“My lord I beseech you, the Demon Scepter has been found and the mage Cernunnus seeks to summon 
Xathan Darksoul back into Goreth.  Your greatness we need you.”  The dragon swayed its head to the left 
slowly, studying the small humans before it through its reptilian eyes.  Its heavy breathing echoed 
throughout the great hall as Serinoa waited for its answer.  None came. “My lord I was told that Demons 
are the mortal enemies of Dragons, will you not help us destroy them?” Serinoa waited as it crouched 
regarding them all.  Its breathing the only sound escaping it.  Serinoa fidgeted in frustration. 
If the dragon would not join them nothing would stop the demon army from crushing Goreth.  The Ovate 
had warned that the dragon kin were stubborn but she had never suspected this level of resistance. She had 
assumed the dragon would jump at the chance to destroy its ancient enemy.  But instead the creature sat 
watching silently.  Refusing to answer her pleas.  It refused to be baited, refused to even give a reason why 
it would not help.  There was simply no way of arguing with it. 
 “My lord please.” She cried close to tears.  Suddenly and with surprising speed the Dragon darted its head 
forward until it’s huge, scaled face, larger even than her entire body, hovered less than a meter before her.  
She leapt back slightly in fright, but the dragon moved its head forward until again it was right in front of 
her.  
It’s snake like eyes blinked at her its gaze intent.  She watched fearfully as it’s huge nostrils flared wide and 
her hair whipped about her face as the Dragon inhaled deeply. She dared not move as the creature 
continued to study her.  Inhaling her scent. The wind stopped and her hair settled around her.  It blinked 
again, continuing with that unnerving gaze.  Then with what almost sounded like a sigh it finally, slowly 
withdrew rearing its head up until again it towered over the humans.  Serinoa knew something had 
happened.  A decision had been made.  “Will you aid us?” She asked for the final time. Again that horrible 
steady breath answered her. Then in a cold emotionless voice the oldest of the reptiles spoke.
“Chaos will defeat itself.” It blinked slowly and again fell silent.  
“Chaos will defeat itself?” Serinoa repeated confused.  The dragon closed its eyes and rose up onto its four 
legs turning lazily away from them. “Wait…”
“Go.” It said again in that inhumanly cold voice. A deafening thud reverberating with each of its footsteps.  
“I don’t understand.” She cried.
“Go now.” It said again with a deadly finality.  Then slowly and lazily it retreated back into the cave.  Its 
tail swinging to and fro as it disappeared. Serinoa watched helplessly as her hopes of salvation vanished.
“That leaves only the giants and the bird people.” She sighed in a resigned voice. 
  
    

