It was late november and it rained heavily for almost four hours. The midnight was near; everything was covered in utter darkness, and the only sounds that could've been heard were rain drops falling and chilling whisper of trees, battling each other on cold north wind. Forest sounds were hushed by weather: any living being was trying to find a safe place to be out from the Elements.

Not everything layed in complete darkness. Through thick veil of night, between the giant trunks of the forest, several shimmering lights could've been seen, glimmering like a bunch of small insects. The lanterns, attached on wooden sticks, iluminating the big porch of a cabin; yellow lights that shine through small windows, showing, like beacons in the night, the way to the living, to a sanctuary from this hellish night. In a certain radius, the rays of light fought valiantly against the forces of darkness - but after a few feet, their strength diminished, and finally, on the seveth it was broken completely. Nothing could stand in the way of the upcoming, murky shadows.

An hour after midnight, the rain loosend its grip. There was another set of clouds coming from the north, a thief looking bunch that seemed to be even worse than the ones that were tormenting the countryside for the last few hours; but it was obvious that they firstly have to drive off the natives, before they can unleash their anger on the forest valley.

"Just enough time", flew through knight's mind, while watching the stormy skies.

A small fire was burning happily, iluminating the little cave of granite walls, hidden in the depths of one of the surrounding hills. Next to it, a mighty black horse was jumping, frightened by the sound of rolling thunders. And right on the entrance of the cave, he stood, a silhouette darker than the night itself. He was hooded and cloaked again; a big longbow sat on his right shoulder, while his trusted longsword layed on his left hip.

Soon the rain died, offering a short respite to tired souls. It seemed like that was just the moment the knight was waiting for. He quickly stepped on the fire and extinguished it, then he took a piece of warm charcoal and darkened his face to the point that only blue eyes could've been seen. After that, he took the Black Wind's leash and left....


... The place was perfect. Thick, long grass and small bushes provided the best possible cover, the clouds had hidden the moon, and the cabin itself echoed of loud merry voices, nasty songs and shouts. Obviously, its residents were celebrating something, and most likely - drinking like hell. Between long laughs and shouts of men, from time to time a few women's voices could be heard screaming, laughing and shouting.

"A big, happy family." crossed Dusan's mind. He was kneeling next to an old, pine tree, that had grew right from the very stone of the aquaeduct. A position he had taken provided the best possible spot for watching over the cabin. He was not at all surprised when he saw a man on the top of the ruin, some time ago, when he arrived; but the fellow was sleeping, and the knight was almost sad when he loosened his arrow. But, the closiness of the upcoming action made him forget about the guard, and concentrate on the next section of his plan.

The time was right. The rain had started falling again, and thunders were ripping the skies appart. Dusan took the flint and lit a small fire. He had hidden it from unfriendly eyes with a couple of stones and branches, then took his first arrow from the quiver. The top of it was covered in lamp oil, and the fire greedily swallowed it.

A sharp sound that only a burning arrow can produce split through the night and rain; the arrow was in the stable, and fire started almost instantly. Soon, the horses in it went crazy, hitting the wooden walls, the gate, making awful sounds that echoed few glens away.

After a few moments, first man was in Dusan's sight. It was a soldier, but he lacked the helmet and greaves; he was holding his trousers from falling down when he stepped into the stable. The burning arrow hit him right between the eyes. Man's hands flew aside, and his trousers fell to the floor.
The next one rushed in and opened the gate for the horses, noticing his friend's falling, but in the heat of the fire oblivious of the reason - he didn't have much time for thinking though, as the next arrow flew right through his chest, still burning on the other side...

The third was cautious; he was shouting like crazy and cursing, but held his head low. With a crossbow in his hand, he examined thoroughly the surroundings. In one moment, he saw a glimpse of fire on the top of the ruin and immidiatelly targeted it; but did not have enough time to unleash the bolt. All he saw before eternal darkness closed his eyes was a blazing light coming at him at a speed of a lighting.

"He's the...!'', he tried to warn his friends, but the arrow ended up in his throat, cutting the muscles like they were made of paper.

This was the end of the element of surprise. The next soldiers that came after these three held their shields high, covering others who wielded crossbows and short bows. Very soon, they found out from where these blasted arrows came, and started firing like crazy. But the knight was already gone, and arrows and bolts just made the old pine tree look like a giant hedgehog.

While the most of the men still able to stand on their feet (not drunk enough) charged towards the stable, Dusan used a specially prepared rope with a hook and flew silently right next to one of the windows on the top floor. The window was dark; the knight tore it out from its holdings, and jumped inside.

Total darkness reigned in the room he found himself in. He drew his steel and stood for a moment, letting his eyes accustom to the surrounding midnight. Then he slowely found the door, and stepped in a shady hallway.

It seemed deserted. No tapesteries, no weapons on the walls, nothing; nothing but spider webs and thick layer of dust on the floor. The hooded figure started walking, step by step, as silently as he could. Soon, a passage downstairs appeared. The light was also there, thus Dusan prepared for everything. He removed his hood in order to have nothing blocking his sight, then went down.

Nobody. He advanced down the corridor iluminated by torches cautiously, holding his sword in front of him with two hands, to strengthen the grip.

"Bastard!"
A shout came from behind him, but he didn't have the time to see whom it belonged. A powerful swing almost caught him over the head; if he was just a split of a second slower - he would have been dead. Enraged by this sudden, treacherous attack, he striked his attacker so furiously that the short sword shattered, along with the shoulder of its owner. The attacker cried - with a woman's voice.
Dusan fell to the ground, looking at the woman's eyes, which quickly started losing the glow of life. It was a girl, some poor, drunk, peasant girl, who ended up here who knows why... She cried, and blood flew out of her mouth like something was forcing it out. She cried.
The knight held her head gently, battling a horrible feeling of wrongness in his soul.
"What have I done..."

In the next few seconds, the girl was dead, her eyes fixed and glass-like. Duke's eyes filled with tears as he was saying a prayer for her soul. When he finished it, he took two golden coins, and placed them upon her eyes.
He had no words to say, nothing could cross over his lips anymore. He picked up his sword and left the dead girl; but part of him died and remained there in that hallway forever.


After many, many checked rooms and chambers, he found no trace of Camy, nor Raynold. He killed three more men along the way, but he did it without any anger, without any feelings at all. Finally, he passed down to the basement; he could hear the sound of the drunken bunch up in the common room, right above his head,
but he was not worried. The only thing he needed to do now, was to find Camy and get her out of that damned place... He didn't even laungh for revenge over Raynold; something seriously snapped in his head.

He moved down another corridor, which had wooden walls and many doors - it was obvious he stumbled upon a dungeon. As he felt he was on the right course, he continued further, investigating every room. They were all empty and unlocked. When he stumbled upon a locked door, he was almost surprised.

"Anyone there?" - he whispered loudly. When he got no answer, he broke the lock with his sword and entered. A man layed inside, on a bed, in absolute darkness, breathing heavily. When Dusan came closer, he recognized Camy's servant Sabbas, whom he saw many times.

"Sabbas!", the knight whispered, checking the man's throat. He was alive. Severly wounded (he had a horrible cut over his chest, that was taken care of lousily) but alive.

"My lord Dusan", said the good man with his last strengths, looking at the duke like he was sent from Above.
"Don't speak. Come, I'll help you. Do you know where your mistress is?"

"She's here, two doors from my cell, to the left. Please, forget me, my Lord, save her! She was struck hard..."

Instead of an answer, Dusan took Sabbas and helped him out of the cell. Then, they went down to Camy's. While Sabbas was leaning on the wall, unsure on his legs, the knight broke the door open without any hesitation.

A single candle was lit on the small table, and was just drawing its last breaths. White, empty walls, small chamber, one barred window..The only things in the room were the bed, the table with the candle, and a chair.

The bed... Oh, the bed. On it, she was laying, she, the Love of his life.

She was sleeping... Oh, God, how beautiful she is when she sleeps! How divine her expression is, how sweet her hands are, laying next to her body... How perfect her shapes are,covered only by a clean, white sheat...

