Alrighty, now that I have cleared a few of the new stories from my queue, I present another installment of The Wolf and the Rose for your reading pelasure.  I hope you enjoy it.

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            Silence.  For the first time since the beginning of the council, only silence filled the amphitheater.  I was standing on the lowest step, my grey cloak concealing the fact that my hand had strayed once more to the medallion I wore, the warm metal of the sun cross comforting as I clutched at it.  The second morning of the Great Council had begun much as the first day had, with groups arguing with each other as if the revelations of the day before hadn’t even happened.  But, as the arguments had continued in their wearying way, I began to sense something else, an undercurrent in the words of everyone present.  By the time the sun had climbed to its height once more, and the noon hour approached, I had finally discerned what it was, the carefully hidden note of scent that permeated the air.  Everyone, every speaker, was, if not afraid, then apprehensive; none wished to bring up the momentous subject of the fountain, and what might need to be done about it.  But now, the Elder Slayer had risen in his place, pounding the hilt of his sword onto the table in front of him, solemnly holding up a hand for quiet.

            “Friends, our time is short.” He said, his voice ringing through the tiers of seats, almost echoing in the silence.  It was as if the whole world had taken a deep breath and now held it, waiting.  “Every hour we waste in minor arguments, the Demon Lords may draw nearer to their goal.  Let us lay aside our individual concerns and turn to the matter at hand.”  And again, silence greeted his words.  No one seemed willing to talk.  Finally, the Ovate stood, resting her hands gently on the table before her, palms down.

            “May I have leave to speak, Elder Slayer?” She asked, and he nodded, returning to his seat, all eyes turning towards her.  “Yesterday, this council agreed that we must send some to find the fountain if they can, and protect it.  Toward that end, the followers of Alarand are agreed; Though the fountain is of Auré, and not our own goddess, we will not turn a deaf ear to our brothers and sisters.  Whomever else is sent, Priests of Alarand will go, and warriors of the Chosen will protect them.”

            “And we too shall go.” The Great Hand stated from where he sat.  “Ours is the way of healing, not of war, but this is a task for all the forces of good.”  Murmurs of approval seemed to pass in a wave around the amphitheater at the unity displayed by the orders of the Three, though it seemed to go without saying that the bulk of the group sent would be Slayers and the priests of the Sun God.  And that was probably a fair assumption.  The High Priest of Auré who spoke for that order seemed about to speak, when, to everyone’s surprise, Councilman Danos rose in his seat instead, raising a hand to draw attention to himself.

            “Before this goes further, there is a concern we must address.” He said loudly, and I noticed my father eyeing him with suspicion, his body tensing up, ready to rise in his turn if he had to. “As much as we might wish to, as wise a course as it might seem, we cannot send an army after this…lost treasure.”

            “Perhaps you could expound upon your point, Councilman?” The Lord of the Lance asked into the heavy silence that followed that remark, tapping his fingertips thoughtfully on the table top in front of him while quiet murmurs of angry descent flowed through the gathering.

            “Certainly.” Danos said, seeming to be warming to his point. “In the course of our long war, we demon hunters have all learned one thing.  The Demon Lords are not fools.  They are patient, they are cunning, and every plan they make has dozens of others behind it.  Even if we knew exactly where the fabled fountain was, and I remind you, of that we have only a vague idea, we could no more send a large force to claim it than we could call down the gods themselves to protect it.  Sending every Slayer we can muster, and every priest we can gather, would leave us vulnerable, not just here, but everywhere else.  Even now, we take a great risk by concentrating such a force for the protection of this council.  Indeed, that may be exactly what the Dark Gods are waiting for, and the moment such an army was out in the wilds, they would unleash the full force of their hordes against our strongholds and temples.” He paused to let his words sink in, then continued.  “And even if they do not strike, there would be no greater means to show them exactly where our treasure lies than to send such a force to claim it.”

            “You do have a point, Councilman Danos.” My father stated to both my surprise and that of Danos, rising from his chair to talk. “But the force we send, must not be so weak that they could be overcome easily.”  When my father looked across the amphitheater, right at me, I understood exactly what he was about to suggest, and I winced inwardly.  Somehow, though it had been my fervent hope that someone else might be asked to go, and my mate and I could return to the life we had led in our journeys together, I had known all along somehow that this was going to be what was going to happen.  “Therefore, we should send our best, our most elite few, to lend their strength to the effort.  The Order of Hunters, those that guard us even now, should be sent, along with whatever Priests we deem must go.”

