ã€ŠThe Crow and The Rabbitã€‹


 Introduction

    ¡°Hope the ride isn''t too rough, Lady Ferene.¡±

    There it was again. The wagon''s driver, a middle-aged farmer covered in as much dirt as Ferene herself was, somehow looked at her and saw someone better than him. For no reason other than her ears being pointed and sticking out at the wrong angle, a sign of her mixed blood. Ferene sighed. ¡°Just Ferene is fine, and don''t worry about the bumps. Stick to the plan, and try to ignore the fact that I''m here.¡±

    Probably better to deal with someone who placed her above them, than to have to make this journey with a driver that constantly scowled at her, mistrusting her differences. Someone like that wouldn''t have gone along with Ferene''s plan to begin with. Ferene clutched her sword tighter to her body, the weight of it her only comfort. She lay flat in the bed of the wagon, a layer of wood above her, keeping her out of sight. Her plan involved her moving her feet off the footholds and sliding out the back, onto the road. Ferene''s legs hurt, now entering the third hour of holding herself in this position.

    News of a group of bandits targeting wagons on this road left the population of the nearby town scared. Ferene, following any rumors of bandits she heard, offered a solution ¨C send an empty wagon, with a volunteer driver, down the road as bait. When someone appeared to rob it, the driver would make a break for it, and Ferene would slide out and start fighting. With no actual cargo the driver should be able to get away safely, and Ferene would either kill all the brigands, or die trying but make any survivors think twice about preying on this particular roadway again. Maybe. She wasn''t entirely sure about that part of the plan ¨C she just hated a certain kind of individual.

    From her hiding spot, she heard voices, and felt the wagon slowing. The driver was talking to someone, but the wood made it hard to hear both sides of the conversation. Pinpricks of light shone through the boards that had been lazily nailed together to create the ruse, but none of the gaps were big enough for her to see. Her only way of knowing it was time for her to exit was if the wagon suddenly accelerated, and when that happened she had to hit the ground and immediately prepare for a fight ¨C or to get filled with arrows from a distance. Perhaps farmers weren''t the best tacticians. She certainly did not care ¨C the only thing Ferene needed to do was cut down a group of completely horrible people that didn''t deserve to keep living, and if she died in the process, then her previous crimes as a member of a very similar group would be paid for. Self hate made things easy, that way.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    She heard the driver shout, and the wagon jolted forward, loud thumps echoing around her. Wrapping one hand around her sword, Ferene pulled her feet in, shoved her other hand against the board over her head, and pushed. Just as planned, and practiced once, she slid out of the back of the wagon, hitting the ground boots first, tumbling forward. Tucking her knees to her chest, she turned her sword sideways and rolled, springing to her feet as she drew, tossing the leather sheath to the side. Five feet of sharpened steel held in front of her, Ferene spun, her green eyes searching for a target.

    A man stood almost directly beside her, holding a long knife in one hand. She slammed her sword into him immediately, still turning to look for anyone else. There, she spotted two on the side of the road, holding crossbows. Both were empty, likely fired at the wagon when the driver bolted. The man beside her fell to the ground, bleeding, and Ferene ran.

    Ferene specialized in running. The two bandits turned to look at her, one reaching for a knife, but she was already on them, swinging her sword with both hands. She dropped one, carrying her momentum around to attack the next. Blood splattered the dirt of the road, and she turned around, looking back across. Ferene saw no bandits on the opposite side. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, feeling her heart pounding in her chest as she walked back to her discarded leather sheath. Picking it up, Ferene stared at it, holding her sword in her other hand.

    The sheath was filthy. Her sword was filthy.

    She was filthy.

    What a ¡°Lady Ferene¡± she was, a filthy, blood covered, former bandit. Noble Blood of Watchers flowed through her veins, and she stood in the middle of a back road, connecting one insignificant town to another equally insignificant town, her weapon covered in dirt, blood, and scratches and notches from too much use and too little maintenance. Ferene frowned, wiped the blood off her sword, and shoved it back in the sheath, slinging it over her shoulder. There was no Lady Ferene. There was no noble blood.

    Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Ferene started walking down the road, following the wagon tracks. She felt only anger. Anger at her fallen foes, anger at herself, anger at her human mother for letting bandits raise her, anger at her father, that she never met, for leaving her mother. Anger at the world.

 Chapter 1: Bloody Night

    Food was a reason for Ferene to temporarily set aside her goal of ridding the world of a kind of basic evil. Growing up, her meals had mainly been dried meat, soup, stale bread and porridge. Things like this weren''t common back then. In the dining hall of a tavern, she sat at a table, a bowl of fruit in front of her. A small knife had been provided, but she bit into a pear directly, her eyes on the bowl, considering which of the options to eat next.

    Her free hand drifted towards her sword, laying across the wooden table, as a man sat down across from her. While he wore a simple outfit, his muscles and the way he moved made her wary. Ferene''s instincts told her that this person was dangerous. She glanced at him as he sat down, taking another bite of the pear, then went back to studying the fruit bowl. Her visitor stared at her for a moment, then cleared his throat. Ferene took another bite.

    ¡°I want to hire you for a job.¡± Placing the core of the pear on the table, Ferene grabbed a strawberry from the bowl, tossing the entire thing into her mouth. She wanted to eat, not think about the future. The man watched her, and repeated himself, louder this time.

    ¡°I''m eating.¡±

    ¡°Just need you to listen. I know who you are, I''ve heard enough talk about you over the last month. You''ve been going around killing the thugs that watch the roads around here, something the city watch claims to be too understaffed to do. I have some information about a group to the northeast, and their hideout.¡± He spoke fast, but clearly, his hands flat on the table in front of him. Ferene eyed him again, watching him twitch slightly under her gaze. She sighed, grabbing three blackberries.

    ¡°These people killed my wife.¡±

    Ferene stopped, holding the third berry in her fingers. ¡°Revenge?¡± He nodded. Ferene crushed the fruit in her hand, covering her fingers with juice. In the end, it was always about revenge. Someone begging her to do a job for them, offering reasoning and payment for her to do it ¨C she would have kept eating. This man wasn''t a beggar. ¡°You can fight?¡± She asked. He looked like he could. He looked like he knew what she felt, to some extent.

    ¡°I can. I have information, I know where the hideout is, how many of them there are. I can''t do it alone.¡±

    ¡°I''ll help.¡± Food was only something to do while waiting for more opportunities for revenge, after all.

    ¡°Some six years ago, the well here dried up. Several families of farmers left the homes they built around it and moved elsewhere. Two years ago, a group of bandits moved in. It''s placed near two major roads, so they have a lot of targets to hit.¡±

    Ferene stared at the map, looking at where the man, Tullund, pointed. There was a mark drawn on an otherwise empty area, with some letters written next to it. She nodded, looking at the spot and the two thick lines he indicated as the roads. ¡°How far is that from here?¡±

    ¡°A week from here, but only three days from the closest city. They travel quite a ways to do their work.¡± He pointed to some other markings and writing on the map. Ferene watched his hand move across it. He had brought her to his own room at an Inn, where he had spread a map across the bed, since it was too big for the small table. ¡°We should approach from this way, wait for a group of them to leave, then move in while they are out. Since they travel so far, we''ll have plenty of time to attack when they have reduced numbers.¡± He pointed to a few other spots on the map. Ferene looked it over, seeing his own writing in places.

    ¡°What''s this, down here?¡± She asked, pointing to a large square in the corner.

    He looked at where she was pointing, then at her. ¡°You...¡± He trailed off, taking his hands off the bed and running them through his hair. ¡°I...I could have saved some time, if you had just told me you couldn''t read.¡±

    ¡°You didn''t ask.¡± Ferene said, jaw clenched. She stared at him defiantly. He had come to her for help.

    ¡°You don''t know what a map legend is.¡±

    ¡°I know what the roads are.¡± She said, pointing at one.

    ¡°That''s a river.¡±

    She swallowed, looking at the map again for a moment, then back up at him. ¡°How many are in the camp, and how many will leave?¡±

    ¡°There shouldn''t be any more than eighteen of them, and usually six to eight would leave at a time to go raid. Of the ones that stay behind, at least four aren''t good in a fight, so we''re up against eight or less. I can pick some off from a distance, quietly. We can sneak in and take care of some of the others while they''re still sleeping.¡± He watched Ferene nod, then continued. ¡°There''s one specific to this, though. I want to take the leader alive.¡±

    ¡°They all die.¡± Ferene said.

    ¡°They all die, but I want to kill her myself. I want her to know that I came after her.¡±

    Ferene nodded. ¡°I don''t kill the leader.¡±

    Ferene specialized in running. More specifically, she specialized in crossing distances using her feet at a higher than average speed. Naturally, this included walking, even long distances. Walking with Tullund, she found herself mildly annoyed at having to consciously slow down, as she would easily outpace him on the road.

    He was also oddly talkative. Ferene vaguely remembered how talkative people could be, in close quarters. ¡°So, you don''t know how to read.¡± Tullund said, panting slightly as he struggled to keep pace with her. Clenching her jaw, Ferene remained silent. Reading wasn''t important. She could make do on her own. ¡°I always got the impression Hatharen would be really smart. A lot smarter than humans. Feels kind of odd that you can''t read.¡±

    ¡°I''m not a Hatharen.¡± She said, rubbing her hands together. On some level, she hated going over this. It didn''t matter, no more than her ability to read did. She found herself annoyed. ¡°I''ve never met a Hatharen in my life.¡±

    ¡°Your, um, you have Hatharen ears. Or at least, you have ears that look like the ears Hatharen have in the pictures. I haven''t met one myself, either.¡± He continued as he walked. In one hand he held a staff nearly as long as he was tall. He said it was a walking stick, but he made sure to never touch it against the ground.

    ¡°My mother told me that my father was a Hatharen. I never met him, so he might have been one. Might have also been an animal, for all I know.¡± Ferene snapped, finding hands curling into fists. She remembered her mother''s face, and it didn''t help her mood. She needed revenge, not conversation.

    ¡°Well then.¡± Tullund said, mostly to himself, and went quiet. They walked in silence. This was the second day of walking, the second day of dull gray skies, overcast but luckily not wet. The second day of plodding slowly down the side of the dirt road, out of the way of passing wagons. The plan was to follow the road for five days, then cut directly towards the camp in the last two, and wait several hours from it. Ferene was not looking forward to more of this conversation, but Tullund stayed quiet for hours, until he finally spoke again.

    ¡°Do you think you''re like a mule?¡± Ferene stopped, turning to look at him. He wasn''t looking at her, instead staring off to the side. He walked a few paces past her before stopping, turning back to look at her. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Bandits killed your wife.¡± Ferene stared into his eyes. Tullund nodded. ¡°Bandits killed your wife and we are going to kill them, and you''re thinking about mules.¡±

    Closing his eyes, Tullund took a deep breath. ¡°I''m a farmer. My wife and I had a farm. Bandits came and killed the animals, burned the fields, and killed my wife. Yes, I want revenge, but I still think like a farmer. I miss being a farmer. I want to still be a farmer. I want to still have a wife. But I can''t be a farmer, and I can''t have my wife back. I can kill the people who killed her, and I can think about mules. That''ll have to be close.¡± He smiled at her. His eyes didn''t smile. Ferene nodded, and turned back to the road.

    He was just making conversation. She had to deal with it. They shared a goal. ¡°Isn''t a mule just a kind of horse?¡± She eventually asked.

    ¡°It''s a hybrid. Between a male donkey and a female horse. There''s also the other way around, which makes a different animal. Mules are nice because they''re big like horses, but act more like donkeys. You''re probably a lot different than a Hatharen, when I think about it like that.¡±

    ¡°I''ve never met a Hatharen.¡± Ferene had, however, met both donkeys and horses, and did not find either kind of animal very appealing. She didn''t like being compared to them, but she figured he was comparing himself to at least one of them, if she followed his thought process.

    ¡°Hm.¡± He fell into silence again, and Ferene felt relieved. She didn''t like that conversation. She didn''t like thinking about her father, or her mother. Or her past at all. The only thing she needed to think about was revenge. She didn''t know if she was like a Hatharen or not, but she knew she had yet to meet a human she was similar to.

    ¡°So that''s it?¡± Ferene asked, looking at the collection of houses in the valley. It looked like a farm, but there were no animals and no crops. Just six houses around a well. Ferene frowned. She knew to expect something like this, but she didn''t like it now that she actually saw it.

    ¡°That''s the hideout. Farmer houses, once. Bandit houses now.¡± Tullund answered from beside her. The two of them crouched under a tree, a day''s walk off the road. With the tree covering them, they stared down a gently sloping hill, across the remains of several wooden fences. ¡°We wait for some of them to leave, then move in at night on the ones that stay. I can take out anyone keeping watch from a distance.¡± Tullund held a bow in one hand ¨C his ''walking stick'' from earlier, when properly bent, could be strung as a very large bow.

    ¡°You shoot the watch, then I run in. I can kill anyone except the leader.¡± Ferene nodded.

    ¡°You''re really just going to...run in and kill them in their sleep?¡±

    ¡°Is that a problem? They killed your wife.¡±

    ¡°No. No it''s not.¡±

    ¡°So we wait, and then we kill them.¡± Ferene turned to look at him. His jaw was clenched, and he glared at the hideout in the distance.

    ¡°We wait, and we kill them.¡± Tullund repeated, holding his bow.

    Taking a deep breath, Ferene placed her sword down in front of her. Then she unhooked her belt, taking her second, shorter sword and placing it below the first. Reaching into her boot, she pulled out a knife, and placed it below the short sword.

    ¡°Only three?¡± Tullund asked.

    ¡°The first is all I should need. If I use the second, something has gone very, very wrong. The third is for a situation where I don''t need a sword to begin with.¡± She inhaled, then slowly breathed out. ¡°I''m going to kill a lot of people tonight.¡± She said, staring at her weapons.

    Her sword was scratched, the flat of it marred and scraped. She tried to imagine it clean, flawless, polished enough to shine. The image felt wrong. Her sword delivered death, nothing else. A tool for slaughter. Ferene clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth together. Tullund''s talk on the road hung over her. What were Hatharen really like? Some people talked about them like they were somehow better than humans. Did they prey upon each other in the same way? Steal from each other, kill each other? Had her father abandoned her mother, or was it that idiot woman who ran away on her own and sold herself to bandits?

    Ferene felt the hate. The anger. Her past never failed to make her mad. She focused on that, pushing the questions from her thoughts. She didn''t know the answers to those questions, but she knew how to kill people. She shoved the knife back in her boot, and hooked the short sword back on her belt. Her long sword lay on the ground in front of her. This was her life. Why should something used for such a purpose need to shine brightly? Why should someone with such a purpose need to think about questions that they couldn''t answer? Ferene stopped herself from laughing, but she felt it. She smiled, wrapping her hand around the hilt of her sword as she lifted it off the ground. The weight of it was a familiar feeling. This was all she needed. No questions, no answers.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°You''re different than I thought.¡±

    Tullund''s voice cut through her thoughts, and she turned to look at him again, her smile vanishing. ¡°Different than what?¡±

    ¡°I heard some stories about you, from the locals. I thought you''d be more...vindictive. Hearing you say they are people is surprising. I imagined that you''d look down on them as less than human. Most people do.¡±

    ¡°There''s only three kinds of people. Killers, victims, and those who are still figuring out which they are. I''m not going to let myself be a victim, so I have to be a killer.¡±

    ¡°If that''s how you think of it, what makes you any different than the people down there?¡±

    ¡°The people down there kill victims. I don''t.¡±

    Tullund fell silent, turning his gaze back towards the valley. Standing up, Ferene paced back and forth, agitated. Tullund was annoying, but waiting like this was far worse. Her earlier trip, stuck inside the wagon, hadn''t annoyed her to the same degree. She could feel the movement, know that things were happening. Now she waited, watching, listening to Tullund talk. She wanted to run, to kill. Her grip around her sword tightened again. ¡°How long until we can start?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Even if they don''t want to try for another robbery, some of them should go out to buy things at some point or another. These aren''t the kind of people who enjoy sitting around.¡±

    Houses. Houses for regular people. Peaceful farmers once lived here, Ferene reminded herself as she pushed the first door open. The locks were broken ¨C these highwaymen didn''t repair things, not like this. They didn''t care. If anyone tried to steal from them, they''d just kill them. They didn''t trust each other, but they feared each other. If someone stole from you, you stole right back. Security from each other wasn''t needed.

    Security from the outside, though, was another matter. One of the crew of thieves already lay dead, an arrow buried in his chest. Tullund followed Ferene into the building, bow in one hand. She didn''t need him here any more.

    The house showed signs of neglect. People who live by taking things from others don''t care for their belongings, as they could just get more. The furniture was worn, placed haphazardly about the main room of the farmhouse. She walked across the main room, stepping over empty bottles and cups, bones from long eaten meals. It reminded her of a cave.

    Sound travels in a cave. Forcing your way past a door would let others know. Here, things were isolated. Two men slept in the same bed. Friends? Lovers? Ferene held her knife in her hand. Murderers. Scum. She slit the throat of the first, then the second. They died together. She walked out of the room.

    Another bedroom in the same house. Two beds. One person each. Two more dead. Tullund killed one as Ferene killed the other. Five dead. The two of them left the house, walking to the next.

    The scene was the same. Neglect. Decay. Ferene could image this place, the fireplace lit, the chairs and their cushions not stained, the shelves filled with neatly organized trinkets instead of cluttered with stolen goods. This was an infestation. A bedroom without a bed, just a collection of pillows and blankets on the floor. Three more throats cut. The smell filled Ferene''s mouth as she left.

    She stopped outside the third house, Tullund''s hand on her shoulder. She could hear sounds inside. She adjusted her grip on her shortsword as she placed a hand on the door. They all died, that was the promise.

    The man inside the house turned to look at her as she pushed open the door. He did not react in time to stop her from stabbing him. She pushed his body away and quickly strode across the room, opening the door to a bedroom. A woman, half dressed, lunged at her. Ferene blocked the attack, grabbing her outstretched wrist with one hand as she drove her sword into her attacker''s stomach. Two more dead. The house fell silent.

    Tullund stopped her outside the fourth house. ¡°The leader is in here. Don''t kill her.¡±

    ¡°Is she alone?¡±

    ¡°There''s one more of them unaccounted for.¡±

    ¡°You''ll have to tell me which not to kill.¡± She said, and pushed at the door. It didn''t move. Ferene threw her full weight into it, the lock breaking off the frame. Someone inside shouted. Ferene held her sword in both hands, looking around. The same neglect showed here. The shelves were empty, the table was stacked with dishes. A door opened and a man stepped out, naked, holding an axe in his hand.

    ¡°Shit, is that Tullund?¡± He said, smiling. ¡°You''re makin'' a racket.¡±

    Ferene ran at him, lunging forward, aiming her sword for his chest. He swung his axe at her, and she ducked to the side, barely avoiding the attack. The man towered over her, grinning downward as he stepped towards her, raising his axe for another strike. She retreated, stumbling backwards over discarded trash as she avoided the attack. Her foot touched a wall behind her and the man laughed, holding his weapon in one hand, then raising the other towards her. She didn''t let him finish the motion, lunging forward, her sword swiping at his arm, axe falling to the floor in a spray of blood. He yelled, for a moment, before she swept her sword across his chest.

    Tullund walked into the house, stepping over the man''s body as he lay on the floor. Ferene slit his throat, putting an end to his twitching as she followed Tullund to the open door to the other room.

    ¡°She got away.¡± He said, pointing towards an open window above the bed. ¡°Wait!¡± Ferene threw herself out the window, head-first, clutching her sword. She hit the ground, rolled to her feet, and looked around, finding the trail in the moonlight. The feeling inside of her changed. She was no longer an executioner, but a hunter. She ran, as fast as she could. Her quarry was frightened, recently roused from sleep. The footprints were uneven. It didn''t take Ferene long to catch up to the woman ¨C her pace, frantic at first, had slowed. Ferene caught up to her as she was jogging raggedly, pushing off of trees in the old orchard.

    Slowing down, Ferene stalked her, sword in one hand, waiting. It would be easy, with a burst of speed, to simply impale the woman from behind. That wasn''t what a hunter would do, and Ferene took the role of the hunter. This was no longer a person, but an animal. She listened to the beast''s ragged breathing, ignoring the curses as it tried to run away, its path twisting, weaving through the trees. After a sharp turn, it stopped. Ferene slowed, her run turning into a slow, creeping walk, seconds between each footfall. She approached the tree, her sword held upright, her legs tense, waiting for the animal to bolt.

    Not a bolt, but an attack. The beast struck out at her, a short sword in one hand, sweeping towards her chest. The illusion fell away as Ferene blocked the strike, the sound of metal against metal reminding her of the dangers of a human. The woman in front of her twisted with the redirected force, her sword turning away, swinging her other arm up towards Ferene''s face. She barely managed to pull her face back in time, feeling the sting of metal across her cheek.

    The bandit leader advanced on her, turning again, carrying and redirecting her momentum into another desperate attack. Calmly, Ferene stepped back, blocking the first strike as she moved to a one handed grip on her sword. Stepping forward, she interrupted the woman''s second swing with a punch to the face.

    Shocked, she stumbled backwards, dropping her dagger as she brought her left hand up to her jaw. Ferene advanced, still holding her sword in one hand, raising the other to strike again. The woman turned, starting to run again, but Ferene surged forward, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder. Her feet slid out from under her as Ferene pulled back, and she quickly found herself face-up on the ground, gasping for air.

    Ferene sat on the ground, shortsword across her lap, holding a blood-stained rag in one hand. She examined the weapon, making sure she had properly cleaned away all the gore of the night''s activities. Her gauntlets and armor lay spread on the ground in front of her, waiting for their turn.

    ¡°You gonna sit there the rest of the night, are ya?¡±

    Larren hung over the empty well. Her hands were tied together with rope, which Tullund had looped over the top of the well frame. Her legs were also bound. Apparently the woman had left captives tied up like this, fearing that they''d be dropped into the shaft, until they agreed to join her. Tullund wanted to leave her there until morning before killing her. Some form of justice.

    ¡°I am.¡± Ferene sheathed her shortsword and looked up at Larren. The light from the moon and stars didn''t do much to illuminate her face from this distance, but Ferene could see the dried blood of the other outlaw on the woman''s face. She watched as the woman licked her lips, then spat, having tasted it.