Then, Dusan's loving eyes grew angry again. Camy's head was wrapped in bondages, and there where she was hit, the blood appeared on the white cotton. He drew closer to her, examining if she had any more wounds... Then he sat on the bed, and looked into that angel face, face that made him become aware that there was godly beauty on the face of the earth as well, not just in heaven... He gently moved his fingers through her hair, down her pale cheeks, over her beautiful, full mouth... She was perfect... If anything in the world could've been called perfect - that was her.

He tried to awake her gently. After a moment, she opened her eyes. They were green, those eyes, green like the pastures of Heaven, like the finest of all emeralds... She was looking at him, just looking, not saying anything.

"I came, my Love... It is over... I came, and now nothing will tear us apart...", he said, with eyes filling with tears again, this time tears of joy.

She looked at him with her lovely eyes, but suddenly they moved beside Dusan's face, in the direction of the door. She started breathing heavily, then fainted. Dusan shouted, looked away, and saw him.

Raynold de Chartres. A man almost Dusan's height, but wider and thicker, like a bull. His face was red, his beard and hair blonde. Two guards were standing behind him. He smiled.

"So, you finally managed to appear, you scoundrel. Thought to drop by, take my possessions and then leave without paying? Typical. It is agood thing we came down here when we did, boys. Now we will exterminate the rat, so I can afterwards take this beauty queen up, say the words, and then finally enjoy what I was waiting on for a long, long time."

Stefan Dusan Nemanjic gazed at him with contempt.
"You are a despicable worm. I will not waste words on men such as you. Tonight you are the one that'll pay."
WIth that said, the fighting comenced. Dusan drew his dagger and launched it in a blink of an eye at Raynold, but he dodged, and the blade hit one of his bodyguards in the neck. Raynold was wielding a mighty battle axe with two blades and a pike between them, a dreadful weapon, but a pretty clumsy one in a stiff enviroement such as this. Dusan wanted to draw them away from Camy's room any way possible, so he pressed them hard, dealing many blows, making them pull back. When they exited the chamber, the knight saw Sabbas laying on the floor. That made him even more angry.

He managed to cut down the other guard by severing his leg (the bodyguard fell over the body of other guard, thus made Dusan's move possible), which left two death enemies facing each other.

"I will enjoy your little Camy, whelp!" - Raynold shouted, trying to make duke forget himself of anger - "Oh, I will enjoy her! How does she like it? M? It doesn't matter, I'll do it my way, she'll beg for more!"
Dusan didn't answer. His anger was so great, that he was afraid of making a crucial mistake whilst the parry lasted. He concentrated on the enemy, dealing blows, blocking, attacking, pulling back.

"Cat eaten your tongue, boy? You afraid? You should be, dog, for I wont be gently with your little lady!"

Raynold tried to do a fake attack, to attack with a slash, then in the last moment, use the pike to nail the knight, but Dusan was watching his moves carefully, and was well prepared. The attack went badly for Raynold, leaving him open for a second.

"Eat this.", coldly stated the knight, and struck faster then lightning. Severed Chartres's arm at the height of the elbow fell to the floor. Raynold screamed in pain.

"You mongrel, you son of a bich, you... Camy is mine! You will never have her! Neveeer!", with last strengths, Raynold took a hidden knife underneath his tunic and stabbed his enemy in the leg.

Terrible pain ran up to Dusan's mind, from the point of the wound. But as he was still heated from the battle and full of adrenaline, he felt only the stabbing, and nothing after that. He raised his bloody sword and struck Raynold over the head, with such a cold precision that he had split his head in two, like it was a waterlmellon.

The duke rushed to Sabbas. How he was surprised when he saw that the old fox was still breathing! Dusan helped him stand up, then went back into Camy's chamber. She was still unconcious and pale. He lifted her gently into his arms. She was so light! He carried her out in the hallway.

"Can you walk, Sabbas? Can you follow us?"

"I have this giant axe of Raynold's to help me out, my Lord, I think I will somehow manage to keep up."

"We will go through one of the back windows, follow me. We have to keep quiet though, as there is still plenty of those thiefs above us..."

Guided by God's hand, they somehow managed to find their way to one of the back rooms wthout being noticed. Dusan jumped out on the rain first, checked the surroundings, then when he was sure it is okay, he carried Camy out. He placed his cloak and hood on her, then dragged Sabbas out.

"My horse is not far from here. We will walk side by side from this point, as the ground is treacherous, and you could slide down into the creek. Cautiously now. Let's go."

They had no problems reaching the place where Black Wind was waiting restlessly. Dusan helped Sabbas up, then placed Camy on horse's back and strapped her for the saddle, so she doesn't fall. All this time they were running from the cabin, he completely forgot about the knife in his leg. He felt a strange ich now that they started their way out of the valley, and noticed the weapon and the wound.

"Go on without me, I'll catch up as soon as possible." - he said to Sabbas, feeling that he slowely losses strength as the adrenaline leaves his body, and heat diminishes by the cold rain. He approached tiredly and gently kissed Camy's hand.

"But my Lord!" - said the good servant looking at him- "Please sit on the horse and come back for me after you've taken care of my mistress! I can hold on for plenty of time more, and the city is close - please listen to my words!"

Dusan sat on one of the fallen trees.
"Do as I say, Sabbas, take your Lady to safety. You must keep your senses up, do not fall asleep at any cost! Do you understand? I'll catch up. Go now! Go!"

Sabbas looked at him, wondering what's wrong(he couldn't see Dusan's wound). Finally, he turned the horse and left in the direction of the city.
"I will send someone with your horse the moment I get my lady to her villa, my lord, don't worry! May the angels always watch over you!"

When they left, the duke felt an awful tiredness, rising through whole of his body. Suddenly, he also felt cold, and he shievered.

"Winter came earlier this year", he said for himself, leaning comfortably on the dead trunk. He slowely began losing reason. "I hope Camy will like playing in snow. She will be so beautiful, all in white... So beautiful..."

Then he lost conciesness. A black Raven flew down from the upper branches and sat on his shoulder. It calmed there, like it never left the knight's shoulder. It was still raining. In the east, dawn was coming, silently eating through the black of night.

The City of Constantinople… still being ruled by the darkness of the night, appeared in front of them. At the horizon the first signs of light started their battle with the dark cloak of the night, for the beginning of a new day. The City was still quiet, it’s streets still empty. Just a few windows were brightened by the small lights of the candles. Those were the homes of the city workers and merchants already waken up and ready for a new day of work.

At that early hour of the morning, two silhouettes riding a big black war horse were entering in the City through the western gate. The riders: one woman and a man. The woman, covered by a black cloak, was leaning on the horse’s neck, while the man was hardly keeping himself in the saddle. All of their way until the gates, Sabbas fought hard to stay consciously and direct Black Winds steps through the forest. He tried for a little time to awaken his mistress, but she didn’t respond to his words. Her wound at the head was still slightly bleeding but her body was not so drained of energy to keep her unconscious. Her mind, though, was refusing to bring her back to life. Her mind which fought so hard with her heart when Dusan appeared in her life, stood firmly now on her broken heart side. Life has become senseless, now, that the love of her life was gone. Why should her return back to life? But, Sabbas, was unaware of all of this and only if he could have waken her up and tell her that Dusan is alive, not dead as she thought.

During this time, in the other side of the City, one Villa didn’t have time to sleep. Everyone was awake, except Camy’s two little boys, Alexander and Nicolas. Dareia, knelt in front of the crucifix from her room was praying, imploring, in tears, the Holy Father to assure the safe return of her mother. In the kitchen, all the women of the house were whispering about the great misfortune which has befallen on the house. Sephora, spent all the night praying with Dareia in her room. With the first ray of light, she made Dareia to promise that she’ll get some sleep, and left the girl’s room, heading to the courtyard. There, all the men from the house were already awake, making preparations for a new day of searches. She kneeled on the clear ground and continued her prayers for her good Lady safety. There, she felt closer to God, as she said to Karas, the stables keeper, while passing by him.

