"Where is the protection for those that need it most?"

He'd left Camelot not an hour past, a rage so deep burning within him he knew he had to leave before he lost his temper and did something irrevocable. So he kissed his wife and with Skye's scent still filling his nostrils he'd mounted his horse and ridden north, looking to find release from anger Danica's question had called up.

It was a full moon, and snow had fallen earlier that day.For the long miles he and Horse were kept company only by their own dark reflections along the top of the snow. "Let me find some," he begged the Night, for he would not beg the gods; how could he beg from those he would not acknowledge? Then he realized he need not beg, that he would find that which he most needed at this time.

Hadn't he always found combat?

Ten years schooling from the best his father could find, another twenty after that in the life of a mercenary, always learning, refining his skills, living by the sword, living on the edge. And even after, when he'd come to Camelot and found a better way of life, still he found the time to step the dance of death.

And yet..

It was not the same. There were people he loved and respected, and a Code of life he had taken as his own and so he had changed. Or perhaps he had matured. Whatever it was, what had once been instinct was now calculated, governed by love and honor, and always by the Code. There was no room for rage in it.

Most of the time.

"Where is the protection for those that need it most?"

Danica's voice again. There was that, aye, the children of the villages who Talor and Zephyr had stolen from their families. Ian had thought of simply using the power that was his and just blasting the sorcerer out of the mountain caverns, but of course that would most likely cause the children to be killed. And there was the balance, always the balance to be maintained, for Talor, if he could, would have retaliated with greater power and a cycle would begin that... would leave no victor standing whole in the end.

Now there was more to consider: the attempt on the sons of Hawke and Xan, and Hawke's disappearance as well.

And an angry woman standing in the firehall asking her questions.

So he had at last given in to his fury, and ridden out, and now Ian came to a halt on a ridgetop facing north. He knew Talor's men were still raiding, and the small clearing below led to one of the fords of the river beyond the trees at the far end. He sat and waited. In a few minute's time, sure enough, a party of mercenaries emerged below. He drew his sword, the moonlight running along the steel like cold fire. Kicking his heels into Horse, charged down upon them. He didn't know how many there were: six, ten? Truth be told, he did not care. In the end, it would not matter.

Headlong ride down the hill, shadows on the snow ahead, steam streaming back from Horse's mouth and nose. A burning sensation on Ian's cheek as an arrow grazed his face, and then the shock of steel on steel as blades and shields collided. Leaning low with his sword drawn back and then sweeping it around to strike at an upturned face, and then another, and another. Then he was through their ranks and turning Horse back, command given through knee pressure, and back through again. A sting in his left leg as a merc's blade came through under his shield. Another turn.. Another... Another.

Until there was no one left to fight.

He sat there looking at bodies crumpled in the snow, the white stained by dark blood. Then he turned Horse to ride to yet another place where he might lie in wait. But as he did, a woman stepped out of the moonlight and shook her head.

"Go home, Iannonvethallion. Go home to your wife and children." The Goddess blocked his way. "Enough!"

"And why should I listen to you?"

"Because," she said, "where is the protection for those that need it most?"

He stared at her for long moments, then with a nod turned and headed for home. There were children to rescue, children to protect. He stopped only once, to clean his blade of blood by rubbing it with snow, then drying it. As he sheathed it, a reflection flashed in the night...

Moonlight on steel.

11/2000


Blood Stones VI

The Great Hall had fallen mainly quiet for the eve when Ian Blackthorn saw the big man make his way to a table and sit. Hans certainly had nerve, Ian had to give him credit for that. It would take an audacious man to walk calmly into the castle of the kingdom he had been raiding the past few months and just order an ale. That, or the knowledge that he held some surety of a safe passage out. Ian considered what that unknown surety might be, given recent events. There was only one sure way to find out.

Ian excused himself from speaking with a woman who had found her way to Camelot by mischance, and approached the barrel-chested mercenary's table. Han's leathers were worn and patched, but other than that did not look much the worse for wear despite the relentless raids from Ian's troops that he and the rest of Zephyr's men had faced over the last month. Ian stopped on the other side of the table and nodded.

"Good eve, Hans. And have you lost your way as well?" Ian noticed Kyrie moving closer as he smiled coolly at the intruder. He didn't think Hans wanted to start trouble; he'd shifted his sword in such a way when he sat that he could not have drawn the blade quickly, anyway. Instead the big man sipped his ale and gave Ian an arrogant smile.

"Aw, little man, we meet again!" He chuckled. "Me? Never, I always know what and where I am. I see your ranks are thinning a bit. Troubles?"

