Eibithar, the setting for Rules of Ascension, the first volume of Winds of the Forelands, is a land with a rich history. Like many cultures in our own world, its history is told in the form of legends and heroic myths. Most of these involve Binthar, the greatest of Eibithar's legendary warriors. What follows are a few of the most important tales of the great warrior....

And if you enjoy these myths, read David B. Coe's short story, "Night of Two Moons." Set in the Forelands at the time of the Qirsi Wars, nearly nine centuries before the events described in Winds of the Forelands, this new tale appears in the Summer 2002 issue of Black Gate, and can now be found on this web site.

THE HISTORY OF EIBITHAR

David B. Coe, © 2002

The Story of Binthar

More than a thousand years before the Qirsi Wars, several years before even the great battles with the warrior clans of the southern Forelands, there lived in the north, near where Thorald Castle stands today, a man named Binthar. Of all the warriors in all the northern clans, Binthar was the bravest and the most renowned in battle. His sword, it was said, could cleave stone. Caught once alone and unarmed by a rival clan leader and his men, he ripped a great oak from the ground and wielded it like a club, slaying four of his attackers, including their leader, with his first blow, and four more with the second, before the others fled.

With Binthar leading them, the warriors of the Thorald clan swept across the north-central Forelands defeating clan after clan until all of what is now Eibithar lay under Binthar's control.

The night of the final battle, as the pyre for the dead burned bright on the Moorlands, Orlagh, Goddess of war, honored Binthar by appearing before him and lying with him.

"You are the greatest warrior in the land," she told him as they moved together beneath the starlight. "I will bear your son and he will be a warrior like no other. He will be called Eibin, and his strength and cunning will surpass even yours."

But though Orlagh loved Binthar and deigned to bear his child, Bian, God of the Underrealm, who was her father, hated him. The God had marked Binthar for death more than once, only to see the Warrior survive through skill, or luck, or, he suspected, Orlagh's intervention. So the day after Binthar lay with the Goddess, Bian came to the Warrior in the guise of a young man from the southern Forelands.

"Word of your great deeds has reached my people in the south," Bian said. "We have heard that you are the bravest and the strongest and fastest. Is this true?"

Binthar grinned, for though he was great in war, he was not without his faults, and vanity was the worst among them. "It is," he said. "None can best me, and that is why the upper Forelands now belong to me and my men."

The God in his guise smiled as well. "Then perhaps you will accept a challenge from one who has achieved fame of his own in another part of the land."

"Of course, friend," Binthar said. "What have you in mind?"

"A race, good sir, and nothing more. From here to the ocean. We can begin at dawn."

"And what stakes?"

Bian had to suppress a smile, for here was the essence of his deception. "No stakes are necessary to make the contest interesting," he said. "But if we must have something to wager, perhaps our swords will do. If I win, I will take yours. If you win, I will give you mine."

Bian knew that his own blade appeared to be the better of the two, for where Binthar's sword was battle worn and notched, the steel of his gleamed in the sunlight, and the crystals in its golden hilt sparkled like sunlight on the ocean. But it was all an illusion. Bian's sword was actually a serpent of the most deadly kind, and when Binthar placed his hand upon it, the creature would come to life and strike him dead.

Binthar of course knew nothing of this. "That sounds most fair," he said. And he took leave of the God to prepare for the great race.

That night, as Binthar slept, Orlagh came to him again.

"You cannot race this man," she said. "He is my father in disguise, and he will let you win so that his serpent can kill you."

"What if I let him win?"

"He seeks to punish me for loving you. He has told the gods that he considers himself at war with you, so the rules of war will guide him. If you give him your sword, you give him your life. He will strike you down. Either way you will die."

"Then I have no choice but to win."

The next morning, as the sun appeared on the eastern horizon, the race began, and almost immediately the young man from the south took the lead. Binthar struggled to keep up with him, but he could not.

Instead, he halted and raised his voice to the sky.

"Amon!" he cried. "God of the Sea! Hear me! Bian seeks to take my life through trickery. And he seeks to do so at the shores of your great ocean.

Binthar knew that Amon hated the God of the Underrealm as no other, for long ago, before time, Bian had disguised himself as the Water God and had lain with Elined, Goddess of the Earth, Amon's mate.

