Chapter 2 -

     Early the next morning, Therion came down from his room, obviously well 
rested, and looked about for his companions....
     Vengar greeted Therion, "Hello!  I trust you slept well?  It appears to be
a fine day to begin our journey, wouldn't you think?  Have you seen Aeryn?"
     Therion smiled and replied "Hello Vengar.  Yes, I slept well...very well 
indeed.  It's when I get some of my best work done!  And I agree, today should 
be very pleasant...at least last night, the weather was clear and temperate all
the way to Fleivance.  I haven't seen Aeryn yet this morning...but, surely she 
will be here soon.
     At first Vengar made nothing of this, but something clicked in his mind.  
"How did he KNOW that it was clear all the way to Fleivance?" he mused 
suspiciously.  He decided to let this pass and remain vigilant.
     Therion smiled and said "Ah yes...self control."
     "And just what did the old mage mean by that?" wondered Vengar to himself.
     He sat at the table, and Sera soon came over.  Therion asked for griddle 
cakes, crisp bacon, and hot tea, which were soon delivered.  As Therion began 
his meal, he continued talking with Vengar, saying "I'm really looking forward 
to this trip.  By all accounts, Golden Dragons have powerful, subtle minds...
and can live many thousands of years.  Can you imagine the knowledge they might
have developed?  The insights?  We may find the richest treasure of all;  true 
insight!"
     Vengar responded, "It is this matter, among others, that I would like to 
discuss with you before Aeryn arrives, Therion.  I think that I made it plain 
that I feel uneasy, to use diplomatic terms, about your powers and my inability
to shield my thoughts from them.  There raises a concern about privacy, and for
most people your mind is your inner sanctuary that NO ONE can touch...except 
that you can.  I don't like that.  I want to know how I can, shall we say, 
refrain from broadcasting my thoughts so that it it less easy for someone of 
your power to read."
     Therion nodded and said "It is possible...really, anyone can achieve that.
Of course, it's been awhile since I've had a student, but I should be able to 
teach you that easily enough---certainly, it will take some practice on your 
part, some effort...but, yes we can get that done..."
     "Or, how can I tell when you are listening in?"  Vengar added.
     Therion pursed his lips and replied "That's very hard to do..."
     "Mmmm, is it?" thought Vengar.  "Or is it that the fox doesn't want to 
tell the chickens when he's in the henhouse?"  Continuing aloud, Vengar said, 
"Or at the very least, assurances from you that you will refrain from 
eavesdropping on my thoughts without my knowledge and consent.  You may find 
that Aeryn has a similar position."
     Therion frowned and said "I wish it was that easy.  I have to actively 
work at keeping the volume of other's thoughts from overwhelming me.  When 
Sera, over there, gets mad at a drunk, I hear her...when two fools get into a 
fight, planning to kill one another...I have to put up with it.  You think 
getting a full night's sleep is easy?  Hah!  Between the people who think 
they're in love on one side, the thief who was lurking in the alley below, the 
boy seeking adventure who can't sleep and is both excited and terrifed at the 
same time sleeping in the common room, and a merchant thinking of new ways to 
cheat his customers on the other side, it's like trying to rest in the middle 
of a tornado...a tornado of other people's thoughts and emotions."
     Vengar, though still suspicious, was beginning to understand how Therion's
magic worked.  The realization that there was a voluntary and an involuntary 
portion would be the keystone event in Vengar's eventual acceptance of the 
mage.
     Therion paused, then continued, "I am going to speak frankly...you have 
very strong emotions, and a lot of repressed anger.  The volume of your 
thoughts are powered by your emotions...so, in a sense, I'm going to need to 
teach you self control of a somewhat different sort than you're used to.  And, 
until I can teach you that...well, you can't expect me to keep my barriers 
against your thoughts up all the time.  Any more than I would expect you to be 
able to run 24 hours a day, day after day, with never a stop to rest."  Therion
smiled, then added, "Believe me, I'll do my best to teach you how to keep your 
thoughts private!"
     Vengar sat silently and made no outward response to Therion's words.  He 
did not like being reminded of his past.  Someday, though, he would have his 
revenge, but that was for another time.  Finally, he forced an answer.  "Then 
that would be mutually beneficial."
     Continuing, Vengar said, "And as a further note, some of my fears have 
been confirmed by your words.  I would ask you the prudence in poking around 
the mind of a Golden Dragon.  Benevolent as they may be, the possibility of a 
negative reaction would have serious detrimental effects to our well-being, to 
surely underestimate.  I would suggest discretion and restraint in this matter,
and would also ask for Aeryn's blessing prior to any mind probing of any 
dragons."
     Therion nodded and said "Mind probing?  Sure.  I never mind probe without 
good reason, and it most certainly would be unwise to force myself into a 
dragon's mind...even with the dragon's consent, it would be more dangerous than
you can imagine....but, as I say, I cannot completely eliminate my ability to 
'hear' thoughts...anymore than you can prevent your own, normal hearing.  I 
suspect, though, that Dragons are adept at controlling what they send out...and
Aeryn, if I may be so bold as to say so, reveals scarcely a whisper of her 
inner thought.
     Therion smiled and continued, "It is that quality that I first noticed 
about her.  She keeps her thoughts inside;  I can actually listen to her 
speech, and not already know what she is going to say.  It is most 
refreshing..."
     "But you seem to be in a happy mood this morning...I trust your night was 
uneventful and pleasant?  Have you already eaten?  If not, I must say that the 
griddle cakes are very nice indeed!"
     Answering the spritely, and seemingly well-satiated mage, Vengar said, 
"Yes, I have, but thank you for the recommendation.  I shall have to have them 
some day."
     As Therion was finishing his meal, two liveried guards from the Banco de 
Nacional des Respublica SA came to Therion's table.  They greeted Therion with 
considerable courtesy and produced a paper for him to sign, with ink and a 
quill...after he signed, the guards gave Therion a sturdy leather pouch.  
Therion smiled, and told them to thank Ms. Rios at the bank.
     For a brief moment, Vengar pondered the strange language of the name of 
the bank from which Therion withdrew his funds, and wondered about the 
nationality.
     Therion said to Vengar "As they say, when you go on a trip, take half as 
much baggage and twice as much money as you expect to need..."
     "This, then, is your baggage?" asked Vengar, with a wry smile crossing his
lips.  Just then, Aeryn arrived.
     Therion smiled and said, "Yes, it will suffice...and, the bank is very 
dependable about getting money to it's clients, should they need funds....and, 
Vengar, since we've had this conversation, I may as well answer your other 
questions.  The ability to travel without the impediment of the body is a great
help...you can see conditions ahead quite easily.  Yet, as with any great 
power, it can be misused.  It can be used to help...or, to commit acts of great
evil.  As for the bank, they are basd in a place called the 'Republic', located
far from here.  The politics in the Republic are odious at best...but, they 
have some of the best bank secrecy laws I have found.  They keep client's 
business secret, and they can facilitate almost any transaction anywhere."
     Aeryn stepped into the common room of the Dragon's Inn just in time to 
overhear the last of her companions' conversation.  She pulled up a chair and 
sat down at their table, greeting them both with a smile.  "We can leave 
whenever you're ready, gentlemen," she said.  "I've made my preparations."
     Therion leaned back and said to the group, "Now, I have a horse, already 
saddled and ready...what of you?  Do you have horses?  Do we need to make some 
arrangements?  It is time that we were on our journey..."
     "I have no horse, and prefer to travel by foot," Vengar answered.  "This 
will allow me to see the land, and to read who has passed by and how long ago, 
which would be far more difficult on horseback, sometimes impossible.  And, I 
believe you will find that I have the stamina to keep my walking at that of 
your steed, lest you gallop.  And if you should choose to escape some threat, 
you will find that I am skilled at evasion.  So, unless there is a pressing 
need that I be mounted, I prefer to go on foot."
     "My...mount awaits outside," Aeryn said with a strange half-smile.  "And 
if we are all ready to leave, then by all means let us do so."  She stood and 
pushed her chair in, then looked expectantly at the others.
