Hega was a small town in the Cordonian Province of Alcea. Its citizens made their living selling furs and lumber. Being one of the northernmost cities in the new nation of Alcea, its winters were harsh, and its summers were short. It was a small community where everyone knew everyone else, and the affairs of the rest of the world had little impact on the people of Hega. The only outside influence in the last generation had been the clearing of the skies more than three years earlier. The return of the sun promoted growth in the trees and the animals, and that pleased Karl Gree.

Karl was a seventh-generation hunter of the Gree family, and he knew his trade well. Even during the years of darkness, his father had no trouble providing for his family, and Karl managed to learn all that his father knew before the younger Gree took a wife. It was a simple life, but a satisfying one for Karl and Lyda.

"You look tired this morning," Lyda said as Karl drank a cup of milk and pulled his boots on. "You should get more rest. There are still two hours before dawn."

"I want to hunt the far meadow today," Karl smiled lovingly at his wife. "I saw large bear tracks heading out that way yesterday. The time to strike is now before the first snow comes. If I get an early enough start, I will be able to make it home to bed tonight, otherwise I will need to sleep in the forest. You aren’t trying to get rid of me, are you?"

Lyda stopped stirring the pot and walked over to her husband. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately.

"Never," she smiled. "I just don’t want you getting sick. You need to spend more time in bed."

Karl kissed Lyda and rose to his feet. "Everyone warned us to get married just before winter so we could spend our first months together," he chuckled. "We’ll have more time to spend together real soon. I have to make the best of the hunting season while it lasts."

"I know," sighed Lyda. "Is your father going with you?"

"Not today," Karl shook his head and frowned. "In fact, I promised that we would share some milk with them today. I should have gotten up earlier."

"I will take care of it," offered Lyda. "You go get that early start and come home tonight if you can."

"Thanks," smiled Karl as he leaned over and kissed Lyda again. "Make sure you do it early. Mother likes milk for the morning meal."

"I will tend to it right after you leave and take it over there as soon as the sun rises," promised Lyda. "Good luck."

"Getting a bear does not involve luck," grinned Karl as he picked up his bow and quiver. "I will try to be back tonight."

Lyda smiled and waved as Karl left the small hut and tromped off into the night. She hummed happily as she finished preparing the stew and set it to simmer. She looked out the single window in the small home and saw that the sky was beginning to lighten. Grabbing a pail, she left the hut and skipped around to the rear of the house. Tethered on a long rope was a brown cow, and Lyda beamed with pride as she saw it. There were only a handful of cows in the small town, and it pleased Lyda to be the owner of one of them.

Lyda filled the bucket with milk and started off towards the road to town. It wasn’t much of a road, but there was little need for anything better. There were about as many horses in Hega as there were cows and only two wagons. Most of the citizens of Hega had never been farther than five miles from the town. There was little need for roads except for the occasional merchant and the timber wagons that came up once a month.

Lyda started singing a joyous tune as she walked down the center of the road. She smiled as she saw the sun begin to peek over the distant mountains. She always marveled at the beautiful colors the clouds turned at sunrise, and this day was no exception. When she reached the center of the town, neighbors began to say hello to her. Everyone in Hega rose early, and the town was a beehive of activity. Lyda smiled and waved to everyone as she walked down the center of the road towards the house of Karl’s parents.

Suddenly, Lyda heard the dull roar of thunder, and she halted. Her eyes rose to the sky, and her brow creased with confusion. The clouds were light and fluffy, but the thunder increased in intensity. She put down the pail of milk and shaded her eyes with her hand as she gazed at the sky.

"Riders!" shouted an old man. "Get out of the road, Lyda."

Lyda lowered her eyes and saw the riders coming towards her. Her mouth opened in surprise at the large number of horses being ridden towards the town. She had never seen that many horses at one time before, and she stared in awe. There appeared to be more riders than people in all of Hega. As Lyda remained frozen in the middle of the road, the riders peeled off the road to each side of the town. She stared at the men in confusion and wondered what they were doing.

As the riders spread around the buildings of the town, the first screams split the air. The riders shouted loud, unintelligible words, but it was the screams of death that filled Lyda’s ears. The young woman wanted to race out of the town and hide in her hut, but her feet would not move. Her eyes grew large and her mouth fell open as she watched the men shoot arrows into anyone they saw. Friends and neighbors fell to the street with blood-curdling screams, and Lyda’s legs began to shake violently as fear gripped her heart.

