Varr broke the silence first. “You saw him, then.

Our lord is yet alive. I had not dared

To think the question, lest I should answer.

But the Old Man lives yet. So lives our strength."

Shane muttered quietly “Not he alone."

And when they looked at him, the boxer said

“I have seen, since I woke midst yonder trees,

An Old Man as you both described, and more.

I have seen something that he will not name.

He called it Sulfur Carrier. Have you

Heard tidings of it too, Brother Blacksword?"

Klau rose to the challenge, “The Old Woman

Who prophesies is yet among the throng.

She told me you were coming. She told me

You would be vital, and must captains be.

Of Sulfur Carrier she would say nothing but

That it was coming too, so, Champion,

If you are Battle-Seer, as it seems,

And have dreamed of it, pray tell all you dreamed."

Shane blinked, befuddled, and said “I saw no

Battle. I saw a form, manlike, maybe

But of shadow and flame, and wreathed in smoke.

I tasted its sour diesel fuming stench.

And though it was but shadow in my mind

It very nearly killed me. How much more

Deadly will it be in the flesh? Is this

The blow you plan to strike? Is this the foe

You say your sword will flatten? I know not

What manner of demonic thing it was,

But even I could see it could take more

Than one sword, even one so great as yours."

Klau stood, and drew himself to his full height,

Though this brought him up only to Shane's chest,

Still seemed he to tower. “You think as those

Who live and live and will not die, who cling

To mortal life as if there were not life

In death and deeper death than this. My sword

Will slay the Sulfur Carrier. I know

Not how. I need not know. Why should I grasp

At hows and whys and what will matter not?

My edge will not grow sharper for them, nor

Will this Dark Manlike shadow lie more slain

When I its breast have pierced, its heart cut out,

Because I know a how." “Now hold!" Varr cried,

Smiting the table with his clanking fist,

“This is no summer afternoon, for games

Of manhood bragging! This is no beer hall

For drunken oafs to strip, and flex, and crow

At their own wine-inflated strengths!

This is war council! I grant, Champion

And blood-brother, this scheme does sound insane,

But what else have we? I grant, Berserker,

That what the Old Man promises will come

Will come, but we must strive with cunning to

Accomplish the foretelling into fact.

Now butt your heads no more! Let us call in

The council you spoke of, to lay our plans

And move on swiftly to deeds to be done."

Klau took his seat again, glared once at Shane,

And gestured toward the door, “E'en now, they come."

Just at the door, so silent suddenly

That 'Where did they come from?' was changed into

'How long have they stood there?' within Shane's mind,

Two men in witchfolk patchwork stepped out of

The outdoor darkness. One was tall and broad

And blank of expression, as if asleep

Like porcelain guard dogs. The other short

And stocky, full of sour looks, and in

His beard he scowled suspiciously around.

Yet so like were these two unlike in

Movement and wariness, that they seemed more

Identical than twins. Between them came

The Lady of the Witchfolk they had led,

Her Granddaughter upon her arm, and like

Their shadow, the Old Woman Shane had seen

In his dream, switching places in his mind

With the Old Man, like some humorless dance

Behind the walls of being, in and out.

“Hail, honored dead," the Lady said, serene

As opium eaters, “If you have plans,

Then let us see how well they fit with what

We shall know and shall do." The youngest said,

“Don't worry, Champion. I trust in you."

The Old Woman said nothing, until she

Swept past the wary guard and took the place

Furthest and opposite from Klau. She held

Shane in a sullen silent stare, as does

The sluggish alligator, caged, regard

The shouting children that peer in at it.

“We meet now for the second time, as I,"

She growled, “Foretold. We will meet but once more."

As Shane and Varr retook their seat, Klau said,

“Where is your king? I would not strategize

Without conferring with the general of

All but a score and seven. Where's King Roam?"

The lady helped the child onto a seat

From which her feet dangled, “King Roam knows not

That we are here yet. We have words to say

To you three that are not for him to hear.

He will come presently, then you may talk

Of plans and plots and possibility

But first hear of what was, is, and must be."

“If they will hearken. Few do," snapped the crone.

Shane leaned upon the table. “End your hints.

If you would say, then say, and on our heads,"

The boxer growled, “be worry whether we

Will hearken or ignore." The Lady's sphinx

Smile did not twitch as she pointed at Klau

And said, “You. Destiny will not help you.

It takes away your score and seven and

Leaves you alone with the fate you covet

But do not yet expect." She turned to Varr

Still smiling, “You. You will be left behind.

