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speechless, wondering if they heard Airos correctly.
    Marsk reacted first.
    “Sir…a Banthra?” he asked. “I have only heard of the legends. I thought the Banthras disappeared with Malbeck during the last Great War.”
    “So we all thought. It seems that the Banthras are back, but we are not sure why. Over the last five years there have been signs of a blackness rising up again throughout Kraawn. There have been mysterious disappearances, animals migrating and leaving the forests, vile monsters crawling from their caves and killing ruthlessly.   I have felt it, and even fought it in some cases. The land is being poisoned again by this vileness. This Banthra is yet another sign that evil is stirring again”.
    Gorum the baker stood up from his bench to address Airos. “Sir, my name is Gorum. Why would a Banthra and an army of boargs be heading to our small town? It makes no sense.”
    Airos looked at the baker for a few seconds before answering.   Gorum looked around, uncertain of the cavalier’s stare. Finally Airos smiled and responded. “Ah, good baker, that is a fine question and one for which I have no answer, for I know not why this force threatens your town.” Airos paused and looked at the nervous gathering before him. “My guess is that the Banthra is amassing a small army of boargs and that they are moving through the mountain passes to get to the east.”
    Braal, the only man in Manson who had fought a boarg, stood up. He was thick and powerfully built, his tan face reflecting many years of trapping the harsh lands that surrounded their small town. “Sir, the mountain passes are miles from here. They could just move through them unnoticed. Why go out of their way to come to our town?” Braal asked.
    Airos looked at Braal with his intense blue eyes. “You are Braal,” Airos said knowingly.
    “Yes, sir, I am.”
    “You of all people can answer that question. That day, many years ago, when you found the body of your brother? Why did the boarg attack you and your brother when you arrived at the corpse?”
    “How do you know about that day?” Braal asked uneasily.
    “I know about many things. Tell me.”
    Braal looked at his fellow townspeople. “The boarg was protecting its kill. It was feeding,” he said softly, not wanting to bring up the painful memory of that horrible day many years ago.
    “That is correct. I believe the Banthra is moving his force to this town so he can feed his army before moving east. You are faced with a dire threat, good people. Your options are few and only the strongest of you can make it through the mountain passes. That means you cannot run.”
    Jonas’s mother spoke up for the first time.
    “What are we to do, sir?” Lorna asked with concern, her hand gripping Jonas’s in fear.
    Airos looked at her, his eyes ablaze with fire, and said two frightening words. “We fight!”
     

Two 
Manson Fights
     
    The town bustled with activity; men strengthened the walls, women and children gathered food stores. Kiltharin, the blacksmith, sharpened axes, swords, scythes and any other tools that could be used as a weapon. Families living on the outskirts of town moved loved ones into the interior. Some built makeshift sleeping barracks in the town’s grange, while still others stayed with friends in their cramped little homes.
    Gorum offered his small home to Jonas and his mother. Jonas noticed a few stares as they slowly carried their meager belongings into Gorum’s home, but not like before. It seemed to Jonas that Airos’s words had affected the townspeople’s feelings toward him and his mother. Everyone was too scared and busy to worry about a cripple and his mother anyway. They just wanted to survive.
    The little home was cozy, clean, and smelled of baked bread. Gorum’s bakery was connected to the house through a door in the back. His massive clay and stone oven, built by his father who passed all his skills to Gorum many years ago, took up most of the work shop.