Dawn comes late in the high mountain passes, and when it comes, it is accompanied by cold, damp clouds that pierce through to the very marrow of one's bones. Nest-kor shivered uncontrollably, despite the pile of blankets and furs that she had been given. She opened her eyes, letting the subdued light painfully in.

The tent was deserted. The other women were nowhere to be seen, and Akkra's side of the tent appeared equally deserted. She looked around for her clothes, spied them at the foot of her bed, then cautiously raised the covers. The cold hit her like a slap in the face, but she resolutely braved the elements and raced over to her clothes. She put them on, then grabbed a wool blanket and wrapped that around her body. As her own body warmth was trapped in the blanket, she became warmer. Still holding the blanket firmly around her, she put on her shoes and prepared to go to her toilet.

She stopped abruptly. She didn't have anyone here to assist her with her bathing, grooming, and other acts of daily necessity! She wondered if Aurie, Noo, or Bogii could help her. She rejected the idea almost immediately. Even if they knew what to do, she would be humiliated to ask them for help. How could a Princess be dependent on mere barbarian wenches?

She felt the annoying pressure of a full bladder. It always seems to be most uncomfortable when you don't know where to go, she thought. She headed for the tent entrance, hoping that once outside she would see where the latrine was.

The camp was already bustling with activity when she emerged from the tent. Grey smoke curled skyward from thousands of campfires. The smell of food was deliciously sharp in the air. Nest-kor realized that in addition to her other discomforts, she was hungry.

Noo came running over to her and pushed a cup of hot tea in her direction. Nest-kor awkwardly took the steaming cup, then found that the beverage was not as hot as she expected. Nest-kor took a tentative sip, then tried to find out where Aurie was. Noo led the Princess to where Aurie was eating with several other young women. Nest-kor motioned for Aurie to come and talk with her.

"Good morning," Aurie said pleasantly. "You must be too much tired. We think you sleep all day!"

Nest-kor hid her annoyance at the unintended insult. "Aurie, I need to find a latrine."

"What is latrine?" Aurie asked, sincerely puzzled. Sometimes Nest-kor used the strangest words.

Nest-kor stared at her in exasperation. "A place to make water, you fool! Where do you people go to make water?"

Aurie laughed. "Oh, I know what you mean!" A mischievious look came in her eyes. "We do it up there," she said, pointing towards a distant line of scrub bushes further up the slopes. "That where my people do it."

Nest-kor looked where Aurie was pointing. The site was almost half a mile away. Nest-kor swore several oaths that Princesses are not supposed to know and began to trek towards the line of bushes. She was not aware of the high chorus of giggles that followed her departure.

She took longer to get there than she had expected to. The slope looked fairly clear from a distance, but she found that the path twisted this way and that way through broken rocks and thorny plants. When she did arrive at the site indicated by Aurie, she did not find any sort of building or covered latrine. Instead, she found piles of excrement scattered haphazardly all over the area. There seemed to be several favorite spots where larger boulders permitted the defecator to squat high above where the excrement finally collected.

And if she wanted privacy, she was disappointed there also. There were several people already there, most within shouting distance, all within visual distance. Only the bushes afforded partial protection from prying eyes.

Nest-kor waited until those there finished their business, but no sooner were they done than others would mysteriously appear. She finally decided that she would have to ignore propriety, since her discomfort was becoming acute. She found a location as excluded as she could and proceeded to relieve herself.

As she headed back towards the camp, she cursed Dak Akkra repeatedly. She began to envision various forms of punishment that she would have her father apply to the Mazidaran in retribution for the humiliation and inconvenience Nest-kor was experiencing.

She headed back down the path, but something was wrong. As she approached the camp, the path twisted and turned in directions she did not remember. The camp itself was different, with different sized tents, different designs on the sides of the tents, even the people appeared differently dressed. Puzzled, she wandered aimlessly through the endless procession of tent after tent, looking for Akkra's.

The women were finishing up the morning breakfast chores, passing out the last of the food. Nest-kor realized she hadn't eaten. She stopped outside the cirlce of one campsite and stared hungrily at the plates of food being prepared. The cook, an old toothless hag, looked up. Apparently she knew that the person standing near their fire was the young woman brought to the camp by the Wizard Prince. She smiled at Nest-kor and used gestures to indicate eating. Nest-kor nodded quickly.

The woman put several wheat cakes and curds onto a plate and brought it over to Nest-kor. The Princess ate the food hungrily, surprised at how good it was. When she finished, she asked the woman for more. The old woman understood what she wanted, despite the language barrior. Laughing, she prepared some more wheat cakes for the Princess.

Nest-kor was finally satisfied. She tried to thank the old woman, who responded with sincere enthusiasm. It was a strange experience for Nest-kor, since she had never had to thank anyone for any of the services provided to her. It was only natural to expect people to respond to her every whim. Yet up here, she felt both alien and accepted, a strange and contradictory feeling that left her confused. She knew instinctively that these people were barbarians, uncivilized, perhaps even potential enemies. Yet, despite their poor living conditions and strange habits, she felt comfortable among them.

