Frank O. Dodge 4697 Words 11056 Airline Highway/30 Gonzales, LA 70737 email: fdodge@eatel.net THE SHE-WOLF OF KAY-LOR Many great events have small beginnings. So it was with the war that changed the balance of power in the land of Kay-lor on the planet Szabo, three star-systems from the home planet, Earth, and raised the peasant girl, Amandra, to the throne. # The mere loss of a hand. # The original discoverers and settlers of the small planet so near like home named it Szabo after their Captain. For many generations, the settlements maintained a high degree of technology. Then a solar flare reaching almost nova proportions burned out all the electric and electronic stations, destroyed most of the population, and reduced the survivors to a medieval culture. As on Earth, the strongest and most ruthless rose to positions of power and enslaved the weaker in feudal thralldom. # And, as on Earth, there were those who fought against the tyranny. # The soft but solid thuds of andrax hooves brought the peasants out of their hovels to cringe in fear as Kan-dura, the Kaliban of the shire, reined his two-legged mount to a prancing halt. The men-at-arms of his entourage rode through the miserable village, thrusting their lances through the wattled walls to drive any hiders into the open. All they harried was a horde of six-legged ka-rats that ran squealing in all directions. The Kaliban removed his helmet, and viewed the gathered villagers. He pointed out five comely young girls to his Captain. "Those will do nicely. Bring them." The mother of one of the girls uttered a sobbing cry, and grasped the Kaliban's stirrup. "Mercy, my Lord. The chick is all I have." The mounted man stared down coldly. "You dare touch me, crone?" His sword flashed, and the grieving woman's hand, severed at the wrist, flew through the air, leaving a misty trail of blood, to fall at the feet of a stocky young woman. Amandra the Solarian, called the She-Wolf by the members of her late husband's band of mountain rebels, was not of the village. Her husband, Ganson the Warrior, called the Wolf by the members of his troop, had been killed during a raid on a royal arms depot. Amandra had come only the day before to inform the Wolf's sister of his death. There were no wolves, as such, on Szabo, but a fierce six-legged mountain carnivore, bearing a vague resembance to a terran wolf, had been so dubbed by the early settlers. The Warrior's woman reacted instinctively to her training. Uttering a scream of fury, she grabbed the tyrant's leg, and pulled him from his mount. The heavily armored man slammed to earth with a bone-jarring crash.. For a split second, both villagers and men-at-arms stared, unable to believe their eyes, then with cries of rage, the thralls swarmed over the mounted warriors, yanking them from their two-legged steeds. Helmets were snatched off, and skulls crushed with rocks. Knives flashed, and drove through chinks in armor. Catching up the dazed Kaliban's fallen sword, the She-Wolf struck off his head. The furious melee was over in a matter of moments. The villagers, stunned by their victory, stared, gasping and panting, at one another. Amandra went to where two women were stanching the blood from a handless arm. She bent and touched the grieved mother's brow. "That fatherless dog will harm no other." She rose, and looked at the serfs who were all staring at her for a sign. Wolfrin, the village headman, lifted the hayfork with which he had dispatched two of the oppressors, and raised his voice in a shout, "Amandra!" The others echoed his tribute. "Amandra! Amandra!" Wolfrin laughed exultantly. "They died so easily! Why have we always thought that they were unkillable?" He spurned the headless body of the Kaliban with his foot. "Thanks to you we are free of this monster." The girl's face hardened. "Free? You fools! When these bastards fail to return to the castle by sunfall, a search will begin on the morrow. When they see what was done here, Prince Kalidor won't stop until every one of us has been caught and punished. You've been to the capital and seen the executions in the square before the castle. Eyes gouged. Tongues cut out. Limbs lopped off. And for minor offences. Mogdrath, the Governor, will have us all flayed alive and impaled on the battlements to please the Prince, and as warning to any who dare raise arms against the nobles. Free?" She laughed shortly. The women raised a keening wail of despair, and the men stared at her. Wolfrin looked at the bloody sword in her hand. "What