“Insufferable fools.” Priam muttered to himself as he opened the door to his living quarters.  A figure stood 
by the window his back to the nobleman.  A large, red cape of finest satin hung from his shoulders 
extending all the way to the ground.  It served to hide his arms and even his feet from view.  About the 
collar it extended up to either side of his head and arched about in a triangle shape the edges pointing 
towards his ears. 
 “Who are you?  How dare you…” but his protests were cut off as an invisible force grabbed him about the 
throat.  Priam clutched at his throat but was unable to stop the strange magic that was cutting off his life 
supply of air.  Choking he fell to his knees reaching for his neck and trying with all his might to draw 
breath as the door behind him slammed shut.  
“I am not a patient man Lord Priam, and do not appreciate being kept waiting.  Especially not by a worm 
such as you.” Priam fell to the ground one hand still clutching his throat the other reaching to bring himself 
back onto his feet.  “You have the audacity to summon me… summon ME, and then you keep me waiting.  
Such actions can serve to significantly shorten your life. I hope whatever information you have for me is 
worth that risk.”  
The figure turned revealing a pristine looking gentleman with thick black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee 
sitting beneath a sharp nose.  The mans eyes were a wood brown and a hint of gray blemished his beard.  
His clothes were cut from the finest cloth, finer even than the Kings own tunic, and had clearly been tailor 
fitted.  Long black boots extending nearly to knee height adorned each foot and they shone brightly with 
little hint of dust or dirt.  On each hand the man wore black glove over which rested nearly a dozen rings 
one each hand.  Each ring generously sporting a gem of either saphires, Opal, quartz, ruby and even 
diamond.     
Priam unfortunately could not fully appreciate the newcomers ostentatious appearance, due to the lack of 
air currently in his lungs.  He began to feel giddy and the world seemed to darken as bright flecks of light 
danced across his eyes. He continued to clutch at his throat as his face took on a purple hue. 
The newcomer stared down at him for a moment.  “Well? Speak.” Suddenly the force was gone and with 
firm desperation Priam inhaled the much needed oxygen into his burning lungs.  He fell to the ground in a 
spasm of coughing and spluttering.  After a few moments of this he scrambled into a kneeling position and 
placed his head upon the ground in a sign of deference.  
“My Master Ashitare, I apologize the King had summoned me and I did not wish to arouse suspicions 
by…”  Ashitare’s firm voice cut him off.
 “Quit your blathering, and stop wasting my time.”
“Yes my Master, yes.” Priam paused for a moment taking another deep breath.  “My Master the Keepers of 
Goreth have appeared.”  Ashitare looked down at the noble man, displeasure visible in his eyes.
“The who?”
“The Keepers of Goreth my Master, the ones fortold of in the Golay prophesies.”
“You waste my time, you waste his Imperial Majesties time, with prophesies?”
“No my master no.” Quivered Priam, desperately trying to control his bodily functions.  “Master the 
prophesies are nearly one thousand years old.  They were written before the Ice, in the time of the Empire 
of Ostland.”
“What?” Ashitare paused suddenly interested. “A prophesy from the time of Ostland you say.” He tapped 
his gloved forefinger against his lips. “Interesting.” Priam raised his head and stared up at his master who 
stood thinking quietly.  Seemingly almost oblivious to the Gorethian nobleman’s presence. “Very 
interesting indeed.”  Priam licked his lips nervously as Ashitare glanced down at him. “You have served us 
well.  Go now, return to your war.” Priam smiled pleased to hear the praise.  
“Thankyou my master.  Thankyou. Give my regards to his Imperial Majesty.”  Ashitare waved him away 
and scrambling to his feet he bobbed his head once or twice before reopening the doors and exiting. As he 
closed them once again he heard Ashitare mutter. 
“An Ostlandian Prophesy.. interesting.” Then the double doors were closed.  
Priam leaned his head against their surface in exhaustian.  Relieved to still be alive.  He clutched at his 
throat remembering that terrible pressure, and not for the first time wished he had not chosen to get into bed 
with these devils. Inhaling deeply with closed eyes he tried to regain his composure, chastising himself for 
his doubts.  Against Ashitare and his Emperor, Goreth had no chance of victory.  That much was a 
certainty.  This was the only way of assuring that something of Goreth would remain after they were done 
with it.    
  

 

Serinoa remained agitated as Gerod closed the door behind him.  She looked so beautiful as she looked up 
at him and nodded.  He smiled winningly at her. Gerod was used to private rendezvous like this, and he 
knew that his charms had melted their way into more than one womans heart in the recent weeks, but he 
had never suspected that Serinoa had been among those that…
“Gerod do you trust me?” She asked coldly. He stepped back a little surprised.  This wasn’t usually the way 
these conversations started. 
“Yes, I trust you.”
“Then believe me when I say, I know how to win this war with the Palorthians.” His eyes widened in 
surprise.
“How?” He asked, all thoughts of courtship gone. Again she paced back and forth uncertainly.  Fidgeting in 
frustration.
“Gerod soon the Demons will come.  You know that don’t you.” He nodded. “We must be strong if we are 
to defeat them don’t you agree.” Again he nodded.  “So we need to conserve our resources for that battle, 
minimise our losses in this war.” It made sense he supposed.  “Then I need you to pass this strategy on to 
the King.  It’s somewhat unorthedox, but he may listen to you as leader of the Starsword Maki.”
“Why do I need to approach the King with this? Why cant you do it?”
“Because he wont listen to me.  I’m a weaver, a commoner, someone with no political power and I’m a 
woman, you have more weight.” Gerod nodded again the woman made sense.  “Gerod you must swear to 
me, on your honor, for the sake of all of Goreth that you will pass this on to the King.  You must swear 
Gerod, because you are not going to like what I have to say.”  He stared at her suspiciously.  He definitely 
didn’t like the sound of this.  Swearing to something he had no idea of.  But nethertheless he held up his 
sword before him blade to the ground as was the fashion. 
“On my honor as a member of the Starsword Maki I so do swear.” She closed her eyes.


