I'm very sorry that the last chapter was so…um…wacky. Lerant came because he's Lord Raoul's standard bearer and Owen's friend although I'm going to kill him off fairly quickly. The King and Queen came because it was wacky.

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The road to Tusaine was hard: the cobbles had been trampled by hooves so much in some places that the stones had been completely upturned. On the third day they saw an orange glow in the distance. They soon realized it was something burning, something big. Half a mile away from whatever was burning, Owen stopped them all and pointed at the roadside. A battered old sign lay there, hacked down, it would seem, by an axe.

"Huttonsfield," Dom read from the sign. "This must have been a village."

"Hey listen," exclaimed Lerant, who had remained silent for most of the journey so far.

"Listen to what?" asked Kel.

"That!"

"I can't hear anything," complained Dom.

"Hush," said Kel quietly, for she, too, could now hear it.

"It sounds like…singing!" exclaimed Owen as though struck down by enlightenment.

"Not very jolly, is it?"

Soon they were all quiet. The voice was female and faint but quite clear over the hills. It was the most beautiful and amazing thing any of them had ever heard; it was also the saddest.

Here is the axe that broke the stone

Upon the stone I sit alone

A stony throne for kings of bone

We kings of bone, we died alone

Seven of us died alone.

Here I wait for salvation's king

To free me and my lonely kin

Surrounded by my loyal men

Yet all alone I wait on my throne

Waiting for salvation's king.

The song had been sung slowly so it had lasted at least ten minutes, and for all that time, and five minutes after, none of them moved or spoke or even breathed. Then Owen piped up a remark.

"But if this woman is dead…how can she sing?"

Whatever the answer was they all knew it was not going to be pleasant so they fervently avoided talking about it, or anything else for that matter, until they reached the village. Most of the fire in the village had gone out now but all the intact wood was still hot to touch.

"Split up and search the area," Kel instructed to the small group. Owen searched the walls and gate house, Kel, the shops, Dom, the houses and Lerant searched the almost completely intact village hall.

Lerant stumbled through to where the singing was coming from, still repeating those two same verses. At the back of the hall was a throne made of granite. All around it were strewn odd lumps. It was split through the middle as though cleaved with a giant axe. On the throne was a ragged looking woman. Lerant soon realised it was she who was singing. He slowly approached the throne. One step, he realised that there was an emerald embedded in the head of the chair, so finely crafted he felt as though he was looking at something ancient and forbidden. Perhaps because he was.

The room was very dark; all the lanterns had been knocked to the floor. Three steps and he worked out, with no small amount of horror, that the twisted lumps on the floor were corpses.

Five steps and he saw that the woman's eyes where closed and that her mouth was moving in a strange way, almost automatically like a puppet being forced to dance by a morbid puppeteer.

Ten steps and he realized the woman was dead.

Despite his fright he continued to walk towards the throne. He reached his arm out towards the woman's face, his fingertips only an inch away…when the woman's eyes shot open! They were as red as rubies and as hateful as a wild boar's.

Lerant screamed and tried to drag out his sword but it was stuck. The corpse reached out a claw-like hand and grabbed Lerant's face. He tried to rip the hand off but it had the strength of a demon. After a minute wrestling with the hand, Lerant fell to the floor, his eyes misted over, and closed for the last time.

The monstrosity grinned, closed its eyes and began to sing again.

Well, I didn't intend to kill Lerant so soon but someone had to die so it was him. How did you like the poem? I thought it was quite good and I definitely think this is the best chapter yet.