<html xmlns:v="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:vml" xmlns:o="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" xmlns:w="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:word" xmlns:m="http://schemas.microsoft.com/office/2004/12/omml" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"><head><META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=us-ascii"><meta name=Generator content="Microsoft Word 15 (filtered medium)"><style></style></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72"><div class=WordSection1><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p> The cathedral was a fine-looking stone building. Probably the only substantial stone structure in the city besides the city walls. Two tall steeples flanked the main entrance doors of well-polished bronze.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Kenward, brother Harrick and a small entourage arrived at the bishop’s palace at half past nine in the morning. All of the knights had bathed and their armor, always kept clean. had been cleaned again and the tabards they wore over them were freshly cleaned and pressed.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The building was of middling size. Larger than most buildings in the city but far smaller than would be found in most other cities. It sat next to the cathedral with only a short walk from one to the other. A single guard holding a spear stood at the main door.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> As they came closer the door opened and a young priest came out, moving at a good pace. Short, blonde hair framed a face that held a calm demeanor. “Welcome.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Kenward gave a short bow. “Please inform the bishop Tyrion Verdane that Sir Godric Neville Kenward, Knightmaster of the Order of Protectors is here to meet with him.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The priest bowed in return. “Bishop Verdane welcomes you to Kelewair. I am Father Goward. Please follow me.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p>***************<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p> The village of Glengormley was small. Barely one hundred people in a score of buildings on either side of the road. The buildings were all stone and clustered together in a tight group. A small manor house sat at one end and an even smaller windmill at the other. The back walls of the buildings were all bare stone and there was no open space between them This left the only way into or out of the village being the road at either end. Both of those were now closed with barricades of barrels, boxes and even overturned wagons.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> A simple design when the village had been built (or rebuilt) made the village nicely defensible. It would not withstand an assault by a full army but it made the village easily defended against raiders and the occasional overly bold bandit.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Standing behind the northern barricade was a half dozen men all brandishing a mix of spears, clubs and one man even had a bow.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Edmund stopped the column one hundred feet from the barricade. He moved ahead alone, leaving Terry and the rest behind.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> A javelin lofted out from the barricade and struck the ground in front of him. He walked past it without stopping. When he was sixty feet from the barricade he stopped. “You missed,” he said bluntly. “Never throw at a target from that far out. You have a small chance of hitting and even if you do the missile has lost most of its energy. The chance of it causing serious injury is small. Wait till they get this close. Then throw.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> A second missile lofted up from the barricade and plummeted down towards the cheetah.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Edmund looked up at the descending missile with a almost casual gaze. He took one small step to the left and the missile projectile thumped into the earth mere inches from his paws<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Better," He commented but you STILL missed."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Enough of your stupid tricks monster,” A brown haired man behind the barricade said coldly. “We were warned of your coming,” the leader said harshly. “You are raiding, looting, raping.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Monster?” Edmund leaned against the horn on his saddle. “And this warning came to you from Midtown? Baron Donel?”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Yes,” came the answer. “A rider came through here this morning. He’s warning everyone.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “And you believed him?” The paladin answered.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The man looked confused for a moment. “Of course. Why shouldn’t we? Baron Donel has protected or village for generations.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Do we look like raiders?” The paladin asked. “Do I look like some bandit?”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> One of the other men waved a large spear at Edmund. “You . . . your one of THOSE people. From the valley.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “So that makes me a monster? The paladin asked. “A killer? A raider.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “We know who you are and what you want,” the man snarled.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The paladin slowly shook his head. “No. No you don’t. You know nothing about us. Of that I am certain.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Begone!” The man ordered. “You’ll not take this town without a fight.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “So,” Edmund said slowly. “You’ll not be allowing us into your fine village?”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “NEVER!” The man shouted as he waved his spear about. “We’ll fight you to the death to defend our families and our homes.” The rest of the people at the barricade cheered and howled insults at their opponents.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> In his mind Edmund already had his attack worked out. His archers would shower those at the barricade driving them off. The survivors would take refuge in the buildings. These he would set fire with torches and fire arrows. (Why do people still use thatched roofs? Thatch! So easily set alight instead of slate or even wooden shingles.) Those who stayed in the buildings would die in the fire. Those who ran out would be run down by his knights or cut down by his infantry. But that was Edmund the soldier thinking. Edmund the son of a noble family. But he was Edmund Delacot, Knightbrother of the Order of Protectors.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “In that case,” Edmund said simply. “We’ll leave you in peace.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> And to the utter astonishment of everyone in the village. They did just that.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p>********************<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p> The Knightbrothers weren’t taken directly to the bishop. Instead they found themselves in a small room with some chairs and a large couch. Bland pictures of landscapes decorated the walls.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Please wait here,” the priest said. “The bishop will be with you soon.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The group was silent until the door closed leaving them alone.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Soon?” Harrick commented. “That doesn’t bode well.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The Knightmaster carefully sat down in a chair made of blonde colored wood and upholstered in a matching tan. “Consider this a small test of our patience.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “You were expecting this,” Harrick commented in a cold tone.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> A nod of the head was Kenward’s answer. “Some people think it necessary to show their dominance in such little things.