"I urge you again my lady," Bon said, standing by his horse. "Please, call off this chase. With the enemy we made of that council woman, we should stay and prepare to defend ourselves."

    "If I''m not here then she won''t come for me," Reckless replied. Sniffing, she checked the saddle of her horse and then mounted the beast in one swift movement.

    Bon sighed. He hadn''t believed he could change her mind, but it was worth one final shot. Nodding at the guard captain, who was remaining behind to guard the manor, he mounted his own steed. The guard lieutenant was in charge of the half dozen mercenaries that would form their escort. The fighters were the best he could hire, but even so he was concerned. The object of Lady Nothing''s attentions had proven to be an incredibly dangerous foe, although Bon wasn''t really sure he had to be a foe. He determined to try and convince Reckless to try a more subtle approach if, and more likely, when they caught up with him.

    It was simply too costly in men otherwise.

    The small party moved out, passing through the ground''s main gates, horses steaming in the early morning air. They made a steady pace through the early traffic, passing through the south gate with no interference.

    Bon wondered how many spies were watching their departure. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and looked at the road ahead instead. Enough to worry about with this wizard they were chasing.

    He settled himself into his saddle as the group increased their speed slightly. Adventure awaited, no doubt.

    Bon rather wished adventure would carry on without him.

    ~ * ~

    "Well, look who deigns to visit the peasants," Reginald said, as Urt entered the small barn behind the Hag''s hut. "Your majesty." He performed a mock bow, although he was sitting on a box eating something.

    A compact fire burned in the middle of the stone floor, over which the remains of some kind of small animal hung on a spit.

    "Is that one of the many animals you owe me?" asked Urt.

    "No, it was here when we arrived," chirped up Horace. He had been placed on a similar box to the one Reginald was sitting on. Lucy was standing nearby, staring off into space.

    Urt looked around. Despite what the were-sheep had said, the barn was probably just as cosy as the main hut. Straw was piled up along two walls, with a partitioned area for the horses. Several sleeping furs were off to one side, although only one looked used.

    "I see you''ve had a comfortable night then," Urt noted.

    "Not as comfortable as all that," Horace replied. "There was this terrible racket coming from the big nob''s house."

    "Yes," Reginald said, grinning from ear to ear. "Sounded like some brutal fighting. I for one was concerned for your health."

    "Oh grow up," Urt replied, both please and annoyed.

    "You''re blushing," Horace added.

    Reginald made kissing sounds, spitting out food in the process. "Oh Hag dearest!" he mocked. "Do you love me?"

    "I''m going to make you all suffer horribly," Urt scowled, only half joking.

    "Won''t be as bad as listening to that last night." Reginald went back to eating.

    "Come on," Urt said. "The Hag''s told me how to get to Banesville. We should get moving. Stop stuffing your face and put the fire out. Lucy, take Horace and ready the horses."

    "Yes master," the small zombie said.

    In short order, the group was ready to move. They led the horses around to the road. Urt looked at the front door of the Hag''s hut, but of her there was no sign. He sighed. She''d made it clear that she wouldn''t be mourning his departure.

    "You okay boss?" asked Reginald, in a moment of actual concern.

    "I''ll be fine. Ships that pass in the night, sort of thing."

    "I''ve never seen a ship," the were-sheep replied.

    "I think I have," Horace chirped up from his bag. "I might have been a sailor when I was alive. I''m sure I have sea legs, or had."

    "What happened to the rest of him anyway?" Reginald asked Urt.

    "There was a technical issue raising him," Urt replied. "Necromancer stuff, you wouldn''t understand." In truth, Horace''s head was the only thing that had re-animated when he''d tried to raise him, for some odd reason. Urt had decided to cut the body away before Horace had become fully aware of his surroundings, rather than dispose of the even limited success. Horace had been the last zombie, or part zombie, he''d managed to raise. It was embarrassing.

    "So, why don''t you raise some more zombies then?" asked Reginald, pushing ahead blindly.

    "I need bodies first," Urt said. "And ingredients. And time and a place. None of which I have at the moment." He gave Horace''s bag a glare, daring him to speak.

    "I bet you''re looking forward to Banesville then," Reginald went on, cheerfully. "No doubt they will have all those things."

    "Maybe." Urt pondered this statement. He was hoping that Mangle was there, and he''d have an explanation for his... issue.

    They trotted on in silence for a while, meeting no one, which wasn''t surprising, considering it lead to Mudrut. After about an hour, Urt pulled up and examined the side of the road.

    "What are we looking for?" asked Reginald.

    "There''s a turning off to Banesville, but it''s masked in some fashion. The Hag said I should be able to see it, but I can''t."

    "Are you sure you''re looking on the right side?" asked Horace.

    "Don''t be foo... Oh." Urt stopped as he concentrated on the left side of the track and saw a definite shimmering to his magical senses.

    "Hah, I knew it," the zombie head crowed.

    "Alright, alright," Urt scowled. "Anyone can make a mistake sometimes. Hold on a second." He muttered the incantation the Hag had given him, and the undergrowth wobbled and vanished, to reveal a fairly narrow, but well worn track leading west.

    "Interesting," Reginald said. "You passed this twice without seeing it."

    "I wasn''t looking before," Urt replied. "Come on, it only stays clear for a minute."