are we to do?" "You're looking to me?" The village headman stepped closer. "You followed Ganson into battle. You are the only one trained in warfare. Tell us what to do." The girl wiped the sword, and thrust it through her girdle. "To stay here is to be tortured and slaughtered. Your only hope is to flee to the mountains." "Will you lead us?" Amandra eyed the frightened thralls. "I got you into this by my action. I guess I am responsible for you. All right." She turned to the women. "Cease your wailing. You have to be strong. Get every bite of food in the dorp, then go into the fields and reap every ear of corn you can in two hours time. It is noon. We must be away well before darkfall." To the men, "Round up the riding beasts. Gather up the weapons and armor. It gets cold in the high passes. Find every robe, fur, blanket in the village. Load the animals. We take only arms, food, warm clothing, and cookpots. Leave everything else behind. Everything. Be ready to move out when the women bring the corn." Wolfrin touched her arm. "Do we have a chance?" Amandra's face was grim. "About the chance of a snowflake in a cookfire." At the headman's look of despair, she clapped him on the shoulder. "Brace up, man. The high passes are full of snow flurries. Mayhap we can lose our flake among them. I know the notches. My husband taught me well. Aye, Wolfrin, a chance. Slim, but a chance." "Will we be joining Ganson's rebels?" "No, my friend. The troop was was all but destroyed, and swept to the winds in the raid in which my husband was killed. No, Wolfrin, we are on our own. But keep heart. There are cols that can be defended by few against many." She watched the women returning with bulging sacks of corn. "Load up. We move out now." The She-Wolf picked up Kan-dura's head by its long hair. "We'll leave a message for those who follow." Thrusting a spear into the ground, she topped it with the Kaliban's slack-jawed head. "This will tell them that we are not to be taken without heavy losses to themselves." At the foot of the first steep trail, Amandra ordered the andraxes unloaded and turned loose. "The beasts are more of a hinderance than a help in the high notches. From now, we live and fight on foot." # The cold wind soughed eerily at the mouth of the cave to which Amandra had led them. Wolfrin added more wood to the fire, and the villagers huddled close for warmth. The She-Wolf studied her charges. At first glance, not much from which to hope to build a fighting force. But the craven hoplessness that showed in the eyes of the peasants of Szabo was missing from the eyes of these. The knowledge that the nobles and their cohorts were not invincible had given them a new way of thinking. The girl's lips thinned in a tight smile. The snowflake might have a chance. That Prince Kalidor would hound them was a certainty. He had to. Word of what had happened would spread rapidly throughout Kay-lor. To allow the perpetrators to go unpunished, very painfully and very publically, could lead to more uprisings ... to say nothing of the blow to his pride. She explained this to the huddled thralls. "The high passes hold many hiding places, but if you only run and hide, eventually you will be cornered, and taken to Kaladrith for public execution. You must make our pursuers know that their pursuit will cost them heavily. That will make them wary and cautious." She smiled grimly. "Wariness and caution can be a fatal mistake. It can give us time to lay traps and ambushes. Stifle your own fear and learn to instill that fear in the hearts of those who follow us. To do so, you must learn to fight as Ganson fought. Lay ambushes. Quick hit-and-run assaults. If you are to live, you must learn to kill quickly, and as mercilessly as they do, only better. The battle that killed Ganson and destroyed the band was a trap. We were betrayed by one of our own." A sturdy boy of twelve stood up and raised a clenched fist. "The woman whose hand the vile Kaliban severed is the sister of my dead father. My aunt has no one but me to avenge her. I will learn to kill as you say." Amandra studied the boy's hard face, the hate that burned there. She gripped the lad by the shoulder. "Aye, Alsop, so you shall. But at present, I have a more important post for you. We need eyes to warn us of coming danger. Scouts who can be depended upon to be always alert. Who can blend into the snow without being discovered. Who can keep track of the enemy, and send word in time for the band to move to safety, or if the enemy