It was a lost cause. Ardon and Abedeel, brothers, twins, Captains of the Rebel Cause, sat in their tend one night and drank tot heir defeat. In the mrnoing the army of the Ruler woule meet theirs and destroy them; absolutely destroy them. Abedeel tried to be calm, to meet death on it's own terms, but Ardon set down his glass and wept.

"Come now." Abedeel said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, "We've faced eath every day for ttwo years."

"It is not for my death that I weep." Ardon confessed, "But for the loss of the Cause. Is this the price of Freedom? Oh, if only there was some other way!"

He put his hands out in appeal, and his clear brown eyes sought his brother's dark blue ones. Abedeel watched in wonder as the Idea dawned in the face of despair.

"If I had a spy." Ardon barely whispered it, standing and walking around to kneel beside Abedeel, "If someone coudl get into the Ruler's favor, we could withdraw tonight, go into hiding, build our forces, wait for the move that will give us victory..."

Ardon was a brilliant military strategist but Abedeel questioned.

"He would have to be a very good spy."

"Yes." The light faded but did not retreat. Ardon was adamant. He believed in the Cause.

"Someone you could trust beyond shadow of a doubt." Abedeel pressed,

"Yes."

"Because it might take a long time before you could suceeed and he could not risk discovery."

"Yes."

"It would have to be me."

Ardon jumped to his feet. Abedeel was more calm and assured than his brother and had not stirred in his seat.

"No. It can't be you." Ardon said, talking rapidly, his voice rising, "I couldn't part with you. You need to help me here."

"Hush Ardon." Abedeel took his brother and led him back to his seat. "It has to be me. Don't you see? Who else can you trust?"

"But- "

"Your place is here. You will command. You can do it."

"Abedeel..."

"For the Cause." he whispered.

***

Ardon gave the command and they withdrew that night. Every man fighting for freedom, every woman and child hiding from the Ruler melted into the shadows  of darkness and retreated into hiding. Ardon and Abedeel left in secret from even their own people and went up to the mountain to the old Lore Master. They made a set of marks that Ardon alone could read, to all else it would look like mere scribbling.

"I am an enemy now." Abedeel said,

"I know." Ardon answered.

"You cannot show me favor lest the Ruler suspect me. If your peopel capture me, treat me not as a brother but as a traitor."

"I will."

"If rescue is impossible then I will speak. But Ardon, if you are captured, I must keep silence."

"I know."

Then the Lore Master came to them. He was old, white-haired, and twisted as a gnarled oak. In the bowl he carried was a sticky substance the color of old leaves that smelled strangely sweet. In the other hand was a long thin knife. The handle was black and the blade a dull grey, carved with mysterious markings. Abedeel embraced his brother and stepped back, silencing him with a gesture.

"Speak not to me again until this war is over." he said warningly. Then he spead the sticky stuff over the palm of his right hand and let the Lore Master take the knifre and cut it open. Ardon did likewise and they clasped hands so their blood ran together to the floor.

"They will not heal," the old man promised, "Unitl this war is over and you are together again."

Ardon closed his eyes, not ready to part with his brother. But Abedeel let go his hand and left him whispering, "Never doubt."

***

When the sun broke over the battlefield the Ruler's army looked in confusion at the empty valley. There was no sign of the enemy. Finally the Ruler sighed and turned to go. One of his captain's laid his hand on his arem and softly said, "Wait."

Out of the woods came a lone horseman, glancing over his shoulder as though afraid of pursuit. His right hand was bandaged and his clothes marked him as a Rebel. The captain put his mouth close to the Ruler's ear and whispered, "Deserter."

The Ruler nodded. the man was clearly heading their way. The Ruler made a slight gesture with his left hand and another officer immediatly rode to his side. No words were spoken. The Ruler pointed to the man and the officer rode across the a field and escorted him  back the Ruler's battle line.

"Thanks, Your Excellency." The man said, "I was afraid they would see me leaving  and shoot, but they wouldn't shoot at one of your excellancey's officers."

"Wouldn't they?" the Ruler asked drily,

"No, Excellency. They don't want this battle to begin with."

"Are they out there?"

"A few, Excellency. They are retreating as quickly as they came. In the confusion they didn't notice me leave."

"Why did you leave?"

The man twisted his hands nervously. "Well, Excellency, times were hard. I was lured by promises that proved false, vain talk, Excellency. It was all wrong. I can't go home or they'll hunt me down. Will you offer me protection? May I enter your services?"