"No, we've other things to consider besides a ragtag band of mercenaries."

Hans wiped at his lips with the back of one his huge hands and leered. "Why, maybe it is we who are winning and you who has lost."

Ian hooked his thumbs casually in his sword belt. He was inwardly amused. Hans might try to bait him but Blackthorn had played this game before. He'd not let the taunts of a demon sway him; he was not about to let a mercenary goad him into anger either. He looked pointedly at Han's damaged gear and shook his head. "We are not losing. What are you doing here, Hans?"

"Oh, I see, you are winning. But the Hall is obviously short of warriors." He took another sip from his tankard.

"They are busy, out in the field."

Hans took a slow glance towards the window. "True. From what I've seen, they are buried out in the field. Good tactic!"

Ian smiled coldly. "Enjoy your dream, Hans. Drink up"

"Tell me, Captain," the sell-sword turned back to look at Ian with mocking eyes, "what sort of leader sits in the Hall while his men are dying out in the field?"

"Is that the best you can do, Hans? We both know I have been out there and will be again." Ian wondered if Zephyr had yet discovered that it was Blackthorn himself who had committed the raid on the village where the mercenaries were quartered. If his leader had, Hans seemed in no hurry to admit it, instead pressing on with his mockery.

"Ah yes, I forgot, you are only a part time commander, only near danger when it is safe. How foolish of me to forget."

"You bore me, Hans." Ian let a note of disinterest creep into his tone. "Your attempts are transparent."

"Ah! Well, I have a message for you, that is if you can remember it after spending your night here swilling drinks."

"Oh I will remember it; all of it!" And he would too. There was a reckoning to come with this mercenary. "And try to speak without drooling all over your lips."

"You know a knight named Tav?"

Ian's heart sank. Here was Hans' edge. "Yes. What of it?"

"Tell your leader his sneak attack failed and if he wants to see Tav and his men again he will withdraw his men immediately back to this side of the river."

Despair was quickly replaced by hope. Han's words were of more import than the hulking warrior could possibly know. Talor and Zephyr had sent a message to Blackhawke.

"He has one day to withdraw or the executions of the spies begin."

"I'll pass the word along. And how do we know they won't still be executed?"

"You don't. But if you don't act immediately, their deaths are guaranteed." Hans stood, then gestured to Lumiere as he headed confidentially for the door. "An ale to comfort the Captain." He laughed as he exited the Hall.

Ian motioned Lumiere off and then turned as Kyrie came up to his side.

"You should have run him through." she said with a sweet smile.

He grinned. "I'd be not better than he then. Besides, Hans has helped by giving me a piece of information. They've sent a message for Blackhawke. That means Talor did not take him, but more importantly, this tells us that he and his mercenaries do not know Hawke is missing. As bad as this looks for Tav, we will be able to gain some time to find Blackhawke by giving into their demands for the moment." He motioned a guard over. "Find Marcus. Tell him to send orders out to fall back to this side of the river. Bulwarks and trenches are to be set up on our side as soon as the retreat is complete."

He turned to grab pen and parchment to send news of this to Xan. While they still did not know where Blackhawke was, at least they now knew one place he most definitely was not. That was a start.

As for Hans and Zephyr, Ian repeated to himself once again the promise that they would pay for abducting innocent children to serve Talor's needs.

There would most definitely come a reckoning.

12/2000


Blood Stones VII

"How could anything so beautiful be the cause of so much pain and grief?"

Ian looked at the jewels lying on the table before him, then out at the Hall. He'd spoken the thought aloud, but none were present at the moment to hear it. That, he decided, was just as well, reaching for the knife to move the bloodstones closer together on the cloth. Carefully avoiding touching the gems with bare skin, he picked up the corners of the cloth and tied the whole thing into a bundle, then using the ends of the knot lifted them and lowered the stones cloth and all into a leather bag. He tied the strings on the pouch firmly, then sat and stared at it quietly.

The old man who had brought them to Camelot was now supposedly imprisoned in one crystal with his family and friends. Ian had been unable to prevent it, and in truth, the man had seemed eager to join his loved ones. "I hope you are happy, wherever you are. It would be nice to think there is even a small bit of cheer in this damnable mess." He scowled as he looked up at the map on the wall of his office. The withdrawal from Talor's side of the river was complete; pins marked the location of Ashley's and Alodar's troops just on this side, and another set far off on the edge showed where Corwin's troops were patrolling the adjoining northern border of his lands. In other words, it was a stalemate. The Camelot forces could not advance because Tav and his group were hostage, but neither could Zephyr's men get by the defences of the massed troops. There, for the moment, matters stood, and as much as Ian hated being stymied like this, he had to admit that it was the best possible event to have occurred under the circumstances. At least until they found out where Blackhawke had disappeared to.

