The summer air was hot and damp in the forested wetlands of the northeastern frontier of Heran. The Gemini Legions had failed to stop Emperor Gaius’s madness before it could get out of hand. They had been too late to save the emperor’s family. The emperor himself was gone. Reinforcements from the main body of the legions were late, and the cohorts that had marched ahead with the cavalry found themselves in a desperate last stand.

Legate Falco used his shield to cover his body as he pulled himself out from under his fallen horse. His sword was a longer design, intended for use by cavalry, and its single-piece bone grip was slick with blood. More spattered his cuirass, which was made of overlapping bands, and the arm guard made in a similar manner down his arm. One of the strips of his leather kirtle caught on the saddle, and he let his sword go so that he could free himself. He was a tall, muscular man with penetrating brown eyes. Part of his helmet’s long, red and black horsehair crest had been cut away early in the battle. He reached for a second sword strapped to his saddle skirt as one of the creatures that Gaius had summoned leaped at him.

The creature was twisted in its appearance with pointed ears and fierce, golden eyes. It wore a maille shirt, and its other clothes were a mixture of grays and browns. Its skin was the color of rotting bark and seemed to fit the creature wrong. Arrows streaked from the woodline to his rear to bury themselves in the creature’s chest. It toppled onto Falco’s sword as he managed to raise the blade to defend himself. Black blood oozed from the creature’s wounds and onto Falco’s hand as the sword sank to the hilt in its chest.

Falco heaved the creature aside, wiped off his hand and the hilt of his sword, and dragged himself the rest of the way out from under his horse. He tried to stand and cried out, falling to the ground. His leg was broken, and the ankle was twisted wrong. He panted as he pulled himself back toward the woodline. More of the creatures were coming behind their fallen comrade, some of them falling to arrows largely indistinguishable between the legion and the elves who called themselves Thunarrin.

Falco’s relief was the measured tread of a quick march as the rest of the Gemini Legions finally arrived. Two lines of legionnaires stopped between Falco and the creatures charging him. The front rank formed a wall with their rectangular shields while a legionnaire with the long, red crest of Falco’s second-in-command dropped his shield, seized Falco’s cuirass, and began dragging him back toward the woodline. “Lucius,” Falco breathed. “By the gods, I’ve never been happier to see friendly faces.”

Lucius grinned as he continued hauling Falco away from the battle. “Well, it’s almost over, thank the gods,” he replied.

Falco looked around. The pain in his leg made it difficult to think, but it looked like Lucius was right. The battle was being fought around a ring of stone columns with stone slabs along their tops. A kind of stone altar sat in the center, looking like nothing more than a large, rectangular stone slab set atop a cube of stone. The charred remains of what had been a girl lay in a twisted wreck on the altar, what remained of her chest having been broken open before she was burned.

Emperor Gaius’s banner was nowhere to be seen, most of his guards had surrendered, and only three pockets of his creatures were still fighting. A maille-shirted and green-vested contingent of the Thunarrin elves was engaged with one such of the last pockets, while the other two threw themselves hopelessly against legion shield walls.

Falco watched as one formation of legionnaires brought the creatures’ momentum to a halt. They opened their shields only wide enough to thrust short swords through, and the front rank of the creatures fell, even as the shields were lugged back into a wall. The legion advanced, and repeated the process methodically, the rear ranks polishing off any wounded left behind. The legions and the elves surrounded and systematically butchered the last pocket of the creatures. The battle was over, and, more than likely, so was Falco’s military career.

Lucius propped Falco up against a stunted willow. “Let’s get a look at the damage,” he said calmly as he began unbuckling the dented greave on Falco’s right leg.

Falco hissed as Lucius carefully removed the greave and used his dagger to cut away Falco’s trouser leg below the knee. Falco let loose a string of curses. The bone of his shin protruded through an open wound in his leg.

Lucius shook his head. “We’ll need to get physicians to set this,” he told Falco gravely.

Falco nodded. He was pale and sweating, and a sort of distant feeling began setting in. He absently removed his helmet and started on the laces of his banded cuirass until Lucius stopped him. He looked up, and Lucius motioned with his head. Falco rolled his head to look in the direction Lucius had motioned to see three women rushing over.

Two of the women were elves. One wore hooded robes, with the cowl thrown back. Auburn hair spilled down her back, she looked about with wary blue eyes, and she carried a leather bag in one slender hand. The second was dressed in the uniform of the Thunarrin: maille shirt, green doeskin vest, and brown doeskin breeches tucked into a pair of sturdy boots. She had blonde hair hanging to her hips in a braid, and serious, green eyes.

