Blue Stones' horse entered the final, obscuring ravine that sheltered the Black Fortress from the eyes of the world.  The first view one had of the towering spires of the castle, nestled in the natural red rock walls of the canyon, was one that struck awe and dread into the hearts of even the most stalwart.  The black stone looked like a refracting prism against the red backdrop, draining the light from all around it and dwelling within its own impenetrable shade of gloom and menace.<br/><br/>Sybille looked up from the ground in front of the horse, and the sight of the castle was enough to make her shudder.  In the past few days, she had sunk into a deep despair as her initial terror and uncertainty faded.  The knowledge that she may well fully never again see Dolf and Lara (for Blue Stones has seen no reason to tell the girl that her adopted father had been killed) again weighed on her spirit like a lodestone.  She had refused the meals the assassin had offered her, and had eaten only when forced.  Her cheeks were wan and drawn, her eyes troubled beyond her years.  But even in the midst of soul-crushing misery and anxiety, she could not but be moved by the sight of Konrad's fortress.<br/><br/>Long before the castle had been visible to them, they had been sighted, and even though they had been told to expect the renowned assassin, the palace guard beneath the ruthless eyes of Konrad's overseers did not let the assassin approach unchallenged.  An honor guard was dispatched to meet them, a dozen mounted calvary and a company of crossbowmen met the assassin and the girl when they were a thousand yards away from the palace gates.<br/><br/>Blue Stones took hold of Sybille's wrist.  It would have been then, if she had been going to attempt to flee, that she would have done so, never mind her ability to outrun not only him but twelve other mounted men, desperation made men and women do strange things.  But she did not, which meant that she was either ignorant that it was highly unlikely that she would leave here again of her own will, which Blue Stones did not think likely, given what little he knew of her, he knew she was no fool.  More likely that she was resigned to her fate.<br/><br/>The captain of the guard hailed the assassin.  Though Blue Stones had once taught him the ways of the sword, he demanded that he identify himself.  Blue Stones did, and indicated Sybille by half lifting her from the saddle by her upper arm.  "Tell His Dread that I have a trifle here that he might appreciate."<br/><br/>"Ahh, yes," said the captain.  "I shall be pleased to relieve you of the burden your horse has no doubt carried for many long miles, old friend."<br/><br/>"You shall do no such thing," said Blue Stones with a pleasant, but grim, smile.  "None but myself shall handle the girl until and unless it be by Prince Konrad's orders."  Competition made even rivals from friends, the assassin thought.<br/><br/>As the guard captain responded, Sybille turned, a question unspoken on her face.  Konrad?  He must have been the man that was behind all of this madness.  Why did the name seem so familiar to her?  Who was this man that commanded armies and lived in a great fortress, and had an interest in her, an innkeeperman's daughter.  Blue Stones kicked his horse into motion again, the way before them opening as the captain ceded to the assassin, and Sybille closed her eyes as a single tear fell from her cheek, landing on the ground where the thirsty, dry earth drank it in an instant.