind plunging the food into her mouth. Slowly she chewed the pie, and let the valour reach her tongue.

"It's not bad," she informed Roland.

"Glad to see someone's enjoying it," Roland said pushing the rest of the pie away unable to eat anymore.

Once the dessert was finished, the room became quiet with the occupants having a full belly of warm food. "Now," Henderson said breaking the silence like a thunder clap, "I think it is time we got down to business… Francis." All eyes turned toward the man. "I think you know what we are about to ask."

"Yeah," Francis sighed dreading the part that came next. "And I must let you all know, what I found is not…" He couldn't find the right word to describe what he knew.

"Whatever it is, as long as it helps us, I do not care," Henderson retorted."

Francis sighed again, and reached inside a pocket to pull out a scrap tattered piece of paper. "After several months of searching around Calradia, I found a rumour that a "Witch of the Plains" would know a bit about this prophecy."

"The 'Witch of the Plains?' You went to a witch, when we are trying to avoid painting ourselves as witches," Henderson inquired.

"I was desperate," Francis begrudgingly admitted. "This isn't damn Seattle, Rick! There isn't a city hall I can go to look up a record of someone! I can't just go to a local stink-hole and find the latest scoop. Or stake out a hotel hoping to find somethin'."

"What does any of this have to find out about the prophecy?" Nox asked annoyed.

"I'm just sayin' it's not easy to find information in this sparse world. Villages don't trust strangers and hardly want to talk to anyone on the outside of their little town! Not even half my purse would get the most talkative person to share their gossip with me."

"We understand," Henderson said coolly trying to draw Francis away from his rant.

"It took me awhile, but I eventually found her in the Khanate plains outside of Amashke. Turns out she has some sort agreement with the villagers— they don't try to burn her and she offers them medicine. It's kept her alive these past seven years."

"Damn," Henderson praised, "That's longer then I've been here."

"Yeah, bets all of us. Anyway she knew very little but was able to tell me of another woman in Dugan who knew somethin'. So I went there. That's when I ran into him…" he pointed to Tony, "Beggin' for his life at the damn village, and he still wearin' his earth clothes. He was about to be burned for as a witch, and I was about to use the same trick I did to save Roland, but then I was worried I would ruin my chances to find anything our in the village. So I went to the woman first, found out what I could, and then saved his ass."

"I knew I saw you in the village before you bastard!" Tony said standing up and pointing angrily at Francis.

"And who was stupid enough to get us arrested in Asugan Castle!" Francis shot back, "I didn't stick my neck out for you just to have it be thrown in jail because you where stupid enough to insult a garrison commander! So don't yell at me, you idiot!"

'What did the lady say?"

Francis looked at Henderson for a moment, took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and looked at his paper, "This is what I wrote down after I talked with the lady in Dugan," he looked around the table, "Are you ready?"

"YES!" nearly everyone exclaimed, apart from Haydee who understood nothing of the importance of this reading, and Roland who had heard it before and was aware why Francis was being so evasive to read it.

"Alright," Francis sighed for the final time, and turned to his notes to read. The entire room had gone quiet, and not so much as a breath could be heard from anyone.

When Francis spoke, his voice was different, noncommittal. Like a lawyer explaining a part of the law he was not responsible for.

"From afar, travellers will come to unite Calradia, and bring it prosperity."

And then he stopped, to look up around him.

"That's it?" Tony asked, as if elected to be the voice of the room.

Francis refolded the paper and nodded grimly, "That is it…"

"That can't be all." Henderson gapped.

"'Fraid so, Rick. That was all the woman knew…"

"Just what the bloody hell are you playing at!" Interjected Nox, quite outraged at the brief revelation.

"Hey! I just poked around to see what I could find! That's I what I did, and that is what I learned!"

"Bullocks!" Nox retorted. And the two were into an argument: Nox accusing Francis of being a sham of a PI, and Francis defending himself.

Henderson, meanwhile could only rest his palm on his forehead to try and comprehend the little information they had been given. Looking around the table trying to see how everyone else was taking this news, only to see Roland sitting back as if standing away from the other that was filling the room.

"I take it you knew about this?" Henderson asked drained of all emotion.

Roland shrugged, "Yeah, I did."

"And you didn't warn us?"

"It was probably best to hear it from the horse's mouth, Henderson." Roland reason, not really caring about if he had upset Henderson by not relaying his concerns he held about the prophecy. "Besides you would have been upset just as much if I had told you rather then Francis."

"Maybe…" Henderson admitted. The room suddenly grew silent as a loud horn could be heard from a nearby window.

