The Crystal War Saga

By Roderick Donatus

When he searches for an ancient secret he awakens a dark enemy. Now he needs to stop them to prevent the second apocalypse.

 

When Finn accidentally unearths a Manhir, a mythical creature of legend that heralded the apocalypse a thousand years ago, the Inquisition brands him a heretic. Sentenced to death for his discovery, Finn flees with the Manhir's help.

 

Pursued across the realm, they search for ancient knowledge to clear Finn's name. As they stumble upon long lost legends they awaken an ancient enemy out to enslave mankind and exterminate the Manhir.

 

War erupts as their enemies ravage the lands. Finn tries to unite the remaining human strongholds, even as he searches for a way to end the war. However, in his desparate search for allies to weather the oncoming storm, he wonders who he needs to fear more – his enemies or his friends?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Prince of Spires
• Release date: Sep 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9789493334038

Roderick Donatus

Hi! I'm Roderick. The first story I remember writing was a retelling of 'Little Red Riding Hood', told from the perspective of the wolf. I wrote it as a play for my hand puppets. At the time, I thought it was incredibly inventive. And it was pretty terrible. I was also 8 years old. I never did finish that story, but I did fall in love with stories and story telling. I'm never far from a good book. And while I'll read almost anything, I have a preference for reading and writing fantasy. After dabbling with writing stories over the years I finally sat down to write a book in 2019. And I haven't stopped yet. When I'm not writing I spend most of my time with my wife and two daughters. Any remaining time goes to rock climbing, gardening and trying to play the guitar.

Book preview

The Crystal War Saga

Defender of Gilgin

Betrayer of Gilgin

Savior of Gilgin

Roderick Donatus

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

The Crystal War Saga

First edition. September 30, 2023.

Copyright © 2023 Roderick Donatus.

ISBN: 978-9493334021

Written by Roderick Donatus.

All rights reserved.

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This book collects the complete Crystal War Saga, which has been previously published as three individual editions.

Defender of Gilgin

Copyright © 2021 Roderick Donatus.

Betrayer of Gilgin

Copyright © 2022 Roderick Donatus.

Savior of Gilgin

Copyright © 2023 Roderick Donatus.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by Dutch copyright law.

Contents

Also By Roderick Donatus

Dedication

Defender of Gilgin

Contents

1.The Quarry

2.Inquisition Patrol

3.Avros

4.On the Road to Pythia

5.The Oracle

6.Prophecies

7.Fleeing to Gilgin

8.The Manhir

9.The Ochloroc

10.Consequences

11.Negotiations

12.Inquisitional Demands

13.Searching Brimir

14.Jorun's Mansion

15.The Fall of Sleiptalen

16.Jorun

17.Betrayal

18.Rescue Mission

19.Uneltemus

20.To Battle

21.Back in Pythia

22.A Matter of Principle

23.Relief Force

24.The Battle for Brimir

25.Back in Gilgin...

26.Underneath Gilgin

27.Ochloroc Tunnels

28.The Black Pyramid

29.The Dark Crystal

30.The Journey Home

31.Under Siege

32.Night Raid

33.The Crystal

34.A New Dawn

Betrayer of Gilgin

Contents

1.Rebuilding Brimir

2.Back in Gilgin

3.Scouting

4.Captured

5.The Inquisitional Army

6.Council Meeting

7.Dark Magic

8.Thieves

9.Teacher

10.On the Road

11.Kjeltalen

12.Practice

13.Leave-Taking

14.Return

15.Stirgard

16.Night Time Investigation

17.Rescue Mission

18.The Pyramid

19.Poison

20.Collapse

21.Envoys

22.Under Attack

23.Thief

24.Henge

25.Leaving

Savior of Gilgin

Contents

1.Fleeing Gilgin

2.Brimir

3.Birchwood

4.Nighttime Raid

5.Under Attack

6.To Pythia

7.The Slave Camp

8.Rolf

9.The Prophecy Stones

10.Captured

11.The Siege of Brimir

12.The Road Ahead

13.The Ochloroc World

14.The Journey North

15.Back to Xipuhn

16.The City of Svartalfheim

17.Niflheim

18.Into the Darkness

19.The Crystal of Creation

20.Planning

21.Jorun

22.Stirgard

23.The Siege

24.The Black Pyramid

25.Gilgin

26.Epilogue

Here ends The Crystal War Saga

Acknowledgments

Sky Pirates

About the Author

Also By Roderick Donatus

The Crystal War Saga

Defender of Gilgin

Betrayer of Gilgin

Savior of Gilgin

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Standalone

Emperor

Sky Pirates

Watch for more at https://www.roderickdonatus.com/.

To Lauren and Frederique. Because you’re always asking for stories.

Defender of Gilgin

Roderick Donatus

Contents

1. The Quarry

2. Inquisition Patrol

3. Avros

4. On the Road to Pythia

5. The Oracle

6. Prophecies

7. Fleeing to Gilgin

8. The Manhir

9. The Ochloroc

10. Consequences

11. Negotiations

12. Inquisitional Demands

13. Searching Brimir

14. Jorun's Mansion

15. The Fall of Sleiptalen

16. Jorun

17. Betrayal

18. Rescue Mission

19. Uneltemus

20. To Battle

21. Back in Pythia

22. A Matter of Principle

23. Relief Force

24. The Battle for Brimir

25. Back in Gilgin...

26. Underneath Gilgin

27. Ochloroc Tunnels

28. The Black Pyramid

29. The Dark Crystal

30. The Journey Home

31. Under Siege

32. Night Raid

33. The Crystal

34. A New Dawn

The Quarry

Finn hacked at the quarry wall with his pickaxe, imagining Jorun Jorunson’s face in it. The shackles around his wrists and ankles made it hard to strike with any accuracy, and the pickaxe wedged itself in a crack. He sighed. Jorun annoyed him even as an imaginary face in a rock.

At least it felt good to be out here by himself. Finn had a couple of guards to keep an eye on him, but the quarry had only one entrance and sheer walls all around, so they mostly left him alone. They were probably lounging in the shade at the quarry entrance. Jorun intended the forced labor to humiliate him, but Finn preferred the fresh air to some damp cell in Gilgin crowded with drunks and thieves.