All started the day before, in the afternoon, when Lightning, Camy’s horse, arrived home… alone. When the attackers tried to catch it and take it with them, it struggled, kicking everyone who approached, until it was able to escape. It wandered on the fields for a few hours and then headed home. Everyone was worried when it arrived alone … suspecting that something wrong had happened. Their suspicions became certitude in the moment when one of the girls from the kitchen, returning from the market, told everyone in the house the rumors she has heard: their Lady and Sabbas have been attacked on their road home and have been taken prisoners by a band of thieves. All the men, headed to the market asking around details about the rumors. That way they reached the western gate of the City. But at that point they haven’t received any clue anymore about what direction to take. Since the night was falling and the roads from outside the city were too dangerous during night they’ve returned home, deciding to organize a search party and look around the City at first hour of the morning. They’ve, also, announced the City Guards Captain who promised to give them support in their research in the morning.

The morning came, and Karas and his older son were in the courtyard preparing the horses for the search. When the last horse was saddled and brought to the courtyard he saw a big black horse carrying two silhouettes, entering through the courtyard gates. He looked attentively and recognized Sabbas.

Sephora, look, is Sabbas! shouted him to Sephora which was still praying in the middle of the courtyard.

Sephora raised her eyes and jumped to her feet, starting to run towards them. Karas, much younger than her, reached her quickly, and run together towards the newcomers.

Karas, my little Lady is with him. said Sephora recognizing Camy’s blond curls, being the only thing visible under the cloak.

Approaching Black Wind, Karas stated:
Sabbas, but this is Black Wind, Master Dusan’s horse. I would recognize it anywhere. Where is He?

Yes, Karas, it is Black Wind. Master Dusan came and saved our Lady from that miserable Duke of Chartres’ hands, and noble at heart as we all know he is, didn’t forget about me either. He is still in the woods waiting for Black Wind.

In the mean time, all the men from the courtyard gathered around, and all the women from the house rushed outside, to see if it was true what Kara’s boy has just told them.

Karas took Camy from the back of the horse and accompanied by Sephora carried her into his arms towards the house, while Sabbas was helped by two of the guards to dismount Black Wind. Not being able to stand by himself, he leaned between those two.

Karas, after you’ll leave our Mistress into Sephora’s hands, take care of Black Wind… clean it, give it some water and food and prepare it for returning after Master Dusan. shouted Sabbas after Karas. He was hardly speaking, but he needed to assure himself that someone will go after Dusan. Then he addressed to the two guards which were holding him into his feet.
Help me to walk to my room and then wait for Karas to prepare Black Wind and go with it after Master Dusan, as quickly as possible. It will lead you to the place where our Master remained.

Before reaching the door of the house, Sephora started to bark orders around:
Aelia, go with your father (Sabbas) and clean his wounds. After I’ll take care of my little Lady, I’ll come to see about his wounds, too. You, - looking to a young girl from the kitchen – go and prepare a hot soup. Our Lady must be so hungry, and she needs vitamins to recover her strengths. You, - turning her head to one of the maids, go and take clean, cold water from the well and bring it to our Lady’s room. Don’t forget to bring bandages and clean sheets, too. Turning to another girl: Go into my room and bring the sackcloth with ointments to Lady’s room. Hurry, hurry!!

Without saying anything, everyone started to run around the house executing the tasks that Sephora assigned to each one of them. Hearing all the noise, Dareia came out from her room. At the top of the stairs from their rooms’ level, he met Karas and Sephora. Seeing her mother laying lifeless into Karas’ arms, she took Camy’s right hand into hers. Camy’s hand was so cold and languid… Frightened and with tears in her eyes, she shouted: Mom?!!

Dareia calm down, your mother will be fine. Go into your room and rest. Now, she is here with us. I will call you when she will be able to see you.

And they finally entered into the room. Dareia didn’t listened Sephoras’ words and she remained on the hallway looking into the room each time the door opened.

Send someone after the doctor; he should have a look at their wounds, too. told Sephora to Karas before he left the room.

When all the necessary bandages, sheets and vessels with cold water were brought to the room, Sephora took down the bandages that wrapped Camy’s head and inspected the wound. The bones of her Mistress head were not broken, but a big bump appeared on the place of the hit and the skin was severely damaged, causing the bleeding.

The wound was cleaned, the bleeding stopped, cold bandages permanently placed on the bump… but Camy still didn’t show any sign of returning to her senses. Sephora took a small bottle from her sackcloth and opened it in front of Camy’s nostrils. A pungent scent filled the room, making Camy to sneeze and open her eyes.

She looked around disoriented. Seeing Sephora beside her, her eyes filled with tears and started to speak rapidly and irrationally:
Sephora, he is dead… my beloved Dusan is dead. Raynold’s men killed him. Now, I will not be able anymore to tell him how much I love him.

My dear Lady, your beloved one is not dead. Master Dusan saved you and Sabas from Duke of Chartres’ hands. said to her, Sephora with a gentle voice.

What? Buuut, he appeared to me. His spirit came to me… he talked to me. I’ve wanted to say to him that I will follow him in heaven and be with him forever, but I couldn’t speak. And then, Chartres appeared also in my mind and everything disappeared.

No, my sweet Lady, all of this must’ve happened in reality but your mind made you believe that you were dreaming.

If what you say it’s true, Sephora, please ask him to come to see me. I need him close to me. and her eyes started to shine of happiness.

He is still in the woods, waiting for Black Wind to return for him. Sabbas already appointed the ones who will go with Black Wind and bring your beloved one to you. Now, be good and enjoy the happiness of seeing your love as soon as he will arrive. said her smiling. I see you’re better, now, so I will go to check on Sabbas wounds. I’ll ask Dareia to come and help you eat this yummy soup, to recover your strengths.

He opened his eyes. He was laying in his own bed, in the inn of the "Master Swordsman"; the clear daylight was filling the room with bright, midday light. Light breeze was moving the curtains, cooling his forehead, still warm of fever. He moved the sheets away, and inspected the wound closely - it was pretty nicely patched up, with fresh bandages and healing herbs underneath them.
Dusan fell back onto a pillow, trying to remember what happened last night. No luck. Whenever he got to the part when he freed Camy and Sabbas, the memories just ceased, like they were erased. He didn't remember anything after that point, and was amazed to find himself in his own room, patched up and taken care off...

Still, he remembered all too well the moment when his eyes finally set on Camy; he saw her again now, laying there, in that small, common bed, deep in the woods... Her golden hair on the pillow, her eyes, green as leafs in the early spring, looking at him with a familiar shine... She didn't speak, but that look of her eyes told him everything. She was still thinking of him, she was still remembering all the beautiful moments they've had, in Duklja, on the castle walls, on Crete, and its godly shores...

Dusan hoped Sabbas took great care in delivering his mistress to safety, and that he didn't fall asleep while they were riding towards Constantinople. Everything was in his old hands after Dusan set them on their way to the City. But considering his (Dusan's) position right now, the duke of Nis had no doubts that good Sabbas did what he had to do. This made him smile - if Camy is at her home now, she is well taken care of by Sephora, and her maids, and will be recuperating instantly... As far as Dusan saw, his love had no serious injuries, except the one on the back of her head - but that one healing hands and potions of Sephora will heal in no time. He just hoped nothing additional happened; the fevers were very dangerous in those days, taking lives like wind sweeps through the heap of leaves...

He immediately arose from his bed, and stood on his shaking legs. He had nothing of his clothes except cotton underwear - and at first was worried about the location of his clothes. He walked to the opposite side of the room (using mostly his healthy leg and dragging the other one) and opened his traveling chest. There he found clean white cotton shirt, black woolen trousers, black hazdia (a coat firm around the body, reaching few inches underneath the knees) and a silver belt. Dusan suddenly remembered something, and checked his neck - with a sigh of relief, he found out that his silver necklace was still on its place.

He started to dress up. First the trousers, then the belt, then the shirt... He buttoned it quickly over his strong chest, covering the black tattoo placed upon the center of his it, right above the heart. The black raven was spreading its mighty wings. Dusan covered it after a few moments, leaving only a small portion of it to be seen, as it was a hot day, and he wanted to have breeze cooling his neck and chest. If somebody really looked, spent some time checking it out - only then it could be seen. Otherwise, it was unnoticeable.

Finally, with hazdia on, and his high black boots of deer skin on his legs, he looked for his longsword, Rundig. It was laying beside his bed, with its glowing red hilt shining on the sunlight. Dusan took it and attached it to his belt. He then washed his face and hands from a nearby washboard, put on a perfume ('french nonsense' , he thought, but still he had put it on) and with sharp essence he left his room.