You will be Last to Flee, and when you flee,

You will have nowhere left to flee to." Then

She turned her masky smile to Shane, but when

A voice rang “You," it was not hers. The Old

Woman had risen to her feet. “Falconi. You

Have here a place you have not earned. Think you

That I know not the roles you seek to fill?

You cannot fill them. You were not foretold.

You cannot face the Sulfur Carrier.

You cannot pass back through death, you have not

Passed through it even once. Why do you dream

Of a world that is dead to you, and why

Do you still think on someone who you can

Not even name? Falconi, get you home.

This is no place for those not Champions."

All three warriors started to their feet, hands

Upon their weapons. The three women seemed

Not to notice, but calmly sat as if

At a picnic supper in their backyard.

Varr shouted “Thou shalt not speak so to him!"

Shane seconded “Not to any of us!"

Klau growled “Try not my temper, witches." but

For further fury there was no time. From

The door came a deep voice, but dry, that laughed

Behind each word, and froze behind each laugh

Saying, “I see that you are men, or ghosts

Of men after my own heart. Long have I

Longed to silence these meddlesome biddies."

As is a tree that stricken seems, and for

A mummifying cerement is wrapped

With miles of ivy, with envenomed vines,

With mosses scented like funeral oils,

But within yet is lithe, and quick, and green

For all that it does bend, so seemed the man

Leaning against the door. His trailing locks,

His beard and mustache long and whiskerlike,

The charm-bedecked, verdigris moulded chains

As patchwork and mismatched as were his clothes

Seemed all to stoop and strangle him, yet with

One reflex like unbending of his neck

The two mute bodyguards bowed and vanished

Into the night. Klau moved his fist away

Off his enraging pommel, and said, “Now,

Is come at last one who speaks riddles not.

We can say what must needs be said. Behold

King Roam of the Witchfolk!" The silence swelled

As without word or nod the Witch King turned

The nearest chair right-angled to itself

And at the table's foot reclined on two

Wood legs. Into a long clay pipe,

Carved with grotesqueries, bright with bluebells

Whose paint with years of use was cracked and chipped,

He stuffed oak leaves, and finally he said,

“Pray don't mind me. Go on. I'm sure you have

Some deadly, deathly matter to discuss.

You always do." Then from some sleight of hand

He pulled a match already lighted, and

Puffed out the sourly sweet of oak leaf smoke

Contentedly as if at a picnic.

Klau eyed him warily, then spoke again,

“Let each of us fit words to coming deeds.

We twenty-seven here will make our stand-“

“We wish you luck with that," the Witch King said

And said no more. Klau scowled, and Varr spoke up,

“What would you have us do? For this we died,

For this we live again, for this did we

Come to this world. If you some other plans

More subtle than a simple warrior shade

Could grapple with have doctored or distilled,

Say on, and see that we hesitate not."

Roam rolled his pipestem, chuckling, “I would not

Have any one of you do one whit less

Than as you would. The Sulfur Carrier

Carries its grudge against you, after all.

For me and mine it has only the hate

It has for everything. If we cannot

Survive its ire, we can outrun. If you

Are stubborn and unhesitating, we

Will have the time we need, and more besides."

Shane felt his hackles rising. “You do not

Intend to stand with us," his voice hollow

And waiting to be filled with rage. “You are

Perceptive," King Roam snorted, “I had feared

That I would have to say it three or four

Times over." Shane and Varr were on their feet,

The long bench clattering as it toppled,

Too angry now for weapons or for words,

So Klau spoke first, “This, after we have held

This place for your protection, after all

The brothers we have lost in guiding this

Or that fugitive rag-tag through the Soot,

After we have poured out our blood for you

And spent the strength that might have been stored up

For our glorious stand, in getting you

To where you can smirk in your treachery?"

“I should have known," Varr growled, “you would repay

Salvation with abandonment. But think!

If you would but stand with us, what great deeds

Could then accomplished be! I have enough

Cunning to know that with your power upon

Our courage, we would have an even chance,

Then would there be no need for you to flee."

The Old Woman spoke up. “We make no stands,"

She said sharply, “Forever is our way

To make a final haven in the grey

Of twilight of the ending of a world,

To gather there, to fly upon the paths

Where others, friend or foe, can follow not,

To leave lorn earth behind us forsaken,

To fade like mist, to scatter like brown leaves

When the last autumn nights are blown away, 

To vanish like a dream at rooster crow,

And never to look back." The Lady smiled,

“I told you we were not to be trusted."

Shane did not wait for more. The boxer turned

And stormed out from the torchlit hall, his fists

So tight his knuckles whitened. At his back

King Roam had lit his pipe again, while Klau

Was slumped back in the throne, as is a child

For the first time bereft past comforting.