Finn pulled on the pickaxe. It didn’t budge. Damn. The guards were bound to check on him if they didn’t hear anything for a while, and then they were bound to be annoyed that he’d made them get up. They’d prod him and hurry him along and ruin his quiet afternoon. He grabbed the handle of the pickaxe with both hands, braced one foot against the quarry wall, and heaved. A rock broke loose, freeing the pickaxe, and Finn staggered two steps back.

He straightened and wiped his brow with his sleeve. The piece of rock that reminded him of Jorun’s nose was still there. Finn swung the pickaxe again, and this time, the nose came off with a satisfying crunch that reminded him of how he’d broken Jorun’s nose the previous night. Jorun had deserved it after what he’d said about Kelsa.

Finn hefted the pickaxe for another swing. Suddenly, the whole quarry wall shifted. Rocks loosened and slid in an avalanche towards him. He stumbled backwards in an attempt to get out of the way, but tripped over a rock and fell on his back, his heart beating in his throat as a boulder three times his height broke free. It filled his vision as it crashed towards him. Finn rolled into a ball and threw up his hands in a meagre attempt to protect his face. The thunder of falling rocks filled the air.

Then silence descended on the quarry, and somehow, he was still alive. Finn lowered his arm just enough to find out why.

The slab hung a foot from his face. Two deep grey eyes stared back at him.

Good afternoon, sir. The voice was deep, and joy sparkled on the edge of it. It used a strange dialect that made it hard to follow. Thank you for digging me out. Took you people long enough, I have to say.

Finn lowered his arm a little more. Either luck had saved him, or he’d died and his spirit was imagining this.

The eyes were set in a grey slab of stone two or three times his size. It was rounded at the bottom and tapered to a point at the top. Otherwise, the rock was all straight lines and angles, giving it an unnatural look. Lichen covered the top and back of the slab. It was held off the ground by two pillars that came up to his chest.

What… he began. He cleared his throat to recover his voice. What are you?

I’m Henge. Nice to meet you. A piece of rock moved in cadence with the voice. That must be the thing’s mouth. Crystals the size of Finn’s thumb glittered like teeth inside it.

Wh-what’s a henge?

"Not a henge, just Henge. It’s my name."

"But what are you?"

What do you mean? Henge straightened to his full height, towering over Finn.

You... you look like a talking rock!

Well, yes. I’m Manhir, after all, Henge said.

Finn scrambled backwards and got his feet under him. He raised the pickaxe defensively. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. With his feet shackled, he couldn’t make a run for it, so he needed to stall for time. The guards would notice the quiet eventually. What do you want, monster?

Monster? Henge asked quizzically. You act like you’ve never seen a Manhir before.

The Inquisition purged you from the Earth a thousand years ago, heralding in the age of peace! It was a phrase Finn had heard many times from priests during the annual Ragnarok festival.

Purged us from the Earth? Something like an eyebrow rose on its equivalent of a forehead, and the creature sank to the quarry floor with a thump. "A thousand years, you say? That can’t be right. I know I’ve been hibernating for a while, but it can’t have been that long."

Finn needed a moment to understand the creature’s ancient dialect. It looked nothing like the monsters depicted in the Inquisition paintings. This was no hulking black demon with burning eyes, bent on destroying cities with its bare hands. And it definitely didn’t look like it was about to eat a child. In fact, it didn’t seem aggressive at all. It might even have completely missed Finn raising his pickaxe.

He tilted his head. The slabs of rock at its sides sort of looked like arms. And that clump of grey-green lichen at the top of the rock could be hair. Then the rocks on its sides spread out; they were indeed arms. Why were you looking for me if I was purged? Henge asked plaintively.

Finn lowered the pickaxe. Either the Manhir was a great actor. or it posed no immediate threat. I wasn’t. Finn held up his arms to show the shackles. I’m out here digging up rocks as punishment.

You’re a criminal?

No, Finn said. I broke someone’s nose for insulting my fiancée.

Pretty harsh punishment for getting in a fight, Henge mused.

Finn shrugged. He’s a pretty important guy.

That just means he should know better.

I wish it worked that way.

Henge was nothing like the Inquisition’s description of the Manhir. For one thing, he was far too civil for a child-eating demon. There was something strange here. Finn swung the pickaxe at the quarry wall, just to make some noise to keep the guards away. He wanted to hear more. Are all Manhir like you?

As much as all humans are like you, I guess, Henge replied. Are you sure you’ve never seen a Manhir before?

Well, they’re a common subject in Inquisition paintings, but you look nothing like those. For starters, you don’t have glowing eyes.

Henge bowed his head. Where did all the Manhir go? he mumbled to the ground. He looked up at Finn again. Still, I thank you for digging me out, even if you didn’t mean to. I am in your debt.

If you’ve got a key to these, Finn held up his arms again, and can get me out of here, we’ll call it even.

Henge reached for the shackles. He took the iron bands around Finn’s wrists between two fingers the size of Finn’s forearm and squeezed. The iron groaned and snapped. Henge reached down, and a moment later the shackles dropped away from Finn’s ankles.

Hey! a shout came from the quarry entrance. One of the guards had come to check.

Climb on my back, Henge said. He lowered one shoulder and Finn clambered up. Henge’s back was rough against his face, and warm like a rock that had lain in the sun all day. Ready? Henge asked. Hold on.

Henge ran at the quarry wall and jumped. He slammed his hands against the stone, finding hand- and footholds with the ease of an experienced climber. Finn was tossed back and forth, but held tight as Henge scaled the quarry wall, punching into the rock with a hand or foot if there was no natural hold available. In moments, they were at the surface.

The guard had made it halfway across the quarry floor in the time it had taken Henge to climb to the top. He shouted to his companion that Finn had escaped, and that they needed to get to the surface right away.

Finn dropped from Henge’s back. It’s time to go. That guard will be here in moments, and I don’t want to be around when he arrives. Being caught chatting with a Manhir would give Jorun an easy excuse to get rid of him completely, he figured. Best not wait around for that to happen. An alder and birch forest started a few feet from the edge of the quarry, so Finn picked out a game trail running up the mountainside and took off. The quarry quickly disappeared behind a screen of willow and cherry bushes.

When Finn looked over his shoulder, Henge was no longer following him. He must have had trouble getting through the undergrowth. There was no time to go look for him; Finn knew he could spend the rest of the afternoon searching and still miss him in the dense forest. He wanted to put as much distance between him and the guards as possible.

