textfiles/magazines/DARGONZINE/dargon.v7n3

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 --   DargonZine Volume 7, Issue 3        08/24/94          Cir 1075   --
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 --         Archives at ftp.etext.org in pub/Zines/DargonZine          --
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 --                            Contents                                --
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  DAG                          Dafydd                 Editorial
  Kidnapped 1                  Max Khaytsus           Yule 21-23, 1014
  Love an Adventure II         Orny Liscomb           Yuli 2, 1016
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1                          Dafydd's Amber Glow
                   by Dafydd Cyhoeddwr, Editor DargonZine
                        <white@duvm.ocs.drexel.edu>

      Well, I don't write editorials very  often any more but this is a
 special occaison  - this  is the  last issue of  DargonZine I  will be
 Editor for.
      The electronic  magazine will continue, though,  once again under
 the capable guidance of its creator, Ornoth Liscomb, whom you may have
 noticed has  returned to  the project. The  Dargon Project  has always
 been his, even when he wasn't here  - I was only ever a caretaker. Now
 that he has returned, and that he has time and energy to devote to it,
 we (all of the authors and myself) are turning control back to him.
      There may be some changes in the  look of the 'zine, and with any
 luck  it  should  come out  a  little  more  often,  if not  any  more
 regularly. But  the basic element of  the 'zine - the  stories - won't
 change much save to get better,  perhaps, with Orny's input once again
 available to us all.
      Orny will, I'm sure,  have much to say in the  next issue to come
 out. Its  been a fun  6 years, and I'm  glad that DargonZine  is still
 around for me to pass back to him. Enjoy, everyone!
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1                        Kidnapped, Part 1
                          by Max Khaytsus
            (b.c.k.a. <khaytsus@alumni.cs.colorado.edu>)