    ¡°Look,¡± She started, frowning. ¡°I don''t want to die here. I can help ya out, ya know? There''s coin hidden, and only I know where it is. If you let me down I can show ya. Lot of coin. Girl like you could move on from mercenary work.¡±

    ¡°I''m not a mercenary.¡± Ferene replied, tying the shortsword to her waist. ¡°Don''t care about money.¡± She stood up, stretching her legs, and walked in a circle around the well.

    ¡°M-maybe some information, then.¡± Larren said, trying to turn her head to keep Ferene in her view. ¡°Tullund, ya? Good lookin guy, ya? I can tell ya all about him. All the things he likes. The ways ya could make him feel good.¡±

    ¡°Don''t care about that.¡± Ferene said, coming to a stop on the opposite side of the well, behind Larren. The woman squirmed, trying to spin around to face her. ¡°Just wanted to kill bandits. Killed a lot of them tonight. You''ll be dead in the morning.¡±

    Larren stopped struggling, slowly spinning back and forth for a time in silence. Ferene looked at her, then up at the sky. Without the torches and lanterns of the city, the light of the moon and the stars felt so much brighter. This could have been a peaceful place, but now it stank of blood.

    ¡°Hate thieves, huh?¡± Larren asked after some time, drawing Ferene''s attention again. ¡°Ya gonna kill Tullund after he kills me? He was one of us. Killed plenty. Robbed plenty. Wives and children. He''s jus guilty as anyone else ya killed tonight.¡±

    Walking back around the well, Ferene looked Larren in the eyes. ¡°Shut up. I agreed to let him kill you but I didn''t agree to listen to you talk at me.¡±

    The woman smiled. ¡°He lied to ya, didn''t he? Didn''t tell ya about what he used to be? He didn''t turn clean out of the goodness of his heart, he just wanted the girl. He had her, too, till we figured out he wasn''t dead in some ditch but instead playing farmer. Would ya have helped him out if ya knew the full story?¡±

    Ferene sat down on the dirt again, laying back and staring up at the stars. She took a deep breath, instantly regretting it. Everything smelled like blood now. She wondered if she should try to burn the hamlet down, though she didn''t know how.

    ¡°People like him don''t jus turn into good little farmers. Ya kill and steal and ya like it. Ya can''t go an live like a goodie after years of it. Ya can''t pay a loafa bread for ten pennies when you could just stab the lad and take the whole cart.¡± Ferene stood up again, turning to Larren, her eyes locked on the woman''s. The former leader''s lips curled upwards. ¡°That get to ya? Ya gonna have to kill Tullund, just like ya killed the rest. Ya think about that? Ya like thinkin about that? Turnin on him? Makes ya seem almost as bad yaself, don''t it?¡±

    Ferene stormed up to the edge of the well, glaring up at the smaller woman as she hung over the open hole. ¡°You don''t know anything about me,¡± She said, fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her skin. ¡°You think I''m someone with honor? I just killed a dozen people in their sleep. You think you''re the monster here, the killer? I know ¨C know ¨C I''ve killed more people than you have, and a lot of them weren''t people like you. I was born in a place like this, surrounded by thieves and murderers. My mother sold herself to them. Sold me to them. I was raised by people worse than you. I was taught to fight, to steal, to kill. When I was old enough to lift a sword I was old enough to use it to kill a man. I hated them all, and when I had the chance I killed the leader and left the rest of them to fight over his place. Like a coward I ran, leaving the people who beat my mother and left her to die in her bed. I left them alive. I told myself that I''m not going to do that ever again. When I see a person who lives their life by taking from others, from hurting people who are harmless, I''m not going to leave them alive. I don''t care what Tullund used to be. I know what he is now. If I hadn''t agreed to let him kill you I''d slit your throat right now, just like all your followers. Save what little words you have left to beg him for your life when he wakes up because nothing you say to me will make me take any pity on you.¡±

    When she couldn''t say anything else, Ferene spun around, walking back to her gear. She had never spoken that much to anyone in years. Her face felt hot, her hands shook. Working with Tullund, not killing Larren, all of it felt wrong. Waiting here, for whatever reason, only served to make her more and more angry. She picked up her rag again, grabbing one of her gauntlets, and started rubbing at the blood, her jaw clenched.

    A hand on her shoulder interrupted her work. ¡°I''m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Why are you sorry?¡± She asked, turning to look up at Tullund.

    ¡°It''s too hard to sleep. Everything you said, I didn''t know about that.¡±

    Letting out a breath, Ferene picked up her other gauntlet. ¡°Kill her and you''ll be the only person that does know.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to kill me to keep the secret?¡±

    ¡°Don''t care.¡± She said, wiping the cloth over the metal. There wasn''t even anything to clean. He nodded, and let go of her. She looked over her shoulder as he walked up to the well.

    ¡°Sun is up, Larren. Time to die.¡±

    ¡°Hope the Hatharen stabs you.¡±

    ¡°She might.¡± He said, lifting a knife and cutting the rope tying her to the frame of the well. She screamed as she fell.

    Tullund stood there after the sound faded, staring down into the hole, perfectly still, as if waiting for something. Ferene tossed the rag to the ground and gathered the pieces of her armor. She didn''t feel like wearing it. ¡°If you''re done, let''s get out of here. Away from the smell.¡± She called out, slinging her sword over her back.

    ¡°What are you going to do now?¡±

    For most of the day, Tullund remained silent. Now, as they sat in a clearing to the side of the road, he returned to asking questions. ¡°Find someone else to kill.¡± She answered.

    He stood up from the well-worn stump he had been sitting on, stepping towards her. ¡°Why?¡± He asked, kneeling, staring at her. ¡°You don''t have to keep killing.¡±

    ¡°I told you that I''m a killer.¡±

    ¡°The people you killed, I used to be like them. A killer, and not one like you. I killed helpless people. People who couldn''t fight back. You didn''t kill me. Why?¡±

    ¡°If you had been less driven, I would have. If you had hesitated to drop her down the well, I would have killed you on the spot.¡±

    ¡°But you didn''t. Why?¡±

    ¡°You decided to stop being what you were.¡±

    ¡°And you can''t do that? I changed because I found someone who helped me change. Someone that changed me. You don''t think you can change, but maybe I can help you. I''m going to find a farm that is looking for help. You can come with me. I''ll teach you what you need to know. You can start over, like I did.¡±

    ¡°I''m not a replacement for your dead wife.¡±

    He looked away from her, and slowly stood up, walking back to sit on his stump. He stared at the dirt. Ferene frowned, clenching her jaw.

    ¡°I want to do this. I have to do this. I''m not lost and searching for answers ¨C this is my answer. You found a way to change from a thug into a farmer. I found a way to change from a bandit into...whatever you call this. A bandit killer. I don''t need to change into anything else.¡±

    ¡°Do you really believe that what you were doing back there is all you''re going to do? Can''t there be something more for you?¡±

    He met her eyes, from across the campsite, and this time she looked away. ¡°No.¡± She didn''t feel that word the way she felt the others, but it was the only answer she had to give. She didn''t want to be a farmer. She stood up. ¡°We''re parting ways here. Good luck, Tullund.¡± Grabbing the pieces of her armor, and her sword, she walked towards the road, back the way they had come.

    Ferene stared down into the well. She couldn''t see the bottom in the moonlight. The hamlet no longer smelled of blood, but Ferene was sure she caught a hint of it when the wind shifted. Somewhere in that hole was whatever was left of the woman.

    Ferene closed her eyes. It could be her body at the bottom of the well. She could have been the leader of a gang, living by taking from others. She could have been hunted down in the night, dragged back here, and hung up to think about her choices before her death. Or would she have won when she tried to fight back, and lived to continue her evil ways? Somewhere in the world, there was someone stronger than her, and if she gave that person a reason to kill her, she would end up dead.

    People like the woman in the well deserved to die, so Ferene and Tullund killed her. Ferene herself deserved to die, and eventually, she would. Tullund deserved to die, and eventually, he would. But Ferene hadn''t killed Tullund, and she wasn''t going to kill herself.

    Of all the questions Tullund asked her, only the last one stuck with her. She didn''t know the answer. Would she eventually kill enough to satisfy herself? Was there an end to revenge? If there was, what would she do then? Could she leave everything and become a farmer, as Tullund had?

    Turning away from the well, she sat down on the dirt, looking up at the stars. What would it be like, to live with a roof over her head every night? Would the sounds of wind against wooden walls become comforting to her? She found herself asking the questions now, yet there were still no answers.

    In the moment, the sound of grass and leaves rustling in the wind was her life. She put on her armor ¨C this was who she was. The questions could wait. The weight of her armor on her body, her sword in her hand ¨C that was who she was.

    Footsteps in the night. The group that had left before the slaughter were back. Ferene took a deep breath, holding her sword in both hands. Her job here wasn''t finished.

 Chapter 2: Followers of the Wrong Path

    Soldiers.

    Ferene sat back in her chair, glad to be out of the center of the room. The tavern at the crossroads had been built expecting more visitors than it got. The main room was mostly empty, several long tables in the center of the room, dwarfed by the size of it. Ferene''s small table, pushed against the wall, gave her a good view of the room as she ate, watching people come and go. Some of the transient patrons rented rooms, but most would save money by sleeping in their wagons outside.

    Her plate was empty now, and she watched as eight soldiers walked in and took over the largest table. They carried spears, wore chainmail under maroon red, unbuttoned jackets and metal helmets on their heads.

    Ferene had seen plenty of city guards before, but this group was different. The way they wore their armor, the way they sat down, several of them looking around the room. One of them removed his helmet, placing it on the table, revealing short-cut brown hair. They laughed and yelled at the serving lady to bring them food.

    Soldiers didn''t belong here.

    The independent lands, as it was called, was a vast plain dotted with city-states, crisscrossed with roads bordered by farmsteads. There were no soldiers here, just city guards, sometimes a militia. It was bandit country, the spaces between the cities open for anyone to do whatever they liked. No kings making rulings, no soldiers marching out to stop criminals that pillaged the lands, since nobody owned the lands outside of the cities. Farmers paid for protection to groups just as lawless as the thieves they offered protection from.

    Kingdoms existed to the east, to the west, and to the south. The emptiness to the north held nothing. The eastern kingdoms were closest. Perhaps the soldiers were from there. Ferene watched them as they ate and drank, showing off money as they paid. Confidence. She waited, watching them.

    An old man entered, eventually, and walked up to the group. All of their talking stopped as they turned to look at him. The man stared back. Silence filled the room as the few people left at the other tables quieted.

    ¡°Problem, old man?¡± One of the soldiers asked.

    ¡°The whole lot of you are a disgrace.¡± The soldiers laughed as the man stood there, arms crossed.

    ¡°You want to do something about it?¡±

    ¡°I''m not going to give you an excuse to hit me. Not in this town. You have to behave here, but I know what you do outside. Stealing, bullying, beating up anyone who tries to fight back. The king''s men, acting like that. Shameful. Completely shameful.¡±

    ¡°Hey Lebb, did he say anything that sounded odd to you?¡± The man who took his helmet off said, looking to one of his comrades.

    ¡°He said a few things that sounded odd to me. Which one in particular were you talking about? The part where he said we''re the king''s men?¡±

    ¡°Well, that part was odd, since the King sent a whole bunch of his men away. But I was more thinkin about the part where he thinks we have to behave since we''re in this shithole of a town. They''ve got what, ten guys as the town watch? Half of ''em older ''n this guy, the other half too young to know how to fight.¡± He laughed, and the others followed. The old man suddenly looked nervous. The people at the other tables looked away.

    ¡°You''re right about that, Cap''n. This guy comes up, callin'' us names and all, I think maybe we could hit ''im a few times, show ''im what''s what about what. Can''t ''ave any old geezer talkin'' ''bout fine free citizens like ourselves that way, can we?¡±

    ¡°You''re right, Lebb. Why don''t you knock some manners into him?¡±

    The one called Lebb stood up, and the old man took a step back. Lebb lurched forward, grabbing the man by the shoulder as he turned to flee. Smiling, he punched the man in the gut, folding him over.

    Ferene slammed into Lebb, lowering herself and sending him tumbling with her shoulder. She turned, holding her sword in one hand, facing the group at the table as she pushed the old man towards the door with her other hand. Two of the soldiers stood up, picking up their spears. The captain remained seated, taking a pull from his drink.

    The spacious tavern and sparse, spread out tables left plenty of room for movement. The two standing soldiers moved to surround Ferene. She ran at one, swinging her sword down, attempting to take him out of the fight before she was surrounded. He parried her first strike with his spear, then blocked the second, trying to stall for time. Her third swing cut his spear in half.

    His eyes went wide, and he stumbled backwards. Ferene pursued him, swinging again. He tried to stop her attack with half of his weapon, but her attack took him in the side, her sword biting through his armor. Putting her leg on his chest, she pushed him down, pulling her weapon free. As he lay bleeding on the floor, the other patrons started to flee, the reality of the situation finally settling in. Ferene turned to the other soldier.

    He attacked, stabbing at her with his spear. She batted the hit away, but he thrust again, and again. She found herself driven backwards, stepping over the body of the man she had already cut as he writhed on the floor, smearing his blood over the floorboards. The other soldiers stood up, grabbing their weapons, but didn''t advance on her.

    Ferene parried again, then spun forward, making an attack of her own, thrusting her sword forward. He pushed the attack to the side, but Ferene continued forward. He attempted to trip her as she moved past him, but she hopped over the butt of his spear, spinning around and attacking again, taking the center of the room for herself and pinning him against the wall. She didn''t let up her attack, striking over and over again, knocking his weapon from his hands before stabbing straight through his armor, the tip of her sword snapping one of the ringlets as she rammed it into his stomach.

    Turning to face the group at the table, Ferene paused. Several of them were pushing the table back, making a space. The rest of them stood, facing her, the captain in the middle, smiling at her. Lebb was beside him, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at her.

    Running, full speed, Ferene swung at the captain. He brought his spear around, tapping her sword to the side. She almost ended up hitting Lebb, who stepped back, then swung his own spear up at her, slamming the butt into her side. Twirling backwards, out of their range, Ferene paused, holding her weapon upwards. The strike hurt, but he could have stabbed her. She watched as the six of them started to spread out, moving to surround her. They were already between her and the door. Retreat wasn''t an option. She feinted towards one of the ones moving to surround her, and he immediately brought up his weapon, ready to defend himself. Re-centering, Ferene glanced towards the others. They were grinning. She wasn''t going to defeat one before the others attacked her.

    ¡°Want to give up?¡± The captain asked, seeing her hesitate. ¡°Might be able to fight again, if you live, rather than ending up dead on the floor.¡±

    She lunged forward again, swinging her sword at him in a wide horizontal arc. He pushed the attack upwards, and she stepped into the space created, holding her sword with one hand as she shoved her shoulder into him. Pushing him aside, she tried to run for the door, but was caught as someone swept her legs out from under her, dropping her to the ground. Immediately, a blow landed on her wrist, her gauntlet shaking under the force, causing her to drop her sword.

    Ferene kicked out, once, trying to bring someone down, but after taking a blow to the stomach, she curled into a ball, trying just to protect herself as they swung repeatedly at her with the blunt ends of their spears.

    Pain.

    Pain.

    In the end, was it all hopeless? She couldn''t fight them. She didn''t know how many outlaws she had killed, but a single group of trained soldiers, working together, was too much for her. Was she anything more than a girl with a sword? She had survived and won not with skill, but with speed, brutality, and intimidation, fueled by anger.

    The blows stopped. She lay still, curled up, her arms, legs, and back hurting. It all hurt. Someone tied her wrists together, and dragged her along the ground. More pain. Voices, talking. She couldn''t hear over the pain. She needed to kill them, but she couldn''t.

    Someone pulled her to her knees, and ripped off her armor, then her boots, then her shirt, slicing her sleeves from behind. She opened her eyes. She was in the center of town, the soldier captain sitting on a wooden box in front of her, Lebb standing behind him, glaring at her. The others stood a bit back, and behind them, peering out from doorways, were the townsfolk. There might be a few travelers behind her, but she couldn''t see them.

    ¡°You killed two of my men.¡±

    Ferene stayed silent, staring at him, shivering in the cold air. To her left, the sun was setting, making the small, dirty town red. A few houses, centered around the tavern, situated on a major road. She figured this was where she was going to die.

    ¡°I say my men, but they were really Lebb''s friends. He and those two joined up with the rest of us recently. He''s more upset about it than I am. I like good fighters, I can respect you for trying. He''s mad you killed his pals.¡±

    As she attempted to push herself to her feet, the man behind her shoved her back to her knees. The captain ignored this, and kept talking.

    ¡°I know a person who is interested in buying people. Figure someone like you might be worth a bit to him. So we were going to take you there. Thing is, Lebb thinks you haven''t been punished enough for what you did. Thinks we should let him do whatever he wants with you for a night. Can''t say I''m too fond of treating prisoners badly, but, none of us are the soldiers we used to be.¡±

    Lebb was still glaring at her, so she turned and glared up at him. Her attention made him smile. She wanted to kill all of them, but she wanted to kill him more.

    ¡°So here''s what I figure. I let you and him fight it out ¨C hand to hand, no weapons. Just wrestling. If you can make him yield, we''ll keep him away from you. If you can''t, we tie you back up and leave you together for the night. You try to run, we kill you. I figure that''s all fair. He gets a chance at revenge, you get a chance to defend yourself. Rest of us get some entertainment. You want a fair fight?¡±

    Ferene kept her gaze on Lebb for a moment, then looked back to the captain. ¡°He just has to say he yields?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, just that.¡±

    ¡°I''ll do it.¡±

    Lebb smiled. The captain smiled. The other soldiers immediately started talking. The one behind her pulled her to her feet, and she felt the ropes drop off her wrists. She stood up, bare feet on the dirt, wearing only her leggings and a chest wrap. Lebb took off his shirt and stepped forward, falling into a fighting stance, legs wide, arms out, hands open. Looking around, Ferene saw the man behind her dragging his foot along the ground, making a circle in the dirt around them. It wasn''t much space, but it was enough.

    ¡°Go ahead then, get on with it.¡± The captain said, and clapped his hands once.

    Ferene took a step to the side, and watched as Lebb stepped the other way, circling her. He was shorter than her, giving her the advantage in reach. Stepping forward, she threw an experimental punch. He ducked under it, stepping in, grabbing her shoulders, shoving her down and backwards. Her feet slid on the dirt for a moment, then she toppled backwards, barely managing to land on her rear. Lebb didn''t push his advantage, instead stepping back, smiling, waiting. To him, this was just sport, entertainment, the kind she''d seen in larger cities. Fake fighting, sometimes someone might get injured but nobody was truly trying to hurt each other.

    Since she was a child, Ferene always fought to survive. Losing meant less food at best, and death at worst. Every single fight was serious, and completely real.

    Also, this was a perfect opportunity to kill another one of these soldiers.

    She dashed forward, ducking under his hands as he attempted to grab her, and hit the ground. She kicked out, driving her foot into his knee. He took the hit, his leg sliding back, putting his weight on the other leg. She kicked at his ankle, and he dropped to the ground next to her. As he grabbed her arm, she drove her hand into his neck. He gasped for air, letting go of her. She tried to hit him again, but he pushed her away. Both of them scrambled to their feet.

    One hand on his chest, Lebb breathed loudly, slowly, staring at her in shock. Ferene rushed him again, knocking him to the ground as he was still recovering. She knelt on top of him, raised both her hands up. He opened his mouth, starting to form words, and she brought both her hands to the side of his head. Whatever he was going to say turned into a wordless noise as she dislocated his jaw. He kept making those noises as she wrapped her hands around his neck, strangling him. Lebb kicked, tried to bring his hands up, tried to push her off, but she slammed his head against the ground once, then again, pressing her thumbs into his throat. The man clawed at her, then at the dirt, squirming, his eyes wide, his mouth open, but unable to speak.

    Some of the other men stood up, but the captain raised his hand, waving them back. They all watched, some grinning, some horrified, some just frowning, as she killed Lebb.

    When he stopped moving, she stood up, turning to look at the captain. Panting, covered in dirt, half naked, she smiled at him. He nodded to her, then waved a hand. One of the other soldiers stepped forward, cautiously, holding a rope.

    ¡°I can promise you that none of us will be hurting you, but we''re going to have to tie you back up. Looks like you might try to kill the rest of us, and I can''t have that. These are all members of my squad, and I''m responsible for their safety.¡±

    She looked at the man on the ground, holding out her hands to the man with the rope.

    ¡°Oh, don''t worry about Lebb. Him and the other two, we didn''t really like them. Not trained the same. New recruits that followed us. No sense.¡±

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    ¡°You''re all just thugs.¡±

    He laughed as the man tied her arms together, then her feet, then pushed her over. She fell to the ground beside the body. Three of the eight was a good number, especially if they weren''t going to kill her. She''d find a way to kill the others. She thought, before, that it was over, but she had been given another chance. They all deserved to die, and she would kill them. Ferene just needed to figure out how.

    The first night, she sat on the floor in one of the rooms of the tavern, her arms tied over her head, her ankles tied together. The captain threw a blanket over her and slept in the bed. If she could free herself, it would be easy to kill him, take his knife, and then go hunt the others. The ropes did not loosen no matter how much she struggled, and the pain got worse. Everything hurt, and she found she couldn''t even sleep in the uncomfortable position.

    The first day, they gave her Lebb''s shirt and jacket. His chainmail, helmet, and other belongings they threw in a wide, wheeled wagon. The bed was divided into two sections, one with all of their spare weapons and gear, and the other with various sacks and boxes, and finally Ferene herself. Reduced to luggage, her arms and legs still tied, she lay on her side, the wooden planks under her, her forehead pressed against a crate. They had two donkeys, which pulled the wagon as most of them walked. If she rolled halfway over, she could see the captain on his horse, riding alongside them. Lebb''s shirt was too short for her, leaving a gap at her waist, but the jacket covered that. At the very least, she wasn''t cold. Eventually, she found herself falling asleep.

