Chapter 8.

  Terrol lay face down in dusty sands of the cult desert.
His injured ribs paid many a toll on his stamina, but he
had to keep on moving. The desert hounds were loose, and
were hungry for blood. He forced himself back to his
feet, and stammered on. 
  His mind was only slightly corrupt, just getting away
in time to miss the second half of the conversion. His
hopeful search for civilisation was ruined the moment he
layed eyes on Cult Mountain. What he found inside was far
from human.
  Terrol thought back over the past month as he hobbled
agonisingly along. He was once a man of the military, on
a journey in foreign lands from the Korutiania continent.
They had landed on the coast of far eastern Neekkent, in
the sea - food city of Orsa. ‘Be back here by sun rise.’
he remember the captain saying as he was dismissed for
the night. 
  A tavern brawl was his first big mistake. To add to
that, he was severally outnumbered. The young soldier
hopelessly lost the fight, bruised and battered, beyond
seeming recovery. 
  He awoke the day following the brawl with the sun
shining in his face, stripped of all his valuable
belongings. Reapproaching the shore, he found the force
had left without him. They had sailed off without him to
a destination somewhere on the far western coast of
Assarii, Neekkent. He would have to journey by foot
across county. With nothing of value left, this was his
only option.
  Reluctantly, he travelled the highway from Orsa to Duli
feeding of the wild life, and drinking from any lake that
came by. 
  Duli lead to Kro. It was at Kro that he made his next
biggest mistake. He took a short cut, forgetting about
the highways, instead, plunging deep into the desert. The
Cult desert drained him plenty, and water was scarce. A
giant mountain stood before him, with men moving back and
forth in droves. His life, that hung by a strand was
saved. But it only got worse. The first half of change
was inflicted, as he was recruited to the transformation
chambers of the fallen God, Thanatos. His reason, once
sensible, turned savage. But with what little sense he
had left, he picked the lock to his cell and escaped.
  His thoughts then drained away as his mind was brought
back to the present situation. Three of the hounds were
on his tail. Their luminous green eyes confirmed their
presence - like spirits, their eye’s were haunting, 
flickering on and off as they blinked. Terrol was
surrounded, but he was ready for them.
  As the first hound charged, the soldier bent down,
picking two hand fulls of dust from the desert floor. The 
dog like creature pounced, fangs bared, claws ready. In 
mid stride, Terrol thrust one hand full of dust into it’s 
bright green eyes, and at the same time, kicked it in the
head, knocking it unconscious. The same tactics, he used
on the second hound, knocking one of it’s giant teeth out
in the process. Retrieving the tooth, he plunged it into
the final hounds breast, killing him eventually, with a
great howl.
  Terrol spat in their faces as he ran the other two dogs
through with his sharp, curved piece of bone. He held the
tooth in one hand and clutched his injured ribs in the
other as he pressed on. 
  He felt his left hand throb. There was no injury, so
there was no justification for it to throb. It was then,
he realised that he bore the mark of the Revolution. It
was only half the mark, verifying his mind had only been
half contaminated.
  Terrol swore. The sole purpose of the mission was to
strike down on sight, any who bore the Revolution mark.
As he wore the half mark, his comrades would surely
attack on its perception. But the mountain had to be
uncovered to his leaders. It was, he found, the very
heart of the cult, and the very place their efforts
should have been focused.
  He still stammered on through the cold, cloudless
night. Another several day’s, untroubled, took him well
away from the desert into welcoming glass lands. Once he
knew that he was safe, he crawled to the shade of a
towering tree, and drifted off to sleep. 
*  *  *
  Terrol sprung to his defence, as a pair of hands
methodically tended to his wounds.
  ‘Settle down boy.’ an old man told him. He forced him
back down in the bed he was lying in. 
  Terrol found himself in a giant, cylindrical room made
of wood. The walls if this giant room were lined with
endless shelves of books, with a parapet circling the
circumference, beginning at two, colossal, marble
staircases. He was lying in the center of this room, with
a bizarre looking man staring over him. This man wore
loosely fitting cloths, and his white hair was pulled
back from his emotionless face. The man seemed dwarfed,
but Terrol felt a tower of wisdom.