      Kera's  sword  connected  solidly  with  her  opponent's  shield,
 splintering a large chip from the edge.
      He stepped  back, shaking  his shield arm  to relax  the strained
 muscle from the force of the blow.
      Kera quickly  closed the distance  the retreat created  and swung
 again, connecting with the battered shield once more. The wood groaned
 and splintered, revealing a crack through the shield's face.
      He took another step back and attacked Kera's shield, causing her
 to momentarily lose balance. She recovered, delivering a third blow to
 the shield.  With a splintering  sound, the  shield broke and  the man
 flung his  arm down, shaking  the remains of  wood and leather  to the
 ground. Kera took a step back and tried to unstrap her own shield.
      "Keep it," her opponent instructed,  grasping his sword with both
 hands.
      "What about the code?" she took hold of the loose strap again.
      He swung at her and she dodged, dropping to one knee to avoid the
 blade. "You need to learn to fight, not respect."
      "Are you saying I don't know  how to fight?" Kera's sword glanced
 off his legging, shaving a yellow spark.
      "That's right!"  her opponent's sword  came down hard  across her
 own blade,  breaking her  grip on  it and throwing  the weapon  to the
 ground.
      Sir Ariam Brand  stepped back, sheathing his sword.  "Get up. You
 talk too much. You're letting the conversation distract you."
      Kera stood up, removing her helmet.
      "Why the shield?"
      "You kept blocking," Kera explained her attack.
      "But at the end you ignored me. You fought my shield."
      "I thought I could get to you if you didn't have it."
      "And you killed my shield, but that  left you tired and gave me a
 free arm. Get your sword."
      Kera picked up her blade.
      Sir Brand  drew his  sword and  brought it  down on  Kera's right
 side. "You  got down to  avoid my blow.  That saved you  from dropping
 your sword."
      Kera brought her blade up to block the one pointed at her.
      "Here," Sir Brand indicated, tapping his sword against hers. "I'd
 force it into the ground and you'd either bend with it or drop it. You
 did the right thing by not  parrying. But then you should have brought
 your sword  in behind the shield  and gotten up, instead  of attacking
 me."
      "I  shouldn't fight  up," Kera  repeated  what she  had heard  so
 often.
      "That's right."
      "What about a feint?" Kera asked.
      "That was a feint.  I swung left, you went right.  I had a choice
 of your head, your shield or your sword."
      "All right,"  Kera got  down on  one knee.  "I'm down,  sword in,
 trying to get up. You still have a choice of head or shield."
      "Push  forward as  you get  up," Sir  Brand assumed  his previous
 position. "I can't hit you if you're inside my reach."
      Kera got up, stepping forward. "Like this?"
      "Right. Now look,  I lose my swing when we're  this close. I have
 to step back. Now,  be careful not to try this  with opponents who are
 fighting with  a stiletto or a  short sword in their  off hand. You'll
 have to get up by pushing away, then. It's not as effective, but you'd
 at least  make them chase you  down before they can  hit you. Luckily,
 most people can't fight with two weapons."
      "Sir Keegan does, sometimes."
      "He was trained at it. Few people are."
      "Now come on, let's try that again and don't distract yourself by
 talking."
      "Yes, Sir," Kera prepared for the next match.
      "I'll need..."
      "Lady!" A young page called from the fenced edge of the Arena.
      "Go ahead," Sir Brand said. "I need to get a shield."
      Kera hurried over to the page.
      "I'm sorry to  interrupt, ma'am, but the Baron wishes  to see you
 right away."
      "All right," Kera said. "I'll be  right there." The page left and
 she turned to Sir Brand, ready with a new practice shield.
      "Go ahead,"  he told  her. "It's getting  close to  dinner. We'll
 continue tomorrow."
      "Thank you," Kera dropped her own  shield on a bench and sheathed
 her sword. "I will be seeing you at dinner, my Lord. Good day."
      "Good day," the knight answered and she left.
      It had been just three days since Rien had left and two since the
 three regiments  training at Valdasly  Keep marched out the  gates and
 down the  road towards the village,  on their way to  the Royal Duchy.
 Few soldiers  and knights remained  at the  Keep -- mostly  guards and
 assistants to the Baron, who waited for word from Duke Glavenford.
      Rien would have  gone with the troops,  but Adrea's disappearance
 forced him to go  to Sharks' Cove instead, where he  was to meet Deven
 and look for her. Kera asked him to take her along, but he told her to
 stay and practice, insisting that going  to war would be too dangerous
 for her.
      "When  your training  is complete..."  she remembered  his strong
 hand under her chin. "I fear for your safety."
      "Then what's the point of being your squire if you hide me behind
 stone walls?"
      "I  want you  to be  the best  that you  can --  better than  the
 soldiers who you'd  have to face. I  want you to have  a better chance
 than they."
      "You make it so difficult," Kera whispered.
      "I'd rather  not go  looking for  you as well  as for  Adrea," he
 insisted. "Take care."
      Kera embraced him, trying to burn the feeling of holding onto him
 into  her mind.  The  stable attendant  who held  on  to Rien's  horse
 politely turned  away. Rien  put his arms  around Kera,  returning the
 embrace.
      "I have to go. I'm wasting time."
      "Be careful..."  Kera muttered. "Don't  make me come  looking for
 you."
      "I won't," Rien laughed. "I won't abandon you, I promise."
      They broke the embrace and Rien mounted his horse, a tall slender
 animal the Baron had given him.
      "Take care of Kelsey."
      "I will." Kera bit her tongue to force back tears.
      Three days were  not enough to get the tears  to stop. She paused
 in the  great hall, wiping  her face  and straightening her  hair, not
 having had  the chance to do  so after the practice.  Setting her jaw,
 Kera walked up to the door to the library and knocked.
      "Come," Baron  Dower's voice  sounded on the  other side  and she
 entered.
      The Baron stood over his desk, a large map before him, a stack of
 books, a bottle of ink and a straight edge nearby. The chandelier over
 the  desk, as  well as  two  heavy candelabras  illuminated his  work,
 casting a bright glow over the desk and the papers on it.
      "You sent for me, my Lord?" Kera asked.
      "Yes, please,  sit down, Kera,"  he said, making  measurements on
 the map on the  table. He was always informal with  her in private for
 some reason, just like he was with Rien.
      Kera sat down  across from the desk, watching the  Baron work. He
 looked  tired, worn  out.  A  distinct change  from  dinner the  night
 before.
      Finishing with  the measurements, he  sat down as well.  "Kera, I
 need you to do me a favor." He shifted and pushed a stack of books out
 of the way so they could see each other. "I received the message I was
 waiting for  from Duke Glavenford  at noon. He,  although reluctantly,
 approved my plan to march on Gateway. I will be leaving to catch up to
 my troops tomorrow morning and I need you to do me a favor..."
      Kera started to answer, but the Baron did not stop.
      "...I want you to take Stefan to the Ducal Palace in Hawksbridge.
 Few guards  will stay  here after I  go and I  would feel  much better
 knowing my son is safe."
      Kera kept  looking at him  after he stopped so  abruptly, waiting
 for  him to  add  something else.  "Of course,  my  Lord," she  caught
 herself.
      "Good," the  Baron nodded. "Don't  tell him  what I told  you. He
 doesn't know I'm going to war. I've told him we will be picking up men
 in Narragan to add to the standing troops."
      "Of course, Sir. What should I do after I deliver him?"
      "Do? You'll  stay there. And  you will continue your  training in
 Hawksbridge."
      "What about Sir Keegan? How will he know where I am?"
      "I will leave word here. The servants and some guards will remain
 at the Keep -- I'm not abandoning it."
      "Yes, Sir."
      "Good." He picked up two letters from the desk and handed them to
 Kera. "This is your  letter of introduction to the Duke  and this is a
 letter for him. You and Stefan are to remain in Hawksbridge until sent
 for by  myself or  Rien. All my  letters are marked  with my  seal, so
 watch for it. And  having been with Rien for as long  as you have, I'm
 sure the two of you have an established method of communications."
      Kera nodded, although  she had no idea how she  would recognize a
 message sent by Rien.
      "All right, then. Any questions?"
      "Just directions, Sir."
      He  smiled, realizing  he missed  so  simple a  thing. "Take  the
 forest road  west. After you  exit the canyon,  it will join  a larger
 road. Take  the right branch, three  days, and it will  bring you into
 the  city. There  are signs  along the  way and,  besides, Stefan  has
 travelled it often  since he was a baby. He'll  give directions if you
 need them...and if you don't."
      Kera also smiled at that.
      "Go ahead  and clean up  for dinner," the Baron  said, indicating
 the conversation was over.
      Taking the two letters, Kera left the library and headed upstairs
 to her room to  get out of the armor and prepare  for dinner. She knew
 Baron Dower had  been waiting for word from the  Duke about taking the
 available regiments to Gateway. He sent the message to Hawksbridge the
 same morning  Rien left for Sharks'  Cove and a three  day turn around
 time was rather spectacular for what  was normally a three day one way
 trip.
      In the morning  she would take the Baron's son  to the Ducal seat
 and the Baron  would join his troops  on the way to war,  the same war
 Rien left for only days before. It  scared her to think about the war,
 about the unchecked  slaughter of people as the two  sides fought over
 stretches of land no one would think about twice in time of peace.
      She leaned  on the  window sill, looking  south towards  the dark
 green  forest  stretching beyond  the  keep  walls  and the  peaks  of
 mountains on  the other  side of  the valley,  that the  forest leaned
 against. Where  was Rien?  Somewhere in those  mountains by  now? When
 they left Sharks' Cove in late  spring, they travelled as close to the
 mountains as  they could, so  she could see  the snow in  their peaks,
 present even in the summer. Kera ran  her hand over her eye, trying to
 prevent its watering from becoming a tear. Summer snow was not unknown
 to Rien, but it was something she  had never seen before and so simple
 a gesture as going  a couple of days out of their way,  meant a lot to
 her.
      Somewhere out there, in the mountains to the southwest, Rien made
 his way towards Sharks' Cove, to  find out what happened to Adrea. And
 somewhere, not  far behind him,  marched three regiments  of soldiers,
 heading  for  Gateway,  to  fight  the Beinison  army  that  no  doubt
 outnumbered them four to one. Kiyan Kanne was with those troops, ready
 to become a hero.
      "In a way I'm glad I'm not going," Kera sighed. "I don't know how
 I would handle it."
      "First kill  is a hard  thing," Kiyan answered. "Then  you become
 cold about taking a life."
      "I know," Kera said. "I've killed before..."
      Kiyan  turned to  face her.  "I feel  there's a  past you're  not
 telling me about," he commented and quickly looked away.
      "There's a past I'm trying to forget," Kera responded, slowly and
 cautiously. "...and I'm not quite ready  to fight new opponents to the
 death just yet."
      "I'm glad you'll be here,  where it's safe," Kiyan answered. "I'd
 be afraid for you if I knew  you were there with the army...and that's
 one less person I'd have to out do to become a hero."
      An abrupt laugh slipped from Kera's lips.
      "You don't think I can do it?"
      "I think you're taking it too seriously."
      "Yeah?"
      "Yeah," she smiled. "It's a bit much to win a war singlehanded."
      "But's it's a goal to aim for."
      "It is that."
      Kiyan bent  down, and  pulling a  fresh pale  blue Iris  from the
 lawn, handed it to Kera. "Hold on to this until I come back."
      "It'll..."
      He kissed her  before she could respond and  disappeared into the
 barracks. The next morning, the troops left at the crack of dawn.
      Kera ran her  fingers over the still fresh Iris,  standing on the
 window sill  in a cup,  wiping the moisture from  her eyes off  on the
 delicate petals. Each  time it seemed that her problems  were about to
 lessen their grip on her, something  new would cause a conflict in her
 life. Something there  was no way to predict and  something that could
 not be avoided.
      Quickly  changing into  a clean  set of  clothes, Kera  went down
 stairs. Life  had to go on,  no matter what challenges  it would throw
 her way.
      "...grain ready for harvest, we're  bowing to the damned Benosian
 army!" a deep voice declared as she entered the great hall.
      "Now,  Clev,  you  know  we have  more  uncommitted  forces  than
 Beinison," the  Baron's calm voice  answered. "We're fighting  for our
 lands, with people who live on these lands. We'll take them back."
      "But before we take it back, we  have to look at us as a country,
 at our losses, our morale, our..." Noticing Kera, he stopped and stood
 up.
      The other three  men at the table did likewise,  as has been done
 the past two nights, them being a  small group and Kera being the only
 woman dining with them.
      "Please," she smiled, embarrassed. "You  don't have to do this...
 I'm sorry I'm  late." She took her seat on  Sir Hardin's right, across
 from Sir Brand.  The Baron sat at  the head of the  table, between his
 son and Sir Hardin.
      The men sat back down as a  servant hurried to place a warm plate
 before Kera.
      "Looks like you'll escape having  to practice with me," Sir Brand
 said to Kera.
      "I can't say  I'm disappointed, my Lord,"  Kera answered. "You've
 been working me much harder than Sir Bonhan."
      "You have  to understand Ariam  is much more zealous,"  the Baron
 laughed. "He knows  he has little time,  so he wishes to  see a marked
 improvement over the training you have received so far."
      The others at the table laughed.
      "This reminds me," Sir Hardin said thoughtfully. "I took a squire
 soon after I was knighted, a bright young lad. You might remember him,
 Rev -- Alaman Helvik. His father was your father's scribe..."
      "Yes, yes," the Baron nodded.
      "He was  a frail little thing,  but Lord Gregor said  I must take
 him, as  a favor to him  and his father, and  so I did." He  paused to
 take a bite from  a leg of mutton and wash it down  with ale. "The boy
 was so  zealous to learn to  be a knight,  he broke both arms  when he
 fell off a  horse the very first  day. He became a  scribe after that,
 just like his father..."
      The Baron chuckled over his food.  "And it took you five years to
 select a new squire after that,  one that wouldn't `break' on you." He
 paused and added in  a more somber tone, "I always  felt sorry for him
 over that. He wanted to be a knight so much, but he really wasn't made
 for it."
      "Then there  was Albert Targ, who  you took as your  squire," Sir
 Hardin laughed.  He turned  to Stefan,  the Baron's  son, to  tell the
 story. "A  large lad, built like  Sir Bonham, but much  taller. Bigger
 than either your father or I were  at the time. The lad lasted a whole
 week, then  one morning I'm  woken up by your  father and he  tells me
 Targ ran off.
      "Now, we entertained rather late the  night before, so I tell him
 to stop bothering me and turn over..."
      "I drug him out of bed screaming and kicking," the Baron laughed.
      "...and he  tells me  his mother's best  silverware is  gone with
 that rogue!"
      Stefan looked at his father. "Silverware?"
      "Your grandmother's pride  and joy -- her parents gave  it to her
 for a wedding present -- a fine, almost pure alloy from Othuldane."
      Sir Hardin laughed. "So like two  fools we dress and saddle up in
 the middle  of the  night to  go look  for a  thief. Snow's  hip deep,
 wolves  are freezing  in mid  run and  we're out  there looking  for a
 thief."
      "Did you find him?" the boy asked.
      "No,"  the Baron  shook  his head.  "Spent a  week  in the  cold,
 knowing we  lost him, but  afraid to come home.  I knew how  dearly my
 mother loved that silverware..."
      "So what happened?"
      The Baron looked  at Sir Hardin and the knight  nodded. "Well, we
 came back a week later and my father calls us to his study and says if
 we want to go wenching, the least we can do is leave him a message. He
 doesn't say  a word  about the  silverware, so Clev  and I  keep quiet
 about it.
      "That evening,  at dinner,  the servants bring  the roast  on the
 silver platter. Turns out guests were expected earlier in the week and
 mother sent the dishes to the smithy to be polished."
      Sir Brand chuckled. "What punishment."
      "What about Albert Targ, father?" Stefan asked.
      "I worked  the boy so  hard, he ran back  home to farm  wheat and
 never looked back."
      Sir Hardin let out a hearty laugh. "So she could be leaving under
 worse circumstances," he warned Sir Brand.
      "Having broken things and stollen silverware?" Kera smiled.
      "You broke  three shields in  two days," Sir Brand  reminded her.
 "That's a rather impressive number, considering they're made of oak."
      Kera blushed and hid  her face behind a mug of  ale, taking a log
 sip in the process.
      "Three oak  shields?" the Baron asked.  "Quite an accomplishment.
 How has your progress been?"
      The servants started replacing the empty dishes with desert.
      "All right,  I suppose. I'm  really not the  one to judge  my own
 skills, Sir."
      "Ariam?"
      "Quite fine, although  she needs to learn to  be more comfortable
 with the  blade, learn the finesse  of using the weapon.  We made good
 progress on feints and breaking binds."
      "Pardon my bluntness, my Lord,"  Kera said, "but I feel perfectly
 comfortable with  my weapon. It's  fighting with someone  more skilled
 that troubles me."
      "Troubles me, too,  my girl," Sir Hardin  muttered, "troubles me,
 too."
      "It is the  only way to learn," Sir Brand  insisted. "You have to
 stretch yourself so you may reach."
      "Talking about stretching," the Baron  said, "I want you to leave
 for  Hawksbridge  as  early  as   possible  tomorrow  --  right  after
 breakfast, so  act accordingly. And that  goes for you as  well, young
 man," he tuned  to his son. "And  stay out of trouble  while I'm gone,
 understood? Do everything Kera tells you."
      "Yes, Sir," the boy answered.
      After  dinner Kera  went  for  a walk  in  the keep's  courtyard,
 relaxing in the cool evening breeze.  In the morning she would have to
 accept a  new responsibility,  perhaps the greatest  one she  was ever
 given. She considered  how long she may have to  remain in Hawksbridge
 and what she would need to take with her. It may be a short trip, or a
 very long  one. But then Valdasly  would be three days  away, possibly
 less on Hasina, so she could always return.
      When she went back into the  keep, Baron Dower stopped her in the
 great hall. "One last thing, Kera," he said. "I have one more thing to
 give you to take to Hawksbridge."
      She  followed him  to the  library where  he handed  her a  thick
 envelope, with a large wax seal holding it shut.
      "My will,"  he explained.  "A duplicate will  remain here  in the
 keep, and I want  you to give this one to the  Duke's archivist. It is
 to be opened only on my verified death."
      "Sir..."
      "I'm not  going to Gateway  to die,"  he interrupted Kera.  "I am
 going to save Baranur, but we must  always be prepared. Give it to the
 archivist."
      "My prayers will be with you, Sir," she accepted the parchment.
      "Thank you, Kera. Good night."