From the highlands on the great Steppe, a torrent of water rushed toward him with a sound like thunder in the heat of summer. Stopping just before him, the water rose up, like a man rising from sleep, until it towered over him. Green and blue it was, like the sea, and it took the form of a man, his muscles rippling like a gentle tide. His head was framed by white foam that flowed down to his shoulders like hair, and his eyes glimmered like pale moonlight on a calm harbor.

"Who summons me?" he roared, his voice like breakers in a storm.

"It is Binthar of Thorald, great one."

"Ah, yes," the Water God said. "Mate of the War Goddess."

"Bian seeks my life."

"So you said. I cannot stop him from killing you. That is not our way."

"No, but you can take me to your sea so that I reach it before he does. I will do the rest."

The God considered this, and after a moment he nodded. "That I can do."

And lifting Binthar is his great, surging arms, he bore the Warrior to the sands of his vast ocean in what is known today as Binthar's Wash.

"Thank you, my Lord," Binthar said as the God set him down on the strand. "I am in your debt."

"Seeing the Deceiver bested will be recompense enough," the God answered. And with that he receded into the ocean like a dying wave.

Bian, still in his guise, arrived a few moments later, and stared at the Warrior in disbelief.

"It seems I have won," Binthar said. "Your sword is mine."

The smile returned to the God's face. "Of course, good sir. I am more than happy to give my sword over to such a warrior."

Pulling the shining sword from its scabbard, the God extended it toward Binthar, hilt first.

As soon as the Warrior took it in hand, the blade came to life. Where once there had been steel and jewels, there was now a black serpent with long curving fangs and golden eyes.

Binthar was ready, and moving so quickly that his hands were but a blur in the morning sun, he threw the creature into the air, drew his own blade and slashed at it, cutting it in two. But the serpent was a servant of Bian, and it too was swift. Even as his blade carved through the serpent, Binthar felt blood flowing on his hand. Looking down, he saw that the creature had bitten him. He felt venom flowing up his arm like ice water. And as he fell to his knees, he heard the Deceiver laugh.

"This will teach you to lie with a Goddess, Warrior," Bian said. "And as you die perhaps you will realize that no mortal can deny me a life to which I have laid claim."

Binthar tried to answer, but the venom had taken hold of his body, paralyzing him. He toppled over to his side and watched helplessly as the Deceiver sunk back into his realm beneath the earth.

"I will come for you soon, Warrior," the God said as he descended, a smile on his lips.

But for the Goddess who loved him, Binthar would have died then. Orlagh came to him, weeping in her grief and her rage. Gods paid a price when they interfered in the affairs of other gods, but Orlagh did not care. She loved Binthar, and she carried his child. She summoned Ean, her son, the God who created the men and women of the Forelands, and pleaded with him to save Binthar's life.

"I will not do this, Mother," the God said coldly. "I know of this man. He is the greatest of my children. But by loving him you have betrayed my father. And even if I wanted to help you, I could not undo what the Deceiver has done. Not even for this one."

"Not even for me?" Orlagh asked desperately.

Ean looked away. He had never been able to deny his mother anything. "This is not something I would be doing for you. You are asking me to save the Warrior's life, not your own. I will not defy Bian for your lover."

"Will you do it then for my child, your half-brother, who will lose his father before his birth?"

Ean stared at her. "You are with child?"

She nodded, and doing so, she saw that he wavered.

"And what shall I tell Bian?"

"I will take the blame for you," Orlagh said. "Whatever the price of this act, I will pay it." She looked down at Binthar, tears still on her face. "Please, Ean. He dies as we speak."

Still Ean hesitated. "You love him that much?" he finally asked.

"I do," Orlagh said.

For a long time Ean said nothing. Finally he gave a single nod. And bending down over the Warrior, the God laid his hands upon him and drew the venom out of the man's body.

After some time, he stood again and looked upon his mother gravely. "He will sleep for a time, but he will live. You would do well to bear him away from this place. Bian will return for him shortly. Neither of you should be here when he does."

"I will do as you say," Orlagh said. "Thank you, my son."

Ean said nothing, but merely turned away and left her there.

The Goddess lifted Binthar into her arms and bore him back to his home in the north, where he awoke four days later, alone, but whole again.

When Bian returned for his prize only to find him gone, his rage made the earth shudder and his cries threatened to rend the sky. Once more the Warrior had cheated death, and his daughter had defied him.