            “And who would lead them, they who stand outside the chain of command?” Danos asked, a challenge in his voice, glaring daggers across at me, as if daring me to put myself forward for that task, werewolf though I was.

            It really did show how little he understood of me, or any of the Hunters for that matter.  If any one of us had desired leadership, we would have earned our white cloaks long ago.  But, as he glared, I detected something else in his gaze, a cold, wild light of suspicion and fear, strong enough to border on paranoia.  And then it hit me, exactly why he had singled me out for his ire, out of all the Hunters.  I was the only one of my family not to bear the title of Master Hunter, and yet the one living Slayer whose deeds had been unmatched in the histories of our order.  No one had ever done what I had done in the last twenty years, and in his state of mind, so twisted up in dislike and suspicion of my family and our way of doing things, it was inevitable that I would seek the glory of the rank of Master Hunter.  And if I put myself forward to lead this expedition, no one would rightly deny me, and my promotion would be assured, with all the additional influence that would come with it.  Merely that he thought I would be so conniving turned my stomach, and I resisted the urge to growl, the wolf spirit in my mind growing angry in its turn.  But I needn’t have bothered feeling indignant.

            “I will.” My father stated calmly and all eyes suddenly snapped to his face.  “And my sons will go with me as subordinate commanders.”  When his announcement was met with incredulity by everyone present, he continued, looking proud. “The Galnikin family has held the line against the darkness for uncounted generations, since the Slayers of Auré were founded.  We are proud to do so again.”  And in that instant, I knew immediately what he was doing.  By volunteering to take himself out of the council, he was giving Danos the golden opportunity to do what he was planning.  But, by reminding everyone of our lineage, and thus making the mission a familial duty, he was offering a bait that Danos could not resist.  As most of the council, including the Elder Slayer nodded in approval, I saw the expression on Danos’ face twist from one emotion to another as he thought it through.  If the entire Galnikin line went on this mission, they would not be here to interfere with his plans, whatever they were.  But, if we succeeded in this near-impossible task, and the members of our family had an annoying habit of doing just that, we would all be lauded as heroes, and we would be lent so much support that Danos’ ambitions would crumble in an instant.  There really was only one choice for him, if he wanted any chance of pursuing his ambitions.  A moment later, I saw him scowl and knew at once he was going to swallow the bait like a fish.

            “A valiant offer, indeed, Councilman Galnikin.” He began, looking at my father with what seemed to be a knowing expression, carefully hidden.  “But the ruling council cannot be left with an even number of members, and I cannot in good conscience allow such a valuable asset of the order to go into harm’s way alone.  I will go as well, with a like number of Master Hunters to support the priests.”  Looking over to where my mate sat among the priests of Auré, I made a face, a gesture that she returned with matching disgust.  Neither of us liked the maneuvering that was going on, but then again, neither of us could do anything about it.

            “Very well.” The Elder Slayer said, looking at his two subordinates with an unreadable expression on his face. “That is fair enough.  I would suggest, High Priest, that the number of priests sent along be likewise small in number, but not weak in strength or experience.  Now, for the rest who are to accompany our group…”  Even as the High Priest of Solaria nodded in agreement, the Lord of the Lance broke into the discussion.

            “Yes, yes, all very well.” He said, waving a hand through the air. “I would expect no greater display of unity and willingness to go into danger from the followers of Auré.  But as for who else will go, I am afraid I must state, unequivocally, that none of my Lancers will accompany you on this hair-brained quest.”  At the shocked expressions around the council, he continued.  “The Nightlancers were founded after the same battle as your order, Elder Slayer.  But while you bow before Auré, we follow no one god.  Thus, if the Demons should succeed, and capture the fountain, what would change for our circumstances?  We would fight on as we always have done.  We stand alone, not in the shadow of any God, not even the Sun.”  There was an angry murmur among the Slayers and Chosen, but it was cut off by the Elder Slayer rising from his seat once more, nodding slightly.