"It is usually death of Rebel deserters." The Ruler said in a hard voice, "Once they tell all they know."

"Death! No!" The man flung himself off his horse on to his knees. "I'll tell all I know and more! I am Abedeel, brother to Ardon, learder of the Rebel Cause! We fought last night, and I thought that, if I came to you, I could help you destroy him. I don't ever want to see Ardon alive again, Excellency." his voice turned hard and bitter. "I know his methods, I can predict his moves."

The ruler held out his hand, smiling. "You are pardoned." he said, his voice silky smooth, "You shall be given a place among my captains and officers."

Abedeel rose and kissed his Lord's hand. He felt the blood pulse in the cut on his palm and was content. So far Ardon's plan was working.

***

The first council was held the next day in the home of the mayor of the nearest city. Abedeel wore an officers uniform in brilliant scarlet and gold with the perfect white gloves that were the style. the Ruler's first question was his test.

"Well Abedeel," He said smoothly, "If you can really help us, now is the time to prove it. Your brother has retreated, What will he do now?"

What would Ardon do? Retreat, stay in hiding a few days, and then wait for information.

"He won't move very soon, Excellancy. He'll be waaiting for you to make the next move. When his scouts bring him information on your position he'll plan his attack."

"What will he plan?"

"That depends on your position."

"What if I decide to fortify this town?"

Abedeel frowned. "I'm not sure, but I think he'd outwait you."

"He wouldn't attack the town?" The Ruler was genuinely surprised.

"No, Excellency. He won't take on anything he's doubtful off. My brother is a very cautious man."

"Ah. That's why he fled yesterday."

"Yes, Excellency."

"What do you counsel?"

Abedeel thought. "He'll expect you to try to find them. He'll leave a false trail and lead your forces into ambush. If you think you've foudn the Rebels only send in a small force to draw them out, then send your real forces to ambush the Rebels."

The Ruler rubbed his gloved hands. "Brilliant. If no one has better counsel we shall do as you advise."

"It is sound advice." A captain said, "Not a plan to trap your forces by trickery."

The other's assented and the council was concluded. Beneath the table Abedeel clasped his hands and repeated the words in his mind, never doubt.

***

For the first time the ambush failed. The Rebels fled. Many died. Too many. Under cover of darkness Ardon returned to the narrow gorge where he had been caught in his own trap. No one could have known; no one but Abedeel. He slipped on a bloodstained rock and fell to his knees. He raised his tear streaked face to the sky and held out his hands in supplication crying,

"Is this the price for Freedom?"

***

The Elders were waiting, frowning in displeasure when Ardon came to their tent, summoned to their council. His clothes were muddy and bloodstained, his cloak and weapons gone.

"Where is Abedeel?" One of the Elders asked of the young captain. Ardon spread his hands helplessly.

"I don't know."

Elder Raskin stood, his imposing geight and bulk making an impression on everyone in the room.

"Well, we do!" he said ominously, "He has betrayed us."

"Abedeel would never betray me." Ardon whispered hopelessly,

"He was seen," Elder Raskin said firmly, "In the Ruler's train, clad as an officer and treated with respect."

The room seemed to spin around Ardon and he fell.

"He's been hurt!" The Elders anger turned to concern, for Ardon was the most brilliant strategist among them. Without him they might as well surrender.

"I'm all right." Ardon protested weakly, his senses returning, "We shouldn't have fought. I should have held my tongue..."

"How did you cut your hand?" Elder Dasky was a kindly old soul and he held Ardon now, looking him over. Ardon snatched his hand away.

"It's nothing."

"How did you get it?" Elder Raskin protested,

"I was sharpening my sword." Ardon said, "And it slipped."

"For some reason I find that unlikely." Elder Tompson said,

"Ah, leave him alone." Elder Dasky siad, "It's hard on him, loosing his brother and a battle all in one day."

Ardon closed his eyes and tried not to foget what Abedeel had said. Never doubt.

***

"Abedeel betrays us." the Elders didn't know what else to say. Ardon hid his face in his hands. "I miss my brother." he whispered, "I don't know what to do. I've never planned without Abedeel..."

Elder Dasky put his hand on his arm reassuringly. "you are the one with the plans Ardon." He said gently, "You  would talk and Abedeel would find the flaws. We can find the flaws Captain, but we need you to plot for us. Plot and scheme and put your genius to work. Abedeel knows what your move will be, so you have to think farther ahead. We're loosing too much Ardon."

Ardon sighed. there had been two more attacks. He had lost them both.