    Ferene woke up laying on the ground, a sharp pain in her side. Possibly better than the dull pain she had been feeling, and the soreness of sleeping on the hard wood. One of them had dumped her out of the back of the wagon, onto the dirt. Looking around, she saw the captain leaning against a fence, holding his horse''s reins. They had apparently come to a rest at a farmstead. Struggling to her knees, she turned towards the house, watching as two of the men approached.

    ¡°Are you robbing these people?¡±

    ¡°Ah, so you can talk. You''ve been silent for so long I thought you had forgotten.¡± The captain smiled at her. ¡°We aren''t robbing these people. We are simply asking them for what they owe the local government. Taxes, protection money, whatever. We tell them it''s time to pay, and stand there looking intimidating and official, and they hand it over. If you have well cared for armor, uniform, and a weapon ¨C you know, basically the opposite of your outfit ¨C and people tend to do what you say. Gives you an air of authority.¡±

    Instead of replying, Ferene rolled over, getting her knees under her and pushing herself upright so she could sit on her ankles. The captain watched her, still smiling. ¡°Would you like to answer some questions for me? If you''re in the mood to talk, that is. I was wondering about that sword of yours. Where did you get it?¡±

    Continuing to ignore him, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and did her best to stretch. Flexing one shoulder, then the other, and rubbing her hands along the backs of her legs. Everything hurt, and it was not getting better. The captain watched her for a moment, then sighed, mounting his horse again and riding towards the house.

    Ferene waited, taking the time to try to ease her soreness as the two men returned, meeting the captain and tossing him a sack, which he placed on the wagon. At his signal, Ferene found herself picked up and placed back on top of the wagon.

    That night, she was tied to a tree. The five men made camp off to the side of the road, pulling dried meats out of the sack. The captain stared at her, apparently considering, before shoving a piece at her face.

    ¡°Eat.¡±

    She glared at him.

    With his other hand, he held up a canteen. ¡°You haven''t eaten or drank anything all day. A human would be begging for water right now, if they were capable of speaking at all. You aren''t human, but you must have limits. Do what you need to survive.¡±

    It was easy to focus just on her pain and soreness and ignore the rest, but her mouth was dry and her stomach was empty. Jerking against the ropes, she pulled herself upwards slightly. ¡°Hands.¡±

    He laughed at her. ¡°I saw you kill a man with those hands. You''re a wild animal, and I''m going to keep you restrained like one. You''re going to have to be fed, and if you bite me I''m going to remove your teeth. Now, drink.¡± He opened the canteen, holding it in front of her at an angle.

    There was nothing more she wanted to do than to kill him. Ferene leaned forward, sticking her head out, tilted back, and opening her mouth. He poured water down her throat. She swallowed, and opened her mouth again. The man was smiling at her as he did this, and she could hear laughter from the others. With how good the water tasted, she didn''t care. Already, she wanted to kill them, embarrassing her like this didn''t change that. After her third mouthful of water, he stopped, and held out the dried meat again. She bit down on it, pulling it into her mouth and chewing.

    ¡°Seeing that you are an animal, my men and I have been discussing what we should name you, for the short time you''ll be with us. They aren''t very creative. Filth is the most popular, followed by Maddy.¡±

    Swallowing, Ferene leaned back against the tree, her eyes falling to the ground. She wasn''t tired, after having slept in the wagon, and probably wouldn''t be able to sleep with her arms tied above her head again. At least she was less thirsty now.

    ¡°So. Filth, or Maddy? Or do you have another idea?¡±

    With food and water, she needed to think of a way to escape. Tomorrow might be a good time for it, depending on if they relaxed around her or not. She could have, potentially, been more talkative, but talking was difficult even when she didn''t want to kill the people around her. She had to keep thinking, though. The moment in the town when she had thought it was all over haunted her.

    ¡°Stinky.¡± The captain said again, watching her. ¡°How about we call you Stinky?¡±

    ¡°Ferene.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°My name is Ferene. I''m going to kill all of you.¡±

    He laughed at her. ¡°Filth was close, then! We''ll go with that.¡±

    Once more, Ferene glared at him, and he walked back to the others. At least she had been fed.

    The second day, she was no longer allowed to ride on the wagon. After untying her feet, they took that end of the rope and tied it to one of the posts on the wagon, and slapped the donkeys. Ferene found herself walking behind it, her hands in the air in front of her. On one hand, it meant she had a chance to stretch her legs. On the other, she had not gotten any sleep while tied to the tree, and planned to sleep on top of the uncomfortable wagon. As the day wore on, she found herself struggling against exhaustion.

    Eventually, her mind broke through the haze and started working. She slowed, letting herself be pulled forward, stumbling. She trotted for a bit, getting as close to the wagon as possible, then slowed again, the rope quickly going taut and pulling her forward again. Ferene made an even bigger show of stumbling forward, letting her feet drag for a bit. None of the men cared, and she almost lost a boot in the act before she scrambled to her feet again, hopping on one foot to stomp the boot back into place.

    Her hope had been to get them to lengthen the rope, and potentially use it as a weapon. She might be able to disable one of them by running sideways and wrapping the rope around him, taking him down and using his weapon in both hands. Possibly kill one or two more of them, but they ignored her, ruining her plan. Clenching her jaw, she matched pace with the wagon, accepting defeat, for now.

    Halfway through the day, they stopped. Once again, the captain gave her water and a piece of dried meat. Two of the soldiers left, coming back after several hours, carrying a large bag and laughing. She could make out several buildings in the direction they came back from as she sat on the ground, panting.

    ¡°Problem, boss. They didn''t believe the story.¡± One of the men said, as the other placed the bag in the wagon.

    ¡°You still got paid, didn''t you?¡±

    ¡°We did, but we had to stab one of them. Left the man bleeding on the ground, the others begging us to leave. Don''t think he''ll be surviving, without a doctor.¡±

    The captain cursed. ¡°It''s unfortunate, but sometimes that is going to happen. We should avoid this place next time. They might hold a grudge, or set a trap. Not worth the risk.¡±

    The men nodded, and the captain swung himself back up on his horse. Ferene was pulled to her feet as the wagon started to move again.

    For the third night, they stopped at a sort of camp ground, and set up a fire. Ferene was tied to a post, her arms over her head, and an extra rope around her waist. Once more, she had water poured down her throat and food shoved into her mouth. The captain did not talk to her this time, sitting around the campfire, talking with his men. Long, low stone benches made a circle for them to enjoy the heat as Ferene watched from a distance. She found herself dozing off this time, staying up all day and all night, and marching the entire day, leaving her exhausted.

    A sudden lack of chatter, alongside some footsteps, made her fully alert. She tried to stand up, but just pulled against the rope around her waist. Someone had walked into the circle, and the men had gone silent.

    Ferene had never met a woman as tall as she was. She stared upwards at the woman who walked into the circle and sat down across from the captain, placing her spear across her lap. With both of them sitting down, she was taller than he was, and he was only a bit taller than Ferene. She wore no jacket, her metal breastplate exposed, polished steel reflecting the light of the fire. A long knife hung at her belt.

    Ferene''s eyes were drawn upwards, though. Her short-cut, dark red hair did nothing to conceal the brown flesh of ears jutting outwards from her head like spikes. That one detail took her entire focus, a singular point drawing her vision towards it, until she spoke, breaking the spell.

    ¡°Sergeant Niffrem, while it was not difficult to track you down, it was very annoying to do so. You have left quite an impression behind you, everywhere you stopped.¡±

    The captain ¨C the sergeant? - sat up straight, his back stiff. ¡°I''m a very memorable man.¡± His voice was the same as usual, with just a hint of mockery in it.

    ¡°You are a soldier of Olentor, and I expect you to act like you are representing the King''s honor.¡±

    His voice changed with this. ¡°The King gave up his honor, and the honor of the whole country, the day he married that woman and took the crown. You''d know that, if you hadn''t ran away before it happened.¡± Ferene hadn''t heard him speak with such anger before. The older soldiers were looking back and forth between the newcomer and their leader, nervous.

    ¡°I am willing to not regard you all as deserters, given the changing political situation stressing your loyalties. However, theft, impersonation, and racketeering, in a foreign land, while wearing the king''s colors, is something I can''t ignore.¡± Her voice was low, hard, full of anger. The Sergeant bent over, seeming to shrink away from her.

    ¡°I''m doing what I can to care for my men. That''s what''s important.¡±

    ¡°You are terrorizing the people living on this land.¡±

    ¡°We''re soldiers.¡±

    ¡°You were soldiers. You left.¡±

    They both went silent. Ferene watched the others. Five against one, but none of them were reaching for weapons. They sat, watching her. She watched them.

    Eventually, the woman noticed Ferene. ¡°Kidnapping, too?¡±

    ¡°She killed three of my men. One of them while she was unarmed. Something isn''t right with that one.¡±

    ¡°I can only assume that you were the ones who started the fight. I hope that...¡± She trailed off, staring at Ferene. They held each other''s gaze, and Ferene saw recognition in her green eyes. ¡°You captured a Hatharen.¡±

    ¡°We did, but there''s something wrong with her. She''s feral. She attacked us, in town. Surely you heard about that.¡±

    ¡°I heard about a fight, I didn''t realize...¡± She stopped speaking, slowly standing up, spear in hand. ¡°Enough of this. You are all criminals. Free the girl, return what you stole, and come with me.¡±

    ¡°Or?¡± He stood as well, and the other men followed suit, picking up their weapons. They were already in a half circle, surrounding her.

    ¡°Do you really want to fight me, Niffrem? You said you wanted to take care of your men. I will kill all of you.¡±

    ¡°We aren''t going back.¡± His voice was tight, he fell into a fighting stance. His men followed suit, five spears held at the ready, the furthest two stepping outwards, moving to surround her. Ferene watched, remembering herself in the same position.

    The woman stood at ease, holding her spear tip-down, waiting, waiting, before lunging sideways, stabbing at one of the flanking men. He stepped back, staying out of her range, but she was already turning, spinning, thrusting her spear with one hand towards the opposite man. He parried the attack, his weapon clashing against hers. The first man, opposite him, fell to the ground, making a wet gagging noise.

    At some point during her second movement, she had thrown her knife and lodged it in his throat.

    The other three exploded into motion. The sergeant, Niffrem, rushed forward, swinging wildly, yelling. One of the others moved over the fallen man, taking up the flank position, moving to attack her from the other side. The last one stepped beside the man currently being attacked, bringing his weapon up to force her away.

    The Hatharen pushed the man away from her, and spun, twirling her weapon, knocking aside two attacks in a single motion, her feet sliding backwards, keeping herself from being surrounded. She sidestepped towards the man standing in front of his downed companion, blocking an attack from him with her armored shoulder, shoving him aside as she ducked to retrieve her knife. The four men quickly rearranged themselves into a curved line again, though now Ferene was behind them all.

    Both sides stood apart, for just a moment, before the woman charged forward. She swung her spear in a wide arc, forcing the middle two men back. Niffrem tried to counterattack, but she easily parried his attack, then in the same motion slammed the butt of her spear into the other man''s stomach as he reacted too slowly. He fell to his knees, and she stepped over him, twirling her weapon as the three men formed a line again, this time facing Ferene.

    There was another moment of hesitation, when one of the men brought the wounded one back to his feet. The newcomer took this moment to step backwards, right beside Ferene''s post, and slam her knife across the rope tying her hands upwards, then drop her knife. Ferene immediately grabbed it, flipping it over in her double-handed grip, sawing through the bindings on her wrists.

    ¡°I''m not sure you want that one helping you out, Linara. She doesn''t seem to be entirely there, in the head. Might turn on you.¡±

    ¡°I''m outnumbered, I''ll take the risk.¡±

    Ferene freed her hands, then slashed the ropes around her waist and ankles. Scrambling to her feet, she looked around. The wagon was on the other side of the campsite, four men and a lot of ground between her and it.

    Ferene, as it happened, specialized in running.

    She turned and ran away from them.

    Behind her, there was a short laugh, but she didn''t pay attention to that. Her legs hurt. Her entire body hurt, but she ran. Away, then turning, to swing around. Fire in the distance. She came to the wagon, and found her sword and armor in the pile of other weapons and gear. She grabbed the sword, and turned to look back at the fight.

    The four men were advancing on Linara again, more cautiously this time. She parried attack after attack, no longer making offensive moves of her own, her spear spinning in her hands as she redirected attacks from multiple directions. There was something to how she fought that caused Ferene to pause. Every movement was so precise, her feet planted on the ground, not a single step wasted when she adjusted her footing, even with four people attacking her. There was beauty in it, a contrast to how Ferene felt every time she fought, brutally attacking whatever was in front of her.

    There were, however, times when brutality was all you needed.

    Leaping off the top of the wagon, Ferene hit the ground running, her sword held out in front of her. Niffrem must have heard her footsteps, her scream as she advanced, as he turned towards her, his eyes going wide in surprise. Her sword pierced through his chest before he brought his weapon up, the impact sending a shock wave up Ferene''s arms as she tore a hole in his armor.

    The rest of the fight turned into a blur.

    One of the remaining three turned to run. Ferene yanked her sword out of the sergeant''s body and ran after him, her first swing knocking him to the ground, her sword not getting through his chain mail, but the metal shirt did little to protect his neck after he was down. When she finished with him and turned to look back at Linara, the other two men were on the ground at her feet.

    The woman stood in the light of the fire, spear in one hand, breathing steadily, calmly. She nodded to Ferene, then walked over and held out her hand, palm up.

    After several seconds of them staring at each other, she blinked once. ¡°My knife.¡±

    Ferene had shoved it through her belt. Belatedly, she drew it, flipping it over and handing it to the woman. She had her own, in the wagon. As she took her first step back there, she found her entire body heavy. She dragged her sword along the ground as she retrieved her things. The various pieces of her armor were in the pile of gear, and she grabbed them, slowly putting them on. Lebb''s jacket was still too short for her, but it would have to do.

    ¡°Do you know who all of this belongs to? We need to return it.¡±

    ¡°Weapons and armor from the soldiers I killed.¡± She said, shoving her knife back into her boot and fixing her short sword to her belt. ¡°Don''t know the rest.¡±

    ¡°We can re-trace their route, stopping by the farmsteads, giving things back.¡±

    ¡°Dump it all at the first place, let them sort it out.¡± Ferene opened one of the packs that she knew to contain food, pulling out a lumpy travel biscuit. She bit into it, crumbs falling from her mouth.

    The other woman walked away from her, towards Niffrem''s horse. The animal had been panicking during the fight, trying to pull free from the post it was tied to. It calmed down at her touch, sniffing at her. Ferene shoved more of the hard biscuits into the pockets of her borrowed jacket before she put it on over her armor. Briefly, Ferene remembered the woman mentioning the king¡¯s colors. Lebb''s jacket, like those of the other men, was a deep maroon color, with some fancy stitching around the collar and shoulders.

    ¡°They ruined my shirt.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°They ruined my shirt, so I''m taking the jacket. Don''t kill me for it.¡±

    ¡°What''s your name?¡±

    ¡°Ferene.¡±

    Linara walked over to the campfire and sat down, pointing at a position across from her. ¡°Sit, and tell me what happened.¡± Ferene hesitated. She wanted to run, but she didn''t think she could. ¡°My name is Linara of Aesuthal. Sit, Ferene, and tell me what happened.¡±

    She sat, and she spoke. A simple story of hearing about what the men were doing, attacking them, killing two, being taken prisoner, killing a third, and then being a prisoner again. Green eyes watched her, glowing in the light of the fire.

 Chapter 3: A step back - 1

    ¡°What if you were wrong?¡±

    Pressing her lips together, Ferene looked at Linara. The woman had remained silent the whole time, letting Ferene talk. The question came only at the end.

    ¡°At the start. A man approached a group, and made an accusation. You believed this man, and started a fight, killing some of the group. What if you had been wrong? What if that man had just been speaking out of anger, and the soldiers had done nothing wrong, yet you still killed them?¡±

    Ferene looked down, into the fire, then at her hands. ¡°I wasn''t wrong.¡± She said, quietly, but she knew. Linara knew.

    ¡°What if an evil man were to accuse a good man of a crime, and you attacked and killed him? What if one evil man turned you against his rival, so that he could gain power afterward? What if someone gave you instructions that lead you into a trap, because you''ll believe anything you hear?¡±

    Shame. She remembered Tollund, and how she had followed his attack plan without knowing his past. She had been lucky so many times. ¡°I would...¡± Obviously, she would just fight her way out of any bad situation, but the words died before she could say them. For the last two days, Ferene had been a prisoner, bound and dragged across the countryside. Against trained soldiers she had not been able to fight her way out.

    One of them had called her an animal. Maybe she was acting like one.

    Linara sighed, getting to her feet. ¡°Let''s rest for the night, and figure out what to do with all of this tomorrow. You look exhausted.¡±

    Before Linara''s arrival, Ferene had been on the edge of falling asleep despite being held upright. The fight had given her a burst of energy, but it was wearing off now. She nodded.

    Curiosity kept Ferene from running.

    She woke up first, having fallen asleep in a pile of blankets they had found in the supply wagon. Linara must have taken care of the bodies, because Ferene didn''t see them around the campsite. It took her a moment to find Linara, even ¨C the woman set up a hammock between two posts. Ferene considered leaving for a moment, then walked towards her.

    Two steps later, the hammock flipped over, dropping Linara to the ground. She rolled, coming to her feet, knife in hand. She saw Ferene and relaxed, turning around and checking on the animals ¨C the two donkeys and the horse had stopped their grazing to turn to their heads and watch.

    Linara didn''t look any less imposing without her armor. She stretched for a moment, then got dressed as Ferene watched. Linara had succeeded where Ferene had failed. One against five, she stood and fought. There was no doubt in Ferene''s mind that even without her intervention, Linara would have won. In the same situation, Ferene''s only option had been trying to run away. Looking at her, she didn''t see much of a difference between the two of them. Linara was taller, yes, but the length of her arms, the size of her muscles ¨C nothing there would give Linara any advantage. She was just a better fighter.

    Linara stopped before putting on her armor, having noticed Ferene staring. The two watched each other for a wordless moment. Ferene remembered the conversation from last night, before Linara had freed her. Whatever training the soldiers had, Linara also had, if she was from the same place. Ferene was sure she could have beaten any one or even two of them at the same time, like she had the first day, but Linara had been even better.

    ¡°Um.¡±

    Those green eyes were still staring at her. Linara had not moved, standing next to her hammock, watching Ferene watch her.

    ¡°Teach me to fight.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Breathing out, Ferene turned away, walking back over to the wagon. She retrieved her armor and her weapons, then paused to look at all the other supplies. Neatly folded shirts of chainmail, a stack of spears, a pile of boots next to two jackets. Linara must have taken what wasn''t ruined off the bodies.

    ¡°Not even going to ask why?¡± A voice asked from behind her.

    Ferene stayed silent. She could still feel the shame from last night, when Linara had pointed out how easily what she did could be used against her, or to make things worse.

    ¡°Do you know what the most valuable thing they had is?¡±

    The question made Ferene stop, staring at the things in the bed of the wagon. Each individual piece probably wasn''t worth much. Her eyes lingered on the pile of armor ¨C food and money stolen from the farmers wasn''t going to be as valuable to sell as worked metal. Then she stopped again, considering. Wasn''t the most useful item the most valuable?

    ¡°Cart.¡± She said, turning around, but Linara had already walked off. Ferene spotted the other woman standing next to the horse, rubbing the animal''s face and...whispering to it. Immediately she felt stupid ¨C of course the horse was the most valuable thing. Something was different about the beast, compared to the ones she''d see on farms they passed. Like the armor, the soldiers had brought it with them when they left, rather than taking it from the people in the independent lands.

    Ferene watched as Linara pulled something out of one of her pockets and fed it to the animal. Cautiously, she approached, watching the horse as it brushed its nose against Linara''s jacket, possibly searching for more food.

    ¡°Olentor takes good care of its soldiers. Or at least it used to. Good soldiers take good care of their horses, and each other.¡±

    ¡°You said you were from Aesuthal.¡±

    Linara sighed, rubbing the horse''s neck, then stepping away. ¡°I was born and raised in Aesuthal, the southeastern stronghold. I did my part, and then left. I got a job in Olentor. I was the former prince''s instructor, but I knew a lot of the common soldiers as well. I met Niffrem a few times. I didn''t ever think I would have to kill him.¡±

    ¡°I killed him.¡±

    Linara looked at her, a strange expression on her face.

    ¡°I killed Niffrem. You killed the others.¡±

    She smiled. She laughed. The act seemed so alien to Ferene. What was there to smile about, to laugh about? Linara did it anyway.

    ¡°I''m lucky, then. I can say that I didn''t kill him myself. I''d hate to have to kill one of the people I trained, even if I didn''t know him very well.¡±

    Out of all the people Fenere had met, Linara was the strangest. Something about her was different, and it showed in how she reacted to everything. Ferene watched her as she moved around the camp, collecting the last few things that were out and placing them in the back of the wagon. Her eyes drifted upwards towards the woman''s ears. Just like her own, they stood stuck outwards from her head, ending in pointed tips above her shoulders. She looked mostly human, the same way Ferene did, but she acted differently.

    ¡°Tell me about Aesuthal.¡±

    Linara stopped, turning to look at Ferene. ¡°It''s the Hatharen stronghold on the southeastern border.¡± She pressed her lips together, her smile gone. The laughter of before seemed so alien to how she spoke of the place. The change happened suddenly, but Ferene almost didn''t notice it. This was how people should talk about things.

    It seemed wrong for Linara.

    The other woman''s lack of words seemed to infect Ferene. The amount of things left unsaid annoyed her, pushed at her in unfamiliar ways. ¡°You grew up with Hatharen. What is-¡±

    ¡°I can''t tell you.¡±

    The words stopped her like a wall. The questions, the curiosity forming instantly vanished. There was something in Linara''s response that made Ferene tense, as if she was readying herself to defend against an attack. Her hands itched, wanting to reach for her sword.

    ¡°We may both be half human but you know nothing of the Hatharen and it''s best that you keep it that way. Stay away from the border, stay away from the strongholds. Both of us should keep ourselves in human lands and only pay attention to human affairs.¡±

    Ferene nodded. Temporary curiosity was just that. She had other things to do.

    What she had to do, it turned out, was drive the wagon.

