"You've got to do better than that!" he shouted, then charged forward, his own wooden sword aimed for his heart. Gatti knocked it to one side, barely in time, and the force of the blow momentarily numbed his hands. He brought his sword up and attacked, feinting left and cutting right, crying out in frustration as Dilandau smilingly blocked his every move.

"You know," he commented as he started to drive Gatti backwards, "I'll think I'll work out with Viole next time. At least he won't try to break my eardrums!" He lunged forward and pushed his second-in-command against the wall, bringing his kendo up towards his throat. Gatti got his sword up in time and the two wooden blades strained against each other. Suddenly Dilandau leaned forward and kissed him, thrusting his tongue into his mouth; instantly arousing him to an unbearable pitch. The warlord jumped back and brought his sword over his head with a flourish, grinning as he watched his second gasping in reaction.

"Well, come one, Gatti," he taunted. "Don't you want to get me?" Gatti slowly lowered his sword, calming himself by sheer force of will. He stepped away from the wall and tensed as his lord crouched down; then he brought his own kendo back in preparation to strike. And smiled.

"You'll have to get me this time, my lord," he snarled and Dilandau blinked in shock, then jumped forward with a scream of rage. Gatti ducked under the wild blow and, throwing his sword away, launched himself at him, knocking him backwards onto the floor. Gatti landed on top of him and their mouths suddenly locked together, their blood pounding.

Some time later, Gatti brushed the silver hair from his lord's forehead as he lay beside him, thinking about the last three weeks. Becoming Dilandau's lover was a dream he had never hoped to achieve, and he still was stunned by the reality. How long would it go on? He decided not to think about it, just revel in it while it lasted. His fingers gently stroked the white skin, tracing the hairline, and ran down the cheek, lightly touching the long scar. Dilandau knocked his hand away.

"I told you never to touch that," he snarled and sat up, his hand automatically reaching up to cover his cheek.

"Damn Van," he growled. "He ruined my perfection." Gatti sat up as well, concern filling him.

"You are perfect to me, my lord," he said softly. Dilandau gave a sharp sigh and looked away.

"Shut up, Gatti."

"But. . ." The warlord backhanded him, whipping his head to one side and cutting his lip.

"I said," he growled, red eyes glaring, "Shut. . .up." He got to his feet and began pulling on his clothes. Gatti followed suit, trying to ignore the pain in his cheek; in his heart.

"A month," Dilandau snarled, "A whole month I've been here; doing nothing!" He flipped his hair back and settled his diadem onto his forehead, scowling.

"Now I've got this asinine party to go to," he spat. "What the hell is it for again?"

"Zaibach's High Minister is celebrating his son's ascension here in Kyishi," Gatti replied. "General Gein is the boy's uncle." Dilandau rolled his eyes and headed for the door, Gatti following.

"So I get to waste my time on this crap, when I should be hunting the Dragon," the warlord snarled. He reached the door and stopped, turning to face him.

"Get the elite ready and meet me in the command center at 1900." He brought his hand up and gently caressed Gatti's cheek, a slight smile playing on his lips, then turned on his heel, opened the door and left.

* * *

Gatti smiled politely as he listened to the Freidian ambassador drone on. He was uncomfortably aware of the man's daughter, a pretty young woman of eighteen, who had been giving him seductive glances for the past half hour. Gatti knew he was a handsome man and the Dragonslayer uniform not only set off his body well but also carried the twin attractions of power and danger, so he was used to admiring gazes from both sexes. But this girl was so obvious! Only respect for her father's position kept him from simply turning and leaving them. Ambassador Tagawa eventually got done with extolling the virtues of his Duchy and Gatti took advantage of the break. He drained his wineglass and, with a soft murmur, excused himself, bowing to the ambassador and brushing his lips over the daughter's hand. She gripped his fingers for a moment and he suppressed a grimace, then gently pulled his hand free and took his leave.

He did a slow circuit of the large room, putting his empty glass onto a passing waiter's tray and picking up a full one, scanning the glittering crowd for the rest of the elite. Chesta was sitting on a couch, surrounded by adoring young girls. The blonde slayer could be very charming, and it was a rare occurrence when his every request wasn't granted instantly. Gatti smiled cynically. If only those girls knew what Chesta was really like. . .

