"That must be her," said Victoria while pointing towards the open sky. A few hundred feet above the horizon a hang-glider floated carelessly over the fields, against a back-drop of grey, flat-bottomed clouds. The occupants of the ground-skimmer watched as the small shape became larger the closer it got – seemingly from the size of a bee to the size of a large eagle.

"I'm so pleased you decided to pair with a smelf, Victoria. It's a big commitment but well worth it in the end. She has the facts and mental aptitude - and you have the life-experience." Zovonamir looked out the window at the oval parachute.

Victoria shrugged, obviously worried. "I'm still not sure about the pairing – or if I'll be able to help her at all."

Zon could see the smelf clearly now and he grimaced. "Well, you could start by telling her to wear a helmet. This will protect her most valuable asset – her brain."

"I'll make a note," she said.

"Please do. All a smelf really has to offer is their brain and the knowledge downloaded by the Confederacy. Without that knowledge they're worth practically nothing to anyone. Do you like your smelf, Victoria?"

"I've only seen her three times so far: at her birth of course; after her downloading; and now at three years old."

"It must be something important for her to make such an impromptu journey." They were now on the outskirts of town. "There is one more thing you must remember, my young friend. No matter how much they resemble children, do not pick them up, unless they offer. They are an esteemed race and are not to be talked down to. Their enhanced intelligence vastly outweighs our own."

"I understand that, Zon. Why would you feel the need to remind me of something so basic?"

His eyes softened, allowing the young girl to see into his hazel eyes as he leaned forward. "I only remind you because you are childless and might be tempted to see Lana as a way to fill that need. I can assure you a smelf is much different than a human child."

"Thank you for your warning, Zon." The ground-skimmer came to a stop suddenly. "Well, here I am, right on time. Farewell for now."

The 3-foot smelf had already chosen a table on the restaurant's patio, against a wrought-iron fence. She wore a shift-dress of striped terrycloth that came to just above her ankles and had a hood.

The woman took a seat at the table, closest to where the smelf was standing. "I'm honored that you've come to visit, Lana."

"I'm here on important business for the King," she answered, getting to the point. "I was advised by my tutor to seek out my human."

"What does the King want?"

"He wants to know the number of dwarfs in Parish Centuria NOW!" The smelf lifted her eyebrows as though the difficulty of the task was obvious.

"It's not as if he asked for the number of stars in the sky," said the human.

"2,354 stars are usually visible from one location with the naked eye at 3 AM," Lana answered stoically. "The King is impatient and wants the number of dwarfs now, and they don't keep written records for census."

"I will be delighted to accompany you on your quest, but couldn't you simply approximate the number of dwarfs by visiting an average village."

"I didn't think of that! And then use the German Tank equation!"

"The what?"

"The number of dwarfs can be estimated as the maximum observed age minus one, plus the number of dwarfs seen divided into the maximum observed age. The German Tank equation. Thank you."

Victoria began to stand. "Well if we are to make it to the closest village by nightfall, we'll need to leave now."

The smelf looked at the woman quizzically. "Can you tell me why I've had trouble relieving my bowels?"

"Perhaps you need to eat more fruit to increase the fiber in your diet." The woman reached over to a bowel of fruit on the table and handed a peach to the smelf. Lana began to eat it and smiled.

"Thank you again. We can go now," she said. Victoria placed a Kumquat inside her purse.

The journey in the ground-skimmer proved uneventful and they easily made it to Volicheck.

Walking through the community, Lana immediately began to make mental notes of the number of dwarfs coming and going from their underground homes, and the approximate age of the dwarfs they encountered. By the time the pair had reached the opposite edge of the village the smelf was smiling – reassured that she would definitely be able to bring the king the numbers he wanted. "6,538 – plus or minus 3."

There was now a mist in the air as they stood beside a stream. "My hair is getting damp and I forgot to bring my cap," said the smelf to Victoria.

"You have a hood on your dress, why don't you put it up?"

"I always thought the hood was merely ornamental," she said.