     Vengar was curious exactly what it was that Aeryn was intending to ride, 
and looked up at her inquisitively.  She stood beside the table, looking first 
at Therion and then Vengar, and back again.  She was smiling, but otherwise her
face was unreadable.  There was a distant light in her golden eyes, or so 
Vengar thought.  "Curious..." he thought to himself.
     Therion smiled, and said to Aeryn "Ah, mystery...the spice of life." 
Adding to Vengar "I admire stamina, and if you prefer to go on foot, so be 
it..."
     Aeryn stepped into the bright sunlight, blinking as her eyes grew 
accustomed to the light after the dim interior of the Inn.  She brought one 
hand up to shield her eyes as she scanned the street for the friend she had 
summoned during the night.  Suddenly Aeryn jumped in surprise when someone 
nudged her arm; she turned quickly to see who it was, her golden eyes beginning
to glow.  The glow faded when she saw who had nudged her.  "Scyld!  You 
shouldn't sneak up on me like that," Aeryn admonished the majestic slate-grey 
stallion standing in the shadow of the Inn.  She rubbed Scyld's badly-scarred 
forehead with a great show of affection.  "I trust you are well?" she asked him
politely.  The horse nickered in response.  "Excellent," Aeryn said with a 
smile.  "Scyld, I need to ask you a favor.  Would you be so kind as to assist 
me in a quest?"  The horse's expression became puzzled, and it nudged Aeryn 
once more as though asking her to elaborate.  "I'm searching for my origins," 
Aeryn explained briefly.  "I must travel far, and this time I think I need some
help."  The horse nodded its head and dropped to its knees, indicating that 
Aeryn should climb onto its bare back.  "Thank you," Aeryn said with a smile.  
She dropped a quick kiss on Scyld's scarred forehead before gracefully doing as
she was bid.  Scyld stood once more, and the two waited patiently for the 
others in the party.
     Therion was impressed by Aeryn's affinity with the horse, and commented on
it, saying "It is rare to see such mutual respect as you seem to have with 
Scyld!  Are you sure you don't practice a bit of mind magic yourself?"  Therion
chuckled.
     Therion went over to his horse, a large black warhorse in peak condition, 
and stood for a moment, as if communicating with the animal.  Therion chuckled,
saying to his companions "Star approves of the Inn...they served him the grain 
and hay I paid them for!"  He then mounted the horse, and the little group left
the Inn, going forth into a bright, clear morning with the air just a little 
chill.  
     Vengar walked about 10 paces in front of the other two, his eyes 
constantly flitting from side to side, and from the road surface to the sky 
above.  He did not expect to find anything, but it was always better to be 
prepared.  He carried no weapon openly, and the cloak he had been wearing the 
night before hid all the he carried beneath, with three exceptions...upon his 
back was a large pack that was obviously well-loaded; beside it over his left 
shoulder was a large quiver filled three-quarters full with long arrows, point 
downwards, revealing the fletchings - they were a deep, dark black, as black as
Vengar's hair, and colored along the edges a red the shade of blood;  and over 
his right shoulder was a long bow of extreme quality.  While Vengar was 
proficient with the sword, he preferred to dispatch his enemies at a distance. 
He maintained his leading position, but remained within earshot of Aeryn and 
Therion.
     Therion said "Unless you have a better idea, it seems that the best road 
is west to Groenwald...at about 20 miles away, we might be able to make it by 
nightfall.  Then, north to the Village of Fleivance - then Chadwick, Mysthaven
...unless, as I say, one of you has a better idea."
     "That is fine by me," Aeryn replied.
     "As I am a foreigner to these parts," replied Vengar, "I am not familiar 
with the land.  I cannot offer any suggestions."
     As the group traveled, the bright sun warming them, Therion said to Vengar
"When we stop this evening, we can begin your training, if you wish.  However, 
you will need to make a decision...one that will be unpleasant for you.  Just 
as a swordsman will learn how to grip and swing his weapon more easily if his 
teacher shows him first, so is it with the powers of the mind."  Therion 
paused, "Of course, the student could learn through verbal instructions and 
practice, but it will surely take more time.
     "So, then, Vengar...think and tell me your preference.  Do you prefer 
instructions and guidance, leading to the knowledge you desire....though it 
will take months of steady practice to achieve the mental silence you aspire to
...or would you prefer that I create certain effects within your mind...
patterns you can follow...which will cut the time to a few weeks?  You need not
answer now.  Think carefully which path you would find more to your liking."
     A most unpalatable decision.  If Vengar were to take instructions and 
guidance only, it would take an interminable length of time before he could 
muster sufficient defenses to ward off Therion's probes from his innermost 
thoughts.  On the other hand, if he accepted Therion's offers of demonstration,
he would be vulnerable to having them discovered all the same.  The question 
plagued the fighter for the entire journey to Groenwald.
     Therion then continued to Aeryn, "And, Aeryn, is there anything else you 
would care to tell us of your past and our quest?  The name of the village to 
which we travel, perhaps?"
     "I know nothing more than what I have told you already," Aeryn replied 
with a hint of irritation in her voice.  "And the village was so small that it 
did not even have a name.  It was simply a small group of hovels, isolated in 
the mountains...  There is probably very little left of it at all."
     The group rode on through the day, the trip both pleasant and uneventful. 
As Bellatrix {the sun here} rose higher, the day warmed;  somewhat after noon 
they came to a prosperous farmstead.  Therion went up to the house, greeted 
those present warmly, and negotiated lunch...the others noticed a few small 
coins changing hands, and Therion receiveed a variety of food...freshly baked 
bread, cheese, some sausage...in quantities sufficient to all.  He returned to 
the group and said, "In addition to the food, we now have a reserved place by a
stream down below."  Therion smiled.  "Care to join me?"
     Vengar answered, "Indeed!  For the vittals look delicious, and a break 
would be most welcome!  The venue you have chosen will be quite refreshing as 
well!"
     He went down to the stream, found a comfortable area underneath the shade 
of an old tree, and sat back, obviously enjoying the play of light on the 
water, and the sound of the flow as it coursed over rocks.  Soon, lunch was 
consumed, and Therion said to the group "We're making excellent time.  I see no
reason why we can't be in Groenwald by late this afternoon...".  He closed his 
eyes for several minutes or so, then smiled and continued "And, you will be 
glad to know that our hosts will know we're coming."
     Vengar's curiosity was aroused.  Therion was able to contact someone in 
Groenwald from this distance?  ("For certainly we are less than half-way 
there," he thought to himself)  Obviously, then, his powers are well-honed!  
This was both a boon and a curse, in that surely his mental defenses would be 
taught by one of the finest in the craft, and yet it was now all too clear that
this man would easily be able to read his secrets at the slightest whim.  
Vengar's upcoming decision on training was reaching a grim and reluctant 
conclusion.
     After their respite, the group proceeded into Groenwald, and soon arrived 
at the town.  Despite the presence of a good Inn, Therion encouraged the group 
to proceed a short distance out of town, while politely turning aside all 
questions about where they were going.  Soon, they came to a large and well 
kept house, and continued up to the front door.  A servant came forward, and 
held up a lantern to see the group better.  He smiled and said, "Welcome to 
Stanhill Court, m'Lord Chadwick.  Sir Anthony has readied rooms for yourself 
and your traveling companions."  Therion thanked the servant, and the group's 
horses were ushered to excellent stables with generous supplies of grain and 
hay, while the group itself found their rooms to be very nice indeed.
     Aeryn's brows raised at the mention of Therion's nobility, but she paid it
little mind.  She didn't usually pay much attention to people's rank--she was 
much more interested in their actions.
     As the servant turned into the hall to lead the travelers inside, Vengar 
said to Therion in a hushed voice, "'Lord' Chadwick?  I was unaware that you 
were of the nobility.  Although that would explain the seemingly limitless 
supply of coinage that seems to emanate from your purse!"
     Therion smiled and said, "We all have our little secrets...and, if you 
don't mind, it would be best if it didn't get mentioned outside our little 
group.  While Therion is just a harmless traveler, Lord Chadwick can almost 
never have a quiet evening at the Inn..."
