Again, Jaris and Mara found themselves alone and without home, upon the bank of a river.

“Are you unharmed, father?” asked the girl.

“Aye, not greatly, Mara. And you?”

“Aye. To where do we travel now?”

Jaris looked to the silver and gold moons and pondered this. “I heard ill rumor from my once-friend that the sorrow wrought tonight was a plot by one called Gareth, who has named himself King of the Hob. In the scheme was your name mentioned as one to be spared. I know not what the end was meant to be, but there is foul work afoot at his hand, though we thought him an ally, and valor demands I seek him out and put a stop to it. It is a fool’s errand, and I would not ask you to accompany me, for surely the gods cannot be so generous as to allow my escape again.”

“Father, I said to you that so long as you or I draw breath I will stand at your side, and so it shall be. If you deem this battle worthy of undertaking in the name of righteousness, then you shall not fight it alone. This one who calls himself King has taken from me the place I called home, and all those who I might have called friend, and has mysterious designs upon me. Indeed, I would be driven to seek him out even alone. Now let us go, and find where this King called Gareth holds court, and seek justice in it.”

Jaris was greatly proud, and laid his hand upon the Hob girl’s shoulder, and said to her, “So be it, Mara. Let us waste no more time.”

Elsewhere, the cowardly town-chief and his men met a party of Hob warriors, riding upon great wolves and girded for battle, where they lay in wait for message from King Gareth’s spies.

Upon meeting them, the chief informed their leader of the pursuing Men, and the war-party rode out, and there was a great battle there in the mountains, leaving no Men left alive to tell the tale, for it had been Gareth’s plan to let them ride home with trophies of their conquest, but he would not brook their intent to press deeper within his domain, and bring reconnoissance of it back to the lands of Men.

Jaris and Mara witnessed this battle from afar, and found it evidence of treachery afoot, for a war party of such great strength and number would only be encamped such, so far from any road or border, if it had been placed there in expectation of a like force. And only could such expectation exist if it was known of before even the opposing war-party had left the lands of the Duke.

And so did they set out, over the Hob Mountains, Jaris with his face wrapped in rags and Mara with hers displayed openly, a badge of passage in these lands.

The battle completed, the Hob war-party and the cowardly Hob chief returned to the Court, where report was made of all that had happened. Gareth was greatly enraged, for the girl he sought stood not before him, only evidence of the failure to procure her. And so he ordered the town-chief and his men beheaded, and took solace that the girl’s body had not been found in the town, and that his scryers whispered to him that still did she live.

So Gareth sent every spy and warrior in his grasp out across his lands, seeking her, and then sat, and waited for word to return. Knew he not that at that same moment she sought him, and drew ever closer.

Five days and a fortnight across the land did Jaris and Mara slink, avoiding the Hob warriors that seemed to permeate the mountains, until at last they found themselves at the gates of the great keep Gareth had built, high atop a rocky crag.

“Seek we audience with Gareth, the one who calls himself King of the Hob!” cried Mara at the gate.

But Gareth, fearing not the hand of Man nor Hob, for it was prophesied neither should take his life, had sent every of his subservients versed in the common tongue of the Realm, and all of his strongest warriors, out in search. Those few who remained were those of least skill, and ignorant of his designs.

Hearing such a strange Hob, the guards did accost her, and made to bring her to Gareth by force. This, she resisted, and upon the realization that her companion was of Man, they struck out immediately, and were cut down by the two noble warriors. The alarm being raised, those Hob who remained came to the gate in defense, but their pikes were no match for the time-tested blades of Jaris and Mara.

In this keep, now left strangely without guard, the two made their way to the throne-hall, wherein they found Gareth, who took up his sword at the appearance of these interlopers into his court.

And then Jaris accosted him, saying, “Are you Gareth, who calls himself King of the Hob? Was it you who sent spies with designs on the girl Mara, who I have raised as my own? You who willed the place called Haven destroyed, though you yourself ordered it built?”

“Aye,” said he, with skill in the common tongue of the Realm that few Hob could match, “I am the one called Gareth, and I am King of the Hob, but the words you speak are lies, spread by a Man to separate this chosen Hob from her destiny. Now be silent, and step aside, that I may speak to her.”

“I think not, deceitful one, as this symbol attests.” And Jaris cast the medallion to Gareth, and did not yield to him.

“This object means nothing to me,” said Gareth, for lies flowed easily from between his teeth. “Tell me, girl, have you seen evidence of these accusations, or only that which this Man has told you? I ordered the place called Haven be laid out for those without home such as yourself, a number among whom I once counted myself, for I was taken as a slave by Men, and escaped, and was shunned by Man and Hob alike.”

Jaris struck his sword-hilt against his shield, and called out in anger to the clever-tongued King. “Cease your trickery and speak truth, King of the Hob, or take up your blade and fight me, with honor, for your works have taken from us the place we at last called home, and if truly you are King of the Hob, much from both of us before that.”

“If you wish to cross blades, lying Man, so be it, but I shall warn you that it is foretold by the Fates that no child of Hob, nor one born of Man, shall ever strike me down.”

“Stay your blade, Mara,” said the Knight to the one he cared for as daughter, “for ’tis dishonorable for two to come at one, and my skill is the greater.”