"The Ruler rides to the village called Donka." he said slowly, "To try someone called Castor D'Neesh, accused of carrying information to the Rebel's. The charge is false, because I've never heard of the fellow, but no one else knows that. The Ruler's party will take the road that-- no." he pressed two fingers to his forehead, understanding. "He won't take that road because Abedeel will have warned him about it. He'll take... he'll take the road by the river, where it is open. We'll be coming the other way." He looked at the Elder's, confident of this battle. "We have to move now, because the Ruler rides in the morning."

"Very good Ardon." Elder Raskin said, "All I want to understand is this. Where did you find out about this little ride of the Ruler's? None of our scouts mentioned it."

Dismay swept Ardon, who's face they could read like a book. He was a terrible liar but he though up an excuse.

"I heard it myself from a villager yesterday afternoon. It had escaped my mind until now."

No one believed him but they did not question. The Rebels marched that night.

***

"What have you done?" The Ruler's cool veneer slipped away and he paced in rage and frusteration. "You failed me! You said they would take the mountain road! You betrayed me!"

"No, Excellency." Abedeel trembled before him, "Ardon has changed his methods. I can't conceive how he knew! I should have forseen. Excellency, have mercy! I will do better next time, I promise!"

"I'm through with you and your promises.!" The order was on his lips when one of the captains slipped up to him and whispered something no one else could hear. The Ruler listened in silence and then left in silence. Abedeel stood alone, unasnwered, unsentenced.

What were they going to do with him? His position here was so shaky. What if Ardon disregarded his message?

At the though of Ardon he shook his head. The throb of the cut that refused to heal reminded him that his brother would never desert him. Never doubt.

***

Ardon knelt in the dust on the raod with his face turned to the stars in the sky. In his hand he held Abedeel's message but there was no lgith to read by. Suddenly he heard the tramp of feet on the deserted road and sprang up to run. It was too late. Hands seized him from behind.

"See how he starts like a guilty thing." A rough voice sneered. Ardon recognized the voice as a Rebel and relaxed.

"You startled me." He half whispered, "I am Ardon, Captain of the Cause."

"We know." the voice answered, "We were sent to find you. You are under arrest, Ardon, Captain of the Cause. The Elders wish to see you at once."

They led him to the council tent and two of them escorted him in while two of them stood guard at the door. Elder Raskin gave him no greeting and only demanded to know, "Where have you been?"

Ardon didn't answer. One of the guards spoke up.

"We found him on the road where the battle took place."

"What were you doing there?" the Elder continued,

"I think that what I do on my my own time is my own business." Ardon snapped,

"Not if it endangers the Cause!" Elder Raskin roared,

Elder Tompson put his hand on Elder Raskins shoulder and bade him be seated.

"We need to know Ardon." he said pleadingly, "Wartime is no time for secrets. Why do you return to those battlefields and weep?"

"Since you've spied on me so thouroughly I think that you would know." Ardon said bitterly, "I go to mourn."

"Mourn for what?"

"For those who have fallen. I go to mourn and pray and ask the stars in heaven, is this the price for Freedom? Death, death, and more death! Would it not be better to live as slaves then to-- no. No. I will not say it!"

He lifted defiant eyes to the Elder's at the council table. "I'm as loyal to the Cause as any of you, but I want this killing to end."

Elder Raskin frowned and snatched the paper Ardon still held.

"What is this?" he looked it over and saw nothing but a few tihn lines. He moved as though to cast it in the fire and Ardon cried, "Wait!"

"Why?" the Elder whirled on him, "What is it?"

"I found it." he stammered, "I wanted to see if there was any lettering on it."

"If it is so important to you, Ardon," the Elder said, "Than you can tell us. There's been enough of your secrets. Why hasn't your hand healed yet? It must be mighty inconvenient to hold a sword."

Ardon looked down at his hand. The bandage had come off during the battle and his fingers were covered with dry blood he hadn't washed off yet. Elder Raskin shrugged and cast the paper into the fire.

"You will remain under arrest." he siad, "We'll have no more of these midnight escapades. These soldiers will escort you to your tent and remain outside on guard until we send for you. And please, Ardon, make yourself presentabel befreo then."

Ardon bowed his head and did not answer and only thought, never doubt.

***

The Rebel's struck again. In desperation Abedeel pulled off his gloves, tore the bandage off his hand and wrote in his own blood,

"Ardon, don't attack!"

In his haste he forgot the code words by which Ardon would knwo that the message was his.