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “And others see it as a way to unsettle an opponent before a meeting or confrontation,” Harrick added.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “We’re not here to confront the bishop,” Kenward responded. “He is on our side.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “I’m not so sure,” Harrick answered. “We thought Ammodus was a friend too.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Good point,” the knightmaster commented. “But let’s not prejudge him. He might just be like Knightmaster Huwain.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Harrick turned and looked at the current Knightmaster. “Knightmaster Huwian?”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “You never knew him?” Kenward asked.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “No sir,” came the answer. “He retired before I took the vows.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Ah!” Kenward said with a smile. “A fine knightbrother and a great leader. But he seemed to be physically incapable of doing anything on time. He was always late. Regardless of how important a meeting or appointment was. They say he was even born a week late.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Harrick gave a rare smile. “Truly?”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Indeed,” Kenward answered. “Finally I took to telling him the wrong dates and times. If the ceremony was at Midday we would tell him it was at Terce. If the meeting was on the 15th of the month. We would tell him the 14th.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Did it work?” Harrick asked.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> “Oh yes,” The knightmaster responded with a smile.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The door opened and Father Goward stepped into the room. “The bishop will see you now.”<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p>********************<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p> The trees and underbrush along the side of the road was thinner than he hopped. It provided far less cover and concealment than he would have liked. Still, with care and skill he stayed out of sight. Usually he would move slower and more carefully but he had to stay ahead of the group Edmund and Terry were leading. That meant moving faster than he would have wanted but he had a task to do. An important one. He and the members of his squad were to warn Edmund of troubles they might run into. Things like an ambush or an approaching army.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Normal people didn’t understand. Having never experienced what being an animal was like, they just didn’t know what it was like. They didn’t know how amazing the enhanced senses of smell and sound felt. In his feline body Stealth could hear and smell things that a human just never would experience. His enhanced sense of smell picked up the faint whiff of a human scent. After a few moments, the feline recognized it as a man. After traveling with this group for so long Stealth knew the scent and look of everyone in it and this person was a stranger.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> He stopped and for several minutes just concentrated on his senses. Sniffing the scents and listening to the sounds around him. The wind was gently blowing from the southwest telling him the intruder was in that direction. Slowly, carefully, thinking through each move before he made it. Stealth turned to the southwest and the foreign smell grew faintly stronger.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The scout scanned the forest ahead of him looking for the slightest sign of anything that didn’t belong. A branch broken the wrong way, a human footprint or a human shape amidst the shadows.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> After a few minutes, he saw a branch, the end of which was bent at an odd angle. As if something had brushed against it. Looking at the ground beneath it. He spotted a mix of leaves and pine needles that had been disturbed. To most people it meant nothing but to him it was a foot print.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The feline looked around the print and found what he was looking for. A second footprint a little way off and slightly beyond that – a third. Slowly and carefully he followed the prints moving in the direction they led.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> His sensitive ears picked up a slight movement off to his left and he turned in that direction. He looked intently unsure of what it could be. It might be the other scout or it could be a wild animal. Deer, badger, rabbit and fox inhabited this area in abundance and he didn’t want to go off chasing the wrong thing. Then he caught a faint whiff of leather and oil. His opponent was wearing leather armor that had been oiled to preserve it in the damp and rain.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> SNAP!<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> He heard the bow release and an arrow thumped into the tree next to him. Stealth looked at the arrow for a moment. It was still quivering from the impact.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The feline reacted instantly. His own bow came up and he loosed an arrow in the direction the first one had come from. Stealth saw a shadow shift among the branches of a tree. He drew, fitted and loosed another arrow straight at the shadow. <o:p></o:p> He was rewarded with a shout of pain. The shadow enlarged into the full figure of a man. That man turned and started running away as fast as he could.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The feline nocked an arrow and took aim at the fleeing man but he didn’t shoot. He wanted this scout alive to answer questions. And an arrow to the back would probably be fatal. If it didn’t kill the man it would make it harder to interrogate him. He could still learn much from a dead body but a live prisoner could tell him a lot more.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> He dropped to all fours as his body shifted to its more feral form. Stealth looked at the fleeing man and the hunter’s instincts kicked in. His claws tore into the dirt as he sprang forward. His legs were pumping and he rocketed forward<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Stealth was amazed at the blinding speed as the trees and bushes flashed by in a blur. It was exhilarating! Every part of his body; every nerve, every muscle and instinct was built solely for speed, to catch fleeing prey.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> He felt the power and speed in his muscles unleashed but it wasn't raw or blind but was controlled and channeled, his instincts guiding him with lightning speed. The cat raced through the woods twisting and turning as he weaved among the throng. His extra-long tail flipping left and right, acting like a massive rudder for the speeding cheetah.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The predator closed the distance between them in an instant. The man who had been running before now seemed to be almost walking. Instinctively the carnivore lashed out with one paw and tripped the man. The prey tumbled to the ground in a flurry of curses and flailing limbs.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The cheetah clamped his teeth around the man’s arm, biting down hard. He twisted his body and his weight and momentum sent the man flying.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The man flew a good ten feet before he hit the ground. He tumbled through the underbrush for another ten feet before he hit a tree with a solid sounding thump.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Stealth stood up and shook himself off. He held still a short distance from the man. Outside of the reach of a swinging sword. The man’s body remained limp at the base of the tree. The cheetah could smell fresh blood and he could hear his ragged breathing. This told the Keeper that although wounded his prey was alive.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p>******************<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p></div></body></html>