He was indeed very happy when he heard that Black Wind was in the stable. But also, he was surprised a lot when he heard that it was in there for almost a week.

"Are you sure, my good man?", he asked the innkeeper, still in disbelief."As far as I know, I came here yesterday."

"Of course I am sure m'Lord. You were carried here, on that gloomy morning six days ago, and everybody was afraid that you wont make it through the next night... The fever was very strong, and you've lost a lot of blood. But Almighty be praised - you got through it, and you walk again! The old woman, Sephora I think is her name, was here every day, mending your wounds. And the old man too, the one with a disgusting scar upon his chest, Sabbas. They hardly left your side."

"Nobody else came to visit me?", Dusan asked, happy in his heart that she was behind his healing.

"No, m'Lord."

"Thank you very much, my friend. Here", he took out two silver denarii,"here, for your trouble, in addition on the 7 I owed you for the past week."

"Oh, don't worry, m'Lord, everything is taken car of by Sephora, she payed me yesterday."

"Really? Then I must hurry on and repay her back! Till, take these two as well. Farewell, my friend..."


Dusan slowly sat on Black Wind's back, trying to use as less as he can his wounded leg. Then he advanced on in the direction of downtown, where Camy's villa was located, near a beautiful, three hundred year old alley...

... "My God! Master Dusan! You're up!", Sabbas was shouting so loudly, that the whole street was able to hear him.

"Yes, I am here, my good Sabbas. I see you have done your duty well. Is your mistress in good health?"

They were standing in the hallway of Camy's villa; Dusan was tall as a tree, and smiling brightly while much shorter (but strong as a bull) Sabbas was talking quickly.

"She is well, my lord... Physically."

The smile left duke's lips in an instant.
"What do you mean by that?", he asked.

"Well, she had recovered from the wound that she had on her head, as you can remember I'm sure... But when she woke up, she had no... ah, how could I phrase it... she had no will to live. It is because she thought you were slained by that vile beast, de Chartres."

"But you told her that I live, haven't you?"

"Yes, Sephora told her. At first, she was happy and smiling, but as the time went by, and she was bound for bed because of her injury, she lost her faith again... She thought Sephora told her you live because she wanted to make her feel better. Now anything Sephora tells her doesn't help. Our Lady is in bed again, torn to pieces by grief. She is laying for the whole day, not able to move from her bed because of this dreadful feeling she has... She thinks that you are dead, and that she doesn't have anything to live for anymore. Her children are terrified."

"My God... Please, Sabbas, can you take me to your mistress's chamber? At once, if possible."

"Of course, my lord!"

Sabbas stormed up the stairs, followed by the knight who was a bit slower, as he dragged his leg. On the top of the staircase, they found Sephora and Dareia, the oldest Camy's daughter, standing in front of her chamber. Oh, how they were surprised when they saw Dusan!

"My ladies." Duke of Nis stated, making a bow. They responded in the same fashion, and then Sephora said with raised voice:

"My lord, with all due respect, what are you doing outside of your bed?I have told to that greasy Milletus he should take care of you, and not let you out of your room!" As usual, she was talking like a mother talks with the son who did something wrong.

Dusan smiled on these words, knowing well Sephora's way.
"He did his job well, Sephora, do not worry. When I heard I was laying there for a week, I decided that it was enough."
Sephora gazed at him with eyes full of lightnings. Before she could say anything, Dareia jumped in the conversation and said:
"My lord Dusan, mother is in grave mood. She doesn't eat, she doesn't drink, nor does she sleep; please, go in and make her live again. She is so sure that you are dead, that she lights a candle under the window every night, and prays through entire days and nights for your soul, and for God to take her away. It is awful, she was never like this, never! Please go in! But gently, as she is so frail now that such a shock could kill her..."

The knight listened to her words carefully, filled with sadness, then kissed her hand and approached the door. Slowly, he opened it.

The chamber was brightly illuminated by the afternoon sun: it was a richly equipped room, with high sealing and windows wide open. White silk curtains were flying on the sea breeze, carrying in the salty essence of the sea. The furniture was extravagant and profuse, with Persian carpets covering the walls as tapestries and stone floors; Arab glass vases were placed in corners and on tables, and in them there was an abundant of fresh flowers, roses and Lillis, which filled the room with beautiful aromas.
And on the large bed with baldachins, there was her, laying, dressed in black long dress, with her sweet, green eyes directed upwards.
She stated that she wants to be left alone, not making the effort of looking at the doors, thinking it must have been someone from her house. Dusan closed the door behind him and slowly advanced, looking at her, absorbing every move of hers, every word, every inch of her figure laying on the bed, everything... It seemed ages had passed since the last time he saw her - and yet again, she seemed to him even more beautiful.
Her visage was pale, her eyes were tired and sleepy, her gaze was lost somewhere above her. And still, she was the loveliest woman in whole the known World.

Dusan finally stood by her bed, looking down on her, amazed by her divine beauty. Then he slowly lowered himself (as best as he could, for the wound burned like hell when he used that leg) on his knees and took Camy's hand. He clearly felt the shiver that flew through her body. She closed her eyes, not willing to look at the ghost. She knew that touch all too well, and knew that it belongs to the dead man.

"Open your eyes, my Love. Feel me - this hand is not cold, nor dead. I live. I am finally here. Look at me, Camy."

And then, finally, she opened her beautiful eyes, and all was well.

Her heart was torn apart by grief, crying for the loss of her Love. Her eyes became dry, no tears left to cry for her beloved Dusan. Her body was weakened by the pain of her heart, soul and mind. She didn’t have the strength to live, anymore.

A single thought filled her mind. If in that blessed day on the Serbian’s castle walls, she would’ve made another choice, Dusan would not have been dead. He offered her, then, three alternatives: to wait for the wars to be over and with the Emperor of Byzantium and the Patriarch‘s blessings to marry in the church of St. Archangel Michael in Nis or after the war will be over to have a grand wedding in Sancta Sophia in Constantinople in front of the Patriarch and the Emperor and whole of Byzantium court. The third option was to marry right in that moment, in the chapel of the castle, by a local priest. If she would’ve chosen that third alternative, she would have been already married when she firstly met Raynold of Chartres, and that man wouldn’t have had any interest in her anymore… and Dusan would have been still alive. But no, she has chosen to have their wedding in Byzanz … and her love was, now, dead.

Laying in her bed, just starring upwards… but seeing nothing, Camy was, again, praying. She heard the door open… but she didn’t feel able to talk to anyone.

Please, let me alone… I don’t want to see no one. and continued her prayer.

My dear God, you’ve let me take a wrong decision and, now, I will never look into his deep blue eyes, which charmed me from the first moment, now I will never feel his gentle touches, his burning kisses… Please, hear my prayers and take me, too, to be with him forever.

Suddenly she felt his hand touching hers. She knew very well that touch; every piece of her body recognized her Love’s gentle touch. A strong shiver passed through all of her body. She closed her eyes and talked to him, into her mind.

You’ve came for me, my Love. I’m ready. We will finally be together, for eternity.

QUOTE:
Open your eyes, my Love. Feel me - this hand is not cold, nor dead. I live. I am finally here. Look at me, Camy.

He talked… and his words sounded so real, like he was talking right beside her. His hand was warm and loving as she knew that only his touches could be. She slowly opened her eyes, and looked around. He was there, looking at her, with worried eyes, but full of love.

Dusan? asked her, raising slowly from the bed. Still frightened not to be a dream, she slowly touched his face, with her other hand. He was real… her hands feeling the warmth of his skin. Tears of happiness appeared in her eyes.

You’re alive! Sephora was right… you are alive! That man lied to me!

She jumped from her bed, kneeled beside him and curled her arms around his shoulders, to feel his warmth with all of her body. Again, their hearts were beating so close, one for each other. She put her cheek close to his, while her arms were keeping him tightly close to her. She was so happy that she couldn’t speak anymore… all that she needed in that moment was to feel him close to her, to feel his heart beating.

Cold water was sliping down his helmet, past his neck armor and down his back.

"Damn rain...", flew through his head, while jumping off Black Wind's back, into the murky muds of the Northern Road.

A big and somewhat tarnished inn stood firmly in front of him, on a lonely hill, overlooking the valley that stretched all the way down to the coast.