***

Ardon saw the bloodstained paper lying where he knew his brother had been. The Ruler's army had retreated and he dusmounted, looking the way they had gone. Standing behind his horse no one saw him pcik up the paper, read it and reread it, and thrust inside his shirt.

Back in his tent that night, still under arrest, he destroyed it. The message was not Abedeel's. It couldn't be. Abedeel would not forget. He shivered to think that some one else knew. He feared for his brother's safety. Who else could possibly know the symbols they had created together? Who could know?

No. Ardon paced in indecision. The message was written hastily, in the midst of the battle it would seem. Abedeel just didn't remember. It was probably an echo of something Ardon was supposed to know. If only he knew what was in the message Elder Raskin had destroyed!

"Captain Ardon? Is everything all right?" One of the guards called,

"Everything's fine." Ardon said sarcastically.

"Then be still and go to sleep." Came the commanding answer.

Ardon flung himself on his blankets in desperation. Could the Elders even order his sleeping and waking?

***

A third defeat would be bad for Abedeel. Very bad. He didn't understand why Ardon was diregarding his perilous position. Could it be possible he wasn't getting his messages?

The Rebels attacked, succesful again. The Ruler did not invite him to the council that was held afterwards. Abedeel put his head in his hands. He had failed Ardon. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. A servant told him he was wanted in the council room immediatly. A Rebel prisoner had been brought in.

A Rebel prisoner! Abedeel didnt' knwo whether to be overjoyed or dismayed. This might be a way to regain the Ruler's confidence, but it might mean another life lost to the Cause. He entered the council room eagerly.

"We would like you to identify this man," the Ruler said, gesturing to the Rebel who stood surrounded by guards. "He is some one of importance, for the Rebel's were defending him."

Abedeel's step slowed and for once he almost lost his composure. The prisoner was Ardon.

***

Not the batt of an eyelid. Not a flicker of recognition. Abedeel looked at Ardon like some curious artifact, cool and detatched.

"He's not an Elder," he ssaid, "because all the Elder's are old. Look at me rogue, what is your name?"

Ardonw asn't about to give his real name ot the Ruler, especially not with his brother there. So he said, "Conner."

"Liar," Abedeel hissed.

"You don't know my name!" Ardon cried, "since when do ruling officers mingle with Rebel's names?"

"Don't you knwo me? I am Abedeel! Brother to the Rebel Captain. I've asked your name; answer me!"

Ardon spat in his brother's face. "Traitor! Your name is a curse on our lips!"

Suddenly Abedeel understood what he had done to Ardon. He understood why his brother had been forced to disregard his messages; if he had got them at all. Everyone int he Rebel Cause believed the story he had told the Ruler, that the brothers had fought and Abedeel had deserted. He was a traitor; a curse.

Ardon was tired and miserable. He didn't know if hte battle was won or lost. He didn't knwo if he would ive to find out. Thsi pretense of being other than what he was was too much of a strain on him. Here was his brother, why could they not be together again? Then, suddenly, Abedeel slapped him. The blow was so hard it knocked Ardon down. He looked up bewildered, tears in his eyes from the pain and saw Abedeel turn back to the Ruler and say,

"We'll get nothign out of him tonight. I don't know who he is, Excellency. Maybe he's some kind of officer my brother has created since I left."

"And what do you counsel?" The Ruler asked.

"Give him a good beating, to teach him a lesson," Abedeel said, "and a good bath," he added, delicatly holding his nose, "and we'll see if he isn't more willing to talk in the morning."

So the guards took Ardon down to the prison, stripped his clothes off, tied him to a wall and beat him. Ardon pressed his forehead to the rough stone, remembering Abedeel's last words to him, hearing his brother's voice repeating, "never doubt."

***

Abedeel returned to his room and wrote his last message to Ardon. It was short and to the point. No apoligies, no explanations.

Tonight you are the spy and I am the master. Report to me ont he Rebel's movements, then all doors will be open to you.

Let the Ruler win a few battles. Let him rest secure. Send to Corvin, in the South. They are restless and ready to march on the Ruler. They will join you. Attack the capital when winter comes. It will mean waiting, but you have the time. I will be here to greet you. This is the last you will hear from me. This is your chance Ardon, take it.

Write me in plain lettering.

Never doubt.

***

A little before dawn there was a tap on Abedeel's door. He lit a candle and opened it, beckoning the guard in.

"The prisoner is outside the gates as you instructed," he said. "He left this for you."