  ‘You took a nasty shot to the ribs.’ he said.
  ‘Yes, I am aware of that.’ Terrol replied.
  ‘Now,’ the man went on. ‘I’ve already fed you, and your
back up to full strength - with the exception of your
ribs. I’ve rapped you up just for support.’
  ‘Thanks.’
  ‘There’s something you must know.’ the man informed his
patient. ‘Sometime later in the future, you will be going
on a journey. What ever happens, don’t be afraid. I will
meet you when you get there.’
  ‘Where exactly will I be going?’   
  ‘You’ll find out. Just go where ever your mind takes 
you. Eventually, you’ll end up where your expected. Hold
on to that tooth of yours. You may need it.’ Then he gave
him a flagon of water and a pouch full of coins.
  ‘Wait, who are you?’
  ‘You don’t need to know that just yet.’ he said as his 
image began to fade away. ‘Just follow your mind.’ Then 
he was gone.
*  *  *
  Terrol awoke, once again, under the same giant tree he
had slumped into before. His ribs felt much more at ease.
The pouch and the flagon of water he was given in his
dreams had been hooked onto his belt, and the wrapping
around his body felt warm and cosy. He gave the world a
great big yawn. 
  There was only one hour of sun left in the sky. A deep
orange hue signalled the closing of yet another tiresome
day. With a big stretch, he rose, then continued strongly
west at a quiet jog.
  It took him about another week to reach the highway
that joined Endo to Zoc. His water seemed like an endless
supply. No matter now many or how long he drank from it,
it would always be full - and cold, the next time round.
  He hitched a ride with a cloths merchant who was
travelling to Zoc on business once he had reached the
highway.
  ‘It’ll cost you.’ the merchant said in a business like
fashion.
  ‘I’m willing to pay.’ Terrol replied.
  ‘Five solid gold’s.’ 
  ‘Deal.’ 
  The merchant was a puggy man with beady eye’s. His
pirate like voice was annoying at times, but that was
just what Terrol had to put up with. Fashionable cloths
covered the merchants body, with a floppy hat covering
his hairy scalp. The one thing that was out of place,
though, was a roughly fashioned glove embracing his left
hand. It had been made from scrapes of left over
material.
  His stock reached ten wagons long, each full. Each was
joined to the one in front, with a half a dozen buffalo,
spurred on by the crack of a whip, at the front.
  ‘What’s the latest fashion?’ Terrol asked his
travelling partner.
  ‘This.’ he replied, tugging at his shirt. ‘The colours
in are a brown - red mixed with a leather black. The
women are wearing their hair up with dark purple
streaks.’ Something moved on the inside of his shirt. A
tiny little creature popped out. ‘What are you doing
there, Kolga?’ he asked his tiny pet mouse.’
  It’s little head lifted to the sky, sniffing the air.
Then it scurried speedily onto it’s owner’s shoulder.
  ‘He’s cute.’ Terrol adored. 
  ‘She.’
  ‘What?’
  ‘Kolga’s a she.’
  ‘How can you tell?’
  ‘Just trust me, it’s a she.’ 
  Little chores occupied Terrol’s time during his trip.
His main task was to look after the wagons. They took
turns watching the stock at nightfall. 
  They arrived in Zoc after another week and a bit of
travel. It was early morning, and it’s draw bridge was
still up. 
  ‘I suppose you’ll be leaving me here friend?’ Iikin,
the merchant, said, as he pulled up his train before the
moat. 
  ‘Actually I had other ideas.’
  ‘Oh?’
  ‘It has to do with your business.’
  ‘Really?’
  ‘Yes. I’ve seen the quantity of merchandise you need to
sell, and it looks that you’ve got a lot on your plate. I
was wonder if you needed a partner. It would take lots of
stress of your shoulders, and you’d be getting more
sleep.