He tied the big war horse, took his saddle bag and threw it around his left shoulder. On the other one, his devoted longsword Rundig found its place, laying heavily upon his back. Right next to the Protoasekrates Stefan Dusan Nemanjic, there gathered the men of the Mercenary Company, unsaddling their horses, taking provisions away from the rain, acting usual. These were his own men; his army, mustered in Serbia and then sent forward to Byzantium where they were to rendevouz with their General.

Now, two days away from the capital of the Empire, they were all set to take the long march northward, towards the rest of the allied forces that were gathering to oppose the treacherous attack of the Rus, Pecheng and Kasanian armies.

The weather though, didn't seem to be very happy about their efforts, and was doing everything in its power to slow them down. Dark, menacing clouds were gathering on the northern skies as they continued their march, unleashing more and more rains, lightnings and thunders upon them; it was like their enemies controlled the elements as well as armed men.

The bleak weather: constant rains, soaked clothes, steel armors and weapons rusting and strings getting wet and unusable - those were the reasons for the men to feel miserable. But their leader, Stefan Dusan Nemanjic, had other ones that were responsible for his own poor state of spirit.

A few days ago, he was holding his beautiful Love in his hands; he was kissing her sweet lips, and whispering soft words to her ears...There was nothing on this whole world but them - after so many obstacles that blocked their happiness and love, they were finally free - free to think about themselves, to plan the most joyfull moment of their lives (their wedding), to dream about the time they will at last spend together on that beautiful place Camy had chosen for them so long ago... Oh, the moments of joy! How sweet they were.... and how short.

Five days earlier, Dusan remembered, an exhausted courier flew through the City's streets, and didn't stop his horse until he reached the Grand Palace. He brought terrible news; both terrible and sad actually. The man that they once called brother, whom they respected and even loved, Grand Prince Alar, had betrayed them awfully. He brought hordes from the Russian steppes, cruel Pechengs and fast riding Kasanians, along with his own men, at the borders of the Empire. He brought fire and sword to the bordering populace, burning villages, slaying the innocent, unleashing the mad rage of those wild men he took with him as mercenaries; it was a terrible act, cruel and cunning, and eventually - sad and disgusting.

The Empire responded; all over the land, vassals were raising armies and warbands, people were arming themselves, barricading their homes, preparing for war... Fast riders were sent to Serbia, and to Armenia, and to the Order; there also, upon hearing the dreadful news, troops were assembling for the great war. The conflict was so large, that it seemed Doom's Day had arrived.

They were separated again, Camy and Dusan... Again they were riding into an uncertain future, again their happiness was torn appart by war. Camy was riding in the main Byzantian army, Dusan was in the Mercenary Company that came from Serbia - again their hearts were to be separated and put to the test...


Dusan's mind was overflown by a well know feeling of weariness, of grief, of fear for his loved One...
"I cannot do this anymore..." - he thought, feeling the awful, choking heaviness upon his heart - "I cannot. I cannot let her go again, I cannot whitstand this terrible pressure that threatens to destroy my very soul..."

He took a couple of steps forward until he was standing on the porch of the inn, away from the rain.
"I have to know she is safe." - he told himself for the hundred and first time. "I have to."

"Mihajlo!" - he called. A tall and scary looking soldier stepped beside him.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Come here." They moved away from the other men; Dusan led him to the eastern end of the porch, which seemed abandoned and quite empty. "I know you were eager to cross swords with the Russians, but I need you to do something for me first."
Mihajlo was a small landowner in the county of Nis, and Dusan's most loyal vassal. He was also the most skilled and trained warrior in the Company, except Dusan himself, and knez Lazar, the Chancellor. It was a strong, battle hardened man in his late thirties; strong as an ox, but deadly fast, and a good rider.
"My Lord, we have our orders..."- started Mihajlo, but Dusan interrupted him.

"Yes, my old friend, I know this too well. I know this might be irresponsible from my side, but I need to know. I just need to."

"Know what, my Lord?" - Mihajlo asked, although he already knew the answer. He was one of the vassals Dusan had sent for when he announced that he and Lady Camy of the Byzantines were soon to get married in the Sancta Sophia. But Mihajlo was not just the vassal; he was a good friend. Upon seeing Dusan's expression, with deep, blue eyes set in the direction where Scholae, main Byzantine Army, went a few days ago, he nodded in aknowledgement.

"Dragomir should rest tonight; he rode for too long, and his horse is tired. I will go instead, to make sure we maintain our connections with the Byzantines. Last thing we need is a bad comunication with our allies."

Protoasekrates smilled sadly.
"My father was right about you...There are no many men now as you are, my old friend. Ride safely."

Three days later, the Mercenary Company had just crossed one big, fast flowing river when a rider appeared on the horizon. When he drew nearer, they saw it was Mihajlo. He was tired and dirty from the road, but in a good mood. He asked to talk with the Captain.

"My Lord" - he said, after exchanging greetings with the Protoasekrates - "I bear fine news. The Byzantine Army is gathering in Moesia, along with the two grand armies of the Order of the Temple that came form the sea. The enemy is there also - but we will arrive just in time for the large battle."

"Is Lady Camy..."

"She is there, my Lord, healthy and beautiful as always, if you allow the old soldier to express like that. She is well."

"I allow it, my friend."- Dusan smiled. - "Has she said something, sent me a note, a message, a token?"

Mihajlo suddenly seemed very embarassed and reluctant.

"Oh, come on, Mihajlo, tell me! She had sent something for me, hadn't she? She did. She did! Come on!"

"She had sent her love, my Lord." - Dusan smiled even further upon hearing these words. - "And..."

"And?"

Mihajlo looked the other way, now feeling really embarassed.

"She said to give you this." - he suddenly stepped closer to Dusan, and kissed him!

Dusan was astonished for a second, then laughed loudly and hugged happilly his embarassed friend.

"She loves me! She loves me, Mihajlo! Can you believe it? The loveliest woman in the whole World! Loving me! "

And he smiled like a man possesed, thinking about Camy, dreaming of her beautiful, emerald eyes....

... Months passed, months that seemed like years. Tides of battle took them away; for long now, they had no news about each other. Europe was a dangerous place at that time - wars that were fought over meager reasons ravaged the land - new kings rose like glorious banners, just to be thrown down into the mud the day after. Villages were building palisades, fortifying themselves from the wandering bands; soldiers fought and died in great (and sometimes in not so grand) battles, leaving their bones in the icy cold earth... Peril lurked on every step, and life was indeed a heavy burden. People travelled only in big convoys, with mercenary guards that not so rarely changed alleigance, turning against those that gave them the job, robbing them, pillaging their homes, or worse.. Wars, it seemed, never stopped. If one side bent down and accepted peace, someone other would always be there to take the sword into his hands and wage it again.

Stefan Dusan Nemanjic, not long ago promoted to the Minister of War in the Serbian Empire, found himself standing on the top of a cliff overlooking the bay. The Epirus harbour seemed busy; several large cogs were anchored inside the harbour circle, resting on the calm waters of the Adriatic. Two of them docked and Dusan could see small figures of harbour workers carrying provisions over the boards into their large hulls. Three more were just entering the port's circle, sailing by two large beacons painted in black and white. Their sails were red, with golden eagles as coats of arms.
It was noon of a very hot summer day; the town underneath the castle, pressed so hard by war just one week ago, seemed to recuperate with every passing hour. People were again on the streets, talking, smiling, walking around many booths; merchants were offering their stock, loudy as always, happy that they'll make good profits the moment the rest of the armies arrive. Especially the Byzantines, who favored good looks, nice perfumes from the East, silk and furs, honney, and many, many more.

Everything seemed to be full of hope, full of life and love for life.

Dusan smiled. His heart also, after so many months, sang of happiness again. Two days ago, around sunset, a messenger arrived, carrying word from the Byzantines. The army of the Roman Empire was on its way towards Epirus - its goal was to help against the Sicilians, but as the enemy was utterly beaten in the great battle of Ioannina, they were now offering the help for the upcoming campaign against Sicilian lands. The help was welcomed warmly by the Tsar and his loyal knights; but one knight was especially content. Content was not the right choice of words. Thrilled would be better - though even thrilled was not a word strong enough to describe the state he was in. His heart suddenly started bumping like crazy when he heard that as the leader of the glorious Byzantium army Excubitors rode her. Her, his lovely Camy, his Love, his life.

