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first I attributed it to the illness which consumes me, but it is more than that, I fear. It is for Mensandor that my unease persists. There is some distress in the realm.”
    The Dragon King spoke softly and distinctly, and Quentin realized that Eskevar had so long been the head of his land that he had developed a special feeling for it and knew instinctively when something was wrong. It was as if part of him were hurt, and he felt the wound. He had discerned trouble before anyone else had suspected even the slightest eddy in the current of peace and prosperity that flowed through the kingdom.
    It struck him—absurdly at first, but with growing conviction—that perhaps what ailed the land was the cause of the king’s distress as well.
    â€œTo prove my intuition I summoned the faithful Theido and Ronsard to me and sent them with a small force to discover, it they could, whence the trouble came.
    â€œThe time for their return is now past. I have received no word or sign from them, and I am anxious for what may have befallen them. That is why I have summoned you.” He nodded to Quentin and Toli. “It becomes ever more urgent that we discover the source of our harm before it is too late. There is evil afoot; I feel it. Each day it grows stronger. If we do not find it soon and crush it out . . .”
    â€œMy lord,” said Toli, “we have seen portents which would indicate the prudence of your fears.”
    â€œAnd
I as well,” agreed Durwin.
    Toli and Durwin shared with the king the signs they had observed, foreshadows of an impending evil they could not identify. Quentin noted that as his two comrades spoke, and especially when they mentioned the Wolf Star, Eskevar appeared to fall even further beneath the weight of his kingdom’s peril.
    After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the king spoke solemnly. “Quentin and Toli, my brave friends, we must discover wherein our danger lies. My people require your courage.”
    â€œWe will go at once and seek out this evil. And it may be we will find good Theido and Ronsard as well,” Toli offered boldly.
    Quentin said nothing but stared from one to another of the faces around the table.
    â€œVery well,” sighed the king. “You know I would not send you out thus if I thought it were but a small thing, or if another could serve as well.”
    He turned and looked at Durwin thoughtfully. “You, sir, I did not summon, but as usual, one who knows me better than I know myself has doubtless interceded.” He smiled again, and Quentin saw a flicker of the former man. The king continued, “I will detain you, good hermit, that you may remain with me. I may soon have need of your ministrations, and perchance your arts will be better employed here than on the back of a horse.”
    â€œSo it is,” replied Durwin. “I will abide.”
    The king rose with some difficulty and dismissed them, asking his two warriors, “How soon will you ride?”
    â€œWe will leave at once, Sire,” said Toli.
    â€œIt is well; but stay and share my table tonight, at least. I want to see my friends all together before . . .” He did not finish the thought.
    The three arose, bowed, and went quietly out. At the door Quentin turned and was about to speak. He looked at Eskevar, and his eyes filled with tears; no words would come. He bowed quickly, then went out, too overwhelmed to say what he felt in his heart.

8
    T he village has been subdued, Most Excellent One.” The rider bowed low in his saddle. Behind him black smoke ascended in a thick, dark column to be scattered by the wind blowing in from the sea. His sorrel pony jerked its reins and tossed its head, its hide besmeared with soot and dried blood. “There was no resistance.”
    Savage eyes watched the messenger from beneath the rim of an iron helm ornamented with black plumes that fluttered like wings in the wind. The warlord said nothing,