The woman motioned for Nest-kor to follow her. Trailing along behind her, they wended their way through a wide assortment of tents, corrals, pens, and work areas to a large collection of campfires. Here were dozens of women of various ages busily cooking and preparing food for storage. Large quantities of dried meat were being packed into sacks, hundreds of wheat cakes were being prepared, dried fruits were being parcelled out. At first Nest-kor was puzzled by what they were doing, then she realized they were preparing food for their trek. Quickly she corrected herself. Their invasion. She had to admit, however, that she could hardly envision the women and children taking part in an invasion.

Nest-kor's arrival provided an opportunity for a break in the work regimen. The women joyously collected around her, anxious to see the strange and wondrous creature their Wizard Prince had brought from the plains of Tandaria. Someone started singing, others began to clap, and soon the women were forming a circle to begin a festive dance. They pulled Nest-kor by the arms into the center of the circle and showed her how to do the steps. Awkwardly at first, then with greater confidence, Nest-kor began to join in the dance.

She laughed wildly. Never have I had as much fun! she thought. These people should be miserable, yet they were full of hope and enthusiasm. There seemed to be a dynamism here that was sadly lacking in the cities of Tandaria. Perhaps the villages still had some of this lusty enjoyment of life. She didn't know, since she had never been in any of Lodar's thousands of villages. In fact, she thought, I have never really been out of Lodar, except when we travel to Sochi-klas. And Sochi-klas was merely a summer extension of the Imperial Palace.

She recalled one of the comments that Akkra had made, one that had particularly infuriated her. He had said that she could never be a good ruler until she knew the people she ruled. At the time, she had thought him foolish and impertinent, since she came into daily contact with most of the leading nobility of Lodar. But now she realized that the nobility represented only a small part of her Empire. She realized, somewhat painfully, that the Prince had been right.

The dance stopped abruptly when a horseman galloped into the clearing. Riding right into the center of the dance, forcing the women to leap aside to avoid being trampled, he reigned up his horse right before Nest-kor. He pointed a finger accusingly at her and shouted some commands. Nest-kor stared at him in bewilderment and shook her head to indicate that she did not understand. The man shouted again his unintelligible command. This time the old woman who had escorted the Princess to the food preparation area came over and put her arm around Nest-kor's shoulders. She gently urged the Princess to come along with her.

They had gotten almost halfway across the camp, closely followed by the horseman who kept a stern watch over their progress, when Aurie, Noo and Bogii came running up.

"Where you go?" demanded Aurie, her voice revealing genuine concern. "We worried. Wizard Prince, he very angry. Promise to beat everyone. Specially Aurie."

Nest-kor herself was angry at the way she had been forced to come back, and she decided that she had enough of Akkra's arbitrariness. "Why should he be angry, Aurie? We haven't done anything wrong. You just let me handle him."

Aurie nodded. "You handle. He very angry." She knew that as soon as Akkra learned about her part in Nest-kor's departure from the camp, she would be in trouble. And while Akkra had never vented his anger against her, there were stories about the terrible things he could do to his enemies. Aurie had no desire to find out if those stories were true or not.

Akkra was standing in front of his tent, engaged in an intense conversation with several of the mountain tribal leaders. He did not notice Nest-kor's arrival until she was quite close. He turned towards her, and at first she thought she saw concern and worry in his eyes. Then, too quickly for her to be sure of her first impression, his face hardened.

"Who gave you permission to leave this tent?" he demanded harshly.

"Do I need permission, Prince Akkra? Am I truly your prisoner?" she responded curtly. "If you must know, I had to go to the latrine."

"By the gods of Tandaria, why didn't you use the one behind the tent?"

Nest-kor was flustered. It was obvious to her now that Aurie had played a trick on her. The little imp had known that Nest-kor would get lost, or at the very least be upset with the primitive conditions. It should have been obvious to her that Prince Akkra would have every modern convenience, at the very least. Her rage at Aurie mounted rapidly. She looked around for Aurie, but the mountain maiden had disappeared.

Just as quickly, however, her anger subsided. If Nest-kor had been in Aurie's place, she might have played the same prank on one of her ladies-in-waiting. She couldn't fault Aurie for that. And what harm had been done? In fact, Nest-kor had actually enjoyed herself. She was not about to allow Akkra's arbitrariness steal that enjoyment from her.

"I didn't know about it," she replied. "If you are so concerned about keeping me here, Prince Akkra, you should do a better job of providing for my needs. And if I am, indeed, a prisoner, then treat me like one! Put me in chains!" She held out her wrists in mock submission.

"Don't tempt me, Nest-kor. That may not be a bad idea. At least I would have one less problem to worry about. Oh, don't be silly. You're not a prisoner. You just don't seem to appreciate the dangers of wandering around this camp. Some of these tribes are not exactly what you would call civilized. To them, an unattached female is simply a commodity to possess, like another head of cattle or a good milk-producing goat. And there are other reasons why I cannot allow you to roam around the camp, Princess."

