Crispian heard the sound, instantly fully awake but not moving in the least. The hand under the covers gripped the hilt of his dirk tight. He continued breathing steadily and evenly. He would wait. Whoever it was would move. He was suddenly thankful for all those weeks in the field that made him comfortable sleeping in plate mail.

 

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Ilara scanned the room with her eyes from the darkness. She looked to Crispian... then looked around once more. 'That robe... that robe... it had to be some where... there... behind the desk, it's sticking out of one of his drawers.' she thought to herself. She then turned her eyes to Crispian. 'He isn't snoozing like he was... and only Hecate knows for sure if he is really sleeping or just laying there... wait... distraction. Yes, that is it, I need a distraction. Though I must hurry... I need to make it to the church to have an alibi where I was at this night... though it would take me awhile to find a guard at night that could direct me there, since I do not remember...' silently laughed inside thinking of what she can do.


But then her eye caught something... it was small, but... THE KEY! Sticking out of the robes. 'Surely you are watching me this night my Goddess! I dont need the whole robe. In fact, he doesn't know it is there, so if I can just grab that and leave, he would think he scared off his robber without the thief finding anything!'


Ducking low, she silently got to the edge of his desk. Reaching up with her hand, she palmed the key, and carefully to not make the chain any noise, folded it together into one of her pouches in her armor. She then went back to her corner, but she still needed an escape. She looked to the damaged window... if she opened it he would know. But if she can buy one moment to distract him, she could be out the window and down, gone before he knew what happened.


Reaching into her pouch she pulled out a pebble. The rogues had taught her this trick... though would it work against a Centurian of the Realm? A trained battle-warrior? Looking to Crispian... still not snoozing as he was before. 'No... he may be trained in battle, but tricks he knows little of. He would think this pebble is me, trying to sneak around the room stealing his items...' taking a breath, Ilara scanned the room again for a target. She smiled. By the door was a small chair. She could hit the chair, and Crispian might think the thief was sneaking out through the door. 'Goddess help me.' she prayed, knowing all she needed was one second to be out the window... she threw the rock against the chair, the chair echoing a large wooden knock...

Jashen's smirk was both cruel and evil as he set tinder to the Lantern wick, lighting the room bright with oil-fed flames. He casually held a crossbow to one hip. His eyes did not show the slightest emotion as he set the lantern down, lowering the crossbow at the same time to be level with Hecathia's chest.


Crispian rolled over on his cot, hand full of steel and eyes full of anger.


"Hecathia, explain yourself," he said in a voice the brought chills of the grave to her spine. "And don't try a break for it. Your leg is injured, the hall way is guarded, and alley is watched." He smiled coldly. "Jashen's bolts are poisoned as well."


He waited with the same calm he felt when on keep ramparts with Midgardians charging. Let her move, even an inch, in the wrong way. His struggles with D'Vena had taught him that sometimes a dead for is the best kind. They had fewer opportunities to strike at you.

 

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Ilara cursed under her breath. 'Blasted brother...' Jashen. The one whom had been retraining his skills... how could she forget Crispian's Twin? Well, to their knowledge, she had taken nothing. The lock on the door was damaged, but she had nothing on her that could cause such damage, and the fact that she could call on her goddess was still unknown to them. She was tempted to send Jashen through the door with such a power, but two things stopped her.


One was his brother... asleep in full plate... and Arcalan would not be pleased if she attacked him since that would lead suspicion to her...


Two was Crispian's words. "And don't try a break for it. Your leg is injured, the hall way is guarded, and alley is watched." Jashen must've heard a disturbance... a disturbance... Crispian was not watching her! He did not know it was her...


"I was walking out of the hall, I was bound to find a healer of some sort to help me with my leg... I bandaged it some myself but I couldn't find anyone to direct me to a healer, so when I came walking back, I heard something. I don't know what I used to do... but that noise alerted me leading me to the back alley. Hecathia extended her hand to the window. I heard something, so I climbed up to look, and found the window damaged. I thought there was a thief in the guild hall... so I came to stop him. I tried luring him out, and then you <looking to Jashen> walked in. Please milords... I awoke heavily injured and in bad shape... I felt my pursuer had come to finish the job and do even more harm! I didn't take anything, I was just trying to help!" she pleaded, thankful that the necklace formed into a key was hidden away.


