Chapter Two

As he entered the Nightriders' secret headquarters, Richard saw that Wayne was already liveried in black from head to toe: the Dark Knight. He was obviously waiting impatiently for his ward. Richard nodded and hurried quickly to Alfred who waited with his Robin regalia. Like his guardian, Richard was dressed entirely in black, except for a single bold girdle of red around his trim waist. A half-cowl to mask his features completed the transformation.

"About time! I was ready to set off on my own," Wayne said curtly.

"My apologies, Bruce," Richard replied properly chastised. "Alfred, I can manage . . . why don't you ready the horses?"

"Done, Sir Richard," Alfred said drolly. Richard grinned boyishly.

"What would we ever do without you, Alfred?"

"I shudder to speculate, young sir," Alfred said without batting an eyelid. He gave Richard's long flowing cape a gentle tug as a finishing touch and stepped back. He gave his young charge a nod of satisfaction. Richard stretched, testing his light mail to ensure ease of movement. Satisfied, he nodded at Wayne, who without a word, turned on his heel and headed towards the secret passageway to the stables.

"With their Majesties paying us a visit within the fortnight, we must ensure that the countryside is safe for travel. These unspeakable horrors that we encountered on the last new moon . . . I don't know Richard . . . I just don't know." Wayne shook his head. Richard looked at his Lord in shock. For Wayne to admit that he was at a loss for an explanation or an idea of how to solve a problem showed the extreme gravity of the situation.

"My Lord, if these are evil creatures from the Time of the Dark, perhaps the way to fight them is not through swordsmanship, but rather through sorcery. Surely, the Great Zatar can help in this area?"

"The Great Zatar is a stage magician only, lad. He knows not of alchemy or any of the occult arts. To the best of my knowledge, no one has practiced these arts since the great Mage Wars. Legend has it that it took the combined energies of all the Romany sorcerers and the Emerald Guardians to defeat Mordant. Such power was unimaginable then and is unimaginable now." Wayne paused to allow Richard the opportunity to contemplate such awesome forces.

"When I was a wee lad, Alfred used to entertain me with bedtime stories of a great blinding flash that was reportedly seen a four-days ride from the borderlands. This was followed by a great emerald cloud in the shape of a mushroom that rose high into the sky. As the cloud dissipated, it obscured the sun for several days. Those were strange days indeed." Wayne gazed unwaveringly at his young ward.

"I know of no one who commands such destructive power today, lad. Nay, I *pray* that no one commands such a power . . . and yet, if we are to survive the coming of Mordant's Legions . . . I can only pray that we may find one who does. Meanwhile, there is little that we can do now. We must ride each night and patrol the countryside until King Orrin's visit, and investigate all reports of strange sightings, regardless of their seeming impossibility. And if by some chance we run into another of these creatures, then we must capture it at all costs. We need physical evidence in order to petition the King on the danger we all face."

Richard nodded solemnly. He began to feel strangely dissociated from his surroundings. The story that Bruce had related seemed familiar, like something from a half-remembered dream. He fingered the Emerald Eye unconsciously. It felt hot to the touch. As he reached Nightwing, the world suddenly began to spin in a mad kaleidoscope. Strange images began to assault his senses and quickly overwhelmed him . . .

****

. . . He wakes. He is standing in the middle of a mounted battle, surrounded by the sounds of steel on steel, and the screams of the wounded and dying. The helpless neighs of injured horses tear at his heart. Next, he finds himself half a league behind the lines. Suddenly, the King's archers run past him. Their urgency is apparent, yet they move quickly in disciplined formation. Infantry, carrying 18-foot pikes in the upright position used for marching, follow them. Finally, a long train of wagons bringing up the rear echelon arrives.

To Richard's surprise, the occupants of the wagons emerge with quiet determination. He can almost *feel* the power that emanates from the men and women who as one begin to climb to the top of the ridge overlooking the battle. Some are dressed in the colorful garb of the Romany; others are dressed in dark hooded robes. Subdued lighting hides the robes' hue. Without uttering a word, or pausing to rest, the group of thirty finally reaches its destination.

They first scratch a circle on the ground and then a hexagon inside the circle. Three men and three women each take an emerald jewel and place it at each point of the hexagon. Another, dressed entirely in emerald robes takes what appears to be a green lantern and sets it carefully in the center of the hexagon.

