[Author]

Author and Blaymore left Montfort on horseback. They had secured two horses, which Blaymore claimed belonged to a local cloth merchant who would not miss them. Author still considered it stealing, but, since they were on the trail of a dangerous fugitive, the thefts were the a relatively minor evil. They rode hard and fast, placing undue stress on Author's injuries. Blaymore's potion was beginning to wear off, and pain was slowly returning to Author's head and ribs.

Blaymore had also managed to secure a sword from one of the slaughtered Night's Bloom guards. He gave the weapon to Author as they prepared the horses. Now, no longer unarmed, Author felt ready to face his quarry, the man known as December. His resolve was tested, however, as they neared Bephal.

The battlefield was still littered with weapons and blood. The bodies had been removed. The fight had occurred not too long ago; the frozen foliage surrounding the clearing had not yet thawed. Blaymore dismounted and began to examine the footprints and spilt blood, while Author was more interested in the misshapen clumps of ice that lay scattered about. Author picked up a piece, and dropped it immediately when he recognized it as a human hand.

"Damn." he murmured.

"Come here!" shouted Blaymore. "Look at this."

Author walked over to where Blaymore was kneeling, and looked down at a large depression in the earth.

"Something large made this". said Blaymore.

"Ice golem." Author ran his fingers across the print. The earth surrounding it was frozen solid. "How are we going to fight such power with just swords?"

"We? I have no intention of fighting December. And neither should you if you wish to remain alive."

"Then why are you here? Why did you help me?"

"I told you."

"Yes. He has something that you want. Tell me, what is it that this monster has stolen from you?"

"He has stolen nothing from me. The thieves have paid for their crime, but my property has since changed hands many times. December has it now."

"And what is it?"

Blaymore thought for a moment, then spoke.

"A woman, an assassin, attacked December in the market square. In Bephal. He killed her."

"Julia Trisk."

"And the weapon she used? The dagger?"

"Never recovered. Plenty of witnesses saw her wielding it, but afterwards, no one could say what happened to it."

"December has it."

"A dagger? You're doing all of this because December has your favorite knife?"

"The Dagger of Malfaygure is a powerful weapon that was entrusted to my care. It is very dangerous," Blaymore looked deep into Author's eyes, "Very Dangerous."

Author nodded. Keeping powerful weapons out of December's hands was as good a reason as any.

The pair mounted their horses and rode the remaining distance to Bephal in silence.

[Rade]

Rade let himself into the stables with his own key. Torches along the wall ignited as he entered, more of Jerimiah's magic. He had no idea why Jerimiah had such a liking for hiding things in stables, and at the moment, he did not care. He only wanted to retrieve his money, and meet with what remained of the Town Guard. They would have to do something about Jerimiah Trisk, no matter how formidable his power. Extortion and racketeering was one thing, but the old man had crossed the line. He was into something much more sinister. He was trying to revive the dead, and he was using Rade and the rest of the Town Guard to do it. They had retrieved the body from the cemetery for him. They had captured December for him, and lost a lot of good men doing it. Rade now considered his dealings with the old man to be completed... or they would be as soon as he retrieve this final payment.

Rade entered an empty horse stall and kicked aside an old bucket that stood in the corner. Beneath the bucket was a small sack, filled with gold coins. He reached down, grabbed the money and was exiting the stall when there was a sound at the stable entrance. It was the gate closing, but Rade had closed the gate behind him. Someone was in there with him. Rade placed his hand on his sword.

"Who's there?"

"It's true, isn't it Rade? December was right."

Rade recognized the voice.

"Author?"

A figure detached itself from the shadows and stepped into the dim light of the stable. It was Author.

"Surprised to see me?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. You're supposed to be in Montfort."

"Right. Montfort." Author approached the Captain of the Guard. As he did so, Rade could see the bandages on Authors head and around his chest. Author walked as if something pained him.

"What happened to you?" asked Rade.