Binthar and Orlagh's victory carried a great cost, however. When Eibin was born the following spring, Bian sent Orlagh's jealous sister, Murnia, Goddess of Pestilence, for the babe. He died less than a day after his birth.

The Legend of the Geth

Even after the death of Binthar's son, Bian's appetite for revenge remained unsated. He had been bested by a man, and his own daughter had sided with the Warrior against him. But therein lay his chance to avenge his humiliation. For Orlagh was mated to Kebb, God of Beasts, who was renowned for his temper and his jealousy. When Bian approached Kebb asking his aid in destroying Binthar, Kebb eagerly agreed.

At Bian's prodding, Kebb created two beasts to take before the Warrior. One was a great golden stallion, with a long, silken black mane and blue fire in its eyes. It was far more swift than any horse in the Forelands, and it was more wild than the fiercest creatures Kebb had ever made. Indeed, so certain was the God of Beasts that no man could tame the stallion, much less ride it, that he called it Pard, which in the ancient language of the gods means "untouchable one."

The second beast was as menacing as Pard was beautiful. It stood as tall as the grandest stag in the North Wood and it had the body of a wildcat and the head of an eagle. Its claws were like daggers, and its beak so huge and so sharp that no man could stand against it. And yet, for all its strength and size, it was the creature's mind that made it so deadly. For it was as intelligent as any man. Its golden eyes could not be deceived, even by the most cunning opponent. This creature Kebb called the Geth, which means "one without pity."

Binthar was in the Glyndwr Highlands when Kebb came to him with Pard and the Geth. The Warrior knew, of course, that Orlagh was mated to Kebb, and he had heard tales of Kebb's pride and jealousy.

"You honor me, great God," Binthar said, bowing before Kebb, who appeared to him as an enormous white wolf with baleful yellow eyes. "How may I serve you?"

"Rise, Warrior!" the God growled. "I seek nothing from you but your death."

"I am sorry that I have given you offense, great God. That was not my intention."

"You have lain with my mate. Did you think I would not take offense? Did you think I would not know?"

"Tell me how I might earn your forgiveness, great one," Binthar said, keeping his head bowed and his eyes on the ground before him.

"There is no forgiveness. There is no mercy. If I were permitted to strike you down myself I would. But my kind cannot do such things. So instead I have brought you Pard, the horse that cannot be tamed, and Geth, the enemy that cannot be defeated. If you manage somehow to tame the horse, you can flee from the Geth, but then it will be loose upon the land, and many will die."

"If it kills me will not the same be true?" Binthar asked.

"If it kills you, I will call it back and it will harm no other. I give you my word."

"If I can tame the horse, can I use her to fight this other creature?"

Kebb smiled darkly, showing his sparkling white fangs. "If you can tame him." A moment later, the God gave a loud howl, his face raised to the sky. Then he regarded the Warrior again. "Begin," he said.

Binthar approached Pard slowly, whispering softly, his arms outstretched as if to show that he carried so weapon. But the great horse scampered away. And before Binthar could try again, the Geth lunged at him, its deadly beak snapping dangerously close to the Warrior's head.

Binthar dove out of the way, swiping at the Geth's leg with his sword, which he had drawn with lightning speed. But the Geth was too quick. It leapt toward him again, and Binthar just barely had time to get away. And this time, when he swung his sword, he caught the awful creature in the hind leg.

The Geth let out a mind-rending shriek, and Binthar, sensing his advantage, dove at it again. But this time the Geth was ready, and it delivered a blow of its own. Claws raked the Warrior's leg so that rivers of blood ran down to his feet and stained the ground.

Backing away as fast he could, Binthar approached Pard again, and once more, the stallion danced away. The Geth was closing on him, and Binthar sensed that he was doomed to die here, just as the God intended. So he did the only thing he could. Turning his back on the Geth even as it came toward him, he bowed to the stallion, much as he had bowed to Kebb moments before.

"My life is yours," he said to the great creature. "For as long as I live I will ride no other, even if it should mean my death."

The magnificent horse stared at him for an instant, and then, just as the Geth was poised above the Warrior, ready to strike him dead with its deadly paw, Pard leapt forward, its front hooves kicking wildly at the Geth so that it caught the creature with a blow to the chest.