    Luckily, that just meant pulling the brake lever whenever Linara stopped. The two donkeys were content to follow Linara on the horse, pulling the cart down the dirt road as Ferene sat on top of it, leaning back and staring at Linara absently. Doing so little felt wrong to her ¨C she wasn''t walking, she wasn''t planning her escape from captivity, she was just sitting and waiting. Was this the peaceful life that people yearned for? Trying to think of what to do next left her at a dead end ¨C part of her wanted to stay with Linara, and see what the former soldier did next, possibly try to learn how to fight like she did. The other part of her wanted to run very, very far away from the woman. The way she smiled and laughed and then suddenly became deadly serious was unnerving.

    So in short, she didn''t have anything to do, and she hated it.

    After several hours of this, they arrived at one of the farmhouses on the road. Ferene wasn''t sure if this one had been visited by the soldiers, but it was safe to assume so. She pulled the brake lever when Linara raised her hand, and then waited as she got off the horse and approached the house. Two men came out, one brandishing a broom and the other a frying pan. Ferene stayed silent, watching as her companion made a few gestures, spoke a few words, and calmed the situation down. She led the two men to the cart, and they looked over the things in the bed, one of them eyeing Ferene suspiciously.

    ¡°My friend up there thinks we should give you all of this and let you give it back to the rightful owners, so that we can be on our way.¡±

    Both of the men looked to Linara, then to Ferene, then at each other.

    ¡°You''d just leave it all here, with us, and we''d give it to whoever we feel like?¡±

    Linara smiled at them. ¡°I''d like your word that you will do your best to make sure it''s all returned properly. Take it all to market, invite everyone over and have them take what is theirs. I can trust you to do that, can''t I? My friend and I have some important business to attend to, but we can''t take all of this with us while we do that.¡±

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The two of them looked at each other again, both nodding. ¡°You can trust us to do that.¡±

    ¡°Excellent! I''ll come back this way after to check up on you.¡± She stepped away from them and gestured towards Ferene. Hopping down from the wagon, she followed Linara over to the horse.

    ¡°You made this suggestion. Tell me, would you have come back to make sure they held up their end of the bargain?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Ferene said.

    ¡°Then what would stop the person you gave it all to from taking it all for themselves?¡±

    Ferene shrugged, but again she felt the shame.

    ¡°You give people opportunities to take advantage of others. You look only for the most obvious wrongs, and solve them by killing the person responsible.¡±

    ¡°If they don''t do what you want, will you kill them?¡±

    Her question made Linara pause, again pressing her lips together. ¡°No. If I come back here, and the items haven''t been returned properly, I''m going to tell the others what has happened, and let them determine the kind of punishment they want for the people that wronged them.¡±

    Ferene nodded. ¡°What is our other business?¡±

    ¡°Niffrem was taking you somewhere, wasn''t he?¡±

    Ferene nodded. He had mentioned something like that, but she hadn''t paid much attention to it. Her focus was entirely on escaping and killing him.

    ¡°I suspect that there was a person he was bringing you to, and that person will be the kind of very obvious evil that you specialize in removing. You have a reputation for dealing with this kind of situation, and I''d like to help you out with that.¡±

    ¡°Reputation?¡± Ferene asked, frowning.

    ¡°There are some stories, going around, of an orange-haired Hatharen that will kill a certain kind of person. Not a lot of stories, but a few. People seemed to assume I would be interested in hearing about it.¡± She waved a hand at her ear.

    It took a moment for Ferene to understand. First, Tollund had found her, and now Linara. She didn''t know if having a reputation was good or a bad thing. She didn''t like thinking about what other people thought.

    ¡°We find the person and we kill them.¡± She said,

    ¡°That''s the goal.¡± Linara turned, looking back up the road, the way they had come. ¡°Of course, we need to figure out who it is first, and where. I could hope that they planned to follow this road, and take you to the nearest city, and the person will be there, and while that''s a lot of assumptions it is the best starting point I can think of.¡±

    Nodding, Ferene looked at the horse again. Linara had put several bags from the wagon onto the beast at the start of the day. ¡°Are we going to take this with us?¡±

    ¡°To the city, at least. He isn''t built to carry someone like me around all the time. When we get there, I''ll have him taken care of. He isn''t made for people like us.¡±

    With a shrug, Ferene started walking along the road, Linara following. Once again, she was stuck with someone that talked too much.

    Together, they traveled back along the road, past the camp site where they met, and further beyond. In the independent lands, there were several cities. Annsgrad, where she met Tollund, was far behind her, to the west. As they moved north, towards Cefgras, the farmlands that once lined the sides of the roads became sparser and sparser, soft soil becoming rock-ridden, trees becoming shorter and skeletal. The land looked starved as they traveled further north.

    The two of them stopped to rest, finding a few large stones off the side of the road. Linara dismounted and set the animal to graze as Ferene watched. On the road, both of them had stayed silent, content to just keep moving, Ferene walking as Linara rode. Turning to her, Linara smiled. ¡°Do you want first watch?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Watch. We take turns, keeping watch. Make sure nobody kills us in our sleep. I''ve decided to trust you to do that. No need to set up traps if one of us can stay awake and look out.¡±

    Ferene shrugged. Sleep always meant the possibility of not waking up. Growing up taught her that ¨C if someone wanted you dead enough, they''d kill you, and you wouldn''t be able to stay awake long enough to avoid it. Best ways to avoid that were to not be the person anyone wanted to kill, or to kill anyone who wanted to kill you. Maybe it was different for soldiers. A lot harder to avoid being noticed.

    ¡°If you don''t have any preference, I''ll take first watch, since you''ve been on your feet all day. Keep an eye on the road, and if you see anyone move towards us, wake me up. Also make sure the horse doesn''t wander too far off.¡± Linara started taking off her armor, laying it on the ground.

    Once again, the process mesmerized Ferene. She wore so much more, but it didn''t slow down any of her movements while fighting. Between the breastplate, the skirt, the different pieces of leg and shoulder armor, Linara spent the day with more than half of her body encased in metal, but she moved with no more limitations than Ferene, wearing only a few metal pieces strapped on to leather and cloth.

    Stripped down to only her underclothes, Linara noticed Ferene staring and raised an eyebrow. ¡°This again? I''m not interested.¡±

    ¡°You won''t train me. I know.¡±

    ¡°Train?¡± Linara looked confused for a moment, then her expression softened. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and broke into laughter. Ferene frowned in response. Something was funny here, but she didn''t know what. The more she tried to understand Linara, the more curious the woman seemed.

    ¡°What''s so funny?¡± Ferene finally asked.

    Linara stopped laughing, turning to look at Ferene, smiling widely. ¡°I thought you were staring at me so intently because you wanted something...well, something else from me. I didn''t realize you were only thinking about how I fight.¡±

    ¡°What else is there?¡±

    ¡°Don''t worry about it.¡±

    Ferene shrugged, and turned to look back towards the road. It bothered her, that she had spent her entire life fighting, spent so long thinking only of how to find and kill people, and she was nowhere near as good at fighting as this woman who laughed randomly and said all sorts of things that made no sense. In a lot of ways, it didn''t seem fair.

    Ferene was very, very used to things not being fair, so that part of it didn''t bother her.

    The two of them returned to silence the next day, until they arrived at Cefgras. The city sprawled across the rocky ground, without walls or well-defined entrances, the road they were following branching as it curved into the city, dozens of split paths leading into different parts. Linara led the way, dismounting and leading her horse, following one tendril as it expanded into a broad street, single story buildings ¨C every building seemed to be single story, in Cefgras ¨C lining the sides. Ferene followed her, frowning. This part of the city wasn''t exactly clean, but it had too much care put into it. The fronts of the wooden structures were coated with a thin layer of reddish dust, but the signs of the shops were brightly painted, the doors in good repair, the large windows showing cleaned rooms inside.

    It bothered Ferene. This place felt different. Every construction took up as much space as possible, the city stretching across the barren flat as if to claim it, to bury the landscape underneath the presence of humanity, a presence which overwhelmed everything else. It stood in contrast to the other cities Ferene visited, where buildings cowered, huddling together for safety.

    Linara stopped in front of yet another wide, single story building. The center of the structure sat back from the street, but the sides stretched forward like arms, wrapping around a courtyard in the center. As the two of them walked through the arched gateway, a man came jogging forward, offering to take the horse. Ferene frowned as Linara handed the animal off, and followed her inside.

    For how massive the place was on the outside, the first room was shockingly small. An older woman sat behind a desk, reading a book by the light from a window in the ceiling. To the sides of the entrance were several cushioned chairs. Ferene stared at them as Linara talked to the woman.

    ¡°Lady Linara. Will you be staying here for long?¡±

    ¡°I''m not sure how long my companion and I will be staying.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I can have a set of rooms for you for as long as you need. Fees will be standard at first, but if it gets to be longer than a month you will be charged an increased rate. Shall I send the expense to Olentor?¡±

    ¡°I''m no longer a representative of Olentor, but you can send them the expense anyway. When you do, also send them the horse I came here with. It should more than make up for the cost of the stay.¡±

    Ferene could, just barely, hear the woman''s tone shift slightly. She was still staring at the chairs. ¡°I''m not sure a single horse will cover your expenses.¡±

    ¡°It''s one of the king''s scout animals. It was either stolen or misplaced, depending on how they want to look at it. They will be very happy to have it back.¡±

    The silence that followed was long enough that Ferene turned to look, seeing the woman flipping through several pages in a stack of paper she had, her mouth partially agape. ¡°A, a scout horse, yes, I''m sure that will earn you a lot of good will. The monetary value, though...¡±

    ¡°Charge the crown, and tell them if they have a problem with it, they can hunt me down themselves and I''ll pay them back. In the meantime, my rooms.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, of course.¡±

    The woman handed over a key, giving Linara directions. Ferene followed her out of the small entrance room, into a long hallway, the slight curve of which prevented her from seeing an end to it in either direction. Linara led her down it, then a branching hallway, likewise curving endlessly into the beyond, and finally to a set of wide double doors. Inserting the key into the lock, she threw them open.

    Ferene rarely had a room to herself. She shared one with other children growing up, and after setting out on her own, when she wasn''t sleeping on the ground, she stayed in farm lofts, sometimes begged for, sometimes paid for, sometimes stolen because she didn''t want to bother waking up the owners. Occasionally she would stay in the cheapest inn a city had.

    Never had she even seen a place like this. The cushioned chairs at the building''s entrance were nothing like this place. Numerous thick rugs covered the wooden floors, upon which sat plush couches and chairs, low tables with embroidered tablecloths. The walls were covered in stacked bookcases and paintings. The ceiling, once again, had windows set into it, flooding the room with light.

    ¡°You can have that bedroom.¡± Linara said, pointing to a door off to the side, while she stepped towards an identical one in the other direction. ¡°In fact, please use it, and don''t follow me. I''m looking forward to getting changed without you staring at me awkwardly the entire time.¡±

    Ferene stared at her as Linara opened the door, stepped through, and closed it behind her. Taking a deep breath, she did the same with her door. The room beyond was smaller than the main room, but no less grand. A massive bed dominated the center, adorned with multiple blankets and pillows. Ferene stared at it for several heartbeats, before hesitantly stepping forward to touch it. Her hand sunk into the softness of it, and she immediately pulled back.

    This was wrong.

    Linara acted so...unaffected by it all, but Ferene felt her hands twitching. She wanted to grab her sword, to turn and attack whoever was going to jump out of the shadows at her. She didn''t belong here, in a place like this, and every extravagant detail of it seemed hostile towards her. Any minute someone was going to show up and cut off her hand for touching the bed. She spun towards the door, eyes locked on it, waiting for it to happen.

    It didn''t.

    Stepping backward, Ferene sat down on the bed, feeling herself sink into it. Had she ever touched something this soft before? She leaned backwards, stretching her arms out to her sides as she lay on her back, the blankets and mattress giving way under her, surrounding her. Ferene''s eyes shot open, she twisted, pulling herself to her feet, desperately fleeing from the inanimate object that was trying to swallow her whole. Standing with her back to the door, she stared at the bed.

    Staying here was going to be difficult.

    Things would be so much simpler if she was in a run-down room, cold seeping through the walls, floorboards creaking under her feet, wrapped in scratchy blankets frayed by use. Alone. This was her fault, for following Linara. Curiosity, that had been her reason. That had gotten her here. She had broken from her routine. Linara wasn''t someone she needed to kill, so the woman could have been left alone. If Ferene had just done that, she wouldn''t be in this ridiculous situation.

    ¡°So, how do we go about doing this?¡±

    Ferene looked at Linara and frowned. She found herself doing that a lot, but this time she was confused not just with her overall approach to life, but the question presented.

    ¡°Find person, kill person.¡±

    Linara raised her eyebrows, looked around the common area of their rooms, and held her hands out, palm-up. ¡°Find person?¡±

    Ferene nodded. ¡°Then kill person.¡±

    ¡°So how do we find this person? Just go through the city and ask if any of them are in the business of buying people from army deserters?¡±

    Ferene''s frown deepened, and she found herself clenching her jaw. Taking a deep breath, she let it out with a sigh. Focus and thought. She looked at Linara. The woman was out of her armor, wearing a loose-fitting shirt and trousers, sitting on one of the overly stuffed chairs in the room. The clothes made her look odd. She relaxed in the chair, looking nothing like the soldier Ferene had been traveling with.

    A soldier.

    An idea started forming in Ferene''s mind.

    ¡°You''re a soldier.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You said you were from the same place those men were. You can be one of them. You''re looking for their friend.¡±

    Linara''s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, then closed. She seemed to be thinking instead of talking, for once. Then she smiled.

    ¡°I''ve never been a spy before. That sounds like fun. What will you do?¡±

    ¡°I''m...going to talk to people.¡±

    ¡°You''ve never been in this city before. Who are you going to talk to?¡±

    Ferene looked around the room once. Linara seemed to fit, somehow. Ferene herself, didn''t. ¡°Poor people.¡±

    ¡°Poor people?¡±

    ¡°Victims. Friends and families of victims.¡± Tollund''s face flashed through her memory. ¡°Someone who knows who in this city needs to die.¡±

    ¡°You''re just going to kill whoever the poor people tell you to?¡±

    Ferene nodded, picked up her sword, and stepped towards the door. ¡°Wait.¡± Linara said, standing up. Ferene turned to look at her as she crossed the room, pulling a cloak out of a closet. Rich rooms apparently came stocked with all sorts of things.

    ¡°Put this on, and keep the hood up. Don''t let anyone see your ears.¡±

    Ferene took it as it was offered, but stared at Linara questioningly.

    ¡°People notice your ears. I tracked you down from talking to people that remembered you. This time, don''t let them remember you. Find out what you need and then come back here, and wait for me. I have an idea. We can do this together.¡±

 Chapter 3: A step back -2

    Cefgras greeted her again, wide streets flanked by low, wide buildings. The dry air hung still as Ferene started walking away from the building Linara had shown her to. Being away from the other woman gave her some time to think more clearly. There was a curiosity inside her, trying to push outward. She wanted to know more about Linara, where she came from. Ferene was not human, and never properly fit in with humans, but she didn''t know why. She didn''t know what about her was different, aside from some small details. Linara could tell her, she just had to ask first.

    Ferene hated asking.

    Cutting through streets, constantly turning away from anything overly extravagant, Ferene slowly wandered the city. Her old life never consisted of asking. If she could prove herself worthy, she''d be allowed to have things. If she did not, she would have nothing. Asking only showed weakness. People saw your strength and gave you what you wanted, or you demonstrated your strength by taking what you wanted. Linara didn''t respond to her demands earlier ¨C but Linara was stronger than she was, so there was no reason to.

    Curiosity wasn''t something she could afford.

    Ferene knew all she needed to know about herself. She knew how fight and how to kill. She knew how long she could run for, how long she could go without eating. She didn''t need to know what was different about her compared to the humans around her. It didn''t matter. At the end of the day, she''d be alive or she''d be dead. There was nothing about herself Linara could tell her that would change that.

    It was that simple.

    Slowly, the city changed as she walked, lost in thought. Now, the streets had narrowed, the buildings didn''t stretch upwards with multiple stories, but they loomed closer to her, crowding her in. While it made her uneasy it also felt proper. This was how a city should be. The walls and doors to either side looked more worn, more dirty. Ferene walked faster. The people she passed stepped around her. She didn''t bother trying to talk to any of them ¨C they didn''t want to talk to her, just as she didn''t want to talk to anyone else. That was fine.

    Down the street, she found an alley. Someone sat at the mouth, crouching down, hands held over a small fire. Ferene approached, looking down at the figure. The person looked up at her, pulling their tattered cloak tight around their shoulders. ¡°You want something?¡± The voice was barely over a whisper.

    Distrust. Fear. This person was cold and hungry, and presented with someone, armed, towering over them, face obscured. Ferene crouched down next to them, not looking at the person directly. ¡°I''m not from here.¡±

    ¡°Can tell that. You hiding something?¡±

    ¡°My father messed up my face,¡± She said.

    The person was silent for a long time, squeezing their hands together. Eventually, he spoke. ¡°We give our children things. Everything they have. Sometimes we give them things we don''t mean to.¡±

    Ferene shifted, sitting down, as the person continued. ¡°My son, he had...things. That he shouldn''t. Were they from me or from his mother? I don''t know. I tried to do what was right. You believe me, don''t you? I tried to do what was right. I wanted to help him. I wanted to be a good father.¡±

    ¡°You wanted to help.¡± She repeated, her hand moving to the hilt of her short sword. ¡°Tell me what happened.¡± The pain in the man''s voice pulled at her, but a lot of people regretted their actions after the fact, and those regrets often faded with time and lead them down the same path again and again. Possibilities constructed themselves in her mind. Had he harmed the child on purpose, or was it an accident? Was there a child at all? The man rambled, sobbing.

    ¡°My son, he struggles to breathe. He''ll start coughing and coughing. I didn''t know what to do. Can''t afford a doctor. I did what I could. I asked, I begged, and then someone came to help us. He said he could cure my son. So I let them take him, and they never came back. He never came back to me. I just wanted to help him, but he never came back.¡±

    Letting go of her sword, Ferene stood up. The man looked up at her, then back down. ¡°Where did they take your son?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I...I don''t know. I didn''t follow them. It''s all my fault.¡±

    ¡°Did anyone else see them take your son?¡±

    ¡°Ask the people around here. They all know. We all know we can''t do anything. You can''t do anything either.¡±

    Not giving him a response, she turned and started walking down the street again. Still, the people avoided her. She was an outsider. One broken man talking to her when nobody else would listen to him didn''t change that. She had a question now, and she needed answers, and so the wish to be left alone, to avoid the outsider, no longer mattered.

    New experiences came every day. New experiences came rarely. Every time she killed someone, it was different, yet every time, it was the same. Every hunt was different, and every hunt was the same. Here, the chase didn''t exist, she didn''t run, she didn''t exert herself physically. She walked through the streets, asking questions. The man''s son wasn''t the first to be taken. The location of her target wasn''t shown to her on a map she couldn''t read, but given to her with a set of directions of which way to turn at what street corner. The path didn''t take her across the countryside, but instead out of the slums and into a different part of the city. At the end of it she found herself standing outside a fence, looking through the bars at yet another wide, single story building, not too different from the one she had left earlier.

    Was this it? She stepped back, looking at the fence from a distance. That stood out ¨C the other buildings didn''t have fences. Following it around the perimeter, watching from a distance, she found the front gate, with a small hut on the inside, where a single guard stood, shaded, watching. No intimidation, nothing to warn people to stay away, just a silent, out of the way watcher. Was this it? Ferene turned and walked away, back towards Linara''s rooms.

    Ignoring her feelings that she was doing something wrong, Ferene walked through the building to Linara''s set of rooms, but she wasn''t there. So Ferene waited, sitting in an overstuffed chair, trying not to lean against the too-soft back or arms. The awkwardness of it got worse over time as she waited. It wasn''t that Ferene had ever been bad at waiting, it just didn''t feel right to sit in the chair. She ended up sitting on the floor instead, her back against the wall. Both were hard, supportive, they felt better.

    It didn''t take long for Linara to return. Giving Ferene an odd glance, she dropped a set of manacles down in front of her. ¡°I''ve come up with a plan.¡± She announced. Ferene looked at the manacles, then up at Linara, and frowned.

    ¡°Don''t look at me like that, it was your idea. Or it started from your idea. You said I could be a soldier, just like the ones we killed. The ones that were originally going to bring you here. What if I killed them and took you, their captive? And now I''m here trying to get in on whatever deal they had. You''re my prisoner and I''m trying to turn you in.¡±

    ¡°You want me to put those on?¡±

    ¡°I had a blacksmith make some modifications. You can trigger the lock yourself and take one off, but anyone yanking on them won''t be able to tell. I figure the two of us, with the advantage of surprise, are more than enough for any common guards.¡±

    It was in her words. The two of us. Linara was talking about them fighting together, side by side, even though she was by far the better fighter. Ferene nodded.

    ¡°Did you find out where we are going?¡±

    Ferene nodded again.

    ¡°Perfect. Now, let''s go over the plan.¡±

    Night changed Cefgras. The wide streets and low buildings offered an unobstructed view of the night''s sky, making it feel even more open than it had during the day. Even as they walked through the denser parts, the city felt less confining. Ferene knew that she needed only a short jump upwards to have an entirely open horizon.

    Except, she couldn''t jump right now. Linara walked behind her, pushing her forward with one hand while she held the rope connected to her manacles in the other. Even after practicing the trick to popping them open for a good half hour, Ferene still felt uncomfortable to be bound yet again, made worse by the fact that she couldn''t see Linara, just occasionally feel a push on one shoulder or the other.

    As the two of them walked through the city, Ferene felt eyes on them, heads turning to watch as they passed. Unlike earlier, her head was fully exposed, and the two of them together drew attention in the denser part of the city.

    The guard standing outside the gate looked towards them as they approached, shifting his stance and putting a hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. Ferene glared at him. Linara told her to just be angry at everyone around her. Not a hard thing to do.

    ¡°Stop there. What''s this about?¡± He stepped forward, looking past Ferene at Linara behind her. She felt a hand grab her shoulder and push downward. She tried to shrug it off, but Linara kicked her in the back of her knee, so Ferene knelt on one leg, glaring up at the guard.