     "Of course, my lord," replied Vengar, with just a hint of sarcasm, but not
so much as to be obvious or blatant.
     At Dinner (served promptly at 8!), all manner of excellent dishes were on 
the table, as footmen saw to it that no guest was long left unattended.  
Therion introduced his companions, and Sir Anthony (a greying older man, who 
still had all the marks of an accomplished fighter) was at his most charming.  
     Vengar listened with reverence as the noble host entertained his visitors 
with stories of his far-off adventures of many years past.  He slowly began to 
develop a deep respect for the man.  "The craft of battle is not the sort that 
yields many artisans of advanced years," thought Vengar.  "...and those that 
have attained that mark are either extremely skilled or extremely lucky.  I 
suspect that Sir Anthony is of the former."
     Following dinner, there were cigars and wine, along with yet more 
conversation...and Therion asked Sir Anthony about his map collection.  Sir 
Anthony was only too glad to show it off, for some of the maps were hundreds of
years old...and, they showed portions of Ifreann that were often relegated to 
legend.  Therion said to Aeryn, "Perhaps you would like to look at some of the 
Mysthaven area....?"
     Vengar was keenly interested in Sir Anthony's map collection, and while 
Aeryn and Therion were perusing the areas of Mysthaven, Vengar was searching 
through other places, attempting to glean as much information as possible 
without wearing his welcome with his distinguished host too thin.
     Sir Anthony was delighted to have an appreciative audience, and pointed 
out several locations on the maps where he had fought battles.  He also took 
obvious pride in some of his war trophies, including some well notched swords, 
enemy armor, and a shimmering piece of cloth given him as a favor by an elven 
lady...when he had fought as her champion!  He also coaxed Vengar to tell of 
some of his experiences as a fighter, sharing the joys of a victory well won as
only true warriors could.
     Aeryn listened politely to the conversation at dinner and afterwards, but 
she added little to it.  She examined the maps curiously, smiling now and then 
when she located certain areas which she had once visited.  Some of the maps 
were obviously outdated and incorrect, but most of them were quite good.
     As the evening wore on, it came time to retire.  Aeryn sighed with relief 
when she was finally shown to her room.  She hadn't quite realized how 
accustomed she had grown to being alone.  Though she had missed the company of 
other humans during her travels, she had soon remembered that she found 
conversation tedious and that she felt restrained by her companions.  But it 
was too late to turn back on the quest, and she resolved to remain patient.
     The room Aeryn had been given for the night was very large and was 
lavishly decorated.  A large four-poster bed, piled high with cushions, stood 
on a dais in the center of the room.  Tapestries hung on the stone walls, and a
plush blue carpet covered the cold stone floor.  Aeryn glanced carefully around
the room, then crossed to the single large window and looked outside with a 
wistful expression.  
     After a moment's debate, Aeryn turned and reached for her pack, which was 
lying on the bed.  She extracted a pair of soft brown leather gloves, which she
quickly donned, and a length of strong rope.  She tied the rope to one of the 
posts on the bed and tested it; she pulled with all of her strength, but the 
bed did not budge an inch.  With a satisfied smile she crossed to the window 
and climbed out of it.  She quickly made the descent to the ground and left the
rope dangling as she went in search of the stables.
     The moon shone brightly, making the night almost as bright as day.  It 
didn't take long for Aeryn to find the building in which her steed was housed. 
She easily snuck past a snoring stableboy and crept into the stable.  A few of 
the horses woke and moved restlessly, but Aeryn calmed them with a few 
whispered words.  Finally Aeryn reached Scyld's stall; she quickly unlatched 
the stall door and crept inside.
     "How are you, my friend?" Aeryn whispered as she scratched Scyld's scarred
forehead.
     Scyld shook his head and whickered softly.
     "I know--I'm not used to being indoors, either.  I'd much rather sleep out
under the stars," Aeryn said wistfully.
     Scyld nudged Aeryn with his soft nose, pushing her towards the door.
     "What will they think when we are found missing in the morning?" Aeryn 
asked, hesitating.
     Scyld snorted softly, tossing his head.
     "Well...as long as we're back by sunrise," Aeryn murmured.  She pushed the
door open so that Scyld could leave the stall.  Both moved silently through the
stable--amazingly enough, Scyld's hooves made no sound on the hard-packed dirt 
floor--and crept easily past the still-sleeping stableboy.  In a few moments 
they were past all danger, and Aeryn leapt onto Scyld's smooth back.  The two 
galloped off into the night.

     After the servants had shown them the way to their respective rooms, 
Therion took advantage of a private moment to fix Vengar with a firm gaze and 
say, "We really should start your training tonight...unless, you no longer wish
to pursue such studies?"
     Vengar's attitude slid a couple of degrees towards the more serious side. 
"Indeed, I feel this skill will be most useful.  And I think that it would be 
in everybody's best interest if I were to develop it as quickly as I could.  
Though I am not entirely comfortable with the decision, I choose the 
accelerated path of instruction.  Let us begin."  Vengar waited somberly for 
the mage's reply.
     Therion nodded and said to Vengar, "Very well...go into your room, lie 
down and relax.  Shortly, I will contact you by mind..."
     Therion went to his room, and prepared himself.  In a matter of minutes, 
he appeared to be asleep.  His mind was fully awake, and he concentrated on 
Vengar.  Vengar began hearing a strange tone, of a different kind than he had 
ever before heard.  
     Then he began to notice that he was getting sleepy, much more so than can 
normally be attributed to fatigue, for Vengar knew how to defeat the effects of
fatigue.  His eyelids began to droop, and Vengar fought the urge to fall asleep
with every fiber of his body.  But his will was no match for Therion's.  
Despite the tensions and suspicions Vengar felt, he was soon fast asleep.
     On a long and deserted seashore, with waves crashing regularly upon the 
beach, the two met.  Therion said to Vengar "It is important to remember the 
mental state you find yourself in...concentrate on the sounds, the ocean surf
...the place.  Learn it well, and you can return at will.
     Vengar closed his eyes and listened, listened to the waves crashing upon 
the shore, lightly, not so much a crashing.  The rythmic sound soothed Vengar, 
and he concentrated on it.  Suddenly, he noticed that the waves were paced with
his heartbeat...every fourth beat a wave came ashore.  Was this coincidence?  
Were the waves tuned to his heart alone, or were they tuned to Therion's heart 
for Therion?  What, if any, was the importance of this?  After a few moments of
pondering, Vengar opened his eyes and awaited further instruction from the 
mage.
     After an indeterminate time, Therion pointed to a small shed upon the 
beach, and said to Vengar "It is important that you achieve full concentration,
without distraction.  Inside the shed, imagine a strong chest with a heavy lid
...a chest so strong it can hold anything you put inside.  Do you have it 
firmly in your mind?"
     After a few moments, Vengar replied, "Yes, I have it."
     "Now, Vengar, go inside and open the chest.  Then, imagine anything that 
is disturbing to you...my invasion of your mind perhaps...your past, maybe...
whatever is distracting you needs to be put in the chest.
After you finish, close the heavy lid, and come out...and we will continue..."
     The two walked closer to the shed, and stopped at the door...Therion 
waited as Vengar entered....
     Vengar stood at the threshhold of the shed for a few moments, blinking 
while his eyes adjusted to the lower light level inside.  The first thing that 
he noticed was a chest, centered along the back wall but not against it.  It 
was constructed of a heavy, dark wood and banded in large, black iron bands.  
Vengar thought that it looked as if the wood was being squeezed tightly 
together by the bands.  The lid was hinged to the back of the chest and was 
lying open.  The chest was large, some five feet wide by three feet long by two
feet deep.
     As Vengar's eyes finally adjusted to the shed's light, he looked around at
the interior.  It seemed bigger from within than from without.  Upon closer 
examination, Vengar decided that it was bigger on the inside than on the 
outside.  He chuckled softly at the toying with dimensional perception and 
wondered if it were a test placed by Therion or just a little fancy crafting by
the mindmage.  But before he could finish the thought, something caught his 
eye.
