"Put the damn pup down, Duir."

Duir looked up at his granduncle Yarrow and squinted into the late afternoon sun. "Are we done here, Uncle?"

"Ashe and I have a few more things to discuss." Yarrow scowled and moved off to speak to his brother, so Duir continued to sit and wait on the log with the wolfcub. He chuckled as it worried at his gloved fingers. "Oh, you've upset him. You are entirely too healthy for my dear Uncle."

Duir had accompanied his uncles to the tainted Pool shortly after Ashe had returned after seeing Blackthorn and his son off to Camelot. A rather tiresome search had ensued as they searched the surrounding area to prove Yarrow's contention that it was not the Pool which had produced the wolf-things, that they were instead a new breed of beast. They'd found a den, Duir had snatched the cub, and Yarrow had been proven wrong. The cub was a normal, healthy specimen. Another hour's tracking and searching showed that wolves that had drank from the black water were..Changed. Those that survived anyway. Yarrow has seemed upset by this.

Duir found that interesting. Yarrow had always seemed unflappable, but something about this Pool thing definitely had unsettled him. And then there was how he reacted around Ashe; being near his twin brought out a side that Duir had never seen before. He decided he didn't like it. Plans would have to be changed.

"Ouch! Careful, cub! You'll ruin my glove!" He shook it slightly and then glanced back across at his granduncles. This trip had been a revelation. For one thing, he had realized how close the twins were, even if they themselves didn't see it. Must be that soulbond thing. The time spent with the herd boys had produced a wealth of stories about his relatives that Yarrow had never told Duir. It seemed everyone knew damn near everything about them. They were gods be damned legends!

That was another thing. Duir hated being the only non-legend in the family. He'd have to remedy that, but he wasn't planning on doing legendary heroic deeds to equal his kin. A person could get killed doing things like that. No, far easier to eliminate a few of the legends instead. He supposed Yarrow would like it if he started with Uncle Ian and that mouthy son of his, what with his blood oath and all. But there was Uncle Yarrow's weakness. "Uncle thinks entirely too small, cubling", Duir whispered. "He wants vengeance. Nasty, complicated thing. All I want is power."

Duir looked at the twins again. What, he wondered, would happen if one of them died? Would the other die as well? A point to ponder, two birds with one stone. Then he could move on to the Blackthorns. Uncle Ian first, of course. Then Duir would discuss dwarves and horses at length with Cousin Shane. With the others gone, there would be no other choice for Evaynan but to name him Heir to the Silver Rose. Why Yarrow had not pursued a similar course long before this had made Duir wonder, but now, seeing the two brothers together, Duir could see the problem. Despite it all, the two still loved each other as brothers.

Pity, that.

The cub growled and Duir cursed as its teeth drew blood from a finger. "You ruined my glove!"

"Will you let that beast go!" Ashe had ridden off and Yarrow was now striding over towards his own horse. "I have things I must attend to. We're going to Isle."

"Yes, Uncle." Now what was Isle? Duir stood, scratching the cub under the chin, then held it so it could see his face. "Never bite the hand that feeds you unless you can bite the whole thing off."

Then, he broke its neck.

11/00

*********

The Lost: Part XVIII

"Can't you be left alone for a minute without all hell breaking loose?"

Duir didn't even turn around. Yarrow was so tiresome lately, and besides, he liked watching the water rush past the bottom of the boat. Unfortunately, it seemed his uncle was most upset, for Yarrow grabbed him by the arm and turned him to face him.

"What did you do to upset that man?"

"The sailor?"

"The mate, aye"

"Really, Uncle, I offered to pay the man."

"It appears," Yarrow hissed "that there was some sentimental value that your coin will not replace."

Duir sighed. "The damn thing bit me. So I dropped it over the side to teach it manners. I held onto it's tether."

"It drowned"

"Well I thought monkeys could swim! I swear, Uncle!"

Yarrow looked at Duir with disbelief. "If I thought you were that stupid, I would have left you back in that village where I found you and your mother."

"And of course I am eternally grateful, Uncle, that you did not."

"See that you remain so. And don't antagonize the crew any further before we reach Isle. We might find it hard to get passage back if the word gets out you are a liability." Yarrow leaned his elbows on the ship's rail and gazed towards the west. "We should be there by tomorrow."

"And that thing nailed to the masthead will gain us entry?" murmured Duir. "Tell me again who we are going to see?"

"Your cousins. Ian's twin daughters."

"And he knows you have them? Really, Uncle, why didn't he accuse you before grandfather when we were all there?"

"He didn't get the chance. There was the matter of finding out about you. And then the beasts attacking his son. But do not be deceived. I fully expect he will bring the matter before Evaynan soon. I will have to make arrangements for the twins to be moved if that occurs."