Victoria reached over to pull the hood over her head, but stopped suddenly. The smart elf nodded her permission, so the human adjusted the cloth over the smelf's head.

"You know a great many things, human. I very much appreciate your help and will be seeking it again very soon, I'm sure. We can head back right after I find a café and a bathroom."

The woman couldn't help but chuckle, leading the smelf towards the center of town.

On the way home the Lana became sleepy in the ground-skimmer and asked Victoria if she could sit on her lap. As the human looked at the face of the sleeping smelf, she was glad she had chosen to mentor this small, brilliant creature, wondering what their futures together might hold. She smiled to herself and thought happily, "Who am I to blow against the wind."

"Why are you bothering me with such trivia," bellowed King Xebec of Secure Computer Fairie Cloudland to a group of his ministers. "Go to Question Mark my Wizminister. That's his job description: fixit, makeit, changeit, doit, Damnit."

"Yes your Royal Flatulence," one mumbled.

"WHAT? OFF WITH HIS HEAD!!!" And then Xebec remembered a question his Wizminister had asked him one day, ‘What goes ha-ha-ha thunk?' Xebec had no idea at that time. ‘Someone laughing his head off.' Fitting thought Xebec laughing to himself.

"We're on our way," his ministers answered mumbling "controlaltdelete" to themselves over and over again, groveling they backed out of the royal throne room minus one member, their noses stopped up in defense against his royalnesses perfumed flatulence.

Knocking on the Wizminister's door they entered. The neon sign flashed: TAKE A SEAT, The WIZ IS IN.

They went to Question Mark, "We have a problem."

"Yes you do, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"Oh he's so smart."

Their chief minister, Lord Up-Fu Skate declared, "In the Department of Redundancy Department, we work from 9 to 1 and then take midmeal. Then we go back to work from 2 to 5 and retire to our homes. It's intolerable. We work so hard.

HMMMMMMM thought the Wizminister, the greatest thinker in all of Secure Computer Fairie Cloudland, and with a stern parental like expression gazed upon them. They're eyes shown of hope and wonder. He felt the assembled mental energy was enough to power an oven light, maybe.

"I must retire to my study, go to the great thinkers and ponder a solution to this great problem. Wait here." And with a flourish of his great motley cape, he disappeared.

Meanwhile the exiled great Evil Witch Princess Butterflyflicker viewed all this in her secure cloud screen. What a bunch of frauds," she said to herself. They're all idiots. I'm going to fix their stinky butts. I will come up with a good one."

Question Mark returned to the assembled crowd. "I have an answer to your great ponderings"

The ministers were silent, with baited breath, waited

He declared, "Right now you work from 9 to 1 and then from 2 to 5 sending things back and forth committee to committee for review and re-review. And Yes…IS …intolerable."

The ministers mumbled their approval.

"Instead," he said with great flourish, and stopped

"I propose…"

They waited.

"I propose… that you work from 9 to 12 and then… after mid meal…"

They waited

"I propose from 1 to 5!"

They looked at each other and in unison shouted, "WONDERFUL!." They all applauded and shouted… "He fixed it."

All-of-a-sudden, POOFda! POOFda!

Wizminister found himself in a translucent room with two great chairs, a table and a long rope. There were no doors or windows. And there beside him was King Xebec in his royal underwear.

"Where are we?"King Xebec shouted while covering himself. "I order you to get us out of here now," he commanded. Looking around acknowledging the obvious problems to himself, he asked, "but how?" He Questioned Mark.

Witch Princess Butterflyflicker had placed both of them in an air tight tower that blocked the use of magic. They had to use their minds to solve what she considered a simple problem. Only logic would get them out of this. She Questioned Mark's ability to reason his way out of a wet sack. She knew King Xebec was a brute so there was no issue there. The kingdom would be hers.

Wizminister sat down and asked, "King Xebec do you have any idea how we got here, where ever here is? I can feel that magic will not work. We are left to our wits."

Xebec shouted, "It's that evil Witch Princess Butterflyflicker, I can tell it was her. Damn her!"

