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....