The land flattened out, and Finn burst out of the forest. A grassy meadow lay in the afternoon sunlight. Ahead, the land ended in a sharp cliff that ran down to the valley floor below. Gilgin, the ancient home of the Inquisition, lay in the hazy distance across the valley, the spire of the Inquisitional Palace visible even from this distance.

He had veered too far west while wandering through the forest. Instead of running away from the quarry, he had run parallel to it! He was only a little further away than when he’d started. He headed toward the forest edge on the other side of the clearing.

Halt! came a voice from behind him.

Damn. One of the guards, the slighter, dark-haired twit, stood at the far edge of the clearing. He had an arrow nocked on his bowstring, ready to draw. At this distance, even a child would be able to hit him.

Walk towards me, the guard said. Very slowly.

Finn started inching towards the guard. He glanced around the clearing. If he walked to the side of the guard instead of straight at him, then he could make a dash for the forest once he was closer. The short distance would give the guard little time to react, and his bow would be useless once Finn got a couple of trees between them. The guard would be no match for him when racing through the undergrowth.

Finn’s exit point drew closer. Just a few more steps, and he would be close enough to the forest edge to make a run for it. The sound of something moving in the forest drifted into the clearing. I’ve got him! The guard never took his eyes off Finn. This way! You, stay right where you are. The guard said this last part to Finn.

Finn stopped. This complicated matters.

Another guard, an evil-eyed blond brute, stepped into the clearing, axe in hand. Go tie him up while I cover you, the first guard said.

The brute walked towards Finn, grinning widely. Finn knew he would only get one chance to make a break for it. The brute would block the line of sight for the guard with the bow if he timed this right. Finn just needed to surprise him.

The guard reached Finn and grabbed his arm. Finn jerked his arm away. The guard reacted by gripping Finn’s arm again, tighter, and pulling Finn towards him. Finn jumped forward, partially propelled by the guard’s pull, and shoved his shoulder into the brute’s chest.

The guard fell backwards and let go of Finn’s arm. Finn dashed towards the forest.

Something struck his heel and he stumbled, getting his feet tangled up. The fallen guard had thrown his axe at Finn, hitting him with the handle. He was already up again by the time Finn recovered, and with two steps had closed the distance between them. He kicked Finn’s legs out from under him and dropped him to the grass. A kick in the side drove the wind out of him. The guard then planted a knee in the small of Finn’s back and pushed his face down, filling his mouth with grass.

Branches snapped as someone else entered the clearing.

"What’s that?" the first guard shouted.

The weight of the blond guard disappeared from Finn’s back. Finn pulled his head up from the grass; Henge’s stony feet filled his vision. Leave him alone, Henge rumbled.

The guard from Finn’s back lay crumpled on the grass halfway between Finn and the first guard. The first guard shot Henge, striking him in the middle of his chest. The arrow ricocheted away from him, landing in a nearby juniper bush. Henge shook himself. The arrow hadn’t even made a dent in the Manhir’s stone-like body. Henge took a step towards the dark-haired guard; the guard took another look at Henge, then turned and ran. The blond guard scrambled after his companion.

Thanks. Finn got up and brushed off his leather jerkin.

Who were those guys? asked Henge.

Them? Just some Inquisition guards doing their jobs. Finn turned and headed away from the quarry. Coming? They’re bound to return, and bring friends with them.

A game trail led into the forest at the far end of the clearing. Even so, it was slow going through the brambles and juniper bushes, especially for Henge. After a while, though, the forest thinned out, letting them walk side by side.

Do you know what happened to the Manhir? Henge asked.

Finn shook his head. Which version do you want to hear? The only thing they agree on is that one day, the Manhir simply disappeared.

How can a whole people simply disappear?

Dunno. The Inquisition teaches that they sided with the dark gods and were punished for it.

Impossible. We fought alongside your people for the light during the Ochloroc wars, Henge said. We would never side with them.

Finn shrugged. I didn’t believe Manhir existed before I saw you. War does strange things to people’s beliefs. Maybe your people got tired of fighting.

Henge fell silent. The afternoon shadows were lengthening when they hit on a dirt track, half-overgrown by knee-high weeds.

What will you do now? Henge was becoming easier to understand. He seemed to be learning fast.

I’ve got an uncle in Trolldalen. Finn pointed down the track. It should be an easy two-day walk that way. I’ll hide there until everyone in Gilgin has forgotten I punched Jorun. What’s your plan?

I’m heading to Gilgin, to talk to this Inquisition. They must know more about what happened to the Manhir.

They’ll kill you!

Oh, I’m sure they’ll be reasonable.

No, you don’t understand, Finn said fervently. A core teaching of the Inquisition is that the Manhir were evil, and it’s a good thing they disappeared. Inquisitors devote their lives to hunting down and destroying any remaining Manhir artefacts.

Aw, they just never met a real Manhir, Henge said. If I can just sit down with them and let them get to know me, they’ll see that I’m not a monster.

You’re crazy, Henge.

Perhaps. But I need to know what happened to the Manhir, and at the moment, Gilgin is the only place I know of where I could go to find out.

Finn threw up his arms. Suit yourself. Gilgin is that way. Finn pointed the opposite direction, away from Trolldalen. When you hit the larger road, just take a left, and follow it until an Inquisition patrol finds you. They’ll take you to Gilgin without too much asking.

Henge placed his arm across his chest and bowed to Finn. Thank you, Master Finn. I’ll remember your help.

Henge turned down the dirt track and took off at an easy jog. Finn stood looking after him; in moments Henge disappeared from view. Poor guy, Finn muttered. He turned and headed towards Trolldalen.

Inquisition Patrol

Night had fallen. The crescent moon shone on an Inquisition patrol camped on a small rise near the main road. Finn sat at the tree line, hidden in the shadow of a pine, observing the camp. They were prepared for trouble, even this deep in Inquisition lands. They had set up a defensive perimeter around the camp and guards stood on high alert, watching the open space between the camp and the forest. There was no way he could approach unseen.

He’d been unable to get the image of Henge trying to talk sense to the Inquisition out of his head. The Inquisition wouldn’t just kill him; their leader, Ragnur, knew how to play on people’s emotions. He would make a spectacle out of it. So instead of going to Trolldalen, Finn had turned around and gone after the Manhir. But he’d been too slow. Henge was already tied down in the center of the camp, surrounded by guards, before Finn had caught up with him. If only he had found more Manhir in that quarry, then he could have easily run in, freed Henge, and run out again.