Since then, a strange euphoria never left him. He felt like he could jump with every step he took, fearing he might find himself falling into murky harbour waters; he even caought himself smiling for no reason, just feeling happy. He was buying rounds of beer to his men in the taverns, enjoying while they sang his name, and name of his beloved; he rode "Black Wind" up the Northern Road again and again, waiting for the signs of dust on the northern horizon, sitting underneath some lonely tree, smiling and simply feeling good. In one word - he had gone crazy. Crazy of love....

.... The sun was setting quickly that day, quicker certainly than the day before - or it was just Dusan's imagination. Perhaps it was because of the fact that the moment of leaving came - at nightfall, the ships carrying men, horses and provisions, will start their journey west, towards Sicily. Whatever it was, it made Dusan's euphoria loosen a bit, making his mind start playing games with his heart - he started worrying like hell, thinking if something bad happened on the roads, knowing how dangerous they were in those troubled times..
- My lord Minister - said the captain, leaning over a high starboard fence and looking down on Dusan who stood on the stone dock. - My lord Minister!
Dusan, roused from his thoughts, riveled and retorted:
- What is it now, Captain?
- I am sorry, my lord, but the night is falling, and we have to catch that tide. Your men are ready, and my hands are all set - we are waiting for you only to set sail.
Protoasekretes turned away, gazing up the sloop of the town, towards North.
"Where are you, Camy...? Where are you my love...?"
- Release the ship! - he shouted to the harbour workers, then walked up the board and stopped only when he reached the forward castle. There was a lot of clanging and creeking; moments after the cog was being pushed by a dozen of long poles.
- Give the signal - he told Porfirious. Simple, green flag appeared on the top of the mast, signaling other ships to fall into line and set sail.





An hour later, with good wind filling up the great sail, Dusan's ship, being at the head of the column, left the harbour waters and sailed into the Adriatic sea. Night was already deep, and water underneath the ship was pitch black. Three lanterns were lit, one on the bow, second one on the top of the mast, and the third at the back castle, beside the flag.

Dusan was standing on the back castle, looking down the white trail the ship was leaving beihind. He could see lanterns of the ship that followed, the "St. Nicholas", Tsar's ship, hundred meteers further; from there he heared songs and cheers of a happy feast. But Minister's heart was sinking with every mile they made away from the shores, sinking deeper than the depths of the water underneath them...
Eventually, around midnight, he left the castle and went below into his sleeping quateers. There was no cabin, just a small section divided from the rest of the underdeck by a black cotton courtain.
But he couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. Finally, around dawn, he fell into some restless dream, that he couldn't remember in the morning, but that brought him no rest, just misery.

Suddenly, he was being waken up by Porfirious.
- My lord, my lord! Wake up! My lord wake up! They are here! They are here!
Dusan, still grogy from that difficult dream he had, shouted:
- What? What is it now? Who came? Who is here?
- The Byzantines, my lord! The Excubitors! They are here!

Dusan jumped on his feet, throwing the blankets aside, grabbing Porfirius over his arms.
- You are joking.
- No, my lord, I would never do such thing! They are here, they cought up with us during the night. Now the whole squadron has anchored, and the leaders of Excubitors are being greeted on the board of "St. Nicholas" as we speak.
Minister couldn't believe his words.
- Porfirius, my best clothing, now! Silver belt, and that ornamented german dagger. Washboard and clean towels. - he yelled at the poor soldier. The euphoria was there again: his hands were shaking like he was some old man. - what are you waiting for, Porfirious?! Come on, come on!

Hurry, hurry! Let’s hurry a little more, my brave soldiers. The night will fall soon and the Serbian armies will sail away without us.

Camy ridding her new young horse Light Angel, was pushing as more as she could the tired soldiers of the Excubitors army to advance quicker.

They were on the roads for so many months: they’ve traveled South first, to meet, in a friendly fight the Finn’s army, then headed North to Poland, trying to give a helping hand against the bloodthirsty army of Pechenegs. After a long journey, disquieting news arrived from their lands. Serbian’s lands had been attacked by the Sicilians without any previous warning. Her heart started to tremble, thinking at her beloved Dusan. Being on the roads for so long, she had received some news about his victories in the Croatian Turney, news that made her so proud of him. But it was so hard for her to be again apart from him for so long time. She was writing him daily, telling him how much she misses him, his burning kisses and his strong arms around her, keeping her safe… but very rarely she could find an available messenger to send them to him.

Until one day, when a messenger came from Smelgar, their Protosebastos, with new orders. The Excubitors army had to change their route, and, as fast as possible, to arrive near Epirus to help defending the Serbian lands against Sicilians. Receiving the message Camy’s heart throbbed of happiness. Finally, after so many months she will be close to him, again. Her heart full of love gave her wings to ride faster… just her and her heart, thinking at the happiness of seeing her Love again. But the rest of the army was coming so slowly after her, that she was forced for so many times to forget about her happiness and turn back to reach them again.

News spread around Europe so fast and the glorious victory of the Serbians against Sicilian army reached them quickly. A great sadness took over her mind and soul knowing that the Sicilian army being totally defeated, their help will not be needed anymore. So, they stopped for a while in Vidin asking for new orders for the army. How great was her surprise and joy when the new orders arrived! Their mission didn’t changed too much. They had to continue their journey towards Epirus and join the Serbian armies, as soon as possible, in their punishing campaign against the Sicilians.

It seemed that the Stars from above were on their side this time… and they will finally meet, again. Just thinking at the happy moments in his arms, moments that seemed to be closer and closer, she pushed her companions to walk faster and faster.

The Serbia armies scheduled their departure towards the Sicilian’s lands at the middle of July… so they should’ve reached Epirus before that day. But the road was long and dangerous and the Excubitors succeeded to reach Epirus region only on 16th of July. A few hours before sunset, the city of Epirus appeared in front of them at horizon.

Sabbas, I will go ahead to make all the arrangements needed to sail as soon as the rest of the regiment will reach the port. We can’t make the our Serbian brothers to wait for us to long. Please take care and not slow down the pace. We have to catch the Serbian Armies before their leaving.

Sabbas smiled, knowing too well why his Lady was such in a hurry. Master Dusan was leading one of the Serbian armies…

Go, my Lady, go. We’ll catch up with you in Epirus. I will take care to arrive in no time.

He hasn’t finished his words when she jumped on the back of her Light Angel and stormed on the road towards Epirus. Sabbas stayed for a few moments looking after his Lady, until her long blond hair flying on the winds wings was not visible anymore. Maybe, God will be merciful this time and will permit these two young hearts to be finally together.

Then turned towards soldiers: Common boys, let’s hurry a little. Time is not waiting for us.

Light Angel rode so fast that it seemed to fly above the ground carrying its mistress to her beloved one. The sun was completely engulfed by the quiet waters of the Ionian Sea when Camy entered into the town of Epirus. She rode as fast as she could towards the harbor. Coming closer to the docks she could see the Serbian ships sailing away.

We are late. My Dear God, Dusan already left. and small tears appeared in her eyes.

Arriving to the docks she looked for the harbor master. As the day was almost over, she found him together with his men drinking for the day that just has passed, in the small tavern located near docks. Fortunately, it seemed that the entire town knew about their arrival and their purpose. The harbor master offered them the fastest ship that was left at the docks and sent his men back on the docks to wait for Excubitors arrival. Soon after midnight Excubitors reached Epirus docks. All the soldiers, and even Camy, helped the dock's workers to load their provisions, weapons and horses on the boat. The Excubitors army was not a great one, it consisted in not so many soldiers, but they were ones of the best of the Empire. So the loading was made quickly.

My Lady, considering the small loading of your boat compared with the ones of our armies' ships, and knowing too well this ship and its captain… I say that until tomorrow at noon you’ll reach our fleet. said to Camy the harbor master when everything was on board. May the God watch over you and give you good wind, My Lady. We will pray for our soldiers and Byzantium’s soldiers’ success in punishing those who attacked us the innocents.

Camy thanked to the harbor master for all his help and gave the order to set sail.