  ‘How much are you willing to contribute to the
business? Do you want to own part of the business, or do
you just want to be employed?’
  ‘Just employed. I haven’t got anything else to do.’
  ‘Where were you from originally?’
  ‘I was from the Korutianian continent. I was with the
military, but I’ve gone away - with - out - leave,
without me even knowing it.’
  ‘So your no longer with the military?’
  ‘Probably not.’
  ‘Welcome aboard then.’ Iikin said with a hand shake.
‘Your first job shall be to walk along behind the train.
You should see how much stock I loose when I travel
through cities. I can’t get back their long enough to
capture all those thieves. Kill anyone you see trying to
steel from us.’
  ‘But, that would be murder.’
  ‘Yes, it would. But I’m your boss, and you do what your
told.’
  ‘What ever you say, boss.’
*  *  *
  An hour later, the huge draw bridge boomed down onto
the soil. All ready waiting travellers spilled over the
bridge and out into the country side, as did travellers
heading in. Terrol was posted behind the last of the
wagons being toed, armed with a largely jagged sword that
sparkled in the newly rising sun. 
  Houses lined the streets on both sides, each set back a
ways inside their property, to leave quite a large front
yard. They stood side by side against each other with
barely a foot between them. The cobblestone road was
arched in the middle, almost sitting Iikin’s stock wagons 
on their sides. 
  No one dared try steel from the very wagons Terrol was
protecting. In fact, they stepped well clear of the
train, looking on as if it were some kind of parade. The
train turned down a street, and then down another, until
they came to a bare patch of land between several stores. 
  ‘This is where we set up!’ Iikin yelled back to his new
partner from his seat at the front. The wagons had to be
manually moved, tediously, into their place by hand. Then
the buffalo were placed at the rear, behind all the
action.
  ‘Is that it?’ Terrol asked, moving the last wagon into
place.
  ‘Now for the unveiling.’ he replied. Untying a piece of
rope at the bottom, he lifted back a huge canvas piece of
material, opening up his products to the world. ‘You can
do the rest now boy.’ 
  A crowd built up slowly. Taking full advantage of the
show, Iikin immediately began his sale of the various
items he had to offer. 
  Terrol had been appointed guard. He stood to one side,
on a mound of dirt with his arms crossed, completely
still, his eyes patrolling back and forth over the crowd.
Kolga rested quietly inside his smock for safe keeping.
The little rodent didn’t favour crowds much, and would
often get herself into a lot of mischief.
  She suddenly appeared upon his shoulder, creeping about
his neck.
  ‘Hey,’ Terrol chuckled, ‘Don’t do that. It tickles.’
But she continued her misconduct, crawling over his face. 
Abruptly, he burst out laughing, no longer able to keep
it in. With joyous cries, the former soldier stumbled
back, landing on the ground with a thud.
*  *  *
  ‘Okay, what happened?’ Iikin asked at the end of the
first day, as he was slowly counting the profit. 
  ‘It was Kolga.’ Terrol replied. ‘She’s got a devilish
mind of her own.’
  ‘Your supposed to be stern and quick to anger. You
weren’t supposed to smile.
  ‘Tell Kolga that.’
  Iikin shock his head. ‘Here’s your share.’ Terrol’s
boss handed over a handful of coins. ‘I don’t care what
you do with it.’ He pilled the rest of the cash into a
large leather pouch, and hooked it onto his belt for safe
keeping. ‘I’m going to bed.’ He tossed his hat and glove
on a makeshift table.
  ‘Wait a minute.’ Terrol said, garbing his Iikin’s hand.
  ‘Get your hands off me.’ Iikin struggled, shoving his
accomplice away. 
  ‘You have the half mark of the Revolution.’ 
  ‘So what. My mind is perfectly fine.’
  ‘No it isn’t friend. I’m going through exactly the same 
things you are.’ He forced the back of his clenched fist
into Iikin’s face. 
  His eyes widened as he looked upon the same half mark
that had been burned into his own hand. Both were on the
left hand, and both were on the back of the palm.