Finn rubbed his chin. Hmmm. The patrol didn’t know he’d found only one Manhir. If he created enough confusion, he could use that to reach Henge and free him.

Finn moved deeper into the forest, until he found a dead pine tree about fifty paces from the forest’s edge. He gathered several armloads full of kindling and dead branches and piled them around the base of the tree. Then he hunted up a couple of pieces of flint, and used them to spark a fire at the base of the pine before heading back to the forest’s edge, where he waited patiently for the fire to grow.

It didn’t require much patience. The fire spread fast through the pine’s dry branches and flammable resin. In moments, the flickering light of the flames reached the edge of the forest. Soon, the flames had crawled to the top of the dead tree. In the camp, a guard stirred and said something to his companion. He’d spotted the light of the flames as well. This was Finn’s cue. He tousled his hair, jumped up, and ran out of the forest, arms flailing. Help! Help!

The guards raised their spear and shield. Incoming! one of them shouted over his shoulder.

Halt! the other shouted at Finn. Identify yourself!

Around the camp, soldiers leaped to attention. Two more came running over as Finn ran up to the camp and dropped to his knees in front of the guards. Praise the gods I ran into ya! Please help!

What’s going on? one of the guards asked. Who are you?

Finn looked up. The guard’s face was hidden underneath his leather helmet. They’s monsters out in them woods. They et me friend! Finn sobbed and drew in a deep breath. They been chasin’ me all day. Ya gotta help me.

By now, a small crowd had gathered round Finn. The original pair of guards looked at each other and nodded. The tallest grabbed his horn and blew the signal for enemy approaching, and the camp became an anthill of activity. Soldiers appeared out of tents and came running over, armed with spears or axes and shields. The short guard offered Finn an arm and helped him get up. He pointed to the center of the camp. These monsters, he asked, did they look like that?

Finn jumped back. Ya got one!

Don’t worry, we’ve got him tied up good, the guard said. He just wandered in here. Where did you see these monsters last?

Finn turned. The fire he’d started was now blazing, casting dancing shadows all over the clearing. He pointed to the fire. That direction. They was maybe five of ’em.

A captain, denote by his crested helmet, arrived at the guard post. The short guard filled him in on what Finn had said. Defensive line! the captain ordered. Spears to the center, war hammers on the flanks. and bows in the rear. On contact, we spread out and surround these Manhir. Soldiers milled around, forming up. The captain turned to Finn. You, sir, stand back. We can’t have civilians in the way.

Finn nodded. He forced himself to stroll toward the center of the camp, combing his fingers through his hair, straightening it up. Everybody was getting ready for a fight. Two soldiers ran past; to one side, soldiers were clearing space for the field surgeon. He passed a deserted cooking fire. The smell of roast elk reminded him he hadn’t had a proper meal since lunchtime. He spotted a hatchet for chopping firewood next to a pile of kindling; that would be useful for cutting Henge loose. He grabbed it and hurried on.

Henge lay on the top of the rise in the center of the camp, face-down on the grass, arms and legs spread wide. Ropes ran over his back, arms, and legs like a spider’s web, tied to thick stakes, securing him to the ground. Four guards stood watch around him, peering in all directions, clearly made anxious by the confusion.

Finn quickened his pace and came up to the first guard at a trot. The captain needs your help! Quick, all of you! Finn pointed at the burning forest with the hatchet. There’s multiple Manhir coming, and we need everyone who can fight on the front lines!

We got orders to guard the monster, the guard said, scowling. We ain’t to move under any circumstances.

In the forest behind Finn, a burning tree crashed to the ground. The smell of wood smoke intensified. You know that plans change as soon as you make contact with the enemy! Finn shouted. He drew himself up and assumed his best shouty sergeant’s voice. You’ve been given your orders, soldier! Now obey them!

The guard snapped to attention at Finn’s shout. He looked over to his comrades; they gave him a nod, and the four of them ran toward where Finn pointed.

As soon as they’d left the clearing, Finn hurried towards Henge’s head. Ugly scratches marked his face and upper back. The soldiers had been cruel.

Henge opened an eye and looked up at Finn. You were right.

Finn nodded and said, We haven’t got long before the captain realizes something’s wrong. He chopped the rope near Henge’s head with the hatchet he’d picked up earlier. As soon as you’re free, we make a run for it.

Finn hacked at the ropes around Henge. The three tying Henge’s left arm to the ground were the first to go, which let Henge push himself up on that arm. Finn hacked through two more ropes around Henge’s middle, and with a heave, the big stone creature pushed himself off the ground, snapping the remaining ropes.

Follow me. Finn ran down the rise, away from the burning forest. Henge followed close on his heels.

Thanks, Henge said as they ran.

They burst out from between the tents, and the ground levelled out. We’re not safe yet, Finn said. The forest was still a hundred feet away. If they could make it to the trees without being seen, they’d get away clean.

The fates were too cruel for that to happen. A shout went up behind them. The game was afoot! Adrenalin rushed through Finn’s body, lending his legs an extra burst of speed. More shouts followed. Henge kept pace at his side, not even breathing hard. Boots thumped on the ground behind him. The whole patrol was in pursuit!

Finn reached the forest’s edge, and a low-hanging branch smacked his face. He stumbled when his foot landed in an unseen hole. A crash behind him told him Henge also had trouble seeing obstacles in the dark forest, but at least he was still following. The land sloped upward, and Finn’s legs burned as he pushed through the trackless undergrowth.

He glanced over his shoulder. Small shadows moved through the trees behind Henge’s hulking one. They weren’t going to lose the Inquisition soldiers this way; Henge was too easy for them to track. If he remembered correctly, there was a ridge farther up the hill, running parallel to the road. Henge’s silhouette would disappear against the cliff. If they could get there ahead of the troops and turned towards Gilgin instead of away from it, then maybe they could throw off their pursuers.

Finn was panting by the time the cliff appeared. He turned right, sticking as close to the cliff as possible. The cliff curved left, higher up the mountain. With any luck, this would hide them from the soldiers behind them. The rough terrain gave him no time to check to see if they were still being followed.

A black mass appeared on their left. Another cliff. The forest shrank to a narrow gorge. This gave Finn only one way to go: forward. The noise from running feet behind him bounced off the gorge’s sides. The Inquisition soldiers were close behind them... and then Finn was stopped short by a wall. The gorge was a dead end!