The Geth fell heavily onto its side, but quickly twisted back onto its feet, snarling with surprised rage. In that single moment, however, Pard allowed Binthar to climb onto his back, and together, the two of them jumped away from the Geth. The creature began to stalk them, but the stallion was too quick. After a time, the Geth started to grow weary, and sensing this, Binthar whispered gently in the stallion's ear. The horse whinnied once and then bolted forward, leaping above the Geth so that Binthar could drop down upon its back. And as he landed, the Warrior drove his sword through the Geth's head, killing it instantly.

Kebb stood dumb, too astonished at first to speak. "You have tamed what could not be tamed," he whispered at last, the sound like a low growl from the huge wolf, "and so vanquished what could not be vanquished."

Binthar bowed his head again. "I am sorry, great one. I wish to ease your anger, not inflame it. But I had no choice."

But Kebb shook his head. "You need not apologize. The Deceiver told me that you were without honor or courage, that your fame was the product of trickery and nothing more. But I should have known better than to believe him." He raised his great head and there was a look of pride in his yellow eyes. "Orlagh would never have loved such a man as she loves you."

"Again, great one, I am sorry for offending you."

"Orlagh offered herself to you. She is a Goddess, and for all your valor and strength, you are still but a man. You could no more refuse her than I could resist the Deceiver. You have earned my mercy, and more, Binthar of Thorald. What would you ask of me?"

Binthar thought for a moment. "I would ask nought but this fine animal," he said at last, stroking Pard's nose.

Kebb actually grinned. "She is yours. I do not think she would have it any other way." His smile vanished. "Your debt to me is repaid, Warrior. But beware the Deceiver. He hunts you still."

"Thank you, great one."

And with that, Kebb left him. But the Warrior and the golden stallion remained together for the rest of Binthar's days, and they fought many great battles together. So strong was their bond, that to this day the seal of the House of Thorald bears Pard's likeness.

The War of the Thunder Moon

Though Binthar was the most powerful and most successful of the great warlords of the Forelands, he was by no means the only one. Indeed, in the early days, before the kingdoms, warlords were common and battles among the warring clans raged almost constantly. For many years after his victory on the Moorlands, Binthar tried to unite the clans of the north under his leadership. But though several of the clan leaders pledged their support to him, many others preferred to remain apart.

Eleven years after his victory on the Moorlands, however, just after midsummer, an enormous army of warriors from the southern forelands attacked the clans of the north. Two large parties entered the northlands, one sweeping down off the Great Steppe and the other crossing the Tarbin just to the west of Harrier Fen. They were mounted on steeds and armed with swords, battle axes, and the curved blades of the southern mountains, known as Basaks. And in their first rush through the northern Forelands they nearly destroyed the clans of Binthar.

But the great warrior could not be defeated so easily. He sent messengers to all the clans, urging them to unite under his leadership.

"Tell them that we can only prevail by standing together," he told his footmen. "We will meet on the western edge of the North Wood. There we will make our plan to reclaim the northlands."

Though some of them had resisted his leadership in the past, all the other warlords of the north answered Binthar's summons, for they knew that only he could lead them to victory against such an enemy. They met at the western edge of the great wood, just as Binthar had instructed. Smoke from the fires set by the advancing army of the south, made the setting sun look red and baleful like the eye of a demon set upon the earth by Bian the Deceiver himself.

"We must lure them into the wood," Binthar said. "There, the beasts they ride will put them at a disadvantage."

"But if we retreat into the wood they will burn us out," one of the other warlords said. "They will slaughter us as we flee the blaze."

"I will see that they don't," the Warrior told them. "Have your best archers ready. Tomorrow we take back our land."

A cheer went up from the gathered men that was so loud it is said that the army of the south heard it. And for the first time since entering the northlands, the men of the south knew fear.

That night, the night of two moons in Morna's Turn, as the others slept, Binthar summoned Osya, Goddess of the Wood.

He had only to wait a short while before she came to him, her expression severe. Hale and tall, she was, with limbs like sturdy branches, corded with muscle. Her hair was rich green and soft like mosses and ferns, and her face was smooth as the bark of a mighty beech. But her eyes blazed like green stars in a clear winter sky.

"Who are you who summons me at the edge of my great wood?" she demanded.

The Warrior bowed his head and dropped to one knee. "I am Binthar of Thorald, greatest warrior of the northlands, and mate of your half-sister Orlagh."

"My brother Kebb is Orlagh's mate," the Goddess answered. "You are but a man. Besides, Orlagh's conquests are of no interest to me. Tell me why I should not strike you down for your insolence."