    ¡°I met some old comrades on the road, they told me they were taking this one to sell to an interested party. I figured that whatever money they were getting for her would be better if it was all for me, instead of split between the six of them.¡± Ferene could hear Linara''s easy smile as she spoke. The guard looked down at Ferene, only for a moment. The guard on the other side of the gate stepped out of his shaded hut and jogged towards the main building.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°So you came here?¡±

    ¡°Didn''t get all the details from them, had to piece together the rest of it. Did I get it right?¡±

    He pushed the gate open just enough for a person to fit through. ¡°Get inside and stay put.¡±

    Linara yanked on the rope, pulling Ferene upwards and pushing her forward. She made sure to glare at the guard again as she walked past him. He didn''t meet her eyes, and she heard the gate close behind them.

    Five guards came out to meet them, one of them wearing a black cape. He frowned as he approached, looking first at Ferene, who glared at him, and then at Linara behind her. ¡°Well, look at this. You here to turn over one of your own kind?¡±

    ¡°I''m here to get paid, just like everyone else. You get humans from humans, what''s so different here?¡±

    The man let out a booming laugh, stepping forward to grab Ferene''s chin, tilting her head this way and that. She tried to bite his fingers, but he kept his grip tight on her jaw. ¡°She''s a wild one, isn''t she?¡± She growled at him as he yanked roughly on her ear. ¡°Why don''t you two come inside, and you can discuss payment with the man himself.¡±

    The other guards stepped aside, and he lead the way up the path towards the door of the building. Linara pushed Ferene ahead of her, staying silent. Ferene felt more embarrassment now than her entire time held captive. None of them had treated her like that. Her face burned where his fingers had touched her skin. The plan was simple, she either acted when Linara told her to, or if they were separated, whenever she got a chance at getting a weapon. Remembering that kept her from popping her shackles open and attacking the man from behind. Linara''s grip on her shoulder tightened, but the other woman remained silent.

    She was led and pushed past an entry hall and into a second, larger room, where two more guards stood at the walls, not quite entirely statue-like. An awkward, halfhearted attempt at looking stoic and silent that let the general relaxed confidence of common thugs show through the gaps. Ferene''s eyes darted between the group against the walls and the group that led them inside, missing the short, well-dressed man until he stepped forward.

    ¡°Look at this! Two of them! Already this is quite a find, you can see that they think just like us, turning on each other when it suits them. I will have to write this down. Now, tell me, what brings you here? Do you really think that I will pay you for returning property you stole from me?¡± The man talked quickly, excitement in his voice and his eyes as he stared up at Ferene, walking around her.

    ¡°My understanding is that she hadn''t yet been sold to you, and thus isn''t your property. I''m willing to carry out the deal you had with her previous captors.¡±

    The man came back into Ferene''s field of vision as he finished walking around her. He wore a loose-fitting black shirt, shiny silver buttons glittering on the front. She glared at him and he smiled back at her. ¡°That is entirely true, of course. I could pay you the fee I had agreed upon with...what was his name again? I have so many people working for me, I''m not sure which one it was.¡±

    ¡°Niffrem, and I doubt you had expected him to bring back something like this. I doubt that finding and capturing a Hatharen had an agreed-upon reward, and you would simply pay him for anything interesting. This is probably the most interesting thing you''ll get to see in your life. So, shall we negotiate?¡±

    The man frowned as Linara talked, then smiled, stepping back and rubbing his hands together. ¡°She is smart! So smart! Rathlin, pay attention to how she has this all thought through. You could learn from her.¡±

    ¡°Of course, sir.¡± The man in the cape said.

    ¡°Now, dear girl, please, tell me what you think a reasonable price is for a specimen such as this.¡±

    ¡°Fifty Squares.¡±

    Ferene managed to not drop her glare in surprise. Fifty Squares was more money than she had ever seen. It was enough to buy her a completely new set of armor, custom fit to her, and still have enough left over to house and feed herself for the next six seasons.

    ¡°A rather high price, to start with, but I appreciate your boldness. I''ll give you thirty.¡±

    Linara stayed silent for a moment, and Ferene watched the man in the fancy shirt as he watched her. ¡°For thirty Squares you can learn how I was able to kill six Olentor soldiers by myself. I said fifty and I mean fifty.¡±

    The guards in the room shifted, even the ones at the walls, standing more at attention, no longer pretending to ignore the conversation. The one with the cape let his hand fall to the hilt of his sword. Fancy-shirt just laughed, waving his hand. ¡°Ah, she has threats, even here, outnumbered and surrounded. But she speaks the truth, she did kill a number of other people already in my employ, proving herself better than them. An odd way to start a business relationship, but once again, boldness! Boldness to spare! Would you settle for forty Squares?¡±

    ¡°Forty five. Give me another low offer and I''ll kill you where you stand, before any of your guards can react.¡±

    ¡°More threats! But...a rather reasonable number, perhaps. However, I see a problem with your final offer. You see, I could pay you the high sum of forty five Squares for a single Hatharen, or I could pay you nothing, and end up with two. G-AH¡± His words turned into a high pitched scream as Linara''s long knife appeared in his stomach.

    The men around him took a moment to stare, before reaching for their swords. The room exploded into noise and shouting. Linara pushed Ferene forward, and she ran with the momentum twisting her hands to pop the manacles off at the same time she rammed her shoulder into the neck of the man in the cape, knocking him over. She reached out and pulled his sword free of its sheath as he fell, turning to block a swing of the guard to his side. She ignored the sounds behind her and she grabbed the man''s hand. He wasn''t used to fighting in close quarters against people who could fight back. It was different than the soldiers, even different than the bandits and thieves on the roads. These men didn''t even fight the occasional hired escort, they just beat intimidated unarmed civilians.

    The guard screamed as she snapped his wrist and pulled his sword out of his limp fingers. She pushed him to the side as she turned on the next one, one of the two that had been at the walls. Ferene parried his attack and rammed her sword into his chest. Rather than pulling it out, she switched the second guard''s sword to her main hand and turned around.

    Linara stood complete still, legs spread, spear held horizontal with both hands. Four guards lay on the ground around her, and one more stood out of her range, holding his sword. He looked at her, then at Ferene, then threw down his sword, holding his hands over his head. Ferene walked over and stabbed him through the throat.

    ¡°Was that really needed?¡± Linara asked.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Ferene replied, turning to look over the people on the ground. The man with the broken hand was struggling to stand up, so she stabbed him, too. Linara walked over and put her foot down on the caped guard''s chest, preventing him from standing up. The man in the fancy shirt was moaning on the ground, pushing himself away from them as the wet stain on his shirt grew larger. He stared up at Linara, struggling to talk.

    ¡°You''re dead. No amount of money will prevent that kind of wound from killing you.¡± She pointed her spear at him. ¡°I don''t appreciate your boldness. Trying to scam me, even after I warned you what would happen? Not a smart move. Then again, if you were actually smart, you would have taken my weapons before letting me see you. That eager to meet a Hatharen? Hate to disappoint, but we''re both half-human.¡±

    He tried to open his mouth again, only succeeded in letting out a pained sound. Ferene walked over to him and yanked Linara''s knife free, glaring at him one last time. ¡°That was easier than I thought it would be.¡±

    ¡°Probably because you would have started from the outside and had to hunt him down, instead of making him walk up to you.¡± Linara kicked the caped man in the side. ¡°You there, time to tell us where the rest of the people your old boss captured are.¡±

    The man didn''t resist. He led them through the house, the occasional servant seeing them and scampering away. It bothered Ferene. The whole thing was so different. They didn''t fight, they didn''t struggle, they just ran. There must have been more guards, like the two at the gate, but they didn''t meet any. Were they all just going to run away? Bandits didn''t abandon a hideout without stripping it first, but the house was filled with paintings, gold wall lamps, fancy rugs, tables, and chairs. Surely there was money to be had here.

    The caped man led them down a staircase, into the basement. It wasn''t a cave, but it was close. Or it seemed that way until the three of them arrived at the cages.

    These weren''t prison cells. Small cages, not even enough for the occupants to stand up in, were scattered around the room. In the center was a wooden table with chains attached to it. The surface was covered in dried blood. The whole room stank of dried blood and human waste.

    ¡°What was he doing here?¡± Linara asked after a moment of silence.

    ¡°He wanted to know how they worked inside. So he cut them open to find out.¡±

    ¡°You worked for him?¡±

    ¡°They''re just homeless children. Would have died on the streets. Doesn''t matter either way.¡±

    ¡°Can I kill him now, Linara?¡±

    He lunged at her. Ferene stepped back and to the side, out of his reach, and he stumbled forward, his desperate move carrying too much momentum. She grabbed his cape as he moved past her, and yanked him back towards her, wrapping it around his neck. ¡°There''s only two kinds of people in this world. There''s the people that take advantage of others, and there''s the victims that get taken advantage of. You are part of the group that deserves to die.¡±

    She held him against her, tightening the cloth around his neck as he struggled, kicking, flailing his arms. Linara stared at her, and Ferene stared back, daring her to say or do anything to stop her, but Linara just stood still, her smile nowhere to be seen, as the man eventually stopped kicking. Ferene let the body fall to the floor.

    ¡°We need to get any of them that are still alive out of here.¡±

    Ferene nodded, and they got to work.

    She didn''t count the number of cages in the room, but it was probably more than thirty. Less than half of them were occupied, and in the end they found sixteen living children, only seven of which could walk. Starving, beaten, some of them bleeding, all of them naked. Linara went back upstairs and came down later with an armload of shirts. She handed them out, too big for the children but functional. It took another trip to get them all clothed. She went upstairs a third time, and didn''t immediately come back down. Ferene stood in the center of the room, some of the children staring up at her, others refusing to look. A lot of the worse off ones were still in their cages, refusing to leave. She picked the whole cages up and moved them closer to the door, away from the other cages. Eyes followed her as she worked, but none of them spoke. That was the more disturbing part of it, more than the situation they were in, but the silence.

    Was that how she was? Glaring silently all the time?

    No. She wasn''t a victim. She was a killer. Some day, someone would kill her. Maybe it would be Linara.

    Linara came back, voices following her. Eyes turned towards the stairwell, still silent. She walked down, six people following her. They wore some sort of uniform, all identical dark brown vests over white undershirts.

    The city watch, or so Ferene gathered. The eight of them managed to get the children out of their cages and upstairs, out of the dungeon. The ones that were in the worst condition were rushed out, while the others were left under watch in one of the many rooms of the mansion. Eventually Ferene and Linara were sent away. Ferene was glad to go. The two of them walked back to their own rooms where she fell asleep on the floor again.

    ¡°I still won''t train you.¡±

    Ferene remained silent. She hadn''t asked, or even looked at Linara, the woman just said that when she finished getting dressed the next morning.

    ¡°I think we need to go our separate ways from here, in fact.¡±

    There were things Ferene wanted to say, but she didn''t. She sat silently, her mouth closed. Linara had information, she had lived a life that Ferene knew nothing about, but she couldn''t bring herself to say anything. They were different.

    There was a sigh from the other side of the room. ¡°Don''t sulk like that. I''ll answer one question. Only one, though.¡±

    Ferene turned, looking at her. ¡°Where...Where are our people?¡±

    For a moment, Linara just frowned. She hadn''t been expecting that question, it seemed. ¡°From here, you would want to go north. All the way north, until you reach the mountains. There''s a good chance that they will kill you.¡±

    For some reason, Ferene wasn''t surprised to hear that. She nodded, stood up, grabbed her sword, and left. Despite moving constantly, for years, Ferene never felt sad to leave a place behind before. But that room, with Linara, tugged at her. She wanted to turn around and go back, claim she was staying, but she didn''t. She couldn''t. Linara wasn''t like her, just as Tullund wasn''t like her.

 Interlude: Linara - 1

    Holding his sword in two hands, Senral swung downward, aiming directly for Linara''s head. She spun her spear, batting his sword to the side with the tip, then brought her upper hand backwards, arcing the butt towards his shoulder. Senral stepped backwards, dodging the strike. He raised his hand to his face, brushing his sweat-soaked, dark brown hair out of his eyes, and frowned at Linara. She clenched her teeth, keeping her breathing steady, and waited for his next move. It only took a moment before her opponent swung again, a quick horizontal cut without much power. Linara deflected it, also not putting force into her movement.

    Smiling, he spun around and stepped forward, thrusting his sword straight at her chest. Holding her spear vertically, Linara attempted to push the strike to the side, but Senral shifted, pivoting his sword downward as he moved. After Linara moved her spear through the air, he slammed the handguard of his sword against her chest, stepping forward as he pushed her back, staying close to her.

    Finding Senral too close for her to effectively use her spear, Linara''s moved her left hand off the shaft of her spear and grabbed the hilt of the long dagger at her belt. In one motion, she drew the weapon and managed to strike his sword away, letting her swing her spear one-handed to slam against his waist.

    ¡°That was dirty.¡± He said, letting her shove him back as he lowered his sword in defeat. ¡°Your knife isn''t even blunted.¡± His sword and her spear were both dull training weapons. Her knife, on the other hand, was real. ¡°Not very sporting of you to use it here.¡±

    ¡°This is practice.¡± Linara said, sliding her knife back into it''s sheath. ¡°You''re practicing how to fight, and in a real fight I wouldn''t hesitate to do that. You put me in a disadvantageous situation, and I got myself out of it.¡±

    Senral smiled as he shook his head. ¡°While I cannot disagree with that, I still feel as though I''ve been cheated in some way. I don''t have a second weapon to pull out in a bad situation like that.¡±

    ¡°I''m sure that as the Crown Prince of Olentor, you would be easily able to find multiple other weapons. Or just ask several others to come to your aid.¡± Linara grinned at him. ¡°A strong king must know all the ways around a battlefield, in both fair and unfair fights.¡± She set her spear against the wall and took a deep breath, reaching behind herself to undo the fastener on her breastplate. ¡°That''s enough for today, though. That move would have worked against anyone with a spear, other than me.¡±

    He stepped towards her, helping her take her armor off and place it on the ground. Face to face, they were equal in height, and his face was very close to hers. Linara could smell his sweat and breath as he reached his hand up to stroke her cheek. ¡°And if I wanted to practice an engagement where I have the unfair advantage, how would we go about that?¡± He smiled, his face moving closer to hers.

    ¡°No.¡± She turned away from him. Pulling back, he frowned at her. ¡°We can''t do that any more, I told you. The Princess-¡±

    ¡°I don''t care about the Princess.¡± He said, firmly, cutting her off, but he still stepped away from her. Yanking the fasteners on his padded tunic, he threw it to the floor, revealing the chainmail beneath. Linara always demanded they train in proper armor. He pulled that off as well, roughly throwing it to the ground. ¡°I love you, and I want to be with you. You love me as well.¡± The last bit he stated as a fact, not a question.

    Swallowing, Linara steeled herself. ¡°I love you, but you have to marry her. Just as I have things I can''t do because of who my parents are, you have things you can''t do because of who your parents are. We''ve been over this.¡±

    Stepping towards her again, he grabbed her hand. ¡°What kind of king doesn''t have multiple women? Nothing is stopping us from being together. I have to marry her, but I don''t have to love her. We can still be together.¡±

    For the past several months, they had gone through some version of this conversation once every few weeks, Senral finding some new argument every time. This was the latest one, it seemed. Linara closed her eyes, pulling her hand free from his. ¡°I don''t want it to be that way. I don''t want to share you with anyone.¡±

    ¡°So-¡±

    ¡°No! Not this again!¡± It all came back to this. ¡°I cannot be your Princess, I cannot rule humans, no more than you can abandon this place and run away. I do not ask you to do that because I know you can''t, so stop asking me to do what I can''t!¡±

    His face twisted, the pain evident. Turning, he strode towards the exit of their training arena. ¡°I''m going to take a bath, wash the sweat off of me.¡± He said as he left.

    Leaning back against the wall, Linara counted to ten, then sunk to her knees, failing to hold back the tears. She knew he was young, human, and emotional. She knew he loved her as much as she loved him and was struggling to find a solution to make them both happy, but she could not be happy with his answers. Linara wanted him all to herself. She did not want to stand by and watch as he had children with another woman.

    ¡°Ma''am, uh...¡±

    Opening her eyes, she pushed herself to her feet, meeting the gaze of the palace servant standing in the doorway. She couldn''t bring herself to care about him seeing her like that. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Princess Yenra sent for you, Ma''am.¡±

    ¡°Of course she did. I''ll be there once I am presentable.¡±

    The messenger nodded and ran off.

    After a quick rinse and change of clothes, Linara strode into the princess''s meeting room. Heavy curtains divided the room, with the princess herself sitting on a high, cushioned chair on top of a raised platform. Multiple lengths to put the short woman above the sight line of her visitors. Linara stepped forward and bowed deeply to her.

    ¡°Rise, Lady Linara.¡±

    Linara straightened, looking upwards to find Yenra standing in front of her seat. She hid a smile as she looked the other woman over. The golden trim dress she wore started below her shoulders, white cloth clinging to her arms and breasts, tightening around her waist, then spilling down to the floor, hiding her legs entirely. Her face, shoulders, collarbone, and cleavage were the only exposed skin, long golden gloves covering her arms and hands under the sleeves of the dress. In the middle of that exposed skin was a gold necklace set with a single, large red stone. The short woman was breathtakingly beautiful.

    Yet somehow, Linara, dressed in a plain tunic and trousers with only a small spattering of embroidery, was the target of the prince''s affections. She pushed the greed downwards. ¡°You sent for me, Princess. How may I be of service?¡±

    ¡°You are the Prince''s master at arms and personal body guard, I am told.¡±

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    ¡°This is true, Princess.¡±

    ¡°Is it also true that your training sessions with him extend beyond pure martial arts?¡±

    ¡°I have taught him many things, Princess.¡±

    The woman let out a huff. ¡°Linara, let us not mince words.¡±

    ¡°I will answer any question you ask.¡± She responded, looking upwards to meet her gaze.

    Yenra went silent, but did not look away. ¡°Tell me, then, Linara. Did you take my Prince to your bed?¡±

    The way Yenra said ''my Prince'' pierced through the tension between them. The greed in Linara''s heart, the anger, the jealousy rose up. She didn''t fight it. ¡°I took him - or, to be more specific, he took me ¨C in a number of places. The training room, the baths, his waiting room, his own bed. However, no, I never had him in my bed.¡±

    Seeing that pretty face twist in anger gave Linara a surge of joy, and she found herself smiling. Very quickly, she let the more rational part of her mind take over, and continued. ¡°Of course, this was all months ago, before the negotiations between your kingdom and his were finalized and the marriage arranged. Since then, I have rejected his advances, multiple times, out of respect for you. If you have heard rumors that him and I have engaged in such activities after you arrived, they are entirely false.¡±

    This addition did nothing to change the look on Yenra''s face, but she did let out the breath she had been holding. Linara could almost feel the unsaid words of anger in the air. ¡°I thank you for your...restraint. However, this does pose an issue going forward.¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡±

    Upon hearing this, Yenra''s eyebrows rose. ¡°Oh? You agree?¡±

    ¡°I have no desire to stand by and see the man I love give himself to another woman.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°I heard your people were prideful, but I did not expect that. So, about finding a replacement trainer and bodyguard. I have an individual in mind for this role, from my kingdom.¡±

    ¡°I also have a person in mind, from this very kingdom. I will defer to your highness''s choice if they can prove to me they are more than just a political appointment. Otherwise I will suggest my intended replacement to the prince directly.¡±

    Yenra tilted her head, suspicious. ¡°And what is your idea of proof?¡±

    ¡°A trial of combat.¡±

    The princess''s neutral expression turned sour again. ¡°Yes, of course.¡±

    ¡°I think it would be a grand piece of entertainment leading up to your wedding, would it not?¡± Linara suggested, smiling. ¡°A one on one fight in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of spectators, showing one of the best fighters from your kingdom?¡±

    Her frown deepened. ¡°That is a wonderful idea. We will have to present it to the king. Surely it isn''t too late to add such an attraction to the schedule.¡±

    ¡°Well then, I am glad we are in agreement. Will that be all?¡±

    ¡°Of course. You may leave.¡±

    Linara bowed, spun, and walked out of the chamber. She could hear Yenra fall back into her cushioned chair before the door closed behind her. With a smile on her face, she walked back towards her room.

    Two days later, Linara and Senral walked down the path outside the castle, side by side, towards the larger training grounds. ¡°What are you so happy about?¡± Senral asked.

    ¡°I had a talk with Princess Yenra the other day, and we''ve come to a bit of an understanding.¡±

    Senral let out a single laugh. ¡°I find that difficult to believe.¡±

    ¡°It''s true, and if I can get along with that woman, you should be able to do so as well.¡±

    He let out a sigh. ¡°It''s not that I can''t get along with her, she just isn''t appealing to me.¡±

    Linara stepped ahead, turning to face him while walking backwards. ¡°Oh, what don''t you like about her?¡±

    ¡°She''s short and weak. I would prefer a woman that can beat me in a fight.¡±

    The smile on Linara''s face grew wider. The greed was still there, but she had other plans today. ¡°You have to look at the positives of those traits.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°She may be short and weak but she is also large and soft. Gentle. Delicate.¡±

    Senral frowned. ¡°What''s large about her? She''s tiny.¡±

    ¡°Her breasts.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Linara leaned towards him, looking directly into his eyes. ¡°Those big round things on her chest, my dear prince. Her boobs. Her massive mammaries. Her udders. Her tits, to put it bluntly. Those things that she shows off with every outfit in her wardrobe. The bouncing breasts under which her heart beats as she breathes rapidly with the thought of boldly baring them before her-¡±

    As she went on and on, his face grew considerably redder, until he finally had enough of her. ¡°I get the picture, Linara.¡±

    However, Linara wanted one last jab at him. ¡°I am confident that in time you will end up with much more than just a picture of them, Senral.¡±

    That pushed him over the edge, sending him all the way back around, from a blushing, embarrassed boy to a fully proper member of the court. He stood up straight, his face going completely blank. ¡°I believe that is not the proper way to talk about the future queen, Lady Linara.¡±

    Still walking backwards, Linara bowed low to him. ¡°Of course, my Prince. I have truly overstepped the boundaries of proper etiquette. ¡° She spun around again, and fell in beside him. They walked in silence for several moments.