  ‘You want to talk about it?’ Terrol offered.
  ‘There’s nothing to talk about.’
  ‘Good. I’ll talk and you’ll listen. The cult has bred a
new type of being that can hunt fugitives like us.’
  ‘So.’
  ‘So? So where in great danger. When these mark’s are
burned into our skin, it gives of a kind of odour that
only these special beings can smell. The beings are
called Charms. They’re monkey like creatures, except
their bigger and strong, more agile. You can tell them
apart from other monkeys by a third arm the protrudes
from it’s back. They have been brought up to chase the
smell to the ends of the earth. Their noses are ultra
sensitive, and they can smell traces of it’s scent up to
one thousand miles away.’
  ‘Aren’t you exaggerating a bit?’
  ‘I had a friend once who had broken away successfully
before anyone noticed. The cults new creations were
tested, and the next thing I knew, I was looking upon his
body with only little life left. He would have had to
have been at least a thousand miles away in the space of
a month.’
  ‘How long ago was this?’
  ‘Three months now.’
  ‘And how long have you been away from the mountain?’
  ‘Not long at all.’ Terrol answered. ‘But they must have
realised I was go by now.’
  ‘So those Charms would be following you at this very
moment.’
  ‘Positive. Unless they’re making adjustments. Not only
that, I’m sure the other cult bands would be looking out
for us.’
  ‘That’s easily fixed.’ Iikin waved his glove around.
  ‘But what about the Charms?’
  ‘We’ll have to come up with something later.’
  Terrol dropped onto a chair. ‘We need some place safe.
How long are we going to be here for?’
  ‘Another day, at least.’
  ‘We can’t be any longer than that. Where are we going
after that?’
  ‘West, to Xinio, to sell and to pick up some more
stock. Then north into Assarii.’
  ‘We might want to take a little side trip from there.
An army from Korutiania is stationed on the western
shores in the Neekkentian Forest. We my be able to get
some security from them.’
  ‘Will they remember you.’
  ‘Some might. But I’m not sure if it’s a good thing for 
them to remember me. Maybe they’d protect us if they 
thought we were simply commoners.
  ‘We’ll just have to see what happens then.’
  Terrol pushed his luck a little further. ‘I’d actually
prefer it if we’d bypass Xinio and go straight to the
Neekkentian Forest. We could be in a lot more danger if
we stop off in Xinio. I think we should steer clear of
the major cities. The more of a crowd, the more of a
chance of being caught.’
  ‘And the more of a chance of eluding them.’ Iikin
corrected.
  Terrol changed the subject, ‘How did you get away from
the cult in the first place?
  Iikin closed his eyes in thought. ‘In my time - when I
had been captured by the cult, that is, the Revolution
leaders would test us after the first half of the
conversion - just to see how well the process was
working. If we passed, we’d go on to the final stage of
the transformation, if we failed, we’d be sent to the
visitation dungeons.’  
  ‘What are they?’
  ‘The visitation dungeons are places where failures are
visited by the evil God himself. He would totally
destroys their minds, but He gets the job done.’
  ‘But I thought he couldn’t enter upon this world.’
  ‘Not in body. Instead, by the mind. That was one of the
first things that they taught us. Anyway, my particular
test was to convert twenty people who hadn’t already been
changed. We’d be sent out in groups with only one or two
supervising. Often, we’d be sent away without any
supervision. It was during one of these trips, that I
decided never to return to Cult Mountain. So, basically,
they just let me go. I haven’t had any trouble from the
Cult since. How about you? How did you escape the horror?
  ‘Me?’ Terrol asked. ‘My cell was at the bottom of the
mountain on the outside. We were guarded by the luminous
eyes of the desert hounds. As a military man, I learned a
lot about narcotics. So, after a few weeks within the
mountain, I had collected all the material I needed. Then
late one night, I put together a gas bomb, threw it
amongst the dogs, picked the lock, then got away. Simple
as that.’