     From beneath the open lid, behind the chest, a mist or fog was emanating. 
Vengar also heard voices, strange and distorted, completely unintelligible, 
seemingly coming from this direction and then suddenly from another.  Vengar 
began to reach for his sword when he heard a clear voice, softly at first, but 
gaining in volume.  "What are we hiding, Vengar?!  LET'S HAVE A LOOK!!!"
     Something about the voice was familiar to Vengar.  But before he could 
place it, a disembodied head floated out from beneath the chest's lid.  It was 
facing Vengar with a sinister look upon its face.  "THERION!!!" Vengar 
screamed, but not for the mage standing on the beach, because this head, and 
the voice, were his.  Just then the head charged Vengar, and he barely had time
to dive out of the way, his reflexes suddenly taxed into performance.  The head
barely missed the leaping fighter, and stopping at the far side of the shed 
began to slowly turn about for a second pass.  When Vengar had landed, he 
rolled up to his feet, and seeing the head turning around, charged it instead. 
When he had reached the middle of the shed, the head began its charge.  Again, 
Vengar lept aside, but this time a groped for the head.  Two fingers on his 
left hand latched unto a lock of gray hair, and quickly reeled in the head for 
a better grip.  It flailed wildly and shrieked with a most shrill cacophony, 
but Vengar's maintained his hold.  He deliberately walked over to the chest, 
and cast the head in.  It disappeared, its last shriek distorting in Vengar's 
ears, and a faint glow of golden light appeared across the opening to the 
chest.
     Vengar turned to leave, but he was no longer in the shed.  He now stood up
on a rocky outcropping with the ocean on three sides some two hundred feet 
below him.  The chest was there as well, fused to the rock behind him towards 
the mainland.  Vengar stood at the tip of the rock, facing out to sea, with a 
strong wind blowing into his face.  This same wind was whipping a churning mass
of storm-clouds inland.  The sky was entirely obscured by them, and they cast a
dull gray pallor upon the landscape.  The sea was the same colorless gray, and 
its waves were angrily pounding the sides of the rock, much faster and much 
more forcefully than on the beach.
     A second shriek pierced Vengar's ears, but this did not come from the 
levitating head of Therion, though its sound was identical.  This came from out
to sea.  Vengar strained his eyes in that direction, and saw a small, black dot
just above the horizon.  It was straight out over the water from where he 
stood.  He watched it, and quickly determined that it was closing.  Soon, he 
could make out wings, beating ferociously at the air.  Another shriek.  Vengar 
could now make out the body, its legs ending in razor sharp talons, its tail 
whipping menacingly behind, its head outstretched towards him as it raced ever 
closer.  And where the eyes should have been, two dark pits of nothingness, a 
void unlike anything Vengar had ever seen.  As two points of light could be 
seen at great distances, these two points of blackness were similarly visible. 
The beast let out a deafening shriek, and Vengar was transfixed by its eyes, 
unable to move, paralyzed.  The terrible creature opened its maw, revealing 
countless daggar-sized teeth, and Vengar waited to feel them tear into his 
body, unable to move in his defense or escape.  Seconds to go, he winced in 
anticipation.  But Death did not come.
     With a thunderous crash, the black giant was cast aside.  Vengar opened 
his eyes, and beheld a titanic battle, for there was not one but two of these 
creatures engaged in deadly combat.  And where the first was black as the 
darkest night, the second shimmered in a magnificent gold tone; where the wings
of the first were torn and tattered, those of the second were graceful while 
they were strong.  Vengar watched as they lunged and twisted, swooping and 
hovering, and saw several balls of fire, bolts of lightning, and other assorted
explosions and lights, and he surmised that magic was at play.  They battled 
all about the stunned fighter, who was too engrossed in seeing not one but two 
dragons, and locked in combat at that.
     But the evil one did not fight fairly, and through trickery and deception 
soon gained the advantage.  Seeing this, Vengar snapped from his trance.  With 
a flick of his right arm, he had his bow in hand and ready for combat.  Vengar 
had taught himself his combat skills, which meant that no one else could know 
his fighting style, and that had come in handy on several occasions.  As such, 
he held his bow horizontally, instead of the traditional vertical.  He then 
reached over his left shoulder and grabbed two arrows, nocked them side by 
side, drew the drawstring back (all the way until it rested on the side of his 
neck), and began searching for a target upon the giant black beast.  The 
continued fighting made it hard, but it was not long before he had a clear 
shot.  His bowstring made no noise as it sent the two missiles hurling towards 
their target.  Time slowed as Vengar watched them in, the seconds seeming like 
minutes.  But the two arrows found their mark, and they plunged into both eyes of the evil dragon, blinding it instantly.  As its eyes were punctured, they 
exploded as if under pressure, but no light was in the blast, only darkness.  
And then, nothing.
     Now blinded, the evil dragon could not fight, and instead attempted to 
flee.  But the golden dragon would not allow it, and with one bite lopped off 
the head of the terrible beast.  The body of the black dragon writhed and 
convulsed and headed out to sea, but the head was falling straight towards 
Vengar.  As it fell, Vengar noticed the golden dragon leaving, as quietly and 
unannounced as it had arrived.  He did not even have an opportunity to show his
gratitude, but there were other matters at hand.  The head was still falling, 
and as it drew near, Vengar realized that it was not going to strike him.  He
 watched as it fell closer.  With a colossal impact, the head landed cleanly 
inside the chest and disappeared, and the golden glow over the opening 
returned.
     Vengar now found himself back in the shed.  After a few minutes to catch 
his breath, he heard a woman's scream come from outside, followed by rushing 
noises and shouts and the clinking of metal on metal.  As Vengar walked to the 
door, he could hear distant hoofbeats at full gallop.  There were many riders.
     He opened the door and stepped out.  He was not on the beach as he had 
expected, but in a small village.  Men were running past him hastily, and he 
could see a group of them in the village center with makeshift weapons.  Women 
and children were also scattering, but they were heading for cover.  The men in
the village center were all looking in the direction from which the riders were
approaching, and seemed anxious and yet terrified.  "There will be a battle 
here," he said, and drew his sword and advanced towards the villagers.
     He had taken but a few steps when the riders came crashing into the 
village.  They were clad in ramshackle armor, but it was better than what the 
villagers had, which was none.  Their weapons were of poor qualilty, but they 
knew more about their implementation than did those who stood in their way.  
They, however, were far more determined and confident than the defenders, and 
they showed this as they swept in.  But most noticeable was their appearance, 
for they were far uglier than any human, and yet they were humanoid.  Vengar 
instantly recognized this as an orcan raiding party, for he had been waging a 
personal war against them for all his life.
     He lept at the lead rider, and noticed the surprised look on his face as 
he took him off his mount.  On the ground, Vengar quickly dispatched the orc 
and spun to find a new target.  By now, the band of defenders in the village 
center had been scattered, the survivors of the onslaught running for cover and
the orc raiders hunting them down individually and slaying them.  The situation
had degenerated into complete chaos, as was typical of these raids, and Vengar,
as skilled of a fighter as he was, knew that it was time to seek cover himself 
and be a little more selective in picking his opponents.
     He quickly dashed between a couple of small buildings, and made his way 
towards the edge of the village.  People were running past him in all 
directions, with occasional raiders interspersed.  Some of the orcs had 
dismounted and were either chasing the men on foot or ransacking the village 
for booty.  Turning a corner, he saw a small house that he recognized, but he 
did not at first remember from where.  A young woman ran from it, screaming, 
with an orc following close behind.  She, too, looked familiar, but from where?
Vengar stood there, transfixed from the familiarity yet uncertainty of his 
surroundings while the orc finally caught the woman.  He tore off her clothes 
and began to brutally ravage the woman, and that's when everything fell in 
place for Vengar.  His face flushed, and burning rage gripped his heart as his 
hand gripped the pommel of his sword so hard that his fingernails punctured the
skin of his palm and he bled.  "No," he said quietly, gradually increasing in 
volume as the rage boiled over. "No!  NO!!  NO-O-O!!!!!"