                    *          *          *

      In the morning Kera got up  much earlier than any of the previous
 mornings  and went  for her  daily run.  She spent  the last  few days
 running in the  meadow or up the canyon leading  away from the forest,
 but  on this,  her last  morning at  Valdasly, she  decided to  run by
 Charnelwood, towards the  village on the other side of  the valley. It
 was still dark  when she made it  to the point where she  and Rien had
 stopped on  their very first  run together.  She paused there,  at the
 edge of the road,  looking into the forest. For the  first time in her
 ten days  in Valdasly, she could  feel something from the  forest. She
 took a few steps off the road,  closer to the tree line, to see better
 into the darkness of trees. For an  instant she though she could see a
 light in the distance, floating in the darkness between the trees.
      "Who are you?!"
      The sensation  quickly faded,  leaving an  empty feeling  and the
 giant towering  trees menacingly  standing over  her. She  hesitated a
 moment longer,  then hurried  back to  the road and  back to  the keep
 itself.
      All the way back  she could not help but wonder  what it was that
 she sensed.  Was the  forest really  alive, like  Rien said?  Could it
 really watch those who passed by  it? Kera shrugged the chill that her
 thoughts  had brought  on.  She  was there,  in  the  forest, saw  its
 inhabitants. There were people living in those woods, people much like
 Rien, who took comfort in the seclusion the dense forest provided.
      It was  light when Kera returned  to the keep, the  sun just high
 enough to  shine its first  beams over the  top of the  eastern range,
 bathing the  valley in  a comfortable  yellow light.  She ate  a quick
 breakfast and packed  what little she would be taking  with her -- the
 sword, the  bow Rien  purchased for  her, the  armor Enneth  made some
 months before and some clothes.
      Once packed and ready to go,  Kera took her things to the stables
 and then called on the Baron in the library.
      "Come," Baron Dower's voice sounded after a long wait.
      Kera entered  the room. The  Baron sat  behind his desk,  maps no
 longer on the table. Before him sat  Stefan and Sir Brand stood by the
 window. Kera greeted the men.
      "Are you ready?" the Baron asked.
      "Yes, your Lordship."
      "Good. Stefan, get your things. Meet us at the stables."
      "Yes, Sir," the boy got up and left the library.
      "Kera?"
      "Your Lordship?"
      "Any questions?"
      "No, Sir."
      "Any concerns?"
      She shook  her head. "It's  a great responsibility, Sir.  I won't
 let you down."
      "Very  good," he  nodded. "Don't  let Stefan  boss you  around. I
 warned  him  not  to  already.   Take  charge  and  follow  your  best
 judgement."
      "Yes, Sir." She wondered if he  would say these things if he knew
 of her past in Dargon.
      The  Baron turned  to Sir  Brand. "How  soon are  we going  to be
 ready?"
      "As soon as you are, Sir. I saw to the horses myself and servants
 were readying the armor."
      "Will old Ealhfrit be ready?"
      "Your guess is as good as mine, my Lord," the knight laughed.
      "Check on him while I see Stefan off," the Baron stood up.
      "Yes, Sir." He made a few steps towards Kera. "I wanted to..."
      "I forgot about  that," the Baron interrupted. "You two  go on to
 the stables. I'll remind Ealhfrit. Wait for me."
      "What is it?" Kera asked the knight.
      "It's nothing  serious," he  answered as  they left  the library.
 "Just  something  to  make  things right.  There  was  no  opportunity
 before."  He handed  her a  palm-sized box.  "This is  a chain  of the
 order. Wear it around your neck so  Knights of the Stone will know who
 you are."
      "What? What order? Knights of the Stone?"
      "I  guess Sir  Keegan  had no  time to  explain  the politics  of
 knighthood to  you. Knights  in Baranur are  broken into  orders. Each
 order was started ages ago by  various Houses of Baranur. The House of
 Arvalia, led by Duke Bargine, established  the Order of the Knights of
 the Stone, in honor of his  father, Duke Bayder the Second, also known
 as Bayder the Stone, for  his charming personality. There are painting
 of them  in the  gallery upstairs.  All squires of  the order  and all
 knighted by it wear the chain and pendant to show membership."
      Sir Brand reached inside his tunic and pulled his chain out as an
 example. "This may or  may not help you in your  journeys, but it will
 give you identity and a history...and it's a tradition."
      Kera opened the box and took a look at the chain. It was thin, of
 fine workmanship, with silver links and a stone tear. "I've never seen
 Sir Keegan wear anything like this," she commented.
      "I have," Sir Brand said. "It's your identity with us."
      "Thank you."
      They entered the stables and Kera double-checked the equipment on
 Hasina, as  well as tack,  harness and saddle,  then did the  same for
 Kelsey.
      "How soon  will you be  at Gateway?" she  asked Sir Brand  as she
 worked.
      "A month, I suppose. Maybe mid-Sy, if we're lucky."
      "What do you think you'll find?"
      "A war. I know we'll find a war." He fell silent as Stefan walked
 in, followed by the Baron.
      "Everything ready?"
      "Yes, my Lord."
      "I'm not  ready," Stefan complained.  He went to check  his horse
 and Kera led the two thundersteeds out of the stables.
      "You're taking Kelsey also?" the Baron asked.
      "Sir Keegan asked me to keep an eye on her," Kera said. "Can't do
 it if she's here."
      Baron Dower chuckled.  "Hope he keeps half as good  an eye on the
 horse I gave him."
      "I'm sure he will, Sir."
      Stefan  came  out  of  the stables,  leading  his  chestnut-brown
 stallion, with a white steak diagonally  across the neck. "I guess I'm
 ready."
      "Stefan," the Baron  addressed him, "I know  you're practically a
 man, but I want you to listen to the Duke and to Kera and do what they
 say. I don't know  how long I'll be in Narragan or  where I'll go from
 there, but I will write you as often as I can."
      The boy embraced his father. "I'll make you proud."
      "I know you will," the Baron tousled his hair.
      "Would you like  to ride Sir Keegan's horse?" Kera  asked the boy
 when he was ready to go.
      Stefan looked at his father and the Baron nodded.
      "Yes."
      "Mount up, then!"
      Sir  Brand took  hold of  Hasina's reins  while Kera  mounted her
 horse. "Thank  you, Sir Brand," she  told him. "And good  luck in your
 mission."
      "Thank you, Kera," he handed the reins to her.
      The Baron  helped his  son mount Kelsey.  "Remember to  visit the
 crypt in Hawksbridge, Stefan. Lay flowers  for you mother and tell her
 I wish I could come."
      "Yes, Sir," the boy promised.
      "And take care. Write often."
      The boy nodded somberly.
      The Baron walked over to Kera, putting one hand on Hasina's neck.
 "Take good care of Stefan."
      "I will, Sir. May Sevelin help you on your quest."
      "Sevelin?" the Baron asked, puzzled, "the god of magic?"
      "He helped me, Sir. I think he helps everybody."
      ReVell Dower released a hearty laugh. "Have a good journey!"
      Kera kicked Hasina into motion, followed by Stefan and Kelsey and
 Stefan's horse. The boy  paused at the gates of the  keep and waved to
 his father. The Baron waved back.

                   *          *          *

      "My Lord?" Sir Brand asked as the Baron sighed.
      "I worry about my son, Ariam. I may never see him again..."
      "I  worry about  Kera,  my Lord.  She is  a  young woman,  alone,
 charged with the  protection of the boy. I hope  her courage and skill
 remain untested."
      "Before he left, Rien told me  about where she's from and how she
 lived,"  the Baron  said.  "I'm  not worried  about  her courage.  I'm
 worried I may not return to tell my son the truth of where I went..."
      "We must have hope, Sir."
      "I do. I hope Baranur wins this damn war. I hope this is as close
 as my son ever comes to being  in one." The Baron turned away from the
 keep gates,  realizing he will  not be seeing  his son any  time soon.
 "Lord Ealhfrit is ready. Assemble the men. We'll leave in a bell."

                   *          *          *

      Stefan Dower  remained quiet for  a very  long time after  he and
 Kera  left  Valdasly Keep.  Kera  watched  his somber  expression  and
 wondered how  to strike up a  conversation to distract him,  but could
 not think  of what  she should say.  It was many  years since  she was
 fifteen and her worries were not of living in the Ducal Palace at that
 age. She was more worried of rotting under one. She had to be adult at
 that age, know what risks to take and  how to take them. She had to be
 self-sufficient and self-reliant. And she had to steal to survive.
      "Kera?" Stefan caught up to her, having fallen a little behind as
 they rode.
      "Yes?"
      "Tell me the truth."
      "The truth?" she asked. "About what?"
      "My father. He's going to war, isn't he?"
      "Stefan... What gives you that idea?"
      "I know my father."
      "I'm not privileged to know some things," Kera tried to avoid the
 question.
      "But you're not saying `no'."
      "I'm..." She sighed.
      "He is, isn't he? Tell me. I won't turn back."
      "I promised I wouldn't say a word," she uttered.
      "But you're not denying that he's not going to Narragan?"
      "No,  I'm  not.  He's  doing  what  he  feels  right,  what  Duke
 Glavenford thinks is the right thing to do."
      Stefan sighed. "I wish he'd have told me the truth."
      "He loves you. He doesn't want you to worry."
      "I'm his son. I have to worry."
      "He'll come back in the fall,  I'm sure," Kera said. "Don't worry
 yourself. Why don't you tell  me about Hawksbridge instead? I've never
 been there."
      Stefan fell  quiet for a while,  giving Kelsey a chance  to start
 falling  back, but  then caught  up again.  "I guess  you're right  --
 there's no use worrying about what can't be helped.
      "Hawksbridge  is pretty  old. The  castle was  built about  three
 hundred years  ago, but the city  is probably five hundred  years old.
 It's  in the  plains on  the other  side of  the mountains.  It's very
 beautiful. On a clear day you can see all the way to the mountains..."
 Stefan thought for a moment.
      "The  castle was  built on  the  east bank  of the  river Ty,  to
 protect the  kingdom from the  barbarians on this side...and  from the
 evil spirits...."
      "Evil spirits?"
      The boy laughed. "The peasants say demons live in Charnelwood. No
 one ever  goes there. It's  a very dangerous  place. I remember  a few
 years ago  some children  from the  village went  into the  forest and
 never returned.  And no one went  to look for them,  either. Every one
 was afraid that the demons took them."
      "Do you believe they're real?" Kera asked.
      "The spirits? Of course! Everyone  knows there are spirits there.
 They're older than Arvalia!"
      "Have you ever seen them?" Kera asked. She couldn't help but vent
 the urge to pull his leg.
      "No. They stay in Charnelwood."
      "Then if you've never seen one, how do you know they're real?"
      "Have you ever seen a Benosian?"
      "No," Kera shook her head.
      "Then how do you know they're real?"
      "Word of mouth?"
      "Well...?" Stefan answered, victoriously.
      "I guess  I had  that coming,"  Kera laughed.  "But I'm  sure the
 people  living  on  the  Beinison  boarder  will  swear  they've  seen
 Benosians."