Suddenly, the riders were everywhere. They were behind the buildings and racing up and down the road through the town. Dozens of them rode right past her. She tried to close her eyes as she waited for the sting of the arrow that would kill her, but her eyes refused to close, and she was forced to watch as the riders killed everyone. Not content to just kill the citizens, the riders shot fiery arrows into the buildings and soon the entire town was ablaze.

As the heat of the inferno began to sear her skin, two riders dismounted right in front of Lyda. They stared into her face and then turned to gaze at the flames. That was when Lyda saw the elven ears. She tried to plead for mercy, but no words escaped her throat. Inexplicably, the two elves moved off without harming Lyda. As the town of Hega burned around her, the elves mounted their horses and slowly rode past her and out of town. Lyda’s eyes flicked from rider to rider as the elves rode by, and still she could not move from the center of the road. Within minutes the only sounds in Hega were the crackling of the fires as the buildings of the town collapsed into fiery heaps of rubble. Soon after the elves were gone, Lyda’s legs gave out, and she fell to the ground as she passed out.

When the young woman awoke, Hega no longer existed. Lyda gazed around the burnt town, hoping that she was deep within a nightmare. She struggled to her knees and then to her feet. Lyda left her pail of milk in the road and slowly walked through the destroyed town. She examined the bodies of her neighbors, hesitantly at first, but with increasing despair as she searched for anyone alive. Only after Lyda had walked the entire length of the town did the first tear arrive.

Lyda screamed in anguish as she fell to her knees, and the tears started flowing. Only she had survived the slaughter.

* * *

Rut-ki was a petite woman with shiny, black hair cut short in a boyish manner. Her black almond-shaped eyes were clear and devoid of emotion. Her lips were set firm in neither a smile nor a frown, as if her mind was a thousand miles away. Rut-ki looked more like a young girl who sold fish and rice at a stall in the marketplace than a master instructor of martial arts in the Imperial Palace of Lanoir.

Rut-ki watched silently as nine warriors filed into the training room. Each of the pupils bowed with respect to Rut-ki as they entered the room and sat on the floor. The warriors bowed their heads in meditation as they awaited the instructions for the day’s lesson. Rut-ki waited until the men were settled before walking to the corner of the room and moving a human-sized dummy to the center of the room.

"Today we will practice the flying kick," announced Rut-ki, "but with a twist."

The nine students immediately raised their heads and gave their instructor their complete attention.

"I need two of you to hold the dummy while I demonstrate," declared Rut-ki.

Two of the warriors rose and held the dummy from the sides. Rut-ki nodded and continued her instruction.

"When you are facing a lone opponent," she continued, "the flying kick can be a potent maneuver, but in certain situations it can leave you more vulnerable than before. This is particularly true when there are multiple opponents. Today I will show you a technique to lessen that vulnerability. There are many variations of this technique, and we will learn them all over the course of the next few sessions. We will begin with the simplest of the variations. I need another volunteer."

Another warrior rose to volunteer and Rut-ki positioned him so that she was equidistant between the volunteer and the dummy.

"For this exercise, I will face two opponents," explained Rut-ki. "I will strike a blow to one and simulate a strike to the second. Tomorrow I will secure a second training dummy so that we are able to perfect both strikes. Observe."

Rut-ki took three quick strides towards the dummy and leaped into the air. Her right foot streaked outward and smashed into the chest of the training dummy, causing the men holding it to struggle to maintain their balance. Instead of riding through the kick as normally demonstrated, Rut-ki’s left foot struck a second later as she used the dummy to reverse her momentum. Her hands hit the floor and her legs flipped over her head. As her feet touched the floor, Rut-ki leaned forward and dove towards the volunteer. She rolled into a ball and rose swiftly with her right arm streaking upward. The fingertips of her right hand stopped an inch from the volunteer’s throat.

"Any questions?" asked Rut-ki.

One of the men holding the dummy raised his hand and Rut-ki nodded at him.

"You used the bulk of your first target to propel you backwards," stated the warrior. "What if the target was a scrawny man? You would not succeed."

"If it were a scrawny man," smiled Rut-ki, "you would have no need for a flying kick. Also note that I used a kick to the chest of the dummy. A kick to the head or neck would be more lethal, but it would not offer the momentum needed for the recovery. Always remember to measure your opponents. Each technique has pros and cons. That is why I will teach them all to you."

The warrior nodded with understanding, and the instructor waited for any other questions. There were none. Rut-ki opened her mouth to give further instruction when the door opened and a soldier entered. The soldier bowed to Rut-ki and then crossed the room and handed her a slip of paper. Rut-ki read the paper and then examined the new arrival.

"Have you had prior training, Wei-ra?" Rut-ki asked.

"A little," Wei-ra answered. "Certainly nothing comparable to the quality of the Imperial Palace, but I am a quick learner."