     He charged the orc, wheeling his sword around his body in a horrific 
display of unbridled fury.  The orc looked up, distracted by the charging 
Vengar, and belatedly reached for his weapon.  A few paces out, Vengar took to 
the air, sword forward, intending to skewer the foul beast.  The suddenness of 
his landing took his breath away, and he closed his eyes in pain from the 
impact and the scene.  He rolled over into a sitting position, and wept hard 
for several minutes, dropping his sword and laying his head in his hands.  He 
did not check to see that his enemy lay dead, nor did he mount any sort of 
defense.  He sat and cried for all the crimes that had been committed on this 
terrible day, a day from his past, for this was his home village and this is 
where it had all begun.  For several minutes he sat there and wept, oblivious 
to the outside world and mired in his own grief and anger.
     Then, Vengar noticed that the sounds of a village being ransacked seemed 
to float away and fade in the distance.  Just before they had vanished 
completely, he opened his eyes.  He was back in the shed, sitting against the 
wooden chest.  He stood, and saw that the lid was now closed, and his sword was
embedded in the top.  Still with tears in his eyes, he placed his foot on the 
chest, grasped the sword and began to work it loose.  "Damn you, Vengar," he 
said to himself, "how long have you trained to control your emotions?  And in 
the face of battle you lose it.  You better do better than that if you are to 
help Aeryn on her quest!"  Having finally retrieved his sword, Vengar sheathed 
it and, composing himself, left the shed.  He was back on the beach, the ocean 
waves peacefully breaking on the shore.  He saw Therion standing a short 
distance away, and he approached him.
     After Vengar returned, Therion said, "Good...now, come with me."  The two 
walked a short distance, and came to a stark, gray cliff.  They saw a closed 
door, and three steps.  Therion concentrated for a moment, and the tone Vengar 
heard changed subtly...Therion then suggested to Vengar that the door would 
open.
     Vengar approached the door and opened the latch.  It was unlocked.
     The two entered the room, which was filled with a variety of items...
Therion said to Vengar, "This is the first step.  It is the beginning of the 
mind discipline.  The items you see here are your surface thoughts...as your 
thoughts become more controlled, the room will become more unified, more real. 
Look around...ideally, it should be almost empty.  
     Vengar did as the mage requested.  He could see hints of faces, orcish 
faces, obviously left from his encounter in the shed.  He stiffened his control
over his emotions, burying them deeper behind the tasks at hand, and the ghosts
began to fade.  Vengar then heard a meow, and looking down saw a cat at his 
feet.  He reached down to pick it up, but his hand passed straight through it. 
"Curious," he thought, "an ethereal cat."  It then dawned on him that the cat 
was a manifestation of his curiousity into the lessons being taught by Therion.
He tried, but failed, to mask it.
     Therion then began tapping on the walls of the room, and the tone in 
Vengar's ears changed again.  A doorway out of the room opened, and they saw 7 
steps up.  The stairway was dark, and a mist swirled about within.  Therion 
continued "At the top is another doorway.  It will take some work to enter that
room...it will be much like this room, but the images will be those of your 
entire mind, including the subconscious.  There, you will begin by facing your 
deepest feelings and emotions -- loves, hates, fears --- and, when you conquer 
those, you will be ready for the next step.  When you have succeeded in opening
the door to the room above, and getting it under control, we will be ready to 
learn some of the techniques you desire.
     Vengar gazed at the door as Therion continued.
     First, you must bring your conscious and unconscious mind under control...
and then, I can show you many tools.  Ways to block your own thoughts from 
leaking to others;  ways to prevent outside influences from disturbing you --- 
ways to accelerate the healing of injuries.  A method of meeting others, in the
mental planes.
     Therion smiled, then added, "Of course, the room up there is not the top. 
They continue far above...as far as you might want to go."
     The tones then changed, and Therion and Vengar returned to the shore.  
Therion's image wavered and disappeared, as Vengar went into a peaceful and 
relaxed sleep...

     Therion got up the next morning feeling very good about his new student.  
Vengar had done very well indeed!  At this rate, he would be able to achieve 
his goal in a relatively short time...and, perhaps, he would wish to continue 
his studies beyond the rudimentary level.  He wondered if Vengar would be 
interested in learning how the body could be encouraged to heal itself much 
more quickly than normal...Therion chuckled at the thought of Vengar becoming a
sedentary scholar!
     Therion left his room, going downstairs to a hearty breakfast.  Sir Andrew
prided himself on being a generous host, and today was no exception.  Of 
course, the host had already been up some time, for running a substantial 
estate demanded a certain amount of effort;  and anyway, Sir Andrew enjoyed 
immersing himself in the rural life!
     Over eggs, bacon, freshly baked bread and newly churned butter, Therion 
reflected on the adventure before the little group...it seemed likely that the 
next night would be spent outdoors.  He wondered when Aeryn and Vengar would be
down.
     Locating Sir Andrew, Therion negotiated some provisions and warm woolen 
blankets for the group...Sir Andrew refused all compensation, for he believed 
in the noble virtue of 'largesse';  besides, Therion had been no less generous 
on occassions when Sir Andrew had been the guest....
     Therion went back to the house, looking for his friends....

     Vengar awoke with a start.  There was a strange smell in the air, smelling
very salty.  Where had he encountered that before?  In the dream...by the sea
...was that a dream?  Vengar could not remember the details from the first 
lesson very clearly except the ocean, which he remembered vividly.  Yes, that 
was it, definitely the sea brine on the air, but by that time it had dissipated
and vanished.
     Vengar left his room and headed for the dining chambers that the group had
supped in the night before.  He soon became disoriented in the vast chambers of
house, but Sir Andrew's servants were very courteous and directed him to the 
breakfast table.  Vengar had just finished selecting his meal when Therion 
arrived.
     "Good morning, Therion.  As I am not familiar with these lands, tell me, 
are we near the sea?"  he asked the mage.
     "Why, no, Vengar, we aren't.  Why do you ask?"  replied Therion.
     Vengar's face looked puzzled.  "Hmm...strange...I distinctly smelled what 
I thought was a salty sea breeze for an instant shortly after awaking.  If we 
are not near the sea, then the source of that smell is a mystery.  Could it 
have been from the lesson last night?"
     Therion smiled and said, "Excellent!  It's very encouraging that you 
remember your experiences so intensely!  You see, Vengar, there is more to mind
magic than sending messages to others or reading their surface thoughts.  You 
can also apply it's power to your own body;  to heal much more quickly, for 
example...or to keep warm or cool during inclement weather."  Therion leaned 
back happily and said, "Just keep up your practices, and as soon as you enter 
and take control of the room at the top of the seven steps, there is much I can
teach you...if you wish!...in addition to protecting your thoughts."
     "Indeed!" answered Vengar, "but it seems to me that you may be trying to 
make another Therion as much as train a Vengar!"  He smiled wryly at the mind 
mage.
     The little group soon got on the road, but it would not be practical to 
reach the Castle of Baron Carnarvon....the Lord of the Montfort area...on that 
day.  The trip passed as uneventfully as had the previous day, with only the 
occassional merchant or tradesman to exchange greetings and news of road 
conditions ahead.  Lunch was pleasant enough, with some of Sir Andrew's 
provisions providing nourishment, and the shade of an oak in a grassy field 
supplying shade.  
     Vengar had made it a habit of inspecting the groups eating sites 
unobtrusively, looking to see the likes of who may have stopped there 
previously.  The oak that Therion had picked seemed pleasant enough, and 
Vengar did not see any signs of previous occupation, at first.  However, after 
finishing his lunch and conducting a second look, he spotted something on the 
back of the tree from where they had been sitting.  A small iron hook, just 
above Vengar's head, had been pounded into the trunk.  Upon closer scrutiny, 
Vengar was able to tell that it had been done recently.  This he told to Aeryn 
and Therion.  What he did not tell them was that he suspected this was the work
of orcs, and that this hook was used to confine a prisoner...the rope binding 
the poor beings hands was looped over this hook, raising the prisoner's arms to
the point where he or she was barely standing on tiptoes...a very cruel and 
painful way to immobilize a prisoner.  And if the prisoner was female (and it 
almost always was...the orcs typically killed males outright), who knows what 
unspeakable things they had done here.  Vengar shuddered, and steeled himself 
against the thought.  If they were still in the area, he would need his senses 
and his reflexes alert.  For the first time in their journey, Vengar openly 
carried a weapon...his bow.