Duir nodded. "Twins again. Uncle Ian had two sets of them hasn't he?"

"Yes, he does" Yarrow looked at his nephew. "What of it?"

"Oh it just struck me that twins seem to run in our family. There's you and Ashe as well. Although, strictly speaking, you aren't really twins any more, are you?"

Yarrow straightened. "I don't want to discuss it."

"I mean, that scar. It's a nasty one I thought. And I can see how strongly the two of you look like each other if you take that away."

"I said, I do not want to discuss this, Duir. "

"Of course," he purred with a note of sympathy. "I must confess I was meaning to ask you how it had happened."

Yarrow suddenly slammed Duir against the rail, nearly bending the younger elf over it. "I said, enough. The scar will not be discussed, is that clear? And you will behave yourself the rest of the voyage, or we will see if you can swim. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, Uncle."

Yarrow looked at him a moment longer, eyes narrowed, then nodded and released his grip on Duir's collar. He walked away without a backward glance as Duir grabbed the rail to keep from slipping overboard and righted himself.

"Well, well, Uncle!" he whispered as he turned to face out to the water again. He straightened his tunic, a cold smile briefly forming . Something more to use if he needed a weapon against his uncle.

"Well, well, indeed!"

12/00

*********

The Lost: Part XIX

The wind howled outside the tower and here and there found entrance through cracks to chase itself about the room. Occasionally it ruffled the clothes or fair hair of the lone occupant, but Ashevathallion of Clan Silver Rose had endured worse than a cold draft and he sat unmoved. He stared for long silent hours at the fire dwindling in the small hearth before him, lost in his memories and his thoughts. At last he rose with a sigh moving over to throw open the wooden shutters of the lone window of his apartment gazed out on snow covered Camelot.

Off in the distance the ocean glowed silver in the moonlight. He closed his eyes and fell easily into the light trance that was needed, aided by the very room itself. This had been the residence of Lady Xanthia for a time before her marriage to Blackhawke and the energies left behind by her workings now aided in his. He sent His mind out swiftly and surely, and directly to where he sensed the presence of his brother Yarrow.

*********

This had not been the easiest of crossings Yarrow had ever made to the hidden Isle, which in some elven dialects was called Tol Dolen. The Autumn was giving Way to Winter and the seas were not going along gently with the change of seasons. Duir had shut himself up in the cabin to ride out the storm, but Yarrow stayed on deck, hand gripping lines for support as he roared with laughter at every toss and dip of the water. He'd long ago discarded his soaked tunic and was now seriously considering doing the same with boots and breeches, the better to meet the elements head-on. He wound a rope about his forearm, and was about to remove his boot when some spray burst over the ship's rail. Instead of whirling away on the wind, the veil of water coalesced and glowed, and then a figure appeared upon it.

"Ashe! Brother! Come, ride the waves with me!" Yarrow held out his free hand towards the image; Ashe appeared to be gazing at him from a narrow window. "Say yes, my brother! It will be like the old days!"

"Yarrow, the old days are gone, you saw to that. Brother, I beg you, return the girls to Ian of your own choice. It is the only way we can be what we once were to each other. Please, do this thing!"

"Always, Ian. What of me? What of Rowan?"

"Rowan is dead, Yarrow. This will not change that, and I know she would not approve. Will you meet her in the Summer Lands with the knowledge of what you have done on your soul?"

Yarrow howled with rage. Behind him the crew who witnessed saw only that he seemed to be talking to himself, and made gestures to ward off evil. He would have been greatly amused by that if he had seen it, but instead he glared at the image of his far off brother. "He killed her! Him and that dog of a father! I told you that if Rowan bore that man a child naught good would come of it. And you would not listen to me!"

"You always loved Rowan too much, and yet not enough to do the right thing."

"It was you, wasn't it? It was you who kept Ian from mentioning I had his daughters to our father when he visited, wasn't it?"

Ashe nodded. "To my shame, brother, to my shame. I knew what would come of it. Evaynan would banish you, and it would have broken his heart. I hoped I could convince you make peace with Ian, and return the girls, Yarrow. You still have time to do the right thing."

"Never!"

His twin shook his head sadly. "I give you this final chance, Yarrow. You have until MidWinter. After that, I will go to Father and tell him what I know. That's nearly two moons. More than that, I cannot or will not do."

"Fine! You do what you must, brother, and so will I." He made an angry gesture and the veil of water dissolved into mist.

In the tower room back at Camelot, Ashe turned back to stare at the fire and grieve for the past.

On the deck of the wildly plunging ship, his twin shouted angrily into the storm and wiped the moisture away from his eyes.

It was not seawater, but it still tasted bitter.

