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and two heads toppled to the ground followed by their bodies, which
crashed into the third from either side. Before he could recover, Rezkin ran
him through.
    As Striker Adona fell to his knees, he looked up into
Rezkin’s pale blue eyes. His voice was strangled and weak, but his words were
clear. “Long live the king.” His lips curled into an ironic smile and he
laughed, which was cut short when a bubble of blood slithered up his throat.
“May he forever dwell in this darkness he has unleashed.” Adona pitched forward
and breathed no more.
    Darkness? What darkness? And what has the king to do with
this?
    Rezkin spun around seeking and searching, high and low.
Something was wrong. One was missing. He had kept careful track of his
opponents at all times, but one had managed to disappear while he was battling
the others – Striker Farson. The striker was nowhere to be seen. Since
the striker had apparently run away, he doubted the man would come back to face
him in the open now that his comrades were dead. Rezkin just hoped that he was
not secreted away somewhere waiting to take a shot at him from afar.
    As Rezkin surveyed the courtyard, he noted that both of the
masters were also down. Master Jaiardun was obviously dead. He had been nearly
cut in half from shoulder to hip. Master Peider was lying not far from him. The
Master was struggling to breath and suffering from a fatal gut wound. Rezkin
rushed over and knelt beside him.
    Master Peider grabbed his arm in a firm grip on his wrist.
Rezkin continued to glance around as he kept in mind that Farson was still a
threat. Peider strained to deliver one last message.
    “You…are the only one…the only one, now, who knows of
you…except…” his words were garbled and clipped as Master Peider coughed up
blood. Rezkin could not understand what he said, but perhaps the old man knew
that Farson had survived. Peider’s grip on Rezkin tightened as if it was all he
could do to cling to life.
    “ Rule 2 …[cough, cough]… kill with [cough]… conscience .”
Master Peider’s head spun in a vortex of ever encroaching darkness as he tried
to remember what he had been saying. Yes, kill without conscience . He
continued, “ Rule [cough] 1 – Protect and [cough, wheeze] honor … your …”
his words were cut off by another round of coughing. King! Say it!, Peider thought to himself. His world spun, and suddenly Peider was surrounded
by people from long, long past. He was a young boy. Other boys were all around
him. He was laughing, and they were laughing with him. Benson and Teyry were
there. It had been so long. You are all here! He smiled, All of my… and
somewhere far, far away in the waking world he said, “ friends. ”
    Rezkin frowned as Peider released his last breath. Friends?
What are friends? It was not that he had never heard the word. Peider and
Jaiardun had taught him about many relationships between men. There were
partners, associates, allies, comrades, peers, lieges and vassals, to name a
few. A contract between and man and a woman was called marriage , which
resulted in the titles of Husband and Wife . All of these
relationships tended to be based on some written or oral contract of mutual
interest. A few, such as those pertaining to slaves and indentured servants,
were decidedly one-sided. Then, there were the familial relationships of blood
into which one had to be born – mothers, daughters, sisters, brothers,
fathers, sons, etc.
    He had heard the term friends applied – so-and-so was a friend of so-and-so , but he never understood what the word
meant or how one obtained such a status. He looked around once again. Everyone
he knew was dead, except for Farson, and Rezkin knew enough that he was certain
an enemy was not a friend . How could he have friends if he and
Farson were the only ones left who knew of him?
    Rezkin was more confused now than ever. Perhaps he truly was
not yet ready to be a full-grown big-man. He could not even understand what