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well. Come." Navir pulled him behind him alternately telling to hurry and be silent.
    Estes looked back to the silhouette of the castle; smoke rising lazily from the walls.
    "Good-bye, my father. There is so much unsaid. Guide my steps."
    "Shh," said Navir. "He is beyond hearing now."

Chapter 3
     
    The sun shone brightly and the children played in the fields north of the bloodshed on the battlefield near the castle. Their shouts had not reached the ears of the knights and they played long in the sunshine under the watchful eye of the Border Guard. Seven Tuors, armed with swords and bows, concealed themselves in the shadows of the forest; their eyes alert for danger. They had not anticipated bringing their charges into an area filled with the sounds of war, and did not allow them further travel than the field before them. They expected to be reprimanded for allowing the children beyond the borders of Paglo but the journey had been planned for months and was an annual event for the young Tuors. The children complained when told they could advance no further until their play started and now were content. The lush meadow called to them; full of color and life and the children reveled in it. Tomen, the leader of the Border Guard, had journeyed closer to the battle site, the castle of Stormridge, to gather information to take back to his king. The smell came quickly, very strong to his keen senses.
    It had been a bloody battle, bodies of men lay on the matted grass, and the crows busied themselves among the fallen. Baron Treteste had attacked King Yeates and laid siege to the castle at Stormridge. The children of the Tuors did not pay much attention to the din of the metal, swords upon shields, armor against armor. The sound was not part of their life. The Tuors were a race of Men of small statue, much as Pukei or hobbits of fairy tales, but their features were very fine and their limbs slender and lithe. Their home they called Paglo, and the land deeded to them generations before by King Yeates' great-great-grandfather. Here, they lived in peace; undisturbed by the activities of the larger humans who had little need of their land, gnarled with trees, caves and creeks, cris- crossing the countryside. Although the land was not of use to the Kingdoms of Men, it was perfect for the Tuors and they guarded it zealously.
    The Border Guard escorted the children back to the trail that led over the mountain back to Paglo. The berries had been collected, not a great harvest, but Tomen did not want to wait any longer. The King had been very explicit in his instructions to the Border Guard.
     
    The king of the Tuors was Ian, a stubborn but wise Tuor, more handsome than most. His hair was long and brown, tucked back behind his ears. He had been king for ten years and those years had been peaceful. The Tuors had few natural enemies besides the mountain trolls, but now the war of Men was too close, and King Yeates of Calendia had not prepared for the Baron's treachery. King Ian worried. Baron Treteste did not always behave rationally and the mountains were not a boundary against an army, not really. He had no army, only the Border Guard, but Tuors could not stand up to men in battle. He couldn't envision the strength necessary for him to make the decision to leave their homes behind to flee the violence. There was nothing in Paglo to interest Treteste, but rumors spoke of insanity. Tomen had seen Treteste once and told King Ian he feared the human's mood changes.
    Rumors flew wildly in the air; birds came to Ian and spoke of the wild world. King Yeates had in his possession the Faerion, a book of power, once belonging to the Daerlan. Many coveted the book, including Baron Treteste, the sorcerer Blackthorne, and King Yeates' own sorceress, Wynne, a beautiful young woman, flush with newborn magic, eager to learn, but unwary of the dangerous side to her arts. She would need to learn caution before she reached her potential. How the Daerlan lost