     As they continued, Bellatrix dipped toward the horizon, and the shadows 
grew long.  The group was still about 10 miles from the Castle, and a camp was 
soon made.  The stars came out, glittering brilliantly in the night sky, and 
the small fire that had warmed their simple meal slowly died down to embers.  
As conversation had waned, Therion took some of the blankets, stretched out, 
and went to sleep.  Those who happened to look toward him noticed a slight 
glimmering of greenish light in the form of a bubble around his form.
     Vengar looked at the light surrounding the mage and wondered what exactly 
this energy shield did and how it worked.  But, really, his mind was wandering.
Vengar could not get to sleep right away, and was easily the last of the three 
to finally achieve slumber.  Even when he finally had, it was very rough sleep 
at that.  He lay awake, mulling over the discovery he had made at lunch, 
wondering about the possibilities that the orcs were still in the area, the 
possibilities that they would encounter them in the next few days, or even the 
possibilities about them ambushing the group at night.  The thought had flashed
through Vengar's mind to set watches, but it was quickly put aside on account 
that they were still deep in civilized lands (according to the maps of Sir 
Andrew).  Perhaps that dismissal was too hasty?  Little did Vengar know that 
his question would soon be answered.
     Midnight had passed when the small raiding party of orcs began approaching
the sleeping group.  There were rustlings, and the unique odor that seemed to 
accompany such raiding parties.  As these matters impinged on the senses of the
party, a young girl taken captive by the orcs earlier, screamed in warning.  
     Vengar was awakened instantly by the rustlings, his fighter instincts 
reacting at the slightest sound of an approaching enemy.  The odor confirmed 
it.  It WAS orcs!  His blood boiled, but the fighter did not move...he did not 
want to alert his adversaries that he was awake.  Instead, he wanted to reverse
the ambush.  He lay silently listening.  When the girl screamed, he pinpointed 
her location off to his left.  He rolled over, as if asleep, and carefully 
dropped his left hand onto the bow that he had purposefully placed beside him. 
Upon his movement, the rustlings stopped, but resumed shortly.  With his back 
to the approaching enemy, Vengar dared open his eyes.  What he saw startled 
him.
     A ghostly image of Therion appeared to Vengar and Aeryn, yet the orcs 
seemed blind to it.  The kindly face of the mage had been replaced by a hard, 
cold, emotionless look...and as the image touched one of the  orcs, the orc 
screamed in utter agony, grasping his head with his hands and collapsing dead 
on the spot.  The other orcs readied their weapons and prepared for a fight....
     Vengar took his cue instantly.  Rolling again, he came up on his feet with
his bow combat-ready, already with an arrow knocked.  As he came to his feet, 
his eyes quickly located the orc holding the captive...he had a knife to her 
throat but for whatever reason had not slain her after the scream...perhaps she
was a very important prisoner.  As soon as the bow was level with the target, 
Vengar let loose.  The muted twang of the bowstring was matched almost 
instantly with the dull thud of the arrow impacting its target...square in the 
chest, with the tip protruding from the back about an inch.  The orc stood for 
a second, life draining from him, and finally collapsed in a pile.  The young 
girl screamed again, frightened at having been so close when Death claimed 
another victim.  Too stunned to try to escape she stood there, as did the other
orcs.  Vengar grabbed three more arrows, setting one in each of the spaces 
between his knuckles (so THAT'S why he wore that leather glove on his left hand
alone!) and fired into the thickest part of the orcan mob.  Three hits, one in 
the chest, one in the belly, and a third in the leg, killing two and disabling 
a third.  But the orcs were no longer stunned, and a general melee was breakingout.
     Vengar had done amazing things with his arrows, but there were still 
enough orcs that they felt courageous.  He dropped his bow onto the quiver at 
his feet and reached for his sword.  As he was reaching for it, he could see 
that  Therion's ghostly image stood in the midst of the orcs, as they passed 
through him unknowing.  One of the larger orcs started to make a grab for the 
girl, then suddenly turned on the other orcs, hacking and slashing in a berserk
frenzy, without any heed of defense.  
     The other orcs were completely surprised by this unexpected attack, and 
several were slain.  Oddly, none of the orcs seemed to notice as the girl 
withdrew a short distance and stood staring quietly at the bloody melee.  Just 
as the raiding party finished killing the turncoat orc, the strongest remaining
orc attacked his companions without warning.  The attack was made all the more 
fearsome, since the attacking orc kept screaming for help in absolute terror...
     Through all of this, Therion's image stood, his ghostly face impassive;  
the apparation remained impervious to the unseeing random blows of the now 
panicking orcs.  
     Vengar stood temporarily transfixed by this awesome display of Therion's 
power over the minds of the assailants, but opportunity was calling.  He drew 
his blade, and all about were blinded by a sudden flash of a terribly bright 
bluish light.  The blade itself was entirely black, as devoid of color as the 
eyes of the beast that had attacked him in his first lesson with Therion the 
night previous.  And about the edges of the blade danced slight wisps of blood 
red, not quite flames and not quite myst, but somewhere in between.  All the 
orcs stopped at this terrible sight, eyes fixed on the blade which Vengar 
raised straight over his head, and their hearts filled with even more fear, if 
there was any room left after Therion's handiwork.  He spoke two words of a 
strange tongue, and his voice thundered as if amplified by some force.  Then, 
Vengar struck the nearest orc, and clove him in two with the force of his blow.
The others readied, some facing Vengar and others their possessed comrade.  
Vengar withdrew his sword from the new carrion, and swung full around to catch 
the next victim with a slashing cut across the body, nearly cutting him in two 
as well.
     Vengar had noticed the young girl moving slowly away from the orcs, and 
he fought in a direction that would place him between the vile creatures and 
the fair maiden.  But the raiding party was quickly losing its stomach for 
fighting, seeing that most of the dying was being done by themselves...not at 
all what they had originally planned.  Therion's second apprentice went down, 
and he took a third, and Vengar had dispatched several others by the sword when
the remaining orcs (perhaps half of their original number) broke and fled.  
Vengar pursued for a short distance, but having left his bow back in the camp 
he could not continue the fight.  He shouted three more words at the fleeing 
orcs, his voice still bellowing.  He stopped his pursuit, and watched the orcs 
as they ran, stumbling and tripping over each other in their haste to leave, 
until all were out of sight.  He then returned to the camp.
     As Vengar returned to camp, he saw the girl go to a soft area, lie down, 
and promptly go into a deep sleep.  The ghostly image of Therion walked over to
his still sleeping body, reclined next to the body, then merged with it.
     Moments later, Therion opened his eyes, looked at Vengar, and said, "Well,
we seem to have learned something about each other this evening.  I see that 
you have most impressive skills as a warrior;  and your sword is well suited to
your talents.  And, you have seen that I am not completely helpless in a 
fight...."
     "Indeed," replied Vengar.  "Tonight I received yet more insight into the 
vast power of the mind, and what it can accomplish if it is properly trained 
and disciplined.  Therion, I am impressed."
     Therion was quiet for a moment, then continued "The girl will sleep 
peacefully until morning.  She has lost her entire family, but other than the 
minor injuries you see...and the emotional pain...she was unharmed.  Her name 
is Alicia, by the way.  I have temporarily obscured her memories of the last 
few days, but I suppose she will have to deal with them eventually..... I 
wonder if Lord Carnarvon might be able to take her into his service?  She 
doesn't seem to have any place else to go...what do you think?
     Vengar was beginning to calm after the ferocity of the battle, but the 
similarity of Alicia's current situation to that which he had suffered through 
in his past reversed the trend.  His rage began to rise, and his jaw and fists 
clenched.  But Therion had given Vengar the ability to better deal with these 
troubling memories, and Vengar forced himself to imagine the beach upon which 
he had received his first lesson.  He pictured the small shed, and the chest 
therein. His eyes narrowed in a tight squint, he imagined forcing each of the 
attacking orcs into the chest.  One by one, they were forced in, and gradually 
Vengar began to relax.  After a few moments, he was back to normal.