12/00

*********

The Lost: Part XX

"Squish, squish, squish, squish. SQUISH!"

A burst of laughter from three children echoed across the nearly empty Faire grounds as Ian Blackthorn made his way over the muddy field. Under each arm dangled one of his sons and his daughter Diana sat on his shoulders, all three urging him on across the field as he stomped mud and roared like a giant. "SQUISH!"

Someone clapped softly. Taken unawares, Ian nearly lost his balance, one foot slipping, and he barely managed to keep from landing on his rump in the mud.

"Really `Thorn, you never cease to amaze me at the depths of your hidden talents. Mudstomper extraordinaire! I am impressed."

Ian steadied himself and turned. Off to his right stood an abandoned booth, and there, perched on a table, sat Tyralor McDougall.

"`Lor!" Ian tightened his grip on Calen and Conn as the boys waved at Tyralor. "Hi `Lor!"

The smaller man waved a few fingers and winked solemnly "Hullo, young `Thorns." His eyes lifted to the girl. "Another? Really, `Thorn, don't you have any other pursuits besides creating a small army?" He favored Diana with a wink as well and was rewarded with a crow of laughter.

"She's Aidan's lass. She favors her Ma and her Aunt Skye."

"Ah, yes. I'd heard about all that." He frowned at the mud. "You couldn't have had the Faire in the market square, or someplace else more civilized, with cobblestones? " He swung one leg up over the other and pulling a dagger, began fastidiously scraping the ooze from the sole of his boot. "I met your uncle here the other day. Did he mention it?"

Ian nodded. "Aye. He told us you entertained the children for a minute or two playing that flute of yours. And he said something about you buying the entire stock of some potter's booth and then smashing it all after the man left. Whatever was that all about?"

"Interesting fellow, your uncle. Entirely too tall, mind you, but then that seems to run in your clan, doesn't it?" Tyralor switched feet and began working on the other boot. "As for the other, yes, this is the man's booth. He had all the talent of a cow and the temperament to match, and truth be told, his wife has a better touch at the potter's wheel than he, if he'd only let her near it. Seems it was her father's kiln to begin with and the lout married into the business; if she follows my advice she'll brain the man with one of his own monstrosities and use the body to fuel the kiln." He finished the scraping, cleaned the dagger with a scrap of cloth, and looked up "But she won't; more's the pity." He brushed a stray piece of mud off his grey tunic.

"I see. That explains the one piece Ashe said you set aside. Well, there we are. Ian raised a brow. "Really, Tyralor, you never cease to amaze me at the depths of your hidden talents. Pottery critic extraordinaire! I am impressed." He smiled brightly.

A brief flicker in Tyralor's violet eyes was all the reaction Ian could see. He recalled talk that McDougall was a sculptor among his other less dangerous talents. At any rate, Tyralor ignored the comment and paused a few seconds before he went on.

"I've some information you may find of interest. The Welshman you were seeking is back in Camelot. An acquaintance of mine tells me he's been seen wandering from tavern to tavern in The Hook. I thought you might like to know."

Ian became still, and as if sensing their father's mood, the children did as well. "Are you sure about this?"

"My source is highly reliable. This Welshman, this Meredudd, has been down in his cups and carrying on about your other uncle, interestingly enough. Falling out among thieves, it sounds like to me. Good help is so hard to find nowadays." He leaned back over the table's edge and grabbed a handful of large pottery shards. "If I were you I should waste no time in finding him, Thorn. Word is there's a reward on the man other than the one you've offered, and I'd wager it's from this other uncle of yours."

"And in return for this news, I gather, you expect something from me?"

Tyralor gave Ian a look of pure innocence. "I am hurt to the quick, `Thorn! Did you think I expected instant gratification? I merely report on an item you may find useful." He tossed a piece of pottery in the mud, slid down to stand on it, then tossing another shard a few feet away, stepped across the mud to stand upon that one in turn. "Besides I'd like to save the favor for a later occasion." He used another shard to take another step further from the Blackthorns. "At least the pots are good for something, after all."

"How long has Meredudd been back?" Ian shifted his grip on the twins before they slid head first out to the mud. At least Diana had a firm grip on the collar of his tunic.

"Two days. Long enough for his presence to have become an irritation. Associates I need for various projects have been diverted by this matter., so I do hope you will get him first and we can move on." Three more large shards of pottery and Tyralor stood on higher and less muddy ground. "Good day, young `Thorns." A casual wave and a nod to Ian, and Tyralor moved gracefully away.

Ian watched quietly for a few minutes, until Calen squirmed under his left arm. "Down, Da?"

"Aye, Calen, I'll put you down as soon as we clear this mud. Then we'll get you three home. Your Da has business to attend to."

3/01