  ‘Simple enough.’
*  *  *  
  The following day was uneventful. They sold more of
their stock that day, cleared up, then hit the road with
no less than an hours worth of light left. Terrol, again
patrolled the back until they had passed well away from
the city.
  ‘How much did we make today?’ Terrol asked, hoping back
on board.
  ‘Twice as much as we made yesterday.’ He fished his
pocket and drew out another handful of silver and gold
pieces. ‘Here’s your share.’ 
  The following weeks on the road were slow. They had 
travelled west across the bridge that crossed The Great 
Gauge of Neekkent, then veered north - westerly. Though 
in need of haste, they moved no faster than at walking
speed. 
  They passed a range of mountains after about three
weeks and a half, and soon, crossed over the Assarii
border, meeting a highway that ran through the forest. 
  The slow weeks had brought with it rain, and a stiff
breeze from the far west. The road during these rain
periods was seldom cruised, but soon, they did come
across an elderly man in his seventies that had been
running his horse hard.
  ‘What’s the trouble friend?’ Iikin stopped the
carriage.
  The man was breathing heavily. ‘The cult are gathering
their forces in the forest.’ His eyes darted here and
there. ‘You don’t want to go there. They’re merciless.’
He continued to rambling as he proceeded south.
  ‘Sounds serious.’ Terrol noted watching the man gallop
away.
  ‘If we ever get in to any trouble,’ Iikin assured, ‘we
can just retreat to the Arni Barracks. I know the person
who owns the place. It’s kind of like a stronghold, only
stronger.’
  ‘I didn’t know you could get castles stronger than
strongholds.’
  ‘Neither did I. Until I met Wralio, that is.’
*  *  *
  Wralio was a jolly man who spoke with an accent. He 
missed an eye - most likely scars from battle - but
decided to leave it un - patched
  His home was huge. The walls were at least fifteen foot
thick reaching high into the sky. A large building sat
against the wall, opposite the gate. Along the walls
adjacent to it, were the homes and workplaces of black -
smiths, miners, kitchen hands, and other related and non
- related workers. The forest that surrrounded it looked
like a green carpet as view from atop that battlements.
It had it’s own moat, with drawbridge and towers -
everything expected in a castle - built upon a fair sized
knoll.
  The rain still held onto it’s grasp on the weather, but
patches of blue sky broke through the gloom every so
often. The climate dropped as the frighteningly cold wind
screamed its supremacy.
  ‘Iikin.’ Wralio greeted from the battlements. ‘What
brings you here?’
  ‘It’s good to see you.’ Iikin yelled back at him,
manoeuvring the last of his carriages through the main
gate. ‘The cult have brought me here.’
  He hurried down from above. ‘The cult did you say?’
  ‘That’s exactly what I said.’
  ‘Well, what about them?’
  ‘Didn’t you here? The cult are gathering their forces 
somewhere in this forest.’
  ‘Who told you that?’
  ‘Some lunatic out on the highway.’
  ‘Should he be taken seriously?’ 
  ‘Something would have had to have made him in the state
that he was.’ 
  ‘And it would have to have been something big.’ Terrol
added.
  ‘Oh yes.’ Iikin remember. ‘Where are my manners? This
is Terrol, my business partner.’
  Terrol inclined his head.
  ‘You’d want to watch out for this man Terrol.’ Wralio
advised. ‘If your not careful, he’ll rob you of
everything you’ve got.’
  ‘I’m not that bad.’ Iikin protested. 
  ‘Your not? I remember the time that you ripped off the
king in Srola in south - eastern Arlenel.’
  ‘That was twenty years ago.’ He turned to Terrol with a
pained look. ‘Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to
cause trouble - as usual.’
  Wralio howled with laugher. 
  ‘How’s the business going?’ Iikin changed the subject.
  ‘Just fine.’ Wralio replied. ‘Come along. I want to
show you something.’ he led them up the stairs of the
battlements. ‘Just to remind you, in case you’d forgotten
- and for our new friend here, I deal iin mining. Just
recently, there’s been a high demand for nitre crystals.