                   *          *          *

      Shortly before sunset  Kera and Stefan made their way  to a small
 village in the  mountains, at the crossroads where  they were supposed
 to turn southeast.
      "I guess  we're making good  time, since  we made it  here before
 sundown," Kera commented.
      A  stream ran  on  the  north side  of  the  crossroads and  Kera
 dismounted  Hasina,  letting  her   quench  her  thirst.  Stefan  also
 dismounted and soon all three horses were in the middle of the stream.
      "There's a lake up that  way," Stefan pointed north. "It's locked
 between mountains, about a league north of here. It's very hard to get
 to,  but very  beautiful. My  father hunts  there every  summer. Every
 summer except this one..."
      "You two will go there, again. As  soon as the war is over," Kera
 assured him.
      He nodded.  "It's very  quiet there, just  birds and  the beavers
 that dammed up the river... And north of that is a valley full of wild
 game."
      "Maybe if  the Duke doesn't have  a problem with it,  someone can
 take you here this summer," Kera offered.
      "Maybe," Stefan agreed.
      "Is there an inn here?"
      "There's one  down the road. It's  not a very good  one, but it's
 the only one in the village."
      "Then we'll have to make the most of it," Kera said. "Come on."
      They got their horses and walked down the road to the inn.
      "We  need two  rooms," Kera  told  the innkeeper  once they  were
 inside. "And we need stabling for three horses."
      "Are there three of you?" the man asked.
      "There are three horses. Two of us."
      "Kill someone on the way?" the man laughed.
      "Yes,"  Kera answered,  annoyed at  his nosiness  and the  stupid
 laugh.
      "Well, here you go. Two keys, two rooms, two Rounds."
      "Two Rounds,"  Kera placed two  silver coins on the  counter. "Do
 you serve dinner?"
      "Yes, we do."
      "Do you want to eat here?" she asked Stefan.
      "It's fifteen  leagues to  the next  village," he  answered. "And
 this is the only inn and tavern here."
      "All right,  we'll eat here," she  agreed and turned back  to the
 innkeeper. "There  are three  horses outside. You  can't miss  them. I
 want them stabled, fed and brushed down."
      "That'll be another fifteen Bits, five a horse."
      Kera put another Round on the  counter. "I expect to find them in
 VERY good shape tomorrow morning."
      "You'll find them in great shape, missy."
      Kera set her jaw,  but did not answer the man.  There was no need
 to pick  a fight. They would  only be staying here  overnight. She and
 Stefan went upstairs  to leave their things it their  rooms, then came
 back to the common room downstairs to eat. It was dark outside by this
 time  and  the   tavern  was  partially  full,   mostly  populated  by
 middle-aged  men, drinking  and laughing  and complaining  about their
 wives.
      "How about right here?" Kera indicated to an out of the way table
 by the wall.
      "Sure," Stefan agreed. He waited for Kera to select a chair, then
 helped her with it.
      "Stefan, I  don't want you doing  that again," Kera said  after a
 moment's hesitation.
      "Why not?" he sat down across from her.
      "Because of your  social rank and because of my  goals for myself
 and...and because I'm not a cripple and can do it myself."
      "Then perhaps you should start  addressing me correctly, too," he
 said caustically.
      "I don't  think so," Kera  answered in mocking serious  tones and
 Stefan laughed.
      "I thought I'd be a gentleman and show some chivalry."
      "I  appreciate the  gesture  -- it  was very  sweet  -- but  also
 inappropriate and it's something I'm not used to."
      "All right," Stefan agreed. "If you insist."
      "Forcibly, if I have to."
      A lanky wench  came over to the table. "All  right, you two, make
 it short. What do you want?"
      "You first," Stefan  said and Kera decided not to  argue with him
 again.
      "What have you got?"
      "Dinner special  is five  Bits. Chicken,  duck or  mutton. Turkey
 will cost  you six, pheasant is  seven. Ribs and beef  are seven Bits,
 venison is nine. We have stew and soup, for three Bits a cup."
      "Turkey sounds good," Kera said.
      "Turkey," Stefan agreed.
      "Ale, mead, wine," the wench went  on. "Milk?" she glanced at the
 Baron's son.
      "Milk," Kera said.
      Stefan looked at her and set his jaw. "Water."
      "Cost you the same," the wench warned.
      "Water," he repeated.
      "And bring us a bowl of fruit," Kera instructed.
      The serving girl left and Kera looked at Stefan. "Milk?"
      "Men don't drink milk."
      "You're one of those..."
      "I have to be in public," Stefan said. "And this past year father
 has been having me drink ale and  mead at functions, as well. I am the
 next Baron, after all."
      "You can drink what ever you want once we get to Hawksbridge, but
 on the road stick to milk and water," Kera said.
      "Water. Men don't drink milk."
      "So I've heard."
      "Kera," Stefan  said, "I  told you  about Hawksbridge.  Would you
 tell me a little about Dargon?"
      "Dargon..." It  seemed worlds  away. "Dargon's  a small  place. I
 didn't think of it this way before,  but I've seen a little of Baranur
 now. It's a beautiful city, if you  stay in the right part of town and
 don't go outside  after dark." She chuckled,  remembering. "It's home.
 Dirt and misery and bandits -- I'm still from there."
      The serving  girl came back,  placing bread, cheese and  milk and
 water on the table.  "That'll be eighteen Bits as soon  as I bring the
 rest of it," she warned.
      "The new  part of the city  is the most beautiful,"  Kera went on
 once they were left alone. "That's  where Dargon Keep if built. It was
 built on  top of  some old ruins,  so in some  places the  streets are
 very, very old. Some say a thousand or two thousand years old, but the
 town of Dargon is just over two  centuries and the new part isn't even
 a hundred years old...
      "There's a  port that  spans the  length of  the beach,  too. And
 during the summer the water..."
      "Kera," Stefan interrupted her, tilting his head to the side.
      Kera turned,  just in  time to see  a large man  sit down  at the
 table by her. "Kid bothering you?" he asked.
      A second man sat on her other side. "We can make him go away."
      "Aw, look, milk," the first man said.
      Kera held her breath not to gag at the stench of liquor.
      "The boy's just having water," the other one said.
      "What,  boy,  ale? No  milk?  Or  do  you  drink hers?"  the  man
 indicated to Kera.
      "I think that's quite enough," Kera stood up.
      "Aw, come  on, spend the  night with  me," the drunk  advanced on
 her. "What has he got that I don't?"
      "Manners."
      "Har, har," the drunk choked, backing Kera against the wall.
      "We're not interested," she warned. "Leave."
      "We're interested," the second  man towered behind his companion.
 "So why don't you  send the boy to bed and we'll  find another one for
 you."
      Kera looked around. The other patrons had moved further back, the
 nearest few tables being abandoned  with unfinished meals. Neither the
 innkeeper, nor the serving wench were anywhere to be seen.
      "I  think you  should  go,"  Kera repeated.  "We  don't want  any
 trouble."
      "Trouble?" the drunk laughed. "We don't want it either!"
      Kera drew  her dragger  and swung  it across  the man's  gut. The
 blade skipped across the tough hauberk  and bit into his arm, throwing
 a bloody streak across the wall.
      "Bitch!"
      Her  fist, reinforced  by  the dagger  hilt,  impacted the  man's
 stomach, making  him double over and  with a final swing,  she planted
 the base of the hilt into the back of his head, making him drop.
      The second man stood stunned  for a moment, then advanced towards
 her, fumbling with the dagger at his belt.
      "Leave 'er alone!" Stefan yelled,  grabbing the water pitcher off
 the table and swinging it at  the man. The wood vessel crashed against
 the drunk's head, splintering and spilling water. The man stumbled and
 fell as well.
      "Go, go," the  innkeeper rushed up to them. He  blotted the water
 and blood on the table. "Go, before they figure out what hit 'em. I'll
 have the meals sent up to your rooms."