"What is that?" Tony asked.

"A warning that our time with this meal is drawing to a close. That is a horn I ordered one of my guards to sound when it drew towards dusk. The servants will be returning to the castle when they hear that horn, and it will be best for us to end our…" he paused trying to find a word, "discussion before they return and clear up our mess." He looked to Francis, "If you want to sleep off your ride, your room is ready for you." He briefly looked at Tony for only a second before he knew what he could do to get rid of him. "Show Tony to Roland's old room he can stay there."

"Alright! A bed!" Tony cheered happily.

"It ain't as good as you think it is." Francis informed him, happy to ruin Tony's good cheer. And together they departed the room to seek their rooms to rest, eager to sleep the few nights of travelling away.

Nox stood up immediately after two left and informed the room, "I'm heading to my study, and going to try to find somethin' more then Francis did."

"Suit yourself," Henderson said dismissively. Now with only Roland and Haydee remaining in the room, Henderson asked, "I hope I could bother you for a moment Roland, but I would like to talk with you, if you do not mind Haydee."

"Not at all," she said perplexed.

"Thank you, if you do not mind the trouble, I could show you to the main hall where you could be waited on by the returning servants, if you wish."

"That would be fine." She replied, following Henderson out of the room and towards the great hall, leaving Roland alone in the dinning hall. Alone for the first time in weeks, the mercenary captain's thoughts drifted towards what had just been revealed to the rest of the room.

While it was true he had heard it a week before hand, he had never had some alone time to disgust its meaning until now. From afar travellers will come to untie Calradia and bring its prosperity. Could the word "travellers" mean people from a far off world? They certainly didn't have the word "planet" yet in their vocabulary, so "traveller" would be the most fitting word in their limited vocabulary.

But if it did mean people from earth, the line forecasted some dark storms ahead. It said they would bring they would bring prosperity to Calradia, and wasn't that what they were doing already? Shouldn't that be enough? Or maybe they needed to up the scale a little more, to get home. And then their was no sign of finding a way home form that line, all it said was what they would do, but it never said it would bring them home. Maybe they were stuck here for life after all.

"Sorry to kept you waiting."

Roland lurched up from his thoughts at the sound of the latch of the door opening and Henderson's voice. He had lost a track of time in his musings. "No problem…" Roland said revering his calm.

"The servants will be here soon to clean this room," Henderson commented, "So the best place to talk in private is in my chambers."

"Whatever works," Roland sighed lazily getting to his feet. He had never been in Henderson own room before, but he had always heard it was a luxurious compared to the other room, including the one he stayed in while living in the castle.

It certainly was.

Henderson's personal bed chamber was in the middle of one of the great round towers on the edge of the keep. A floor above Nox's personal study too. At the very back of the room was a large makeshift canapé bed, draped in red silken sheets and looked as soft as a cloud. Around the edges of this round room, bookshelves spotted with many different books and objects cluttered the shelves. Opposite the bed was a balcony that looked out over the entire city of Suno, and in the middle of that and the bed was a small table with two comfortable looking chairs on either side of it. On the table two things caught Roland's eye, a large pitcher of some sort of liquid, chilling in the night air, and a letter that must have just arrived.

"Make yourself at home," Henderson said cheerfully. "I brought up a special kind of drink you might like."

"You know I can't drink ale," Roland responding.

"Who said it is ale? It's made from a complete different material then grapes or grain."

"What is it then?" Roland asked walking towards the table to try some.

"Cider. I found it while travelling up north in the Nord lands. I knew you didn't like much of the drink found in this world, so I bought this hoping you might like it."

Roland had heard of it, the Nords enjoyed Cider as well as something called Mead, one was made form apples the other honey. Although it sounded delicious, Roland could never bring himself to try it. But if it was right here, he might as well try it.

He poured a small measure of the liquid into his cup, sniffed the drink, and not finding the strong bite of an ale smell, he took a sip. The taste that met his tongue was not bad, but it certainly was not what he was expecting either. "It's not bad," he admitted.

"Glad to see you like it," Henderson said pouring himself a drink, "Give it some time, you might grow a taste for it."

Roland didn't object, and poured a bigger measure of cider to drink, while cautiously looking at the letter on his desk. Addressed to Henderson, from a Lady Aye.

"Have an admirer now, eh?" Roland jeered.

"What?"

"You have a letter from a Lady Aye?"

Henderson grew a smile, "Oh that. Yes I get them from time to time." taking a seat at one end of the table, he snatched up the letter and put it in his surcoat. "She thinks she is so clever with that name…"

"Lady Yes?"