are few in number, to attack and destroy. Are you the one I need?" The boy's hard face tightened. "Aye, my Lady." He clapped his clenched fist to his chest. "You can depend on me." "The job will be ardurous, and the responsibility great. You will have to stay alert for long sleepless hours, and endure the cold. You know your comrades. Choose from among them those you know to be of your own determination. I shall rely on your judgement. Bring them to me, and I'll give you your orders." Wolfrin raised a hand in protest. "Dare you risk us all on a mere lad?" The She-Wolf scanned the boy's face. "On this boy? Aye, Wolfrin. Look into his eyes. He has too much hate in him to fail." Amandra examined the four boys Alsop brought. Their eyes all held the same suppressed hatred. "Good. Has Alsop told you the hardships you will be called on to endure?" "Aye, my Lady." "Remember. You are our eyes only. Don't attempt any reprisals. You are to remain invisible, and guard our rear. Choose from among the garments the white furs of snow ka-bears that will blend with the snow. The safety of all depends on you five. Do you understand?" "Aye." "Very well. Alsop, take your scouts down our backtrail. Choose your cover well." The boy raised a hand in salute. "Aye, my Lady. You can rely on us." He signaled, and led his squad at a rapid lope down the defile. Amandra looked at the raw material huddled about the fire. "Now. Everyone big enough to handle a weapon will learn to do so. That includes the younger women as well. The older women will mind the children, the rest of you will fight beside your men, as I fought beside Ganson. Training will start at sunrise. Rest well, you'll need much strength. You will learn to hate me before you become warriors." # The next three months were spent teaching the novices how many ways there are to kill a man, and perfecting them in the art of doing so. The women were pressed as hard as the men. Also, her faith in the boy, Alsop, had been justified. Not once did the scouts fail to warn her of approaching danger well in time for the band to vanish into the many cols and notches of the high passes. On one occasion, she had the opportunity to blood her band in actual combat. Alsop reported a small detachment of Royal troops on their trail. Amandra squeezed the boy's shoulder. "How many?" "Twenty-five." "Situation." Alsop grinned. "Sloppy. They're encamped at the foot of the ravine. No outposts. The fools are well within arrow-shot of nearest cover." His grin widened. "They're very careless about keeping their weapons close to hand. Most have removed their armor." The She-Wolf clapped the boy on the back, and uttered a fierce laugh. "Fools, indeed. In their mind-set, they can't believe we pose any danger. They still think they are seeking a shivering group of frightened churls. Again, our greatest weapon is that belief." She smiled grimly. "I doubt that it will remain so after the Royals lose enough troops, but it will serve us well this day." She looked around at the set faces of the band. "Todd. You are the best I have ever seen with the bow. Take Centola with you. You've trained him well. Go with Alsop. He will show you points of vantage. At the signal, the hunting scream of a four-winged falcon, pick off the ones who have removed their armor. Nock and loose at your best speed consistant with accuracy." She pointed to Wolfrin. "Take your squad to the east. You, Pendly, yours to the south. Trent, to the west. I shall hit from the north." Her lips twisted in a fighting snarl. "At the falcon's scream, attack. This will be your first real battle. Let your hate give strength to your arms." # The She-Wolf wiped the blood from her sword, and sheathed it. Her eyes swept the field of battle ... if such it could be called. Annihilation was more the word. Obliteration. Extinction. The action had lasted less than the number of minutes on the fingers of one hand. Todd and his apprentice archer, Centola, had nocked, drawn, and loosed with surprising speed and accuracy. The Royals' contempt for their prey had made the archery a practice shoot. Before the panicked soldiers could even comprehend that they were under attack, Amandra's fighters had hit them from all sides. The women of the band fought with even more ferocity than the men. The memories of the degradation of the frequent round-up of young girls by Kan-dura the Kaliban for his sexual pleasure burned in their minds. Many of those girls now found themselves with weapons in hand, and those memories fueled