Events unfold quickly as I step into the circle of light. Two arrows speed through the clearing, spelling the end to Morann's acolytes. These now lie in a crumpled heap, to one side of their fallen master. They have no sooner hit the ground than Igraine's two hounds bound into the clearing, followed immediately by Igraine, herself. She carries her sword, but no bow! Where then did the shafts come from? I'll ponder that at a later time. I am temporarily blinded by the flare of light from Nevvyn's staff and form a burst of flame conjured my Igraine.

When my vision clears, I see that the woman from the Charms Shop at Tara has vanished. However, the warrior who was with her still stands where he was. I watch as he twirls the great axe in his hand. The light from Nevvyn's staff throws sparks from the blade. Slowly, recognition begins to dawn on me. I have seen that axe before. It was in the hands of the dog who slew Dobhar. My eyes slide from the glittering weapon to the face. Yes! I see him there, the one called Hadaig. The hair is different, as are the clothes. Well-trimmed and slightly cleaner than my last view of him.

My heart hammers in my chest, pumping strength into my limbs. Three paces puts the rest of our little company behind me. I stop with the length of a spear between myself and Hadaig. In a low voice I rumble, "You are the one who murdered my friend. Struck him down in a moment of weakness, when he could hardly defend himself." The twirling of the axe stops. "You call yourself a man, but I say you are a dog and less than a dog." The grin fades from his face and a fire flares in his eyes. "I have sworn a blood-oath to extract vengeance for the murder of our War Chief. Prepare to die!"

We both drop into fighting stance and begin to circle one another. From the corner of my eye, I see Igraine start to weave some sort of spell. Nevvyn puts a quick stop to whatever she was planning. This is to be a battle between the two of us. A battle of honor, if there is such a thing as honor among thieves. I do not attack, allowing him the "honor" of the first charge. We circle as he looks for an opening past my shield and hammer. In the woods, I hear battle raging. The Niafer war-band has engaged the enemy, whoever they might be. I put this out of my mind as we circle in a slow dance of death.