As one, each man and woman carefully stands outside the circle, removes the emerald talisman that hangs from his or her neck and holds it solemnly towards the center. Then they begin to chant: "In brightest day, in blackest night . . . "

****

". . . No evil shall escape my sight . . . " Richard whispered. He felt the cold compress on his forehead and winced away from it. The images swirling in his head faded quickly from memory, until he had nothing left except a vague feeling of urgency.

"He's coming to, sir!" Alfred's voice sounded worried and relieved at the same time.

"Thank God!" Bruce said, sounding concerned. "I don't know what happened, Alfred. One minute we're mounting our horses, the next he's lying on the ground unconscious!"

"Bruce . . . ? Alfred . . . ?" Richard whispered, dazed. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Alfred asked. Richard shook his head confused.

"Did I fall in battle?" he asked. Wayne's face came into his line of vision, his mouth quirked in a half-smile.

"I'm afraid not, lad; we didn't even make it out of the stables. How are you feeling? Can you sit up?" Richard made a mental assessment of his faculties. He felt all right.

"I believe so, my Lord," he said nodding. He attempted to sit up slowly, but paused midway. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him, but quickly passed. Alfred worried over him like an old nanny. "I'm all right, Alfred," he protested, "really." Alfred leaned back and sighed. How so like young Lord Wayne at his age. Still a boy, but trying so hard to be a man.

"Very well, young sir. If you're certain that you're feeling well, then I shall retire to my rooms. With your permission, Lord Wayne." Wayne nodded.

"I believe that you have hurt his feelings, lad," Wayne gently chastised after Alfred left.

"I did not mean to do so, my Lord. I would never knowingly cause hurt to Alfred. He has treated me as his own son since the day I arrived at Castle Wayne. How should I ever make it up to him, Bruce?" Richard's face looked stricken. Wayne gave him his usual half-smile.

"I believe, Richard, that just allowing Alfred to fuss over you will cast balm on whatever troubled waters you may have stirred. Do not worry, lad. Alfred loves us both and treats us *both* as if we were still in need of a wet nurse. I'm just glad you're here . . . this way I'm not the sole recipient of his ministrations." Richard laughed and felt better. He'd make it up to Alfred in the morning. A sudden thought struck him.

"Bruce, how long was I out? Do we still have time to patrol the castle holdings?" Wayne gave him a wide grin and nodded.

"Aye, lad. Dawn is still a good five candlemarks away. We have plenty of time to patrol the nearby forests. Are you up to it?" Richard grinned in turn and tossed off the bedcovers.

"What do *you* think, my Lord?" Richard quickly pulled on his riding boots and fastened his spurs. He grabbed his saber and crossbow from where they'd been carelessly tossed in the corner. Almost as an afterthought, he carefully slid a razor-sharp stiletto into his right boot. "Let us away!" The Nightriders quickly hurried down the secret passageways to their waiting horses.

****

 They rode swiftly and silently through the deepening gloom of the forest trails. The last time they'd encountered one of the nightmarish horrors from the Time Before, they'd met it along a similarly darkened road. These forest paths were also the favorite haunts of some much more human evildoers. Since the Nightriders had begun their campaign to strike terror into the black hearts of local highwaymen, the roads that crossed through Castle Wayne lands had become much safer to travel.

Tonight, the roads were practically empty. So far, after almost three candle marks, they'd met up with one lone rider who seemed to be in a hurry to get home. They'd stopped the frightened traveler, and when they questioned him, it was all Richard could do to keep from laughing aloud. It was Bullock, the tavern keeper, returning home from his trip to Gotham Town.

"It's been an uneventful trip, praise God," Bullock informed the two masked riders. Although clearly frightened initially, when he saw that they intended him no ill, he answered their questions easily and openly. "I was successful in my business transactions while there . . . soon, I shall be adding a new wing and several guest rooms to the inn. Mayhap by midsummer next, I shall be able to accommodate even the king's entourage!"

Bullock sounded proud of his accomplishments and Richard couldn't blame him. A self-made man was most unusual and largely impossible during these troubled times. Of course, when one owned a tavern on land that had been deeded by a Wayne ancestor for services rendered in the past, that landowner was ensured protection by the current Wayne heir as well as a tax-free existence for perpetuity.

