In The Beginning, Gail Daley [red white royal blue .TXT] 📗

The Station master and his family had packed up everything of value and abandoned the station the day before the Shahen arrived. They were now safely installed at the hidden farmhouse just inside the Wards.

It was obvious to the watchers their unwelcome visitors were expecting a reaction of some type from Ironlyn; anyone who passed near the road leading to the Keep glanced up warily at the silent cliffs and the massive closed doors.

"How long do you intend to let them stew?" Logan inquired.

"We will wait until they have finished setting up camp before we send our messenger birds," Lewys said. He was playing with one of Owen's avatars, idly running a finger down it's carved and painted back.

"Wish I could stay and watch, but I need to get out to the Lookout over the harbor," he said. He kissed Mikel on a chubby cheek as he left. "Take good care of my boy, for me," he told Catrin.

"Take care of yourself!" she retorted. "He needs you alive, not a dead hero!"

Shahen Rupert had expected, if not a warm welcome, at least an acknowledgement of his royal presence when he arrived outside Ironlyn's gates. Instead, there was no activity from there at all and it irritated him.

"Do they even know we have arrived?" Baron Rutledge, Drake of Glassfell asked when the council called by the Shahen convened. All around them, the bustle of camp being set up and the evening meal cooked was taking place.

"How could they not?" inquired another of the Shahen's nobles.

"See if you can find the Trade Master," General Rojas, the ranking officer in the Shahen's troops suggested. "Perhaps he knows what is going on."

"He is gone," reported one of the squires who had gone to the Station House. "We searched his family quarters and they are empty. There is one man asleep in one of the Inn rooms, but I couldn't rouse him. The rest of the rooms are empty. The medic says the sleeping man has been drugged. It will probably be morning before he wakes."

"Am I expected to knock on the door like a visitor?" Rupert demanded, ignoring the report, his handsome face set in a scowl.

"Certainly not," said one of the other nobles. "It would be beneath your dignity. This is an affront and an insult, Sire. It should be punished."

Rupert had his mouth open for a furious response when the evening bustle of camp was broken by the thunder of large bird wings. Three messenger birds, larger than any ever seen before, flew over the camp. Two of them dropped rolled scrolls to all the men gathered. The third landed before the Shahen with a scroll in his beak, which he thrust at him.

The Shahen grabbed it before it could fall. "What is this?" he demanded.

"Ironlyn greets you, Shahen Rupert," the bird croaked. "How may we serve you?"

"You can open your gates and let your sovereign inside," Rupert answered, his voice quivering with temper.

"My apologies," the bird replied. "We cannot do that while we are unsure of your intentions."

"It is not up to you to question my intentions," Rupert snapped. The crackle of the paper in his hand drew his attention. "What is this?" he demanded.

"It is an offer from the kingdom of Jacite to the free Magi of Askela. The offer frees the magi of Askela from the tyranny of the Proctors. It is being circulated all over the kingdom," the bird replied. "The offer says if the Magi join him in his war against Askela, he will ensure no more Magi families will be torn apart. No Magi women and girls will be used as breeders and the Proctors will be disbanded and punished. The Magi are loyal to Askela. They would prefer not to be a part of a rebellion, but the laws concerning Magi are intolerable and must be changed. If you will agree to do the things promised by the Jacite King, of course his offer will be refused with thanks. I cannot answer for the response of Askela's Magi otherwise. Ironlyn has always been a refuge for those seeking shelter from the Proctors' excesses and abuses. We will continue to remain so. I am sorry, but we cannot allow you inside our gates until we have your promise to change the Magi laws."

"Traitor!" the Shahen shrieked. "I demand you open the gates and surrender to me, or I will tear Ironlyn apart and hang you for high treason!"

The messenger bird bowed and lifted off into the sky. "Kill it!" Rupert was practically frothing at the mouth.

Several arrows shot skyward, but passed harmlessly through the great birds, which of course had not been birds at all.

Death Of A Traitor

FURIOUS AT THE DEFIANCE from inside Ironlyn, the Shahen kept his council and Proctors up half the night planning an attack to reduce it.

"You are sure you have control of the Ley Lines?" Rupert asked the Proctors.

"Yes, Sire," Sandman, the most senior of them answered. "We have been trained to go into battle. From all accounts, the Mabinogions have spent the last twenty years traveling around the country. They can have no real experience in fighting a Magi battle."

He looked at Rojas, who spoke up. "My contacts in the Merc's told me although they have hired a few fighters, there is no more than thirty or so Mercs inside. If your Proctors can get my men inside, we can take them easily."

"We will need a few days to examine the nature of the defensive wards to find a weakness," Sandman said. "But we should be ready by the day after tomorrow."

The morning after the Shahen's forces arrived at the Trade Station, Serle woke up feeling groggy, to discover he was alone in the Inn. The Trade Master had taken his family and his birds and disappeared. There had been no other guests for some time as the word had gone out to avoid Ironlyn. Any caravans traveling toward the border had taken other routes. From the cottony