A shadow came over Beau as he was waking. The figure had hands on him, trying to pull him up. Someone was taking him away. His enemies found him, and it was all over. He began to scream.

"Stop it, you fool," Gavin growled. “It's Gavin. It’s Gavin! get up." Beau blinked several times, trying to adjust his sight. The fire had burned down to smoldering embers. Beau looked to his right to see Nisila and Julius waking just as confused as he was.

"We cannot stay here any longer," Gavin said. "It is long past time we left. Now get yourselves together."

"But it's still dark," Beau said.

"It is the early hours of a new day," Gavin replied. "Enough talk. Nisila, get up." Nisila struggled to sit up, her face pale and strained. She sat for a moment with her head down, breathing heavily. Beau watched her closely, not liking the defeated way she was sitting. She needed to rest, but there was no time or place for that in these woods.

Shadow-cry entered the campsite in a flurry, landing directly before Nisila. He hopped over and dropped her purse on the ground. She looked at Gavin as she picked it up and tied it onto her belt. Gavin sneered at her and the raven before turning away in disgust.

Beau sized up the massive raven as it flapped its wings before flying off. The raven was extremely smart, that was obvious. It gave him some measure of comfort to know Shadow-cry was flying about, serving as their guardian in the sky. They would need more than an alarm if his enemies were to come upon them again. He looked at Nisila skeptically. She was not fit to fight if they were to encounter the men searching for them.

Nisila must have felt his eyes on her. "I am fine, my prince. Let us rise and begin our journey. We have a long road ahead of us." Gavin helped her to her feet, but he was not gentle about it. He hoisted her arm over his broad shoulders, and they began. Julius and Beau walked side by side, following the looming shadows before them. The woods were a strange hue of blue and black. The sound of the trees echoed all around them as if they whispered about them as they passed through.

Beau worried that they would not be able to tell the difference between enemies approaching and the natural sounds of the forest. How could they avoid walking into an ambush if they had no way of detecting the enemies around them? His eyes darted from shadow to shadow, spying every branch and wild plant that dared move. Enemies could be hiding anywhere within the woods, and they would never know it. He thought he would go mad before reaching Morris Port.

On and on they went, walking like ghosts through a graveyard of trees. All the land around them was a mix of black trunks, green winter shrubs, and a light dusting of snow from a flurry that passed overnight while they slept. Beau did not think he would find sleep, but the fear and anxiety he experienced the previous night was more exhausting than he anticipated. He could hardly believe everything that had happened.

It felt like a scary story he heard, not an experience he went through first hand. His thoughts went to his uncle Milton and scholar Corin. He wondered if they were safe, or in as much danger as they were. He hoped that they were looking for him and Julius and that they would locate them soon. They were the only family he had and he did not think they would make it to the Middle Islands without them.

Slowly the dark gave way to the morning sun, and the shadows began to fade. They traveled within a valley surrounded by rugged hills lined with tall, thin limbed trees that remain green throughout the deep winter months. As Beau walked in silence, Julius poked him in his side. Julius nodded up, and Beau saw Shadow-cry perched on a tree branch a few yards ahead of them.

"He has been following us the entire time," Beau said.

"He is smart enough to warn us if danger approaches," Julius replied, and at that the bird took off, disappearing among the treetops.

"I am so hungry I could eat an entire cow," Beau sighed.

"And thirsty," Julius added. "Maybe we should ask Nisila."

Looking at the way Nisila leaned on Gavin, and remembering how sickly she looked, Beau did not feel comfortable asking her for anything. "I don't want to bother her. Besides, Gavin would likely just become angry again and tell us to be quiet. Might be best we wait until they stop."

"My father will deal with him," Julius brooded. "He will pay for striking me." Looking at the big man before them, Beau thought about it. Gavin was a brute, but they were safer with him around. If he did get them to Morris Port, it would be a feat worth rewarding. In a fight, he was not confident that his uncle would be any challenge to Gavin. The man was big and strong, with a mean spirit. Beau knew he was capable of great violence. Gavin had killed at least two men that he knew of in one night. He feared what would become of his uncle if the two were to fight. Maybe it was better to resolve the issue peacefully. Pay Gavin what he asked, and move on. Corin had taught him a while back that it was worth paying for specific problems to go away if they would prove to be a more significant nuisance later on.