            “Such is your right, Lord of the Lance.” He said, his expression unreadable.  “As it always has been.” Looking around the circle of the Council, he continued, looking at each of the neutral orders in turn.  “Let none here feel obligated to send their own on this quest.  I feel, as the Tanser so stated, that the outcome of this quest affects us all, but the task is ours.  I will not ask any others to come with us.”  There was a ripple of murmuring around the circle as the heads of the orders all considered what they would do, but before anyone could continue, the Lord of the Lance and his retinue rose from their seats and the man spoke up once more.

            “Since that is the matter that called this council together, with your permission Elder Slayer, I and my lancers will take our leave.” He said giving a bow.  When the leader of the Slayer council nodded his assent, the Lancers began filing out of the amphitheater in their leader’s wake.  While they were walking out, the leader of the Kuor rose from his place, setting his legs wide apart and posting his fists on his hips.

            “You spoke truly, Elder Slayer, when you said that the group going must be small, but strong.  Though others may be unwilling,” He said, casting a scathing glance in the direction of the Nightlancers,  “I for one will never let it be said that the Kuor were found unwilling to provide strength when it was asked for.  We stand with you in this endeavor, whatever may come.”

            Now the mutterings that swirled around the amphitheater were louder, and in the case of both the Targath and the Serid, much more heated as the implied challenge of the Kuor’s words sunk in.  I could see the ranking members of each delegation leaning forward to speak to their representative, and many of the lesser members speaking together in a steadily growing roar.  At the rising hubbub, I could feel my hackles standing to attention, the wolf spirit within pacing restlessly.  The plethora of voices was overwhelming to my enhanced hearing and I shifted on my feet, my hands straying to the hilts of weapons.  Fortunately I wasn’t the only one to feel unsettled by this.  Every Hunter in the amphitheater was disturbed, moving restlessly, and Julianna had her hands clasped tight in front of her, clenching them so hard her arms were quaking.  She caught my gaze after a moment and gave a weak smile that I shared.  Then, even as I contemplated stepping out of the amphitheater until things calmed down a bit, something drew my attention.  A Slayer in the silver overtunic of the Argent Guard was jogging down the stairs, heading for the seat of the Elder Slayer, one hand clasped closed as if holding something small.

            When the man reached the Elder, he leaned in, whispering in his ear.  The Elder Slayer looked at the man in surprise after a moment, then, when the guard repeated his words, the Elder looked around for a moment, then stared directly at me.  He looked at me in a contemplative way for a moment, then beckoned with one hand.  Swallowing nervously, the wolf in my heart urging caution in its wordless way, I hurried around the lower ring to his side.  When I was within ear shot, the Elder waved to the guard who began to speak.

            “Hunter Galen.” He began, “There is a rider at the gate to the hold who has asked to speak to you, by name.” That set me back a step.  Of all the Slayers in the Hold, this mysterious rider wanted to talk to me?  I wasn’t exactly well known outside of the order, not like the Master Hunters and the Council, despite what I had done of late.

            “Did this stranger say why?” I inquired and the Guardsman shook his head.

            “He said he would speak of his errand to you and only you.” He replied and when I frowned, confused, he held out his hand, palm up and continued.  “He said I was show you this, so you would understand the seriousness of what he has to say.”  When he opened his hand and revealed what he held, the Elder Slayer recoiled in surprise, but I managed to refrain from doing the same, though only just.  In the man’s palm was a silver signet ring, emblazoned with an onyx inlay of the same charging horseman as the Nightlancers.  But surrounding the black lancer was a set of nine perfectly round topaz, exquisitely cut by a jeweler.  It was a symbol that every demon hunter recognized, and none trusted.

            “Shall we send him away, Elder?” The guardsman asked and the Elder looked at the ring  in silence for a few heartbeats, then looked up at me.

            “It is up to you,  Hunter.” He finally said and I considered telling the guardsman to do just that.  But, the messenger at the gate had been right.  The soldiers of the Nine Sons were attacked on sight by the Nightlancers, and they were never welcomed by the members of the other orders either.  Which meant that if he risked coming here, to a gathering of so many who wished them dead, then his message must have been very important.  And I had to admit, I was interested to know why they had come to meet with me.

            “No, I will see this messenger.”  I finally said, then my eyes were drawn to the ranks of the Nightlancers who were still filing out of the amphitheater.  “Though I think it would be best if we hurried.  If the Nightlancers see him, there will be trouble, even here in the Hold.  With your permission Elder?”