"Thank you for the information, friend," Wayne said. "Godspeed home . . . and do not worry . . . the Nightriders watch o'er the lands of Castle Wayne tonight!" The Dark Knight and Robin waved farewell, then the spun their horses and continued their mission.

Within the half candle mark, they ran into the first sign of trouble. A carriage had been waylaid by a small band of outlaws. Richard shook his head in amazement. Even with their growing reputations as the Nightriders, there were some that still believed they could prey on helpless travelers through the Wayne holdings.

"When will these brigands learn?" Richard said exasperatedly.

The sudden scream of a woman propelled the Dark Knight and his squire into action. Richard spurred Nightwing into a full gallop. The stalwart stallion responded immediately, eager for action. Wayne and Richard drew swords almost simultaneously, and emerged from the dark woods like demons from hell. Their black capes billowed wildly behind them; their cowled faces were grimaced in almost ravenous anger.

The startled outlaws turned and quickly prepared for battle. Two held their helpless victim between them. Suddenly, she slipped from their grasp, and with almost a catlike growl, she slashed at their faces with her nails. Caught by surprise, they fell back, giving her the opportunity to escape around the carriage. As she ran, she suddenly kicked out at one of the outlaws who'd reached out to grab her. He doubled over, holding his groin where she'd kicked him with her booted foot.

"Helpless victim?" Richard wondered aloud. "I don't think we're even needed here, my Lord!" Wayne turned and gave him a feral grin.

They quickly descended on the outlaws, their swords flashing in the moonlight. As the right-handed Richard slashed out with his saber, he brought up his crossbow with his left, aimed and released the deadly bolt, which he'd already set to fire. The quarrel flew true to its mark. He heard a scream, but by then he'd turned his full attention to his opponent. He saw an opening in the brigand's left side, and thrust with his saber. His victim's eyes opened wide in shock, then glazed over when death took him.

Richard pulled his saber free, and turned to face the next challenger. He was suddenly struck from the side and thrown off his horse, losing his weapon in the process. He recovered his feet almost instantaneously, executing a reverse somersault, thus narrowly escaping being skewered. Two outlaws hurriedly descended on him from opposite directions, brandishing dirks. One grabbed Richard from behind while the other moved to run him through.

At the last possible moment, Richard kicked up with his powerful legs, stunning his attacker. He then bent forward, throwing his captor over his head. The assailant's weapon went flying and Richard caught it in mid-air with a flourish. Not skipping a beat, Richard turned on his attackers; he leaped up, and in a lightning fast blur spun around and kicked out with his legs straight. Within moments both men were lying facedown in the pre-dawn dew covered grass.

By then, the rest of the outlaws decided that what had looked like easy prey was no longer worth the cost.  Their attack had become a desperate retreat galvanized by a grim desire to escape with their lives.

To Richard's surprise, he saw the lady they'd "rescued" fending off two attackers simultaneously with a cat o' nine tales. The brigands retreated slowly in the face of her deadly onslaught. As one, they turned to run, splitting in two directions. She quickly lashed out at the nearest outlaw, catching him by the throat with her whip. She pulled back viciously, bringing him down.

The second one was getting away! Quickly recovering his saber, Richard gave a piercing whistle and started running. Nightwing quickly cut in next to him at a canter. Richard grabbed the pommel, swung up and over, and settled easily into his saddle. Nightwing snorted his approval. Richard grinned and spurred Nightwing into a full gallop in pursuit of the second outlaw before he made good his escape.

The Dark Knight meanwhile had bested his opponents against three to one odds. He was busy tying those who still posed a threat, and rendering medical aid to those who needed it; however, most of the wounded were almost beyond any earthly help.

As Richard chased after the fugitive outlaw, he again spurred Nightwing and was instantly gratified with a sudden burst of speed. They came up quickly on the running figure; Richard released his stirrups and went flying, landing squarely on his target.

They both went down in a tangle. The outlaw recovered first and kicked out at Richard, connecting solidly with his chin. Richard saw stars momentarily and tasted blood; still woozy he dived after his opponent, refusing to let him get away. As the outlaw turned to swing with his fist, Richard ducked, quickly placed his hands on the ground, and kicked straight up with both booted feet. He connected with the outlaw's soft abdomen. His opponent went down, clutching his stomach.