He saw Miguel in an animated debate with a minor Kyishi nobleman, Dallet looking on with arms crossed and mouth curved into a sardonic smile. Gatti couldn't hear the conversation, but he noted Miguel's flushed cheeks and made a mental note to keep an eye on him. Although Dallet was very good at calming the darkhaired slayer down, he wasn't always successful.

Guimel was sitting on an ornate loveseat, flirting with an older noblewoman. The curlyhaired slayer was running one finger down her bare shoulder and whispering in her ear, causing the beautiful woman to blush and giggle. Guimel glanced up and Gatti caught his eye, shaking his head a little, then beckoned him over with a nod towards the nearby wall. The slayer frowned at him, then turned towards the lady and said something that caused her to blush even harder. He kissed her hand, then got up and walked over to him, eyebrows raised.

Gatti ignored him for the moment, searching for Viole. Damn the man, but he could blend in anywhere! Oh, there he was, sitting by the small chamber orchestra, a wineglass held carelessly in one hand, his face enraptured by the music. Gatti glanced at the slayer by his side.

"Careful Guimel," he murmured, "That woman is the wife of the mayor of Kyishi." Guimel leaned against the wall, a predatory smile appearing on the fair face.

"Of course," he replied. "I love a challenge." Gatti snorted, then scanned the room again, looking for Dilandau. He had been keeping an occasional watch upon him, noting with some dismay the look of irritated boredom that had marred the warlord's white features as he'd kept company with General Gein, the High Minister and the minister's son. The son, a young man of sixteen, was very good looking, and Gatti had had to quell his jealousy whenever he saw Dilandau speaking directly with him. He had been worried, with good reason, that his commander would seduce the boy out of sheer boredom. Gatti had lost sight of the small group when the Freidian ambassador had buttonholed him, and now all four were nowhere to be seen. The second-in-command impatiently searched the crowd again, then started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned with a scowl to Guimel.

"Quit looking for him," the slayer said with a smile.

"There's nothing wrong with a second-in-command keeping tabs on his commander," Gatti retorted. Guimel turned to a nearby waiter and took up a wineglass, then turned back towards him.

"There is when you look like a jealous lover," he said quietly. "Relax. The High Minister and his pretty son are over by the entrance." Gatti looked over and indeed the two were there, talking with Kyishi's mayor and chief justice. Relief flooded him and he cursed himself for his foolishness, but he had to ask:

"And Dilandau-sama?" Guimel grinned.

"What would you do without me?" he replied and Gatti scowled again, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. "Lord Folken finally arrived and he took both the general and Dilandau-sama off somewhere," the slayer continued. "To speak with the Emperor, I'll bet."

Suddenly, the Freidian ambassador was at his side, his face drawn with fear. His daughter was with him, and Gatti noted that she was giving Guimel her liquid gaze. The curlyhaired slayer smiled charmingly in response, green eyes sparkling. The ambassador put a hand on Gatti's shoulder and put his mouth up to his ear.

"Commander Gatti," he said urgently, "I need your help! My aides discovered an uninvited man trying to force his way into the main communications center. We think he may be a spy!" Gatti jerked his head away and stared at the man, who nodded vehemently. He frowned, thinking fast. Call for the Kyishi guards? No, this party was of some political importance; the best procedure would be to handle this quickly and quietly. Besides, why should they get all the fun? He looked about the room and saw that the rest of the slayers were watching him from their various locations, sensing something was wrong and waiting for his cue. He jerked his head towards a side door and walked quickly towards it, the ambassador and Guimel in tow, leaving the young woman behind with a vexed look on her face. Immediately the other slayers followed, weaving their way expertly through the crowd, causing not a ripple in the flow of the party.

"All right," he said quietly as they left the room and entered an empty corridor. "Where is he?" The ambassador immediately took off to his left and they followed him, their boots beating a rapid tattoo on the stone floor.

"What's up, Gatti-san?" Dallet asked, tossing his long hair back from his handsome face.

"Seems we've picked up a spy," he answered with a grin. It was good to escape from the party, and he felt a rise of anticipation at the upcoming interrogation. Dilandau wasn't the only one frustrated at their month of inactivity. Gatti saw the answering smiles on the faces of his men and knew they shared his feelings.

"Some action at last," Chesta said excitedly, large blue eyes glittering. Tagawa shuddered, and Gatti looked at him with contempt. Rabbit, he thought.