I don’t really know why, but when they ask for it, we
give it to them. We were able to mine from a local
limestone cave just a little way from here. We had to
make some room for stuff we mined, so we cleared away an
area of the forest. Also, we found bits of rock sulfur
mixed with it. After the first lot had been mined, the
rock somehow caught fire, causing an explosion.’ Wralio
pointed out a black, singed patch of trees as they
reached the top. ‘That’s what happened.’
  ‘What caused such a reaction?’
  ‘We’re not entirely sure. We found that charcoal had
also been mixed with it, but we’re still not sure if it
has anything to do with it. It seems that when nitre
crystals, rock sulfur and charcoal are mixed and set
alight, they cause an explosion. It’s real handy, because
it’s much easier to mine with. It blows holes in the
caves. We don’t have to do as much manual labour - that
is, shovelling, braking the rock into pieces. We just go
around, searching the debris.
  ‘Is that all you mine nowadays.’
  ‘No. We also mine bits of granite and sand stone and
stuff like that. We’ve also been collecting river gravel.
We’ve had to move all of it inside for protection against
the rain. We like to keep our products dry.’
  They were accommodated with private quarters whilst 
they were there, in the west wing of the main building. 
Terrol hadn’t felt the warmth of a bed in months.
  Terrol found an interesting book as he searched
Wralio’s library. It was one of his more newer books,
looking like it had never been touched. “Passed
Warriors:” was the title. “A document written and
published by the History department of the university of
Xinio, Bosloi. Chapter 3.” He flicked a few pages. “As
evolution took it’s path, and the human form began to
take shape. An unknown stage of this process had already
taken it’s toll upon a few unlucky, upon those, the first
set of humans that we know of today. 
  “The generations had slowly moulded and perfected the
human body, modelling the fine curves, and the distinct
nature of the mind that was in past generations, no more
than the size of a walnut. Speech was impediment, and in
no more than screeches and gestures. Eventually, discrete
sounds turned to words, then words turned to sentences.
  “During one of these stages, the manufacturing process
hastened upon a diverse race, causing vast and dangerous
altercations in the mind, along with noticeable physical
differences. The human form continued to evolve, as did
the beast.
  “Soon, the generations provided these beasts with an
appendage for flying, much like those of an eagle or
hawk. Their facial details disfigured more with time,
creating an even more inhuman creature.
  “The centuries continued. The beasts had each grown to
an average size of nine feet tall with arms and legs the
size of tree trunks. A mean sized new born was about four
feet tall, with enough strength to crush stone in it’s
bare hands. 
  “This race of beast was commonly known as the Gargoyle
- as the name was the first proper wordd they had ever
spoken. Like every race of people, a God had been created
to solve natures mysteries. In this case, Cludge, Ruler
of the Gargoyles was their explanation.
  “Their consciousness soon became as wary as the human
mind - they were able to build cities and construct
things from natural material. Whilst humans learnt the
supernatural secrets - forces of what we call “magic”, or
“wizardry”, or “sorcery” - the gargoyles too, followed
the same trail. Instead, their powers focused more upon
non - living entities and the unimaginable, whilst the
humans form of power consisted mainly with logic and
philosophy - mostly for their own desires.
  “Gargoyles soon became the humans main threat. Untruths
about each other soon spread amongst themselves, each
side becoming enraged with the accusations. A fatal
future would lie ahead for either of the two.
  “They gathered their forces, proceeding onward to
western Salla of Korutiania to a place called the
Cathedral. The Cathedral was an agnostic temple that 
believed in all Gods, and was a place for world wide 
worship for each person and their respective belief’s.
  “The forces of the Korutianian kingdom gathered on the
plains of Salla to meet the gargoyle army. The beginning
of a national conflict. 