She looked to Jashen... Jashen... if he searched her, he might find it. But even if he did find it... how could he say it wasn't hers? It wasn't Crispian's... and since she has *amnesia*... if they bought her story... then she wouldn't know where it came from either... 'A clue to my past...' she could hear herself saying now... but first... she had to get past the Pontiff twins...

Crispian flicked his gaze to Jashen, who shook his head slightly.


"First error, coming in here," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Second error, never lie when you don't know what is being done by someone else. Third, you twitch, you move, you blink the wrong way, and you die.


He watched her. It was in her court now, and he had to trust to what he had in place against such a moment. He had not expect this Hecathia to be a traitor, spy, turn-cut, and possibly murderer. However, the reports from the Massacre in Snowdonia, the strange goings on in the League hall, and the many other things being reported in from other sources added up to so much going on.


"And the keys a fake," he added with a last, cruel smirk as he reached down and slid his own cocked and loaded crossbow from under the cot. "Why are you here?"

 

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A web of lies... something Ilara was familiar with. Her whole life was a lie. Her father whom had ruled with an iron fist, treating her well and giving her much ended by her sister, a slave under her father, murdering him in cold blood as Ilara watched. Coming to Camelot... because she then had nowhere else to go, and then her sister leaving her again, saying she wanted to find her father.


Had they seen the shock she gave the window? No, it was impossible she was certain. She had looked around the alley before doing it, and made sure the light produced was a minimal, just needing enough to open the window. The key though, Crispian did not know what the key belonged to. Apolexia seemed to get in trouble so much that she doubt she had told Crispian about her diary... and if the information in that book was what she heard it to be, she would be too afraid to tell Crispian about it anyway.


She realized that she was trapped, if she continued on with her amnesia now, she would be shot. If she came out truthfully, they would know she had decieved them, and she was better off dead knowing Arcalan would not let her live if she could be linked to her. 'Goddess help me' she prayed silently, and the answer was swift. She dropped to her good knee, letting out a scream, the pain in her head swelled, as she toppled over unconscious...

Crispian looked to Jashen quickly then sprang into action. First, he made sure Hecathia was alive. Assuring that, he removed the key and chain from her possession. He inspected her for weapons, removing all he found. Binding her hands carefully, and sliding thin leather sheathes over forefinger and thumb to hold them immobile as well, he hefted her to his cot.


"Get Tobyas and Lynis, please, Tannir," he called into the alcove where his squire had hidden. "Tell them I'll need a litter-wagon for a trip to Saint Ilitad's."


Hecathia at least would be one threat not around. He wondered how the foes of the League would react to her not being there in the morning. Then again, he did not really care if it upset them. They needed to be upset some just about now.


"She needs seclusion, to reflect on the errors of her past," he said calmly to the two churchmen when they arrived. He had briefed both on what they needed to know earlier, so this did not surprise them.


It was barely forty minutes from break-in to the now drugged exit of Hecathia from the League's hall. The wagon creaked south on greased axels, silent burden in the back and watchful guards about.

 

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Arcalan slept uneasily that night.

Her dreams led her back to the night of Betrayal with the Baroness, for that day she had seen Carys again, and hunted with her.

But her dreams were not of the betrayal, or that traitor witch escaping. Her dreams focused on a young girl, she'd seen her in the Arawnite camp as they hunted, she recalled her face and clothes exactly in the dream. This time she stood alone in the camp, only Arcalan and the girl face to face. The raven hair of the girl covered her shoulders, framing a face in which her eyes were set like rubies, full of fire.

"I am coming home" said the girl, simply, but with the weight of prophesy in it.

Arcalan suddenyl found herself transported from the place and images filled her head, a Cauldron bubbling away, the girl rising from it. A stag's head, Melody the Celt, in league with the Baroness, but no this stag was different, she knew who it was. It was a symbol of Arawn, in his guise of the hunter. Now more visions, the servants of Arawn, the Inconnu, whom Arcalan and Ceowyr had helped by pilfering the sacred tomes from the forbidden library, that men may learn the way of Arawn in secret once more.

She awoke suddenly, wondering what it foreshadowed.