    ¡°If you have so many good things to say about her, why don''t you take her?¡±

    ¡°First of all, stealing the princess would make me an enemy of the kingdom, putting my livelihood in danger. Second, I love you far too much to ruin your wedding.¡±

    He stopped walking, and Linara once more turned to look back at him. ¡°I want very much to pull you to the side right here and-¡±

    ¡°I will break your arms if you do.¡±

    He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. ¡°Of course. I can''t attend my wedding in splints.¡±

    The two of them reached the training ground without further banter. As per Linara''s instructions, a mock corridor had been constructed, two wooden walls a bit over twice her height. Each half contained a number of ''doorways'', small arches to hide under. With the sky above and the dirt below, it gave off the impression of a wooden canyon more than an indoor hallway. Eight soldiers stood around, in full kit, looking at the formation oddly.

    ¡°Well, my Prince, I had devised a special training exercise for you today. You said you wanted a situation where you have an advantage, and so I will be fighting against you when you have a set of guards with you. Guards!¡± She called out, and the eight men immediately snapped to attention, forming ranks in front of her as the two of them stepped into the arena. They all bowed to the prince, who waved them back up.

    ¡°I have here one Sergeant Niffrem, here for some extra training, and seven members of his squad.¡± One of the soldiers saluted, followed by the rest. ¡°They will be acting as your guards. I will be acting as an assassin, out to kill you. The group of you will walk down this hallway, and at some point, I will attack you. If your team manages to kill me without letting me kill you, or you make it out of the hallway without dying, you win. If I kill you, then obviously I win, even if I die in the process.¡±

    ¡°It does seem like I have the advantage here.¡±

    ¡°Then I will leave you to discuss a strategy with your team, and put myself in position. When you wish to start, simply walk through the hallway.¡± She slapped one of the two sides of the construction, then stepped behind the supports on the outside.

    The entryway to the practice hallway left her out of their view, so she jumped upwards, crawling between the supports. When the group started down the hallway, four of them in front, four behind, with Senral right in the middle, Linara hauled herself over the top and fell directly behind him, landing with a crash. It was not silent, or stealthy, but she grabbed her knife ¨C still in it''s sheath ¨C and dragged it across Senral''s neck from behind. ¡°First point to me.¡± She said, as the solders finished turning and started to take a step towards her.

    The next time, the eight of them crowded closely around him, not giving her space to drop from above. Linara was not positioned above, instead coming in from the side, through one of the ''doors'' in the hallway, shoving into the group from the side. One of the men tripped, bringing two others down with him, and Linara poked Senral with the tip of her spear as he was struggling to turn towards her with the guards standing so close to him. ¡°Second point.¡±

    The contest continued this way, Linara scoring five points in a row before they managed to bring her down. At the end of the practice session the score was eight to three in Linara''s favor. The soldiers were frustrated, tired, and on the edge of paranoia from checking every hiding spot in the hallway. Senral was rather upset himself. Linara smiled the entire time as she repeatedly ''killed'' him.

    ¡°So where is the real you, in all of this?¡±

    ¡°I''m dealing with the first assassin. We''re locked in an epic battle, the likes of which would be sung by every bard in the land, were anyone but the two of us there for it. You ran away, meeting up with this group of your loyal men, only to find there was a second assassin.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± He let out a sigh. ¡°Could you look a little less happy to murder me?¡±

    ¡°I''m having my revenge on you for marrying another woman.¡±

    The Crown Prince rolled his eyes.

 Chapter 4: Dreams and Nightmares - 1

    It had the hazy feeling of a dream. The details weren''t all there. Objects came into focus, but everything beyond them stayed in the fog. Ferene sat on a chair set on top of a platform. To her left stood Tullund ¨C or rather, a man with Tullund''s head, of the approximate height as Tullund. He wore a cloth around his waist, his entire upper body on display. For her, specifically, it seemed. Ferene idly stroked the too-perfect muscles of his right arm, smiling to herself. She knew he was hers, the knowledge invaded her head. She knew it was a dream because she wasn''t in control. She was herself, but not herself. She watched herself from inside, unable to control her actions, feeling the feelings and hearing the thoughts of another person in her body.

    A man stood in the room in front of her, and her position on her throne let her look down at him. He wore a fancy suit, though she didn''t know what was fancy about it. He placed two bags on the floor, they jingled with the sound of coins.

    ¡°Is this all you have for me?¡± She asked, frowning at him. She stopped stroking the dream-Tullund''s arm as she leaned forward. ¡°I would hope that your superiors would have sent more.¡±

    The man fidgeted nervously. ¡°Th-this is the amount I was told you agreed upon. To not attack any goods transported for my organization.¡±

    Ferene stood up, stepping down from the platform. A knife materialized in her hand. ¡°Of course, we can agree on an amount, but it''s always nice when someone gives you a bit extra, isn''t it? You show me a favor or two, so that I know you respect me and mine.¡± She smiled at him, showing her teeth, as she walked slowly in a circle around him.

    ¡°I-I...I have a set amount of bribes, for you, and other leaders along this route. If I were to give you extra, someone else would be shorted.¡±

    Spinning forward, Ferene stepped directly next to the man, her knife almost touching his eye. He flinched back. ¡°I''m sure one or more of those groups is small enough that you can bully them around a little, can''t you? I''m very much aware of the private army your organization is building. Perhaps you could give someone a smaller amount, and tell them to be grateful you are trying to avoid conflict instead of simply removing them from the roads you use. You can at least pretend to have that sort of confidence, can''t you?¡±

    ¡°W-well...I suppose that''s a possibility...I wasn''t told to do anything like that but, maybe, there''s one or two potential groups that could be intimidated and given a smaller cut.¡±

    ¡°Perfect!¡± Ferene grinned, twirling backwards, the knife vanishing from her hand. She stopped next to the overly-muscular Tullund, leaning against him as he reached out to catch her. Tossing an arm over his shoulder, she waved the man in the suit away with her other hand. ¡°Go get the rest of what you owe me, and be on your way. I''m tired of looking at you.¡±

    She heard his footsteps walking away as she stared up into Tullund''s face, her hand tracing the line of his jaw. He smiled down at her. ¡°Was that wise?¡±

    ¡°If the smaller groups get upset, we can absorb them. Strength in numbers. If they start fighting, the company exhausts resources and is in a worse position against us, and also reveals how organized and trained their troops are. It''s a great position for us.¡±

    ¡°Unless they learn we are the ones who set it up and turn on us instead.¡± His hand gripped her shoulder as she leaned into him, her head resting against his bare chest. She could feel her heart racing, and could hear his doing the same.

    ¡°That would be unfortunate, but luckily in our business nobody has a reputation for honesty, and outlaws hate companies more than each other. I think I can lie my way through such a situation. You''re talking too much, though.¡± Reaching upwards, she pulled his head down towards hers, her focus entirely on his lips.

    ¡°I have something interesting for you, mistress.¡± A new voice said.

    Sighing with disappointment, Ferene swung to her feet, tapping Tullund''s lips with her finger before turning to look at the new arrival. A man with a face she paid no attention to stood next to a short woman wearing a baggy coat. ¡°What''s this?¡±

    ¡°Found a wagon, me and the boys went to jump it, but this lady surrendered to us immediately. Seems almost like she was waiting for us. Her story is that she ran a scam ¨C seduced a rich man in the city, begged him to start a new life elsewhere, and when he sold everything and they were on the road together, she stabbed him and dumped the body.¡±

    ¡°And, of course, this sort of scheme is perfect for us, isn''t it?¡± Ferene walked directly towards the girl, reaching out, pulling the coat off of her. The woman underneath was beautiful. Just like Tullund, she was perhaps too perfect. Sharp eyes, a small, cute mouth. A full chest, exposed by the low neckline of her dress. Ferene smiled down at her, and the girl stared upwards into her eyes. ¡°How would you like a job?¡± She asked, her hand sliding down the girl''s black hair.

    Ferene woke up, a weight pushing down on her chest. She shook her head, trying to rub her eyes, only to find more weight on her arm. She took a deep breath, and looked around.

    The dream wasn''t over. Slowly, she extracted herself from the tangle of arms and legs. The overly-attractive Tullund was sleeping on her left, his arm thrown across her, and the nameless girl was cuddled up against her right side, Ferene''s arm trapped underneath. When she finally got out of the bed, she smiled as she looked at them. The dream-details weren''t there. She smiled because she remembered the three of them, together, before going to sleep, but she couldn''t remember a single detail of what actually happened. It had been good, apparently. Ferene turned, pushing aside a curtain and walking through the doorway, out of the room.

    She didn''t remember how she got into the next room. It was a chamber in a cave, a low ceiling, walls held up by wooden supports. An old mine. Her breathing got faster as she turned. A woman sat on a chair, sewing. Long yellow hair, blue eyes, a small crooked nose. There was a bruise on her left cheek. Which one had that been? Ferene didn''t remember. ¡°You got hurt again.¡±

    ¡°You hurt someone again.¡±

    Ferene looked away. ¡°I''m good at hurting people, mother.¡±

    ¡°I never wanted you to hurt people, but every day you were fighting the other children, even some of the adults, when you could. You would come to me and brag about it. How you won. How you were strong. And now look at you. Killing and killing. You used to be covered in scrapes, now you''re covered in other people''s blood. I wasn''t happy when you told me about how you won your play fights, am I supposed to be happy now that you are murdering people? Should I tell you how wonderful the trail of bodies you leave behind you is?¡±

    ¡°Maybe you shouldn''t have raised me around a group of thieves and killers!¡± Ferene yelled at her mother, and the woman just smiled at her. Ferene hated that smile. It was fake. It was fake in real life, when she was a child, and it was fake in this dream. Her mother never meant it when she smiled. She smiled because she had given up.

    ¡°And you haven''t given up? You were offered a way out, and you went right back in. Are you punishing yourself, or do you just like it?¡±

    ¡°You did this!¡± She yelled, clenching her fist. ¡°You were the one who put me in that place! You gave me up to those people, before I was even born! Why did you do that? How could you do that?¡±

    The woman sighed, putting down the needle she had been holding. She looked directly at Ferene. ¡°I''m dead. I only exist in your head. I can''t tell you anything you don''t already know.¡± She vanished.

    Ferene stood still for a moment, then dropped to her knees, her hands reaching at the air in front of her. ¡°You left me again.¡± She whispered. ¡°I never wanted you to leave me. I wanted you to be proud of me, but you never were. Then you left me.¡±

    She didn''t cry. Even in a dream, she couldn''t let herself cry. Not anymore. She punched the ground in front of her, dirt covering stone. It didn''t hurt. Dreams didn''t hurt, except when they did. She couldn''t feel pain in her hands, but she could feel something behind her. She looked over her shoulder. Something stood behind her, a towering figure with no face. She looked up into the haze of its head. Features were there, but she couldn''t make them out. Eyes, hair, a nose, a mouth. There were no details. Except the ears. The hateful ears. The ears of her father. A non-human creature.

    ¡°I hate you! I HATE YOU! YOU LEFT US!¡± She screamed at him. She was on her feet. For the first time in the dream, she was aware of what she was wearing. She had her armor on, her sword in her hands. She faced her father, swinging. She hated everything about him, everything he was. She knew nothing about him. She didn''t know who he was, what he had done. He was the source of all her problems. He was the source of her existence. She hated herself and she hated him.

    Again, she woke up. The details were right this time. The smell of dried straw and farm animals. She had paid a pittance to sleep in a barn. No naked bodies flanked her as she pulled herself to her feet. She was already dressed. Her armor and her sword were the only things laying beside her. She collected them, and pushed the side door of the barn open, stepping into the night. She was not transported to the abandoned mine. The sun had yet to rise, the sky black with a scattering of white stars. Ferene sighed. She hated dreaming.

    Putting on her armor, she started practicing. A collection of swings, her body moving, following the sword. Power and control. Metal slicing air. She breathed in, swung, and breathed out. She twirled and ducked, dodging and parrying invisible attacks, swinging at invisible foes. She focused only on that, pushing the dream from her mind.

    As the sun rose, she came to a halt. Everything hurt. How long had she been doing this? Standing in a field, panting, sweat soaking her clothes. What was the purpose of it all? She could have ran away from it all, if she wanted. The dream was right. Every time she had a chance to stop, she avoided it.

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    The other part of the dream was also right. Tempting. Taunting. She was strong. Stronger than the people she killed. Why did she need to kill when she could conquer? She could build her own group, steal things she wanted, intimidate people into serving her. Take what she wanted, who she wanted. Gain followers and make entire cities serve her.

    Until the she''d wind up running naked through a forest, chased by someone angry at the kind of person she had become. Maybe it would be Linara, chasing her down just as she had chased the woman all those nights ago. If anyone found the body at the bottom of that well, they wouldn''t know how many things the woman had stolen, how many followers, how long her reach and influence were. Ferene would end the same way. Dropping her sword, she sank down to her knees.

    Forward. She needed to keep moving. A dream wasn''t going to make her stop, no matter how many options it suggested. There were too many wrongs in the world for her to right, too many evil people for her to kill, but that wouldn''t stop her. Every step mattered. She grabbed her sword, pushing herself to her feet.

    Covered in sweat or dirt or blood, she would not stop. She would find someone else to kill. There was always someone else taking advantage of the weak, the helpless. There were always people like her mother who would never fight back, no matter how much they were abused. For those people, she needed to fight. To kill.

    There was no road leading north of Cefgras. Instead, Ferene followed the road west, until she came upon farmland. She walked north then, off the road, crossing through the fields, keeping the mountains in front of her. When she came upon a farmhouse after several days of travel, she asked if could sleep in the barn.

    Going out of her way and asking felt strange, unfamiliar. She never would have done that before. She also never would have had such a strange dream before. Sitting on a barrel of straw in the barn, Ferene rubbed her eyes. Her body was still sore, she was tired even though it was early, and she didn''t want to don her armor and start walking across the fields again. Maybe the mountains could wait another day.

    A young boy entered the barn, noisily pushing the front door open. The owner''s son walked in, ignoring Ferene in her corner. The barn was split into two halves, one side, where Ferene sat, filled with barrels of hay and some loose straw ¨C the owner told Ferene she could gather this to use as a bed ¨C and the other half divided into pens occupied by several pigs. The young boy went from pen to pen, pouring grain into each one, mumbling to the pigs as he went by. At the end, he turned around and walked directly towards Ferene. ¡°Ma say yecan ''ave brefist wit us, if ye wan.¡± He stopped quite a distance away, and gave her an awkward smile. She nodded back at him, and he turned to leave.

    Breakfast in the farmhouse, with the family of three, involved a lot more food than at any of the roadside inns Ferene had stayed at. The owner''s wife filled the table with plates of eggs, bacon, and ham, none of which interested Ferene. She realized that it would have been smart to ask Linara if all Hatharen became sick after eating animals, but it was far too late for that now. She accepted the cooked oats and sliced potatoes, eating silently as the three of them talked about various things. There was a gap in one of the fences that the man planned to go and repair, the child was told he needed to bring all the chickens inside earlier, the woman talked about having to fix one of the boards on the back porch, then mentioned that there had been less people on the road recently, at which all three of them turned to look at Ferene.

    ¡°Didn''t see anyone on my way here. Is that unusual?¡±

    The man shared a long, silent look with his wife, as the boy started chattering. ¡°Road usual ''ave plenny o yerds onnit, this tima. Iffit ain''t, is cause the scummers are out, innit da?¡±

    The boy¡¯s father glared at him. ¡°Say that again, properly this time. We are going to send you to school in Cefgras when you are old enough, and they won''t allow you to talk that way there.¡±

    ¡°All me friends talk thaway, ain''t no prollem.¡±

    The glare became sharper. ¡°Repeat what you said to our guest, properly, and I''ll give you a gift. If you don''t, I''ll make you walk the pigs tomorrow. And don''t call them yerds, it''s rude.¡±

    The boy''s expression brightened at the mention of a gift, and then stiffened when he was told he''d have to walk the pigs. Turning back to Ferene, he took a deep breath.

    ¡°The road usually has merchants on it. If they aren''t on the road, the...the thieves chased them off.¡±

    ¡°Good lad. Finish eating, take care of the chickens, and then come back for your present.¡±

    It took the child very little time to finish the food on his plate, stow it, and run outside, stepping loudly on the loose board outside the back door of the house. His father turned to Ferene. ¡°Group of riffraff showed up a year ago, claiming this entire area was their territory. They come by here every few months demanding money or an equivalent amount of food, in exchange for their ''protection''. I pay them, just as everyone else, but we all know they are just thieves. Armed thieves, and enough of them that even if all the farmers out here got together we couldn''t beat them. No authority in this area so we just have to let it happen. You''ve got swords and armor, but don''t go making any trouble for us, alright? If you do anything to them, they''ll think some of us put you up to it, and we''ll be the ones that suffer for it. Just be on your way and nobody will get hurt. We can afford to give up a little, at least for now, until it sorts itself out.¡±

    Ferene clenched her jaw. Somehow, he had known what she wanted to do, and told her not to. He seemed to think she wouldn''t be able to kill all of them. Before, she would have ignored him and gone after them anyway. Not now, though. She simply nodded, and took another bite of oats.

    The gift turned out to be a small book. The boy found Ferene sitting in her corner of the barn, trotting over to her holding it in both hands, a wide smile on his face. ¡°Da went to mend the fence, and Ma is busy so she told me to ask if you want to read with me.¡±

    ¡°I never learned how to read.¡±

    He stopped, his smile dropping as he looked at her in confusion. ¡°But you got a sword an everything.¡±

    ¡°It was important for me to learn to use a sword. Wasn''t important for me to learn to read, so nobody taught me.¡±

    He frowned for several moments, looking at her, then at the book, then back at her. Finally, he smiled again. ¡°I can read to you. Da and Ma say they will read it witme but they jus ''ave me read an'' correct me when I get things wrong. So I can just read to ya.¡± His excitement leaked into his voice, and he started chattering quickly again. Ferene found herself smiling back at him. Nobody had ever offered to read to her before, and his mood was infectious. She gestured for him to sit next to her. He climbed up on the barrel of hay and opened the book. It was large, thin, and filled with pictures. He pointed to the words on the first page, and started reading, talking slow and properly.

    The Crow and the Rabbit.

    The crow and the rabbit both live near the farm.

    The crow can fly, and the rabbit can hop.

    The crow and the rabbit are wild things.

    The crow makes nests, and the rabbit digs holes.

    The crow and the rabbit are very different.

    The crow is black, and the rabbit is brown.

    The crow and the rabbit both fear the hawk.

    The crow flies away, and the rabbit hides.

    The crow and the rabbit will come back when the hawk is gone.

    The crow and the rabbit are not the same.

    A crow will never be a rabbit.

    A rabbit will never be a crow.

    Even so, they both live near the farm and they both fear the hawk.

    Each line was alone on page, with a drawing of the animals. The boy closed the book at the end, then turned it over, back to the front.

    ¡°What does it mean?¡± Ferene asked.

    ¡°Dunno.¡± He said. ¡°Da doesn''t like the rabbits much. They steal food, but he says without them, the bigger creatures that eat them would go hungry. Says it''s better to have rabbits around for the foxes to eat than have the foxes trying to eat the chickens.¡±

    The story didn''t make sense to Ferene at first, and that didn''t help at all. Were all books nonsensical like that?

    ¡°I have to go back now. Ma says you''ll leave tomorrow. Is that true?¡±

    ¡°Probably tonight.¡±

    ¡°Will ya come to the house an see me ''fore ya go?¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°Promise ya will.¡±

    Ferene paused, thinking. ¡°I promise, I''ll come to the house before I leave.¡±

    On her way to the house that evening, Ferene heard voices and stopped to listen. She hadn''t heard any yelling before, and the new voice didn''t match the family. Slowly, she crept closer, as silently as she could with all of her gear on.

    ¡°You only have yourselves to blame. If people are hunting us, it''s because you lousy grubbers hired them to. So, you''ll have to pay up for that.¡± The new voice said.

    ¡°I''m telling you, we don''t know what you''re talking about, and you already stopped by here two weeks ago. We gave you what we owe.¡± That was the man''s voice, slightly shaking. Ferene carefully stepped up onto the back porch, careful to avoid the loose board.

    ¡°Don''t care what you say you do or don''t know. What I know is that one of my friends came back instead of four, and he says the other three got killed by some bounty hunters. Now, who would have hired bounty hunters out here, if not but you dirt grubbers? We had a good deal going on, but now people are getting hurt. If you can afford to be paying bounty hunters to kill my friends, you can afford to give us an extra cut to make up for our losses.¡±

    ¡°If we pay you twice as much we''re going to have problems once the snows come.¡±

    ¡°You know, that makes sense. A lot of sense. Have a growing kid to feed, and you two as well, don''t you? Maybe thinking of making another brat, and will need to feed that one as well? I know you grubbers love to have as many kids as you can. So, I''ll help you out. I''ll take the kid off your hands. If he can hold a shovel he can hold a sword, as I like to say. Then you can pay us properly, since you''ll have one less mouth to feed. Works out well, doesn''t it?¡±

    ¡°No! Please don''t take my son! We''ll give you the food and money, just leave him."

    Ferene heard a yelp from inside. She stood next to the back door, her entire body tense. She wanted more than anything to run inside and start swinging her sword, but she had agreed not to.

    ¡°No? You don''t get to tell me what to do. I''m taking him, and you''re paying me to do it. As I said before, I''m helping you.¡±

    ¡°Help!¡± Ferene heard the boy cry out.

    ¡°Nobody is here to help you, kid.¡±

    ¡°HELP!¡± This time, it was the mother.

    ¡°Shut your wife up.¡±

    ¡°I hope someone kills you.¡± The man said, loudly. ¡°I hope someone cuts you down tonight, if violence is all you know.¡± That was all Ferene needed. Pulling her short sword from her belt, she pushed the back door open and stepped into the house.

    ¡°Oh, and who is going to do that? Not you, that''s for sure, dumb dirt grubber.¡± A tall man, taller than Ferene, was holding a knife in one hand, and the boy''s wrist in the other. Ferene was looking at him from the side, and he was waving the knife in front of him, probably at the boy''s parents, who were out of her line of sight. The boy turned, looking directly at Ferene, his eyes wide.

