<HTML>    Misha was standing in the center of the road, resting on his axe. He waited until Edmund had come up to him. With the paladin were all of his senior knights and soldiers. In a moment they stood around the scout in a semicircle.    "We're on the edge of the Haunted Woods," the fox intoned loud enough for all to hear. "That is no mere name. These woods ARE haunted.  Behind me, about an hours ride is the ruins of a Sueliman fortress that dates to the time of the fall of the empire."    "When the Lutins swept south in the year 145 that fortress was the last one in the valley to fall. When it was conquered every living thing in it was put to death. Their ghosts still wander the ruins and these woods."    That statement brought a murmur from the group and he noticed many of the men shifting about nervously. He could hardly blame them - fighting Lutins was one thing, but facing ghosts was another.    "No need to worry, we have been living with this haunted place for over five hundred years and we know what to do." The fox tried to sound calm and reassuring, letting those emotions be plain to see. No need to cause any unnecessary fear.    "First, go no where alone and stay on the road. Never let yourself be lured off the road for any reason. If you must leave it, stay within sight of it. Be careful where you walk. Watch both below your feet and above your head but don't jump at every shadow that moves."    "My biggest warning is TAKE NOTHING," the fox commanded. "The ghosts do not mind people moving through but they get mad when you steal what they think is theirs. If you find something like bits of metal or pottery leave; them be. If you find bones . . ." He paused for a moment. "Tell myself or Sir Edmund and we'll see that the person is given a rightful burial."    "One final warning. We will be passing the ruins at midday. We will not enter the ruins but we will pass within an arrows flight of it. DO NOT ENTER THE RUINS FOR ANY REASON. My people will be sure the surrounding woods are clear of Lutins. And any lutin stupid enough to enter the fortress itself won't live long." He made no mention of the Shadowfox. For which Edmund was very grateful. ********    For once Sir Terrant agreed with Misha; coming this way was a bad mistake. The woods around them were full of tall, old trees whose branches stretched high up into the sky speaking of good health. They reminded him of his home and of the Kings private reserve where he had grown up. He had fond memories of the days of his youth, hunting, fishing and often just walking amidst that ancient forest. But where that forest was open and welcome, this one was dark, foreboding and mysterious. It seemed to be a place full of shadows and fear. Where no animal was ever seen nor heard.    The thing that most un-nerved him was the total silence; no birds chirping, or animal cries. Gone was the soft crunching of a deer as it grazed, no yowling of the fox or howl of the wolf or the sounds of squirrels chattering. Even the faint rustle of the wind was gone. There was only a dead silence that clung to everything and stifled all sound. Even the sound of the soldiers marching around him was reduced to a mere whisper of a noise. The crunch of snow inaudible. He couldn't help but feel that they were being watched in spite of what Misha said about his scouts. I was almost like the forest itself was watching them. Watching and waiting.    Looking back at the soldiers and knights under his command he saw that this strange place had affected them too. Gone was the usual chatter and easy movements. Instead every man held his tongue and gripped sword and shield tightly as they looked about scanning the trees and brush for any sign of trouble.    Sir Terrant tried to sit taller, straighter and to look more confident and calm then he felt. He tried to act casual as if they were merely marching through some village close to home. Above all now he couldn't show any fear to his men. Fear was contagious and if he looked afraid it would spread through all of his people gnawing away at their will to fight. The forest might be their enemy but right now fear was a bigger enemy. An enemy to be fought with words and gestures.    Turning in the saddle he looked at the troops marching behind him. There was a half dozen knights all armored and on horseback like himself. Behind them marched a score of pike armed infantry flanked by a dozen archers. His eyes fell on one man some ten years his senior who with long bow in hand walked slightly apart from the rest, closer to the woods.    "Roderick!" Terrant called out, trying to sound casual but not sure if he had succeeded. The man didn't seem to hear him but just kept staring at the woods.    "RODERICK!" He shouted louder and cringed as the words seemed to explode over the whole group. A dozen other people jumped or started in surprise. A horse neighed in momentary unease.    The archer finally looked at the knight. "Sir?" he asked in a soft voice. As if talking in a normal tone wasn't allowed here.    "What is the name of that tree there?" Terrant asked waving a gauntleted hand at a tall tree with leaves that were a dark green on one side and a light silver on the other. All the trees around it were bare of leaves but this one was still in full bloom as if ignoring the cold. "I have never seen it's like before."    Roderick seemed surprised at the statement and just stood frozen for a moment before looking in the direction the knight had pointed. Quite a few others in the group looked too. All eager for something to break the monotony and silence.    "It's a Winter Oak I think, my Lord. I've never seen one before but my Grandfather told me that they once grew in the high mountains where winter never leaves. It's wood makes the finest musical instruments. A violin made of Winter Oak is said to speak with the voice of the forest itself."    "Such a tree is a great treasure then," the knight responded. "When this is over we'll come back and see if this forest will begrudge us a few strong limbs." The tree was tall and old and its smallest branch was easy as thick as a mans whole body. It would be no easy thing to remove and haul away such a branch.    The archer noticeably brightened as a broad smile filled his face. "Even one such limb would be a great gift. We would have to pay our proper respects to the tree. Be sure that the wound we make in taking the limb heals well."    "Of course," Terrant answered. He knew that Roderick would spend days before hand appeasing the trees spirit before even touching the bark. And afterward when the first instrument made from the wood was finished the first to hear its voice would be the tree.    Slowly the column moved past the Winter Oak and down the snow and mud covered path that had once been a road. Marching as they always had been but now the forest didn't seem so dark and foreboding. *********    It was close to noon when things changed. Ahead Terrant saw the column slow noticeably then regain its normal pace. Almost like it had shivered at some momentary fright.    The trees which had until now been far from the path suddenly appeared less then an arms length from it on either side. As if standing guard over the road. These trees were far different from the tall oaks, elms and pine that made up the rest. Instead these trees were shorter and speared out across the ground instead of shooting straight up as if afraid of standing too tall. Their branches were gnarled and twisted and many looked like grasping hands. Without realizing it the knight reigned in his horse for a moment shocked by the twisted trees in front of him. He gave a shake of the reins and slight nudge of his heels and his mare started forward again.    In a moment he was among the trees and he had to suppress a shiver as the gnarled creatures loomed overhead and their shadows fell over him.    "They're Blossom Apples," suddenly came the voice of Roderick.    Surprised the knight looked more closely at the trees and realized that the archer was right. In winter these trees were gnarled and twisted things but in spring they would blossom and in days they would be covered with bright, white flowers and their sweet scent would fill the air as their petals covered the ground like snow. The trees would be a true beauty to behold delighting all who saw them. At home people would come from a long way just to see even one tree in full bloom.    "The Sueliman must have planted them," The knight commented. "To make to road a bit easier to travel." That was true and even now many centuries later they were still doing so. Somehow knowing that beauty existed in this dark, haunted forest made the journey easier.    Sir Terrant tried to imagine what it must have been like back when this was no mere path but a fine, paved, empire road. In his mind he could see himself dressed in the bright, shining armor of a centurion, leading a hundred legionnaires. The steady tramp of two hundred feet marching in unison over the gray granite of the road filled came to his ears. The flowers would be in bloom and the air filled with their scent as people lined the road, cheering them. Heroes returning home flush with victory. The warm spring sun shining down on everything making the trees seem even brighter. As if trying to compete with the sun itself. He could in his mind see young women laughing and cheering as kids flittered about like they always did, laughing and playing games as they wove back and forth amidst the flowering trees.    With a start that happy image disappeared and the knight found himself at a stand still staring at the side of the road. The trees as suddenly as they had appeared had disappeared leaving a blank and forlorn road. He could easily see a flat spot on either side where trees had once stood but was now only covered with snow and ice.    Shivering, he tried to understand what had just happened but couldn't. Had he been just imagining things? The warmth from the sun had felt so real, the sweet scent of the flowers so fresh. Instead here he was shivering in the cold of winter the trees bare and seemingly dead. Slowly he looked up at what lay ahead and saw a large ominous shape looming over them all. He knew instinctively what it was before his eyes made sense of the shapes. It was the ruined fortress, the very home of the shadow and the ghosts who still haunted this land. *********    The column moved very slowly down the road. No one was in any hurry to get closer to the ruins that still stared down at them. Still the group moved forward and the shadowed fortress loomed larger and larger.    Suddenly up ahead of them a figure blocked their path. The figure was dressed in leather armor that was painted white to match the snow. He recognized the ferret Finbar. The scout motioned with his hands to the right.    "That way," Finbar commanded. "Keep to the marked path and touch NOTHING!"    Sir Terrant nodded and urged his mount in the direction the ferret had said. He didn't bother to repeat that last order to his own people. None of them would be stupid enough to go near anything.   The path was marked with simple, green ribbons tied to sticks and posts stuck into the ground every ten paces or so. Up ahead a mound of stone two stories high loomed up and the marked path swerved to the left.  