     Therion nodded his head, smiled and said, "Very well done!  You learn 
quickly...soon, you will be ready to take control of the next room..."
     Vengar was pleased at the confidence Therion had in him, but he didn't 
have the heart to tell him that it had been a struggle to maintain the level of
control he was displaying.  Having barely accomplished that task, control of 
the next room seemed a little farther off than Therion appeared to be hoping. 
     "Well, Therion," began Vengar, "it is clear that she is too young to join 
us.  Perhaps Lord Carnarvon could see to her welfare and well-being and 
eventually to her learning a trade or skill.  But one question lingers...what 
benefit would the Lord get from performing this service?  It is certainly no 
small task that you would ask of him...essentially asking him to become this 
girl's father."
     Therion looked confused for a moment and said, "But Vengar...surely you 
don't think that being a noble is only eating large meals, wearing luxurious 
clothing, and sleeping in a large house?  Have you not heard of noblesse 
oblige?  Lord Carnarvon has an obligation to the people, as they do to him.  
And, a young and comely girl of 18, who has lost her family in a hideous manner
...has neither resource nor substance...has a claim on him, as surely as he has
on his subjects.  He is a decent and honorable man;  and I know that he will do
the just and noble thing in this matter."
     "Perhaps, my dear Therion, but, to answer your first question,  I have no 
knowledge of what being a noble is, seeing as I have never been one," replied 
Vengar.
     "Also, I would like an opportunity to talk with Alicia when she awakes.  I
think the two of us have a common past to which we can relate."
     Therion nodded and said, "Of course...perhaps it would be good for her."
     After the conversation was over, Vengar went about gathering the orcan 
corpses and removing them from the campsite.  Each one that he had personally 
killed, however, he first cut off the right ear with a small daggar and 
sprinkled some fine, grayish dust upon it.  Then he would reach into a sack 
that he had hanging from the side of his belt and pull out a string on which 
were several dozen such war trophies...and not all were orcan, though by far 
most were.  Vengar would then pierce the newly acquired prizes and feed them 
onto the string with the others, and return the whole to the bag whence it 
came.  He did this calmly and without emotion, indicating that he had most 
likely repeated this practice many times after combat.
     Within several minutes, Vengar had removed the corpses to a distance from 
the camp, and, after cleaning his sword and gathering his arrows (none of the 
four he had discharged had broken), he bedded down for the night.  He slept 
more comfortably, for he was well-versed in orcan tactics, and he was confident
that that raiding party would not accost them again these evening...it was far 
too close to morning for them to launch another attack prior to sunrise and 
while they were perfectly capable of fighting during the day, they preferred 
the night.  The next night, however, could be a different story, but he would 
worry about that tomorrow.  A fighter needs his rest to fight well the next 
day!
     As the group returned to their interrupted sleep, Therion again lay down 
and the greenish glow glimmered for a moment.  The girl, Alicia, settled into a
quiet sleep, and her memories of her recent past became obscured.  Therion 
didn't like the idea of being attacked again, and besides, his own lands had 
been victimized by raiders some years in the past.  Anyway, Vengar needed more 
training...
     A few hours later, Therion appeared to Vengar on the same beach Vengar had
dreamt of before.  Therion said to Vengar, "I prefer not to be attacked again; 
would you care to accompany me in disturbing the raider's sleep?"
     "Why, certainly!"  answered Vengar, eager to return a little of what his 
sworn enemy had been dishing out.
     Therion then left the beach.  Vengar accompanied him.  Therion stood in 
the campsite, looking about at the sleeping group.  He looked as solid as he 
would if he were in body.  Therion concentrated on the orcs, there was a 
feeling of a shift in consciousness, and he stood looking at a small, dirty 
camp of much the worse for wear orcs.  They were in a cave, with animal bones 
from a recent meal strewn about.  Roughly a dozen orcs, half of them wounded, 
were present and none were in a pleasant mood. 
     Vengar was startled, and quickly reached for his sword, but a staying hand
from Therion paused him.  He relaxed slightly, hand still on the hilt of his 
undrawn blade, and watched what Therion was doing.
     Therion stood silently, observing the aura around each orc.  Dull and red 
was the norm, although a few were a bit brighter.  One after the other, the 
Orcs lay down to sleep.  The two who had been designated as guards soon slept 
as well.  Then one after another, the orcs ceased to breath until only one, the
leader, was left alive.  
     Therion said to Vengar, "Now...let us learn something of another's mind.  
One of the first tasks to be faced in guarding your thoughts from another, 
especially when they enter your mind, is to have a strong understanding of how 
other minds feel.  Come, let us enter this orc's mind....and, the two entered.
     Vengar's heart began to race.  It was almost as if Therion was leading him
through the orc's mind, out ahead of him somewhere, as if scouting.  What would
they find?  What was it like to probe another's mind?  All the reservations he 
had had before in the Inn had given way to intense curiosity.  Vengar would 
have to deal with the moral ramifications of his actions (if there were any...
after all, this was an orc) when the excitement of the moment had faded.
     All of the expected thoughts were there;  the orc was both a bully and a 
coward.  He had engaged in many acts of cruelty when he thought he could, and 
had abandoned his friends to save his own skin more than once.  And, there was 
something more, something that had happened years ago, when a raiding party of 
orcs had attacked a human village, and this then young orc had been on his 
first raid...
     He saw Therion pause in the orc's mind, gazing at a thought that Vengar 
could not yet see.  Vengar approached the mage.
     Therion's face turned grim as he hid the orc's memories behind a dark 
cloud.  
     "What is it?"  Vengar asked Therion.  "Did you place that cloud there?  
What did you see?  Where are we going?"  Vengar's excitement was gradually 
being replaced by agitation and outright anger, for he suspected what Therion 
had seen, but his mind would not let him beleive it.  "I MUST KNOW!!"  Vengar 
was screaming, and pleading with Therion, but the mage was obstinate and would 
not listen.  "PLEASE, SHOW ME!!  I MUST KNOW!!"
     Therion pulled Vengar out of the Orc's mind, and the last they saw of him 
his body was convulsing while his aura dimmed and was extinguished.  Returning 
to their bodies, Therion's last words to Vengar were, "Forgive me Vengar.  I 
did not know...I did not mean to expose you to such pain."
     They had returned to the beach, but the trauma and shock of the unexpected
revelation was too much for Vengar's self control.  The chest in the shed burst
forth, and hundreds, thousands of orcs were pouring out.  Vengar drew his sword
and went screaming into the throng, tears pouring down his cheeks.  He fought 
with a fierceness and tenacity that he never had before, but there was little 
accomplished.  He sliced through the oncoming horde like butter, but they 
contined to come.  He was wounded on several occasions in several locations, 
but never seriously, and he kept fighting, and the orcs kept coming.  It was a 
battle that Vengar fought all through the night, and it was a fitfull night at 
that.  A long and desperate battle against a hatred that would not go away, not
after so many reminders of the past. Vengar had lost control of his emotions, 
and only the fact that he was fighting in his dreams kept him in relative 
safety.  When he finally awoke the next morning (uncharacteristically late at 
that), it was as if he had not slept at all.  He had left the beach and the 
battle, but there were still a few remnants of the massive horde that had been 
released roaming about at the ocean's edge.  Vengar would have to spend several
minutes that morning cleaning up his thoughts.  Several very painful minutes.

     The next morning dawned, clear, bright, and beautiful, as Therion looked 
at Vengar with concern...Therion said to Vengar, "We must go to Castle 
Carnarvon.  The way is not long, and several matters continue to get worse.  
Here, Vengar, join me in some breakfast...a bit of bread and cold meat, that we
may be on our way the earlier."
     Vengar took what Therion was offering without making a sound, and he ate 
it slowly and solemnly, obviously troubled by other matters.