They reached a closed wooden door and the ambassador quickly opened it. Alarmed shouts rolled from the room and Gatti saw three Freidian aides thrown to the floor in various states of injury; a fourth struggling with a man of about twenty-five. Shoving the ambassador aside, he leapt into the room, the slayers on his heels, just as the man knocked the aide onto his back and jumped out one of the large windows behind him, crashing through the glass with a cry. As one, they charged after him, yelling out excitedly and crashing through the other windows. They landed on the lawn, the light of a full moon sparkling on the dew-laden grass, and took off after the fleeing figure. Shouting laughter as they ran, they gained quickly on the man, who was headed for the forest line that lay a hundred meters away. He made it into the woods before they caught up to him, but Gatti could see that they would catch him soon. The slayers were silent now, fanning out so they could encircle the fleeing figure; dark shadows flying through the woods.

The man staggered into a large clearing, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. Gatti was waiting for him, and the slayer grinned as he watched him jerk backwards in surprise. The man turned around but they had him surrounded now, their eyes glowing in the moonlight. Guimel grabbed him from behind and spun him around, patting his jacket quickly and removing a worn billfold. He knocked him to the ground, his armored glove cutting open the man's cheek, then opened the billfold and pulled out an ID card.

"Well, boys," he drawled, "Looks like we've got a Fanalian here." The man staggered to his feet and Miguel grabbed his arm, jerking him forward. He slid out the straight razor he kept in his boot and flipped it open.

"You're a long way from home," he snarled, then grinned. "What's left of it, anyway." Quick as lightning he sliced the man from elbow to wrist, then pushed him towards Dallet. The slayer seized his hair and pulled his head as far back as it would go, his bared teeth glistening. The man gave out a strangled gasp as he leaned close to his ear.

"You crashed the wrong party, old man," he whispered and shoved him back into the middle of clearing. The slayers began to circle him, slowly tightening the ring while the man sat on the ground, clutching his bloody arm to his chest and watching them in helpless terror. Gatti felt the hot blood pounding in his veins as they drew in; he could hear Chesta panting in excitement. Suddenly, he saw shadows move in the woods. A lot of shadows. He jumped forward and, grabbing the man's jacket front, hauled him up and threw him out of the ring.

"Slayers!" he barked, "Circle!" Instantly they whirled, kitanas screeching out of their scabbards, and backed up until their shoulders touched, swords held at the ready, scanning the trees. Gatti saw a wild grin split the man's fear-gaunt face as he stumbled out of the clearing, and within seconds they were surrounded by armored warriors with drawn swords; far, far too many to fight.

"Oh, fuck," he heard Guimel breathe next to him.

* * *

Dilandau strode down the corridor, red eyes blazing with excitement. At last, at last the waiting was over! It was past midnight, but who cared? The Hamatians had finally decided to disperse their waiting forces, and Emperor Dornkirk had found the Dragon. With the use of his Fate Prognostication Machine, the emperor had seen the Escaflowne in the extensive woods that divided Asturia and Freid. And where the Dragon was, Van was. Dilandau's hand came up and one finger traced the scar as a cruel smile curved his lips. He couldn't wait! He threw open the door of the elite's sleeping room and entered.

"Gatti! Chesta! Dallet!" he barked, throwing on the lights. Then he stopped in surprise: the room was empty. His forehead knotted in rage and he stomped out, heading for the lesser ranks' quarters. He reached the room in moments and slammed open the door, his hand smacking the light switch as he stomped in. Eighteen young men leaped out of their bunks and snapped to attention, eyes forward, instantly awake.

"Jared!" he shouted and the young slayer ran up to him, dropping to one knee and putting his right fist on the floor.

"Hai!" he yelled. Dilandau glared at the bowed head, suppressing the urge to kick it.

"Where are my elite?" he snapped and the Jared looked up in surprise, eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Th, the last I saw them, they were leaving for the party with you, my lord" he stammered out, then immediately dropped his face back down. Smart boy, Dilandau thought.

"All right!" he growled, "Take six of the men and find out what happened to them at that damn party! I don't care who you have to torture, just get me answers!" Jared leapt to his feet and ran down the line of slayers, picking out his team. Dilandau began to pace back and forth, trying to calm his fury enough to think straight. Who was that baka that had cornered Gatti most of the night? Oh, that's right. . . He stopped and smirked.

"Genki!" he shouted. The slayer ran up and knelt before him.

"Get me the Freidian Ambassador," he said, his voice deadly quiet, then left the quarters and stalked to his command center. Throwing himself into his chair, he glared at the empty room.