  “They battled on for several months. Beast, at this
time, out numbered the human soldier three to one. The
roof tops of the Cathedral was the Gargoyles regrouping
area. It proved to be a good place; the gargoyles could
get there, but the humans couldn’t. During one of these
regroup periods, a well learned man, quick with power,
was sought for his skills. After a quick over view of the
many injured, and of the near extermination of man, he
sought to do the only thing he could - the extinction of
the gargoyle life. He cast a spell, a spell of eternal
capture, turning them to stone. 
  “Even now, do the gargoyles of ancient times look down
upon all those who enter the Cathedral, with the cries of
battle echoing their strong presence.”
  ‘You’ve got to be joking.’ Terrol quietly objected to
the rubbish he had read. The documentary, in Terrol’s
mind, started out good, but then turned into more of a
children’s bed time story.       
  Throwing the book on the floor beside him, he cuddled
up and went to bed.
*  *  *
  ‘Come on boy. Wake up!’ It was Iikin, and there was
trouble. 
  Terrol sprang from his bed in haste. ‘What is it?’
  ‘There here.’ he said. ‘The cult’s here. Were in the
middle of a siege.’
  Terrol quickly got dressed, then raced to the top of
the battlements, joining Wralio who was peering down
intently through the canopy. 
  ‘Where are they?’ Terrol questioned quietly. The sky
had cleared, with the early morning twilight illuminating 
the sky to the east.
  ‘All around us.’ he replied. ‘Soon, they’ll begin work
on the walls.’
  Wralio’s siege engines were already in place, cocked
and loaded with boiling pitch. 
  Flame could be seen only in flickers through the
canopy. Worryingly, there were many. 
  They waited another several minutes. The eastern
horizon was quickly brightening, the stars above them
slowly disappearing. The surrounding area became more and
more apparent, but enemy numbers were still unknown.
  Wralio’s impatience had won him over. ‘Let’s flush them
out. As it’s still only early morning, they won’t know
what hit them.
  ‘What are you suggesting?’ Iikin asked.
  ‘I think we’ll drop the pitch on them for a little
while. If we can disrupt them enough, it should give us
more time to set up before they start attacking.’
  On Wralio’s command, the first rounds of pitch that 
were ready, were launched with the catapults, high into
the air. The trees hissed as it came crashing down. The
enemy cries were like sweet music to Wralio’s ears.
  The engines were re - cocked.
  ‘I think I just may have come up with an idea.’ Iikin
said as he looked at the siege engines. ‘You remember
telling us about that explosive new stuff that you
found?’
  ‘Of coarse.’ Wralio frowned at him. 
  ‘And didn’t you say that you had to move all of your
products inside the castle?’
  ‘Yes.’
  ‘Great. What if, you put that explosive mixture
together and in the middle of all the pitch? Then you
launch it and before it hit’s the ground, it’ll explode
into a million pieces. The pitch will hit more things
that way.’
  ‘There’s one problem.’
  ‘What’s that?’
  ‘No charcoal.’
  ‘You don’t really need charcoal, do you.’
  ‘It seems to helps the mixture light up.’
  Terrol thought of something. ‘You do have charcoal in
the grounds, you know.’
  ‘I didn’t see any.’ Wralio complained.
  ‘You were warming you feet with it. The fires remember.
You burn wood in the fire, and it’s remains either turn
to ash, or to charcoal.’
  ‘Of coarse. But there’s still one problem. It’d be best
if we put the explosive in the middle of the pitch. But,
how would we light it? I mean, even if we attach some
sort of string to it for the fire to crawl along, when we
light the wick up, it’ll light up the pitch around it.
And there’s no guarantee that the pitch will explode.’
  ‘Didn’t you say that you collect river gravel?’ Iikin
said.
  Wralio nodded.
  ‘And in river’s, don’t you sometimes find reeds?’
  ‘Yes. We collect them to make baskets and things like
that.’
  ‘Hollow reeds?’
  Wralio suddenly smiled, and chuckled at his stupidity.
Silly me. I should have know.’
  ‘Sorry to interrupt.’ Terrol intermitted. ‘But I don’t
quite follow.’
*  *  *