They followed the highway into Manrador, heading north. They pushed their horses as hard as they dared, running them well into the morning and stopping only for a few minutes at a time. Arai didn't think they were being pursued, but Dayan had already conquered the southern portion of Manrador and it was always possible they might encounter more of his troops on their way out of the country.

  It was a difficult night, but Arliel took it all in stride. Arai was impressed with the stoic young emperor, who didn't grouse or complain, but simply did as he was told, and who spoke to Arai and the others as though they were equals, humbly and politely, without any trace of condescension. He seemed like a thoughtful, intelligent man.

  In the early morning -- the sun was just now beginning to rise -- they stopped for a few minutes to water the horses, and Arai took the opportunity to speak to the man.

  "How are you feeling, Your Highness?" he asked.

  "Weary," he said. "But that's not surprising, I suppose, considering the night we've had." He gave Arai a boyish sort of grin. "You'll be rewarded for this, I assure you."

  "Thank you, Your Highness," he said, "but returning you to Duke Galagus, and hopefully putting an end to this war, is the only reward I need."

  "Speak for yourself," Shell said, coming up to join them. "What kind of reward are we talking about, exactly? Gold? Jewels?"

  "At a minimum," he said, laughingly.

  "That's what I like to hear." She flipped her hood down, revealing her face...and her long, pointed elf-ears.

  Arliel did a double take. "What in the world?"

  "I apologize, Your Highness," Arai said. "I didn't get the chance to introduce the other members of my party last night. This is Shell. She's an elf, from the kingdom of Addis. And this is Sir Estil Endsgrief, a knight of Galleus."

  Arliel blinked in confusion. "Addis? Galleus?"

  "They're a very long way from home," he said. "But then again, so am I. I'm from Velon, originally."

  "Velon? Ah, I see. The Steelmen were founded by a Velonese captain, weren't they?"

  "My father," Arai acknowledged. "Hetsu."

  He nodded, but his eyes were still fixed on Shell. "I've never seen an elf before. I've heard about them, of course, but I never would have believed..."

  It took him a little while to get over his surprise, but the emperor seemed to have a talent for quickly adapting to new situations, and very shortly he was moving on to other matters. "We're to meet up with the Steelmen at Seltah?" he asked.

  "That's right," Arai said. "Though we may get there ahead of them." He paused, then asked, "How long have you been Dayan's prisoner?"

  "Several months," he answered. "Since he took Arl's City. My supporters begged me to flee, but Arl's City, and the Pontiaks Cathedral, were built by my ancestors, and I was not about to leave them willingly." He frowned. "Truth be told, I did not expect Dayan to take me prisoner. I knew he didn't respect my authority -- very few people do -- but I thought he would respect my office, at least. My empire may be broken, but I am still the emperor, a descendant of the first Arliel, who shared a soul with Arl himself. Unfortunately I was mistaken. Dayan not only took me prisoner, he ransacked Pontiaks and allowed Bellarue to raid the Gem House and steal a number of ancient treasures." He shook his head sadly. "They'll be used to finance this war, I suppose."

  "What are his plans?" Arai asked.

  "I think that should be obvious," he said bitterly. "To unify the Holy Empire. There are already some who believe Dayan is a new incarnation of Arl. It's ridiculous, of course, but Bellarue seems to have a talent for spreading this kind of impious gossip."

  "What is his interest in Velon?" Lillandra asked. "We overheard him talking about it last night."

  Arliel frowned. "I've heard him mention Velon a few times as well," he admitted. "I confess I don't understand his interest in that country. No offense, but Velon is a backwater. It's a cold, unforgiving place, similar to the Baronies of Tot and Typhon, but with even fewer people. The land is almost entirely unsuitable for agriculture, and the peasants have been left impoverished by the Night Queen's rule. Some of the northern barons would probably like to invade and incorporate Velon into their own realms, and of course there have been a few border wars over the years, but I've always advocated for leaving the poor Velonese alone. They've suffered enough under the Night Queen's rule."

  Lillandra looked uncomfortable. Noticing this, Arai cleared his throat and moved the conversation along: "There must be something of value there," he said. "Why else would he risk splitting his forces in two? Does he really think he can defeat the Marquisates with half his army?"

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  "He may be Bellarue's pawn," Arliel said grudgingly, "but he really is a cunning strategist, and a skilled warrior. He turned back the Trustees and surprised everyone when he defeated Duke Railit outside Arl's City. And he followed that up by running off the Pretender's Company in Manrador."

  That was an impressive track record, Arai had to admit, but no matter how confident the man might be, his actions still didn't make sense. The Marquisates were the richest statelets in the Holy Empire, capable of fielding massive armies and hiring whole legions of mercenary companies; did he really think he could conquer these countries with one hand tied behind his back? And why in the world was Bellarue so interested in Velon? Though he racked his brain, he couldn't come up with an answer.