            “Yes, go.” He said, returning his gaze to the council as the speaker for the Targath stood, raising his hand for recognition.  Giving a slight bow, I followed the Guardsman as he moved swiftly back up the stairs, outpacing the milling Nightlancers easily.  When we reached the top of the stairs and turned towards the gate that would lead back out into the town, I felt a familiar comforting presence behind me and instinctually slowed my pace for a few strides, allowing my mate to draw even with me.  At her questioning expression, I shook my head, gesturing with my eyes to the leather clad warriors that were filing out in the same direction as us.  Julianna nodded her understanding and kept pace as we jogged along through the arch where the guardsman waited, making no comment on the presence of my mate.

            Out in the open courtyard once more, we could move even faster, and we easily passed the Lord of the Lance and his captains, who were walking with their heads held proudly, studiously ignoring us as we ran past.  Once we were out of the Hold itself and out of sight of the Lancers, we were at last able to slow down and I explained the situation to my lover.

            “Why haven’t I ever heard of the Nine Sons?” She asked finally, when I had finished explaining about the ring and why I was going to meet this stranger.  “If they are so distrusted, wouldn’t it be more widely known?”

            “Well, perhaps.” I replied.  “But the truth is, not much is known about them for sure.”  At her surprised expression, I continued.  “The Nine Sons of Aerid Thorne were once one of the larger battalions of Nightlancers, commanded by Lord Aerid Thorne.  As the story goes, Thorne was a fierce warrior, and a very good commander, someone that the demons feared, and rightly so, for he seemed invincible, surviving battle after battle for decades.  But, if he had one weakness, it was for women, and he had sired quite a brood of illegitimate children over the years.  But, all in all, he was a good man, taking in as many of them as he could, and seeing that they were provided for.  His nine eldest sons all became captains in his battalion, and many of his other children were lesser officers.  Then, one day, Thorne fell in love with an especially enchanting woman, and she traveled with the battalion for almost a year, longer than most.  Then, one morning, his sons found him dead in his tent, his lover long gone.  And that, is where the stories start to vary.  Some say that the woman had found out how many others Aerid had taken to his bed over the years, and killed him in a jealous rage.  Others claim that she was a demon in disguise, or else in league with them.  Whatever is the truth, the nine captains swore revenge on her and led their entire battalion on a hunt for her.  Their hunt lasted for years, and finally the other Battalions called on them to stop it, and tried to install another Lord in command of Thorne’s battalion.  But, the captains refused, and continued their quest anyway.”

            “So why are they distrusted?” Julianna inquired as we paused at a busy intersection for a file of carts to go by.  “That hardly seems like enough to make the Nightlancers want to kill them on sight.”

            “Well, something happened after that, something bad enough that the Lords unanimously declared them enemies of the order, and sent a proclamation to the other orders of demon hunters, saying that they were not to be trusted or aided.” I explained, taking the opportunity provided by a slower cart to dart through the line with the guard and my mate.  “And over the century or so since then, they have gained a reputation for behaving very unpredictably, as if they were driven by some overriding purpose.”

            “What could have possibly happened to make the Lords so angry?” my mate asked and I shrugged.

            “No one knows.  It has never been done before, or since.” I replied, smiling at finally seeing the high gates.  As we came closer, I noticed a small knot of white clad Slayers to one side of the gate, another man between them.  Despite the heat of the day, the man was wearing a nondescript brown traveling cloak with the hood pulled up over his head, hiding his face.  If not for that detail, I wouldn’t have given him a second glance.  When he saw us coming though, he brought his hands out from where they were concealed within the cloak, revealing leather gauntlets and what looked like a coat of mail covering his arms, a true oddity when one considered that armor was almost useless against demons.

            “You can only be Hunter Galen Galnikin.” The man said, his voice betraying that he couldn’t be older than twenty five.  “Thank you for seeing me.”

            “And you are?” I asked, coming to a halt a pace or two from him, my right hand resting on the hilt of my fighting dagger, ready to draw it.  I was curious by why he had asked for me, but my decades of fighting the demons had made me more than a little suspicious.

            “First Lancer Jalace, 3^rd company of the Nine Sons.” He replied, reaching into a pouch at his waist and taking out a jade scroll case.  “I was sent by the Captains to deliver this into your hands only.”