(Cont…)
“We can’t do that!” The King cried aghast.  “Your talking about breaking nearly a thousand years worth of 
tradition here. Not one of the Maki’s will agree to it.” Gerod looked like he was going to throw up such was 
the revulsion on his face but nethertheless he protested.
“But you must agree it will work.” TheKing was flabberghasted.
“Well… possibly. But think of what your saying man.” 
“Yes think of it your Highness.” Serinoa interrupted.  “It will revolutionise war as we know it.”
“It’s not the way things are done woman.” The King chastised her.
“As you say, which is why it will work.” The King looked at her steadily seeing her for the first time.  
Perhaps she’d overstepped herself.  She should have let Gerod do the talking.  Her pride had betrayed her.
“This is your idea. Isn’t it.” Something in her face must have told him he was right. “I should have 
expected as much. Women have no true concept of the importance of honor and, tradition.  Only a woman 
could conceive of a scheme such as this. Which goes against everything that our people have fought and 
died for over the last four hundred years.” Serinoa bit her tongue, against the retort which desperately tried 
to escape out. She couldn’t afford to destroy this, their only chance for victory.
“It is as you say my King.” She replied humbly.  “But, I beg you consider what we suggest.  Honor and 
tradition are two edged swords.  It brought the Old Palorthia to it’s knees.”
“You dare!” The King spat.  There was no turning back now.  Serinoa cursed her arrogance.
“My King forgive me, but ask yourself, whose tradition is this.  The way we fight, have always fought is 
not the Gorethian way but the Palorthian way.  So many of their customs, Houses and yes even traditions 
are so heavily integrated into our society that we have even begun to think that they were ours.  If we fight 
the way they fight, eat the way they eat, sing their songs, play their games of politics.  Are we really a 
different Kingdom, or are their claims that we are a rebel state that still belongs to their empire true  If we 
fight like Palorthians, are we not Palorthians?” The King stared at her silently, the wheels turning in his 
head.
“You are very eliquent my dear, and present your case with remarkable conviction.”
“My King, I live but to serve.”   She replied curtsying gracefully. 
“Would you adopt this technique my boy?” He asked turning to Gerod.  Gerod looked for a long moment at 
Serinoa and then again back to the King.
“I believe its our last best chance. Even though it goes against everything I’ve been taught, I think it will 
work.  We can beat them, we need only your permission.”  The room descended into an uneasy silence as 
the King considered their request.  Serinoa hadn’t felt this uncomfortable since conversing with the Dragon, 
but she did a good show of hiding it. He nodded slowly.  There was no turning back now.

**The technique they are discussing is the same one used by the Monguls.  The Palorthians use similar 
fighting style to the Japanese in that their warriors single out their opponents fight a duel and then single 
out a second opponent and fight a duel.  This way honour can be claimed for those opponents whom you 
killed.  The Palorthians do not make full use of their archers and so this is what will be used against them.  
The Archers will stand picking off the Palorthian warriors as they charge across the field.  The actual 
tactics used by the Palorthians will need to be demontrated in previous battles at least twice.  In the second 
book when Serinoa is turned to evil she will use a similar scheme against Goreth with cavalry. The idea 
being that the Cavalry slow down slightly before entering combat and announce their arrival.  By sending 
them charging straight through the lines The archers are unable to pick them off.  Think Australian light 
horsemen.****