                   *          *          *

      Kera stretched  in bed, savoring  the warmth of the  old blanket.
 The black  of the  night slowly dissolved  into reddish  hues, forming
 outlines of the furniture. Was it time  to get up? She sat up, holding
 the blanket  tightly around her  shoulders. The night air  was chilly,
 even colder than the drafty old castle she had been staying at.
      Outside  something creaked,  the  sound of  a  rusty wheel  joint
 turning. A  whip snapped, followed  by a "move  it, you old  nag." The
 whip snapped again.
      Was that a thud that woke her up a few moments before? Kera could
 not remember.  She got up,  with the blanket,  and walked over  to the
 window, to look  out, but by the time she  pushed the latched shutters
 open, the road past the stables was empty.
      "Damn." It was  the middle of the night, the  eastern sky showing
 no evidence  of morning light. "Like  I've got nothing better  to do."
 She returned to  the bed and fell  on it in a tangle  of blankets, but
 for some reason sleep had already left her for the night.
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------
1                        Love an Adventure
                              Part Two
                        by David/Orny Liscomb
          (b.c.k.a <jjmhome!wonky!ornoth@transfer.stratus.com>)

 *             This story is intended for mature readers, and          *
 *        may not be suitable for all audiences. Although this         *
 *        story was not written as erotica, it does contain            *
 *        explicit depictions of sex and other adult themes            *
 *        that some readers may find distasteful or morally            *
 *        offensive.                                                   *

      The afternoon  sun was hot and  bright overhead as Dale  made his
 way across the hayfield outside Dargon.  In the distance he could hear
 the voices of  the people practicing at the archery  range, but he was
 too busy thinking about the events of the day to pay much attention.
      Just this morning  he'd been sitting, transcribing  a history for
 his father, wishing  something interesting would happen  for a change.
 Now it seemed so far away!
      He had decided  to go visit his friend, Simon  the stew merchant,
 but the old sailor had told him something that Dale was only beginning
 to understand. He'd said that you  didn't have to travel the world and
 rescue princesses in order to find adventure. Adventure was just doing
 something  that  you'd never  done  before,  and  the old  seaman  had
 insisted  that  there   were  plenty  of  interesting   things  to  be
 experienced right in Dargon.
      Dale had been skeptical, but Simon had convinced him to try doing
 something small but new, like visit a fortune teller. So Dale had gone
 to see Zavut the seer, and it actually had been kind of fun. Zavut had
 told him  that the  young man's  future included  a new  approach, new
 friends, overindulgence, and resolution. It didn't make a whole lot of
 sense, but it had been fun.
      As he  left Zavut' booth,  Dale spotted  Erica, a girl  he liked,
 listening to the  music outside Jenzun's shop. In  his newfound spirit
 of adventure,  he had decided  to talk to her.  She invited him  to go
 swimming with a bunch of friends  at a nearby quarry, and although the
 quarry was off limits to kids, Dale told her he'd go.
      It had  sounded like a  grand adventure at  the time, but  now he
 wasn't  quite so  sure. He'd  heard of  kids getting  hurt out  at the
 quarry  -- it  really wasn't  a safe  place. And  although the  quarry
 sounded like a fun  place to swim, he wondered what  the kids who went
 out there did. Would someone dare him  to jump into the water from one
 of the  ledges? And the  kids who went out  to the quarry  always hung
 around in  their own  little group.  They seemed  a little  strange to
 Dale, and  with each step he  became more and more  uncomfortable with
 the  whole idea.  But somehow  he kept  walking, and  the path  he was
 following  eventually came  through  a  stand of  aspen  and  up to  a
 clearing overlooking the quarry.
      "Dale!" Erica came  bounding up to his side and  hugged him. Dale
 didn't quite  know how to  respond. He looked helplessly  over Erica's
 shoulder at  the handful of  other teens  who were watching  them with
 bemused expressions. Erica  sure felt good in his  arms, though! After
 several moments she broke the embrace and took him by the hand. "Isn't
 it beautiful?"
      Dale  took in  the area.  The kids  were sitting  in a  clearing,
 shaded by the aspens he had passed through. A little ways away was the
 lip of the quarry,  and forty feet down, the lake  that had filled it.
 Ledges from  ten to seventy  feet high  surrounded the lake.  A little
 further away Dale  could see the current quarry that  had been started
 when this one was abandoned. And between them stood an immense pile of
 broken granite blocks, some as big as a wagon!
      Erica followed his gaze. "That's the Chasm. It's full of half-cut
 stone that wasn't cut right." She  turned him around. "Come on, I have
 to introduce you to everyone."
      They walked  down into the  clearing and joined the  others. Dale
 felt  a little  uncomfortable. "You  don't have  to introduce  me," he
 whispered. "I know most of these kids."
      Erica smiled at him, as if  he understood nothing. "Yeah, but you
 don't know their  *real* names! Everyone here has a  secret name. When
 you've been here  a few times, you'll  get to make up  your real name,
 too. And remember, I'm not Erica. I'm Paws. Straight?"
      Dale was even more confused. A dubious "Yeah..."
      One young  woman was standing  apart from the  others, practicing
 with  a  hand-and-a-half  sword  that flashed  silver  in  the  bright
 sunlight. She  was very  dark-skinned, with  black hair  and beautiful
 dark brown eyes. Erica approached  her first. "Dale, this is Windsong.
 She's an artist." She smiled warmly and Dale returned her greeting.
      The three of them walked over to where the others were sitting on
 the ground. A heavy-set boy that  he knew was named Parker offered him
 a mug of liquid and a smile. "Hey, Dale. Drink up -- you'll be needing
 this later on!"
      Erica  -- or,  rather, Paws  --  nodded. "This  is Bearcub.  He's
 harmless," she  added as  she exchanged a  meaningful glance  with the
 boy. Unfortunately, Dale wasn't privy to the message. He took a sip of
 the drink, which tasted like bitter apple cider.
      Next, Paws  introduced Seagull,  a smiling  young man  with long,
 dirty blond  hair. Dale  knew that Seagull  was really  an innkeeper's
 son, but no more than that. Next to  him sat a boy that Dale knew from
 the classes his father, the scribe, had taught. Although Dale knew him
 as Baird, Paws introduced him as Webster.
      Dale sat down and quietly listened to the group chatter. Paws sat
 with him. After a few moments,  Windsong piped up. "Hey, let's go down
 and crawl around the Chasm!"
      Everyone jumped  up, and Paws helped  Dale up. Just as  they were
 about to leave, Paws scooped up Dale's half-full mug of cider from the
 ground and gave  it to him. "Hey,  boy. Finish this up  before we go."
 Dale shrugged and drained it.