"When I get my hands on you six. . ." he growled, his hands clenching.

* * *

Gatti rested his forehead on one of the cold iron bars that fronted their cell, thinking furiously. How could they have been so stupid? But who would have thought that Freid and Fanalia would make a secret alliance? The shame of their capture paled to that of what was to follow: they were going to be taken to the burnt kingdom to stand trial.

Never, Gatti thought, remembering the smug look of Ambassador Tagawa as he had told them their fate. The ambassador had arrived after the warriors had disarmed them in the clearing, surrounded by his bodyguards, and had examined their sullen, defiant faces with approval. Giving the order to lay down their arms was one of the hardest things Gatti ever had to do, but the odds had been too great against them. He glanced over to where Miguel sat on the floor, frowning at the two black eyes and swollen jaw the slayer now sported. Miguel had given up his kitana with great reluctance, and had launched himself at their captors when they had taunted him about the ease with which they had been caught. Three grown men had proceeded to rough him up, and it was a minor miracle that they hadn't broken his nose in the process. Which was a good thing, Gatti thought sourly, since Dilandau required near-perfection in his men's looks. The second-in-command couldn't repress a slight shudder at the thought of the warlord's inevitable rage, and he felt a stab of pain at failing him as well. Then he hardened his resolve. Better death than to shame his lord and the Empire.

The ambassador had left after his announcement of their impending trial, adding that an airship would be arriving in the morning to take them to Fanalia. They had been chained together, marched to a nearby fortress on the Hamatian side of the border and locked up in the dungeon. Gatti suppressed the urge to slam the bars with his fist, his teeth grinding in frustration. He looked back into the cell at the other slayers.

Dallet was standing, leaning up against the wall by Miguel, his arms crossed and face thoughtful, shivering a little in the cool air. The guards had taken their armored jackets and gloves along with their kitanas, leaving them in their sleeveless undershirts, black pants and armored boots. The men had overlooked Miguel's hidden razor, but Gatti couldn't see a use for it as yet. He looked over to the far wall where Viole sat, his arms wrapped around his legs, a faint smile on his face. Probably thinking about that damn music. Guimel was standing close to Gatti, calmly studying the lone guard on the other side of the bars. A burly man of forty, he spat on the floor as he caught their scrutiny, then insultingly turned his face away, whistling tunelessly. Chesta was farther along the bars, his hands clutching the cold iron and his head bowed.

"We are so dead," the young slayer whispered. The guard laughed.

"Yeah, that trial in Fanalia is only the beginning," he snarled. "We've been waiting to get you boys for quite awhile now." He licked his lips in anticipation, then scowled as Dallet snorted, tossing his hair back.

"He's not talking about you bakas," he said contemptuously, then suddenly paled. "Dilandau-sama. . ." Gatti shut him up with a look, then walked over to Chesta. The slayer looked up at him, blue eyes bright with unshed tears, and he ruffled the golden hair playfully, smiling reassuringly. Chesta gave back a tentative smile in return, and Gatti caressed his cheek, then returned to his original spot, his brow furrowed in thought again. The best plan he could come up with was to attempt an escape as they were escorted to the airship. If they were successful, they could get back to Kyishi; if not, they would be killed and honor would be satisfied. Not much of a plan, but what were their options?

He was turning towards Guimel, ready to gather the slayers together and work out the details, when the heavy wooden door of the dungeon creaked open. The guard crouched, his hand on his kitana hilt, then relaxed as Ambassador Tagawa's daughter appeared, three bodyguards flanking her. Gatti raised his eyebrows, then shot Guimel a look. The curlyhaired slayer was already smiling, the green eyes coldly calculating.

"My lady?" the guard asked but she ignored him, looking over the slayers with appraising eyes, softly stroking her neck with one slender hand. She took a teasing step forward and the man cried out a warning and advanced, blocking her path. She glared at him.

"Make way, Gerder," she ordered and her bodyguards stepped up. The guard didn't move.

"Your father. . ." he started but she interrupted him with a high laugh.

"He doesn't know I'm here, and it'll stay that way, do you understand?" she snapped and he backed down, frowning but obeying. He returned to his post and crossed his arms.

"My lady," Guimel called softly and she turned back towards the cell, gazing at the slayer, a blush blooming on her cheeks. Gatti and Chesta faded back from the bars as he stepped up to them, and the young woman took another step forward, her bodyguards close by.