the fury with which they reaped their veangence. The She-Wolf grunted with satisfaction. "Well done. It is evident that the warning we left at the village went unlearned. The message we give this time will be unmistakable." As the band mounted the steep ravine, behind them smoked a fire of tents and decapitated bodies. Twenty-five heads, impaled on spears, stood guard over the scene of carnage. # Amandra stood by the fire and addressed the band. "Our victory today showed you that you can defeat the Royals ... but ... we had three major advantages working for us. The greatest of these was the contempt they they held for us. In their minds we were nothing but a miserable herd of cowering slaves. That made them them careless. Two, the element of surprise. Three, we outnumbered them." Her face was grim. "Today we lost the advantage of contempt. From now on the enemy will button up against us as a worthy foe. You won't find any more of them laying aside their armor and weapons. You will not find any more encampments without alert sentries. You will be facing troopers who are better trained than you ..." She laughed, and pointed to the pile of captured weapons. "... but not better armed." Amandra's face tightened. "From now, your training will be stepped up to the point that you will want to kill me, but you will be able to face the Royals on their own level. We will not be likely to find many times when we outnumber the enemy, so surprise is still our best advantage. Ganson the Wolf was a master at three guerilla tactics that utilize that advantage ... ambush, booby-traps, and quick strike-quick-withdrawal attacks that harrass the enemy flanks and rear, keeping them constantly on the alert, and draining their strength. These attacks cause them to pursue us. We never engage without a clear and free line of retreat that will draw the enemy into territory we know and can control. That's where booby traps and ambushes come in. We dig pits along our line of retreat, camouflage them with branches and weeds, and plant sharpened stakes at the bottom. Tree limbs can be pulled back, and secured. Swords lashed to them, and trip-ropes to spring the trap. Ambushes that take a toll with not more than three flights of arrows, then fade into the snow before a counter attack can be mounted. Wear down the pursueing force until we do outnumber them, then take no prisoners." Bisnov, one of Alsop's scouts, entered the cave. "My Lady." "Report." "We have captured a man coming up the draw. A warrior, by the looks of him. Alsop and Moyer are bringing him to you. Gray and Fuller remain on watch." A few minutes later the scouts brought in their prisoner. The man's head and shoulders were shrouded in a cloak as blindfold. Amandra looked him over. "Who are you, fellow?" The blindfolded prisoner uttered an exultant laugh. "I know that voice. The right hand of Ganson the Wolf!" "Fontaine!" "Aye, Fontaine." "Unbind him." Fontaine rubbed his wrists. He looked at the three boys. "I congratulate you on your outposts. I was overwhelmed before I could draw. The lads could have been trained by the Wolf, himself." Amandra eyed her old companion. "How did you find us?" Fontaine laughed. "The fray at the village of the Wolf's sister told me that you had survived the massacre at Dulhaven. I knew it had to be you who led the villagers to the safety of the mountains. I have been combing the cols for the past three months, checking all the old strongholds and lairs we used. I have found seven survivors of the old troop, and they are also searching for you." He glanced at the hard faces around him. "These are no cringing thralls. You have molded them into a fighting force." His voice tightened. "We can again make ourselves felt by the nobles." "Can you contact the others?" "Aye. We are to meet at the Crown Notch ten days from now." "Good. Are you all loyal to me? Do you accept my leadership in Ganson's stead?" The warrior dropped to one knee, and taking Amandra's hand, rested his forehead against its back. "Upon Ganson's death, you inherited the troop, my Lady Wolf. You were his stout right arm. You have only to command.." "Good. Now we have a cadre of seasoned warriors to fashion my amateurs into a force to be reckoned with!" She turned to the waiting group. "Fontaine the Katurian will be my lieutenant." She grinned. "If you think I'm a hard driver, prepare yourselves." To Fontaine, she said, "Teach these. They are eager, and able. They need only to be honed. By thunder, with enough like these we could