      The walk down to the Chasm  was pleasant and warm. Walking behind
 Windsong, he noticed that she was limping, and occasionally leaning on
 Seagull for support. When he asked  Paws what was wrong, she told him,
 "Windsong's stubborn  as a cat. She  was running home a  fortnight ago
 and was  run down  by a  man on horseback,  and she  refuses to  see a
 healer." Hearing this, Windsong turned around and grinned in reply.
      After a short walk around the  lake, they reached the Chasm. Huge
 granite blocks and  boulders were piled forty feet  high. Dale thought
 it looked  like a great place  for a rockslide; but  Windsong, despite
 her  injury, hobbled  ahead of  everyone else  and leapt  up onto  the
 nearest  block. "First  one to  the top  gets the  prize!" The  others
 scrambled to follow.
      Hanging behind,  Dale looked skeptically  at Paws. "Is  it really
 safe to be climbing around up there?"
      She  smiled. "Yeah.  We've never  been able  to move  any of  the
 rocks, and we've tried. They don't shift at all. We've even named some
 of the  rocks and  the caves  underneath. Come on,  I'll show  you Fat
 Man's Misery..."
      Instead  of climbing  up the  outside of  the slag  pile, as  the
 others had done, Paws led Dale  to a small crevasse between the stones
 and into the base of the pile itself. They crawled on hands and knees,
 and made  their way slowly  inward. Eventually,  they came to  a small
 open area, where they flopped against the wall and rested.
      "This," Paws said between deep  breaths, "is the Cloak Room." The
 laughter of  the others could be  heard, but it sounded  very distant.
 Dale was pretty worked up, but he didn't know whether he was scared or
 just excited.  He tried not to  think about the tons  of rock balanced
 haphazardly just above his head. Despite his fatigue, he found Erica's
 heavy breathing  very erotic, and  tried to  gather the nerve  to kiss
 her. He wished he knew how to tell when a girl wanted to be kissed. It
 just wasn't fair that he had to  make the first move! Even though he'd
 never told her, she somehow ought to know that he liked her!
      Dale waited  too long,  and the  moment passed.  Paws got  up and
 disappeared into  a tall but very  thin fissure in the  opposite wall.
 "Coming?"
      Dale sighed  as he got  up and wedged  himself into the  two foot
 wide opening. The crevasse was no more than twelve feet deep. Paws was
 waiting for him at the other end. "Well," he asked, "now what?"
      "Watch this!" Paws  turned so that she was facing  him and jumped
 straight up.  At the top  of her jump, she  pushed her hands  and feet
 outward against the  walls, and stuck, suspended three  feet above the
 floor. "Follow me." With that, she started making her way straight up,
 alternately moving hands  and feet, but always  staying wedged against
 the  walls of  the  crevasse.  By the  time  Dale  had gotten  himself
 properly wedged, she was already fifteen  feet above him. "This is why
 we call it Fat  Man's Misery!" he heard her call as  he tried his best
 to keep up.
      Twenty feet  up, he  paused and  looked down.  This was  really a
 great  place! The  rock was  cold against  the warmth  of his  scuffed
 hands, and he could feel its  weight all around him. His leather boots
 couldn't get much purchase on the granite  face, so he put most of his
 weight  on his  arms.  Being a  scribe's son,  his  arms weren't  very
 strong, and they soon began to ache. His heart pounded in his chest in
 exhilaration.
      Paws' looked down at him. "It's easier if you scurry up -- if you
 stop, you won't get started again!"
      When  she  was  about  thirty  feet above  the  floor,  Dale  saw
 someone's hand pull her up and onto  a ledge out of sight. Then he saw
 her head poke out again. "How are you doing?"
      "I'm almost there." He pushed and clambered upward one more time,
 catching  the hairy  arm that  was waiting  to pull  him up.  Paws and
 Bearcub were standing on the ledge, and Dale could see sunlight on the
 boulders behind them.
      Dale got a bearhug. "Welcome to  the Tower!" Dale just panted and
 grinned. He followed the others as they picked their way to the top of
 the slag heap.  Everyone was sitting around, admiring the  view of the
 two quarries: the old quarry that had  filled in to form a small lake,
 and the new, active quarry on the other side.
      "So who won the race to the top?" Paws asked.
      "Bearcub  did,"  Seagull  snorted.  "He  jumped  a  span  that  I
 couldn't..."
      Dale wasn't  surprised -- Bearcub  was the biggest of  the bunch,
 and hadn't  had any trouble  hauling him  out of the  crevasse moments
 earlier. He looked at Windsong expectantly. "So what's the prize?"
      No one answered for a second,  and Dale got the feeling that he'd
 asked a bad question. Bearcub jumped in with, "It's a surprise."
      After another pause, Paws looked over  at Dale. "Whew. That was a
 lot of work,  and this sun is really hot."  Then, addressing the group
 as a whole, "Anyone for a swim?"
      Everyone thought that was a  wonderful idea, especially Dale, and
 they picked their way carefully down  to the quarry's edge and back to
 where  they had  gathered  before.  As soon  as  they  arrived at  the
 campsite, everyone started removing their clothes. Dale hesitated, but
 followed suit, patently  avoiding looking at anyone else.  By the time
 he was done,  everyone except he and  Paws were lined up  at the ledge
 overlooking the lake.
      Walking over to him, she said, "You sure take a long time getting
 undressed." He  tried to keep  from looking  directly at her,  but she
 caught him. "Why aren't you looking  at me? You really are too modest,
 Dale. Don't you think I'm pretty?"
      Dale had  been brought  up to  be polite,  and that  included not
 staring at  women. But Paws wanted  him to look, and  seemed amused by
 his behavior.  He fought  with himself and  looked. Her  long burgundy
 hair flowed over her shoulders and down her front, partially obscuring
 her breasts.  Between her legs was  a small triangle of  matching fur.
 Her hips  were cocked to  the side in an  suggestive pose, and  a hand
 idly twirled one  lock of hair. Dale  wasn't in much of  a position to
 judge how pretty she was -- he just wanted to touch her!
      "Dost thou like what thou dost see?" she teased.
      "Yes. You're beautiful!"
      "So  are you."  Dale had  forgotten his  own nudity  and blushed,
 subconsciously  turning  his  shoulder  toward her  in  modesty.  Dale
 couldn't  possibly think  of  himself as  "beautiful",  and it  really
 embarrassed him. Paws giggled, then  turned and bounded off toward the
 others. "Come on!"
      Everyone but Bearcub and Windsong were in the water when they got
 to the  ledge. Dale  noticed that Bearcub  had considerably  more body
 hair than  he did, which made  him kind of self-conscious.  But Dale's
 eyes lingered on Windsong's dark skin and muscular frame.
      "I guess it's my turn," said Bearcub as he walked a few feet back
 from the ledge.  Dale stood with the two women  and watched as Bearcub
 ran up to the edge of the cliff and jumped off, landing in the water a
 second later  with a big  splash. Dale walked  to the edge  and looked
 down; the  water was a  good thirty-five feet below  them. Apparently,
 being a quarry, it was deep enough to jump right in.
      He'd heard  stories about kids  who had gotten hurt  jumping into
 the quarry. That was why the adults didn't let the kids go there. Even
 though most  of the others had  gone before him, Dale  didn't like the
 idea very much.
      "Is this the only way to get in?" he asked.
      Windsong turned, looked him up  and down appraisingly and smiled,
 which  made Dale  feel really  self-conscious again.  "No. After  Paws
 dives in, we'll  go down to the  lowest ledge over the  water. With my
 knee the way it is, the  Evils," nodding toward the others, "won't let
 me jump  in from anywhere  else," she pouted.  She made it  sound like
 they were punishing her, rather than thinking of her safety. But after
 seeing  her aggressive  disregard for  her injury  at the  Chasm, Dale
 figured he sided with 'the Evils'.
      They watched as Paws got a  running start and dove in head first.
 Then Windsong leaned  on Dale and they climbed down  to a lower ledge.
 Dale really enjoyed  the feeling of having Windsong's  arm around him.
 And he  was very aware of  each time her naked  breast brushed against
 him,  although she  didn't seem  to notice  it at  all. When  they got
 there, Dale  wished that  the trip had  been considerably  longer. And
 that he  still had his  breeches on! Fortunately,  Windsong apparently
 hadn't noticed *that*, either.
      "Now, all you have to do is  jump in. And keep your hands at your
 side."
      Dale stood at the edge and  peered over. It was about twelve feet
 above the water. "Is it cold?"
      "It's beautiful!" Paws shouted to him from below. "Jump in!"
      Dale  composed himself.  He really  wasn't very  comfortable with
 heights, but he knew  that he was a very good  swimmer. He'd even done
 some diving off  the docks, but they were usually  not this high above
 the water. At  least here he was directly over  the water and wouldn't
 have to get a running start. He nervously took two steps and leapt out
 over the water.
      For a  moment it  seemed like  he was suspended  in air,  then he
 began to  fall. Time seemed  to have slowed  down, because he  had the
 time to look around him and see Paws and Bearcub treading water below,
 and  notice the  blueness of  the  sky and  the rugged  cliffs of  the
 quarry. He even  heard the call of  a gull over the rush  of air about
 his ears. Surely he'd been falling  much longer than Bearcub had taken
 when he jumped from the higher ledge!
      His feet slapped through the surface and his body drove deep into
 the water,  tickled by  a million  little air  bubbles as  they rushed
 upward. As he kicked and struggled  back to the surface, he thought he
 could hear Paws voice. He opened his  eyes and looked up at the cliffs
 of  the  quarry and  the  woods  around  them  from a  completely  new
 perspective.
      "That was great! Let's do it again!"
      Everyone  laughed, and  Paws showed  him  where to  climb up  the
 granite face to get  to the ledge where she and  the others had jumped
 from. Standing at the edge of the cliff, Dale could see that he'd have
 to get  a running start  in order to  clear another ledge  that jutted
 further out. He walked a few paces back from the edge and stood, ready
 to jump. His heart raced with excitement and a little fear. What if he
 slipped just as he jumped? What if he hit the water wrong? He couldn't
 even see where he was going to land!
      He willed  himself to take  the first  step, and suddenly  it was
 decided. He  couldn't turn  back now, lest  he seriously  hurt himself
 trying to  stop. He  took three  more strides before  he saw  the lake
 suddenly open up beneath him. His bare foot felt every grain of gravel
 on rock as he leapt out and over the water. Again, he hung momentarily
 suspended  above the  lake. Then  he  plunged downward  with his  arms
 outstretched  behind him  like the  wings  of a  gliding eagle  before
 pulling them  to his sides  as he impacted the  water. It took  a long
 time before his body stopped sinking, and  he had to swim quite a ways
 back to the surface.
      Dale continued jumping and  diving from several different ledges.
 He had never had such a wonderful time!

