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.But must it be this way?""You are Kendrick of Corwell? And of Freeman's Down?""The same.""We have fought, ourselves, scarce more than a year since.You have great skill – and fortune."And you, lady?" asked the Red King, turning to Robyn."You, too, fought well, your sorcery helped break the spell of evil that bound us.""Mine is the magic of faith, not sorcery.There is a great difference." She smiled at him faintly, her eyes inscrutable.He nodded, not understanding the distinction.Suddenly he remembered the scrolls and the promise they seemed to offer.He bent and retrieved the long tube from beneath the deck, offering it mutely to her.He was not sure why, but it seemed right that she should have it.Perhaps it was a way of repaying the debt he owed these Ffolk for saving his life, though it was more than his sense of obligation that caused him to give the scroll to the beautiful druid."It was claimed as a thing of great value," he explained awkwardly."Is it of use to you?"Robyn took the ivory tube, barely stifling a gasp.She stroked the elaborate carvings reverently before looking at the northman.His face was taut with tension, she saw, as if he desperately hoped that she would value the gift.She looked again at the runes.They were strange, not druidic in nature, but at the same time almost identical to a series of carvings her teacher had made along a short piece of wood, a runestick, that Genna had given Robyn as a gift.This was obviously a talisman of great power, sacred to some god not very different from her own."It's very precious… a thing of power.Where did you get it?"From the look of sudden anguish on the fierce raider's face, she knew she had hurt him with her question.She guessed that the tube was the plunder of some raid, though why Grunnarch should be troubled by that fact she couldn't begin to guess."Never mind," she added quickly."It is a thing of tremendous value.I thank you for giving it to me.""It is a small reward for the gift of my life and my ship," replied Grunnarch solemnly.The Red King turned back to Tristan."Your actions are more puzzling, as you must know I was with the army that would have put your home to the torch.How can you forgive one who has done you such evil?""For one thing, you're no longer accompanied by your powerful ally," remarked Tristan.The vision of the Beast, Kazgoroth, growing from the body of a man into a monster towering over a castle wall, came quickly into Tristan's mind.He remembered the terror and awe of that moment as if it had occurred yesterday.Grunnarch's face flushed."Ally?" he spat."It was a thing of great evil! It slew one of our greatest kings and took his body for its own foul purposes! We were little more than mindless weapons in its hands!""Perhaps that can explain why we aided you.Evil such as that still haunts the Moonshaes.As long as we strive to destroy each other, we make the task of that evil so much easier.I ask you, Grunnarch, King of Norland, would we not do better to join forces to combat this evil?"The Red King looked Tristan full in the face, then nodded slowly."You speak with the wisdom of a much older king.But what of this evil you speak of? It still threatens our lands? Where, and how, shall we fight it?""Come with me to Corwell," said the High King."We will talk of it there."The histories of lands, peoples, and nations are made of many tiny events.Most are insignificant, their impact gone with the moment of their passing.But some of these events have an impact extending far beyond their occurrence.These events are things that can shape and change history for countless years into the future.Grunnarch the Red extended his broad hand, and Tristan Kendrick took it in his firm clasp.Their eyes met, bold and frank.An event of the latter type had just occurred.* * * * *The corruption of Genna Moonsinger struck the goddess like a physical blow.It fell all the more heavily since the great druid had not even been granted the dignified defeat of death but had instead become a tool of the very evil she had striven to defeat.The Earthmother felt the presence of her servant's body but could not reach out to her soul.Genna had been freed from her prison of stone, only to be entrapped in a spiritual corruption more vile than any form of death.For a time, it seemed as if the land itself would wither and die in sympathy with the mother's grief.Indeed, winter hastened its approach, reaching frosty fingers across the Moonshaes, eagerly striking the last leaves from those trees still carrying vestiges of foliage
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