"Did you come down here to comfort us with your gentle voice and lovely face?" the slayer asked caressingly, "or perhaps it was for something else?" She crossed her arms and slowly smiled.

"Perhaps the latter," she said coyly. "I've heard about the Dragonslayers, how dangerous you are, how skilled you are at swordplay." She arched her eyebrows innocently. "Are you good at anything else?" Guimel smiled and stepped back, slowly stripping off his undershirt to reveal the well-toned body beneath. He rotated before her, letting her get a good long look, and when he stopped, facing the bars, she had stepped up to them, her hands gripping the hard iron. The green eyes gleamed as he gently took one of her hands and placed it on his neck, then slowly drew it down the muscled chest, down the hard stomach, and stopped just as he reached the waistband of his pants. She was breathing a little fast now, but he stayed her hand when she strove to push it farther down, smilingly shaking his head and glancing towards the scowling guard.

"Release him!" she ordered, her voice shrill. The guard gaped at her.

"Are you insane? Never!" The young woman jerked her hand from Guimel's and angrily faced him. Then she calmed down and smiled enticingly, her eyes roving along his body.

"What's the matter, Gerder?" she asked huskily. "Worried I don't have enough to go around?" The guard continued to gape at her as she gracefully approached him, reaching her arms up about his neck and pressing her body against his. He didn't resist as she used one hand to pull his face down to hers, the other hand sliding down into the front of his pants. The three bodyguards watched them impassively, keeping only a casual eye on the slayers.

"Guimel," Gatti said quietly and the slayer turned to face him.

"Wow," Guimel whispered. "That girl knows what she wants." Gatti frowned at the feral look in his eyes.

"Don't kill her," he said softly. "And don't hurt her too much." Guimel raised his eyebrows.

"Why, Gatti, you old softy," he smiled, then his eyes grew cold. "She's the enemy."

"She's a silly bitch who has no idea of the fire she's playing with," Gatti quietly countered. "Now, obey me." Guimel sulked for a moment, then gave him his most charming smile.

"Hai, Gatti-san," he whispered and bowed his head. The young men looked over to the couple as the guard suddenly gasped and clutched the girl to him, then slowly let her go. Smiling, she drew the key from his pants pocket and approached the cell door. Her bodyguards drew their swords and crowded up around her as she inserted the key into the lock.

"Back, all of you but him," one of them growled and the slayers obliged, gliding to the far wall without a sound. Guimel slipped through the partly opened door and the bodyguard quickly slammed it shut, withdrawing the key and tossing it to the quiescent guard. The slayer ignored the three men, their swords trained on him, and tucked the young woman's hand into his arm, playfully pulling at a stray lock of her hair.

"Tell me, my dear," Gatti heard Guimel say as they exited the dungeon, "What exactly have you heard about us Dragonslayers?"

* * *

Dilandau smirked as Ambassador Tagawa was brought before him, flanked by Genki and Jared. He slowly pulled off his right glove, examining the quivering man with a contemptuous sneer. Rabbit, he thought; how in hell did he capture my men? Gatti will have a lot of explaining to do. He scowled, thinking of his second-in-command, then brought himself back to the present situation. He did a slow, cruel smile.

"What have you done with my slayers?" he asked. The shaking ambassador seemed to gather courage from somewhere and stood up straight.

"How dare you abduct me from my quarters?" he demanded shrilly. Dilandau rolled his eyes and looked at his slayers. Jared hauled back and slammed his fist into the man's stomach, driving the air out of his lungs and leaving him gasping in pain. Genki socked him in the jaw and he gave an breathless scream, blood running out of his mouth. The two slayers caught his arms as he collapsed, his head lolling forward. Dilandau waited, examining his fingernails, until the ambassador's gasping quieted. Then he looked down at him, his eyes cold as death. Tagawa stared back, mesmerized, and the warlord suppressed a shudder of distaste at the thought of having to touch such a contemptible worm. Sighing, he drew a long dagger from a sheath in the sleeve of his jacket and held it up, admiring the sharp sheen of the steel in the lamplight. Then he stood up and slowly approached the trio, waving the blade lazily before the ambassador's suddenly terrified eyes.

"I'll, I'll tell you," the man stammered out as the blood drained from his face. Dilandau smiled and a spark of excitement lit the great red eyes. The two slayers tightened their grip on the ambassador, their eyes suddenly bright.

"I know you will," he whispered. "Again, and again, and again. . ."

