Prologue

The moon’s rays were incapable of penetrating the thick fog that lay on the land, turning the forest below into a cloudy haze of trees. Standing tall and thick they watched as four figures moved like shadows in the thick underbrush that was hidden by the canopy of leaves high above.

The wind whistled through the grass as the moon’s blue rays came in to play with the fog.

Though not able to reveal what was on the other side, they were happy that they could light a little part of the journey as the four figures stood at the edge of the clearing. The grass parted silently as the four started forth, making their way around the outer part of the clearing ‘til they reached the opposite side, where they started into the thick forest that was still barring their way.

Chapter One

Peaking up over the horizon the sun spread its rays across the land, revealing a beautiful castle standing tall and proud. On one side was a cliff that fell away to meet with the sea, while on the other there lay a thick forest that was heavily laden with fog. In front of the castle stood many small cottages making up the village. The wall around it was thick enough for two horses to walk side by side around the top, while towering over any passerby.

Out of the thick fog of the forest stepped a man. A gray cloak was thrown over his shoulders, clasped at the throat by a silver leaf that had been threaded together by careful hands. The hood was thrown back to reveal a handsome face with dark hair and eyes the colour of a stormy sea. Behind him came another man, who looked to be an older version of him, while behind the second was a young woman along with yet another man.

They stood at the edge of the forest looking at the wall surrounding the village for a moment before the young man looked at the woman, who still had her hood on hiding her face from view. The men all had thrown their hoods back, letting the wind play with their hair.

“You have brought us home in safety. I must thank you.” Her voice was soft and magical, making a glimmer of a smile appear on the man’s face. Nodding at her words he turned back to the castle to start around the wall and approach the gate that stood at the entrance to the village.

Upon their arrival the sentry on the wall hailed their coming for the gate to be immediately opened for the four travelers to pass through, for the acknowledgment was immediate. As they passed through the village toward the castle all heads bowed in respect and fear of the woman walking behind the young man. When they had reached the castle they walked across the drawbridge that was dropped across the deep moat that surrounded it, going immediately to the big front doors that stood in the wall of the castle.

However the door to the castle opened from the inside and a short man appeared. He wore an anxious face as the travelers drew near. When they were in earshot he said, in a rather frightened voice, “Your highness, you are home!” He followed her as she walked on by him to the flight of stairs, the young tracker coming after. The short man had to be head and shoulders shorter then the woman, and more so than the young tracker, though he carried himself like a man who was twice his size, making him seemed bigger then he really was.

His silken suit was of a blue tint, like that of an early winter night while the sun sets in its western sky. There where little pearls running their way around the cuffs of the suit and the high necked collar that ended in a ruffle of lace that had to be incredibly itchy. Along the front where the buttons would be was a ruffle of lace, that winded at the top making a triangle that had been stretched to humiliation down to the waist there it seemingly interjoined with the darker blue pants. Tucked into his shoes were some comical silken stockings that were pulled up to his knees.

In this dress he made the woman he walked beside look like a peasant in her tight dark green pants, that were not so tight as skin tight, being tucked into her dark brown boots. Her light green shirt was loosely fitted with a brown belt around her slender waist, keeping it close so it would not get in the way. Her gray cloak was thrown over all of this while still hiding her face.

“Your highness, Mr. Manories is in the drawing room.” The little man had to almost run to keep up with her.

She sighed. “What could he want?”

“I’m not sure your highness, he would not tell me.” He was very thankful when she stopped to turn to him.

“Tell him I shall be there shortly.”

“Yes, your highness.” He bowed before turning to go back down the stairs that they were now more than half way up, leaving the princess and the tracker to keep going to turn down a long hall on the right of the landing at the top. After going down this hall they turned into another to be greeted by some servants, before turning into a beautifully furnished room.

The young tracker stayed standing by the door as the woman walked over to the bed taking her cloak off in the same motion. Her long dark hair fell down to hide her light green shirt from view like a wave from a silken sea, being glad to be free at last to do so.

Picking up the dress that the servants had laid on her bed she went over to the addition to change, as she had told the servants to wait outside for a moment; she wanted a word with the tracker alone.

“What do you suppose he wants?”

“I’m sure I do not know.”

“I hope he has not come to ask my hand in marriage again. If he has I shall banish him from ever coming here again.”

“Mardor.” The young tracker gave a small smile. A moment later she reappeared from behind the addition in her magnificent dress that set off her dark eyes and hair with its off-white, low cut top that flowed down over a dark violet silken skirt that in turn flowed to the floor. Set into the top were little pearls marching their way around the bottom as well as setting themselves into little patterns of ivy leaves and flowers. The sleeves went to her elbows to flow out, hanging down as far over the skirt as the top did, turning transparent somewhere along the way.

On a thin silver chain around her neck hung a ruby that had to be half as big as her palm, cut in a circle. Engraved on it in the bottom right hand corner was a small figure of a wolf standing on a ledge that hung over a sea; it was howling at a moon that was up in the left hand corner. It was a very detailed piece of work that had been crafted by the best hands in the country of Mandorlyn. If you turned it over you would find engraven there some words that were in a strange language.

Mardor gave an innocent look as she placed her hands one over the other behind her, like a child caught doing something bad. “What? You know full well how I despise that man... Well, I suppose he is a good man and he does mean well with some of what he does,” she added as her friend had given her that knowing look that she knew so well from past experiences with it.

“You are too harsh on him.”

“I am too harsh on a lot of people.” Mardor walked over to her full-length mirror and looked at herself before her gaze shifted to the man now standing behind her.

“What do you think?”

“You know what I think.”

With a brilliant smile, she turned to look at him. “Yes, but I should like to hear it all the same.”

This question did not receive an answer as the servants came in to help her make herself ready to see the seventh duke of Manories Hall, Sir Marcant Manories. The young tracker slipped from the room as the servants started to put their mistress’s hair up.