through the shaft of the last arrow, its tip embedded deeply in the barbarian's hip. They could not dare to try to extract it, not without gemstone magic assistance, but at least now the whole of it was contained within the man.
Another hour passed, and Bruinhelde seemed to be resting more comfortably. He even opened one eye, to find Agronguerre close to him.
'It hurts,' the abbot remarked, and Bruinhelde gave a slight nod.
'Good Bruinhelde, I offer this only in the truest sense of friendship,' Agronguerre said, and he held the soul stone up before the barbarian's blue eyes.
And those eyes widened-in horror, it seemed to Dellman. Bruinhelde's breath came in rasps and he shook his head violently, though every movement seemed to pain him greatly.
'Then we'll not!' Abbot Agronguerre assured him, grabbing him to hold him steady. 'Only on your word would we ever presume such a thing. Fear not!' He knew that Bruinhelde was only partially understanding him, but the man seemed to relax somewhat.
Soon, Bruinhelde was asleep.
At Agronguerre's bidding, Brother Dellman went to the barbarian council tent to inform them of the progress. When he arrived, he found an embarrassed Midalis holding a flag, the pennant of Bretherford, Duke of the Mirianic, his brother's naval commander.
'It was indeed the same ship we chased across the gulf,' Captain Al'u'met explained. 'An Ursal ship, no doubt, likely fresh out ofPalmaris.'
'How can this be, Brother Dellman? ' Midalis asked, and the monk swallowed hard. On his way over, he had passed the lines of powrie bodies stretched on the beach, and he was fairly certain that he recognized at least one of the dwarves, an orange-bearded creature he had seen on a misty morning, taken prisoner in the last Palmaris battle, from the western fields.
'Duke Kalas,' he remarked, and all eyes turned his way. He started to tell the tale of the fight that long-ago morning, and of the Duke and his brilliant Allheart knights marching the powries in from the field.
'An escape from the Palmaris dungeons?' Prince Midalis asked incredulously.
That notion seemed like the only possible answer; and yet, it, too, seemed impossible. How could a small band of powries break out of the fortress known as Chasewind Manor and somehow commandeer a sailing ship out of Palmaris' busy and well-guarded port?
Then it hit Dellman, like a slap in the face. Why hadn't he and Al'u'met heard of any such escape, or theft of a ship, before they left, since the powries had obviously sailed out just ahead of them? And even beyond that, why hadn't the powries been summarily executed after the battle on the western fields, as had been announced and would certainly have been proper?
And why, Dellman wondered-and he wondered, too, why he hadn't thought of this those many weeks before-hadn't any of the AUheart knights been even slightly injured in that fight? They were great warriors, to be sure, perhaps the best in Honce-the-Bear, but the powrie numbers had been much greater that day-so proclaimed the victorious Duke-and that battlefield hadn't even been prepared properly.
'No escape,' Dellman blurted, shaking his head incredulously, for the alternative stuck in his throat. He started to go on, to admit his suspicions that these particular powries had been in league with Duke Kalas, but he looked at the Prince standing before him, and then at the barbarians hanging on his every word, and wisely changed-his mind.
'No escape from the dungeons,' he said with clear conviction. 'Likely these dwarves were being transported- back to Ursal, I would presumefor proper execution or interrogation, when they overwhelmed the crew of the ship and turned her back for the open waters.'
Andacanavar promptly translated, and the other Alpinadorans nodded their agreement. When the young brother looked back to his own countrymen, though-particularly at Midalis and Al'u'met, he saw the obvious doubts shadowing their expressions.
Al'u'met spoke those concerns clearly on the return journey to the Vanguardsmen encampment. 'We would have heard of any transport of prisoners,' he reasoned. 'Duke Kalas would have made a grand spectacle of it, an occasion for furthering his own glory.'
'You do not speak as one enamored of the Duke of Wester-Honce,' Prince Midalis said with a chuckle.
'I heard many recountings of his return to the city with his prisoners,' Al'u'met argued. 'If these were indeed the same dwarves, and they were being taken out of Palmaris, then Duke Kalas would have done so with fanfare.'
'Fair enough,' the Prince replied. 'Then they did escape from the dungeons of Palmaris.'
'Or they were released,' Brother Dellman remarked. 'An agreement between the Duke and the powrie leader? '
'You have reason to believe this? ' Midalis asked sharply.
'Duke Kalas has been a friend to King Danube, the Prince's own brother, for all their lives,' Liam O'Blythe said to Dellman, a clear warning to the man to take care with his words.
'A prisoner exchange, perhaps,' Dellman remarked. 'Whatever the case, I cannot dismiss my suspicions that if these powries sailed out of Palmaris, they did so under the guidance of the Duke or one of his highranking associates.'
Midalis mulled that blunt statement over for a moment, then nodded. ' I know not if I agree with your assessment, Brother Dellman, but I am glad that you did not speak of such possibilities in the presence of our barbarian friends. Andacanavar, and particularly Bruinhelde, have a much simpler understanding of how to deal with these monsters. One does not parlay with powries or goblins or giants. One kills them and moves on to the next.'
'I am not sure that I disagree with that philosophy,' Dellman remarked.
'But we do know that the world is a much more complicated place than that,' Midalis went on. But though he spoke the words firmly, it seemed obvious to Dellman that he wasn't thrilled at the possibility that one of his brother's closest advisers and friends, the commander of the most elite force in the Honce-the-Bear military, was somehow in league with bloody caps. 'If your suspicions have grounds, then I am certain that Duke Kalas had his reasons, and that those reasons were to the benefit of the kingdom,' Prince Midalis finished.
To the benefit of the kingdom over the benefit of the Church? Brother Dellman wondered, for he remembered well how much Duke Kalas had gained in popularity after that saving battle on Palmaris' western fields and how well Kalas had then used his popularity against Abbot Braumin in their constant squabbles.
Midalis and his soldiers, Al'u'met and his crew, Agronguerre and the brothers of St. Belfour, and Andacanavar and the Alpinadorans kept a solemn vigil over Bruinhelde for the next few days.
And then, one quiet afternoon, the barbarian leader came out of the tent, limping badly but with the same determined expression that had earned him the position of respect among his clansmen.
Once again, Brother Dellman was reminded of how wisely Abbot Agronguerre had chosen, for Bruinhelde made a point of going to the old monk and warmly clasping his hand. Agronguerre had been spoken of as a potential healer for the wounded Church, and it seemed to Dellman as if they could not have found a better candidate.
The Alpinadorans hosted a great mead hall celebration that night-it never ceased to amaze the Vanguardsmen just how much of the drink these men could carry around with them!
All were in attendance, a night without tension, as Bruinhelde made a point of dismissing any thoughts of blame against Al'u'met or his men. Brother Dellman, like everyone else in attendance, drank heartily, and it seemed to him as if his mug was more quickly filled-by both Brother Haney and Liam O'Blythe-than any of the others. He thought little of it, though, just enjoyed the drink; and by the time Liam and Haney came to him and took him by the arms, explaining that he looked as if he needed a walk in the nighttime air, the young brother was in no condition to argue.
They brought him out and walked him along the beach, down to the shore, and there they remained for a long time, as the moon Sheila made her slow pass overhead and the roars of laughter and cheers from the mead hall gradually diminished.
Leaning on the powrie boat, Dellman started to nod off, but then awakened, harshly, as Liam O'Blythe splashed a mug full of cold seawater in his face.
'What?' the monk sputtered.
'We know that ye came out to tell us o' the College,' Brother Haney began, and only then did Dellman begin
