Walker slipped quickly through the narrow opening in the town gates and they closed behind with him a solid thud. Before him lay the open town square. He saw a large group of townsfolk standing together around a tall man wearing the red coat of the town mayor. Walker was hungry after his long hike but the shops were closed. No one took any notice of him. The people, who looked anxious and fearful, were in a meeting.

The glovemaker said, “We’ve been able to keep them out for a few days but eventually the Grey Wolf’s agents get in. His slaves are sneaky. How can we keep them away?”

The lampmaker said, “Sacred fire would protect us but our fires have gone out. We need the fire!”

The watchman reported, “Our walls and doors were strong enough but yesterday his vultures flew overhead, checking out our defenses. I think they are planning to get in.”

Someone cried, “If only we had a messenger we could get word to the King to send a King’s Hero from his court!”

The people shouted, “Yes, a King’s Hero! Yes, send a messenger! We need a messenger!”

The school teacher said, “Whom should we send? Who would go?”

Walker felt his kayline warm on his heart. He felt the message, You go. I will go with you.

So he stood up and said, “Here I am. Send me.”

The townspeople all turned to stare at him.

Finally, the tall man with the red coat said, “The road is too dangerous for a child. What weapons do you carry?”

The kayline warmed his heart again and Walker felt the message, Take what you find in your bag. While everyone watched, he reached into his haversack and felt a cool metal handle fit into his palm. He pulled it out and saw it was a small sword. With a sudden swoop he lifted it above his head and cried, “The Word of the King, lively and active!”

The people stepped back. The candlemaker said in awe, “He has a sword? All of ours have rusted and crumbled to dust.”

“What is the message I must bring the King’s Hero?” said Walker.

“Tell him the town of Cold River needs the sacred fire,” said the mayor.

“Where do I need to go to find him?” Walker asked as he tucked the sword away again in the bag.

The mayor answered with a tone that implied Walker was an idiot not to know, “Go to the King’s Court. All the King’s Heroes dwell there. The King makes Heroes only of the best and most deserving. He trains them there and sends them out when there is hero work to be done.”

“I don’t know the way,” said Walker.

The mayor waved vaguely toward the north.

A third time the kayline warmed and spoke to his heart, I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go. I will counsel you with My eye upon you.

An old woman in a baker’s apron stepped forward. “You need to know the riddle, young man; You need the riddle!” Several of the school children rolled their eyes. “It’s old Betty and her silly riddle!” they said scornfully. But the mayor shushed them and let her speak.

She said, “My grandfather taught it to me for such a time as this. You tell it to the Hero so he will know where to collect the fire.”

She recited,

“Seek the flaming embers where
The living waters run;
A house of stone remembers there
The Death of the Living One.”

She had Walker say it back to her three times to make sure he knew it, while the people looked on silently. At last she nodded. “You have it, boy. That’s settled,” she said brightly. “Come have supper with me and sleep in my house tonight before you go.”

“Gladly,” said Walker. “And I’ll leave first thing in the morning to seek the King’s Hero at the King’s court.”