The third woman was Falco’s wife, Iulia, and she held his attention. Her fiery, red hair hung in an intricate braid over her shoulder, and he could see the worry in her gray eyes. A gold-trimmed rosewood box protruded from her satchel. She rushed to Falco, knelt next to him, and took his hand. “The woman in the robes is one of their priestesses,” she told Falco gravely. “She has some skill in medicine.”

Falco nodded and leaned his head back against the tree. “You have the Aos Si’s gift, Iulia,” he asked her.

Iulia nodded. “It’s here,” she told him, patting the rosewood box with her free hand. “Aislana has a plan.”

Falco looked up as the blonde elf stopped, grimacing down at his leg. He shook his head. “I’m probably going to lose the leg,” he told Iulia gravely.

The blonde elf sniffed. “Among your own physicians, yes,” she told him in a lilting accent. “But, not among the Thunarrin.”

“What do you mean, Aislana,” Iulia asked the blonde elf.

Aislana shook her head. “I mean no offense, but your magicians largely turn their use of the Craft to destructive and frivolous pursuits,” she told them. “Ours are much less averse to using the Craft to heal wounds, when necessary. You may have some lasting effects, but you’ll keep the leg at least.”

Falco nodded.

“We need to get him out of his lorica,” Aislana told Lucius.

Lucius nodded. He and Iulia removed Falco’s belt and kirtle, then began unlacing and unbuckling his armor. They leaned him forward and Lucius pulled the armor off of Falco’s back and set it aside.

The robed woman knelt next to Falco and produced a vial from her bag. She said something that Falco didn’t understand as she held the vial out to him. Falco stared at her.

“She says to drink it,” Aislana supplied.

Falco hesitantly took the vial and unstopped it.

Lucius was looking skeptically at the vial.

“It’s for pain,” Aislana explained. “It will numb his wits and make him sleepy. Most importantly, though, it will make the process of setting bone and putting the ankle in its proper place bearable.”

Falco drank the liquid in the vial.

The priestess watched Falco as he began to stare at the world around him. “I don’t think it’s doing anything,” he slurred.

The priestess raised an eyebrow as Aislana translated. The priestess asked something.

“Do you still feel pain,” Aislana asked Falco.

Falco blinked. “I don’t really feel anything,” he replied.

Aislana nodded to the priestess. The priestess looked meaningfully at Falco. “He’s not going to want to watch this,” Aislana told Lucius.

Lucius removed Falco’s helmet and covered his eyes. Falco didn’t see what the priestess did and was only dimly aware of the priestess moving his leg and foot around. When Lucius moved his hand, Falco saw that the bone no longer protruded from the skin.

The priestess looked at Aislana and Lucius, and she said something. “Hold him down,” Aislana translated.

Falco blinked.

Lucius and Iulia held Falco’s arms and shoulders while Aislana pinned down one of his legs. The priestess put a knee on Falco’s thigh and laid her hands on the broken bone. At first, Falco only felt a warmth in the broken bone, then the pain rushed through him. Falco gasped and arched his back, pulling Iulia against his shoulders. He tried to scream, but his breath caught, and it came out as a whimper as the pain died away. Falco’s chest heaved, and even the effects of the medicine the priestess had given him for the pain had faded. He looked down at his leg and shook his head. Only a purple scar remained. “Gods. That was,” he breathed and left the sentence hanging.

“It’s painful,” Aislana agreed. “I know.”

The priestess sighed wearily and said something to Aislana.

Aislana looked at Falco. “She says you need to stand so she can make sure everything healed straight,” she told him. “Don’t worry, it’ll bear the weight. Your leg is going to hurt for a few days, and you need to eat more. Eat extra dairy and, of course, plenty of meat. You need to replenish what your body used here.”

Falco nodded and allowed Iulia and Lucius to help him up. His leg ached, but he was able to stand and walk around on it, leaning on his wife and his second-in-command. He frowned down at his battered greave. “I’ll have to get an armorer to fix that,” he remarked.

Lucius nodded. “That, you will,” he replied.

Falco gradually stood on his own and faced the priestess. “Thank you,” he told her.

The priestess inclined her head, smiled, and said something.

Aislana smiled. “She says it’s no trouble,” she told Falco.

Falco chuckled and looked at Aislana gravely. “What do we do with the Aos Si’s Gift now,” he asked her. “We can’t have a thing like that running around in the world if we’re not going to use it.”

Lucius frowned. “We could seal it away in Ostantium until the time comes,” he suggested.

Aislana shook her head. “No, I don’t think that’s wise,” she replied.