* * *

Gatti paced before the bars, hands clasped behind his back and brow furrowed. What the hell was taking Guimel so long? The second figured twenty minutes tops - ten minutes to get to whatever bedroom the girl was taking him to, five minutes to knock her out and kill her bodyguards, and five minutes to run back to the dungeon. But over forty minutes had passed. Gatti suddenly stopped and let out a soft sound of disgust. He's screwing her. Of course. Baka! he thought angrily, I don't care if you're my best friend; you'll answer for this one.

Suddenly he caught the faintest creak coming from the dungeon door, and he shot a glance at the guard. The man was scowling at the floor, rubbing himself absently. Gatti looked at the other slayers and saw that they had heard it too; they were now on their feet, staring at him. Waiting. He nodded, then turned towards the guard.

"Hey!" he shouted and the man jerked his head up and glared at him. "Wishing you were with them, or just watching?" The guard's mouth dropped open, then clamped shut with a snarl. Gatti laughed derisively at him and he came forward, his hand dropping down to his kitana. The dungeon door crashed open and the guard began to turn his head before suddenly arching forward, a spray of blood rising from behind him. The guard fell with a crash and Guimel was revealed, spattered with blood and grinning from ear to ear. He fished out the cell key from the guard's pocket and quickly opened the door. The slayers poured out and Gatti stalked over to him, his face dark.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled and Guimel smiled easily.

"I had to give her some pleasure for her pain," he replied and Gatti slapped him. Guimel took the blow, stumbling a little, then straightened and stared at him, the green eyes turning killer for a moment. Then he laughed and bowed deeply, presenting him his bloody sword.

"Forgive me, Gatti-san," he said, looking up at him with a grin. Gatti shook his head and pushed him back, smiling reluctantly. He took the guard's kitana and gestured towards the door.

"How many swords have you got?" he asked as they exited the dungeon. Guimel knelt down at the entrance and took up two more kitanas and a short sword that were laying on the floor.

"Three from the bodyguards and this little sword from our adventurous miss," he replied and gave the three blades to him. He tossed one of the kitanas to Chesta and one to Miguel, then gave the short sword to Dallet.

"Viole," he said, "take point!" The slayer nodded, the dark brown eyes narrowing. Miguel offered him his razor, but he shook his head.

"I won't need it," he said with a cold smile. They took off, rapidly striding down corridors and up stairs. They left the fortress without incident and were soon running through the streets of the town in tight formation, weapons out and ready, silent as ghosts.

They reached the main gates and Gatti swore: although the gates themselves were open, there were at least ten men guarding it, swords drawn and eyes alert. The guards shouted out an alarm as they caught sight of them and the slayers charged, howling. Viole ducked, quick as lightning, under the nearest guard's sword and leapt up, snapping the man's neck with the edge of his hand. Chesta slashed through one guard's stomach then, pirouetting gracefully, ran his kitana through another man's chest. Miguel and Dallet jumped into the fray, the darkhaird slayer decapitating one guard while the longhaired slayer shoved his short sword through another. Guimel yelled and sliced a guard down the front, then parried a wild blow from another before Gatti killed the man from behind. The second-in-command twisted low, a blade whistling over his head, then brought his kitana up and back and disembowled its owner. The rest of the guards stumbled away and the gates were clear, but he heard several shouts behind them and the tramping of running feet. They dashed through the gateway, over a short wooden bridge and into the meadow beyond.

"The woods!" he shouted, "We've got to reach the woods!" The trees stood, bathed in the setting moon, some hundreds of meters away. Once there, he knew, they would be impossible to catch, and Kyishi lay on the other side of the forest. They ran, gasping for breath, the sounds of their pursuers growing closer. Gatti risked a quick look back and cursed: there were at least thirty armed townsmen behind them and they were gaining on them at an incredible rate. Facing forward, he saw Chesta glance back and pale.

"We're not going to make it!" the blonde slayer cried out and Miguel instantly turned with a scream of rage.

"Stop him!" Gatti shouted as the slayer started back towards the crowd of armored men. Dallet spun and leapt after him, just managing to catch the back of his undershirt and causing both young men to tumble to the ground. The rest of the slayers pounded up to them as they jumped to their feet and Gatti shoved them all towards the woods.

"MOVE!" he bellowed and they flew like the wind, but the men were almost upon them. Gatti wanted to scream in frustration. What a way to die! He looked up and saw the air shimmering ten meters ahead of them, and his eyes widened as he recognized a stealth cloak.