"Yes, yes I will do that later. That will not solve our present problem. Let me think."

Xebec was beside himself in worry. "That bitch," he mumbled and paced back and forth.

Princess Witch Butterflyflicker looked upon the hapless duo and considered that this was a done deal and it was now time to pack her travel bags.

Wizminister viewed the room and at that exact time as Butterflyflicker was enjoying their terminal situation, he also realized there was an issue of air. "Sire, please if you would ease up on your activity. I think we have a limited amount of oxygen. There is a way to escape but I have to figure it out. I know it's simple, and not obvious, but just what?"

Xebec in an uncharacteristic manner listened to his Wizminister, didn't Question Mark, and sat down on the great chair, slamming his fist on the table.

YES!, That's it!" exclaimed Wizminister.

"You lordship, I will need your great strength. Please break this table exactly in half."

"What, are you crazy?" He Questioned Mark. (sorry I had to).

"No, just do it," The Wizmaster instructed.

The King did as he was commanded. It was a perfect break.

The Wizminister held up the two pieces and declared, "This is our way out!"

"You've gone mad," The King shouted. "We're done for.!"

"No not at all. Here's the solution. You broke the whole table in two, perfectly. Two halves make a whole." He placed the two halves against the wall thereby making a hole. He took the rope, tied it to a chair and threw the rope out the hole. "After you your majesty."

Butterflyflicker viewed their success and flew into a rage. She crashed into a tree causing amnesia. She forgot about most of her powers and her past and all that and lived in a large candy house in the magic woods somewhere in Bavaria until she cooked her goose with some criminal behavior and some abandoned children.

The Wizminister and Xebec never spoke of the incident. They became best of friends and wrote about their grim tales that were only to be published after their deaths in the Secure Computer Fairie Cloudland.

On his third attempt to make browned bread instead of charred bread, Chief Leif slammed the handle down on the small silver bread browner. The little gizmo shook nervously and growled when Leif began to curse.

"Oh no you don't!", Chief Leif snapped as he reached for the little gizmo that was suddenly trying to run down the counter.

"That's my breakfast you're trying to steal!" He grabbed it just before it tumbled over the edge. The little bread browner ejected it's hot cargo, deliberately aiming for the Chief's face, and then snapped at his fingers with its hot coils. The Chief pulled his hands away quickly and shouted for Lily.

"Lily, fetch the Doc! My bread browner is doing that thing again and I… I think it tried to bite me!", Chief Leif fumed.

"Right away Chief.", Lily jumped up and ran for Doc Z's yurt at the furthest edge of the village.

Lily knew that Doc Z was overwhelmed with desperate pleas for help from villagers who let too much magic smoke escape from their gizmos. And sometimes when you let too much magic smoke out of a gizmo, the results could be downright dangerous. She thought it was funny when the bread browner tried to bite the chief, but she knew she would have to convince Doc Z to come across the village to refill the magic smoke in the Chief's bread browner.

Lily ran head long into a door that had never been locked before and was knocked flat on her rear . Lily swore and dusted herself off as she got up. She started to reach for the door again when a small fish gizmo she hadn't noticed announced, "He's not here."

"Doc's always here.", Lily said as she pounded on the door.

"HE'S NOT HERE!", the fish growled as puffs of smoke began to rise from his gills..

"I'm here on Chief Leif's business, and the Doc is always here."

The fish gizmo raised it's head from it's mounting board, turning towards her it said, "Push the red button.", then laid back down.

Lily stood gaping at it for a moment and then decided to play along with the Doc's little game and pushed the button.

The fish gizmo sprang to life and began swish it's tail and move it's head back and forth to music and then sang, "Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh…"

"I don't have time for any song and dance routines, the Chief needs Doc Z NOW!", Lily shouted. A small tendril of smoke curled out of the top of the fish. Lily closed her eyes and counted to ten, she didn't want bad karma releasing any more magic smoke.

She let out her breath in a slow hushing sound, then spoke as calmly as she could manage, "Please may I see the Doc?"