"No, it's a pun Roland. It's got nothing to do with what her name means but how it sounds. She originally called herself Lady I, I as in ignorant. But she wanted to add a bit more secrecy to the letters so we call her "aye" instead."

"I see," Roland said getting the joke now. "So who is she?"

"'Friad I cannot say, Roland. It's too dangerous for you to know who I flirt with."

"Alright," Roland said sensing it would be unwise for him to probe any further.

"Speaking of letters," Henderson said remembering something and walked to one of his shelves where a stack of letters sat, "Lady's Sonadel's letters have come for you. She sent a runner to ask where you were and I informed her she could leave them here for your return," he finished placing them in form of Roland.

"Thanks," Roland said half-heartily, unsure to be grateful for Henderson for saving the letters, or annoyed that now he would have to read them later. "I take it you read them?"

"Hardly," Henderson laughed at his jeer, "It may not be illegal here, but I do have some honour after all."

"Really?" Roland teased. "I would have never guessed…"

Henderson chuckled lightly and stretched his back until he sighed relieved, "Quite a bit of bad news Francis brought tonight."

"I wouldn't call it bad news," Roland argued.

"Then what would you call it? Bad luck?" He looked at Roland who could not think of an answer, and steamed ahead, "At the end of the tunnel it means the same thing. We know as little as we started."

"I wouldn't say that," Roland countered. "Little information is better then none."

"And almost no information? Is that better then none?"

"Dammit Henderson, I don't know."

"Yeah," Henderson moaned slowly, "me neither…"

"I bet Nox doesn't know either," Roland said playfully, "That's why he was so pissed off at what Francis said."

"Probably," Henderson laughed half heartily, still pondering the little information they had gained and looking pessimistically at the repercussions.

"Still, despite what Francis had to say, there had to be some good news in the end, right?" Roland mused trying to find some sliver lining to cheer the mood.

"True," Henderson had to admit with a smile, "This whole event with taking the castle is bound to increase the Wolves' standing in the Calradian eyes. Apart then the Khanate that is."

"Yeah," Roland sighed letting his head rest on the top of his chair, "A troop of men, taking a castle with more then they had, and only wound up losing six men from it. That would be in the headlines back in home."

"But here you'll have to settle for tavern gossip."

"Close enough. If any power hungry Jarl, Lord, or Count didn't think we were that powerful, they will now…"

"Plenty more fan mail."

"That's what I am afraid off," Roland admitted. "More requests, and many of them not used to being told "no"."

"You're worried they are not going to be happy with your answer?"

"I'm worried they won't accept my answer."

"You know," Henderson said as he thought, "This could be a sign that you might need to settle down."

"What?!"

"I mean in a physical sense," Henderson corrected, "You and the Wolves travel all round Calradia throughout the year. Maybe you need to change that about your life style."

"No," Roland countered quickly, "I'm not doing that."

"Why?"

"Because we do not know if we can go back."

"Francis's info seemed to kill that idea. It was never said that if we did untie Calradia and bring about prosperity, we could return home."

"But there is a chance."

"Not one to bank on any further, or to hope that we might discover anything else."

"Still…" Roland groaned trying to find the words, "I doubt I could afford it. I don't have the freedom to trade if I was a vassal of some King."

"Money was never your driving force, Roland. And you are rich enough to pay for you men for several years before you could even run our of money. Plus a word form me in the right direction, during a war, or if you marry well, King Harlaus would me more then eager to give you village maybe a castle as well."

"I don't know," Roland was forced to admit.

Sighing loudly Henderson shook his head, "You better come to grips with what you know Roland. Our ticket out of here seems very slim now. Like I said I am not going to help you be indecisive while we are here. I am going to leave that to you."

"I-I know…"

"Besides, it's no longer Roland, the hero of the Wolves that the other Lords might want to recruit. Haydee is now being talked about a lot."

"You and I know not many lords would giver her the time of day because she is a woman," Roland said reminding Henderson of the local tendencies in regarding women in power.

"I can think of a few. You, myself, and Arwa. Especially since she is now in desperate need of friends and allies."

"What do you mean?"

"She had to flee the Khanate for her life."

"I thought the Khan had invited her as a guest."

"He did," Henderson recanted pouring himself another glass of cider, "Unfortunately things did not work out for her. Think of it this way: Arwa knowingly went to a besieged castle, to speak to her daughter who was working for the very troop that took the castle— in fact Haydee was the person who took it away from the Khan— all the while not doing anything to inform the Khanate of said siege, nor prevent it from her end. She even had you, one of the generals of the siege, and yet did not try to ransom you to the Wolves to abandon the siege, let alone for a pause in the fight."