"We shall see," Rut-ki replied without emotion. "Join the rest and let us begin the warm-up exercises."

As the warriors began exercising, Rut-ki stepped away and observed. When the exercises were complete, the warriors returned to their seated positions. Rut-ki again asked for volunteers and performed another demonstration. Again she asked for questions, but there were none.

"Now you shall have a chance to practice the new technique," announced Rut-ki. "Two will hold the dummy. There will be no second opponent for today. You are to imagine one present. Remember to strike the chest of the dummy. Begin."

The first two men in line held the dummy while the rest tried the technique. Rut-ki watched silently. When all eight of the men had attempted the technique, the third and fourth held the dummy and everyone tried it again. Rut-ki watched dispassionately, but a frown marred her face when the new man changed position with another warrior. Instead of being the tenth man in line, he wound up being the eighth. The order of the warriors did not carry any significance, but the move disturbed Rut-ki for some reason.

It was when the ninth and tenth warriors were holding the dummy that disaster struck. Wei-ra missed the dummy with his flying kick. The newcomer’s foot smashed into the throat of one of the men holding the dummy. The stricken man fell to the floor with a gurgling sound, and Rut-ki rushed to his side. The man was dead.

"A thousand pardons, Instructor," bowed Wei-ra. "My footing slipped as I launched into the kick. Will he be all right?"

Rut-ki rose and turned to face the newcomer. She peered into his eyes as if trying to read his thoughts, but the man’s face was a mask of concern.

"Begin meditation," Rut-ki said calmly.

The warriors hurried to their positions and sat on the floor. They bowed their heads in meditation as Rut-ki crossed the room and opened the door. She slipped into the hallway and snared a passing soldier. She issued terse instructions to the soldier and immediately reentered the training room. Within a few minutes, three soldiers entered the training room. Two of the soldiers loaded the body onto a stretcher and carried it away. The third soldier was an officer, and he spoke briefly with Rut-ki before asking for everyone’s attention.

"As with any death in training," announced the officer, "there will be an investigation. You nine men will follow me."

The students rose and formed a line. They followed the officer out of the room. Several of them turned to glance at Rut-ki as they left, but her face was emotionless as always. A few minutes after the students left, a young servant entered the room. Rut-ki looked towards the door and frowned at the man. She desired time alone to think about the accident.

"This is a training room for officers," she declared. "You do not belong here. Leave."

The young man closed the door as he entered the room and glanced around.

"I will not tell you again," snapped Rut-ki. "I will not bother to have you arrested. I will deal with you myself if you do not leave immediately. You are not authorized to be here. Leave now."

The servant’s eyes glanced around the room examining the training dummy and the instructor with interest. Rut-ki’s normally calm demeanor began to fade. Her lips drooped into a determined frown as she walked across the floor towards the obstinate servant. She passed the young man and opened the door to the hallway.

"Get out," she demanded. "I need to be alone."

"Close the door," the young man said. "I am here to investigate the death of an officer."

Rut-ki looked at the servant with disbelief. "I have already met the inspector," she snapped. "Za-chan does not send a servant to investigate accidents."

"So," smiled the man, "you think it was an accident?"

"Who are you?" demanded Rut-ki.

"My name is Bin-lu," smiled the young man as he walked past Rut-ki and closed the door. "Tell me what happened."

"I will say nothing to a servant," Rut-ki shook her head. "I am within my rights to force you to leave. Do not make me do it."

Bin-lu smiled at the young woman. "It is obvious from your attitude that you have suspicions about the circumstances of the death. Do you think the attack was deliberate?"

Rut-ki suddenly lunged at Bin-lu with an attempted debilitating strike. Bin-lu moved swiftly to one side and slapped the instructor’s hand away. Rut-ki whirled, extending her leg to sweep Bin-lu’s feet out from under him. Bin-lu leaped into the air to avoid the strike. Rut-ki dispensed with any pretense of being nice as she launched into a series of furious strikes against the servant. To her amazement, Bin-lu avoided each of her attacks. She suddenly halted her offensive.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"I am Bin-lu," smiled the man.

"That is not what I meant," retorted Rut-ki. "I am the instructor in the Imperial Palace because my skills are superior to all others, yet it is obvious that you are a man of considerable worthiness. Who are you?"

"I am a Knight of Alcea," smiled Bin-lu. "Za-chan is aware of my presence in Ongchi, and he gives me free rein to investigate as I need to. While I would very much enjoy a bout with such a worthy opponent as you, it must wait. Tell me about the incident."

"A Knight of Alcea?" echoed Rut-ki. "Why are you dressed as a servant?"