"He tortured me. Wanted me to tell him what I knew. I would have told him, too, if I had known anything. But that was the problem. I DIDN'T know. I didn't have a clue as to what was going on. After all, I was just a pawn, wasn't I? An insignificant pawn, sent to help Trisk's plans in Montfort go smoothly. And for what? How much blood money do you have there, Rade?"

"What are you talking about?"

"We saw you as we came into town. Followed you here."

"We? Who is 'We'"?"

"Trisk owns this stable, doesn't he?"

Rade readied his weapon; he knew where this was going. Trisk had wanted Author dead, but that didn't of course that didn't matter now. Rade would much rather let the man live, but he knew too much. There was still a chance to settle things with Trisk without the whole thing becoming public. Author would be a problem. He had to die.

"So how much do you have there. What's the going price for your loyalty?"

"Author, this is nothing personal. At least not for me." Rade drew his sword and waited for Author to do the same. He didn't have to wait long. With weapon drawn, Author charged. Rade blocked the blow and countered with a low jab. Author spun out of the way, narrowly avoiding a fatal cut.

"You fight well for an injured man." Rade lunged. Author parried.

"Tell me what he's up to, Rade. What's this all about... or do you even know?" Author stepped in with a feint, Rade's reaction placed the Captain slightly off balance. Author tried to take advantage of the moment, but Rade's recovery was too quick. He blocked, and Author's slash bounced harmlessly off of Rade's armor.

"You don't want to know, Author. I didn't know what I was getting into. What I was getting us all into." Rade made three quick strikes. Author blocked two of them, and the third would have opened up the man's thigh if it hadn't been deflected by... by what? Rade was confused. That blow should have connected, but something blocked it...

"Is it revenge? Is that it? Trisk wants revenge for Julia?"

"No." Rade launched into a series of viscous attacks. Author countered as best he could, but, even at full strength he was no match for his superior. He would surely fallen if it weren't for Blaymore's invisible assistance.

Again, Rade was dumbfounded. Author was fighting better than he should have, even if he weren't injured.

"What then. What's Trisk up to?" Author launched his own attack. The blows bounced off of Rade's sword and armor, except for two which seemed to have come out of nowhere. Rade's arm and leg were now bleeding profusely from precision swordstrikes into the joints of his armor. How could Author have done that?

"What the hell's going on here?!"

"That's my question, Rade. What IS going on?" Author slashed; Rade countered.

"Necromancy. Trisk is trying to raise Julia from the dead. And he needs December to do it." The men exchanged blows again. "We captured him outside of town. He has everything he needs now. But don't worry. After I've put you down, I'll deal with Trisk AND December. "

Rade made a clumsy lunge, which turned out to be a feint. Author stepped off balance and was almost caught with a front kick to the ribs. Instead of connecting, however, Rade's boot was slapped aside by some invisible force.

"All right! How are you doing that!"

"That's all we need to know," said a third voice. Rade stared in disbelief as a cloaked figure materialized beside Author.

"Who are you?" demanded Rade.

"Death," replied the figure. The man made a sudden motion. Before Rade could fathom what was happening, his sword fell to the ground. His hand was still grasping the hilt. The hand was still attached to his arm.

Rade fell to his knees, a look of shock and surprise draped across his face. He looked up at Author.

"..ss-sorry....f-forgive me?" he gasped.

"No." said Author. He thrust his sword through the dying man's chest, impaling him.

Blaymore retrieved Author's sword and began cleaning it while Author leaned against the stable wall to catch his breath. They both jumped when the golem crashed through the gate and lumbered straight toward them. Blaymore vanished, then reappeared a second later.

"No good. It isn't alive, can't be fooled by illusions. Into the stall!" Blaymore shoved Author into the empty stall that had contained Rade's gold. Author fell to the ground, wincing with pain. He rolled over, and saw Blaymore, sword drawn, ready to do battle with the creature.

The thing with December's face approached, and Blaymore backed away slowly. He kept moving back, until Author thought he was about to trip over Rade's body. Then, suddenly, Blaymore danced to one side, and let the golem walk past him.