    ¡°Help! Help me!¡± He yelled, and started struggling, grabbing the man''s hand with his own.

    The man pushed the boy to the ground, roughly. ¡°You little-¡± The words were barely out of his mouth when Ferene drove her sword into his chest.

    ¡°There are three more of them outside.¡± The farmer said, holding his wife. The woman was staring at the scene in front of her, her face pale. Ferene nodded, and opened the door.

    There were three others outside, standing around a horse loaded with bags. Ferene ran at them, not even bothering to switch to her other sword. They turned to look at her, but it was too late. She drove her short sword into the first one''s gut. The second drew his axe and Ferene pulled her sword off her back, holding it in both hands. The third turned and ran, pulling the horse with him.

    The one with the axe stepped forward, swinging wide. Ferene also stepped forward, into a range where neither of their weapons were effective, and smacked her head into his nose. He stumbled back, and she quickly kicked him in the leg, dropping him onto his rear. In a single swing of her sword, she separated his head from his body, then ran after the last one.

    Ferene specialized in running, and this man stood no chance of outrunning her, especially when he was dragging the old, poorly tended to packhorse behind him. Ferene caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around and pinning him to the ground. The horse kept running down the road, but she didn''t care.

    ¡°Where is your camp?¡±

    ¡°I-I won''t tell you! Just let me go!¡±

    Pulling out her knife, she stabbed the man in his upper arm. He screamed. Ferene ignored it. ¡°Where is your camp?¡±

    ¡°You''re crazy!¡±

    She twisted the knife. ¡°Where?¡±

    ¡°Two days walk down the road, there''s a trail that leads to an old mine! It''s there! Please just let me go!¡±

    Ferene pulled the knife out of his arm and slit his throat.

 Chapter 4: Dreams and Nightmares - 2

    It might have taken two days of walking to reach the trail leading to the mine, but Ferene ran it in less than half the time. Slowing to a walk as she reached the signpost at the side of the road, she felt that same dull ache from the previous morning. Her entire body hurt, her legs were sore, and she breathed deeply and slowly.

    The difference being, this time, it felt good.

    No more coordinated soldiers blocking her every movement. No more watchful eyes of Linara, judging her as she cut down the rich man''s guards. No city streets, no fancy hotel rooms, none of it. Filthy, desperate criminals that would turn on their comrades at even the of a hint of gain for themselves. Dirt roads, open fields, and Ferene, the hunter, alone. She steadied her breathing and drew her sword, walking off the road a distance away from the trail. How many of them were there? Four less than there were yesterday morning. One of them had mentioned bounty hunters killing three others. Were the rest of them hiding in their hole, waiting to ambush anyone who came inside? Or were they out, seeking revenge? Unlike when she worked with Tullund, Ferene had no information on the state of things. Numbers? Habits? Layout?

    Yet she found this exciting. Through the pain, she found her blood pumping, her heart pounding. The path lead towards a small hill, curving behind it. Ferene slowed her pace, walking silently around the hill the other way. Sparse grass jutted up between rocks, a far cry from the farmland on the other side of the road behind her. She could hear and feel the rocks crunching under her feet. The sound would not carry, but it felt good. A reminder that she was not on the main path, she was not following the footsteps or seeking the approval of anyone, instead making her own path, finding her own revenge, creating her own justice.

    She did not make it all the way around the hill, coming across another entrance less than halfway. A wooden frame set into the side of the mound, the path leading to it completely grown over with grass. Ferene ducked down to peer into the half-covered opening, as both the roof was sagging inwards and a good amount of dirt covered the bottom. Her eyes could not penetrate the darkness, but that only meant the path was not completely blocked off. Bent over halfway, Ferene stepped across the pile of dirt and carefully put her foot down inside the tunnel. The ground inside seemed solid, so she took another step, and another.

    The solid walls on either side of her brought a sense of nostalgia. She grew up in a place not unlike this one ¨C a group of outlaws making their den in the upper levels of an abandoned mine. That had been an entire community, the ambitious leader taking in desperate people to be the so-called camp helpers. Ferene''s mother was one such helper. Ferene herself had been born and raised in the tunnels, along with several other children. It could have been an isolated community of people working together, away from society.

    Except that the people living in those tunnels would leave to search the roads, killing and stealing for their community to survive. As Ferene walked through the darkness, she wondered if this place was trying the same sort of setup. Children could be taken to be sold, or used as helpers. Or taught how to fight and kill.

    The walls on either side of her were tight, close enough that she could not even extend her arms fully. She held her short sword in one hand, and kept her other pressed against the side of the tunnel. It was a straight path, no branches, and Ferene kept walking, into total darkness, until she saw light ahead. She stopped completely, not even breathing, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Right now, she had all the advantages of surprise, but if anyone saw her, she was trapped in a tight space, not able to move at her full speed, an easy target.

    Slowly, she advanced, taking a long breath. She started to make out voices as she approached the light, the path curving to the side, light filling the tunnel. At the edge of the darkness, she stopped, leaning into the light just enough to look towards the source.

    A large chamber, almost as big as the dining room back at the farmhouse, held a small table with a lamp on it. A woman sat at the table, scribbling on paper, while a man paced back and forth. Neither of them were armed. Ferene pulled herself back out of the light and listened.

    ¡°I told ya tha last four times ya asked, they gon wait us out, kill anyone which leaves, and wait until there be none o us lef. Issa only plan tha make sense.¡±

    ¡°So get everyone together, go out, find them, and kill them. You knew how many of them there were, and now you know where they are. You outnumber them. What''s the problem?¡±

    ¡°Tha problem issat ya think ya smart but ya doan know bout fightin. Ya know math an all that but what do ya think will happen if all of us get together? Big group milling about? Against trained soldiers? We''d win, o course, but it ain''t gon be bloodless an my people ain''t goin out knowin they gon be killed.¡±

    ¡°So take a group big enough to get it done and leave the rest, then.¡±

    Ferene wanted one of them to say how many were here and how many were out. She was still vulnerable, if undetected, in the tunnel. The two people seemed to not be aware that they were exposed this way. Ferene remembered exploring unused tunnels as a child, and the adults telling her to stay away from them, not knowing if they were stable or not.

    Poking her head around the bend again, Ferene glanced into the room. Neither of the two were facing her, but it would take her several seconds of walking through the tunnel to get into the room.

    ¡°An what, leave ya ere, alone? Knowin I''ll be comin back with some o my best dead? I ain''t stupid.¡±

    Ferene took her first step into the light, her fingers tight around the hilt of her short sword. The tunnel widened, allowing her to see into the room, but it wasn''t big enough for her to be swinging her regular weapon around, and it wasn''t tall enough for her to run freely. She desperately wished Linara had taught her how to throw that knife so accurately.

    Step by step, she walked forward, completely exposed, hoping neither of them turned to her. The woman was still scribbling at her paper, her back to the man. He had stopped pacing, turning to talk at the back of her head. Ferene saw a knife hanging from his belt, but no other weapons, and the woman seemed to be entirely unarmed.

    When she reached the mouth of the tunnel, only a few arm''s lengths separated Ferene from him, a distance she could cross nearly instantly. He didn''t even have the time to turn at the sound of her suddenly heavy footsteps before she plunged her sword into the top of his spine. The woman stood up, turning to face Ferene as she dropped the body to the floor.

    ¡°Please! Please don''t kill me! I''ll give you whatever you want!¡± She adjusted fast, throwing her hands up, palms out. Stepping forward, Ferene put a hand over her mouth, pushing the tip of her still-bloody sword against the woman''s stomach.

    ¡°I''m going to let go, and you are going to very quietly tell me how many others are here. If you scream, you''ll be dead and I''ll be gone before they can catch me.¡± She put her face right next to the woman''s, looking directly into her wide eyes. She was afraid, trembling, but not witless. Ferene pulled her hand back, but kept her sword where it was.

    ¡°Fourteen inside, and more on the outside.¡±

    ¡°How many outside, and where?¡±

    The woman hesitated. ¡°If I tell you that, you''ll kill me. Let me live and I''ll help you.¡±

    Ferene sighed. All she wanted to do was run the woman through, but it seemed the woman knew that. She briefly considered doing it anyway, before stopping herself.

    What would Linara do here?

    Ferene punched the woman in the side of her head.

    She immediately fell over, clearly rattled from the blow. Ferene turned away, using her sword to cut the man''s now-bloody shirt off his body. Luckily for her, he also had a belt on, with a large, fancy-looking buckle. Ferene sliced that off and tossed it away. Turning back to the woman, who was still leaning against the wall, holding her head, Ferene grabbed her hands and used the belt to tie them together, then stuffed one of the pieces of the shirt in her mouth.

    Though it sickened her, Ferene knew how to play these games. The woman was clearly important to this group, and while the dead man should have been the leader, whoever else wanted to take over would want her alive. So, Ferene had a hostage that they would hesitate to kill.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Ferene pushed the woman towards the other entrance to the chamber. She looked back at her captor, and Ferene gave her another push, walking forward behind her. The woman figured out what she wanted, and walked into the tunnel grumbling. Ferene had people to kill, and she was not going to leave this one behind to find a way to escape, or worse, stab her in the back.

    The first encounter was unlucky. A man turned a corner in front of the two of them, bumping into Ferene''s hostage. This pushed the woman into Ferene, making her stumble backwards for a moment. This gave the man time to draw his sword and swing wildly as he started yelling. Ferene brought her own weapon up, knocking his away and to the side. The woman scrambled backwards, getting behind Ferene. She parried another swing from the man and grabbed his wrist, twisting it, causing him to drop his weapon. He swung his other arm at her, but she stepped behind him, twisting his arm further. He cried out in pain for a moment before she slit his throat.

    More voices filled the tunnels. Ferene looked over her shoulder, but did not see her captive, only the signs of her escape. Footsteps quickly approached, and Ferene turned back, peeking around the corner to see three more of the scum running towards her.

    The next several minutes were filled with blood and violence. Ferene stepped around the corner to meet the three, killing the first of them instantly by driving her sword into his eye socket before he could react. The woman beside him kept running forward, while the other man stopped, leaving them surrounding Ferene. Pulling her sword free of the first man, she charged at the second while the woman was still moving to her side, causing her to move too far away to be an immediate threat. The man blocked with his shield, and Ferene turned away from him, ducking under a swing from her other opponent''s axe. The attack missed, and the weapon struck the rock wall with the force of the two-handed swing. Ferene stabbed upwards as the woman recoiled from the blow.

    The man with the shield held his sword up, aiming the curved tip at her as he slowly walked backwards. She advanced, keeping the same pace, unsure if he was trying to draw her after him into a trap, or stalling for time. The retreating stare down continued for several paces, ending as he turned and dashed down a side tunnel. Ferene bolted after him, quickly catching up to him as he entered a larger chamber. She failed to drive her sword through his back, instead knocking him down with the force of the off-center impact. He fell face-first to the ground, and she tried again, stabbing downwards as he lay there.

    After making sure he was dead, she turned and looked around the room. She was not alone. A boy sat against the far wall, dressed in dirty rags, staring wide-eyed at her. The room had no other exits, but several beds scattered around. He couldn''t have been more than a few years older than the farmer''s son. Ferene smiled at him. ¡°I''m not going to hurt you.¡± He looked at her, then at the body on the ground, then back at her. ¡°You want to get out here? I can get you out of here. I just have to kill the rest of them.¡± She waited for him to nod, then turned towards the entrance. Looking down the tunnel, she waited, watching. ¡°I killed four men and a woman, and another woman, the smart one, ran away. Can you tell me how many there still are?¡±

    At one point, she had been in that boy''s position, living a horrible life controlled by criminals, being trained to fight and kill just as they did. Every day she woke up, thinking only about how to prove to them that they shouldn''t kill her, or use her as a distraction. A way to prove to them that she was useful.

    Those thoughts came slightly too late, as she felt the knife slide into her flesh, glancing off her rib as she realized her mistake. She spun, sticking her arm out, trying to bat him away before he could try anything else. Ferene felt her fist connect with something, and felt something break under the force.

    She saw him lying on the ground, his head tilted to the side, not moving. She limped the few steps towards him, the dead man''s knife still in her, and crouched down next to the boy. His eyes didn''t follow her. She brought her hand up to the side of his head, gently pushing against the side of it. She felt his shattered skull move under her fingers.

    Time seemed to stop. The sharp pain in her side grew dull. She took one deep breath, then another. The boy transformed before her eyes, growing younger, becoming the farmer''s son, wearing his clothes rather than the dirty rags. Then he became a young girl, orange hair spread out beneath her, pointed ears jutting out from the sides of her head. Ferene blinked as she saw herself, and the body switched again, becoming a third boy, of the same age as the first, with pure white hair standing out against the dirt floor. Ferene scrambled to her feet, turning away from the sight of it. The pain in her side came back, sharp, overwhelming. She gasped for air as she took a step towards the room''s exit. She needed to run, to get out of this place. She couldn''t control her legs, tripping over her own feet as she fell to the ground, just like her victims. Her vision blurred, twisting, and all turned to black.

    No.

    The thought stood out in her mind, above all the pain, above all the hate. Hate for the people she killed, hate for the people that made her into her current self, hate for the world for letting it happen, and hate for herself. Through all of that the single thought prevailed. She opened her eyes, grit her teeth, and pushed herself to her knees. Ferene wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the dagger, covered in her own blood, and yanked it out.

    She screamed as the pain doubled, but refused to fall over, refused to pass out. Grabbing her sword, she stood up, leaning against the wall for support. If she died here, before finishing the job, what did it all matter? She needed to stop these people. The farmer and his wife and their son, those people needed her. People who didn''t know how to fight, didn''t know how to kill. Innocent people needed the protection of ruthless murderers or they would end up dead. Ferene took a step forward, out of the room, leaving the two bodies behind. Then she took another. Slow, painful, agonizing steps, fueled by pure anger. ¡°I''LL KILL YOU ALL!¡± She yelled into the tunnel. It would be less painful for them to come to her. The less energy she spent, the better. One at a time or all together, she would kill them.

    Someone appeared in front of her. A weapon swung, but she batted it out of the way, stumbling forward onto her surprised opponent, grabbing with one arm as she thrust her sword forward with the other. One stab, then a second. She screamed as she killed the person, throwing the body to the ground. Everything hurt. She saw more people in front of her, their wide-eyed stares. She raised her weapon and took a step forward, but they turned and ran. She took a second step, the pain becoming worse, and then broke out into a run. Ferene specialized in running, nobody could outrun her.

    She got two full leaps before she stumbled, the pain stopping her, the agony unbearable as reached out for the wall, trying to prevent herself from falling again. Once more her vision twisted, and she tried to hold on to the hate, hold on to that thought that she would not fall.

    Dropping her short sword, she pulled the great sword off her back, driving the tip into the dirt ground, leaning on it. Step by step, she moved forward, stabbing her sword into the dirt, moving her feet, then ripping it out and repeating the process. She rounded the corner, and saw light ahead of her. Despite the pain, she moved faster. If there was one place she did not want to die, it was in an abandoned mine. She would not end up like her mother. Stab, step, yank, stab, step, yank. The path curved upwards towards the exit. Moving became harder, but Ferene pushed, moving faster.

    Stepping into the light, she found a confusing scene. The hill sloped gently down in front of her, littered with six clearly dead bodies. Clearly dead because other still alive bodies stood around staring up the hill at Ferene.

    ¡°They ran from that?¡±

    She heard a voice from down the hill. A woman stepped forward, waving an empty hand at her. She did not hold a weapon but was far from unarmed. Two short axes hung on her hips, and she was wearing a loose collection of red plates, connected by leather straps. She smiled at Ferene as she approached.

    ¡°What...happened? Who?¡± Talking hurt. Her whole body hurt at this point, but the pain in her side, right below her ribs, was the worst.

    ¡°Me an'' me crew were settin up to wait this lot out, having a nice stare at the guards outside, when five more of ''em came runnin out the tunnel, screamin bout a demon. That distracted the guards so we made our move. You should see yourself, you''ve got enough blood on you to be dead twice over.¡±

    Ferene sat down, hard. Her impact with the ground caused more pain, but she didn''t care at this point.

    Lana ¨C the captain of the bounty hunters - gave her the full story when the six of them reached the bounty hunter''s campsite. Lana''s team had set up the siege several days ago, after following a survivor of their first attack back and waiting for another group to leave. A bit of description confirmed Ferene killed that group on the road. The bounty hunters then ambushed the next group to leave, and were waiting for another, intent on slowly cutting down the numbers. If Ferene followed the path to the main entrance, she would have run into them.

    Lana was thrilled to hear Ferene''s part of the story, sending two of her people to try and track down the woman that escaped. With her wound bandaged, and surrounded by people who did not want to kill her, Ferene lay down and went to sleep.

    She woke up the next morning to the sound of Rauld, Lana''s second in command, banging a metal spoon against the side of a pan. ¡°Get ye mugs up! Food''s ready!¡±

    Looking around, Ferene saw that while Lana herself was already awake, the other three, two of which had been out to look for signs of the fleeing woman ¨C were just waking up. It seemed they did not find her, which was unfortunate.

    Ferene ate a meal of hard road bread, declining any parts of the birds they had caught. This got her a few odd looks, but was forgotten as the group started eating. Ferene watched them as she ate. Rauld might have been massive, taller than even Linara and with wide shoulders, but his movements were slow and precise. Yelt, a much smaller man that Ferene rarely saw talk, sat right next to him, their elbows nearly touching as the two moved. Across from them, a man and a woman, Bolen and Tessa, laughed as they ate, clearly very close. Tessa and Yelt were the two that had gone to look for tracks. Lana sat by herself, smiling as she ate. The five of them talked and joked and laughed. It was hard to imagine that over the last few days, they had slain ten or more of the bandits.

    Ferene found herself frowning. She could not let go of her hate ¨C even now she felt it, deep inside, just waiting to rise to the surface. Were they like her, hiding the same amount of rage? Or was this just how they were all the time? The question bothered her, and she couldn''t think of an answer, so she finished eating, stood up, and thanked them. She told them she dropped something in mine and was going to go get it.

    Ferene walked back to the mine, retrieved her sword, and started walking north.

    ¡°I figured you were leavin, since you didn''t say you would come back. I was plannin on offerin to take you on.¡±

    Ferene stopped, turning around. Of course, Lana stood behind her, grinning. ¡°On?¡±

    ¡°Join my team. Five of us could use another set of arms, especially if you can do that sort of thing alone. Think about what you could do with us helping.¡±

    Ferene stared down at her. Lana might be short, but she had broad shoulders and thick muscles. Without seeing them fight, Ferene wasn''t sure how skilled the group was, but it would be better than fighting alone again. With Tullund and with Linara the victories came easily, but when fighting alone she got captured before, and now nearly died. Her gaze shifted upwards, looking Lana in the face. Deep blue eyes under wild black hair. The day before, she had worn it in a ponytail, but today it hung free.

    At that moment Ferene remembered the boy she killed. The part of the story she didn''t tell them. She wanted to save a child. She turned her back on an enemy. She killed a child. Several failures in a row that she couldn''t share with them.

    ¡°There''s something I have to do, and there won''t be any business for you there.¡±

    ¡°The northern mountains? Does it have to do with your...heritage?¡±

    Ferene nodded. The way Linara fought, that was how she wanted to fight. However skilled Lana might be, Ferene could not believe that she was anywhere near Linara''s inhuman ability. That was the truth of it. Ferene was not human, not entirely. She would never, could never be human. Perhaps that was the problem. Her desire to go north felt even stronger now. The pain in her side was fading, the rate of her healing shocking the entire group of bounty hunters. Humans didn''t heal that fast, but Ferene did, another reminder of how different she was from them.

    ¡°If you ever come back this way, feel free to find us. You helped us out here, and we won''t forget that. I''d love to have you as part of my team.¡±

    ¡°I''ll remember that.¡± Ferene wanted to smile, but couldn''t bring herself to do it, so she just nodded again, then turned and resumed her journey to the north.

 Chapter 5: Unexpected Encounters - 1

    Crossing field after field, Ferene walked north, with no road to follow. This time, she did not stop at any farmsteads, choosing to rest in the shade of trees or large rocks whenever she could. The further north she went, the more sparse the trees became, and she found larger and larger rocks more frequently.

    At some point, Ferene saw the mountains. She didn''t know when she first saw them, because she did not recognize them as mountains. She realized something was strange about the clouds, but could not figure out what. Several days later the realization came to her that she did not see the sky under the clouds. The mountains reached all the way to the clouds, vanishing into them. An impossibly high wall of gray stone. Understanding the sight before her, she shivered. She''d never seen anything like that before.

    Putting those thoughts aside, she broke out into a full run, her feet slamming against the ground. Her first proper run since leaving the mine, it felt amazing. Her heart pounded with excitement as she ran, her eyes looking upwards towards the hidden peaks.

    The previous days of slow walking and healing suddenly felt not relaxing, but constraining. She could move like this, she was meant to move like this. Feeling the wind around her, the ground falling away under her. It did not last enough, as she came to a stop after an hour of running. She could have run another few hours, but she didn''t need to. In front of her lay a dirt road, running parallel to the wall, beyond it the ground slowly, gently sloping upwards, until it reached an angle she would not be able to climb.

    Reaching the road, Ferene paused. She needed to go to the mountains, but then what? Where in the mountains did she have to look? Turning west, she followed the road. Surely it would lead somewhere. She wanted answers. Answers about herself, about how she could learn to fight like Linara. But more than that, she wanted to be away from the humans. She could feel the anger inside herself. The hatred. She never killed someone she did not mean to before. The mistake still haunted her.

    After some time, it appeared.

    Ferene could see the dirt road she walked on stretch to the end of her vision. The fields to the sides lay empty, no farmers claiming this land so far from civilization. Turning her head, she looked at the mountains, a seemingly impassable wall reaching towards the sky. Featureless ground stretching from the road she walked on towards the end of the world. As far as she could see, no signs of life existed in this space.