The fish laid flat then sighed, "Push the red button."

"I tried that, but all you did was sing and dance, and I must see Doc Z, the Chief sent me.", Lily was managing to stay calm, but just barely.

The fish shook a little, then said a little too smugly, "Well, you forgot to ask a question first, didn't you?"

Exasperated but keeping her cool, Lily pressed the button and asked, "May I please see the Doc? The Chief needs him right away."

The fish shook its head back and forth then flicked its tail for good measure and said in sing-song, "The good Doctor Zachary has gone fishing and instructed me to mind the village in his absence."

"But Doc Z never leaves the village."

The fish laid quietly.

Lily frowned and pressed the red button, "When will he be back?"

"When he gets bored or hungry I suppose. Your questions are lame.", it said sardonically.

Lily's cheeks flushed hot and red. She pushed the button once more and managed to ask as calmly as she could, "Could you please tell me where he went?"

"I already told you, you little nit-wit, he's gone fishing.", the fish began to laugh so hard it almost fell off its mount.

Lily balled her fists and her face went completely red. She screamed at the fish, "Look here you stupid gizmo, the chief needs the Doc now, his bread browner has gone gonzo!"

A huge cloud of magic smoke erupted from the fish and suddenly its mouth was full of razor sharp teeth. Its eyes were red with fire and with a menacing growl it said, "It's called a toaster you nimrod, and when I get down from here I am going to eat your face off!"

Suddenly the door flew open and a very small-very hairy man stood between the two of them. "What's all the commotion out here?", Doc Z frowned looking back and forth between the two troublemakers.

The fish laid down against its mount, the razor teeth gone, and said quietly, "It's all her fault Doctor Zachary sir." Lily stood quietly, her mouth agape. She tried to clam herself then said, "That thing said you were gone. The Chief needs you Doc, his bread brow…", she glanced at the fish, "…toaster, has gone gonzo and he needs your help."

"The Chief doesn't need me Lily, he needs an attitude adjustment, his bad karma seems to be effecting everything these days.", Doc Z said smiling down at her. "I need a little break, so I am going fishing for a while. Tell the Chief I'll be back when I either get bored or hungry."

"But what about his gizmo Doc?", Lily asked nervously, not wanting to go back to Chief Leif without the Doc.

"Tell him to be nice to his bread browner for a change or lock it up until I get back.", he said. He laughed and said, "You might want to tell him to try that with all his gizmos until I get back."

The long siege of the famous Blue Fortress had lasted for eight months. The stronghold was well guarded, with a lot of cattle brought in beforehand that the besieged could easily feed on. Their water came from a stream flowing entirely underground, unreachable, and its source was situated within another rival kingdom's boundaries, so there was no way to poison the river or stop it.

But the King wanted to have the entire fortress burned to the ground because the foreign prince, who owned the castle, had offended his younger daughter by refusing to marry her. To be fair to the rebel prince, it could easily be said that the King's daughter was very ugly and very stupid. On the other hand the prince was used to drifting from one beautiful woman to another and wasn't eager to lose his freedom through marriage - not even to save his own life. Well protected within the walls of Blue Fortress --so called because of the color of the decorations you could admire from afar-- with his well-armed and experienced troops, there was certainly nobody who could capture the stronghold. And facts had showed he was right, at least so far, as a matter of fact…

But there was only one thing harder than the rebel prince's desire for freedom, and it was simply the King's stubbornness. So the long siege had gone on for all those unending, bloody months during which the royal troops had been sent forth continuously to face certain death before those walls which seemed impregnable.

So, it had finally fallen to Tlehb to find a way to overcome the castle's resistance and to save all the combatants he could before the bloodshed went any further. He had been unsuccessful until today, anyway.