"Because, great one, tomorrow I will stand against an army that threatens to overrun the northlands."

"I care nothing for the affairs of men. You can kill them or they can kill you. It is all the same to me."

"But we will have no choice but to retreat into your wood. And then they will burn it."

The Goddess smiled cruelly. "I could summon my brother and have his beasts kill you and your men now. That way the army of which you speak would leave my forest in peace."

Binthar gestured toward his great golden stallion. "This is Pard, a gift from your brother. He no longer seeks my death."

She regarded the horse for a moment before facing Binthar again. "My brother's willingness to forgive you proves only that you are a most fortunate man," she said. "I still have no interest in your wars. And even if I did, there is little I could do to help you."

"You could guard your wood from the fire," Binthar said.

She hesitated, but only for an instant. "Eilidh would not allow such a thing."

"Perhaps we should ask her."

The Goddess regarded him coolly. "Why should I do this for you?"

"Because," Binthar told her, "if Eilidh agrees, you will never have to fear for your wood again. No fire will ever touch it." The Goddess narrowed her glowing green eyes. "You are clever, for a man."

"I speak only the truth, great one. I need to protect my men, and you wish to guard your wood. Our needs are similar. Perhaps together we can convince the Fire Goddess to grant us this boon."

Osya considered this for some time before finally nodding her agreement.

"Very well," she said. "I will summon her. But it will do you no good."

She closed her eyes and for some time all around them was still.

Then there was a spark in the darkness, as if someone had struck a flint. And a flame, no larger than the light of the candle, appeared on the ground before them. Rapidly it built, until it burned as tall as the Wood Goddess. And as it burned, it took form, until it seemed that there was a person at its core, burning like wood in a hearth. The form had no features; even its eyes could not be discerned. But there could be no mistaking the presence. This was Eilidh, Goddess of Fire.

"You have summoned me, Wood Goddess," she said, in a voice that crackled like dry wood as it burns. "Why?"

"This man has requested that I do so. He is Binthar, the Warrior. He seeks refuge in my wood from a great army, and he asks that you guard my trees from the fires that this army will surely set."

The great flame seemed to turn toward Binthar

"And why should I agree, Warrior?"

Binthar bowed once more. "The men of the north have always honored you, great one. Now we need your help. Without it, we will die on the morrow."

"The men you fight honor me as well. Why should I care which of you live and which of you perish? Why should I renounce my claim to this wood just for you? You win your war, and the Wood Goddess protects her trees. But what do I gain from this?"

At that moment an idea came to the Warrior. "Perhaps there is a solution that will suit all of us," Binthar said. "Guard this wood from flame, Fire Goddess, and in return, the people of the north will light fires for you every summer on this night."

He sensed her hesitation. She was fire, insatiable and proud.

"This is the night of two moons in my mother's turn," she said softly, her voice like coals settling in a dying fire. "You honor her this night."

"We will honor you as well. I swear it to you on the memory of my son, Eibin, whom your father and your half-sister took from me so many years ago."

Eilidh heard the truth in his words, and after a moment she nodded, a flicker in the flame that was her being.

"It shall be so," she said.

The next morning, when the army of the south attacked, Binthar and his men retreated into the wood. And as the Warrior had expected, the attackers quickly threw pitch onto the trees in an attempt to burn them out. But the wood did not catch, and as the warriors of the south struggled to light their fire, Binthar's archers loosed their arrows. Many of the southmen fell, and the others spurred their mounts into the wood to pursue Binthar's army. But amid the trees, their horses hindered their ability to fight, and Binthar's men quickly gained the upper hand. For hours the battle raged, staining the forest floor with blood and filling the wood with screams and the stench of death.

And finally, as the sun began its slow arc toward the western horizon, the men of the south broke off their attack and fled.

So great was Binthar's victory, and so grateful were the people of the north, that they pledged themselves to his leadership for the rest of his life, and offered to name the lands of the northern Forelands Bintharia. The Warrior, however, wished to honor Eibin, his lost son, and so in the end their names were combined, and the land was called Eibithar.

From that year forward, every summer on the night of two moons in Morna's Turn, the men and women of Eibithar lit fires to honor Eilidh. And from that night forward, no fire ever harmed the North Wood again.