The emotions of seeing her Love after so many months chased away her sleep. She stood all night on the deck just scouting the immense water fields around them. The harbor master was right and the ship sailed easily on the sea waves, being pushed gently forward by the wind. Finally, a few hours after the sun sprung from the waters, she saw some ships at the horizon. With all its vales up in the wind, they quickly approached the group of ships.

The Serbian flag of Camy’s boat was spotted by one of the ships from the group. Its captain anchored and signaled the others to do the same and wait for the new ship to come closer and declare their reasons for being in those waters. Hearing who was on board of the new arrived ship and knowing that one of the Byzantine armies will come to help them fighting the Sicilians, he announced quickly St. Nicholas’s captain; "St. Nicholas" being the Tsar's ship.

Camy still standing on the deck watched the short discussion between those two captains. Her heart was beating faster and faster… her Love was on board of one of those ships…. so close but still too far away from her. Small boats were sailing between the ships carrying the news and orders. She watched all of them, her body trembling at every one of them, hopping to see Him coming in one. One last boat came and her boat’s captain approached:

My Lady, excuse me for disturbing you, but I received the order to invite you and the other leaders of your army on St. Nicholas board. Our leaders wish to great you.

Hearing this words all of her body started to tremble of emotions. With a low and shivering voice she asked him:

Captain, do you know if the Serbian Minister of War is also on board of St. Nicholas?

No, My Lady. He is not on St.Nicholas. He is on board of the leading ship, but probably he will come also to meet you and your brave soldiers.

A little happy smile covered Camy’s face while they were waiting for the two ships to come close enough to allow them to board St. Nicholas. But the emotions were so strong that she needed Sabbas help to cross aboard. Her legs were shaking, her heart was beating so hard that she hardly managed to stay on her feet, leaning on Sabbas arm... and waiting for the Serbian leaders to appear.

... It took almost a full hour to steer the ship around, get it closer to the flagship, anchor it safely in its vicinity. Once it was done, Stefan Dusan Nemanjic, captain and three men, all dressed like for a feast, sat in a small boat and rowed off to the St. Nicholas. First mate was left to take care of the ship whilst they're away.

The sea was wavy that day, and the gray clouds sailed low above the sea. The air smelled of rain. On the eastern horizon, there was a bright line underneath the clouds - a sign, as captain said, that a storm is coming.
- It will come tonight - said captain Nikola, a strong, one eyed man (lost his left eye in the battle with the Moors, three years ago, near Malta) - and it will hit us hard. We better finish up quickly on the St. Nicholas - if we don't spread up til nightfall, we might end up crushing at each other.
- Noted - responded Dusan, standing tall on the bow of the boat. He was wearing his best hazdia, best white shirt made of silk and beautifully carved high black boots that he obtained from the Sarazens. Above his right shoulder Rundig's pomell shone demonicaly; on his belt of pure silver there was a german dagger with golden inlays in shape of birds. His long, dark hair flew freely on the strong sea breeze, and his eyes, blue like the seas, were bright and clear, and directed on the ship in front of them.

He didn't really care for the upcoming storm - or closer, he seemed to understand what captain Nikola said, but somehow felt like he was talking about something from the distant future, something irrelevant at the present moment. The only thing that mattered now was that with every time row plunged into the cold water, it was taking him closer to her; with every meteer they crossed, his heart was drumming faster, like a war drum, and the strange feeling in his throat blocking him from speaking grew stronger.
"Yes, there is a storm coming", he thought, his face pale and serious,"but anoither one, far more deadlier, already rages inside me."

Fog was rising from nowhere around them, as they slowly made their way to the flagship.

- The password? - called some voice from above when they docked beside St. Nicholas.
- Throw that bloody rope down here, will ya boy? - shouted captain Nikola - don't think I don't recognize your voice, Marko. Stop playing games, or you'll be thrown overboard. The War Minister is here.

Moments later, rope ladders appeared in front of them. The myst was so deep now that they couldn't see nothing above - it seemed like the ladders came out from nothing. Dusan grabbed them and litteraly flew up. Soon, he and his men stood on the deck of Tsar's ship. There was so many people around them that they couldn't make one step without hiting into someone.
- It's crowded here alright - said the captain, his only eye rolling of disaproval.
- My Lord Minister! - called a voice to the left from them. When they finally found out whom it was, Dusan answered.
- Greetengs to you, Duke. Direct us in the direction of the throne cabin if you please, as we're in a hurry.
- Just make your way through these fine Byzantine gentlemen over there. The place you are looking for is right through that red door.

Dusan nodded, and led the company through the Greeks. Some of them knew him from his time in Byzantium and cheered; with a few he even had to stop and have a drink. Once he was finally free, he stormed down the deck and was permitted by the guard to enter the throne cabin.

Inside there were many figures, too many for the chamber of that size. Through smoke and pale lights, he spotted Tsar's throne. Luckily, the guard announced his presence, which made his life much easier. Everybody stepped aside, making just enough room for him and captain Nikola to step forward and kneel before the Tsar.

And so they did. The Tsar greeted them warmly, offered them food and drink, and then introduced the War Minister to the Excubitors envoys. Dusan's heart throbbed. He spotted in dusky enviroement lord Kokoon, and several other famous Byzantines.
- Where is your leader, fine gentlemen? - he asked with a temperate, even tone (or he tried to sound like that, but he failed completely, and all he produced were low, murmoring, almost unreadable sounds) - Where is Protoasekreta?

Kokoon and the others, even the Tsar himself, laughed. It was a friendly laugh, as they all knew what Dusan's feelings were for Lady Camy, but he found it very irritating, and anger started to rise inside him. He turned his back to them without a word, ready to leave.

But then, like in a dream, he saw her. She was dressed in a fine, Byzantine mail, that just wasn't able to hide her beautiful figure; perfectly polished metal shone like a thousand gems on the torch light. Her long golden hair was falling down her strait back almost reaching the vaist. "Oh, how lovely that hair is!" But her eyes... Her emerald eyes were pinning him down, destroying him, taking him up to heavens, everything in one moment.
She just stood there for the whole time, in the crowd, looking at him as he was making a fool of himself! He was so angry, and so awfully in love that he couldn't bare not to laugh. It was a tiny, happy smile, which got a response moments later: she was also smiling, looking at him, with her hands on her hips.

Dusan turned to Tsar.
- Your highness, I must beg my leave. And leave for her ladyship protoasekreta as well.
Tsar nodded, smiling.
- My lords...
The Minister then stepped back and came closer to his beloved. There was no need for words - their eyes were saying everything. He took her by the hand, and together they left the throne cabin.

Through masses they walked, smiling to each other, still not speaking a word; not a single tme did Dusan let her lovely hand go. He led the way across the deck, and found Captain Nikola (who followed him out from Tsar's cabin, as there was no need for him to be there anymore).
- Back to the "Raven", my Lord? - he said before the two could say one word.
Dusan turned to his love.
- If her ladyship wishes to.
Camy smiled and nodded.
- Nik, there was never a more beautiful order for us, was it?

Captain gathered the men and before you could say three Pater Noster's, they were in the boat, and sailing over the waves to Dusan's ship. Once they arrived, Dusan helped Camy up the ladders, and took her again by her hand, leading her to the back castle. Up there, only one man stood leaning on the fense, staring into the vast seas to the south.
- Find something else to do, Dragomire. - Dusan said, with voice that could not be refused.
- M'Lord.

With soldier's leaving, the back castle was all theirs. The myst was even thicker up there than on the level of the sea; they felt like they were all alone in the world. Merry voices could be heard from St. Nicholas and other ships of the squadron, but it seemed like they were far away, from some different, distant world.
With white fog closing around them, they felt like they were in some fairy tale. It was then that Dusan took Camy into his arms again, lifted her from the ground, and kissed her.
And she answered. How sweet were her lips, after so many months they were appart!
- I missed you so much... - he whispered to her ear, once the first wave of kisses halted for a second. Suddenly, in the heat of the moment, a thought appeared in Dusan's mind, a thought so powerful, that he had to share it with his beloved. He lowered her slowly down and once her feet touched the deck, he fell upon his right knee, gazing into her sweet eyes from below, holding her hand.
- Marry me, my love. Marry me now, here, on this ship.