"And what are those reasons, Akkra?"

"I have not told the tribal leaders who you really are. To do so might put my whole plan into jeopardy, as well as put you in greater personal danger. There are many here, especially among the Japtors, who oppose the plan of relocating the tribes to the Nasilam Steppes. Right now, these opponents are evenly split between staying here or settling in Tandaria. As long as they are split, I have some control over them. You might be the deciding factor that tips the scales in favor of the Tandaria faction."

Nest-kor was puzzled. "I don't see how. What significance could I have in all this?"

"Were they to learn that you are the Imperial Princess, they would hold you as hostage, thus giving them a powerful weapon against Lodar's armies. Mith Cor would surely not endanger your life if he could find an alternative. That alternative might be to allow the tribes to settle in parts of Lodar."

Nest-kor shook her head. "He would never permit that," she insisted.

Akkra shrugged. "It is a chance I cannot take. The tribes would not survive in the plains. They would lose their identity, their uniqueness."

"That is so important?" asked Nest-kor.

"There are times when that is all there is, Your Highness," replied the Prince solemnly. "Who you are and what you are is defined by where you belong. When a people no longer belong anywhere, they no longer are a people. And when they no longer are a people, all the values that hold society together begin to slip away. You can already see that happening here. That is why it is so important to complete this migration as quickly as possible."

"You still persist in your story, don't you Akkra? You really are not intending to invade Lodar?"

Akkra shook his head in despair. "I don't know what it takes to convince you, Nest-kor. I have told you repeatedly that we are not responsible for your abduction. Whatever is going on in Lodar is not of Mazidar's making."

Nest-kor desperately wanted to believe Akkra. She could almost understand his concern about preserving the lifestyles of the mountain tribes. If only she could trust him! But all the evidence proved that he was lying! She had heard her abductors mention his name. She was in fact his prisoner. And despite the peaceful appearances of the barbarians, they were warlike. Akkra himself could not trust them fully!

She longed to believe him. As she thought about the facts she had, she realized there might be other explanations. Perhaps there really was some plot afoot in Lodar that Akkra had nothing to do with. In that case, she really should be back at the Palace, helping her father! They had to determine the nature of the conspiracy against the throne and thwart it.

She paused, suddenly realizing that this was the first time in her life that she had thought seriously about her role in ruling Lodar. Had that come as a result of her association with Akkra, she wondered. Was his sense of responsibility infectious? As she stood there she watched him as he finalized plans with the older tribal chieftians. He was so much younger than they were, yet here he was, leading and planning this whole venture. "If he can be a leader, so can I!", she thought with vehement determination.

Her desire to return to Lodar as quickly as possible became an over-powering necessity. She decided that she would approach Akkra to see if he could return her as quickly as possible. "That way," she thought, "I'll know if he is sincere or not. If he is truly honorable, he won't refuse me."

Akkra finally dismissed the chieftians and started to enter his tent. Nest-kor followed him inside. He was packing up what little belongings he had. She noticed that most of all the other items in the tent had already been bundled or put into trunks. Only the capeting and tent itself remained to be disassembled.

"How soon are we departing?" she asked.

"We were to have already started by now, Your Highness. Searching for you put us back a considerable amount."

"I didn't mean to cause any problems," she said, trying to sound as renpenitant as possible.

"I know that, Nest-kor. I guess I over-reacted. I was worried about your safety, you know."

Nest-kor's heart seemed to pound more rapidly. "You were?" she asked. Was the Prince's concern for her more than that he would have for a prisoner, perhaps? "Does that mean that you care about me?"

"Of course, Your Highness. If anything were to happen to you, my whole mission would fail. I have too much at stake to let anything disrupt my plans." Akkra finally began to comprehend the meaning behind her question. "Wait a minute, Your Highness. I hope you don't think that I have any personal feelings for you." Akkra laughed. "Come on, Nest-kor, get serious! I couldn't get emotionally attached to a child! I mean, you're pretty and attractive, but you are hardly the type I would be attracted to. Spend some more time among the barbarians, Princess, and you might learn how to be a real woman yet!"

Nest-kor glared at Akkra with a vehemance that made the Prince flinch.

Too late, he realized how insensitive he had been. He was equally surprised by the possibility that his feelings towards her meant anything all all to Nest-kor. But as he so often did, he had spoken without thinking, a trait that Tandran Dro had promised would be his undoing one of these days. It looked as if those days were arriving very quickly.

Nest-kor recovered her self-control more rapidly than Akkra did. Her voice steady and even, she asked, "When you are crossing the plains of northern Lodar, are you going to send me home?"

Akkra shook his head. "I cannot afford to draw any attention to our whereabouts, Your Highness. You must understand the position I am in. As much as I would like to return you to Lodar, I cannot. At least, not until the tribes are safely up in the Nasilam Steppes. Then, I promise you, we will ensure that you are returned to Lodar."

"But if there is trouble in Lodar, my place is there!" protested Nest-kor. "You have to take me back as soon as you can."