There had to be a way out; there always was. Finn felt the cliff for handholds, but couldn’t find any in the dark. Can you get us up this cliff too? Finn asked Henge between breaths.

It will be slow going, Henge replied. I can’t see well enough to find handholds. But I will try. Finn heard Henge drop to one knee. Climb up my back, like before.

Bright lantern light lit up the gorge. Freeze, or we’ll shoot!

Finn lifted his arm against the light. A line of soldiers stood an easy bowshot away from them, blocking the exit from the gorge. Several of them had their bows raised, arrows nocked and aimed right at Finn. Four others held double-sided war hammers, eyeing Henge. The captain with the crested helmet stood to the side of the group. Surrender now, and you’ll live long enough to be tried, the captain said. Make a sudden move and you die.

Finn slowly raised his arms. He whispered at Henge. What do you think?

I think we die either way, Henge whispered back. I’ll go first and block the arrows.

Finn looked at the hatchet he was still holding in his hand. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. He nodded at Henge.

Henge sprang in motion, thundering down the hill like an angry avalanche. Finn ran behind him. Arrows sprang off Henge’s body without causing any significant damage. As another volley of arrows bounced off him, Finn raised the hatchet and ran from behind Henge, making for the nearest archer.

Finn’s target nocked an arrow to his bow; he would get one more shot. But bows were lousy close-contact weapons, and Finn said a quick prayer that the archer would miss in the dark. What he didn’t expect was for the archer to stumble forward and fall face down, for no apparent reason. Another one fell, an arrow sticking out from his back.

Oh.

The soldiers looked at their fallen comrades, then back up at the charging Manhir barreling towards them like a rock rolling down a mountain. Another soldier went down to an arrow. This was too much for the soldiers; they broke and fled.

Finn and Henge slowed to a stop. What happened? Henge rumbled.

Finn scanned the surrounding forest. The lantern had ruined his night vision, and all he saw was formless shadows. I’m not sure.

A voice came out of the dark. What are you?

I’m just Finn, Finn answered.

"Not you, the voice said. A shadow detached from a tree and walked towards them, resolving into a man holding a bow. He was shorter and broader than Finn, and wore an unmarked set of leather armor reinforced with metal studs. That." He pointed at Henge.

I’m Henge. The last remaining Manhir, it seems.

The nab whistled through his teeth. Whoa-ho, a Manhir. No wonder that patrol was so eager to get you.

And who are you? Finn asked.

Your salvation, the archer said. He bent over one of the fallen soldiers, pulled the arrows from the soldier’s quiver, and added them to his own. He grabbed a coin purse from the other dead nab.

Well, Salvation, Finn said, what brings you out here in the middle of the night?

I’m here to rescue you, of course.

But why?

I was curious. I saw the patrol take Henge, and then your escape with him. Any enemies of the Inquisition are my friends.

The light dawned in Finn’s head. You’re with the Rebellion! he exclaimed.

"Ha! I’m not with the Rebellion, I am the Rebellion."

Rebellion? Henge asked.

We fight against the Inquisition’s oppression. We strive for freedom in the lands and equality for all people. And I am Gudmund Eindridson, leader of the Rebellion. Gudmund sketched a bow.

Thank you for your help, Master Eindridson, Henge said humbly.

We should get moving, Finn said to Henge. They’re bound to come back. I want to be far away when they do.

Where are you heading? Gudmund asked.

Away from here. The Inquisition is bound to come after us in force now.

Come with me, Gudmund said. We can hide you from the Inquisition.

Finn looked at Henge, who shrugged. It’s as good a plan as any, I guess, Finn said.

Avros

Elina saw Naina entering Avros’ communal longhouse, so she crossed the central plaza of the Rebellion’s hometown and followed her in. Heindal’s and Alson’s kids were playing hide-and-seek in the dining area. The smell of spilled ale lingered in the air. Naina was sorting through a closet on the far end of the longhouse. Elina hurried over, past the cold fireplace, tablet in hand. Naina, a moment, please.

Several streaks of grey ran through Naina’s hair. Had those been there before? Combined with the bags under her eyes, they made her look frail, even in her leather armor with the stitched-on Rebellion emblem and general’s stripes.

What’s up, Elina? Naina asked.

About the Svenson family. We don’t have the funds to send them support.

Naina’s shoulders sagged. That’s not an option. The Inquisition chasing Leiki into hiding was bad enough, but there was no need to arrest his father. They’ve got nothing left.

Elina stuck out the tablet. We don’t even have enough money for the supplies coming in tomorrow. Even if we wanted to, we have nothing to send.

"They’re using them to make a point, Elina. We will help them."

Elina thought for a moment. What if instead of sending money, we ask the Sorenson family to take them in? They owe us a favor. And they can always use a couple of extra hands around their farm. Maybe the Svensons can even rent out their house for some extra income.

Naina clasped Elina on the shoulder. Now you’re talking. We’re all in this together. We just need to be creative in supporting each other.

A murmur of voices rose outside the longhouse. The door at the far end of the longhouse flew open and Hedvig burst through. He ran up to Naina and grabbed her arm. You’ve got to come! Hurry! He waved towards the plaza. Gudmund has returned.

Naina jumped up and ran for the door; Elina hurried after her. Hedvig was usually composed and calm. Gudmund must have gotten in trouble again. Elina ran out of the longhouse and blinked in the bright light outside, narrowly avoiding bumping into Naina, who had stopped short right outside the door.

Elina looked up. The reason for Naina’s abrupt stop stood in the center of the plaza. There, a huge rock formation stood surrounded by people jumping up and down with excitement. Is that…? Elina’s question trailed off.

Yes, Naina said. Gudmund found a Manhir.

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After the Manhir had been paraded around Avros and everyone had had a chance to touch his rough skin, Elina took their two guests to the longhouse. Together with Gudmund and Naina, they withdrew to the back of the central hall for an improvised meeting. The Manhir, Henge he’d said his name was, was sitting across the table from her. She had always imagined Manhir to be broader. Henge was rather slender, even if he dominated the room with his height. He stooped to prevent his head from hitting the ceiling. The fellow who’d found him, Finn, sat by his side. He was taller than Gudmund, but not as broad. He wore the rough woolen outfit of a peasant, but there was a suppleness to his movements that suggested that there was more to him than she’d first thought.