  They didn't have time to stop and make a breakfast that morning, so they ate some dry hardtack instead and hurried on. They rode all day, only stopping occasionally, and in the late evening they finally spotted a small army encampment on the darkening horizon, situated near a small village. Arai, tired and sore from all the hard riding, dismounted and squinted at the village, whose giant windmill was easily visible. "That must be it," he said. "Looks like the Steelmen got here ahead of us after all." Just to be on the safe side, however, he sent Shell in for a closer look. She threw on the Assassin's Cloak and darted off, but returned only a few minutes later: "It's them," she confirmed.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Arai climbed back on his horse and led the way into town. A pair of guards stopped them at the edge of the village, but both men recognized Arai and immediately ran off to inform Grizz of his party's safe return. Soon they were surrounded by cheering Steelmen, rushing up to congratulate them; those mercenaries who were citizens of the Holy Empire cheered for Arliel as well, when they saw him come riding into the village square. The emperor, humble as always, acknowledged their enthusiasm with smiles and nods, but he actually looked a little embarrassed to be feted so. Arai wondered how often he received this kind of treatment.

  Grizz was waiting for them at the foot of the windmill. He gave Arai a hearty slap on the back. "Well done," he said. "I never doubted you for a moment."

  "Really?"

  "Well, maybe there were a few moments," he admitted. "Are you all right? Did you encounter any difficulties?"

  "The Highwater Bridge was out," he said. "That was a difficulty."

  Grizz scowled. "We received that intelligence only a few hours after you had left," he said apologetically. "I considered sending Vaix after you, but he probably wouldn't have been able to reach you in time, anyway; we were already marching north." He paused there, for the emperor had just climbed down from his horse. The old mercenary got down on one knee. "Your Highness. It is good to see you safe."

  "Rise, friend," Arliel said. "You're the captain of the Steelmen?"

  "Quite so," he confirmed, rising and shaking the man's hand vigorously. "My given name is Grizziam, but you may call me Grizz...or Lord Calfalcon, if Velonese titles mean anything to you."

  "I understand I have you to thank for my freedom."

  "Think nothing of it. Shall we go inside?"

  They followed Grizz into the mill, where he had made his headquarters, and spent another hour there -- Arai and Lillandra reported on everything they had seen in Dayan's camp, and gave him an account of their getaway, while Grizz updated them on the situation back at New Carmal. "The Grand Army has taken over at the Crevak de Che," he said. "I'm not sure what Dayan's plans are, now that we've stolen the emperor away from him, but he has more than the Grand Army to contend with now; he'll have to take Duke Galagus' forces into consideration as well."

  "Have you heard from the Duke?" Arai asked.

  "His army is camped about sixty miles north of here, along Manrador's border with the Greater Remnant," he said. "I sent a rider ahead to inform him of your success." He made a face. "Unfortunately I don't think we can afford to spend the night here. Manrador is still technically enemy territory, and I'm sure Dayan and Bellarue have men searching for us even now."

  Arai sighed. He was tired and hungry and barely ambulatory -- his back and hips were killing him -- and he would have liked to have spent a quiet night here in this village. Alas. "I understand," he said.

  And so, in the dead of night, they pressed on, this time in the company of the Steelmen, leaving the village and making their way into the rolling plains of northern Manrador. Arai found himself riding alongside Sir Estil, who looked troubled.

  "Something bothering you?" Arai asked, wondering if the knight's age was finally beginning to catch up with him.

  "Just thinking," he said. "This Arliel seems like a good lad. He reminds me a bit of King Arthorius, when he was young." His eyes held a faraway look.

  Arai caught the look. "Homesick?"

  "You might call it that," he admitted, with a bit of a chuckle. "Elent was strange, but this country is stranger still. These people are kin to one another, speaking the same language and sharing the same customs, and yet, they're at war with each other, and this seems to have been going on for generations."

  Arai nodded ruefully. "It's nothing to do with language and customs," he said. "You're right about that. It's power, and the pursuit of it, that drives most of the wars in the Holy Empire. Dukes, barons, and marquises, fighting over castles and inheritances."

  "These people need the Perfect Knight," he said firmly. "They need chivalry."

  "The code of chivalry forbids war?"

  "Not at all. In fact the Perfect Knight encourages us to learn the arts of war, to demonstrate martial valor, and to use our skills to defend our homelands if necessary. But war is a serious thing, and it should not be entered into for these trivial reasons."

  "The Steelmen are mercenaries," Arai said. "My father was a mercenary; I was a mercenary. We profited from these little wars the Empire is always waging with itself." He smiled faintly. "I imagine your Perfect Knight isn't too happy with me, for helping to wage these trivial wars."

  He shrugged. "The Perfect Knight is perfect. The world isn't."

  Arai wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but he let it pass. "Have you thought much about the future? About what you will do when this is all over?"

  "I've sworn myself to your service," he said stiffly. "I will remain by your side for as long as you'll have me."

  "I plan to settle down after we've settled things in Velon," Arai said. "To hang up my sword and live a quiet life somewhere. It would be presumptuous of me to ask the world's greatest knight to do the same."

  "We'll worry about that when the time comes," he said, chuckling again. "It's always better to focus on the present, anyway, especially when one is surrounded by war, death, and danger."

  Arai could hardly disagree with that.