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he briefed them on the strange mission they were about to embark upon. He needed them prepared for the situation that they were to face when they arrived at the border town.
    “We are told that these villagers are dead, yet they still walk,” he spoke to an attentive audience of seasoned soldiers. “They will attack and kill, if they get their hands on you. I can’t tell you much more as I’ve never seen or heard of such a thing. How we kill the dead, I’m not sure.”
    “Separate their heads from their shoulders, sir, that should do the trick,” his Sergeant suggested.
    “That sounds like good advice,” Flint agreed. “If they can’t see us then I don’t think they can kill us,” the Commander smiled.
    The men laughed nervously. Most of them had fought in the recent battles of the coup. Some had even gone to the desert to rescue their Queen from the lizard people, the Akkedis, and fought in the battle in the underground city. Each of them were experienced, but still, they would need a cool head if what they were told was true about the occupants of Norham.
    By the time the sun was rising above the horizon, a troop of fifty soldiers and five villagers set off on their journey. The soldiers would leave the villagers at their homes, and then continue on to Norham, and whatever fate awaited them there.

6
    The day was a sunny one as the ship finally arrived in port, almost two days late. To the casual eye all seemed normal, being unaware of the poor souls who were lost when the birds attacked. If anyone had looked closer, they would see the damaged sails and blackened masts, but no one really paid the ship any heed as she quietly sailed in.
    As soon as the ship docked, Ganry and Artas disembarked quickly. They needed to secure lodgings before the night set in. Ganry felt as if he was finally home, flooded with emotions and memories almost as soon as he set foot on Mirnee soil.
    “Are you well, Ganry? You have a distant look in your eyes,” Artas asked, dragging all the baggage down the walkway as Ganry stood staring into nothing.
    “I feel like I never left, Artas, and the emotion of being back is quite overwhelming,” Ganry said in a quiet voice. “It looks almost exactly the same as it did the last time I was here, all those years ago. If my memory serves, then a very dear friend of mine lives close by. He will put us up while we stay here.”
    “Sounds better than staying in an inn, that’s for sure.” Artas was pleased. Friends always cook better meals than inns.
    They set off into the market square that was up a hill with a wide flat road. Artas was impressed, he had always thought of anyone from another country as a barbarian, but it appeared that Mirneans were quite civilized.
    “What are you smiling about?” Ganry asked the young man.
    “Just smiling to myself, really. I thought we had come to a barbaric country, and I am surprised by the clean streets and busy folk going about their business.”
    Ganry clipped him across the back of his head with the back of his hand.
    “Ow, what was that for?” Artas was most put out.
    “Because you think I am a barbarian,” Ganry replied, looking at the young upstart. “See, the market is the same as anywhere, fresh fruits, chickens running around and all the finest rugs you could ever wish for. While I am here I will buy myself a new fur coat. It will be made of biggest, most luxurious bear fur you have ever seen. The bears in this land are known for their size and their furs will last you a life time. I left in a hurry and never did pick one up to take with me.”
    Artas looked around at the market stalls. They looked exactly the same as they did in his homeland, expect there was livestock running around free, which seemed a little strange to him.
    “Shall we try the food, Ganry?” Artas's tone was almost pleading. He was starving and his mouth was salivating at the delicious meats cooking on a spit. The food on the ship had been palatable, but plain.