build an army! Do with them what you can until you meet with the others." # Over the next week, Alsop's scouts brought in two score villagers wandering the slots and ravines. The word had spread of the massacred Royals, and many, men and women alike, had taken to the hills in search of the warrior woman known as the She-Wolf. Amandra met each group with the same speech. "There are spies among you, the Prince would be a fool not to use you to locate us. You will all be put to the hot knife test." She lifted a red-hot blade from the fire, and passed it over her tongue. "Those of you who are true, will not be harmed. Lies and deceit dry the mouth, and those will have their tongues scorched from their heads." Several spies were caught, and executed. The rest were assigned to Fontaine for training. At the end of the week, the warrior left to meet with the remaining members of the Wolf's band. Amandra called Alsop to her. "Take Todd, and follow him. As long as he goes up into the high passes, remain invisible, but if he heads down toward the villages, kill him. I still do not know which of the troop betrayed us at Dulhaven." Two days later, Alsop reported. "My Lady. The warrior went straight to the Crown Notch. There he met with five others. They await the arrival of the other two." "Were you seen?" The boy grinned. "Why did you choose me to be your eyes? Todd and I were just two snowflakes in a flurry. No, Lady, we were not seen." # The She-Wolf greeted her old companions warmly. One at a time, each knelt and swore allegience. One grizzled axeman lifted his weapon. "My Lady Wolf, I ran our betrayer to earth." Amandra's face hardened. "Where is the traitor?" "Dead." "Tell me." "Do you remember the blond mate to Byrne the Crygian?" "Aye. Lucinda." "Aye that one. She fell in love with a Royal man-at-arms, and to curry his favor, sold us at Dulhaven. She allowed herself to be captured with eight of our comrades. Her treachery bought her little. The man cut her throat along with the others." "How did you learn this?" "Drinking in a tavern with Sanders and Terry in the Capital. We overheard the bastard laughing about it. He named her, and bragged that she was prime pussy before his blade caressed her throat." Amandra looked at the man. "Will you take the knife test? I must be sure." The warrior dropped to one knee. "Willingly, my lady Wolf." The red hot blade sizzled as it passed over his tongue, and Amandra lifted him to his feet. "My apologies, comrade." "The necessity is understood, my Lady." # The Band of the Wolf increased its numbers daily as more and more peasants made their way to the mountains. They became known to the royals as "Wolfen." The warriors of Ganson's old troop honed the thralls into fairly good fighters. Amandra began sending raiding parties against small royal outposts. Their tactics of hit-and-run, lure-and-trap, won them many bloody victories with small losses. The mountain rebels grew into an army. Amandra called a council of war. "Our size is becoming unwieldly. You of Ganson's old troop are qualified to command forces of your own. We will split up into nine divisions. I will command here at headquarters, each of you choose one of our old defendable cols, fortify, and maintain contact through a system of mountaintop relay sentinels." The troops of Prince Kalidor made many assaults against the mountain rebels, but being untrained in the kind of warfare they met, were repulsed with heavy losses. They began to avoid confrontations, and suffered many desertions. Meanwhile the army of the She-Wolf continued to grow. Amandra called a council of war. Facing her captains, she laughed. "At least we don't have to worry about spies any more. The Royals know where we are, and any spies could only report our strength." She looked at the circle of faces. "The time has come for us to take the offensive." She unrolled a map, and the warrior captains gathered around. "Our own spies have reported weaknesses here ... here ... and here." She indicated a number of outposts. "Beginning with the start of the heavy snows, in which we know how to fight and they don't, coordinated attacks will be made at these points." Fontaine raised a hand. "Now we have to worry about spies carrying our plans to the enemy." Amandra smiled. "That has been covered. Every descent to the lowlands has already been guarded." She handed a parchment scroll to each captain. "Here are detailed reports of the enemy strength at each point of attack. Study them well." # Alsop, now eighteen, had