"Thank you." He pressed several coins intot he guard's hand and showed him out. He unfolded Ardon's message and read.

The Rebel's will withdraw but their hiding place is easily found. A few attacks will rouse them to come out but a full scale battle will be avoided at all costs. Their forces are weaking. Winter will destroy them. Long may His Excellency rule.

Abedeel smiled. It was the most beautiful piece of deception his brother had ever written. He crept down the hall and knocked on the Ruler's door. A servant opened and bade him enter.

"I wanted to speak to you alone," Abedeel said, "because the fewer who know secrets the more certain it is to remain so. I came to tell you about the Rebel prisoner."

"Ah," the Ruler smiled. "I thought there was a bit a play acting there."

"See, he is a spy for me in the Rebel camp," Abedeel confided. "This is the message he left me."

The Ruler laughed softly. "This is good news, good news indeed. But I don't see why you had your own servant beaten."

Abedeel shrugged. "He deserved it. We have a reliable communication system, he had no business getting captured. At least in the Rebels find him out and hang him we know everything we need."

"The Rebels?" the Ruler queried.

"Oh, well, I had him set free," Abedeel said apoligetically. "Like I said, the less people who know, the better..."

The Ruler laughed again. "Brilliant, Abedeel. And here I had doubted you. Never again, I swear. When we win this war I will set you above everyone in the land."

"As long as Ardon is dead I will be content," Abedeel said, bowing.

***

Never doubt. Ardon ran back to the Rebels came and broke in upon the council unsummoned as they met at breakfast. He was half naked, his back bloody, his eyes holding a strange light. The Elders cried out in surprise and dismay at their young captain.

"We thought you were dead!" Elder Tompson said.

"We were afraid you were captured," Elder Johnson added.

"Where have you been?" Elder Raskin demanded.

"Let the man alone," Elder Dasky interupted, "he's hurt, he's tired; he can't talk now."

"No. I won't wait." Ardon's legs could scarcely hold him up but he pressed on. "I won't have you doubt me anymore. Victory is ours."

Elder Dasky took his arm and led him to a chair, even though to sit in the prescence of the Elders was unheard of.

"Tell us then, Ardon," Elder Dasky said gently, "if you feel you must."

The Elders, all twelve of them, were quite fond of their military leaders. The young men risked their lives, made their plans and championed the Cause that the Elders lived for. Ardon and Abedeel were like sons to them, and they grieved at the loss of one brother almost as much as Ardon did, though they did not speak of it. They crowded around Ardon now, anxious for his story, tending his cuts themselves, not wanting to let anyone else near.

"I was captured and brouth before the Ruler," he explained. "Never mind how I escaped. There are things that I cannot explain, even to you. When the Cause is won, all will be told. This is what I learned. Relations between the Ruler and the natives of Corvin has been shattered. The Corvin authorities are restless and ready for war. Oh sirs, send to the South!" Ardon looked up at the old grizzled faces pleadingly. "We must continue to fight battles with the Ruler until winter comes so that he will not suspect us. Then, we'll attack! With the Corvin army coming upfrom the South and the Forces of Freedom coming down fromt he north we'll surround his capital when he suspects it least--"

"There. There now." Elder Raskin clumsily patted his shoulder. "You've done very well Ardon."

"We'll discuss it," Elder Dasky said, "while you rest. Go on now. Sleep. You've been through much since that battle."

The battle. He had forgotten. He hesitated at the door and asked, "How many?"

"Now then," Elder Dasky said firmly, "don't you worry about it. You did the best you could. Go on now."

Ardon didn't press it. He turned and went out to his own tent.

***

It was a cold, winter night in January when fighting broke out all over the city. Abedeel jumped into his clothes and ran down the hall to the Ruler's rooms, shoving the servants aside and rousing His Excellency out of bed.

"What? what is it Abedeel? You look so strange. Is everything all right?"

"Ardon has formed an alliance with the Corvin people in the South. They have come when you least expect it. They are taking the city even as we speak."

"What are we waiting for?" The Ruler swung his legs out of the bed.

"I don't think you understand," Abedeel said slowly. "Ardon is taking your city."

"I know. And you want vengeance. So let's get moving."

"You don't understand."

The Ruler halted, unsure of his cheif advisor's meaning.

"Ardon is my brother," Abedeel said slowly, emphasising every word. "We're twins actually."

"So? Come to the point Abedeel!"