"DOWN!" he shrieked and all six flattened themselves on the ground as a red armored arm parted the cloak, the liquid metal ports already smoking. Fire erupted from the multiple openings, bathing the townsmen and turning the meadow into an inferno. Gatti turned over and looked back, shielding his face from the instense heat. Their pursuers were screaming, dying in seconds in the flames as the fire swept back and forth, then moved onwards to the town itself. The wooden barrier and buildings immediately went up, and he could see people screaming and running about, utterly panicked. The overhead fire storm stopped and he turned to see the red Alseides decloak. Dilandau's chuckle came through the guymelef's speakers, chilling him with its obvious pleasure.

"That'll keep them busy," the warlord said, then the red arm dipped down close to them. The other slayers immediately got on both knees and bowed low, while Gatti knelt down on one knee and put his right fist on the ground. He could hear the hiss of the ports that lay mere meters above them, and the acrid fumes of the liquid metal and fuel assaulted his nostrils. Chesta, who was kneeling next to him, began to whimper quietly.

"Now, why don't you give me one reason not to kill you," Dilandau snarled. Gatti stared at the ground, wanting to break down and cry, wanting to scream and shout and kill something. Or someone. How about because I love you? he thought redly. Because we haven't had enough time together? That giving our lives to you is the greatest honor we could have? That it was my fault that we got into this mess and the others are blameless?

"Well?" There was a dangerous edge to the voice now. Gatti stood and looked up to where he knew Dilandau was standing in his Alseides.

"There is no reason," he said quietly. "I made an error in judgement. I am sorry, Dilandau-sama." The arm moved a little closer and the heat from the metal ports singed his skin, then it slowly withdrew.

"This is your lucky day, boys," the warlord growled. "The hunt for the Dragon has resumed, and I don't have time to train in another set of elite. But know this," he continued darkly and the slayers trembled. "You will pay for this damage to my name." The Alseides cloaked and in moments there was only that shadow-shimmer in front of them, highlighted by the raging fire.

"Get back to the barracks," Dilandau ordered. "We leave in six hours." Then they heard the heavy metal tread fading down the meadow and into the woods. Gatti reached down and pulled Chesta to his feet as the other slayers slowly got up, their eyes large and haunted.

"I guess this is our lucky day," Guimel said quietly and tried to smile.

* * *

Gatti stood at attention in the command center, watching Dilandau as he paced eagerly back and forth in front of him, bouncing on his toes and snapping his fingers. They had about a half hour before departure time, and his thoughts raced as he thought about the slayers. Gatti had inspected the troops before coming to the command center and he was troubled by what he saw. Although all twenty-three men were turned out to perfection, he could sense the lack of fire in the elite five; they were preoccupied with the terrible punishment Dilandau would soon visit on them for their misadventure. The lesser ranks, Jared and Genki in particular, were covertly watching them, anticipating a chance to move up in the ranks. The troop was not a singleminded fighting unit, and Gatti knew that was no way to go into battle.

"At last, Gatti," Dilandau gloated and he snapped his attention back to him. "I've got him at last!"

"I don't think so, my lord," Gatti said quietly and Dilandau stopped in shock, rage instantly blazing in his eyes.

"What?" he hissed and glared at the slayer, grasping his kitana hilt. Gatti felt a thrill of terror run through him, but he continued.

"The troop is divided: the elite are obsessed with their future pain; the others are planning their own advancements. We've got to get them focused before we leave here; otherwise we won't be capturing anybody today." Dilandau snarled and grabbed hold of his jacket front, jerking him up onto his toes and glaring into his eyes. Then the warlord gave a sharp sound of exasperation and kissed him fiercely, shoving him away after a few moments.

"You will push me too far one day, Gatti-san," he growled, then laughed. "All right," he continued, "You win. Get out there and straighten things out. The elite won't be punished; put the others back in their proper places." Gatti, his mouth tingling and his heart pounding, pushed aside his desire and snapped back to attention.

"Thank you, Dilandau-sama," he said and bowed, then turned and headed for the exit.

"Gatti," Dilandau said and he stopped, not trusting himself to turn around, wishing with all his might that his lord would say the words he wanted to hear so badly.

"I will kill him." he heard him growl.

"I know you will, my lord," he replied, quelling a stab of disappointment. Would he ever hear a true word of endearment from him? Probably not, he realized with bitter sadness, then mentally shrugged his feelings away and headed outside.