"Your Highness, I sympathize with your plight, but there is no possible way I can help you. I alone among all my people can take you back, and I am telling you that I will not do it until after my mission is completed. As it is, I am no longer sure that Balder Khan will be able to keep the Lodaran Lakaris busy while we cross Lodar." Akkra decided that he did not want to discuss the issue any longer, so he grabbed up his saddle pack and angrily stalked out of the tent.

Nest-kor stared at his retreating back, her eyes wide with disbelief. Balder Khan was involved in the plot also! She could not believe if, for though he came of peasant stock, her father had only the highest regard for the Conqueror. To think that he was a traitor was to think the unthinkable. Yet Akkra had clearly implicated him. What more proof did she need?

She suddenly realized that everything the Mazidaran had told her was a lie. The barbarians did intend to invade Lodar; undoubtedly there was a complementary invasion from Mazidar also in the plan.

Nest-kor suddenly knew that the survival of Lodar rested on her shoulders. She alone knew the extent of the perfidious plot Mazidar was hatching, and she alone could warn her father.

She had to escape at the earliest opportunity. She didn't know how she would accomplish her task, but she had no doubt that she would. At this point, she instinctively realized that nothing was more important than the survival of Lodar.

Akkra emerged in the mid-morning sunlight angry and frustrated. He knew that Nest-kor should be returned, yet he feared trusting the job to any of his subordinates. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that his concerns were foolish. Any of a dozen of his warriors could accomplish the task with great success. Why, then, did he hesitate?

He knew what the answer was, but did not want to admit it, even to himself. He liked having Nest-kor with him.

Was he attracted to her? Impossible, he thought. Yet, it was not that impossible after all. She was attractive. Some would even say she was beautiful, though Akkra thought she pouted too much to be really beautiful. On the other hand, when she smiled or laughed, she was strikingly attractive. Yes, he admitted, when she smiled, she was even beautiful.

What did he hope to gain by keeping her with him? Did he think she would come to like him? To admire him? He knew that he had not made a good impression in Lodar. There, he had to play the role of a dandy, an ineffectual fop who would arouse no fears. But that was not the image he wanted Nest-kor to have of him. He wanted her to see him as a great leader, a remarkable young man who could lead thousands of bickering and fighting mountain people to a new homeland.

Yet all she saw was a captor. She regarded him with suspicion and distrust. Could he blame her? Wouldn't he have the same view were he in her spot?

And she had made a good point. The fact that she was abducted in the first place meant that something was wrong in Lodar. Perhaps she was needed back in the Imperial city, though he still believed that she was safer with him. And while he seriously doubted that she was showing true signs of responsibility, perhaps she was sincere in wanting to assume her Imperial duties. Wasn't that one of the criticisms he had of her, that she was immature and irresponsible? If she were to change that behavior, didn't he have an obligation to help her?

The more Akkra thought about it, the more he realized that he should find a way to send her back to Lodar. He even knew several warriors he could send back with her to ensure her protection and safe arrival.

His thoughts were interrupted as he was greeted by a circle of the tribal chieftians. All of them were there. Ramma of the Japtars, Jahandar Kho of the Pens, Sunda Tho of his own Tolkar tribes, Chor-Dar of the Khojas, Thok of the Clors, B'jaun of the Bomahils, Al'mohan of the Gajian clans, Hal of the Korths, Balan-kazar of the Botts, Hari Rushkjor of the Kulus.

Their usually stern faces were even more hardened now. He could tell something was afoot as soon as he saw them. He greeted them cheerfully. They did not respond in kind.

"Wizard Prince, we must talk with you," began the eldest, Ramma of the Japtars. "We have just heard some disturbing news."

"Eh, and what is that?" asked Akkra.

Thok, chief of the Clors, the largest tribe in the mountain tribes, pushed his way forward. "Is it true, Akkra, that the woman you have brought to our camp is the daughter of the Emperor of Lodar?"

Akkra stared at him impassively, his face not revealing his concern that Nest-kor's identity was out. Only one person knew who she was. Aurie. And Akkra had made sure that Aurie knew the importance of keeping Nest-kor's identify secret. Why had she betrayed him? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her timorously approach the tent, as she tried to get close enough to overhear their conversation. Was it possible that she feared his wrath that much? He himself couldn't believe it, since he knew that most of his anger was simply a facade.

"Yes, it is true," he said. "What is your concern, Thok?"

"We want to know why is she here! Is she a hostage to ensure our safe crossing?"

Akkra shook his head. "No, Thok, she is not a hostage. She is here, as I have already told you, because she was abducted by two men. I happened upon them and rescued her. Rather than delay my return up here, I kept her with me. I plan to return her to Lodar as soon as we have safely crossed the Empire's eastern borders. To return her prior to that time might alert the Lodarans to our crossing and provoke unnecessary alarm."

Thok sneered contemptuously. "There would be no concern if we kept her as a hostage. The flatlanders would not dare attack us if they knew we would put their princess to the sword at the first sign of attack."