The Emergence of the Twelve Houses

In the years immediately following their victory in the War of the Thunder Moon, the clans of Eibithar put aside their age- old feuds and worked together to make Eibithar the preeminent power in the Forelands. Not content merely to have repelled the invaders, Binthar and his followers pursued them, expanding Eibithar's territory southward until it included all the land north of the Rassor River and west of Orlagh's River, in what is now Aneira and Caerisse. With Binthar leading them, the clans came to believe that they could not be defeated, and they became the most feared warriors in all the Forelands.

But despite his strength and his skill with a blade and battle axe, Binthar was but a man. In a battle with the armies of the south near the Red Forest, the great warrior was felled by an arrow through his heart. He died that night.

It is said that Bian the Deceiver exulted in Binthar's death, so long had he waited for the Warrior to fall. It is also said that he intended to make Binthar suffer an eternity of pain and torment for the many times he had managed to foil the God's intentions. But the other gods, with Orlagh and Amon leading them, managed to put aside their differences in this one instance. Together they compelled Bian to give Binthar a place of honor in the Underrealm and to leave him in peace. Even in death, Binthar was able to thwart the Deceiver's intentions.

In the days that followed the Warrior's death, the armies of the south, sensing their advantage, drove Eibithar's army back. Without Binthar to lead them, the men of the north could do little but retreat. Forlorn, leaderless, and in disarray they fell back until they were forced to cross the Tarbin once more. There they rallied, stopping the advance of the southmen, but they had lost all that Binthar had gained.

In the aftermath of the Warrior's death and Eibithar's losses, affairs in the north returned to how they had been before Binthar's victory at the North Wood. The northern reaches of the Forelands continued to be known as Eibithar, but there was little to distinguish it from the rest of the Forelands. Once more, warfare raged among the clans. Occasionally the northmen repelled invasions from the south, but they had no leader. And for a thousand years, northmen killed northmen.

Eventually, however, the clan wars did begin to change the land. Certain clans grew in power while others faded and eventually vanished or were swallowed up by more powerful neighbors. Finally, there were only a dozen left and perhaps sensing that a millennium of warfare had at last run its course, the leaders of these twelve agreed to end the clan wars. So it was that the Twelve Houses of Eibithar were born. They are: Kentigern, seated near Kentigern Tor on the Tarbin River; Heneagh, on the Heneagh River, just south of the Moorlands; Tremain, also on the Heneagh River, just east of where the waterway is met by the Sussyn; Sussyn, on the Sussyn River, in the shadow of Blood Falls; Glyndwr, in the Glyndwr Highlands atop the Caerissan Steppe; Curgh, on the northwest coast of Eibithar, overlooking the Strait of Wantrae; Galdasten, near Galdasten Tor and the mouth of Binthar's Wash; Domhnall, in central Eibithar, along Binthar's Wash; Labhruinn, at the southern edge of the North Wood, along the Thorald River; Thorald, House of Kings, on the northern coast of Eibithar, near the mouth of the Thorald; Eardley, on the eastern coast, overlooking the Narrows and the mouth of the Gulf of Kreanna; and Rennach, on the eastern coast of the Caerissan Steppe, overlooking the Gulf of Kreanna.

The Qirsi Wars

Word of the strange men of the Southlands had begun to reach the Forelands just around the time the Twelve Houses were born. The Southlanders, it was said, were odd in appearance, with skin so fair it was almost transparent. Their hair was nearly white and their eyes were pale yellow. They were not particularly strong, and indeed, they were said to be slight of frame. But they had strange powers that made them nearly invincible in battle. Stories had reached the north of swords shattering when the Southlanders approached, of trained horses growing frightened and throwing riders for no apparent reason, of mists appearing suddenly on clear days, and of scorching fires wiping away entire armies. And as the tales grew ever more fantastic, some began to call these strangers from the Southlands the Children of Qirsar, as if they were descended directly from the God of Magic. Soon, they were simply known as the Qirsi.

The Qirsi first crossed the Border Range into the Forelands in the year 1316 by the old Eibitharian calendar. They came in force, with a large army that easily defeated even the fiercest warriors of the mountains in what is now Uulrann. The clans of present day, Caerisse, Aneira, and Sanbira fled northward to escape them, and for a time it seemed that the strange men of the Southlands and their magic would soon claim all of the Forelands.