"But she killed Emir Dhashwal, an enemy to the Khan!"

"It didn't matter to the Khan that one lord had died. There will always be more lords to kill, but losing a castle was far more important to the loss of an Emir. So she was branded a traitor and was to be executed. Yet before she could be captured she was warned and fled the Khanate taking what supporters she had. She's now in hiding for the past week now and no one seems to know where she is." Henderson saw a look and guilty paint Roland's face. "You're upset about this?"

"I can't help but feel I helped cause that."

"It's not your fault," Henderson shrugged. "You didn't ask her to come, nor to capture you. So it's best not to blame yourself."

Roland looked at Henderson in shook, realizing this was the second time he had mentioned his "capture" to Arwa. "How do you know Arwa took me?"

Henderson's face flushed with alarm as he realized he had said too much. "Y-you told me," he stuttered.

"I never did," Roland said now on the hunt for the bottom of this revelation: Henderson never stuttered. "Not even Haydee knew I was 'captured', she knew I spoke to her mother but I never gave her details, and no one in the Wolves knew either. So how do you know?"

Henderson remained silent for a moment, as if he was weighing the pros and cons of informing Roland of his secret. Finally he gave a defeated sigh, "I suppose it's fair that you should know about my source."

"You're damn right." Roland exclaimed angrily, offended by the thought that Henderson had a sort of 'snitch' in his troop.

Henderson made no reply to Roland, but half turned towards the door and yelled, "I know you're there! You can come in!" Roland raised an eyebrow, was it Haydee who was eavesdropping again. Was she the spy.

The door opened, and while Roland was relived to see it was not any one of his troop, he was still shocked by who it was. "You!"

There on the other side of the door, was Nizar, the dark skinned supporter of Arwa. "Hello my friend," Nizar smiled amused at the fact this was the second Wolf he had shocked today.

"What are you doing here?"

"He's a spy for me, Roland" Henderson admitted.

"WHAT?!" He exclaimed. "When?"

"For a while now," Henderson shrugged.

"But he was working for Arwa!"

"An accidental event, and a bit of long story, I'm afraid." Nizar shrugged. And the man was into a long narrative about how he had joined Arwa the Pearled One's company.

Apparently Henderson had grown worried about sending Roland on a task he was unversed in, and after receiving news from the Sultanate that Emir Dhashwal would be one of the few Emir's the Sultan could give to the siege effort Henderson decided Roland would need more help. So he sent Nizar, his best spy to assist in anyway that he could, preferably infiltrating Asugan Castle before Roland and the siege army arrived. However along the way Nizar became distracted.

It was not of his own making, to Nizar's defence. On the outskirts of Halmar a group of Steppe bandit's saw him and decided to chase after him across the Steppes of the Khanate. With a fresher horse, Nizar would have gotten away, but since his animal was tired, it seemed like Nizar was bound to be one of the Steppes' next victims.

And yet, luck seemed to have stepped in to save him. Along the way he ran into a group of soldiers, Khanate solders, on the prowl for such bandits that Nizar was fleeing from. And their leader was none other then Arwa the Pearled One.

Eager to assist and seeking revenge on the annoyance the bandits caused him, Nizar fought along side the soldiers proving himself a capable fighter and saving Arwa life in the process. Once the fight was over, Arwa offered him a chance to join her and her troop.

Realizing this troop entering Asugan Castle would be a less conspicuous then one lone man entering, adding into the fact he now had some pull over Arwa after saving her life, he decided to follow the troop back to Halmar where he would convince them that the Asugan pass leading into the Sultanate would be very lucrative for them, if they fought the Sultanate Patrols. Convicted that he had swayed most of the troop, apart form a Khanate man known as Baheshtur; Nizar slept deeply that night at the plan that might work.

Unfortunately the next morning they found the city surrounded by the Sultanate's forces, blocking all chances for Arwa's troop to escape for a week and a half, until the Khan's main army came by to scare the siege army away. Now behind schedule and unwilling to give up the best chance into the castle, Nizar took Arwa aside to inform her of a rumour that the Wolves were planning to take Asugan castle, knowing full well Arwa and Haydee's relationship. Within two days, they were outside Asugan Castle, only to find them too late. The castle was besieged leaving no way in for Nizar.