      But everyone eventually  tired of swimming, and  they headed back
 up to the encampment. Following Paws, Dale carefully picked his way up
 the granite  face. His skin tingled  as the water evaporated  from his
 nude body  in the warm summer  sun, and his eyes  followed Paws' ample
 form just in  front of him. Her hips swayed  and he would occasionally
 see  her  naked  breast  bobbing  as she  climbed,  her  nipples  very
 prominent after the cool swim. He felt compelled to touch her, to grab
 her and  make love to  her, but he tried  to keep his  desires hidden.
 Unfortunately, that wasn't so easy to do without breeches!
      Soon they reached the clearing where everyone had stripped before
 going down to swim. Before he could get to his clothes, Paws turned to
 face him, her deep brown eyes shining.
      "How did you like *that*?"
      Dale smiled, momentarily  fancying that she was  referring to the
 climb up. "That was really great.  Especially the cliff jumping -- I'd
 never done anything like that before... Thanks for inviting me to come
 along." Dale had certainly had a  wonderful adventure, and had lots to
 tell Simon the stew merchant next time he saw his old friend.
      Paws  returned his  smile and  took his  hand. "I've  got another
 surprise for you, too. Come on!"  She pulled him off towards the copse
 of aspen that stood nearby.
      "Um... Can I grab my clothes first?"
      "Dale! Don't  be so modest. Isn't  it better to feel  the sun and
 wind on your  skin?" She pirouetted in celebration,  and Dale wondered
 at her. He envied her sensuality --  he might feel the same joy as she
 felt, but if he showed it like that, people would laugh at him.
      Dale let himself be led down a  worn path that led around the top
 of the quarry and toward a small  pile of cut stone he'd seen earlier.
 Paws led him  past it, into another clearing that  contained a mass of
 undergrowth.
      "Look for a  plant with a big, orangey-red fruit.  We want one of
 them -- don't take any more, straight?"
      They rummaged  around the undergrowth for  several minutes before
 they  found a  plant that  had two  reddish fruit.  Paws sat  down and
 offered him one, waiting for him to bite into it.
      The rind was soft, and the pulp red and juicy. As he bit into it,
 the red juice ran  down his chin from both corners  of his mouth. Paws
 laughed. "That's just  the way you have to eat  it. It's rather messy,
 but that's okay..." She bit into it, and Dale watched as the juice ran
 sensuously down her chin and dripped  onto her naked chest. She slowly
 ran  her tongue  across  her lips,  and once  again  he found  himself
 suppressing the desire to kiss her.
      Dale took another  bite and savored the taste. It  was sweet, yet
 had a certain  bite to it. The  juice was warm, and he  could feel its
 heat  spreading through  his body  as  he swallowed.  "It's warm!"  he
 giggled.
      Paws laughed and nodded. He could see that it had the same effect
 on her; her face and chest were flushed a rosy pink.
      Dale  took another  lusty bite  and juice  squirted all  over his
 hands and in his lap. "Ummm... So what *is* this, anyways?"
      Paws smiled and fell into his arms. "Nightfruit..."
      Dale's eyes  opened wide.  Nightfruit? Nightfruit was  very rare,
 and  was usually  only  given  to newlyweds  on  their wedding  night!
 Everyone knew that it was supposed  to enhance desire. Dale could feel
 its warm  surge building  irresistibly. She'd tricked  him! But,  in a
 way, it had  been in the back  of his mind ever  since he'd approached
 her earlier that  afternoon at Jenzun's booth. And even  though he was
 torn between joy  and fear of what  might happen, she felt  so good in
 his arms...
      Erica  watched quietly  as these  thoughts rushed  through Dale's
 head. Then she reached up and kissed him; her soft, moist lips met his
 tenderly but irresistibly. They fell back into the undergrowth in each
 others' arms and began to make love.
      Dale's eyes closed as he focused  on each moist kiss. However, he
 was troubled  by the nagging  sense of responsibility that  his father
 had instilled  in him.  Was this  the right thing  to do?  Weren't you
 supposed to wait  until you were married? But he  also had friends who
 bragged about having made love. But  good boys didn't do these things.
 And he  also knew  girls who  had children at  his age...  He suddenly
 broke off and sat up. "What's wrong?" Erica asked him.
      "Well,  it's not  right... I  don't want  to take  the chance  of
 becoming a father."
      Erica caressed his  back and smiled. "Remember that  drink I told
 you  to finish?  That wasn't  just cider,  dear. You  won't be  making
 anyone pregnant for two whole days..." She smiled conspiratorially.
      Dale still  didn't feel quite  right about going forward.  He was
 still a little scared, even though he  didn't know why. As he tried to
 sort through his  indecision, Erica put her arms around  him and began
 lightly caressing the nape of his  neck. She brought her lips close to
 his ear. As she whispered to him, he could feel her warm breath on his
 neck. "Lover..."
      No one had ever  used that name for him, and it  sent a shiver of
 excitement down his spine. His  resistance crumbled like a sand castle
 before the  tide as Erica  pushed him down,  onto his back,  and began
 raining kisses  on his neck  and chest. Her  leg slid between  his and
 began grinding against his crotch. He  tried to match her motions with
 his hips as  he stared unfocusedly up into the  branches of the aspens
 above, lost in sensation. He  caressed Erica's back, then her buttocks
 as she  subtly guided  his hands  lower. His  hands explored  the soft
 warmth of her flesh  as her lips and tongue traced  the muscles of his
 chest.  Her kisses  made  their way  up  his neck  to  his chin,  then
 suddenly her lips found his, swarming over them urgently.
      With their lips locked, she sat up a little, supporting him as he
 followed.  She rolled  onto her  back and  Dale was  free to  take the
 active role. He began exploring her neck and shoulders with his lips.
      "Nibble..." she suggested, and he complied. Her hands pressed his
 lips into  her neck, silently encouraging  him to bite harder.  As her
 excitement became  more vocal,  Dale found  her reactions  feeding his
 enthusiasm. She  guided his lips  to the base  of her neck  and lower.
 Dale could taste  the sticky Nightfruit where it had  dripped onto her
 chest. He stopped  for a moment to admire her  breasts before he began
 to kiss them. Her reaction was a breathless "Yesssss..."
      As he continued, he began to grind his leg against her crotch, as
 she  had  done earlier.  Again,  she  responded enthusiastically,  her
 breath coming in short gasps. Then she brought his hand to her crotch.
 He began massaging her maidenhair, and registered surprise at how bony
 her pubic mound was.
      Then she guided his hand  lower. "Inside me..." she pleaded. Dale
 wasn't very comfortable with his knowledge  of what he was supposed to
 do, but he managed  to find his way around. He  slid his middle finger
 inside her nether lips, as her hips bucked to meet him. Inside, it was
 warm and  satiny-soft and  very wet,  and he felt  her tugging  at his
 finger. He closed his eyes and imagined  what it would feel like to be
 inside her.  Her hand  found his  manhood and  began stroking  it with
 long, forceful thrusts. He was completely lost in the sensations.
      Her closed eyes  opened and he could see the  desire in them. "Do
 you want me?"
      "Oh, yes!"  was all he  managed to get  out. She pushed  him back
 onto his  back, and straddled  him. Then  she took his  achingly erect
 manhood and  guided it to  her. She  hovered over him  an excruciating
 moment before impaling  herself upon him. The sudden  wet, satiny heat
 surrounding his  manhood felt so  incredibly good! Erica kept  him all
 the way  inside her  just for a  moment, then began  to move  back and
 forth. Dale  had never felt so  close to anyone before.  His wide eyes
 locked  with Erica's,  communicating  intense love.  Dale kneaded  her
 buttocks as they slapped against his thighs. Her womanhood grasped his
 member on  each thrust, milking him.  Suddenly, Dale knew that  he was
 about to come, and  a half second later his back  arched in ecstasy as
 he exploded inside this beautiful woman.
      Their motions slowly subsided, and Erica slowly backed off Dale's
 spent manhood. It slipped out of  her and fell limply onto his stomach
 with a very  wet splat that Dale found horribly  embarrassing. The two
 of them shared a smile over it,  and Erica took Dale into her arms. He
 closed his eyes  and enjoyed the feeling,  occasionally shivering with
 the intense memory of  how delicious it felt to be  inside a woman for
 the first time.

      He woke with his face nestled  in the warmth of Erica's chest. He
 turned and  looked up  into her  deep brown eyes  as she  greeted him.
 "Hello, lover. Have a nice nap?"
      Dale could  hardly contain his emotion.  "You're beautiful. Marry
 me?"
      She smiled in  a bemused sort of way, then  pinched his nipple so
 hard that he  flinched. "You're so cute!" She drew  his face back into
 her chest. "Here, have a tit."
      Apparently that was  a 'No'. He buried his nose  against her soft
 breast for a while more, then  asked, "What about the others? Did they
 go back to town?"
      "They're still around. Come on, let's track them down!"
      Dale  followed as  Paws led  him back  toward the  path. "There's
 Webster  and Seagull,"  she pointed  the couple  out. Beneath  a beech
 tree, the two men were locked in  an embrace. Although he knew that it
 wasn't that uncommon, he'd never seen two men together. He didn't know
 quite how  to react to  it, but he  felt a twinge  in his loins  as he
 watched.
      They walked on toward the campsite in silence. Dale was trying to
 figure out how  he felt about what  he'd seen. He knew  how his father
 felt about men who loved one another, but if they were both happy, was
 any harm being done? Was it something he could see himself doing? That
 wasn't  a  very comfortable  question!  As  if Simon's  definition  of
 adventure and  making love to Erica  hadn't given him enough  to think
 about already! They walked on, hand in hand.
      He and Paws entered the  clearing to find Bearcub giving Windsong
 a  back rub.  Dale noticed  the  discarded Nightfruit  on the  blanket
 beside the two,  and noted the blush on their  cheeks and chests. Paws
 held Dale's hand as they quietly approached.
      Dale again found  himself admiring Windsong's nude  body. She was
 very dark,  with long, straight  black hair  and deep brown  eyes. Her
 breasts were smaller than Paws', and shaped differently.
      Paws knelt down directly in front  of Windsong, so that they were
 both kneeling, facing  one another, nude. Their eyes  locked, and Dale
 could see  the feelings they  shared -- these  two women were  in love
 with one  another! As he stared  in amazement, Paws moved  forward and
 kissed Windsong on the  lips, as gentle and loving a  kiss as Dale had
 ever imagined.
      Dale was completely mesmerized by the scene before him. He stared
 as the  two kissed each  other deeply and passionately,  their breasts
 touching as  lightly as their  lips. On  one level, it  really excited
 him, but on a deeper level he acknowledged that it was by far the most
 beautiful thing  he'd ever  seen. His eyes  remained riveted  on Paws'
 full lips  as they  traced their  way down  Windsong's throat,  to her
 cleavage,  and  fastened  onto   her  succulent  breast.  Dale  gaped,
 awestruck at the beauty of the  scene. As he watched his lover working
 on Windsong's nipple, Dale whispered to  no one in general, "That's so
 beautiful!" The  artist's deep  brown eyes  flitted half-open  and met
 Dale's wide-eyed stare. She smiled  and squeezed his hand, then closed
 her eyes in concentration.
      Dale  saw Bearcub  come up  behind Paws  and begin  massaging her
 breasts.  Then the  two kissed  deeply before  Bearcub joined  Paws in
 nibbling and aggressively sucking Windsong's breasts. Dale would never
 have been so  rough himself, but apparently it was  okay, for Windsong
 thrashed her head quickly from side to side in ecstasy.
      Paws moved downward  and traced Windsong's legs  with her tongue,
 slowly settling  on her womanhood.  Dale watched as she  licked around
 Windsong's blossom, and  the dark woman writhed and moaned  as if each
 loving caress were a lashing.  Dale stared in wordless appreciation of
 the  love and  excitement that  was  being shared  with him.  Finally,
 grasping  the hair  of  each of  her lovers,  Windsong  exploded in  a
 furious orgasm that left everyone spent and panting. And smiling.
      Paws stretched, kissed Bearcub, and  then Dale. Her tongue darted
 inside his mouth, and he could smell and taste Windsong's womanhood on
 her. It was sweet and musky and  heady, and struck a chord deep inside
 him. It was something Dale knew he'd never forget.
      Then  Windsong leaned  up and  kissed Bearcub  and Paws  and then
 Dale. Before  he knew it,  Dale even got a  kiss from Bearcub!  It was
 both very  similar to  kissing a  woman, and  very different.  He felt
 small next to the big man, which was a very different feeling.
      Their energy spent, the lovers all  lay in a pile on the blanket.
 Dale didn't know why, but even  the powerful scent of the women around
 him somehow  left him  feeling very  safe and  secure and  loved. He'd
 never felt such a wonderful unity before.