The sorcerer had created some strong magical shields to protect the advancing soldiers as they got close to the battlements, but it hadn't been enough as the fortress itself was endowed with unknown defences -- thanks to the rebel prince's ancestors who had developed them long before. These safeguards destroyed the translucent shields themselves when the assaulters approached the site, so the royal troops were protected against the arrows thrown from afar, but not just near the walls. Anyway the King hadn't lost his pride, he wanted the war to be over soon, and therefore Tlehb was told to create a more powerful magical weapon. The mage had tried to do so profusely, but his energies were draining away day by day, without any real change.

It needs to be made immediately clear that Tlehb had solved many problems in the past as a well-known ‘counsellor to the mad King', but this time things looked a bit different. Sixty-years-old, tall but weak, having fought several battles on behalf of his cruel King often for foolish reasons, the greying man was weary of watching so many young men die because of His Majesty. But he had no other choice, as the King had held Tlehb's son as a sort of hostage-guest within the royal palace since he was born, in order to secure his loyalty.

As the sorcerer was walking around the military tents of the besiegers' camp, he saw two men at arms accompanying some carts full of corpses from the last attack.

"How many dead this morning?" Tlehb asked the first one.

"200…" the other replied, lowering his eyes.

Then Tlehb noticed a known face among those lifeless bodies. It was Kluf, his promising apprentice."NO!" he yelled. "You too, my dear? You lost your life on this battlefield for nothing…"

Full of sorrow, Tlehb went back to his tent, bent on finding the way to put an end to all this. He studied the ancient texts all the evening, but fruitlessly. Then, getting angry, he hit the candles on the table and one of them fell on a book. Soon the flames began destroying the old cover but he immediately stopped it using a water incantation. When the man reached the damaged text, he found that under the ashes of the burned corner another paper document lay, apparently hidden. It was only a blank parchment and looked very ancient. It had probably been added to strengthen the book cover itself. But soon a very strange idea came to his mind…The sorcerer took the ink at once and began faking a centuries old grammar style, writing the whole night long with renewed hopes.

At morning's first light, Tlehb went before the King who sat on his stone throne in the battlefield so he could watch the next bloody assault, his devoted servant sitting beside him, and he asked permission to speak.

"Majesty, we'd better quit our siege, for your safety!" the sorcerer exclaimed.

"For my safety, what do you mean…?"

"Please, just have a look at this old parchment I found hidden in an ancient magical text." The man handed it to the King. "It dates back three centuries and clearly shows that any king who conquered the Blue Fortress previously was deposed and killed by his own daughter because of the stronghold's curse!"

"What? Give me that…" and he grabbed the document. After reading it he exclaimed, "True, all the names written here are ancient kings who lost their life in a violent way."

"Exactly! Because their offspring covered up the murders - until today…I suppose they knew about the curse and motivated their fathers to declare war against the fortress in order to use the curse against them."

The King looked at his mage for a while, and then stated, "Well done, Tlehb! Right on time…This bloody, useless war is over, we are going back home!"

The mage bowed respectfully.

"What about your daughter's planned wedding?" the oldest servant of the King, next to the throne, dared to ask him.

"Well, the world is full of fishes…er, princes…" he replied, while quickly turning towards home.

The king had been summoning his chief intercessor during most of the day, after executing other counselors due to their inability to solve the latest problem, which the king had created for himself and the people of his kingdom.

"We're at war," he announced to the members of his court.

The king's guardsmen found the intercessor in an open field, deer hunting with his bow. It meant meat for him and an orphanage of hungry children that he looked out for in what free time he had.

"The king is searching for you and is angry," the strongest of the guard said out of breath.

"This is my day off," the intercessor complained.

"Not anymore. C'mon!" the chief of the king's police stammered grabbing his arms. He strapped his bow around his chest, placed the arrow into his quiver and followed them back to the castle.

As they made it to the door of the throne room, the attendant muttered under his breath, "The axe is falling today," just as the men walked into the hall.

Where have you been - you damn intercessor - as I have been summoning you all day?" the king said glaring straight at him.

"I have served you faithfully for twenty years. Is it too much to ask for a word of kindness or appreciation ever so often?"

I should kill you for keeping me waiting?" the king raged.

"I've been hunting. You told me I could have this day to myself," his unfailing counselor reminded him.