been promoted from scout leader to chief of the She-Wolf's intelligence system. He saluted. "My Lady. I received some strange rumors from my men in Kaladrith. So strange that I went there to confirm them for myself." "Report" "My agents in Kaladrith are ragged street urchins. No one pays them any attention, and they are free to roam where they will. It is known that Prince Kalidor has been seen in public in the past fifteen years only on state occasions, and private audiences are confined to the barons and other high officials." "Yes ... yes, I know all that. Get to your rumors." "Patience, my Lady. This background is necessary. In the first five years of his reign, the Prince was as righteous a ruler as his father before him. Then, of a sudden, he began to issue the decres that gave the unlimited power and license to the nobles, and the laws that made slaves of the people." "This is old history, Alsop." "Aye, my Lady. This is where the rumors begin. It is said that Prince Kalidor, and his mother, Princess Doria, have been held prisoner in the castle dungeons. That Shadrith, the advisor to the old Prince, conspired with the nobles, promising them unlimited power. That Kalidor was forced to issue the proclamations, or his mother would be flayed alive. That the Prince was once forced to watch as his mother was subjected to the rack as proof that Shadrith would carry out his vile threat. "Have you turned up any proof of this?" "Nothing positive, Lady, but one old beggar is said to have overheard a drunken guard describing the beauty of a noble lady held in the keep under threat of torture, and the picture he painted was of the Princess Doria. The old man knew the Princess well by sight, his begging post being against the wall opposite the castle gate, although he had not seen her leave the keep in years." The She-Wolf looked thoughtful. "That would explain a lot. I recall the first years of Kalidor's reign. There was peace and prosperity, and the people were treated like men." She paced. "Can this be true?" She faced her Chief of Espionage. "Bring me proof." Alsop saluted. "It shall be done, Lady." He pulled at one ear. "I'll have to get an agent in the dungeons." Amandra looked at him. "That could be suicide." "Aye, but I have a boy in mind. His mother and ten year old sister were brutally raped and killed by castle guards. Wasilchuck lives only to avenge them." Alsop's face was grim. "He will welcome the assignment." "Can you trust him to bridle his hate?" "Lady, if you remember, that was the first lesson I had to learn, and is the first thing I teach my men." "How can you get him in?" Alsop grinned. "I told you my men in Kaladrith are street arabs and sewer ka-rats. They are familiar with the the maze of underground drainage tunnels that cover the city. Wasilchuck will have no difficulty getting into the dungeons. His danger will be in evading the guards." The spy chief's face showed pride in his men. "Wasilchuck has a knack for disappearing when the City Guard patrols are around. Give me a week." # Five days later Alsop stood before his Commander-in-Chief. He urged a fourteen year old ragamuffin forward. The boy was dirty-faced, and clad in filthy rags covered by a goatskin cloak. "This is Wasilchuck, head of my spies in the Capital." The boy was obviously ill at ease, and somewhat awed to be in the presence of the She-Wolf. Alsop squeezed the lad's shoulder. "Relax. You have served our Lady well. Report." The boy straightened. "It is true, my Lady Wolf ... the rumors of His highness and his mother. They are being held in separate cells, and though fairly well treated, Her Highness lives under the daily threat of torture unless the Prince does as Shadrith dictates. Early in their imprisonment, Shadrith did threaten to skin the Princess alive unless His Highness complied. The Prince was forced to watch his mother undergo agony that nearly crippled her as proof that the vile ursurper would carry out his threat. I managed a few words with His Highness. His spirits were greatly raised at my news of the revolt. I assured him that a way would be found to free him and his Lady mother." Amandra paced. She held no doubt as to the accuracy of the boy's report. Alsop's agents were hand-picked, and well trained. "Well done. This puts a new face on the coin. Can you lead troops through your sewers?" The ragged urchin shook his head. "Not from the city's edge. The tunnels are much too narrow in spots for armed men. But, Lady, my mates and I are ka-rats. We can