"Do you stand down?" Richard demanded, his breathing coming in short gasps. The outlaw didn't reply. Richard drew his sword, and held its point to the outlaw's chin. He gently raised the brigand's chin with the point of his saber. "Do you stand down?" he repeated. The frightened outlaw's eyes opened wide in terror. He tried to answer, but no sound would emerge; he swallowed and tried again.

"Aye . . . I do," he managed to croak. Richard gave him a rakish grin.

"I thought you would. Get up . . . the Dark Knight awaits your audience." The outlaw's eyes seemed to open even wider.

"No please! I beg you!" Unmindful of Richard's blade, the prisoner crawled pathetically to Richard's feet and hugged his boots. "Please! Do not turn me over to that devil's spawn! Please! I heard he eats the hearts of the highwaymen he's accosted!" His outright alarm surprised Richard. Devil's spawn? That was a new one. Heh. Wait till I tell Bruce!

"On your feet. You've nothing to fear from the Dark Knight; on my honor, I swear that he *does not* eat vermin!" It took them almost ten minutes to return to the carriage and the others, however, because Richard's prisoner kept collapsing in fear. Richard's patience was sorely tested by having to pick him up every few moments; he almost decided to just run him through to put him out of his misery. He'd probably prefer a quick death to facing the Dark Knight's justice.

When they arrived at the carriage, Richard was practically carrying his prisoner, whose use of his legs had finally failed him. Relieved, Richard threw him in a pile with the other outlaws. Five prisoners, one wounded grievously, and four dead; this was a terrible night's work indeed. Sometimes the mission that the Nightriders had taken upon themselves sorely tried his very soul.

"Lady Selina . . . a thousand pardons, but my squire and I cannot reveal our true identities. To do so, would render us useless in our vow to bring law and justice to the outlying lands between Castle Wayne and Gotham Town. Rest assured, lady, that we are friends and not brigands." Richard rolled his eyes at this speech. God's Blood, but Bruce was laying it on a bit thick! He walked over to where they stood and crossed his arms waiting. Bruce saw him standing there impatiently.

"Robin, may I present the Lady Selina Kyle, first lady-in-waiting to the Princess Royal." Richard's ears pricked at this. The Princess Royal was his first cousin, Donna, whom Richard loved as dearly as a sister. Both she and her brother, Garth, the Crown Prince and heir to the throne, were extremely close to Richard.

Now that he thought of it, he seemed to recall Donna mentioning in one of her latest missives that a Lady Selina had recently joined her inner circle. Apparently his good aunt the Queen, had selected the lady not because of a family tradition, but because of her fighting skills. His Aunt Diana no doubt felt that his beautiful, yet somewhat headstrong, cousin *needed* a keeper!

Richard chivalrously kissed the lady's proffered hand. "*Selina* . . . according to legend, the goddess of the moon. 'Tis indeed a pleasure to meet such a beautiful moon goddess on a moonlit night such as this." Lady Selina laughed gently.

"I had no idea that the Dark Knight and his squire were such gallants! These brigands killed my driver, a loyal servant who's been with my family since before I was born. You gentlemen rescued me and for that I shall be forever in your debt."

"The pleasure was ours, my lady," Wayne protested.

"Indeed. We hardly did anything," Richard added. "If we hadn't arrived, it probably would've taken you about five more minutes to dispense with the riffraff." Lady Selina laughed lightly. Her laughter reminded Richard almost of a cat's contented purring.

"Robin, let's load the prisoners and the wounded into the carriage. We'll leave word with the castle guard as to the location of the dead. Have a couple of the prisoners properly wrap the bodies in their capes to keep them from becoming carrion food." Richard nodded and moved to carry out his orders.

As the eastern horizon lightened, the exhausted party arrived outside the gates of Castle Wayne.

"Dawn is almost upon us, Lady; therefore, I'm afraid that this is where we must part company," Wayne said reluctantly. "You'll be safe here. The morning watch will lower the drawbridge within the half candle mark." Wayne looked intensely into her eyes. "Should we never meet again, Lady Selina. Fair thee well."

"Fair thee well, Dark Knight," Lady Selina said quietly. The Dark Knight and Robin turned their steeds quickly and disappeared into the morning mists.

Chapter Three

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