"Lord Daravon!" Sir Malvious shouted out.
    "What?" Kullvox blurted out.
    "Lord Daravon is the traitor, Milord.  He as always been after your thrown.  Is that not how the Thirty Years War began?  And where is Lord Daravon now?"
    "Lord Daravon is no traitor," King Ulmerad said sternly, "He and I have worked too hard to let Ikros be torn apart once again.  Sir Garalt, what evidence do you have of this heavy accusation?"
    "Milord, I, along with Greylen and Demonclaw, were atop the Tower of Olyian with Sir Liphon and Sir Wiegar when the black dragon attacked."
    "Yes, I am fully aware of that."
    "We overheard the two knights speaking Milord.  Sir Liphon and Sir Wiegar were responsible for awakening Tel'Karak Zrahl.  And they were not working alone."
    "Surely this cannot be??" Ulmerad exclaimed.
    "It is true, your Majesty," Demonclaw stepped forward, "we were there, and overheard everything."
    "This news is most disturbing," Ulmerad said, straining to keep himself upright on his horse.
    "What do you intend to do, Garalt?"  Sir Hillsbrad asked.
    "I do not know yet," Garalt said slowly.  "As of right now I do not trust anyone."
    "A wise move," Drakon added.
    "But I do have suspicions," Garalt said, looking at the ground.
    Suddenly Alyia screamed.  Garalt turned to see what was attacking her, and he was stopped short.

    Sir Villious and Scythe, Demonclaw's friend of old, were both holding a hostage.  Sir Villious had his dark axe blade hovering dangerously close to Greylen's neck, and Scythe was doing the same to Alyia with his staff.  Alyia had been so surprised that she had dropped her magical bow.  
    "Help!  Garalt!" Alyia squirmed.
    "You'll best pipe down, Milady," Scythe said, tossing Alyia around a bit, "If you don't want a second smile that is."
    "Vile Traitors!" Sir Malvious said, stepping forward.
    "Ahh, watch yourself there, Malvious," Villious said with a smirk, "Come any closer and the wizard here will not see another sunrise."
    "How could you?" Sir Haleron shouted.
    "Easy," Scythe said with a smile, "the boss is paying us very well."
    "But, why go against Ikros?" Demonclaw asked.
    "There is money to be made, Demon.  There's room for you, too."
    "We fought together, shed blood together.  Scythe how could you do this?" Demonclaw sighed.
    "Enough of this," Sir Brockram said, storming to the two with sword in hand.  Garalt gasped and reached out to him.  Didn't he know he was risking Alyia and Greylen's lives?