"It isn't after us!" shouted Blaymore. The golem leaned down and picked up Rade's limp corpse. Holding the body in one hand, it grasped the head in another and gave it a sharp twist, snapping the neck and 'killing' Rade. The golem threw Rade against the rear wall of the stable, turned, and walked out the way it came. It gave no indication that it had even seen Author and Blaymore.

"Gods!" exclaimed Author.

"The body was still warm. Must've thought he was still alive."

"We should follow it."

"No need. We know where it's going."

"Jerimiah Trisk."

"And December is there as well."

"Ice golems, and two of the most dangerous men in Bephal." Author sighed

"If we're lucky, they'll kill each other."

"And if we're not?"

Blaymore merely stared back at Author.

With that, the two men left the stable and headed off towards the city.

[December]

With the assistance of J'Hasp's nimble claws, December gained his freedom from the small cell and immediately set about entering the adjoining one. The door swung outward revealing a dark room. Light from the hallway barely penetrated the cell, but December could make out large stone table, with some kind of figure lying prone upon it.

"Find us a light, J'Hasp."

The creature disappeared into the darkness, and, moments later, the room was illuminated. J'Hasp had found a small oil lamp. December stepped inside, and marveled at what he saw. The room was a simple stone cell, like the one that had held him, but there were runes of power carved into almost every inch of the walls. A stone altar rose from the center of the cell.

Jerimiah Trisk had spent considerable time on his ice creations, carefully carving his enemy's face into each one before animating it. Those efforts were nothing compared to what must have gone into the intricate creature of metal and wood which lay upon the altar before December. The term 'golem' did not do the creature justice; it was more like some kind of machine. The thing had been carved and assembled to mimic the human figure precisely, down to the smallest detail. Wooden limbs were fastened with metal joints to a perfectly proportioned frame. It was lifelike in every way possible, and the head was a marvel in itself. Tiny joints and sliding plates in the lips, eyebrows, and cheeks gave the face a full range of human expression. The eyes were blue Crystal, or possibly some type of tinted diamond. Smooth and sharp, like daggers. Shoulder-length golden strands framed the face... and the face was that of Julia Trisk.

December looked into the eyes of Jerimiah's daughter, and saw life. There was no movement... but there was something.

"She is alive."

J'Hasp hissed and backed himself into a corner, nearly knocking over a large double-edged sword that was positioned there. No doubt, it was intended as a weapon for the golem once it was animated.

December glanced around, searching for something to help him explain what he was seeing. He found a large leather-bound book on a small stone table. Also on the table was another book, a ceremonial dagger, and a stone bowl. December flipped through the book and found the answer immediately. The book seemed to fly open at exactly at the correct page. More of Jerimiah's magic

"Knight of Vengeance," he read aloud. He scanned the pages silently, and then carefully placed the book back on the table.

"Masster?"

"Powerful magic, my friend. A golem powered purely by hatred. Vengeance. Violence. The work is almost done. The soul has been summoned and bound to its new body. All that remains, is the blood of its murderer, and the Knight shall rise."

"Blood?"

"Yes."

December opened a small compartment hidden in the golem's chest and peered inside. Inside was a human heart.

"Born of violence. The blood of the killer, when poured upon the heart of the victim, shall cause the golem to animate. It will live only for vengeance. It's sole purpose for existing will be the destruction of the one who caused its death. Only the one who performs the ceremony has power to override its nature. Like all golems, it will be bound to its creator, and will obey only him. Trisk intends to revive his daughter in this form, with my blood. Her soul lives within this wooden frame even now. I can feel her rage. She sees me. She is staring out at me through those crystal eyes. She wants to reach out and strangle me; take up that sword and plunge it through my heart. But no... Trisk must keep me alive, even after she rises. Once I die, the golem has no reason to exist. It dies too. He has committed himself to my continued existence, which I will no doubt spend being tortured in that cell."

"Desstroy it, Masster! Desstroy it!"

"Oh, no, J'Hasp." December picked up the small dagger and placed the sharp blade against the palm of his hand, "Jerimiah has toiled long and hard to have his beloved daughter returned to him. Who am I to deny him?"