He wished he could make his enemies disappear with gold, but Beau never held any wealth of his own, so it was a foolish notion. The title of prince meant nothing, and it had never made his life any better or worse. He did not think the men looking for him cared about his claim. It was an idea; an agreed-upon thought that not everyone accepted. At the end of it all, he was simply Beaumont, a little boy from a village in the mountains. Moreover, the men looking for him were doing their duty, and nothing more.

Nisila would have him believe he was much more than that. He was finding it hard to believe he could one day be king. If last night were any indication of what it meant to be a king, he wanted the throne to remain as far away as possible.

As the morning dragged on a flurry of snow began to fall. There was no sign of Shadow-cry, and the woods about them seemed devoid of all life. Beau heard no birds and saw no animals, and many miles lay between them and Morris Port. He assumed walking would take nearly three or four days, from what Corin mentioned at their meetings. With Nisila hurt, it would likely be longer. The food concerned him, and he hoped they had enough. The snow and cold were terrible enough, but if he had to go the entire way with even less to eat, he did not know if he would make it.

The men searching for them had horses, and they were determined. The ambush in the forest was brutal, and his attackers fought desperately. Beau could not fathom being in the clutches of such men, and the thought gnawed at the little courage he had. He looked up to see Gavin and Nisila a few feet ahead, limping slowly along. The loose soil and snow fell away beneath their feet as their path began to lead down a hill. Nisila turned around, and she made eye contact with Beau. She winked at him and smiled feebly. She was genuinely trying her best, but Beau could see she was struggling.

If anything happened to her, there would be no one to protect them from Gavin. Beau did not trust that Gavin would return them safely to his uncle and he was greatly disturbed by the prospect. Gavin expressed his urge to leave them behind, and Beau expected he would run off at the first sign of danger. So far Nisila seemed to keep him in line, he respected her. If she was able to keep him honest, they might just make it to Morris Port.

As he looked on, he noticed Nisila and Gavin were speaking quietly to one another. He was too far behind to make out what they were saying. He assumed they were discussing the journey ahead and the safest way to reach Morris Port. From his teachings, having a plan was necessary, so he was glad that they were working together.

* * *

Nisila felt sick from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She was hot and cold all at the same time. Gavin carried most of her weight, but he was tall, and the effort of reaching up over his shoulder was excruciating. She could not stand herself upright. Even if she made it through this current challenge, Nisila knew she would never be the same.

Gavin's attitude was grim. Nisila began to think the man was losing hope, or maybe he had never really had any at all. As they trudged slowly through the forest, she could feel he was upset. His mood sent a flutter of anxiety through her breast, and she knew it was unwise to let him simmer to himself. She had to distract him from any negative thoughts running through his mind.

If Gavin changed his mind or panicked, Prince Beaumont would lose any chance of making it out of Mount Hope alive. Nisila needed to get him to care, or at least stop him from finding a way out of his promise. Gold could keep a man honest for only so long. Once the blades started singing and the arrows began flying, he could quickly abandon them.

Nisila glanced back at Beau and Julius. They were far enough behind for her to speak to Gavin in privacy. "What happened in the holdfast. What truly became of Milton and Corin."

Gavin blinked a few times as if coming out of a dream. He sighed and responded softly. "I saw Milton fall. They killed him in the yard after speaking at length to a man. I assumed that the same man gave the order. He looked like the one in charge."

"And Corin," Nisila whispered back. "What of him? Did they execute him as well."

Gavin looked her in her eyes. "I am sure he is dead as well."

"I liked Corin," Nisila said sadly. "He was a good person. He had affection toward the prince. I think Beau needed him. It will be difficult when he finally finds out."

Gavin snorted. "And when will that be?" Nisila ignored the question. She was still unsure how she felt about the lie. At the time it was too dangerous to tell the boys the truth, it would have jeopardized everything. Her only concern was Beaumont, but she knew that without Julius, he would never follow her. If Julius knew the truth of his father's death, there was no telling what the boy would have done. Would she have it in her to stop Julius from putting her and the prince at risk?