slither through the dungeons like shadows." His face tightened, and he gripped the hilt of the dagger at his waist. "Our teeth are sharp. We can overcome and despatch the few guards, free their Highnesses, and lead them through a hundred different outlets, and back alleys, to deliver them into your hands." Wasilchuck half drew his poinard, and slammed it back into its sheath. "Two of the whorson guards are the ones who raped and killed my mother and sister. My Lady, I crave your permission to lead the rescue team." Amandra looked into the boy's eyes, and nodded. "At what point will you exit the city?" Alsop answered for him. "Between the fourth and fifth gates. We have dug a tunnel from the sewers that goes under the wall and to a camouflaged exit in a dense grove a quarter league from the city. It allows us to come and go as we wish." "How much time do you need?" Wasilchuck bared his teeth in a fighting snarl. "Give me two days to get back to Kaladrith, and we will present you to their Highnesses on the third night." # At midnight of the third day Amandra waited with Alsop and a picked squad in the dense copse some eight hundred meters from the city wall. As Wasilchuck had promised, the bushes concealing the mouth of the secret tunnel rustled, and His Highness, Prince Kalidor emerged, followed by his mother, and five of Alsop's ragged .agents. The Prince started to give thanks for their release, but Amandra, dropping to one knee, cut him short. "Forgive me, my Liege, but we must be away quickly. The guards have by now discovered your absence, and the hue and cry is probably already raised. We must be back in the fastnesses before you will be really safe." His Highness turned to the five raggamuffins. "My eternal gratitude. When Shadrith is overthrown, you shall all find my gratitude to be more than words." # The women at headquarters vied for the positions of Ladies in Waiting to the gracious Princess Mother. The She-Wolf called a council of war. One by one, the eight Division Commanders knelt before the Prince, and swore their fidelity. When His Highness learned the size of the rebel forces, and the inroads they had made on the usurper's troops, he laughed exultantly. Turning to Amandra, he exuberantly hugged her. At the contact, an unexpected spark passed between them. Kalidor stepped back, and for a moment the Prince and the She-Wolf stared at one another, then he cleared his throat. "With your permission, my Lady Wolf, I may be able to contribute something to the revolt. In my years of imprisonment, I learned much about the nobles who conspired against me. I know many of their weak points that should enable your troops to score heavily with few losses." Over the next several months, the Wolfen destroyed one Baron after another until Shadrith sued for peace, and over those months, the spark between Amandra and Kalidor grew into a flame. Sword in hand, they fought side by side, and Kalidor found why his new love was called the She-Wolf. A terror in battle, she was tender in his arms. The Commanders and high officers were called together to witness a civil ceremony in which their leader was united in marriage with the Prince of the Realm. His Highness stood before the group. "Your courage and loyalty have returned peace to the land. We go now to Kaladrith to deal with the ursurper." Flanked by his bride on one side, and his mother on the other, Prince Kalidor sat on his rightful throne. The Commanders of his new army held Shadrith in chains. His Highness rested his chin on his fist, and looked down at the prisoner. "For the torture of my mother, I order your right hand be lopped off. For the torture of my people, the same for your left hand. For your other crimes, I order you banished from Ka-lor. Take him away." Kalidor held Amandra's hand, and looked at the leaders of the army who had restored his land. "Your Lady Wolf has a list. The lands and holdings of the false barons will be distributed among you. Keep your armies strong." His eyes searched. "Alsop, step forward." The Intelligence Chief approached, and knelt. His Highness drew his sword. "To the one most directly responsible for my freedom, my deepest gratitude." He tapped the young man on each shoulder. "Rise, Sir Alsop." # Many great events have small beginnings. So it was with the war that changed the balance of power in the land of Kay-lor on the planet Szabo, three star-systems from the home planet, Earth, and raised the peasant girl, Amandra, to the throne. # The mere loss of a hand. * * * * *