"You may have time off, but you must return when I need you!" the king snorted.

"How would I know this?"

"You're the spiritual one, you divine it! A holy man such as yourself should always know when he is needed," the king demanded.

The intercessor just went on to hear the latest complaint and ranting of his lord. "What is the problem? Did something happen at the summit with the kings of neighboring lands?"

"I have been mocked! I want revenge! I want satisfaction! I want them to know I am the supreme ruler," he gleamed, "Their god! He paused for a moment and then yelled, "I WANT THEM DEAD!"

"How will they know anything if they are dead? Could we lessen the severity of your judgement and temper our reaction with mercy. Give them a chance to repent," the intercessor spoke in hopes of finding another peaceful solution to the king's murderous tirade.

Once again, the king glared at him. "Instead of twenty-four hours," mocking him as he spoke, "my wise, all knowing servant, you now have twelve hours to create a plan to destroy these kingdoms…under penalty of death."

"I have honored you in every way possible these two decades. Why do you speak to me roughly and with so much rancor?"

"Cause you are a Godly man, you man de man, you Godly man you." The king then said with a sly smirk and wincing smile. I'm just waiting for you to fail, so I can see you squirm as my royal executioner takes you away. I'd like to see your God save you from me and my wrath!"

"He has always honored my request for wisdom and witty inventions to further this kingdom and quiet the rage welling up inside your soul. I have prayed for you, but you continue to set impossible standards for mere humans to accomplish and then killing those most loyal to you," the intercessor stood boldly and spoke in a manner which meant certain death.

The king smiled that carried a creepy feel to it. "You have eight hours to complete your plan of destruction…under penalty of death. From this moment on, I want you to speak to me only in Truth. Say not a word to me other than what is true…you hear…under penalty of death!"

"Your anger and wrath is an insatiable scourge on our kingdom. Your mind is half gone by way of hatred!"

The king was smiling, "You have only four hours to complete your mission…or you will die! The king paused and then asked, "Why did the other kings rage against me? Speak to me truly or you shall die!"

The intercessor stood calmly, yet unaware of how this day would end. "They thought you an evil bastard by your angry disposition and dismissed your authority and sovereignty because of your causal disrespect of them.

"You now must resolve this conflict in less than one hour or you WILL die!

The intercessor thought for a minute and then offered this prophetic word. "There is a way to bring peace to this land without war, but it is tough medicine and surely it will be costly."

"I don't want peace," the king seethed, "I want death! Give me death of my kingdom's worst enemies or you shall die!" The king sat on the edge of his throne and said with distinctiveness, "You now have one minute or I will see you die today.

Suddenly, the intercessor removes his bow from off his shoulder, strings it and releases the arrow, finding it's mark through the right eye of the king, pinning his carcass to the throne!

The audience that witnessed this execution gasped, howbeit silently.

The intercessor walked deliberately to the throne, placed his right foot on the chest of the dead king and pulled the arrow out of the wood from which it had fastened the king's body and pulled his body to the floor. He took a seat on the now vacant throne while the citizens watched in awe.

Finally, the executioner inquired out loud, "What about the king's order for your death?"

The intercessor said casually looking around the room, "I think he had that backwards, wouldn't you say?

Lolethe, the King's sorceress spent the better part of the afternoon preparing for the banquet. A bath in asses' milk, followed by a massage made her skin supple. Fennel seeds freshened her breath. Chamomile steeped in rain water brought out golden highlights in her waist length hair. A sleeveless shift spun from spider silk showed off womanly curves that were usually hidden under a heavy, black woolen robe. A concoction of mamba venom, poppy nectar and red pepper taken in minute doses enhanced her natural pheromones.

The court ladies would be wearing jewels—diamonds, rubies, sapphires set in gold. Lolethe's only ornament was a red camellia tucked behind her ear. She draped a gossamer thin shawl over her shoulders, checked her face in the mirror, found the perfect smile—not too bold, not too demure—then she left her quarters . It was half past seven.

