"So… perhaps you are worthy…"

He spun about, at last sighting the night-enshrouded form of the traitorous sentry. However, common sense now told Malevolyn that what he had taken for one of his own men surely had to be something far more powerful, not to mention sinister…

"I know you now…" he muttered. Then his eyes widened slightly as truth dawned. "Or should I say… I know what you are… demon…"

The other figure laughed quietly, laughed as no man could. Before the astounded eyes of General Malevolyn,the sentry's shape twisted, grew, changed into that not born of the mortal plane. It towered over the human and where there had been four limbs now six materialized. The foremost appeared as great scythes with needle points, the middle as skeletal hands with deadly claws, and the last, serving as legs, bent back in a manner much like the hind limbs of the insect the demon most resembled.

A mantis. Amantis from Hell.

"Hail to you, General Augustus Malevolyn of Westmarch, warrior, conqueror, emperor-and true heir to the Warlord of Blood." The hideous insect performed a bizarre bow, the sharp points of the scythes digging into the sand. "This one congratulates you on your worthiness…"

Malevolyn glanced at his hand, now empty of any weapon. The magical blade had vanished the moment it had no longer been needed-and yet the general felt certain that, in the future, he could summon that blade whenever necessary.

"You're the voice in my head," the commander finally replied. "You're the voice that cajoles me…"

The demon tilted his own head to the side, glowing bulbous eyes flaring once. "This one did not cajole… simply encouraged."

"And if I had not passed this little test?"

"Then this one would have been terribly disappointed."

The creature's words caused General Malevolyn to chuckle despite the implications in the response. "Damned good thing I didn't fail, then." One hand reached up to adjust the helmet while Malevolyn thought. First had come the visions, then the increase in his otherwise limited powers-and now this magical blade and a demon to boot. Truly it had to be as the mantis had proclaimed; Augustus Malevolyn had indeed earned the mantle of Bartuc.

"You are worthy," the demon chittered. "So says this one-Xazax, I am called-but still one thing remains outside your grasp! One thing must you have before Bartuc you become!"

General Malevolyn understood. "The armor. The armor that fool of a peasant wears! Well, it comes to me even now from across the sea! Galeona says it approaches Lut Gholein, which is why we march there now." He considered. "Perhaps now would be a good time to see what she can learn. Maybe with your aid…"

"Best to not speak of me to your sorceress, great one!" Xazax chittered with what seemed some anxiety. "Her kind… cannot always be trusted. They are better not dealt with at all…"

Malevolyn briefly mulled over the demon's statement. Xazax almost spoke as if he and Galeona shared a history, which, in retrospect, would hardly have surprised the general. The witch dealt with dark powers almost on a continuous basis. What did interest him, however, was that this creature did not want her to know what was now being discussed. A falling out? A betrayal? Well, if it served Malevolyn, then so much the better.

He nodded. "Very well. Until I decide what must be done, we'll leave her ignorant of our conversation."

"This one appreciates your understanding…"

"By all means." The general had no more time to concern himself with the sorceress. Xazax had raised a point of much more interest to him. "But you spoke of the armor? Do you know something of it?"

Again the foul mantis bowed. Even in the starlight, the general could see the horrendous veins coursing all over its body, veins that pulsated without pause. "By now, this fool has brought it to Lut Gholein… but there he can hide it within the city's walls, keep it from he to whom it truly belongs…"

"I had thought of that." In fact, General Malevolyn hadconsidered it much during the journey, considered it and grown more and more enraged, although he had revealed no outward sign of that fury to anyone else. A part of him felt certain that he could seize Lut Gholein and, thus, capture the peasant who wore the armor, but a more practical part had also counted up the losses on his own side and found them far too great. Failure still remained well within the realms of possibility. Malevolyn had, in truth, hoped to keep his army beyond the sight and knowledge of the kingdom and wait for the stranger to head out to the desert on his own. Unfortunately, the general could not necessarily trust that the fool would do as he desired.

Xazax leaned closer. "The kingdom, it is a strong one, with many soldiers well versed in the art of war. He who has the armor would feel quite safe in there."

"I know."

"But this one can give you the key with which to make Lut Gholein yours… a force most terrible… a force which no mortal army can subdue."

Malevolyn could scarcely believe what he had just heard. "Are you suggesting—"

The demon suddenly looked back toward the camp as if he had heard some sound. After a momentary pause, Xazax quickly returned his attention to the human. "When but a day separates you from the city, we shall speak again. There, you must be prepared to do this…"

The commander listened as the demon explained. At first even he felt repulsed by what the creature suggested, but then, as Xazax told him why it must be so, Augustus Malevolyn himself saw the need-and felt the growing excitement.

"You will do this?" the mantis asked.

"Yes… yes, I will… and gladly."

"Then we shall speak soon." Without warning, Xazax's form began to grow indistinct, quickly becoming moreshadow than substance. "Until then, hail to you once again, general! This one honors the successor of Bartuc! This one honors the new master of demons! This one honors the new Warlord of Blood!"

With that, the last vestiges of Xazax faded into the night.

General Malevolyn immediately started back to camp, his mind already racing, the words of the monstrous mantis still echoing in his head. This night had become a turning point for him, with all his dreams coming together at last. The demon's test and the manner by which Malevolyn had passed it paled in comparison to what Xazax now offered-the armor and the method that would guarantee that it and Lut Gholein fell into the general's hands with little trouble.

Master of demons, the mantis had said.

One more night to get through. One more night and the King's Shield would dock in the port of Lut Gholein.

One more night and Kara would be alone in the strange land, alone save for her two grotesque companions.

She had returned with her evening meal just as before and eaten it under the watchful eyes of the two undead. Fauztin had remained standing in the corner, the dour Vizjerei looking like some macabre statue, but of late Sadun Tryst had edged closer, the more talkative of the two ghouls now seated on a bench built into the wall nearest her bed. The wiry ghoul even tried to make conversation with her on occasion, something that the necromancer could have done well without.

Yet, one subject interested her enough to force her to speak with him for a time and that subject concerned the ever elusive Norrec Vizharan. Kara had noticed something odd about the way Tryst spoke of his former comrade. His words seemed to hold no malice at all for hismurderer. Most of the time, he simply regaled her with tales of their adventures together. Tryst even seemed to feel some remorse for the veteran soldier despite the horrible acts Norrec had committed.

"He saved… my life… three times and more…" the ghoul concluded, after being coaxed once more into speaking of his treacherous friend. "Never a war… as bad as… that one."