Garn was said to be a man without equal. He was tall and muscular, as well as ruggedly handsome. He was in most every way a symbol of his nation. He, himself, saw such talk as worthless, however, for Garn was a man of action and not words.

As he strode down the corridors of the palace, the various guards and attendants smarted themselves in his presence. Reaching the throne room he waited for not introduction or summons, but walked right in. He stopped and gave a courteous nod to the king; no bow or bent knee, for such was not in Garn’s character.

“Ah, Captain Garn,” the king said. “It is good of you to come on such short notice.”

“Always at your disposal, Majesty,” the hero replied.

“I have a matter of the utmost sensitivity for you. There seems to have been an incursion on the northwest border.”

“What is sensitive in that, I can deal with it straight away, and make an example of the Helians.”

“”Well, that’s just the thing,” the king said clearing his throat. “It seems it is we who have crossed the border, and now the officer who crossed over is trapped alongside thirty of his men. I am afraid that I will need your special skill-set to find them and lead them back to this side of the frontier without alerting the Helians to your, or their presence beyond the border.”

“Can we not deal with this diplomatically, and state is was a foolish act of a minor officer?”

“Well, here again it’s a bit tricky,” the king said. “The officer in question is Prince Talbo.”

“I see,” the hero said with no attempt to disguise his distaste for the situation. “I will leave immediately.”

“I knew I could count on you,” the monarch said with a weak smile.

“Always, Majesty.”



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