From the north, however, came two leaders who united the Forelanders against the invaders. One was Audun, the leader of the Thorald clan in northern Eibithar, and the other was Braedor, the leader of the Curtell clan on the great western peninsula of the Forelands. Sending messengers on ships back and forth across the Scabbard Inlet, the two leaders devised a plan for defeating the Qirsi. In part their plan consisted of nothing more than sound military strategy. While Audun, leading the warriors of Eibithar and what is now Wethyrn held off the Qirsi in the north, Braedor would lead his own warriors and what was left of the clans of the lower Forelands and attack the Qirsi army from the south.

But from the tales they had heard of other battles with the Qirsi, Audun and Braedor had gleaned that whatever powers the strangers possessed were most effective in close combat. So rather than charging into the Southlanders' ranks, the Foreland armies used their archers to keep the Qirsi at a distance. The Southlanders raised their mists. They used their magic to turn aside some of the arrows. They even managed to send out small raiding parties, which wreaked havoc among the armies of the Forelands before finally being destroyed. But they could not prevail.

Day after day, the Qirsi and the warriors of the Forelands fought a vicious war of slow attrition. Losses were heavy on both sides, but after a time it became apparent that the Qirsi were weakening. Theirs had been the smaller army to begin with, and the Qirsi had their limits, both in the scope of their power and their physical endurance. Though Audun and Braedor knew the cost of their victory would be great, they grew increasingly confident with each day that passed.

Then, after nearly a fortnight of slaughter, one of the Qirsi's leaders, a man named Carthach, who had been fighting Braedor along the southern line of the war, snuck across the battle line and offered to give aid to the Forelanders in exchange for gold and the promise of asylum. Little is known of what prompted Carthach to do such a thing, though it is said that he was a lesser commander, not a general, and certainly not a man who stood to gain as much as others from a Qirsi victory. It is also said that he had been reprimanded on several occasions by his superiors for his poor leadership in battle.

Initially Braedor refused Carthach's offer, thinking it a trick and questioning what good a single man could do against the Qirsi army. But when Carthach began to give him information about the size of the Qirsi army, the whereabouts of its other commanders, and most importantly, about the limitations of Qirsi magic, Braedor agreed to his demands.

According to Carthach, his entire battle group would be willing to follow him if offered similar terms. This, he promised, would significantly weaken the southern flank of the Qirsi army, since Qirsi magic was far more powerful when wielded by many acting as one. But more than that, Carthach promised to lead Braedor and his army to the Weavers, the Qirsi whose magic enabled the others to combine their power into a single force. Sensing not only that Carthach's offer would end the war, but also that it could make him the most powerful man in the Forelands, Braedor agreed. However, he sent no word of this to Audun, and a day later, when Carthach led his men over to the Forelanders and Braedor broke through the southern ranks of the Qirsi army, it seemed that Braedor and his men had won a stunning victory. Within a few days, Braedor and Audun defeated the rest of the Qirsi army, but the cost to Audun's warriors was great.

In the aftermath of the war Braedor, Audun, and the other leaders of the Forelands agreed that the time had come to divide the Forelands into states, each of which would be responsible for its own defense. Because of Braedor's success on the battle field, and since his army was by far the strongest at the end of the war, he secured for his people the entire western peninsula of the Forelands. Audun, of course, was granted all of Eibithar, and other leaders of the army were given territory as well.

It was also decreed that from that time forward, all the states of the Forelands would follow the same calendar, with this year, the year 1317 by the old Eibitharian calendar, being the year 1.

The leaders of the Qirsi army, with the exception of Carthach, were put to death, as were all of the Weavers. Without the Weavers, Carthach assured the leaders of the Forelands, the remaining Qirsi posed little threat. The lives of the rest of the Qirsi warriors, men and women alike, were spared. But as an added precaution, to keep them from banding together and wielding their magic in force, the Qirsi were separated and taken to the courts of all the kingdoms, as were the Qirsi warriors who had been left to guard the southern Forelands, and who were now, in the wake of Audun and Braedor's victory, easily defeated by the armies of the Forelands.

Over the years stretching to centuries that followed, as other Qirsi wandered over the Border Range into the Forelands, they were accepted into the courts as well, warily to be sure, but with eagerness as well. For the Qirsi were strong, and even individually, they would be valuable to the kings and queens of the Forelands as advisors and aides. Always, however, when Weavers were discovered among them, they were executed.