"To remain invisible," shrugged Bin-lu. "I trust that my secret will not be repeated from your lips?"

"If you can prove your assertions," Rut-ki replied suspiciously.

"Very well," nodded Bin-lu. "There are two ways that I can do so. We can go before Za-chan, and he will verify it, or you can come to my room, and I will show you the tunic given to me by King Arik. I would prefer not to expose my interest in this matter to anyone at the moment. Will the tunic suffice?"

"It will," Rut-ki nodded.

Bin-lu opened the door to the hallway, and the two Lanoirians left the training room and walked to Bin-lu’s quarters. Rut-ki noted that the quarters were in the diplomatic section of the palace, and when Bin-lu showed her the tunic, she nodded and sat down.

"I am sorry to have doubted you," Rut-ki said softly.

"I am pleased that you did," replied Bin-lu. "One must never take anyone at face value. Tell me what happened in the training room."

Rut-ki told her recollections to the Knight of Alcea. Her telling was matter-of-fact without any indication of her true feelings on the matter.

"According to your story," Bin-lu summarized, "each student had four attempts to try the technique being taught. Were any other kicks off the mark?"

"None," replied Rut-ki. "It is an exceptional group of students. They learn very quickly, and they are well-skilled."

"Including Wei-ra?" asked Bin-lu.

"As I mentioned," answered Rut-ki, "this was his first session with me. It was obvious that he had had prior training. Still, I cannot come out and say that it was intentional. Even the best of us can miss once in a while."

"True," Bin-lu conceded. "How did he land?"

Rut-ki frowned. "He landed well. That bothers me a bit, but not enough to condemn the man. It was his first session. Surely, he must have been nervous."

"Did he appear nervous?" asked Bin-lu.

"No," conceded Rut-ki, "but we are trained to hide our emotions. Surely, you are aware of that?"

"I am," nodded Bin-lu. "That does not mean that we always succeed."

"True," agreed Rut-ki, "but he showed no nervousness that I could detect. It could have been just bad luck. It was the last kick of the session. Had he not slipped, there would be no investigation. It was a senseless death."

"The last kick of the lesson?" echoed Bin-lu. "Did you not say that Wei-ra had just joined the group?"

"I did," replied Rut-ki.

"Then he should have been the tenth student," frowned Bin-lu. "Why was he not holding the dummy for others?"

"He should have been," the instructor said softly. "He changed positions in the line. That bothered me at the time, but not enough to remark on it. He was new after all."

"Was the dead man the ninth in line?" asked Bin-lu.

"Mu-chen was his name," Rut-ki nodded. "He was ninth in line."

"Interesting," mused Bin-lu. "Wei-ra would never have had a chance to strike Mu-chen unless he did change his position in line. That is one coincidence too many for me."

"But why kill Mu-chen?" queried Rut-ki. "And why in such a way?"

"Those are the questions we must find answers to," shrugged Bin-lu.

"We?" questioned Rut-ki. "I am not an investigator."

"I could use your help," smiled Bin-lu. "While Za-chan would certainly give me access to anything I want, it might draw some unwanted attention to the investigation. As the death occurred in your training room, certain questions coming from you would be taken as mere curiosity."

"I am not authorized for investigations," objected Rut-ki. "I am an instructor."

"As a Knight of Alcea," smiled Bin-lu, "I can authorize you. Will you work with me on this?"

"What do you want me to do?" asked the instructor.

"You have access to the records of your students," answered Bin-lu. "I need to know what the duties of Mu-chen and Wei-ra were. Did they know each other? Did they both know a third person in common? Was either of them working on investigations? Basically, if it was a murder, and I suspect it was, there has to be a motive."

"Won’t the Lanoirian investigator find that information and act upon it?" asked Rut-ki.

"I would be willing to wager that it will be ruled an accident," answered Bin-lu. "It really is a clever way to silence someone without having to go into hiding. If Mu-chen was simply murdered in his bed, there would be a murder investigation, and all sorts of alarms would go up. As it is, it will be ruled an unfortunate accident."

"And a blemish on my record as an instructor," frowned Rut-ki. "I will do it. What else do you need?"

"I want to enroll in your class," replied Bin-lu. "Perhaps I can befriend Wei-ra."

"My classes are only for officers," Rut-ki shook her head.

"Then I will be an officer," smiled Bin-lu.

"Can you do that?" questioned Rut-ki.

"I can do anything," grinned Bin-lu. "Being one of your students will also give me a reason to be in your company. This is going to work out quite well."

Rut-ki watched Bin-lu grin and wondered what she was getting herself involved in.