"There will be no talk like that, Thok," warned Akkra ominously. "The Princess is a guest here. At the earliest possible convenience, she will be returned to Lodar."

Several of the chiefs started to speak, but a new voice shouted them down. All turned to see Sorga, son of Thok, stalk into the center of the circle. "Isn't it true, Akkra, that the Lodaran wench is more than a guest? Isn't she your lover, Mazidaran?"

"You have no place in this meeting, Sorga," said Akkra, trying to ignore the young man's accusation.

"Let the boy speak," said Gital Khan of the Nagyars. "What he is asking might have bearing on our future."

"How so, Gital Khan?" asked B'jaun. The Bomahil chieftian had little respect for the Nagyars and even less for the Clors.

Gital Khan gave the Bomahil a contemptuous glance. "If Akkra is really the Lodaran's lover, our whole migration might only be a plan to bring us down within the grasp of Lodaran warriors so that we will be easy prey. After all, he and his father were Tolkars. Perhaps this is a Tolkar plot to exterminate their enemies."

Sunda Tho cursed Gital Khan's ancestors and leaped upon the man, his knife already out and ready to sever the Nagyar chief's jugular. Several of the other chiefs pulled the two men apart and restrained them. Sunda Tho, unable to fight with Gital Khan, continued to fling curses at him.

Akkra called for silence, which slowly came. He glared at both Sunda Tho and Gital Khan. "Your fears are foolish, Gital Khan. There is no plot against the tribes, and there is nothing between Nest-kor and myself. The time for doubts about this migration is long past. However, if you are leaking water over your decision, take your people and return to where you came from. We want no cowards on this trek." Even as he flung the insult out, Akkra knew he had made a mistake.

Gital Khan turned his anger on the Prince, his battle with the Tolkar chief all but forgotten. "You speak mighty brave words, Akkra, when your opponent is restrained," he said.

Akkra stared at the chieftian, his emotions mixed. He knew that at some point just prior to the trek, his authority would be challenged. He had expected the challenge, however, from Ramma or Thok, not from Gital Khan. Normally, Gital Khan and the Nagyars had been very supportive of the migration and Akkra's leadership. However, by speaking without thinking, Akkra had managed to turn an ally into an opponent. Why didn't he watch his words more carefully! Akkra indicated to the men holding Gital to release him. They did so hesitantly.

Akkra waited for Gital's attack, but the assault did not come from the Nagyar. Sorga, his sword drawn, leaped into the center of the circle, challenging Akkra.

"Akkra, I say you are a liar. Like your father before you, who brought only dissension and warfare to the mountains of Zepore, you are deceiving us with this migration. We Clors have always said we should stay in our ancestral homes and fight the invaders. You and your father have managed to turn our proud peoples into tribes of old women, afraid of their shadows." As he spoke, Sorga circled Akkra, jabbing his sword at the Prince. In turn, Akkra had drawn his own sword and was cautiously parrying Sorga's thrusts.

Akkra looked around him to see what support he had, but all the chieftians had all stepped back to give the combatants a chance to settle their dispute. While all there knew that Sorga was wrong to challenge the Prince in this way, they shared many of the concerns that he expressed. They wanted answers also.

"Perhaps the Clors are a bunch of old women," said Akkra calmly, "but I don't think that applies to the other tribes, Sorga."

Sorga was enraged, and he slashed furiously with his weapon. Akkra fended off each cut and thrust deftly, barely moving from one place, while Sorga danced all around him, looking for a vulnerable area. Thok called out instructions to his son, trying to calm the emotional youngster down. The chief had been in too many battles not to see the trap Akkra was setting. Sorga realized his mistake and became more methodical in his attack.

This was not what Akkra wanted. Sorga was considerably stronger than he was, and had lived most of his life at these high elevations. Akkra, despite his efficiency of movement, was becoming winded, his arm heavy. Even if he were a better swordsman than Sorga, he could not defend himself indefinitely. Yet he hesitated to attack and end the battle quickly. In that case, Sorga would only be replaced by another challenger. He had to regain the support and confidence of the chieftians.

"What would you do, Sorga? Hold the Princess hostage? They wouldn't trust the mountain tribes to release her. The plains people are too suspicious of the mountain people. They would assume that the Princess was already dead or going to be killed after we have passed. Holding Nest-kor hostage would only bring the entire might of the Lodaran Empire on us. Down there on the plains, with our women, children, animals, and wagons, we would be totally vulnerable. The Lodarans would slaughter us. Is that what you want for your people, mighty warrior?"

As he spoke, Akkra backed slowly around the clearing, trying to get closer to the smoldering cooking fire. At the same time, he tried to loosen one of his pouches of powders.

"You are wrong about another thing, Sorga. I did not bring the Lodaran here, but her presence does cause a problem. I had hoped that I would be able to return her home after we were past the Imperial borders. So even if she is not a hostage, the Lodarans don't know that. Consequently, I must return her to Lodar before we cross the borders."