He stood and took hold of the bag, then walked out and crossed the Great Hall and returned the bloodstones to their hiding place. For now these were safe. The sun was nearly set he saw, looking out the nearby window and shading his eyes as the last rays made the light snow outside shine like gold. He had a few pieces of paperwork to go over before joining Skye and the children for dinner, so he turned back for his office.

And stopped.

Gold.

The old man coughed, his gaze darting around the room as he seemed to fade away. "There must be some way to stop this! I can ward you!" Ian said. The old man just shook his head. "Legend says…only when… gold stone touches… blood tears." Ian kept trying to learn more, but the man was literally fading away as his being was absorbed by the stones, his words faint and nearly incoherent. All Ian could piece together was there was a magic mountain to the north with deep, warm caves. When he repeated this, the man nodded, then added: "Golden phoenix, cage, three moons." After another fit of coughing, as his skin seemed to fade in a reddish light, his final words were "Talor…phoenix…dies…"

Then he was gone.

"I am an idiot." Ian's voice echoed off the rafters and Lumiere paused in his cleaning to debate whether he should nod in agreement. Over in the corner Chamberlain looked up from some ledger and blinked. The movement caught Ian's eye and he walked quickly over to the desk. "Chamberlain, please have the librarian fetch any information we may have over phoenixes, golden stones, bloodstones, magic mountains and thermal caves."

Unflappable as ever, the Chamberlain nodded. "At once, sir!" He hurried off to rouse the librarian as Ian motioned a guard over.

"Go to Blackhawke Castle and tell Lady Xan I would like to see the plans and maps milord Hawke had been consulting in the Talor matter." The guard saluted and ran off as Ian paced the Hall. He'd overlooked the last words of the old man, and there had been some confusion over the word "phoenix", whether it referred to Taralon or a true phoenix. In the struggle to repel the mercenaries, the events of that night had been pushed aside and nearly forgotten. In fact, it seemed to Ian, a lot of things had happened all at once. Some might have written it off to coincidence, but that was something a warrior never counted on.

Something smelled rotten about all this. And he was going to find out what it was.

12/2000


Blood Stones VIII

"Are you going to sit there staring at those plans all day or are you going to do something?"

Ian shot a withering stare across the desk at his second-in-command. Not that it had any effect on Marcus; he just shook his head and laughed. Here, in the barracks office, the usual formality of the chain of command was dropped in favor of the easy familiarity of two men who'd fought beside each other for close to twenty years now. Any of the Black Watch would have stood jaws open in disbelief at Marcus' manner in here. "Ian, either go in there to find Merlin's quarters or set it aside for now. This fretting of yours serves no purpose."

"I know, I know. I think there might be an answer to this whole mess in the abandoned wing, and then a minute later, I think it would be a major waste of time. Even more so with the situation with Zephyr." He tossed the ancient construction plans for Camelot on the table and rubbed at his eyes. "Are they showing any signs of an advance?"

"Nothing big yet. Our men did as ordered. There's earthworks thrown up at several points by the passable fords. If they work as planned, the mercs will be funnelled towards the gaps we provide and easy prey for Lady Skye's archers. Lord Ashley and Sir Charlemagne's units hold them at present, with Alodar and your brother guarding the other lengths of the border. Evan is running patrols in the forests to catch any small parties."

"Any word from Tav?"

"None. Any word on Lord Blackhawke?"

Ian shook his head. "Lady Hawke has not returned as yet. I'm hoping her Lady might have been of help in finding milord." He tapped the desktop idly with his fingers as he thought for a moment. Then he stood up and walked over to look at the map on the wall showing the front that stretched along the length of the northern river. "We can't hope to keep Talor and Zephyr fooled indefinitely. They are going to figure it out that no one has seen Blackhawke around either castle of late. I want the Watch on the river on high alert, and in rotation with the men here. Two days on at the river, one off in the barracks but ready to ride. All taverns are off limits until my further orders. And send a rider to Sir James with my compliments and my request we be informed as soon as Lady Xan returns or any news of Blackhawke is heard."

"Anything else?" Marcus looked at Ian, but his commander suddenly grinned.

"Aye. Well, not until Xan returns, at any rate. But perhaps we can confuse Zephyr and his men a bit if she agrees to something I just thought about." He waved Marcus on, then leaned back in his chair.

Marcus grinned himself for a second. He'd seen that look on Blackthorn's face before, and whatever the plan was, he was sure it was one the mercenaries would not like.

12/2000