Where are the rest of your people? Gudmund asked. We could use their help in our struggle against the Inquisition.

I don’t know, Henge answered sadly. Finn told me they disappeared sometime after I got stuck. Maybe the Ochloroc got to them during the war.

Gudmund, Naina said, you can’t be thinking of keeping him here. The Inquisition would be all over us. She turned to Henge. No offence meant.

"Naina, don’t you see what he is? Gudmund pointed at Henge. With him, we can show the world the Inquisition is wrong! He’s just a normal fellow, not some demon who sided with the Ochloroc during Ragnarok."

The Inquisition ignores us because we’re no real threat to them, Naina said. They wouldn’t give you a chance to parade him around. They’d stamp us out until no one remembers us.

We can ambush them, Gudmund said. If we know they’re coming, we can prepare for them.

We’re no army.

With Henge on our side, people will flock to our banner. Gudmund slammed his hand on the table. We can take him to Stirgard. The Inquisition won’t dare follow us there. Thane Stigur will welcome an opportunity to make fools of the Inquisition.

Henge raised his hands defensively. Look, I don’t want to fight anyone. I just want to find my people.

Gudmund shook his head in frustration.

Naina turned to Henge. I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. This isn’t just about us. How can we help you?

Henge bowed his head. I don’t know, he said to his feet.

Very few records survived Ragnarok, Naina said. I’m not sure anyone knows what happened at the end of the war, or how we survived the apocalypse while the Ochloroc perished.

What about the Inquisitional Library in Uneltemus? Finn asked. They must have information on the Manhir.

How would we get it? Gudmund pointed at Henge. He’d stand out like an axe in a bakery. And you’re not exactly popular with them either at the moment.

They all fell silent.

Elina looked at Henge. He really did look nothing like the demons the Inquisition preached about. If she ignored the rocklike arms and the grey lichen he had for hair, then he sounded just like any other man... a man searching for knowledge. Something nudged her memory. What about the Oracle? It’s where we go if we need answers. And Pythia has been around for even longer than Uneltemus.

The Oracle, Finn said. Of course. Either he knows something, or they’ll have records in their library we can use.

Let’s go, then, Henge said. Does he still reside in Pythia?

Gudmund nodded. We can supply you to help you get there. If she wants, Elina can guide you. She’s travelled most of the lands to the west of here.

Elina raised an eyebrow at Gudmund. What was on his mind here? He gave a slight shake of his head. He’d tell her later.

We can get you sorted and ready to leave by tomorrow, Gudmund continued. In the meantime, Naina can get you something to eat and show you a place to rest.

Thank you, Henge said. He placed his right arm across his chest and bowed.

Come with me, Naina said. I’ll show you where you can freshen up. And I’ll get you some food. She led Henge and Finn out a side door.

Elina turned to Gudmund after they’d left the room. I know most of the lands west of here?

Don’t worry, Pythia is easy to find, Gudmund said. Finn can probably get there without help anyway.

She drummed her fingers on the table. Gudmund had concocted some crazy scheme again, it seemed. Well, go on, then, she said. I’m sure they can’t hear you anymore. What’s going on?

Why must something be going on? He feigned innocence as he said it.

Because something is always going on with you. And now, of all things, you’ve stumbled across a Manhir.

What do you think of him? Gudmund asked.

Elina sighed. Gudmund was evading her question, and wouldn’t reveal what he had in mind until she played along. He looks a bit out of his depth. Though I guess that’s to be expected when you wake up and find out you’ve been hibernating for a thousand years.

Yes, and that changes everything. Henge makes a fool of the Inquisition’s teachings. He’s going to change everything. The world is changing as we speak; I feel it in the wind.

I don’t know, brother. He doesn’t look like someone who wants to change anything. He just wants to know what happened to his people.

Yes, Gudmund said, and that is a problem. You’ve done our books. You know the state we’re in. We can’t keep our fight going like this for much longer. We need him on our side. He’s a gift from the gods. We can’t throw that away.

Which is why you want me to go with them.

You’ve seen them. They’ll get lost or blunder into an Inquisition army if no one guides them.

Fine, I’ll babysit.

Thank you, Gudmund said. And tell Henge about us while you’re on the road. Explain our cause to him.

Elina gave Gudmund a push against his shoulder. Convert him, you mean. Do you ever consider the person?

The cause is more important than any single person. What is a single person, put against overthrowing the Inquisition?

Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him.

On the Road to Pythia

Elina trudged after Finn through the alder forest. They had been on the road for almost a week now, and she longed for a hot bath. They had made good progress the first couple of days travelling through the wilderness around Avros, but traffic had increased when they hit the main road to Pythia, which had frequently forced Henge to hide in the forest. After the first few times, Finn had led them down a narrow trail into the mountains around Pythia instead of going around, like the main road did.

Henge walked at her side, carrying most of their supplies on his back. I can’t wait to see Pythia again, he said.

Why? Elina asked.

That temple complex is one of our finest works. If we have some time left over, I would be happy to show you around.

I would love that. Elina looked up at Henge. He seemed so honest, so different from all the stories she’d heard growing up. I wonder how the Inquisition came to have such a negative view on your people.

What do they say about us?

One day, the Ochloroc rose up out of the Earth. They attacked mankind, enslaving cities and burning the land. Neither side could gain the upper hand in the war. But then the Manhir went over to the Ochloroc and triggered Ragnarok. That shifted the balance of power and helped the Ochloroc drive us back. Mankind made a desperate last stand at Gilgin. When all seemed lost, the Gods of Light sacrificed themselves in a great ritual which cast the dark gods and the Ochloroc from this world.

That’s impossible, Henge said, shaking his craggy head. The Manhir would never side with the Ochloroc. We hate each other.

I don’t trust the Inquisition or their teachings, Elina replied. But very few records remain from before Ragnarok. Human civilization lay in ruins at the end of the war. I don’t think anyone knows for sure what happened.

What do you believe happened? Henge asked.

It doesn’t matter what happened a thousand years ago. All I know is that you’re a decent guy and that the Inquisition is a plague on the lands. They and their teachings need to be exterminated. It’s what we fight for.

They walked on in silence. Elina looked at Finn ahead of her. He looked a lot better in the outfit they’d found for him, almost respectable. He wore the leather armor and dark green travel cloak with a practiced ease and seemed at home in the wilderness. If she could win him over, he would be as much an asset to the Rebellion as Henge would be. She quickened her pace until she walked next to him. What do you think of the Inquisition? she asked.

