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How many times had he told the gardener to tear those down? He had lost count. She had repeatedly told the gardener that she did not wish to kill harmless plants. Harmless. I'll bet she'll be having second thoughts about that in a few minutes, he glowered to himself as he started to climb up the side of the building.

Many parts of the vine had been torn from holding all of the weight of the dwarf, and normally skinny Anchamlan found himself wishing, for once, that he could be a little bit lighter. He sighed and almost lost his footing. He heard a grunt up above and knew that the Dwarf had almost reached his destination. At the second grunt he started trying to make himself climb faster than possible on the skinny vines, and he suddenly found himself hanging wildly on a vine, feet dangling in the air. He cursed himself for not having brought his bow. This would all be so much easier, he started chastising himself and stopped suddenly when he heard a blood-curdling scream. So he has found his destination, he thought and swung himself back onto the wall, climbing faster than he had thought possible on the thick vines.

He suddenly found himself on the window ledge of The Tower. Glancing around he immediately saw his worst nightmare coming true before his eyes. Ladies-in-waiting in red pools of blood, and a few more trying to protect Lady Skansea till the end. He wondered faintly if they were doing this because they loved her or because they knew they would die anyway. He shook the question off of his mind. He had a silly habit of not being able to pay attention when it was needed. He knew there would be time enough to wonder about such things later. Especially if he didn't live.

Jumping lightly into the room he walked towards the Dwarf right as the filthy blood-matted creature finished off another lady-in-waiting.

"Seven down, four more to go," the Dwarf said, turning around and sending a moldy grin in Anchamlan's direction. "Or should I say five more now that I've got company." Anchamlan scowled at the beast and drew his sword.

"At least let me do what I came here to," he replied coldly, gathering up all of the hatred in his body for Dwarves and radiating it out into the Dwarf's direction. The Dwarf grinned his nasty grin again.

"I will let you try," he said and Anchamlan's eyes turned a deep red, almost as dark as the ladies-in-waiting's blood, but twice as scary. From behind the four remaining ladies he saw Lady Skansea's head peek out. Stay put, he told her, speaking to her with his mind, just bend down and stay put. He watched as her big black curls and pale skin disappeared again behind a flurry of pink dresses. The Dwarf grinned.

"Give her all of the messages you want," he rumbled in an almost bored fashion. "It isn't going to help her. She's going to King Keeoahn." Anchamlan glared at him. He treats me as though I am an ordinary soldier. True I am young, but 18 is two years over the coming-of-age period. And if any man had been through what I've been through and seen what I've seen I would call him a man as well.