Yet, Nizar still could help Roland out. Before Arwa could even decide what to do, a messenger had sent her a note from Dhashwal, full of lies about Roland, the Wolves and the condition of her daughter, informing her it would be impossible to talk with her child as long as Roland lived. In a rage, Arwa took the suggested idea Dhashwal had said and was planning a vengeful attack against the Wolves at dusk, under the impression that Dhashwal would support her to free her daughter. But Nizar had talked her down into trying to reach her daughter, and had offered to place a note at her tent.

That was when he met Matheld for the first time…

When the attack never came, Dhashwal rode out to met with Arwa. Wishing to be alone, Arwa sent her men out in the village to talk in private, apart form her second in command, the mentioned Baheshtur. Not willing to be left in the dark, he tried to sneak around the building towards the window, were Roland was sleuthing around as well. Thinking it was another spy for the Khanate, Nizar acted as he saw fit, and knocked out the spy before realizing who it was.

"So you had no idea it was me?" Roland asked not convinced.

"I had never seen you before my friend. Henderson had only described what you looked like, and when I saw the Wolf surcoat I realized my mistake. But by then you were fading out cold, and there was nothing I could do."

"You turned me over as a prisoner." He retorted hotly.

"I couldn't hide you in the cabbage field, until you woke up. I am afraid my friend, the only possible way I could keep the situation under control was to turn you into Arwa." He shrugged apologetically, "Besides it worked out in the end."

"For all but Arwa, huh?" Roland shot back in a foul enough mood to try and sour Nizar's smug response. "She's in hiding, her life's in danger and she may never get to see her daughter again."

"Not entirely true Roland," Nizar smiled sharing a look with Henderson. "She is in hiding, and her life is in danger, but seeing her daughter is something very feasible indeed."

"How? Henderson just said she was in hiding! And you were with her—" he stopped with a start, realizing what Nizar's present indirectly meant.

Hayah Deema, the second in command of the Wolves, sat in the great hall playing with a tankard of ale one of servants had given to her. Much like Roland she could not stomach the taste of the drink and preferred something smoother and less bitter, but the servants had given it to her to help her pass the time until Roland return.

Similar to Roland, Haydee's thoughts shifted to the revelation from Francis. This was one of the few times she heard of this "prophecy" as well as one of the few times she was aware that Roland and the other might be here for a reason. Unite Calradia, and bring prosperity, it read accordion to Francis.

She frowned to herself, letting the words seep in into her mind. Many Calradian lords of old had claimed that they were destined to be the next Emperor of this land, mimicking the first Empress and kings after her, and all of them had failed their promises.

However this was different then the power hungry attempts' to claim divine providence of a higher power, instead the source of information came from a third party who was unfamiliar to them, and had no reason to lie to them about this. Plus they all seemed to be unhappy at this news, not what she thought would be a reaction to the fact they were suppose to unite the surrounding lands and help flush out it's wealth. Most nobility Haydee could think of would be encouraged by this foretelling of their future and seek out to accomplish it head on, but not these people, it seemed. Maybe that's why she believed they could do it, that Roland could do it.

"Excuse me," a voice cut in to her thoughts, she turned her head to see a shy servant standing one of the doorways, "There is a lady wishin' to see you ma'am."

"Who?" Haydee asked.

"No idea, ma'am. But she says it's important." Haydee frowned at the vague answer. She knew no one from the castle, let alone any "lady". Maybe it was Ymira, coming to inform Roland and her of some bad news… maybe the Wolves had burned down the inn, or Klethi gone on a murderous rampage…

"I see, I will see her then," Haydee said guarding herself for the expected bad news she was expecting from a sudden visit.

But the woman who stepped into the doorway, was not what she was expecting. She was tall, almost lankly, her dark ebony hair cut a bit longer then Haydee's, and only showed a single grey hair giving the illusion she was young, but the face told another story. While the face appeared to be aged, it still shown it's former beauty, like a slightly wilted flower it's former colours still vibrate though a bit faded.

"Hello," Haydee said at length, not recognizing the woman at all, but rising to her feet by some unknown will. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," the woman said in a familiar voice.

"Who are you?" Haydee asked, her mind plagued by the attempt to place the voice.

"You do not recognize me…" the woman asked, all most hurt. "Hayah Deema?"

Those words had made the memory click in Haydee's mind, and she realized who it was standing in the doorway. "Mother," she whimpered, rushing towards her to embrace the woman. Arwa did not resist, and joined the embrace openly.