Tall, stonewalls loomed up through the trees towering twenty feet overhead. The line of sticks and ribbons lead to a breach in the walls where the rubble had rolled down into a long easy ramp. Terrant was forced to dismount and carefully lead his horse up the ramp. Picking each step with care he moved through the breach and back down to the forest floor.     The snow was noticeably thinner here and he could see the paving stones beneath the snow quite easily. He waited patiently as the rest of his people moved through the breach and formed up again around him. It gave him time to look around and see exactly where they were.    He saw mounds sticking up out of the snow all around. Trees grew around, over and even through the mounds seemingly taking no notice of them. He recognized the weathered and crumbled remains of a wall with a doorway and window in one such mound. Out of another he saw a small statue sticking up, its head long gone it still sat in a niche in a wall. They were in the middle of a town. And from the number of mounds and ruins that see it was a large one. Perhaps it had once been home to over a thousand people or more. Once it had boasted temples, taverns, inns, whorehouses and homes. Its streets once alive with people were now only home to snow, ice and ghosts.    With a shiver he realized the breach they had entered had probably been made by the attacking Lutins centuries ago. And that more then likely he had stepped over the graves of many unknown men who had died trying to block that breach and defend their homes. He had been stepping on the dead. A cold shiver ran down his spine.    It only took moments for everyone to make it across the walls and into the town. The knight made sure none had been left behind and then began the slow march through the ruins. The cloth and sticks wove a path amidst the remains of the town. Moving straight past a long, crumbling wall now crowned with trees and snow. The path turned and moved past a large open field devoid of ruins and trees. His eyes picked out the remains of a fountain its beautiful statues now scattered into pieces. It's large basin once home to singing and tumbling war now filled only with earth and snow.    All around them were the remains of a Sueliman town now reduced to half tumbled walls standing guard over piles of shattered stones and bricks. Nothing moved in this dead place except themselves. Always looking down on them was the tall hill of fortress. Looking at it Terrant noticed that although the town was in sunlight the fortress wasn't. It was always covered by shadows and dark brooding, menacing trees.    It was none to soon when the stonewalls loomed up again in their path. This time the trail didn't lead to a breach in the walls but straight up to a large square gatehouse. The wooden gates were long gone and its rooms were laid open to the sky but there was no debris clogging it's entrance and he could see the path clearly leading straight through the building and off into the forest.    It was with great relief that he moved though the gatehouse and back into the forest. Somehow after being in that town the woods were a welcome relief. He found Sir Edmund and Misha waiting patiently under the spreading branches of a tall elm tree.    The knight took a careful count to be sure that none of his people had been left behind before approaching the two.    "Any trouble?" the paladin asked.    "No Sir," Sir Terrant answered. "But I will be glad to be far from this place," he added truthfully.    "Agreed," Misha answered. "There's been no sign of the Shadow which is good. But let's not push things. We'll be marching till dusk. That should put us at the edge of the forest and far from these ruins."    The knight nodded. The farther the better.    *********    Sir Edmund walked slowly along the perimeter of the camp checking each guard personally. He talked to each one being sure that he understood what was expected of them. With easy words and manner he calmed the nervous and strengthened the unsteady. The utter silence and pitch-blackness of the woods around them only made that job all the harder. It set everyone's nerves on edge; even the fox and his scouts were ill at ease.    He stopped walking and stared out into the darkness.    "You believe that a shadow really is out there?" Sir Terrant asked to the silent paladin.    Edmund nodded slowly. "Misha believes so. And I as well."    "I'll be glad when we put these woods far behind us. They are haunted. I didn't hear any birds singing or see so much as a single animal."    Again the paladin nodded. "With the undead roaming the fortress and a shadow in the woods itself no creature will live here."     "Be sure all the sentries stay at their posts the entire night," Edmund ordered. "And no lights or fires."    "That will be hard to enforce," Terrant countered. "A good fire boosts a mans nerve."    "And attracts every monster and lutin who sees the flames. If the men are afraid of the dark remind them that Misha and his people are out there," he said pointing out of the camp and into the blackness. "Those brave people are actually looking for that shadow. Trying to keep it from attacking us."    Terrant shivered a moment. "Will they be safe?"    The paladin shrugged. "No telling but the Long Scouts are all hardened veterans."    "But they were all as frightened as the rest of us," the knight countered. "This place un-nerves them too."     "We'll rotate the guards frequently and always have at least two at each post. Plus an additional sixteen soldiers in four patrols wandering the camp in random patterns," Edmund ordered. "Tonight no one is to be alone and all those not on duty are to try and rest. We'll start assembling for the march two hours before dawn."    "Understood sir. Dawn cannot come soon enough."    "Agreed, but dawn will come. It always does." ********* </HTML>