Breaking through the bramble, Tymus could see that he was mostly too late though his outrage did have several targets remaining which he dispatched with a quick glance at his friends and several sharp hand motions, specific whistles, and barks. Two raiders broke free and charged Tymus, though they quickly regretted not running the other direction as he was neither intimidated nor overwhelmed by the uneven odds. In less than one blink and two breaths, he stood over them scowling not even bothering to check for a glimmer of life as the headless have no such luxury.

Carefully picking his footing, Tymus walked through the burning remains of the caravan looking for any survivors of the brutal attack. Glancing at his friends, cleaning gore from their paws casually, he signaled them to spread out and seek the trail of the raiders who were gone by the time he had arrived. As they disappeared into the trees, he resumed his careful search. The falling night had become quiet except for the dying sounds of crackling fire interspersed with the occasional loud pop as wood hit a pocket of encased sap. Not a soul cried out. Tymus noticed with a start that the caravan was very nearly half human and half elven with an almost equal mix of women and men.

As he continued his search, all seemed utterly lifeless in the clearing and his mind wandered to what he would beg the King to do once he located the hideout of the raiders. Too many times they had been allowed to kill with impunity. Too many lives had been taken from the lands. Too many needed goods had gone to feed the corrupt. There would be nowhere for them to hide if he could finally get . . . a movement in a nearby bush caught his attention. With a smooth swiftness, Tymus was prone in the dirt holding a dagger by its point that appeared in his hand from his boot as he went down. Ready to throw, he crept toward the bush which no longer rustled. No more sound. No more movement. Switching the dagger to his other hand, he parted the bushes and looked into the deep blue eyes of an infant silently staring back at him . . .

Evandar jerked awake and was out of the bunk before the second clang of the warning bell had been struck. Strapping on sword belt and grabbing longbow, Evan ran for the stairs up to the roof where the first rays of dawn were casting their fingers from the horizon. As Evan notched the first arrow and let fly, it was obvious that all was lost. Never one to simply give up, Evan let soar arrow after arrow as the interrupted dream continued . . .

After gathering the child into his arms, Tymus returned home with troubled thoughts. What to do with the infant? There was certainly no way he could raise the baby on his own. By the time he had reached his cabin, Tymus knew that he must give the infant to his childhood friend, Drebben, and his wife. While he could be an excellent instructor and even thought of himself as a good uncle to Drebben's other children, Tymus knew that he could never be a father and a mother to this lost child.

Even though Drebben and Lyeia raised the lost child on their farm, Tymus did get to spend the winters teaching his ways to the youth where he grew to think of himself more as a father than an uncle as he watched the child grow into a skilled adult who knew the ways of the deep forest and understood the patterns of the life it sheltered. Restless in a patiently quiet way for a few decades, the young adult finally left both the farm of Drebben and the forest of Tymus one early spring day, the year after Lyeia had died, to begin another life where the burning desire of new found knowledge and vengeance could possibly be released . . .

The battle was fierce but lost before it began. Instinctively returning to the old ways, Evan was down the back walls as soon as the last soldier fell with an anguished cry. Fleeing with old hatred at those who had defeated the soldiers, Evan fumed with swirling thoughts of how to best seek vengeance on these newest of enemies. Return to the King with the news? Soldiering for him had now seemed a waste. Return home? While the forests called, the farm would never again feel like home. Evan decided to try another option . . .