The walk from her tower to the banquet hall took her through the barracks. Soldiers who were used to seeing the sorceress on the battlefield dressed in leather armor and wielding a staff stopped what they were doing and stared. A love struck young cadet tripped over a wooden footstool and landed on the floor at Lolethe's feet. She stepped over him daintily.

Down another corridor, left at the library, right at the solarium. This part of the castle had thick carpets and embroidered tapestries to muffle sounds and keep out the cold. The armored guards were too well trained to stare at the sorceress as she descended the grand stairway, one hand on the banister, the other lifting the hem of her silken gown, revealing a shapely ankle and carefully pedicured feet. But the servants carrying trays of food from the kitchen whispered to each other.

"The witch is dressed for battle."

"Who do you think she's after this time?"

The church bell struck eight. Lolethe waited for the sound to die before stepping into the banquet hall. Candlelight made her hair glimmer like spun gold. The breeze from the open door carried her scent to the head of the table, where King Alric was making a toast. He faltered. His eyes met hers. Surprise gave way to delight.

"Here she is! The architect of our latest military triumph. Dame Lolethe."

The sorceress inclined her head slightly as the guests applauded. Her silk robe rustled as she moved towards the head of the table. The chair to the king's left, the place of honor was empty. A liveried servant seated her. She turned to Alric. Leaning forward, she murmured "I hope this feast won't go on all night."

The king took in her clinging gown, her dilated pupils, her sweetly seductive smile. It had been a long time since the sorceress had approached him like this. Rumor said that she had a lover. But tonight, she was not acting like a woman with a secret paramour. Tonight, she was his old Lolethe, as lovely to look at as she was deadly on the battlefield, where her ironwood staff could call down lightening and summon demons.

Alric found an excuse to cut the feast short. Ignoring the daughters of the kingdom's nobles, who had piled on furs, jewels and perfume in order to attract his attention, he escorted Dame Lolethe to her tower and was not seen again that night.

Four weeks later, a much more modestly dressed Lolethe visited the King in his chambers. Her hands were clasped protectively over her belly. Bowing her head, she said contritely "It's my fault. I should have taken precautions. But I was overwhelmed by passion."

Alric paced back and forth in front of the roaring fire. His red hair was in disarray. "You're sure you are pregnant?"

"Quite sure."

"And the baby's mine?"

She pretended to be hurt. "You're the only man I've been with."

The king frowned. He had planned to attack Freeport, the large trading city on the far side of the Windy Lake as soon as the water froze over. A quick victory, install a viceroy and then back home before the spring thaw. Now that plan was in ruins.

"You could get rid of it, " he suggested. It seemed like a sensible solution to him, and he was unprepared for her response.

Tears sprang to her eyes. "Please don't make me do that. It's a boy. I know it is!" She fell to her knees before him. "If I stop using magic now, he'll be born healthy. But if I don't stop—"

There was no need for her to elaborate. Alric had seen what kind of monsters sorceresses bore when they continued to practice the dark arts during pregnancy. The thought of his first son and likely heir being born with cloven hooves or a misshapen head made him feel physically ill. "You're right. You must stop using all magic, at least until the child is born."

"That won't be enough. When your enemies realize I can't use magic, they'll send assassins to kill me and the baby. I'll need to go into hiding. Someplace far away where they won't think to look for me." Her blue eyes were wide and pleading. "For the sake of our child."

And so, a few days later, Dame Lolethe, the sorceress left the castle, accompanied by her maid and confidante, Sarabeth and her bodyguard, Sir Aubrey, a handsome young man with coal black hair and laughing brown eyes.

"How long do we have?" asked Aubrey, her secret lover.

"Eight months," replied the sorceress smugly. "We'll head for the mountains. I have a cottage up there where no one will disturb us. When it's time to come back, we'll stop off in Westmark."

"Why Westmark?"

She threw back her head and laughed. "Because you can buy a red haired orphan cheap in Westmark. We'll pick up a healthy newborn boy. The king will be delighted to finally have an heir."