Hkuan'duv lashed forward with his curved bone knife.

Sgaile spun low, sweeping with his leg, but Hkuan'duv hopped sidewise as Sgaile barely achieved his crouch. Before the Greimasg'ah's feet touched earth, Sgaile was up again, but he did not close on the master among his caste. He stood his ground, maintaining a defensive posture. He knew he could not win on pure skill against Hkuan'duv's experience and skills.

Hkuan'duv charged again, and his lunging foot slid forward along the ground.

Sgaile took a wide step left, folding his trailing leg, and kicked down at Hkuan'duv's face. The Greimasg'ah hit the ground in a straddle and slapped Sgaile's foot aside without pause. Sgaile swung that foot back, trying to pivot on the other one.

He twisted with both stilettos inward, shielding his abdomen. Hkuan'duv simply leaned out in his straddle and hooked Sgaile's grounded foot with his free hand.

Sgaile could not get his other foot down, and the Greimasg'ah's stab came an instant later than anticipated.

As Sgaile began to topple, a stiletto sank to the hilt in the side of his chest.

He choked, not out of pain or even fear of death, but from shame at failure in his oath.

He slashed out with his bone knife just before his back hit the earth. The impact drove the remaining breath from his lungs.

Sgaile felt blood choking him from within and could not breathe. All he could do was roll his head, searching for his opponent. Hkuan'duv had frozen, staring back in startled denial-and his free hand was clamped about his own throat.

Blood welled between his fingers.

Sgaile watched as if through someone else's eyes as Hkuan'duv fell over. The Greimasg'ah crumpled limp upon the wet sod.

Sgaile heard Osha's cry, and then blood welled in his throat, filling his mouth.

The world was already dark when Sgaile closed his eyes.

Wynn shuddered as Osha shouted, "Jeoin!"

The female elf froze and half-turned.

"Sgaile!" Leesil yelled.

Magiere charged the elven woman but never reached her target. Chap slammed into the woman's legs and both tumbled down the knoll. They hit the water and thrashed free of each other.

Wynn shoved Osha's arm aside, and ran out in the middle of them, screaming, "No more!"

The elven woman stood shin-deep in the murky water as she saw her fallen comrade. Osha reached Sgaile before Leesil and dropped to his knees beside his teacher. Magiere turned, ready to lunge downslope at the elven woman.

Wynn grabbed Magiere's sword arm with both hands, not knowing what else to do. Before she shouted another word, Osha's voice rose in Elvish.

"Is this the way of our caste?" he cried, pointing to the Greimasg'ah as he gripped Sgaile's still form. "Is this what Most Aged Father would want?"

The elven woman's blank gaze slipped from her fallen companion-but not to Osha. She glared at Wynn-and hatred overran her shock. She turned that hate on Magiere as she backed farther into the water.

"Kill her!" Magiere snapped. "Bring her down, Chap!"

Chap stalked after the woman, paws hammering through murky water.

"No!" Wynn shouted.

"Get off of me," Magiere snarled, and tried to shove Wynn away.

Wynn slipped her arms tightly around Magiere's waist and hung on with all her weight. "Chap, let her go!" she called.

She will tell her kind where we are! I will not allow this!

"They found us-they already know!" Wynn shouted back. "More killing will not change that!"

Chap slowed to a halt but did not turn. His whole body appeared to shake under his rumble.

Wynn saw horror spread over the elven woman's face.

The female anmaglahk shook her head once in denial or disbelief as she stared off toward the Greimasg'ah's limp form.

"Go!" Osha shouted, and his voice broke in pain. "Tell Father that the Greimasg'ah is dead… because he demanded Sgailsheilleache break his oath of guardianship… break with our people's own ways!"

Osha choked out these words as Magiere ceased struggling, and Wynn turned her head to look at the young elf.

Osha and Leesil knelt to either side of Sgaile. But as Leesil took Sgaile's face in his hands, Osha reeled, hanging his head over his teacher.

"Sgaile?" Leesil hissed. "Sgaile… look at me!"

Sgaile did not move, and Wynn stopped breathing.

"Tell Most Aged Father…," Osha went on with head bowed, his voice turning steady and low, "tell him how we spilled the blood of our own… and see what is left for us because of it!"

He swung his downcast head toward the elven woman but only raised his eyes to her. There was something on his face that Wynn had never seen there before.

Pure and naive, desperately longing to be Anmaglahk, Osha had never shown hate to anyone. But that was how he looked at the woman of his own caste and people.

"I will care for them both," he said to her. "Go, and wash your hands of our own blood… if you can!"

The woman turned and fled.

Chap made one lunge to follow but pursued no farther. Magiere lurched toward the knoll's shallow slope, dragging Wynn halfway before stopping.

"Let her go," Leesil said. "It's over."

Wynn let go of Magiere and ran to crouch beside Osha.

Sgaile's eyes were closed. Blood seeped from his slack mouth over Leesil's hands. A stiletto was buried to its hilt in the side of Sgaile's chest. Wynn put her hand on him.

"Sgailsheilleache," she whispered.

Osha's arms wrapped around her, pulling her away. She felt his tight, rigid body against her back as she watched Sgaile's face for any flutter of eyelid.

Leesil jerked the stiletto out, casting it blindly into the marsh. The gash on his face dripped blood off his chin. Like red tears, they struck the dank ground and vanished.

Wynn wished Sgaile would berate her for foolishness-just once more.

Leesil sat numbly within the shack, ignoring Wynn dabbing the blood from his face.

Sgaile was gone. So superstitious and stubborn, with all his blind faith in spirits and codes and customs… he was worth so much more than his oath of guardianship.

Leesil's wound wasn't deep, but with nothing to fully close it, Wynn could only wrap his head in a bandage from another shredded shirt. The wound would leave a marked scar, but she said he would suffer no permanent damage.

At least not in flesh, and he cared little about scars.

One more meant nothing, though this one would be prominent compared to the faded marks that Ratboy's fingernails had left on his jaw. By the time Wynn finished, Leesil heard someone hacking at wood outside of the shack.

He pushed Wynn's hands away and stepped out beneath a clouded sky.

Chap sat out front, still watching where the elven woman had run off. The dog turned as Leesil emerged and headed silently toward the shack's rear. Leesil followed and found Magiere and Osha there.

They had slashed away at the underbrush until both were soaked to their elbows and knees from the wet vegetation. In the cleared space's center, near the old man's fresh grave, lay Sgaile's body and that of the other anmaglahk. The two rested upon a pallet of the firewood taken from behind the shack.

"You don't wish to bury them?" Leesil asked.

Magiere began covering the bodies with brush. Osha halted but didn't look at Leesil.

"We bring body home when can," he said in broken Belaskian. "If cannot, then ashes… and if not ashes, then leave behind in hiding. But not bury."

Osha had cleaned their weapons and set these aside. Magiere halted suddenly, looking about with weary eyes.

"Not enough wood," she sighed. "Even green wood might help once the blaze gets going."

She headed for the shack's far rear corner and the willow rising above the structure. Before she could take a swing with the falchion, Osha seized her raised arm.