"All that means," said Sorga, his sword arm swinging visciously as he increased the fury of his attack, "is that you will not be with us when the Lodaran warriors attack! You are setting a trap for us!"

"You are a fool, Sorga," said Akkra. He was now right next to the fire, only a pace or so behind him. He cut at Sorga, causing the young man to back up a step. As expected, Sorga retaliated with a vigorous onslaught. Akkra retreated, then seemingly tripped over the still hot stones surrounding the cooking fire. As he sommersaulted backwards over the fire, he deftly placed a leather pouch in the midst of the hottest embers of the fire. On the opposite side of the cooking fire, he regained his footing and renewed his defense. Warily, the two men circled the fire. Akkra could see victory in Sorga's eyes. Sorga could tell that Akkra was tiring and that the end was near. Yet when Sorga pressed the attack, the Prince found new energy to defend himself. The Mazidaran kept the fire between the two men, as though it were a defensive barrier.

Sorga was growing impatient. Although he could see that Akkra was tiring, the Prince was not tiring fast enough to suit the young man. He decided to bring the battle to a close. At the moment, however, that he chose to leap over the cooking fire, there was a loud poofing sound. Huge white clouds of smoke exploded into the air, engulfing Sorga, Akkra, and most of the surrounding chieftains. The white smoke was acrimonious and painful, causing the men to cough and rub their burning eyes.

The smoke did not linger for long, perhaps less than a minute or so. It was quickly dissipated by the wind. But when it cleared, and the chiefs had recovered their vision, Sorga lay on the ground, his arms tied behind his back, his weapon on the other side of the circle. The Wizard Prince, apparently unaffected by his own magic, was sitting calmly a few paces away, sharpening the edge of his sword. The Chieftians stared at the two men in amazement.

The Prince looked up at the men standing around him. He hid his smile of self-satisfaction at the looks of consternation that covered their faces. "Mighty chiefs, let us drink some herbal tea and make plans for our trek," he said. He clapped his hands and several servants began to scurry around with cups and pots of tea.

The chiefs warily accepted the cups of tea that were brought to them and sat down on the ground. No one looked at Sorga, who began to stir quietly as consciousness returned.

The discussions proceded without incident from then on, though Akkra noticed that Ramma and Thok remained conspicuously silent. Had Akkra been more experienced, he would have worried about their lack of participation, either cooperatively or uncooperatively. As it was, Akkra's youth and inexperience blinded him to the obvious. Far from having won over the allegience of the Clors or Japtars, he had only further alienated them. But being young, he gladly accepted a lack of confrontration as a sign of acceptance.

The plan for the migration remained as it had been proposed, with one minor variation. As the tribes left the valley of the Ram River just north of Jadpat and headed east onto the plains of Lodar, Akkra would take Nest-kor back to Lodar. He would then rejoin the migration a couple of days later.

Balan-kazar, chief of the Botts, as previously agreed, would be in charge of the migration during his absence. Jahandar Kho, chief of the Pens, would be deputy chief. Gital Khan and his Nagyars would be the advance tribe, responsible for finding the least hazardous route for the migration to follow. Thok's Clors would be responsible for ensuring that the various tribes remained in their proper marching order. B'jaun and the Bomahils were in charge of foraging and food supply -- perhaps the most critical task assigned.

The chiefs acknowledged their roles and responsibilities. Last minute coordination was completed, and the final order to break camp was given.

Flushed with the excitement of the migration about to begin, Akkra decided that he needed to demonstrate his trust and faith in all the tribes. He went over to where Sorga still lay bound on the ground. The young warrior had long since given up shouting insults at Akkra after a quiet word from his father. He glared up at the Prince as Akkra approached.

Akkra reached down and pulled Sorga to his feet. He unbound the ropes that restrained him. Sorga rubbed his wrists to bring circulation back. Akkra went over and retrieved Sorga's sword. Coming close to the young Clor, Akkra proffered the weapon. Sorga snatched it from Akkra's hands. The Prince held out his hand in friendship. Sorga stared at it, then at his father. Thok nodded imperceptibly, but it was enough for Sorga to comprehend. Aggressively, as though any hesitancy might burst the bubble, Sorga grasped Akkra's arm and squeezed it. The chiefs shouted their approval. Sorga abruptly dropped Akkra's arm and stalked off.

Akkra smiled, pleased that he had succeeded in thwarting this challenge to his authority and leadership. He might have smiled less if he had seen the look of hatred that darkened Sorga's face as the young warrior left the conference circle.

Dak Akkra remained blissfully ignorant of Sorga's feelings. Nothing was going to disrupt his day, he thought. Everything was going as well as it could.

It was, at least, until a few moments later when Aurie ran up to Akkra, her face dripping with tears. Akkra tried to calm her down and find out what had upset her.

"The Lodaran Princess, Wizard Prince! She is gone!" cried Aurie.

"What do you mean gone?" demanded Akkra. "Is she wandering around the camp again?"

Aurie shook her head. "No, no, she is gone. She took horse, ride to edge of mountain. She go back to Lodar. She say you traitor, Conqueror traitor. She very angry, Wizard Prince."