"My dear," Arwa cooed, "Oh, my darling dear daughter." She pulled away and saw her daughter's face for the first time. "Oh, gods," she exclaimed seeing the scars on her profile. She slowly caressed the large scar that fell across her eye, "My daughter, who did this to you?"

"An assassin," Haydee said, "One Dhashwal sent to make sure I was dead." She felt her mother then touch her newer scar, the one given to her and could have killed her if she had not worn her helmet. "That one from a castle guard at Asugan when we stormed the walls."

At first Arwa felt the rage boil within her blood at the thought of anyone doing any form of harm to her daughter, only to have it change into guilt for not being their for her to protect her. "I'm sorry I could not have been there to keep you safe."

"Don't, mother. It was not your fault what happened."

"I should have looked," Arwa chided herself, "I should have searched for you even after I heard you were dead, that way I could have save you from so much pain."

"I do not blame you for what happen," Haydee said trying to console her mother.

"I still feel guilty, Hayah. I should have been there."

"But you are here now," Haydee countered.

"Yes," Arwa smiled weakly, "Yes I am. And I swear as long as you travel with me, I will never let a soul so much as lay a finger on you."

"Travel with you?" Haydee asked in confusion.

"Yes," Arwa nodded, "I need you to help me take our family's vengeance on the Sultan for what he did to our family. With you at my side, we will crush him and put you were you rightfully belong, as a lady in the Sultanate court."

"What do you intend to do with uncle?" Haydee said stepping away from her mother in concern.

"To end his life, Hayah," she said coldly, "Like he ended his brother's, my husband's life. As well as to restore our family name to the Sultanate!"

"And bring more blood to our family hands?"

"He had the blood of my children and my husband on his hands. He murdered them for going against them!"

"He was deceived mother," Haydee countered, "As we all were by Dhashwal's lies."

For a moment Arwa turned away, well aware that she too was guilty of believing in Dhashwal. "I know my daughter, but it does not change the fact that he has their blood on his hands. And I want you to help me avenge them." Haydee turned away sickened, no longer able to look at her mother as the once caring woman she once knew. "Please, Hayah, I cannot do this without you… I have few allies, and little supports, please consider the position I am in—"

Haydee slammed fist to the great table that sat in the middle of the room, stopping her mother short, "And what about the position you are putting me in?!" He asked bitterly. "You come in from who knows where to tell me I need to kill the only family I have left? To cause more blood just to avenge our family?"

"It's what they would want!"

"How do we know that?! They're dead, mother! Killing Hakim will not bring them back no matter how hard you wish it, nor will it make their deaths less horrible! It will just spill more blood, more of our family's blood. Hasn't their been enough already?"

"Hakim killed them without hesitation! As if they were cattle!"

"I know that, I know that better then anyone mother!" Haydee yelled, her eyes watering in rage, "But still I have no anger against the Sultan! I understand why he killed father and brothers. And I know if it were different father would do the same."

"Do not speak of your father that way!"

Haydee had to look away, she was unable to meet her mother stare. "Father and my brothers are dead, mother. Nothing can change that nothing can bring them back. I understand that and accept that." Then she met Arwa's green eyes, "And I have no intention of fighting my uncle, nor leaving where I belong."

"You mean the Wolves?" Arwa asked shocked by this new information. "You would stay with a mercenary troop, as second in command, while a man who murdered your family sits on this thrown unpunished for spilling innocent blood! That power should be yours by right my daughter to atone for what he has done!"

"If uncle died tomorrow and left the Sultanate to me, I would not take it." She said plainly, "I've seen the look on his face, he does not enjoy the power he has mother. He is oppressed by it, by the need to constantly show his authority to his lesser Emirs, by ending people who oppose him."

"I saw my uncle, I saw the pain he held in his eyes, the guilt he has when he looks at me, what it did to him to kill his own brother." He clenched her jaw and looked at her mother hotly, "And I will not do that to my own family."

"I am your family," Arwa countered desperately not wanting to lose her daughter's support.

"I know, but I can't follow you were you want to go, mother. I can't fight against my uncle just for father's sake. Besides," she added proudly turning to look at her mother, "I have a place with the Wolves, as second in command of them. And I want to stay with them."

"With Roland?" Arwa sneered, angry at the mention of the captain who in her mind had caused most of her misfortune after she left Asugan Castle. "That lying bastard."

"There is more to him then you know, Arwa." Haydee retorted using her mother name, letting her know she had gone too far. She could understand her mother wanting revenge, and there had been times before she had seen her uncle were she wanted to hen his life in a fit a rage. But insult Roland, the person who had saved her, given her protection while the Emir secretly hunted her, and gave her the confidence as well as the chance to prove she could lead a troop of trained men; that was the limited Haydee could handle. "And he has helped me from a scared little girl into what I am now. I owe him more then my gratitude: I owe him my loyalty."