      Dale had  sat and reflected  for a  few minutes when  Seagull and
 Webster arrived  at the campsite.  The newcomers all  gathered around,
 and suddenly everyone was exchanging  hugs and kisses of greeting with
 everyone else.
      "Thank goodness  that's over with!"  said Webster, giving  Paws a
 hug. "I  hate having to be  on best behavior when  guests are around!"
 Everyone  laughed and  sat down  to  talk. Windsong  grabbed Dale  and
 pulled  him down  next to  her.  With her  arms around  his neck,  she
 commented, "I'm keeping this one!"  in an authoritative tone. Although
 Dale couldn't make  up his mind whether he felt  embarrassed or proud,
 he certainly felt good.
      Dale  posed his  question  to  the group  as  a  whole. "I  don't
 understand. Do you act like this all the time?"
      Bearcub, sitting  on the other  side of Windsong,  replied. "It's
 like this. We're kind of a family, like we're all married. We all care
 about each other, and we like making love to each other."
      "But isn't this  kind of strange? How come you're  not jealous of
 each other?"
      Bearcub responded, "What's strange to me  is the idea that if I'm
 in love with  Seagull, I can't be  in love with Paws,  too. Loving her
 doesn't reduce  my love  for him."  That kind  of made  sense. Bearcub
 continued, "I'm  not jealous of  you, either, because  Paws' affection
 for you  isn't any threat  to her relationship  with me. In  fact, I'm
 glad, because  it's made  you both  happier, and I  can share  in that
 happiness."  He glanced  slyly at  Paws. "You  can't imagine  how long
 she's been going on about you!"
      Dale looked at his lover, and she was blushing. Apparently it was
 true!
      Bearcub continued. "And we all had  to encourage her to bring you
 out here. We did that because we  knew it would make her happy, and we
 care about her."
      Dale struggled to  keep up with the conversation  and think about
 his own  feelings. "But this isn't  right -- you can't  seriously live
 this way?"
      Seagull picked  up the argument.  "But if we lived  like everyone
 else, we would all  have to choose one husband or  wife and reject the
 others, and no one  would be happy. We really do  love each other, and
 it's much easier this way." With a wry smile: "Although having several
 lovers can be just as much of a problem, too."
      "I never knew any of this existed.  You don't act this way in the
 city..."
      "The only time we're free to show  each other how we feel is when
 we're out  here," added Webster.  "So we  come out here  pretty often.
 Someday maybe we'll live in our own house or a farm outside Dargon."
      As the conversation continued, Dale's mind worked to keep up with
 the concepts  and their implications.  It sounded like they  were very
 happy  thinking of  themselves  as  one big  family.  Dale thought  to
 himself about  whether or not  he could live  in such a  group. Loving
 more than one person might not be  so difficult, but could he give his
 lovers the same freedom? Would he  ever be able to support and nurture
 a lover's love the way Bearcub had encouraged Paws?
      He sure had  lots to think about! Although  he certainly couldn't
 say that he loved all these people, he liked them and felt comfortable
 with them.  But did he  really care about  these people? The  idea was
 very  appealing.  But  was  that  just  because  he  was  looking  for
 excitement and  adventure? Did *they*  genuinely love one  another, or
 were *they* just looking for excitement and adventure?
      To look at them, Dale thought it was the former. But the idea was
 so strange! He'd never thought there was  any other road but for a man
 to marry a  woman and have a  family. In Dargon, men  didn't love men,
 and there  was no such  thing as a  group marriage. His  father called
 such people "freaks". But Dale knew these kids; they weren't "freaks".
 Baird was one  of the smartest kids  he knew, and one  of the students
 his father liked best! Surely his father didn't know this about Baird!
      Already  today his  father had  been proven  wrong about  fortune
 tellers and  the quarry. Could  his father, a knowledgeable  scribe to
 the Duke of Dargon,  also have been wrong about this?  And if so, what
 did that  mean for all the  other rules and principles  his father had
 instilled in him? Although his  father had undoubtedly meant well, did
 he now have to question everything his father had taught him?
      One thing  was certain: Simon's simple  statement about adventure
 had led Dale very far afield.

      Eventually, Paws  took Dale  aside and walked  with him  down the
 path. "You should  head back to the  city now. We have  some things we
 need to talk about as a group."
      "Is one of them me?" Dale inquired.
      "Of course!" She  gave him a quick but passionate  kiss. "And I'm
 sure you've got plenty to think about, too!"
      "That's for sure." Dale sighed heavily.  "I just wish I never had
 to leave."
      "Me, too."
      After a pause, Dale spoke again. "You know, this morning a friend
 told me that all  I had to do to find adventure  was do something I've
 never done  before. After  all the  things that  I've done  today, I'm
 beginning to think he's right."
      They walked  on for a  moment before Paws responded.  "My biggest
 adventure today was  bringing you here. When we met  at Jenzun's booth
 this morning, I knew that I wanted to bring you out here, but I almost
 missed  it because  I was  afraid to  take the  chance. If  you hadn't
 approached me, it never would have happened."
      Dale thought  about that  as she continued.  "I believe  that you
 should never deny yourself anything if  you think you will regret that
 decision later. So  many people go through life  thinking that they'll
 be happy just as soon as winter  is over, or their children are grown,
 or whatever, that they never enjoy  today. They go through their whole
 lives waiting  for tomorrows. Then,  when they're old, they  look back
 and realize that they've never spent  a single day happy or content. I
 don't want to  be like that. You  only get one chance  to enjoy today.
 I'm glad I took this chance."
      Paws stopped as they reached the end of the path, where the woods
 met the hayfields. In the distance,  Dale looked upon the distant town
 from a very new perspective.
      "So,  what  do  you  think  of our  little  family?"  she  asked,
 approaching him from behind and wrapping her arms about him.
      Dale smiled, but had no idea  what to say. "It's hard to believe.
 It's so different. It really seems  like a family. You're all so happy
 together, you know?"
      She took both his hands in hers. "Yeah. We try to give each other
 as much  of ourselves as we  can. We *are*  a family. We all  love one
 another  very  much."   Then  she  frowned.  "But   the  adults  don't
 understand. When we first got together, it was Seagull and Bearcub and
 I: two men and  a woman. When we told our parents,  they laughed at us
 and  told us  to grow  up.  When we  persisted, they  just got  angry.
 Seagull's parents eventually  threw him out of the  family. They can't
 see that there can  be any other way other than one  boy and one girl.
 We have to be kind of careful who knows about us."
      "That's why you use nicknames?"
      "Sort of.  When we're in town,  we act like Erica  and Parker and
 Baird. Erica  acts like everyone in  Dargon expects Erica to  act. Out
 here, I'm  not Erica  -- I'm  Paws, and  Paws is  kind of  a different
 person: the person I really want to be. Someday they won't be separate
 people."
      "I know what I want to be called, if I can be part of the group."
 Paws cocked her head in inquiry. "Sluice."
      She  smiled. "Straight!  But I  should get  back to  the others."
 Then, with a very mischievous twinkle in her eye: "See you next time?"
      Dale sighed and smiled. "I love you."
      "And we love you."
      Dale turned and walked silently back toward Dargon, contemplating
 the day's events and the meaning of Paws' last statement.

      Dale made sure that he caught  up with Simon Salamagundi the next
 morning.
      "Hey, Dale! So wassa fortune teller a good adventure?"
      Dale had forgotten  all about the fortune teller!  Simon had sent
 him  there to  prove to  him  that adventure  could be  found even  in
 Dargon, if you were  open to it and knew how to look.  What was it the
 seer had told him he'd encounter?  A new approach, new friends and new
 relationships, indulgence, and a favorable resolution.
      "Well, I guess you're right,  Simon. There certainly does seem to
 be some adventure to be had in boring old Dargon, after all!"
      The old sailor gave him a  gentle poke. "Good. No more talk about
 running off to faraway places?"
      "Nope," said Dale with a grin. "I think there's plenty to keep me
 occupied right here in Dargon." Simon would think that the trip to the
 fortune teller  he'd suggested had  done the trick.  In a way  it had,
 although there was much more to the story than that. And much more yet
 to tell. But this time it was Dale's turn to keep a secret.


                        Love an Adventure
                         Author's Comment
                      by David/Orny Liscomb

      "Love an Adventure" is a story about growth. The protagonist,
 Dale, has several mind-expanding experiences and comes out a very
 different person on the other side. But as much as Dale grows, the
 story's unstated goals are the growth of DargonZine and you, its
 readers.

      "Love an Adventure" pushes the informal self-imposed boundaries
 that the Dargon Project authors have lived under since the project's
 inception in 1985. It is the first Dargon story to contain on-screen
 sex, which we have historically avoided. Probably more
 controversially, the story arguably contains positive depictions of
 drug use, dangerous behavior, bisexuality, polyamory, teen sex, group
 sex, casual sex, and raises serious questions about consentuality. It
 also does not portray the practice of "safe sex", which has become a
 necessity of modern life. It is far afield from what we've been
 comfortable writing to date. Like Dale, we are growing and trying new
 things.
      It was just a matter of time before sex and these other issues
 made their way into the "Dargoniverse" as the authors call it. It is
 my hope that this story will show that there is a legitimate place for
 sex in Dargon, or any form of literature, when it is dealt with
 maturely and in the pursuit of a valid literary goal.

      In "Love an Adventure", my literary goal is that the story will
 also help the reader grow. Even with its positive depiction of
 alternative lifestyles, the real purpose of the story is what Dale
 learns from Simon in the first half of the narrative. Adventures are
 for everyone, and happen every time you do something that you've never
 done before. You don't need to do anything special to find adventure,
 because it exists everywhere you go; you just need to be open to new
 experiences. Your results may not be as exotic as the adventures Dale
 has had, but then again they might, and I guarantee that you will grow
 as a person.

      I hope that it is obvious that "Love an Adventure" is something
 other than a pornographic heterosexual male fantasy masquerading as
 literature. It is intended to be a very personal statement about life,
 and a study of the protagonist's emotions as he comes to understand
 this philosophy and follow the fascinating places that it takes him.
 Future stories about this group are planned.

      Comments are very strongly encouraged, whether they be in
 agreement or disagreement, and whether they deal with adventure, the
 role of sex in DargonZine, polyamory, or whatever. You may contact the
 author directly at <ornoth%wonky.uucp@stratus.com> or you may send
 mail directly to the DargonZine writers' group at
 <dargon-l@brownvm.brown.edu>, where it will be echoed to all Dargon
 Project writers.

      I'd also like to thank the people who have (sometimes completely
 unknowingly) helped this story, and the bits of my own that show
 through, be written: Ailsa di Mipp, Ace, Dafydd, Lothie, Nodrog
 Cur-chaser, Recki, Max, Sonja, Amq, Lory, Claudia, Lauren, Ayse,
 Curwen, and the other Dargon Project writers. I hope both stories
 bring you as much pleasure as I experienced by participating in their
 writing.
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------
1  (C)    Copyright   August,   1994,   DargonZine,     Editor   Dafydd
 <White@DUVM.BitNet>. All  rights revert to the  authors. These stories
 may  not  be  reproduced  or   redistributed  (save  in  the  case  of
 reproducing  the whole  'zine  for further  distribution) without  the
 express permission of the author involved.