Akkra finally got Aurie calmed down. "When did she leave, Aurie? How long ago?"

She indicated an angle of the sun much lower in the sky. Akkra did some quick computations. If she rode as quickly as the path would allow, she had about a thirty-mile head start on him. He cursed all the gods of Tandaria. He could catch up with her, he knew, but her escape had just put another splinter in his plan. He quickly gave some orders to Balan-kazar and went to saddle his horse.

As he hurried out of the camp, he wondered idly what else could go wrong.

Dak Akkra was not at all sure that Nest-kor had followed the trail down the side of the mountain. He did not believe she could find the trail, though enough people and animals had use the trail that it was as plainly marked as a brick-laid highway. He had thought that she might try to avoid the trail, simply because she must know it would be easy to catch her if she remained on it. However, the trail was the only practical way down the mountain. If she had chosen another route, her chances of surviving were almost nil. One way or another, she either had to take the trail or it did not matter.

Akkra raced as quickly as he dared, fearing that his horse might lose it footing on some of the steeper parts of the path. He finally decided to slow down so he could check for any signs of her passage. Her lead was not that great that he didn't think he could catch up to her before they neared Jadpat.

It was good that he did slow down, for he began to see signs of her passage. At first, the signs were very subtle. Signs of skids in the gravel from the horse's hooves, where the horse went down too quickly. Kicked up snow and mud. And at lower levels, broken bushes, branches bent down hill, saddle items that Nest-kor discarded to lighten the horse's burden.

He had been riding for almost three hours when the signs became more obvious. He found blood-flecked saliva from the horse. He could imagine Nest-kor struggling with the animal's bit, trying to keep it under control as she forced the horse to race down the mountain slope. The saliva was fresh, indicating that he couldn't be more than a few minutes behind her.

He came around a bend in the path and pulled his horse to a sudden stop. Ahead of him was Nest-kor's horse, standing against the rock wall of the mountain. Nest-kor was nowhere to be seen. He rode quickly over to her animal and dismounted. Carefully, he checked the ground for any signs of footprints that might indicate which direction she went in. There didn't seem to be any.

Puzzled, he broadend his search area, thinking perhaps she had dismounted further back up the trail and that the horse had wandered on down. Again, he could find no signs of her presence. Was it possible that she had fallen off the horse further back still and that he had missed her? He doubted that.

He went to the edge of the trail and peered over, searching the distant rock below for any sign of her. He could see nothing. Then, suddenly, he heard the scrape of rocks behind him. He turned and looked up, just as a large rock came crashing down on his shoulder. He stumbled backwards, towards the precipice. For a brief moment, he thought he was going to fall over the edge, but he flung his arms out in front of him to counter the direction of his fall. It was almost enough, but his feet began to slip on the loose rocks at the edge of the trail. He suddenly felt himself slipping down the side of the mountain. Terrified, he grabbed at the edge of the cliff, just barely getting a hand hold. He hung there trying to regain his breath.

Then he saw Nest-kor, climbing down from a higher ledge. He knew immediately what she had done. Rather than dismounting from her horse, she had climbed up from the horse's back onto a higher ledge. Once up there, she was able to throw the rock at him.

Now she was hurrying down to finish the job she started.

Akkra struggled to pull himself up, but he could not get a toehold on the side of the cliff, nor could he get a firm grip with his hands. The loose gravel kept slipping through his fingers.

Nest-kor was now donw on the path. She hurried over to a large boulder and struggled to lift it. It proved too heavy for her, so she searched for a smaller one. Spying one, she raced towards it.

Akkra struggled to heave his body over the edge. His first attempts only caused him to slip further. If he continued like that, Nest-kor would have no need to smash his skull with a rock, he would simply fall over the edge and be smashed up on the rocks a thousand feet below.

Nest-kor had found her weapon and was now hurrying towards him. He realized that if he didn't get back onto the path, he would soon be dead. He made one last attempt. This time, he was able to swing a leg up onto the ledge. Quickly rolling his body over, he managed to get the majority of his weight onto the path. Nest-kor, only paces away, stopped in surprise. She had not expected him to get back on the path, and didn't know what to do. Then she remembered the rock in her hands. She raised it above her head and prepared to smash it down on the Prince.

Akkra rolled and kicked at the same time, his foot hitting Nest-kor just below the knee. She lost her balance and fell on top of him. The rock pounded into the gravel just next to Akkra's head, bounced, and then flew off the edge of the cliff. Akkra grabbed Nest-kor, twisted his body, and finally pinned her to the ground.

Both of them lay there, breathing heavily. Finally the Princess spoke. "Either kill me or get off of me," she said, her words coming between wheezing gasps. "You're too heavy."

Akkra stared at her in surprise, then burst out laughing. He stood up and pulled her to her feet. "By the gods of Tandaria, Your Highness, you have a lot more spunk than I ever would have thought!" He stepped back and bowed graciously. "I might even forgive you that dastardly attempt on my life just now."