Nisila shuddered at the idea of having to make such a choice. She did not want to think of hurting him. She tried to convince herself that lying to them was the right thing to do. She had no other choice. She quickly came back to Gavin because she had to keep him talking. They needed to establish a bond, something more than the promise of gold was required to secure Beaumont's safety. If anything happened to her, she knew that Gavin would be Prince Beaumont's only hope. The man had come this far, and he fought bravely in the woods. He had a measure of honor within him, but he fought against it. She had to find it and bring it forth.

"You think I was wrong for lying to them?" Nisila asked.

Gavin scoffed. "What do I care? As long as it shuts them up, lie away. Though it makes one wonder what happens when we get to Morris Port, and the boy realizes his father is not there.”

He was expecting to reach Morris Port and Nisila took that as a good sign. "I have not thought that far ahead. I approach things one step at a time."

"Better to keep your lies in order, I suppose," Gavin replied.

"You judge me like you are not guilty of ever lying," Nisila said. "Prince Beaumont is important to many people. He is my countries last hope for normalcy and a return to peace. I would do whatever it takes to save him."

"Yes, I see that," Gavin said. "But does that include silencing voices that advise against your plans?" She knew he was speaking of Julius, but she decided not to answer. She turned back and gave Beau a supportive wink, making sure they were still far enough away. She did not want to get into an argument with Gavin, that was not her aim.

Gavin did not care for Beaumont or anyone for that matter. The man was aloof and disconnected from the world, carrying himself like a lone soldier only following orders and living one day at a time. How could she instill a higher purpose into a cynical person, in such little time? They had gone silent again, the one thing she wanted to avoid.

To her surprise, Gavin was the one who initiated the conversation again. "The man who spoke to Milton, he had a patch over his eye. Do you know him?"

It was not the subject she wanted to speak of, but now it was unavoidable. Thinking of Royce made her skin crawl, and her anger simmer. At least Gavin was willing to talk, and Royce was a man he should know. He had to understand who was hunting them.

"I should have known once I encountered Rudan he would not be far behind," Nisila said. "He is one of Rancine's lapdogs. After the murder of King Bohemond he joined Rancine. His name is Royce."

"Sounds like a survivor to me," Gavin replied.

"He is not a survivor," Nisila hissed. "He is a coward and a traitor. He was an officer, and he fought side by side with Denali. When the war began to go bad, he switched sides. Denali never lost faith. He fought for his country to the end. Royce, that sniveling coward, captured Denali and killed him."

"Did he switch so easily?" Gavin asked. "Maybe he had no choice. Maybe he thought resistance was foolhardy."

"He gave up that eye for Rancine," Nisila said. "He made a blood pact with the warlocks. He chose evil, plain, and simple. He is a gutless beast."

Gavin only shook his head. "It is never that simple. We like to think it is, but everyone has a motivation, and nothing is greater than self-preservation." Nisila wondered at the man beside her. He was siding with her enemy, a person she detested more than anyone or anything in the world. Maybe she was wrong about him after all.

She feared that if the conversation continued in this fashion, she would only alienate him more. His words gave her pause to think for a moment. Maybe finding his motivation was the key. She sensed he was holding back his true feelings, and she decided to trust her gut. She had to see past her blinding rage toward Royce.

Gavin was a hard man, a man who might have cared once, but had become jaded over his long years of war and fighting. It was a story she was familiar with, and she knew many warriors like him. Men who held strong values once, but after being disappointed over and over again, lost hope. They became cynical and bitter. She needed to get to the core belief that he might have once held. He was a veteran of the New Brotherhood, and like Eric, he fought alongside the Paladins. She had to try harder to reach him.

One thing was certain. Gavin decided to stay. He had an opportunity to leave them after the holdfast, but he did not. He chose on his own, and she needed to understand why. If she could discover that, then she could better ensure the safety of Prince Beaumont.

"You think I am a bad person?" She asked him. "You judge me for lying, yet you seem to think my enemy in the right for betraying his people."

"We are all bad people," Gavin replied.

