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“The men in the second line will strike over your head and support you. In this way you form an impenetrable line. Put your shoulder into your shield, hold it up any way you can. If you drop your shield, even a little, you’ll die.”

“Yes sir!” the men shouted.

“Good,” Wilam said as he handed the soldier back his shield. “Do it again.”

The men continued to drill. There were three hundred men in his small army. Not nearly enough to go into battle, but it was a start. He had separated those with any kind of training from the rabble. Gwendolyn’s charms were not reserved for the wealthy or useful; any and every man who saw her was smitten. She left it to Wilam to make something of the ragtag troops. He had made the men with military experience officers and assigned those with archery skills as castle guards.

Men with building experience were busy reinforcing the wall that surrounded the Castle on the Sea. The main structure was built on a rocky peninsula, but the compound’s walls were made of stone and built ten feet high. The wall wound from the shore on one side, around the stables and work sheds, and ended at the shore on the far side. Wilam had his builders extending the walls out into the water. He didn’t intend to leave any gaps in the castle’s defenses. He was also building a wooden walkway that would allow the castle guards to see over the wall and patrol the perimeter without leaving the castle grounds. The walkway was six feet high and built right against the wall. The guards could fire their arrows over the wall if they were attacked and fend off anyone trying to climb inside.

Bringing order and productivity to the masses around the Castle brought Wilam a sense of pride. He had forgotten about Yelsia and his duty as the Crown Prince. His only thoughts now were of Gwendolyn and how he could please her. She had given him a task and he worked tirelessly to see it through.

It took all his mental strength not to go in search of the witch. He wanted to see her and, more importantly, for her to see what he was accomplishing. He thought that if she could just see all he was doing for her then perhaps she would finally return his affection. But he knew that she was busy in the library and wouldn’t want to be interrupted, although he couldn’t imagine why she was wasting her time among the old dusty books and scrolls. She was creating an empire and Wilam was going to make sure that it was as strong as possible.

“Sir, we’ve finished reinforcing the section of wall on the south side of the compound,” said a short man with thinning hair and a large, round belly.

“Good. Go and help with the new construction.”

“You mean where they’re extending the wall out into the sea?”

“That’s right,” Wilam said, not trying to hide his annoyance.

“I thought that perhaps Her Ladyship might want to come out and inspect our work first.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Wilam said angrily. “Queen Gwendolyn doesn’t want to be disturbed. Get back to work.”

The man bowed and hurried off. Wilam watched him go. He didn’t know why a man like that would hold out hope of wooing Gwendolyn. Then a thought struck him. If they were going to build an army, they needed to recruit more troops. He went into the stables and made sure there were enough horses. Then he sent word to the most experienced riders. He would send them out to bring conscripts back to their camp and bolster their numbers. The riders could also serve as scouts and bring back any news from the surrounding kingdoms.

* * *

Gwendolyn rolled over on the bed she had been lounging on. She sat up and scowled in frustration.

“He’s gone again, Mina.”

The witch’s sister did not respond. She sat in a chair in the corner, neither moving or speaking. Her eyes stared blankly ahead.

“Why does he keep doing that?” Gwendolyn asked. “I want him to come here and join us.”

Gwendolyn stretched luxuriously before standing up and walking to the large windows that looked out over the sea. The breeze from the water was cool, and it made the silky gown she was wearing flutter against her body. Her hair was a tangled mess, but still it waved softly in the breeze.

“Another glorious day of freedom, Mina,” Gwendolyn said. “I like this place much better than the tower. It was so dark and tedious. We mustn’t let the master come and take us away again.”

She moved to an elegantly carved chair that sat before a small table with a large mirror propped against the wall on top of it. She looked at her reflection and sighed. Then she picked up a brush and began running it through her long hair.

“The wizard in the north might be a perfect match for you,” Gwendolyn told her sister. “He’s grown more powerful, but he isn’t unsusceptible to our charms. I can sense that, even at this distance. If the men we sent north can bring him to us, I think we’ll be able to defeat even Offendorl. We’ll have all five kingdoms at our feet. Won’t that be something?”

She spoke in a sweet, conversational voice, but it was as if her words were falling on deaf ears. Andomina was a powerful warlock but had no control over her own power. Gwendolyn controlled it for her, and in fact controlled Mina’s entire life. It had been that way since they were little girls and Offendorl had taken them to the Torr as children. They had lived in the massive tower for over a hundred years, with Gwendolyn under careful guard. Offendorl knew the power of a sorceress over men. Few could resist her charms, and even the Master of the Torr restricted his contact with them. He had eventually sent Gwendolyn and her sister to capture Zollin and bring him back to the Torr, but when the young wizard had learned to shield himself from her, Gwendolyn had brought her sister to Lodenhime instead of returning to their master.

Offendorl was afraid of Zollin, a fact which had not been lost on Gwendolyn. She had sent Zollin’s father and friend to bring him back to her. If she couldn’t use her magic, she would use the men under her spell. It was, after all, the only thing she wanted them for. Men were weak-willed, pathetic creatures to Gwendolyn. She had always seen them give in to their most basic urges. They would surround her, throw themselves into any task to earn her favor. Eventually they would fight and kill each other, and the process would begin all over. It was wearisome to Gwendolyn, but she would use them as long as they served a purpose.

A knock on the door broke her concentration. She had been brushing her hair, mindlessly combing through the glistening strands as she thought about Zollin. He was the key to her freedom after all. The army Wilam was building was little more than a war band. She knew that a strong noble could easily defeat her rabble of farmers and tradesmen, but leaving her adoring horde idle would only hasten the day when they fell to killing each other. And she had to admit she liked order. Wilam was a natural leader and he did, in fact, know about soldiering. It only made sense to put his skills to good use.

The knock sounded again, this time louder and more urgent.

“Oh, all right, just a minute,” she said loudly. “The demands of men never cease, Mina,” she said as pulled on a more modest robe. The weather was warm, but she preferred to remain fully dressed.

She pushed the large metal bolt that was used to secure the door and then pulled the heavy slab of oak open. Wilam was waiting, a look of worry in his eyes that quickly passed once he saw her.

“I thought you might be ill, my lady,” he said, wringing his hands nervously. “I searched for you at the library.”