Their pay’s good, Finn answered.

Elina stumbled. You work for them?

He shrugged. I’m not sure anymore, given the circumstances. But I did. I’m a ranger.

The road took a turn and ran down a gentle slope. The shadows deepened around them as they moved down the valley. Boulders lined the road, and the trees closed in.

How can you work for them? Elina asked. Don’t you care about how they treat the people who disagree with them? Or how they’re so quick to brand anyone a heretic?

Finn shrugged again. A man’s got to eat. And with my fiancée in Gilgin, it makes sense to me.

A stream ran across the road. Elina skipped from stone to stone to avoid getting her feet wet. Don’t you care about anyone else—?

Quiet, Finn cut in.

I have a right to my opinion, she replied curtly.

Finn stopped and looked around. It’s not that. His hand went to the axe on his belt. Something’s wrong, he said in a low voice.

How so?

I don’t know, Finn said. But I feel watched.

Elina looked from side to side. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. You’re being ridiculous, she said, and continued on.

She’d walked maybe twenty paces when a crash behind her disturbed the quiet of the forest. She spun round. What looked like a stack of boulders stuck together with clay sat on top of Henge. The thing was twice as wide as him, and was pummeling him with shield-sized fists. Elina froze in place.

Finn charged across the small stream at the creature. He bellowed a war cry and swung his axe at its shoulder; chips of stone flew away as he withdrew a few steps. The creature turned its head and looked at Finn, then got up and took a step towards him.

Elina gripped her staff in both hands and hurried towards the fight.

The creature took a swing at Finn, who ducked below it. His next strike bounced off the creature’s leg. All that seemed to do was to enrage the creature further. Elina reached the creature and struck at its knee; it was like hitting a stone wall. The impact sent vibrations up her arms. The creature turned and spotted her; she leaped out of the way of its first punch, but the second blow clipped her shoulder and sent her hurtling backward. Pain shot through her, and for a moment she couldn’t tell up from down as her head hit the ground.

When the stars cleared, the creature stood over her, preparing to crush her beneath one huge foot. Flakes flew from its side, and it turned away from her as Finn’s blow distracted it. Elina pushed herself upright. Finn was backing away as the creature approached, drawing it away from her.

Henge ran past. She’d completely forgotten about the Manhir. He jumped on the creature’s back, knocking it to the ground. Henge lifted his arm and punched their attacker repeatedly between its shoulders. She heard a crunch on the fourth or fifth punch, and the boulder-pile went completely still.

Elina walked up to the creature and looked it up and down. "What is that?"

Something that shouldn’t exist, Henge growled.

Finn tapped his axe on the creature’s head. How so?

It’s an artificial creature made by the Ochloroc, a golem, Henge said. If the Ochloroc are gone, then the golems should be as well.

How do you make a golem? Elina asked.

I’m not sure, Henge replied. It has something to do with a crystal they embed in the creature’s back. He pointed at the hole he’d pounded in the golem, in which a shattered crystal lay. It was said that they trapped the soul of a sacrificial victim in it, and used that to animate the golem.

Well, Finn said, now it’s dead. Maybe it got stuck somewhere, like you did.

Maybe, Henge said. They’re tough creatures.

Finn nodded. Let’s keep moving. I don’t want to wait around to see if more of them show up.

They retrieved their gear and continued towards Pythia. The land sloped steadily upwards, and pine and spruce replaced the alder trees in the forest around them. In the early afternoon of the following day, they crested a barren mountain pass. The land on the other side fell away steeply, and the path clung to the mountainside in a series of switchbacks.

In the center of the valley below them, Pythia sat on the mound of an ancient volcano. The afternoon sun glinted off the white marble walls of the temple complex, creating a sharp contrast with the black basalt of the mound. A marble arch stood at the bottom of the volcano. From there, a staircase ran to the top of the mound. A thin wisp of smoke curled up out of the volcano’s crater.

Now, there’s a pickle, Finn said after a moment.

Elina nodded. An army was camped in front of the gate. Its colors announced it as an Inquisitional army. They must have guessed we’d take Henge here for answers, she said.

The Oracle

The sun was setting as Finn crouched at the edge of the forest, hiding behind a bird-cherry bush, observing the army camp. Henge lay to one side, while Elina sat at his other side. The First Inquisitional Assault Force was camped between them and the main gate of Pythia. The patriarchal pennant flying in the center of the camp announced that Ragnur himself led the army. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting any trouble. The soldiers hadn’t even bothered to dig a defensive ditch around the camp. All they’d done was clear the land around their camp for about a bowshot’s width. Now what? Henge asked.

Let’s wait and see for a while, Finn said. We need to find a way into the camp.

Can’t we sneak in somewhere else? Elina asked.

There’s only the one road leading into Pythia, Henge said. The other sides of the volcano are inaccessible. Or they were, at least.

Not to mention that they’ve already been here a couple of days. Finn pointed to a rubbish heap lying outside the army camp. They’ll be watching all possible entrances.

So we’ve walked all this way for nothing? Elina said.

We don’t need to sneak into Pythia, Finn said. They’ll have the Oracle in the camp somewhere.

Elina looked at him. How do you know?

I know Ragnur. It’s the only way to make sure the Oracle doesn’t sneak out of Pythia somehow and to ensure that we can’t talk to him.

How come you know so much about how Ragnur thinks? Elina demanded.

He’s my father-in-law, Finn said. Or soon will be.

Wonderful, Elina said. So all we need to do, then, is sneak into your father-in-law’s army camp, find a prisoner they’re watching, break him out, and escape without being caught. Great plan.

"We are not doing anything, Finn said. I am going in. You’re staying here."

Elina put her fists on her hips. And why should you be the one to go?

Shhh. Finn waved her down with his hands. Do you want them to hear you? Of course I’m the best one to go. Henge can’t go for obvious reasons, and you can’t go because you’re a woman. It’s an Inquisitional army camp. You’d stand out walking around, looking for the Oracle. I know Inquisitional army camps. I will know how to behave, where to look, and how to get him out.

Elina’s face flushed. She dropped her hands from her sides and looked back to the camp. Fine, she grumbled.

As night descended on the plains around Pythia, the three of them shared cold rations of crispbread and cured elk sausage. Meanwhile, the army lit a handful of fires around the camp. At the nearest fire, soldiers gathered for an evening meal. The smell of roasting boar drifted to their hiding place.