She straighten her back, "And I intend to do that, mother."

"Why?" Arwa gapped at her as if she was a whole another person then to the child she bore and rose.

"It's who I am," Haydee said firmly, "I am a Wolf, one of Roland's Wolves, and I want to stay with them." She turned, only to stop short to add another point, "And I've stopped calling myself Hayah Deema, my name is Haydee, like what my brothers called me. It helps keep their memory close to me."

"Now," Haydee said formally, as if she was taking to a stranger, "I better return to the inn we are staying, and make sure they do no more damage then we can handle. It seems like Roland and Henderson are still talking the night away, and might be a while still, so someone with a clear head better get back to sort them out." She looked at her mother, and her voice softened, "I'm glad to see you are well, mother. And I hope you the best in your future endeavours. But I cannot bring myself to spill more blood of our family. I'm sorry…" she added mournfully, truly sorry.

Arwa watched in silence as her daughter walked away from her mother. Who was this person who called herself Haydee? She was a completely different woman then the girl she had left before leaving her husband. She was not the loyal and obedient daughter anymore but her own person very unlike the person she thought she could be. I've been deceived, Arwa concluded angrily. Roland's offer of having her leave the Wolves seemed like she was a tagalong, eager for anyone to offer her anything better and leave the troop, not the be undyingly loyal to the troop. She looked at her daughter again who was approaching the end of the hall. But, maybe I was wrong form the very beginning.

"Haydee," Arwa called, "Wait." The Wolf turned, to look at her mother. "I understand I know little about what you have gone through, and that I did not account for your feeling in my personal revenge." Arwa gulped, feeling the pride, the stern cold harshness façade she had to show to her men to keep face try to stop her from admitting she was incorrect. But, it was her pride or her daughter, and she was not about to lose more of her family, if she could help it. "And I also know now I know little about you Haydee. But I would like the chance to talk, and to find more about you…" She gulped and added another sting to her pride by saying, "Please."

Haydee turned, "I would like that."

"She's down stairs now?" Roland gapped.

"Probably talking with Haydee as we speak catching up with each other." Henderson raised a quizzical eyebrow, "You look worried."

"I did promise her that I would release Haydee from my employment if she would allow me to help her take the castle."

"Ah, I remember that…" Nizar smiled.

"And you are worried she is here to collect?" Henderson mused. Roland nodded. "I wouldn't worry about it, Roland. I doubt she'd leave you to manage the Wolves on your own now that she has some authority." Roland nodded, accepting Henderson's point, but still unable to not worry the worst might happen.

"I suppose I am not needed any more, my lord? With Francis now safe in his room, my job is done." Nizar asked.

"Yes, Nizar, you've done enough. You may retire for the night."

Nizar gave a courteous bow, and turn to depart but stopped to look at Roland, "Before I leave, my friend, allow me to offer my services to you. Should you need my assistance in anything, spying, information, or only wish to learn the gossip of a certain individual, speak to Henderson and he will be able to direct you to me."

"I will keep that in mind." Roland promised. And with another smile, Nizar was gone.

"He seems very sly." Roland commented.

"Oh, completely." Henderson praised. "He discovered our little secret after a month of employment."

"Our little secret being?"

"Earth, Roland. He knows about how we do not belong of this world."

"How did he find out?"

"Through his own reasoning, Roland. That is how intelligent he is."

"Jeez," Roland sighed. "Can he be trusted?"

"Yes," Henderson nodded, "Completely. He's not superstitious like most of the people in this land, doesn't think we are witches because we have a different education then the rest of them."

Henderson's mouth curled into a loud and sleepily yawn. "I suppose that is my cue to leave?" Roland smiled.

"Yes I suppose it is," Henderson smiled, fond of Roland but even then a busy lord needed his sleep. "Thanks again for freeing Francis before the Khanate got a hold of him."

"Am I ever getting paid for all of this?" Roland jeered, picking up the letters from Sonadel.

"I've let my servants working at our bathhouse to keep an eye out for you, and let you in for free?"

"Gee, you really like to reward your friends," Roland sneered mockingly.

"I'll reward later for this, you know I am good for it." The count smiled back, "But anyone would consider it a reward to get in to a luxurious place with it doing so poor for free."

"The bathhouse doing that bad?"