The priestess raised an eyebrow at Aislana. The blonde elf filled the priestess in, and the priestess shook her head. The two conversed briefly in Elvish, before Aislana sighed and shook her head. She said something in a resigned tone and winced when the priestess said something in a tone that sounded like a rebuke. Then, Aislana turned to Falco. “We may have a plan,” she said in a distant voice.

Iulia grimaced, looking around. “On the road, you mentioned some-thing about a stone table being useful only once for the worst possible thing,” she remarked. “Does your plan have something to do with that?”

Aislana grimaced. “Yes,” she recalled and sighed. “What Gaius made a pact with will not allow him to return to it now that he’s used it. It’s a dirty trick that the denizens of the underworld pull: return here to rescind the bargain, but you can’t return here ever.”

Iulia was frowning at the table. “You want to hide it here, don’t you,” she asked. “Is that why the two of you were arguing?”

Aislana nodded at Iulia.

“That will work,” a woman’s voice said.

The five looked up to see a woman approaching them. Her features were longer and more angular than human or elf, and her skin was so pale as to be almost white. She had snowy white hair hanging in a braid down her back and regarded them with pale blue eyes. She was tall and lean rather than thin. Her gray gown fit her frame and seemed to swirl about her ankles. She wore a cylindrical case hanging from a leather strap around her shoulders. “Although, it may make it impossible for us to complete our arrangement,” she mused. “Whatever shall I do about it?”

“Aos Si Gheimhridh,” Aislana said with a stiff bow.

“Aislana,” Gheimhridh replied coolly.

“Why have you come here,” Aislana asked.

Gheimhridh feigned shock. “Why, to see to the terms of our bargain, of course,” the Aos Si replied.

Falco shook his head. “So, we can conceal the Aos Si’s Gift here, then,” he said. “I’ll get someone to start digging.”

Gheimhridh sighed. “No, that won’t do,” she told Falco. “It needs to be a little more obvious than that, and Aislana is right about one thing. When Gaius sealed his deal with his daughter’s life, he was granted a glimpse of the Fates’ weave which he will not be capable of forgetting. The existence of our gift is a threat to him, though the danger is in its manner of use and by whom rather than any direct danger to him. He needs to lick his wounds, but he will seek to destroy it the moment he recovers. At the very least, he will do everything in his power to assure that it is never used.”

Falco watched the Aos Si warily. “What then do you suggest, Gheimhridh,” he asked her.

Gheimhridh shrugged. “Make a space for it in the base of that…thing,” she said, pointing at the stone table.

Falco shook his head.

“That could take a while,” Iulia remarked.

Aislana shrugged. “Not as long as you might think,” she told them. “Give me a moment to think about this.”

Iulia handed her satchel with the rosewood box to Falco. Then, Falco and Lucius followed Aislana toward the stone table. Iulia remained behind. She had no desire to look at what was left of her husband’s niece still chained to the table. Falco shook his head. The charred and twisted remains of his niece still hadn’t been cleared from the stone table. “Lucius,” he said. “Bring up a burial detail for my brother’s daughter.”

Lucius saluted and jogged off.

Aislana gave Falco a sympathetic look. “I am sorry we weren’t fast enough,” she told him.

Falco shook his head. “When Gaius sets his mind to something, he tends to find a way,” he replied. “I’m sure this fits in with what the gods desire in some way.”

Aislana nodded. She felt around the base of the table. She placed a hand on the table and went quiet. The stone began to shift, and a slab a little a hand’s length high, two hand’s lengths wide, and a hand’s breadth deep fell away. Powdered stone sifted out from behind it. Aislana slumped over. Falco grimaced and cleared the remaining powder from an alcove that had formed in the stone, large enough for the rosewood box containing the Aos Si’s gift. “Put it in there,” Aislana told Falco.

Falco placed the rosewood case from the satchel Iulia had given him into the alcove. He then picked up the slab and set it into place. It settled in with an audible click. An image bearing a man and two women speaking to a dozen women in front of an oak tree was carved into the slab’s face. Falco stood and helped Aislana to her feet. He took one last look at his niece’s remains. “I think I’m going to make killing Gaius my life’s work,” he grated.

Aislana sighed sadly. “He’ll come to you before long,” she told Falco.

Falco nodded and stalked away from the table as the burial detail arrived. Gheimhridh smiled when he and Aislana stopped in front of her. “That, then, is done,” she told them as she took the case off and handed it to Aislana. “You will need to hold onto this. I’ll tell you what to do with it later.”

Aislana nodded.

Gheimhridh looked gravely at Falco and Iulia. Then, she turned and walked away. A soldier walked past as though he didn’t see her, and she was gone.

Falco stared across the field. He knew that Aislana was right. It wouldn’t be long before his brother came for him.