     "You have perhaps noticed that our companion Aeryn has been distracted 
these last few days;  and you will see that she has left quietly with her 
belongings.  I perceived an unrest within her, as if she needed to leave for 
some reason, on a journey we could not share."
     Vengar looked over to where Aeryn had beeded down the night before.  There
had obviously been someone there at one time, but there was no sign of the 
woman or her belongings.  It then occurred to Vengar that he did not remember 
her participating in the struggle the night before.  Vengar's mood took a turn 
for the worse, as the member for whom this venture had been commissioned was 
now missing, leaving them for the moment without direction.
     Therion supplied food from the bounty Sir Andrew had given them;  Alicia 
continued to respond quietly, as if her emotions were still under outside 
control.
     "Therion must be helping her maintain her composure," Vengar thought to 
himself.  "Perhaps it is time that I help myself maintain mine."  He closed his
eyes and imagined the beach.  It was far different from the any of the previous
times he had visited...it was much the worse for wear.  Vengar imagined himself
hunting and tracking the few remaining marauders that he had fought the 
previous night.  One by one he cleared the beach of the foul beasts.  Having 
completed that task, he then set himself to rebuilding the shed and the chest, 
but before he could do so he was interrupted.  It was time to move on, as 
Therion was pressing for an immediate departure.  At least Vengar was in a 
better state of mind to again scout ahead and look for ambushes.
     Alicia was placed upon the horse, and the group walked quickly toward 
Castle Carnarvon.  Therion seemed to be in an unusual hurry, and by noon they 
had covered more than half the distance.  During a short respite, they ate a 
few mouthfuls of food and Therion used some of his abilities to heal himself..
for he was not used to walking such distances, especially at a forced march 
rate.
     By late afternoon, Castle Carnarvon loomed before the group.  The Baron 
was of the 'old school' who felt that a castle should be a strong point and a 
refuge, as opposed to a mere decoration.  It had been built many years ago of 
good stone and heavy timbers, and well armed and thoroughly trained men at arms
guarded the gates and walls.  
     Vengar was very impressed...there were few of these strongpoints left in 
the lands from where he had come.  His spirits lifted at the possibility of 
getting an inside look at the castle's construction and defenses.  He would 
have to see if Therion could persuade the Baron for such a luxury.
     As Therion approached, a guard greeted them and took them inside.  
Entering the Great Hall, Therion smiled and said to the Baron, "Greetings, 
Carnarvon!  I hope I find you and yours well today!  I would like for you to 
meet Vengar, a friend and fellow traveler;  he is a skilled warrior.  And, a 
young woman named Alicia, whose family resided within your lands before their 
untimely passing at the hands of orcs."
     Vengar was not much for pleasantries or formalities, but he greeted the 
Baron with as much courtesy as he could muster.
     Lord Carnarvon responded to Therion saying, "As always, you and your 
friends are most welcome, Chadwick!  I regret that orcs are a problem again 
after all these years;  yet, the great plague that struck Ifreann a time ago 
reduced the number of human beings to such an extent that the foul creatures 
once again plague all the lands.  However;  let us talk of better things and 
happier times!"
     Servants conducted the three to rooms where they could freshen up after 
their travels, and soon they were reunited in the great hall with good food and
good drink.  A young servant played upon the mandolin.  Alicia looked much 
better, being dressed in attractive clean clothing.  After considerable 
pleasant conversation, the tired travelers went to their rooms again.  Just 
before they parted, Therion said to Vengar, "Much needs to be discussed;  and 
there is little time.  If you are willing, clear your mind this evening and we 
will talk..."
     When Vengar had retired to his room, he did as Therion had asked.  He soon
began getting drowsy, and his eyelids began drooping.  Soon, he was asleep.
     Therion met Vengar on the beach;  the shattered box lay nearby, and the 
ocean was dark as the sea and wind roared about them.  In the distance, 
stormclouds gathered as red flashes of lightning lashed out against the waves. 
Therion had a pained look on his face as he gestured, and the two found 
themselves in a room with rich wooden walls, a wealth of books, and in the 
corner a heavy black cube.  Vengar now knows Therion well enough to realize 
that this must surely be one of the locations within the mage's mind...perhaps 
the one above the seven steps.
     Therion said to Vengar, "I know that what you are facing is hard...I 
brought you here so that we could talk in a calmer setting without my taking 
control of your emotions.  There are some things you must know."
     Vengar nodded for the mage to continue.
     "First, about Alicia...I have blocked many of the emotions she feels right
now;  although ultimately, she must face them.  She needs time, and the Baron 
has agreed to keep her safe here.  He's gruff on the
outside, but he would never ignore a maiden in distress.  Over the years, as 
her memories develop and the past recedes, I believe Alicia will recover."
     "That is good."  Vengar was not in a talkative mood.
     "Now...another matter.  The orc we 'visited' was named Gurlith; and the 
memories you sensed despite my efforts to shield you from them were exactly 
what you believed them to be.  I let my foolish pride lead me to take you with 
me on an exploration before I had scouted out the dangers...for that, I beg 
your forgiveness.  Those memories should not have been touched for quite some 
time...but as the mystics say, that which does not kill us, strengthens us.  If
you can take control of these memories, you will be well along the path to 
entering your upper mind."
     Vengar made no sound, as he stared aimlessly at the floor.
     "And...still worse, Vengar...I find that I did not finish the job with 
Gurlith.  He lives;  and my intrusion brought forth an amazing rage within him.
He has found a minor mage of the left hand path, and a few orcs and human 
outlaws...and even now, they are plotting to injure a great many helpless 
people.  Because of the mage, I cannot so easily kill these enemies;  and, they
travel toward Chadwick.  My people depend on me, so I must not stand idly by 
and do nothing while these predators injure them."
     As Therion was saying these tidings of evil deeds, Vengar's eyes gradally 
rose off the floor and met Therion's.  Anger was again beginning to increase, 
but not the uncontrolled destructive anger that had plagued the fighter the 
night before...this was a more controlled emotion, the kind that allowed him to
plan with coherence and fight with ferocity.
     "So, Vengar...what is your choice?  You are welcome to come with me, and 
perhaps we can prevent Gurlith from hurting more people;  or, since this is not
really your fight, we can part with all honor and good will."
     Without delay, Vengar replied, "I have dedicated my life to the 
eradication of the orcan race.  If they plot to attack any village in my 
vicinity, then I will be the first to stand and resist.  Besides, we were 
heading in a northerly direction on the quest that Aeryn had requested we 
accompany her, and if I remember the maps from Sir Anthony's collection, 
Chadwick lies on the same heading correct?  I stand by your side in the defense
of Chadwick, Therion, Lord Chadwick."  Then, in a quieter voice, "Besides, I 
have a personal vendetta that must be resolved against this Gurlith."
     When Therion had left Vengar, he was back on the beach.  It had little 
changed from when Therion had taken them to his room, with one exception.  In 
the distance, barely audible over the thunder rolling in from the sea, war 
drums were booming a steady, dreadful beat.  Vengar had placed them there as an
added motivation to clean up this part of his mind, and he set about that task.
Gradually, the drums grew louder, and the beat surrounded the beach and 
thundered in from all sides.  The storm was receeding, and Vengar was making 
good progress.  The shed was rebuilt, and the drumsound was still increasing.  
Vengar had repaired the chest, and the drums were still getting louder.  Now 
Vengar was standing in the middle of the beach, the drums reaching a climatic 
crescendo, and the thundering bass of the drums pounding on Vengar's chest, for
they were so loud as to be felt.  The warrior was being whipped into a battle 
frenzy.  The drums were pounding, Vengar's heart was pounding, and the 
adrenalin was surging throughout his body.  The drums and his heart were 
synchronized, and this worked only to increase the frenzy.  The drumsound was 
no longer something to be heard, but something to be felt.  Vengar's blood was 
on fire, and his eyes radiated a brilliance that could scorch the earth.  At 
the peak of the excitement, Vengar let out a warrior's cry, a bellowing scream 
that shook the foundations of the cliffs around him and rattled the few 
remaining storm clouds above him.

     Vengar then awoke.  It was the next morning.