"Like a black hole for money," Henderson sighed sadly, "Hardly anyone has visited it, for a month now. I'm starting to regret putting as much funding as I did."

"No one said it wasn't a risk," Roland comment.

"No, but no one warned me of local superstitions either."

Roland laughed, enjoying one of the few times Henderson was not prepared for.

"I might take you up on that offer," Roland smiled suddenly feeling a kink in his neck.

"Good," smiled Henderson, "Let the rest of the Wolves they can go as well for free… at first."

"I will," Nodded Roland, "Could you let Haydee know that I went back to the inn."

"Sure," Henderson nodded. "I'll let her know."

"Thanks," Roland said waving a farewell to Henderson. "Good night."

"Night," Henderson called after him as Roland left Henderson's chambers.

As soon as Roland left the room, he felt his mind go numb with weariness. The hour and the grand feast were taking their toll on the young man. He needed to get back to the inn, before he collapsed into a coma.

Roland barely remembered the walk from the castle to the end on the far side of town, but when he arrived to the inn, he felt a surge of energy rush him upon the sight of his men. They were hardly finished celebrating their good fortune, nor ready for rest just yet. Roland was surprised to see nearly every one of his troops, apart from the few light belt drinkers, were still on their feet, shakily however.

'Thought the inn would have run out of ale by now,' Roland marvelled to himself.

Not wanting to be drawn into the celebrations, Roland ducked his head low, pushed his way through the crowds, and prayed. Apparently tonight the ears of heaven were listening, and he was able to sneak by the crowds to the staircase and up to his room without anyone of his own troop recognizing him, or drawing attention to him.

Quickly he jogged up the stairs and ducked into his room and safety. Settling into his bed for the night, Roland suddenly felt a surge of energy, a second wind. "Dammit," he groaned aloud, eager to rest but unable to at the moment.

He turned over to spot Sonadel's letters on the foot of the bed where he left them. Deciding he would be saving time reading them now instead of tomorrow, where no doubt he would be spending his time cleaning the mess the Wolves were currently making in the inn below.

He decided to read the most recent one he could find, and go from there. The majority of the letters were a collection of gobbledygook giving the illusion to a noisy messenger or her father that they had written a long and elaborate love letter to each. But Roland noticed something as well, the closer the letters came to the present, the more personal the letters became: from the mere mention of trivial affairs, random event that happened around the castle or the local court, to some personal requests, and sharing some of her fears.

Apparently Sonadel's father was very keen on meeting him in person, and was almost demanding her to request him to come. The charade had worked, too well unfortunately, and now Sonadel's father was beginning to encourage more and more. If they stopped now, her father might throw a fit, all before she was even fit to compete in a different tournament, making this would-be fake courtship be for nothing.

The final letter, was one of concern, mostly because of the delay with Roland's letters, and Sonadel was worried Roland was not playing along anymore. In truth he had forgotten all about her, like he did with Perry, and felt a large pang of guilt for leaving her on the fence like this. He would write to her tonight, and send the letter right away in the morning, the sooner the better.

He yawned aloud, and felt sleep begin to take his mind again. He guessed it could wait until morning, anything he wrote this tried would seemed far more gobbledygook then what they had been sending each other before. Brushing the letters aside, he lowered his head onto his bed, shut his eyes and fell asleep instantly; vaguely aware that his affair with Asugan Castle, and all the extra drama that came with it, was over. 'At least the biggest issues,' he thought.

End Notes-

Good and Bad News.

First off, I just want to let you all know that while this has been fun writing the story, I am taking a little break from writing the "Warband of Wolves." It's not because I am tired of writing it, but for other reasons. First off, I would like to finish up my other two fanfics, my Borderlands 2 one and the FTL one that I have not touched in a couple fortnights. Secondly, I need time to think about where I am going with this story, it's not so much the end point I an struggling with but how I get there and what do I want to happen along the way that I need to workout.

HOWEVER, that was the bad news, and here is the good, I am not going to give up the story with Roland and the rest of the Wolves. While I am not going to touch the Warband of Wolves storyline, I plan to start a sort of non-canon story with them: The Warband of Wolves: The Inquisition. (Not to be confused with the new Dragon Age game that is coming out). It will be hopefully less then ten chapters long and a nice distraction from the main story. It should be up with this chapter, hopefully.

Longest Chapter Ever!

This chapter is officially the longest piece of literature I have every written! 13,658 words! (Not including the time I left my finger on a key and wound up writing about fifty pages of ";;;;;" while watching a TV show. Took awhile to clean up).

Cheers,

Indogma.