Finally, the fires burned low, and most of the soldiers disappeared into their tents. Finn crawled out from under the cherry bush, aiming at a spot between two fires. When he reached a lone tree about halfway to the army camp, he hid behind it.

A three-man patrol passed between him and the camp. Finn stayed down until they were well past, then got up and, keeping low, sprinted across the distance separating him from the camp. There, he ducked into the shadow between two tents and waited. There was no alarm raised. He released a held breath.

Finn peered around the tent. The fire was deserted. A pile of plates was stacked on one side of the fire; two round wooden shields lay on the other side, next to a tent entrance, with a double-sided axe leaning against them. He stood up and brushed off his knees. That felt almost too easy. He stepped out from behind the tent and sauntered past the firepit. Along the way, he grabbed the axe and a shield, which he slung on his back, and made his way deeper into the camp. It used the grid layout standard for Inquisitional armies, which meant the commander’s tent would be in the center. That would be as good a place as any to start looking for the Oracle; Ragnur would want to keep him close. Finn stuck to the smaller paths between the tents as he wandered deeper into the camp.

A group of soldiers lounged round a fire that lay across Finn’s path, drinking and laughing. One was telling a story about how, on a campaign to Inndyr, he had seduced two peasant girls with stories of his mighty deeds. Finn walked past them, staying close to the tents at the edge of the clearing. He prayed they wouldn’t look too closely or strike up a conversation with him. He waved a greeting in their direction. A bead of sweat ran from his forehead, over the bridge of his nose, and into his eye. He forced his hands to stay at his sides as he walked past the group.

Just as he was almost past, Finn kicked over a pile of plates and stumbled. He steadied himself with a hand on the ground. He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was walking. They’d come check on him now for sure. He tensed, and tightened his hand on the handle of his axe. He could take out one or two and flee the camp before they knew who he was.

Laughter rang out behind him.

Finn turned to look. The soldiers around the fire were staring at him, roaring with laughter. One slapped his knee. They evidently thought he’d drunk too much. Finn’s face flushed. He got up and hurried away.

Further on, a pavilion tent stood in the middle of a small open plaza. The pennant flying from a pole in front of it bore the eye and sword of Ragnur’s personal insignia. Two guards wearing silver metal cuirasses stood at the entrance, double-headed axes planted between their feet. Finn walked past them, keeping his head down. Another group sat at the next fire. These soldiers had none of the boisterous camaraderie of the earlier group Finn had passed; they had their weapons within easy reach, and kept a constant eye on everyone passing them. Ragnur was being careful.

Once Finn was out of sight among the tents again, he found a shadowy spot from where he could observe the pavilion. He lay back and pretended to sleep.

A messenger, scroll in hand, came up to the tent and was admitted by the guards. A servant who approached with a tray filled with steaming plates for a late-night supper was also admitted. Shortly after, a sergeant exited the tent and had a chat with the guards before he left. The Oracle was not in the commander’s pavilion, that much was obvious. Ragnur would keep the Oracle out of sight. But where?

The servant who had brought in the food came out again. He still had a plate of food on his tray. He turned to the side and walked toward the east side of the camp. Now, why would a servant be taking food out of the commander’s tent? On an impulse, Finn decided to follow him, keeping at least a tent between them. He didn’t have far to go. Four rows away from the pavilion, the servant stopped in front of a tent guarded by two soldiers. After a word with the guards, he went in. A moment later, he emerged empty-handed.

Finn slipped past the back of the tent. There were just the two guards out front. Apart from them, it looked like any other tent. The Oracle was in there, he was sure; that was just the sort of thing Ragnur would do. The camp around him was quiet; a soldier lay passed out next to a fire three tents over, but other than him and the guards, there was no one around.

Finn snuck up to the tent. He cast a final look around, got out his knife, and picked at the stitching in a seam until he had an opening wide enough to squeeze through. He got down on his knees and crawled through the opening.

Once inside, he looked up and was immediately struck in the temple. Finn fell sideways, and threw up his arms in front of his head. Wait!

Who are you, and what are you doing here? a deep, melodious voice asked.

I’m Finn, and I’m here to rescue you.

When no second strike came, Finn lowered his arm a bit. A man in crimson robes that went all the way to the floor stood in front of him, a bedpan with a dent in it raised above his head. His snow-white beard came to a curled point halfway down his chest.

The man lowered the bedpan. Why do you think I need rescuing, Master Finn?

Finn got up; he had emerged between the bed and the one stool in the tent. The writing table held the plate of venison and mushrooms that the servant had brought in. They had put up the Oracle in an officer’s tent. Are you the Oracle? Finn asked.

I am indeed Skormundir, the Oracle of Pythia, the Oracle replied solemnly.

I’m the reason you’ve got an army on your doorstep. Finn sat down on the bed and motioned to the Oracle to take the chair. The old man arched a questioning eyebrow at Finn. I found a Manhir, Finn said.

"You found a living Manhir?"

Finn nodded.

The Oracle plopped onto the stool. The prophecies are coming true, then. I never thought it would happen in my time. He ran a hand across his mouth.

Where did the Manhir disappear to? That’s what we came here to find out.

We? the Oracle asked. He’s here? The Inquisition must not get him.

He’s outside the camp. What can you tell us about what happened to them?

So many questions, lad. I’m not sure I can tell you anything definitive. Sources from the last age are scarce and often contradictory. Some claim they never actually left, others that they got involved with the dark gods somehow and disappeared because of that.

Finn’s shoulders sagged. This wasn’t much help at all. You mentioned a prophecy.

Multiple prophecies, actually, about the return of the Manhir.

The tent flap burst open and Ragnur, a sad look on his face, strode in, followed by two guards holding axes. He carried the patriarch’s scepter in the crook of his arm, and his purple cape of office hung down his back. The rest of his outfit matched that of the guards: a cuirass over leather jerkin and trousers. Despite being the shortest person in the room, he looked completely at ease. I’m sorry you’re this predictable, Finn. Ragnur turned to the Oracle. And you, sir, consorting with a heretic and a known murderer of innocent Inquisitional soldiers. That’s treason.

How? Finn was lost for words. No one had been around when he’d snuck in. The guards couldn’t have seen him; they’d been on the other side of the tent. There hadn’t been anyone awake outside. Unless... "The