"Not all of us," Nisila said. "I do what I do for the benefit of my people, not to protect my skin. There is a greater calling than self-preservation. Service to your fellow man is a noble calling."

"The man on the throne of your country," Gavin said. "He also thinks he does good for his people. He might argue that you are the one only interested in your own needs over others. It is a never-ending cycle."

"Rancine is a man from a long defeated ideology," Nisila said. "He and his people had their chance to do right but chose to use blood magic to solve their problems. The Paladins rooted out the evil that was the Deode, but they missed some of the disease, which was Rancine."

"Can you blame Rancine for wanting revenge?" Gavin asked.

"You do not understand," Nisila sighed. "There is a moral difference between the leadership of Bohemond and Rancine. One man sacrificed himself for his country, and the other sacrifices his country for himself."

"A moral difference?" Gavin scoffed. "You lied to those boys. You can interpret that in many different ways."

"I did it for Beau’s own good," Nisila replied hotly.

"I wonder how Julia would feel about that," Gavin said with a smirk.

"Julius," Nisila replied, rolling her eyes. "His name is Julius. You are impossible."

Gavin smiled as he enjoyed his joke. "Look at you, hot over words. I only tease you, woman. It is a tedious thing walking in the woods, and my mind grows bored with this conversation."

Nisila slowly raised her eyes and looked at him. His head was bald and exposed to the cold air, but that did not seem to bother him. His square-shaped beard was neat and touched with several gray hairs. She was unsure of his age, but his eyes were youthful and bright. He would be a handsome man if he carried himself differently. He might have been an attractive man in his early days.

"So you understand the importance of my quest then?" Nisila asked tentatively.

"I understand why it is important to you, yes," Gavin sighed. "I was like you once, with a feverish love of honor, with a strong belief of right and wrong. I worshipped those bloody Paladins, and I wanted to be one, but I eventually saw the truth. For all their talk and the moral reasons for ending the Deode Empire, it all came down to one thing at the end. They did it for themselves, not for me, not for the people under the oppressive Deode rule. They did it to gain more power and influence. Men are all the same, and they show their true colors eventually. Even your precious little prince."

"He will be different," Nisila said.

"No, he won't," Gavin replied flatly. "He is surrounded by death and lies. He never stood a chance." Nisila was finding it harder and harder to keep her temper, but Gavin's cynicism was infuriating. She was starting to think that her hope in him was born simply out of desperation. She was likely dying and no closer to securing Prince Beaumont's safety. She was putting all her faith in the boy's survival on a man she hardly knew — a man who had lost faith in others and had no vested interest in doing the right thing. The thought of leaving Beaumont in Gavin's care was frightening.

She became suddenly aware of a burning feeling in her stomach. Her back and legs also ached terribly. Dark thoughts began to overwhelm her mind. Beaumont would not make it, and it was because she failed him. She replayed all her decisions since the first day of her quest, and she was no longer sure of herself. Nisila lingered too long in Aiti mourning Denali. When she finally left, it was a rash decision without proper preparation. She was no longer sure what her real motivation was anymore. She thought she did it for the sake of the Middle Islands, or maybe it was revenge for the loss of the man she loved. Her goals were clear before, but not anymore.

She was wrong for lying to her prince. She flirted with the idea of telling the truth but quickly realized it would not achieve anything. He was only a young boy, scared for his life and missing his loved ones. Nisila glanced back once more and saw the prince and his cousin walking with their heads down. They were dejected and hopeless. Her coming here had done more harm than good it seemed.

Nisila did not feel like she could trust her judgment anymore. She spoke boldly to Beaumont, the boy she called the true king of the Middle Islands, but now she only saw a child. She was doing battle with doubt, and her faith was failing.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and forced the negative thoughts out of her mind. She had a duty to her people, and she had to uphold the memory of Denali.

She did not need a reason to do what was right. There were many wrongs in the world that needed fixing, but she was one woman. She could not give up to despair and allow Beaumont to be lost. The voice in her head was one of fear, and as a warrior, it was an emotion she had to subdue.

While she could still draw breath, she would fight with whatever she had left to get Beaumont back to the Middle Islands.