            “Alright.” I said, reaching out and taking the case.  It was weathered, but well made, and the symbol of the Nine Sons had been carved into both it and the cap, which was sealed with what I recognized as a mixture of jade powder and wax.  Giving the latter a quick twist with my hands, breaking the wax that had sealed it, I popped it off and slid the scroll inside out into my hands.  I had expected simple parchment, since the case had been sealed, but the scroll also had an outer layer of supple leather, tightly bound and sealed with another wax seal, this one bearing the mark of the Nine Sons, but wreathed with leaves.  Whatever was written on the page, they had taken no chances with it being damaged on the journey.

            Puzzled, I started to break the seal and unroll it when the distant tramping of feet and the clattering of weapons reminded me of why we had had to hurry.  Looking up, I saw the door to the guardhouse and motioned towards it, the Slayers on duty at the gate obligingly opening it for us to enter.  When the door had shut behind us, I walked over to the table that took up most of the room, settling into one of the chairs while the messenger took the one across from me.  Julianna came to stand behind my right side, looking over my shoulder as I broke the seal with an oddly satisfying snap, then unrolled the heavy leather outer covering.  I could almost feel her eyes going as wide as mine did when the words sunk in.

            “Hunter Galen Galnikin of the Slayers of Auré, we, the captains of the Nine Sons of Aerid Thorne, have a grave request to make of you.  All Demon Hunters are aware of our long quest, if not the reasons we have undertaken it, and doubtless you do not need to be told what importance we attach to this news.  Some decades ago, we located our quarry at long last, and have sought ever since to defeat it, but to no avail.  Our foe has sought refuge within the cursed fortress in Enoryth valley, and we cannot reach it.  All who have tried have fallen to the dark power, or else been slain outright, and we have despaired, keeping an endless vigil upon the valley, that our foe and its minions may not escape.  But, we believe that at last, there is hope.  Indisputable word has reached us that you have journeyed in the dark realm of our enemy, and returned alive and unscathed.  Any who could have done such a thing may be able to succeed where we have failed.

            We beseech you to lend us your aid, that we may be released from our task.  For what little it may mean, we give our solemn word that you will have safe travel to our camp, and no matter success or failure, you will leave untouched as well.  We know it is much to risk, but we are at our uttermost end of need.

            If you consent to come, even if you will not, or cannot, aid us, we may be able to aid you in return.  Our long hunt has led us to places where no others have traveled, even deep into the Cerolus Mountains and what information we have about the lost fountain of your god, we will gladly provide.

            The bearer of this message can guide you, if you will come.

                                    May the Light of the Sun shine on you,

                                                Aredis Thorne, First Captain of the Nine Sons”

            “I was told to wait for an answer.” The messenger stated into the silence that followed.  I had nothing to say, not at first at any rate.  I had to read it again before I could even begin to know what I was going to say in response.

            “I am not sure I can give you one.” I said, letting out a long breath and sitting back in my chair.  “Do you know what it says?”

            “No, Hunter, I do not.” He replied and I looked at him in surprise.  In reply to my look, he continued. “A man cannot reveal information he does not possess, not even under the cruelest torture of the Demons.”

            “When was this written?” Julianna asked as I nodded at his grim statement.

            “Three weeks ago.” He stated, and I raised my eyebrows, understanding exactly what my mate was getting at.  “I have ridden hard to bring it here in haste.”

            “I...” I began, then shook my head.  We hadn’t even known the fountain was going to be our goal three weeks ago, much less where it might have been.  And yet, even back then, the Nine Sons had known what to write to make it tempting.  I wanted to ask how they could have known, but if the messenger didn’t even know what the message said, then he certainly wouldn’t have known that.  “When you left your camp, were there still demons in the valley?”

            “Yes.” He answered at once. “Many.”  I took another deep breath and let it out slowly, shaking my head.

            “I must bring this to the Council of Slayers,” I said finally, gauging his reaction.  “I cannot simply wander off on an errand of my own now.”    

            “My captains said as much, and I was to insist that it go no further than that.” The messenger replied.  “It must not be brought to the attention of the rest of the Grand Council, not even the Priesthood of Auré.  I am sure you can understand why.”

            “Oh yes.” I said, rolling the scroll back up and tucking it into its case.  “I do.”