In the hall Hecathia was being moved, two priests accompanied her. Perhaps her wounds really were worse than Arcalan had imagined, but the figure of Crispian standing watching her leave made her think that he was just ensuring that Hecathia was well taken care of. All hope of getting that key seemed to vanish as well, and Arcalan resigned herself to having to adapt her plans.


Frustrated she moved to the window to take in some night air, and suddenly she spotted a figure crouched on the rooftop watching her. It was well disguised, but she could make out that it was a little boy, likely one of Tobyas' charges, and she was in no doubt that he spied upon her.

She reminded herself that Tobyas had run up quite a debt in favours from the Shadow Quarter, and that she was owed quite a few favours from the Mercenary captain there. She'd have to see to it Tobyas paid up at the most inconvenient time. As it was her frustrations could be easily settled, she smiled at the boy and unleashed a limb twisting spell, causing him to scream out as his legs warped into unnatural and useless positions. He skittered down the roof, and dropped hanging from on hand and still screaming in pain.

Shouts from below indicated guards were on their way, and Arcalan didn't have long. "ASSASSIN!" she cried out "Help Ho! Help!" and as she did so she unleashed another spell.


The boy dropped from the rooftop as her magic hit him. His flesh burst in many places, and blood streamed from open wounds. A full grown warrior might survive the spell, but a mere urchin would not. As his head cracked onto the cobbled stones of the street a sickening snap saved the lad anymore pain. The spell continued to shed his blood in a pool on the ground beneath him, as guards ran to see what happened.


Crispian burst into her room with Jashen at his side, both ready for battle. She turned to see them and exclaimed "I think I got him! An assassin was by my window, lurking about, but I got him!"

The pained look on Crispian's face told her all she needed to know. She was still being followed, and he didn't trust her one bit more than before the D'Vena event. Well well, she was surprised by his resourcefulness, but he'd now have to negotiate a difficult pretense.


The guards searched the boy in the street, and though he was dressed in rags they found a purse containing a good few gold and silver. They confirmed it was unlikely an assassin, but Arcalan had rid the city of one of it's young thieves and could be commended for that. Crispian was oddly silent while the guards talked with them, and Tobyas appeared to pray over the dead boy. He shot a look of pure and undisguised rage at Arcalan, who was milking the situation as cause for her praise.

"After all, Hecathia had been attacked.. perhaps it was on of the enemies she had talked of trying to finish her. It's sad the boy won't have a chance to mend his ways, it seems Tobyas isn't able to restore his life. Ah well, sometimes justice is swift and merciful, and sometimes it's just swift" she said. Crispian had just had those thoughts surface again in his mind, and he held Arcalan's gaze steady in unforgiving eyes.

He scowled at Arcalan before leaving. She had just murdered some innocent hiding on a rooftop. She could claim what she wanted, but he had taken steps to make sure he was very attuned to magics being worked near him. He'd have to get the report from his infiltrator friends later to get their view on it.


Arcalan had just pushed the ante up again. At least he knew she was jumpy as all get out if she would strike at any roof dweller in a city full of them. He hoped she did not do the same when she saw someone sleeping in a doorway.


He met the guards on the street and got their report of it. Yes, the lad had some serious coin, they told him. He made a mental note to have that checked into although there were many ways to come by coin in the city. He looked about the Hall, satisfied that those doing his spy work were unseen before he returned to the hall.

 

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Beyond the scope of Humans he existed.


Immortal, evelasting and immensly powerful.


He watched the world of men and demi-humans unfold before him, and he made ready to step into that world once more


Long ago he walked the soil, and the tribes cowered at his presence.


He was no demon, he was unique and his powers challenged the authority of Heaven, for he was as a god to motrals.


He had been in the world of flesh once more of late, a foothold in the body of a man called Pompin. Many had flocked to fight him when they knew that he was posessed, but yet they knew not the force they faced.


Though he had been repelled by the Clerics of the Nailed God, yet he had learnt much, done much. Many of his foes that day now screamed in torment in Darkness Falls, their souls torn by his curse, nevermore to return to Albion.


He had planted the seeds that would grow into his victory, and had learnt no mortal body could sustain him now. He needed a new form.


Arcalan stood facing Crispian, and beyond the veil of time and space, her Master watched his faithful servant. She had in her the power to open a gateway for him once more, and the many faithful who awaited him would prepare his way.


The time of Rebirth was near.