Time was passing too slow on the board of St. Nicholas. The Byzantine group had been received by the Tzar himself in his throne cabin. After the courtesy greetings, they all had been invited to a small banquet with delicious meals and drinks. Camy let her companions to enjoy the drinks and went into a corner of the room, from where she could see all the people present inside. She just stood there, watching with glittering eyes the cabin’s room, every time the door opened… but followed every time by a big disappointment. Her heart was beating faster and faster, like she was just trying to escape from her chest and run to look for Him on the surrounding ships.

He should had been already announced that we are here... that I am here; why is he not coming? her mind was continuing asking while her eyes were scouting everyone in the room.

And time was passing… an hour passed… an hour that she felt like an eternity. Suddenly, one voice filled the room:

His excellence, Prince Stefan Dusan Nemanjic, Serbian Minister of War!

Her heart shuddered, pumping faster and faster the blood through her veins. Hot waves started to climb on her shivering body, from her feet to her face. She turned her head towards the door and saw Him. So handsome in those elegant clothes, he entered the room with sure movements watching everybody with his beautiful, sky-like eyes. She looked at him, noticing, again, how tall it was compared with the others. She continued to look at him, charmed by his stature and elegant gestures. All the surroundings started to dissipate, seeing only him, advancing through the mass of people, towards Tsar’s throne. Everyone vanquished… remaining just him and her. But he was not seeing her. With her eyes fixed on him, she advanced through the crowd. Suddenly she noticed him turning around towards the door with an angry look on his face. Instinctively, her arms jumped up wide open ready to hold him in a very tight hug, but she became aware of the surroundings again (it wouldn’t have been appropriate to hug him as she wanted to, in this type of meeting) and pulled them back on her hips. Continuing to look at him, her eyes met His. Those eyes, those beautiful blue eyes which charmed her for the beginning; eyes that she dreamed off in every single one of her lonely nights. He smiled… and she barely stopped herself not to run into his arms and seal that smile on his lips with a kiss. He was more handsome when he smiled; his eyes became brighter and their blue, deeper and deeper when his lips curved into a smile. She smiled back to him… a happiness that she only felt with him, taking over her heart and mind. She heard him talking, without understanding what he was saying... the sound of his voice just filling her ears and running to her heart. Then, just like in a dream, he came to her, took her hand and guided her outside the room. From that moment she hasn’t felt anything else than the warm touch of his hand, keeping hers. She let herself guided by him, looking just into his eyes… smiling happily. She couldn’t yet believe that, finally, they were together…again. It was like in a dream… the most beautiful dream.

They reached the deck. He asked her if she wishes to go on his ship. She wanted to answer and say that she will go anywhere he wants to… but being so afraid that hearing her own voice will awaken her and made her realize that all was a dream, she jus nodded and smiled to him. And the dream continued. In short time, who seemed just a few seconds for her, they were on the “Raven”. Taking her hand again, he led her into the fog, to the back castle.

There, he took her into his arms, lifted her from the ground, and kissed her. Just then, feeling his heart beating close to hers, feeling his strong back under her fingertips and his warm lips touching hers, she realized that all was real… it was not a dream. He was there … with her. She answered to his kiss. Her lips tried to make him feel how much she missed him during all those months, how much she needed him to be close to her; as he was in those moments. He stopped for a second, whispering into her ear how much he missed her. She looked at him, tightened her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back with so much passion and with all the power of her love for him. They kissed and caressed each other for long moments trying to compensate all the lonely nights they’ve spent apart.

At one moment, he let her down from his arms and fell upon his right knee, taking her left hand into his. He looked into her eyes…

QUOTE:
- Marry me, my love. Marry me now, here, on this ship.

The fog was surrounding them again… the same as it did on that night on the Dukljan Castle’s walls when their hearts found each other, when their lips touched for the first time, when he asked her to be his wife. She made at that time a wrong choice… and that choice almost killed him once and continued to keep them apart. So, without any emotion or restraint, she looked into his eyes, put her right hand upon his and said with clear voice, but full with all the love from her heart:

- Yes, my Love! I will marry you wherever you want… on this ship if you want; whenever you want … right now if you want! The only important thing for me, now, is to make you happy... to love you with all my body and soul for all of our life.

QUOTE:
Yes, my Love! I will marry you wherever you want... on this ship if you want; whenever you want... right now if you want! The only important thing for me, now, is to make you happy... to love you with all my body and soul for all of our life.

... These words echoed in his thoughts stronger than a hundred storms; more piercing than the lightnings of Zeus himself; sweeter even than arrows of the beautiful Apollo. Dusan's mind had a lot of trouble processing them, even after a couple of moments; her perfect, emerald eyes were looking into his own, with such strength and emotion that he couldn't pronounce not a single word more. He lost himself in those green lakes, green as the pastures of Elysium, filled with love and pure happiness. He leaned his head onto the mail covering her sweet belly and hugged her with all the love that burned inside him: there was no happier man on this World, and there will never exist one as long as She is beside him. Camy ran her fingers through his hair: it felt like he was being carrassed by a goddess. His own Goddess... His Camy...

He stepped back a little, still on his knees, and gazed at her.
She was more beautiful than ever. Her silky, golden hair surrounded her lovely face as a divine, enlightning aura: somehow, it seemed that it glows with a low, but bright light; her shapes were even more distinctive then before - these were indeed breath-taking... In one moment, a thought rushed through his mind, a thought that set aflame whole of his body - that woman before him, that goddess of beauty... She is to become his wife. She is to become his, in both mind and body; they will share everything, and they will become one in front of God... He shievered,even though he was not cold: it was a shiever of joy, of anticipation, of happiness that the waiting was finally over.

Years passed... Years that seemed like centuries. Dusan remembered the first time they met, on the duelling grounds in Constantinople: he was a young lad back then, inexperienced, sent to Byzantium by his father, Stefan Decanski, to become a man. His Love was already a skilled warrior, a knight pure in heart and feared by many. Their only exercise lasted longer than anyone from the audience would've expected. Everybody thought Camy would deal with this Serbian boy easily, sending him down into the dirt of the arena after two or three strikes. "Oh, Dusan remembered, how she was lovely that day!" She wore a light armor, as they only practised - how her moves were gracious while she walked to face him. And afterwards, when the parry started - her moves were cat-like, her strong legs jumped easily all around him, setting her in a position to strike...
Dusan had to admit - during that fight, he did give all he had (which was not nearly enough to even scratch his sweet lady) but it seemed to him now (he smiled) that he spent more time looking at her beautiful figure, then fighting. Not long after, she dealt a strong blow right over his head, which should've made him concentrate on the duel - but it didn't smarten him up. He kept looking at the moves she made, amazed by the shapes of her body, by her golden hair that flew freely while she ran to get him. Of course, soon after she struck him down and he ate so much dust from the ground that he couldn't clear his throat for the next three days.

Now that beautiful woman was standing in front of him, saying that she will marry him, that she will be his in both body and soul, for all time...

Dusan stood up. He was so proud of his lovely bride, so intoxicated by love, so happy...
- My Love - he said, taking her hands into his own again, looking at her eyes - My Love, if you truly mean this, if you really wish to become mine... Then I will send word to the Tsar that he should prepare to hold the wedding ceremony. He will bless our union, my sweetest Love, and so will the Patriarch I am sure - once, years ago, they gave us the blessings, now they will do the same. I do not wish to spend one more day without you... Not even one hour...
He took her again into his arms and kissed her - the sweetness of her lips made his blood run wild; her touches sent shievers throughout his whole body.

- Porfirious! - Dusan called, still holding Camy - Porfirious!
- Yes, m'Lord - answered the voice of the old soldier from inside the deep myst.
- Send word to the Tsar. Tell him he has a wedding ceremony to hold.
The soldier coughed.
- Here, my Lord? How? When?
Dusan and Camy smiled with whole their hearts that now beated so close to each other.
- Now, you old rag! - Prince yelled, smiling. - On St. Nicholas! Go, we're in a hurry!
- Right away, my Lord! I'm already flying!

As the sounds of old warrior running over deck vanished, Dusan and Camy hugged again, carressing each other, kissing, smiling... Surrounded by the thick fog, only her and him existed on the World in that moment, and the reality of their hearts beating next to each other...