a mocking smile. "Then explain the sword you hold at my throat. Explain how it killed the men who were after you without touching them."
He had no explanation of how the men had been struck down. It was magical and not born of this earth. Even now he could feel the life force of the weapon he held. Feel the power of it. It was changing him somehow. The sword seemed to be alive, whispering its will into his mind.
The woman held her hand out to him. "Come with me, boy, and I will make you a king."
He scoffed at her outrageous offer. "King of what? Peasants? Beggars?"
"Nay," she said in her voice that was rife with promise and seduction. "I can give you riches and power beyond your wildest imaginings."
He found that even harder to believe. "I have quite an active imagination and I am no fool. No peasant becomes a king unless it is king of the lowest, and of that I have no need. I've been a ruler ofthem since the hour of my birth."
Morgen cocked her head as she studied him curiously. "So mistrustful, my evil heart. But have no fear. A peasant can become king when he isn't really a peasant."
Her words gave him pause. "What say you?"
She reached out and boldly brushed the blade of his sword aside with her hand. With no regard of the danger, she approached him slowly, swinging her hips suggestively. "You were hidden, boy, by those who were afraid of your birthright. They knew that you were destined to find this sword and to become the greatest king the world has ever known."
Kerrigan closed his eyes at her words. Dare he even begin to believe or to hope? A chill went over him. One that was intensified as she raked a cold finger down his right cheek.
"Come with me and I will show you a world of wonders where you will never again know hunger or want."
He couldn't breathe as he thought of that. How he wished it were so. All his life he'd had nothing. Never enough food. Never enough clothing.
Never dignity.
His entire existence was one of burning, painful wants. Of a yearning so strong that it had left blistered scars on his soul.
"Morgen!"
Kerrigan opened his eyes as he heard the sharp cry of a woman's voice. This newcomer stood tall and proud, like an Amazon warrior. Her long red hair was plaited and drawn off her sharp, angular face. She was pleasing enough in looks, but there was a harshness to her features that made her seem jaded and cold.
Not to mention she wore the golden armor of a man. It gleamed in the dim light, obscuring any trace of womanly curve to her body.
A knight stood by her side. Only two inches taller, he had a face that would rival any woman's for beauty. His features were fragile and perfect and set off by the mass of wavy golden hair that fell haphazardly around his face.
Kerrigan had never seen anything like them or the strange golden armor they wore.
Morgen moved to stand beside him so that she could drape one long, shapely arm over his shoulders. "Well, what have we here? The Monk and the Frigid. What an interesting combination Merlin has sent this time."
The woman drew her sword and stepped forward. "He belongs to us. Move away from him, Morgen, or perish."
Morgen laughed out loud. "You can't kill me, and we both know it. Now sheath the sword, Elaine, before I use it to mess up that pretty face of yours." She took a minute to breathe in his ear. His body hardened instantly.
Laughing again, Morgen toyed with his ear as she continued to talk to Elaine. "You know the rules, Queen Frigid. We both have an equal shot at our little man here. He is the one who has to choose which path to follow. Your way or mine…"
Elaine cursed.
Morgen ignored her. "Whatwill he do?" She sucked her breath in sharply as she stepped away from him to taunt the other two. "The suspense is killing me…Oh, the agony and horror of waiting."
"Then I say we drag it out," Elaine said dryly. "With any luck you'll perish and end this war once and for all."
Morgen curled her lip until she looked back at Kerrigan. Her face softened into the tenderest of expressions. "Come with me and I will give you whatever you desire. Wealth. Power. Women. No one will ever mock you again."
Kerrigan's heart