"I'm going to kill you for Ardon!" Abedeel cried. "He'll get the city and I'll get you! I'm going to make you pay for every life that was wasted trying to put an end to your tyranny! I've been his spy all this time! I'd never betray my own brother!"

The Ruler tried to run but Abedeel was too quick for him. He left the sword behidn the bed with the body and went downstairs to meed Ardon.

***

Ardon was at the head of hte forces that broke down the door of the palace. They forced entrance to the Ruler's throne room, ringing the bells, exchanging his banner for theirs, and the Dawn of Freedom broke over the city.

The Elders were not far behind and they rode into the city in triumph a little after sunrise, hailed as liberators by all the land. Ardon met them on the steps of the throne, a sword in his hand.

"Where is the Ruler?" Elder Raskin asked.

"I do not know," Ardon answered.

"I have taken care of him." From a side door an officer entered, dressed in a brilliant uniform of scarlet and gold, an elegant curly mustache and a pair of white gloves completing hte outfit. Ardon dropped the sword where he stood.

"Abedeel!" he cried. "Abedeel!" But he didn't stir from his place. The Elders frowned dissaprovingly.

"This man is a traitor," they said.

Abedeel pulled the gloves off and held out his hands to Ardon.

"Never doubt," he said.

Then Ardon's feet were freed and he ran across the room to his brother.

"But Ardon!" The Elders voices rose in protest.

"We're free, Ardon," Abedeel said, his arms around his brother's neck. "You did it."

"I had begun to think we would never see this day," Ardon whispered. "You were so far away..." He laughed then, free and happy. "All I wanted then was to speak to you, Abedeel. I was so afraid, so lonely, and you-- you struck me!"

"You deserved it," Abedeel said, with mock gravity. "You nearly gave us away. I don't believe you remembered a word I said before I left."

"How could I forget?" Ardon laughed again. Elder Raskin cleared his throat.

"I know you are pleased to see your brother Ardon," he said hesitantly, "but he did betray us."

"Betray us!" Ardon exclaimed. "Abedeel would betray me. I tried to tell you."

"I think it's time you told us all," Elder Dasky said gently, "and let us make the decision."

Abedeel explained himself. "The night I left, Ardon had planned to lead you into battle the next day; a battle he knew he could never win. The Cause was lost. We had told you of our decision and you concurred."

"Yes," Elder Caspin said, "but then word came to withdraw. You changed your mind."

"I said that I needed a spy," Ardon said, "and Abedeel came up with the Idea. That night, while the camp was being dismantled, we went to see the old Lore Master. We wrote a code that would look like meaningless lines on paper, and the Lore Master gave us a way to remember there would be no treason."

"He gave us a mixture," Abedeel explained, "that would keep our hands from healing once our blood had mixed."

"Abedeel would write me a message," Ardon said, "and leave it on the battlefield. I would return that night and find it. Once I had read it, it would be destroyed."

"That's what you were doing!" Elder Tompson exclaimed.

"Yest," Ardon said. "And you destroyed one of my messaged."

"But why didn't you tell us?" Elder Dasky asked.

"Tell one friend and the enemy will hear," Abedeel said. "Forgive our secrecy, but no one could know but ourselves. I had to decieve the Ruler."

"Then I got a message without the code words," Ardon said, remembering. "Was that yours?"

"Yes. I forgot. I'm sorry. I wrote it in blood, on the battlefield. My death was so close I could taste it, Ardon. Why didn't you lay off?"

"What was the message before that?" Ardon answered by way of a question.

"I wrote it after your victory on the river road," Abedeel said. "I told you not to attack like that because my position with the Ruler was not secure. Didn't you find it?"

"I found it," Ardon said, "but I never read it. I was arrested on that night and it was taken from me and destroyed. The next one didn't have the code words and the next, well, I was captured."

"What were the code words?" Elder Johnson asked.

"Never doubt," Abedeel said. "They were my last words to Ardon before I left."

"How did you escape?" Elder Dasky asked.

"I let him go," Abedeel answered. "In exchange for information on his movements."

"So you were the traitor!" Elder Raskin exclaimed, turning on Ardon. "All these months you've promised victory and led us to defeat!"

"There had to be a reason," Ardon pleaded. "He couldn't let me go withotu a reason."

"Yet men died," Elder Raskin said accusingly. "You lead men to death and then mourn for it, knowing all along what you are doing?"

"There is a price for Freedom," Ardon said, his voice choked with emotion. "That price has been paid in full. There will be no more bloodshed. I promise."

Abedeel stood behind his brother and added, "Never doubt."