"Well, I'd do it again, damn you Prince Akkra! I'm just sorry that I failed!" She rushed at him and tried to push him over the edge of the cliff.

Akkra grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back. Akkra's humor deserted him as he applied more pressure than was necessary. "I don't know what is wrong with you, Nest-kor. We have both found ourselves in a tough situation. You oppose everything I have tried to do to make the circumstances better for you. Why do you do that? There are times when I think there might be hope for you. Then you bring me back to reality by acting like a spoiled brat."

"Please stop," whimpered Nest-kor, "you're hurting me."

"You're damn right I'm hurting you! I am tired of you and your self-centered behavior, Nest-kor. If you want me to help you get back to Lodar, from now on, you're going to behave yourself." He loosened his grip and pushed her towards her horse.

She turned and faced him, rubbing the hurt from her arm. Akkra was the only person in the world who had ever dared to oppose her like that. Even her father had never made demands on her, except when she was very young. But since her mother's death, many years earlier, even he had been reluctant to oppose her.

Yet here was Dak Akkra, a minor prince from a neighboring state, a man who did not grovel at her feet, a man who was not afraid of her or her position. She backed slowly towards her horse, still watching him. She had just tried to kill him, yet his anger was not because of that, but because she behaved improperly! Was he that sure of himself?

They mounted there horses in silence. Nest-kor turned hers to head back up the trail, but Akkra was already heading downhill.

"Aren't you taking me back to the camp?" she asked in surprise.

"No, Your Highness," he said. "Even before you tried your escape, I had decided that you were right. We must return you to Lodar fairly quickly." He knew that this was a mistake. He could even imagine his father's and Tandran Dro's reactions if they were to find out. Fortunately, they would never know.

Unless something else went wrong. But what could happen now? he wondered. He would have Nest-kor back in Lodar and be able to rejoin the tribes before they got halfway across Lodar. The only possibel problem was if Balder Khan thought Akkra had anything to do with abducting the Princess. She would be able to clarify that with the Conqueror.

Nest-kor was surprised by Akkra's decision, but she tried not to show it. "You're taking me back now?" she asked hesitantly. When Akkra nodded, Nest-kor was barely able to contain her exaltation. But she didn't want Akkra to see how happy she was. In fact, she did not want to do anything to cause him to change his mind. She decided that she had better be very nice to him. "Behave properly!" she thought sarcastically.

Evening came and Akkra stopped to make a camp. He was surprised at how cooperative Nest-kor was in assisting in setting up the camp. She gathered firewood for the fire, and while her selection was not always the best, she did put forth a gallant effort. There meal was meager, since there was no game at this elevation. One of the saddlebags that Nest-kor had not yet tossed aside did have some dried meat in it. Akkra chewed on his share with enthusiasm. Nest-kor bit at hers hesitantly, each bite a separate victory won at a terrible cost.

Once the sun set, the air cooled quickly. Akkra built up the fire, and both he and Nest-kor huddled near its flames. The stars came out, bright jewels that lit up the heavens. An occassional meteor delighted Nest-kor who excitedly pointed them out to Akkra.

Finally Akkra commented that it was time to go to sleep. He retrieved the saddle blankets from the horses and spread them out next to the fire. Nest-kor pointed out that both blankets were side by side.

Akkra nodded, apparently ignorant of whatever concerned her. "Of course, Your Highness. It is cold up here. The closer we are to each other, the less likely either of us will freeze. But, if you don't like that, you can sleep on the other side of the camp fire."

"I think that would be better," she said, trying to be pleasant. "Give me one of the blankets."

Akkra smiled, shaking his head. "There aren't enough blankets, Your Highness. If you want a blanket, you sleep on this side."

Nest-kor bit her lip to contain her rage. She tried to accomodate Akkra, and he repaid her by taking advantage of her. If he thought, however, that he could take any liberties with her, he was mistaken. She would never give him that opportunity.

She tried to sleep on the opposite side of the fire, but the ground was cold and lumpy. Soon she was shivering uncontrollably. Finally, she got up and came around to Akkra's side of the fire. She lay down between him and the fire, pulling the blanket onto her. She tried to keep as much distance between him and her as the blanket would allow, but it wasn't much.

She woke up just as dawn was beginning to lighten up the sky. She found her head resting on Akkra's arm. His other hand was draped around her body, his hand cupping one of her breasts. She was pressed into the crook of his body. She lay there quietly, afraid to move or disturb him. She was surprised at how pleasant the feel of his body against hers was. She had never been this close to a man before, and she found the experience rather exciting. She could also tell that Akkra found it exciting, judging by the way parts of his body pressed against hers. She had heard her maidens talk about this; it was another thing entirely to experience it firsthand.

Her reverie did not last. Akkra woke up and quickly extricated himself from her. He seemed somewhat embarassed by the position and the condition he found himself in. He initially tried to avoid any contact with Nest-kor, but busied himself with breaking camp. Nest-kor found his discomfiture refreshing.