    Except That Thing. A creature on the road ahead slowly walked in Ferene''s direction. She trusted her sense of distance, and That Thing was too tall for how far away it should be. Ferene suspected that it stood several heads above her. The two of them slowly approached each other for the last hour, the only living creatures. As she stepped closer, her sense of unease grew. Something about it was wrong. She drew her sword, and found her hands shaking. Something was very, very wrong. Ferene continued walking forward.

    Getting close enough to make out details, the sense of unease changed, becoming unlike anything she ever felt before. Her stomach twisted and she felt ill just looking at the creature. Shaped like a human, but taller, taller than her, taller than any human should be. Its face was stretched forward, a beast-like nose covered in inhuman, pale blue skin. The entire head appeared upside down, with the jaw on top and the eyes underneath. She watched it shamble towards her, limping. It was injured, but in one hand it carried a club as long as her sword and as thick as her body. She swallowed, pushing the fear and her urge to vomit down, and raised her weapon.

    Ferene specialized in running. She wondered how fast That Thing could react, if she could hit it before it could hit her, before it could defend itself. Something inside of her told her to kill the creature. A hatred not backed up by any memory or experience, but a base instinct. She wanted, needed to kill this sickening monster, to remove the wrongness from the world.

    She ran. As fast as she could, Ferene charged forward, instincts taking over in the moment. A practiced movement, dashing forward, moving to the side at the last moment, swinging her sword at head level. A quick kill.

    Instead, she found herself knocked down, tumbling to the dirt, her arms in pain. She looked up, seeing the creature reeling back, a bloody gash across its chest. It screamed. Ferene pulled herself to her feet, holding her sword in front of her again. The Thing stepped forward, swinging its club horizontally. Ferene swung, trying to counter the blow. Her sword collided with the wooden club, digging into the creature''s weapon. A shock ran up her arms again as her weapon was ripped out of her grip. The creature screamed at her, tossing its club down and stepping forward, arms outstretched to grab her. Lowering her head, Ferene ran forward, bashing her shoulder into the beast''s stomach.

    Rearing upwards, it screamed at her again. Ferene pulled her short sword from the sheath at her waist and slashed upwards, aiming for its head properly this time. She couldn''t see the result of her attack before it punched her, sending her tumbling backwards, her second sword flying out of her hand. She looked up at the Thing''s face, blood leaking from its neck, as it took one step towards her, then another, then slumped to the ground.

    Ferene struggled to stay awake. Her head spun, and her back hurt as she lay on the road. The sensation of wrongness from the dead thing beside her lingered, and she still struggled not to vomit. Her body ached from where it had hit her. She lay there - unable to get up, counting forwards, then backwards, then forwards again, anything to remain conscious ¨C for an hour, maybe more. Then, they arrived.

    She noticed a shadow looming over her ¨C a face staring down. She heard sounds, a voice, but couldn''t make out any words. Eventually she realized that she couldn''t recognize the language. Ferene blinked, trying to get a better look at them.

    The person looking back was Hatharen.

    In that moment of recognition, the spinning of her head slowed, and she looked around. There were six of them, armed with spears, swords, and bows, wearing long cloaks over metal armor. Three of them were examining the body of the thing she had killed. Two were on lookout. The last was standing over her, looking down at her, face a mixture of curiosity and concern.

    ¡°Can''t understand.¡±

    The reaction was instant. The elf''s frown deepened, their eyes moving away from hers, tracing the features of her face. Straightening, the woman turned, saying something towards one of the three examining the body. A short conversation followed, and one of them walked over to her and her new companion. A new Hatharen looked down at her. This one squatted beside her, lowering himself down closer to her.

    ¡°You are one surprise after another.¡± He said, smiling at her. He kept his voice low, almost a whisper.

    ¡°I''m hurt.¡± Ferene said.

    ¡°You fought a Direag alone. You should be happy you are alive at all.¡± He patted her on her shoulder. ¡°Don''t worry. You saved us a great deal of trouble. Filreahen here will get you back on your feet.¡± He said something to the first Hatharen, who shrugged at him, then pulled a bag out from under her cloak ¨C an odd collection of pouches and pockets. She fished a glass vial out from one of them, pulled off the top, and thrust it under Ferene''s nose.

    The struggle to remain conscious suddenly became a fight Ferene wasn''t able to win.

    She couldn''t feel her sword.

    Ferene''s hand slid over a blanket, grasping at nothing but cloth. She reached around, opening her eyes, looking around. A meager campsite surrounded her ¨C two figures by a fire, a third looking at her, a fourth and fifth standing watch. Several other blankets were on the ground, on the other side of the fire from her. She didn''t see her sword anywhere. Sitting up, she looked at the Hatharen staring at her ¨C the same one that talked to her before.

    ¡°Sword.¡± She said, cutting him off as he opened his mouth to speak. He frowned at her.

    ¡°Don''t worry about that, you''re not in danger.¡±

    ¡°My sword.¡± She said again, taking another look at the campsite. Ferene didn''t recognize the location, she couldn''t see the road. Going back to find her weapons would be difficult if she didn''t know which direction to go. She pushed the blanket off of her.

    ¡°Calm down.¡± The Hatharen said, reaching towards a pile of cloth at his feet. ¡°All of your things are here.¡± He flipped the cloth over, revealing not only her swords, but also her gauntlets and knee plates. The anxiety left her body, and she weakly raised her arms, stretching her hands outwards towards him as he picked up her sword. ¡°It''s important to you, is it?¡± He asked, stepping towards her, holding it out in front of him, hilt-first. Ferene''s hands wrapped around the familiar grip, pulling her weapon towards her and placing it at her side. She nodded, running a hand along the flat of the blade. Her fingers slid across the scarred, chipped steel of her sword, before looking back up at the Hatharen.

    ¡°I''m sure you have some questions about what happened yesterday.¡± He said, sitting back down, legs crossed. He waited, watching her. Ferene stared back. The creature, her sickness, the hatred she felt towards it...she considered the events, and remained silent. ¡°Or, maybe you don''t. Either way, you helped us out, and were hurt in the process, so we owe you some amount of gratitude.¡± He continued, frowning again. ¡°My name is Telhrian. What''s your name?¡±

    She looked at Telhrian. His face, framed by black hair hanging down to his shoulders. Ears jutting out from the sides of his head, pushing through his hair. A Hatharen, full blooded, not a half-human like her. She stared into his eyes. Her father would have looked like this, possibly. Did her father have brown eyes? Did her father have black hair? Did Telhrian know who her father was? ¡°Ferene.¡± She said, watching his expression grow more and more concerned. ¡°My name is Ferene.¡±

    ¡°Ferene...¡± His frown seemed to deepen. ¡°We suspect that you are a half-breed. Is that true? Ferene is an...odd name.¡±

    Her jaw clenched. ¡°It''s my name.¡±

    ¡°If you were human we would have to kill you, since you''ve seen a Direag. You aren''t human. If you were Hatharen, we would let you return to your own stronghold, and apologize for the inconvenience we''ve caused you. Since you don''t speak the language, we''ve come to the conclusion that you do not have a stronghold to go back to. You are either a Hatharen raised by humans, or a half-breed raised by humans. Which puts us in a very odd situation.¡±

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    Her eyes fell from his face to the pieces of her armor at his feet. Metal gauntlets and knee plates, and the metal-lined leather of her chest piece. Under the blanket Ferene wore only her clothes. Her fingers slide down the length of her sword, wrapping around the hilt. ¡°I am half human. Will you kill me?¡± She asked, meeting his gaze again.

    ¡°My comrades and I are divided on that.¡± He said, his eyes going towards her hand, then back to her face. His recognition of her hostility didn''t change his tone or demeanor. ¡°I would offer you a place in our village, if you want it, and let you go on your way if you do not. However in order to let you go we would need your word that you do not talk about the creature that you encountered. Humans cannot know such things exist. Some of the others believe that you should be treated no differently than a human, and that you should be executed. Others think that to do that would violate our most sacred law, and that we should take you back to our village and hold you there, even if it is against your will.¡±

    Ferene relaxed her grip, but kept her fingers wrapped around the hilt. ¡°Am I your prisoner?¡± She asked, looking him in the eye.

    Telhrian''s mouth twitched. His eyes went from hers, to her hand on the sword, then back to her eyes. He leaned forward. ¡°It may be that way, yes, while we figure out what to do with you. Some of us are very opposed to hurting you, but others are not. If you force a conflict before a decision is made, I do not know how things will play out.¡±

    Holding her sword made her feel better, but she couldn''t attack him from this position, and even trying to move sent pain shooting through her limbs. She clenched her jaw, pressing her lips together. She was hopeless. ¡°I guess I''ll just wait, then.¡±

    Oddly, he smiled at her. ¡°We''ll have you back on your feet soon enough, don''t worry about that part. I promised you that before. Filreahen is very good at what she does.¡±

    ¡°She knocked me out.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes you have to go down in order to go up.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sometimes you do.¡± She relaxed, taking a deep breath. The fear from waking up, the anger, the confusion, it all seemed to wash away. As soon as she shut her eyes, she felt incredibly tired.

    Once more, she woke up, finding herself still in the campsite. She tried to sit up, and succeeded, though with a lot of pain. One of the Hatharen women came over - Filreahen, the one with the medicine - and frowned at her, poking Ferene in the ribs as she said something. It hurt enough to make her vision blur. Ferene almost fell back to the ground but the woman caught her. Telhrian noticed as well, and walked over to her.

    ¡°She examined you while you were sleeping. You broke a few ribs in your fight, so take it easy for the next few days.¡±

    Ferene looked up at him, frowning. ¡°You know how fast I heal?¡±

    ¡°You''ve forgotten who you are talking to, Ferene.¡±

    She stopped. ¡°I...I don''t know anything about you.¡±

    ¡°The flesh heals quickly. Bones take longer. We can heal in hours what takes them days, and we can recover in a few days from something that would take them weeks. You, however, should be respectful to your body.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Telhrian opened his mouth, then closed it, setting his jaw. He stared at her for a moment, then started talking to Filraehen about something. Their conversation lasted a few moments, and they both stood up and walked away, leaving Ferene alone. Filraehen had placed a rolled up blanket behind Ferene, allowing her to lean back against it, but not lie down completely.

    The two of them walked back to a circle with the other four. Ferene strained her ears, but they weren''t talking in her language. Giving up on that, she looked around the campsite. Bedrolls littered the ground, placed seemingly at random. To the side Ferene saw a pair of horses, idly grazing at the grass. A fire pit sat in the center, surrounded by six figures. Ferene pushed herself to her feet, against the pain, and started walking towards them.

    After a few steps, her walk turned into a limp, the pain becoming worse. It was nowhere near as bad as being stabbed, nowhere near bad enough to keep her off her feet. She didn''t even need to prop herself up with her sword.

    One of them stood up, turning to face her. A woman she hadn''t seen before. A realization came to Ferene. Something sitting in that back of her head suddenly moved to the front, a barely noticed mystery resolving itself before her eyes.

    The Hatharen were huge.

    The one standing was not the tallest in the group, yet Ferene''s eye level was in line with her collarbone. Lying down, her perspective didn''t let her see just how big they all were. Standing face to chest, it all came together.

    The Hatharen said something to her, grabbing her arm and guiding her to a place in their circle, Sitting down and gesturing for Ferene to sit beside her. As she lowered herself to the ground, Ferene suddenly felt out of place. One of them looked at her and frowned, while another started speaking loudly, pointing at Ferene. Telhrian said something, cutting the protest off.

    ¡°Why don''t you introduce yourself.¡± He said, turning to her, then said something else without looking away. All of them turned to look directly at her.

    ¡°Ferene.¡± She said, loudly and clearly.

    ¡°Ferene.¡± They all repeated in unison. Telhrian, Filraehen, and the one beside her all bowed while seated. One of the others tilted his head. The last two stayed still.

    The one beside her said something else, and Ferene heard her name mentioned. Telhrian responded, then looked at Ferene again.

    ¡°Do you know why you have that name?¡±

    ¡°My mother ¨C my human mother ¨C gave it to me.¡±

    ¡°It is an interesting name.¡± He said, smiling at her. ¡°In our language, it is the name of a kind of plant. We...do not name ourselves as plants. It is very telling about your background.¡±

    Ferene nodded. Her mother never told her anything about why she picked the name. That was just her name. ¡°I have never met my father. I want to find him. I want to learn about...what I am. I never met any of your people before, and it was only a few weeks ago that I first met someone like myself.¡±

    ¡°You met another half-breed?¡± He asked, leaning forward, his eyes wide.

    ¡°Her name was Linara. She said she was from...¡± Ferene paused, trying to remember. ¡°Aesuthal.¡±

    Telhrian quickly spoke in his language again, and the others nodded. There was another short conversation. Ferene heard ¡°Linara¡± and ¡°Aesuthal.¡± The woman beside her put a hand on Ferene''s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. When she looked up at the woman, she was met with a warm smile. Ferene simply stared back, not sure what else to do.

    ¡°We know about Linara. She is...she is known. Our people traveling human lands is not unheard of. Now, since you''ve been introduced, let us move on to business.¡± He sighed, looking around the circle. Two of the other three Hatharen were looking at Ferene, while the last was glaring angrily at the Hatharen beside her. ¡°Rilya and I believe that because of your assistance in ending our hunt, you should be treated as an honorary member of our stronghold, and invited to return with us or go on your way, whichever you choose. Filraehen wants to take you back to the stronghold and examine you before making further judgment, but has overall positive feelings towards you. Alri is thankful for your assistance but believes your interactions with us should go no further than this, and we should turn you away. Sathar and Ilraghen believe we should kill you, as you know too much. They are very much outvoted, making you relatively safe for now, but there is no full decision on what to do with you.¡± He said this to her, then said something else to the group.

    The Hatharen beside Ferene gave her a light squeeze on the shoulder, drawing her attention. Ferene turned to look at her. ¡°Rilya.¡± She said, smiling. Ferene nodded, then turned back to Telhrian.

    ¡°Could they convince the others that I need to die?¡±

    ¡°Our most sacred law is that we do not harm our own people. It is core to our society, in every stronghold. The other four of us, for now, believe that this protection extends to you. They have been arguing against it, unsuccessfully. For now, we have decided to wait here while you heal. We will have more discussions in the meantime, and also deal with the remains of the Direag.¡±

    Ferene suffered through the next few days, limping around the campsite, not understanding a word of what was being said, and being generally unhelpful and unhappy. She had a few conversations with Telhrian, and those were the highlights of her day, but he did not spend his entire time with her, instead coming and going or sitting in the circle having long conversations with the others. Three of the six were always in the camp, the rest on unknown activities. The area nearby provided her with everything she needed, if she limped far enough to get to it. Trees huddled against the side of the mountain face, not dense or numerous enough to be called a forest, but providing shade and a source of firewood. To the other side of the camp, water spilled from a hole in the cliffs above, falling down to form a pool before running south. The water looked clear but tasted heavily of minerals.

    On the first night, Alri brought back several birds, killed with arrows. Filraehen got to work stripping them to cook, Ferene watching with interest. Telhrian was out at the time, but arrived before the meal was ready. She limped towards him as soon as she recognized him approaching the campsite.

    ¡°They are cooking birds.¡± She said, looking at him expectantly.

    He nodded. ¡°Alri has been going further and further afield, trying to find food. Things are sparse this close to the south side of the mountains. Not much wildlife in these trees.¡±

    Ferene frowned. ¡°I get sick whenever I eat meat.¡±

    His eyebrows went up, and he said something in his own language, then nodded to her. ¡°Those from Treventhal, the last stronghold to the west, cannot stomach the flesh of creatures. For the rest of us, it is not an issue. Perhaps this is a hint at your father''s identity?¡±

    Ferene stood completely still, her hands balled into fists. Several seconds later she remembered to breathe. She never once considered finding her father. Thoughts raced through her head. If she found him, what would she do? Kill him? Demand answers? Introduce herself as his daughter? Scream at him in anger? Possibilities and emotions swirled together, anger and sorrow and regret and hate all building towards -

    ¡°I''ll have Filraehen prepare something that you can eat.¡± Telhrian''s words cut through her thoughts, and she suddenly relaxed. The moment mattered, the here and the now. She could worry about other things later.

    The second day, Rilya followed her around the camp. Whenever Ferene looked at her, she would smile back. Her entire face lit up every time, and she looked down at Ferene with a completely unfamiliar fondness.

    It bothered her.

    She quickly found Telhrian as he was tending to the horses. She waited patiently a short distance away, not wanting to interrupt him, with Rilya standing beside her. Ferene glanced up at her and was met with that same wide, inviting smile.

    Telhrian eventually noticed the two of them, stopped what he was doing, and walked over. ¡°What can I do for you?¡±

    ¡°She is following me around, smiling at me, and I don''t know why.¡±

    He frowned, looking at Rilya. He said something, she responded, he said something else, she put her hand on Ferene''s shoulder, and Ferene shrugged her off, stepping away. Rilya''s smile faltered, and she spoke at length to Telrian. Without responding to her, he turned to Ferene.

    ¡°Rilya is our best fighter, and she is very impressed that you managed to defeat the Direag alone. All of us are, really, but she is...thrilled by the idea that someone did it at all. She wants to make sure you recover as fast as possible, as she is interested in sparring with you. She apologizes if she has made you uncomfortable in any way.¡±

    Ferene looked from him, to the woman, then back to him. ¡°I...see.¡± She fought back a frown. ¡°I want to spar with her as well. Tell her that." This was an opportunity, of sorts. Linara refused to teach her, but perhaps one of them could. The idea of trying to learn from someone she couldn''t understand was imposing, but if she just fought them repeatedly, she would surely learn something regardless of the language barrier.

    After Telhrian translated her words, Rilya put her hand on Ferene''s shoulder again, squeezing and giving her another smile, taking her hand away before Ferene had a chance to shake her off again. Then she turned and ran off, her feet thumping loudly against the ground.

    ¡°Where is she going?¡±

    ¡°No idea.¡±

 Chapter 5: Unexpected Encounters - 2

    Ferene sought Telhrian out on the third day, still sore but no longer limping, and feeling more comfortable in the camp. She spent the morning collecting an armful of firewood, the first contribution she made. When she returned, she tossed it onto the massive bonfire. A repulsive smell of burnt flesh surrounded the pit where the creature she killed slowly turned to ash. Telhrian sat on a rock a distance away, his long knife in one hand and the upper half of the beast''s skull wedged between his knees.

    ¡°What is that thing? You called it a Direag.¡±

    Stopping his work, he looked up at her, then over towards the mountain wall. ¡°Other side of that, you won''t find any humans. Just things that look like them. Hatharen are only the first of what lives there. The farther north and east you go, the less human-like the creatures are. The Direag comes from very far north.¡±

    Ferene frowned at the lack of explanation in his answer. ¡°So what was it doing here?¡±

    Flipping his knife to his other hand, he wiped his forehead, pushing his black hair back, out of his eyes. Those dark brown eyes locked onto Ferene''s, staring at her unblinkingly. ¡°There is a war going on beyond the mountains. The Hatharen are fighting and dying to keep this land safe. The Direag is a rare one, but there are many other, smaller, more numerous intelligent beasts there. They are constantly trying to push south, to kill the Hatharen, to get to this land, where the humans are. Humans that can''t fight back. This one slipped past us during a battle, and our group was sent to hunt it down.¡±

    Ferene paused, thinking. She thought far too much, these past days, with little else to do. It bothered her, drove her to ask questions, to consider things, rather than ignoring and accepting them. ¡°Looking at it made me feel sick.¡±

    After nodding back, Telhrian turned to look towards the fire pit. ¡°If you were fully human, you would have fallen to your knees, if not entirely flat on your face, unable to even act. The intelligent beasts have that effect. That is why the Hatharen fight them instead. If we let them pass, they would quickly conquer the rest of the world, and have us surrounded.¡±

    Pieces started to fall into place. ¡°Aesuthal, Treventhal, the strongholds. You patrol the entire northern wall?¡±

    ¡°More than that. Treventhal is in the northwest. The mountains don''t go all the way, and our border curves south to reach the ocean. Aesuthal is at the southeast end, next to the sea. Each stronghold has responsibility for their own part of the border. There are sixteen of them, lining the neck of the land. Those creatures attack us every so often, sometimes once a month, sometimes less often than that. We have constant patrols deep into the north, looking for any groups advancing on us. They are unorganized, luckily, only coming a few hundred at a time, but in total there are too many for us to mount an offensive. So we fight a defensive war.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡±

    ¡°Forever.¡±

    Ferene stared at him, then looked around the camp. Filraehen and Ilraghen talked to each other while the woman stirred a pot over a much smaller fire. Alri sat on a tree stump, whittling wood into arrows. Telhrian told her that all of them were part of a never ending war. They just looked like people to Ferene. Very tall people, but people nonetheless. She could see the farmer and his wife, or Tullund, or any of Lana''s mercenaries acting the same way.

    A thought pushed to the front of her mind. All this time, she thought she was different. She thought her fight had a larger, more grander goal. Not money or fame or honor, but to change the world. An impossible task to kill every single evil person in the land, for revenge, for the safety of others, for her own peace of mind. That was an unending war, and she did all the things these people did. She was just like them.

    ¡°How long have you been fighting it?¡±

    ¡°Three hundred years.¡±

    Or maybe she wasn''t.

    Letting out a deep sigh, he looked at her. ¡°The Hatharen are timeless beings, Ferene. Our bodies do not age, our injuries do not heal, but are undone. It is our curse, to constantly move backwards, towards the one perfect moment when we stopped growing.¡±

    ¡°And me? You mentioned something about my healing, before.¡±

    Telhrian grimaced. ¡°I mean no offense by this, but...your body does not work properly.¡±

    Again with only a partial explanation. Ferene simply stared at him expectantly.

    ¡°Filraehen could explain this better, but I will do my best. Hatharen are timeless, our bodies attempt to go back to a fixed state. Your body does this as well. Or rather, half of your body does. The other half is trying as hard as possible to destroy itself over time. The Hatharen part of you is working constantly to pull the human part of you back, to fix the damage time would do to you. Whenever you get injured, it works even harder. At some point, the two parts of you will run out of energy, and you will just stop.¡±

    ¡°Stop?¡±

    He looked away from her, towards the mountain wall. ¡°Your life will end. Without growing old, without slowing down, your body will simply stop working.¡±

    ¡°How long does it usually take?¡±

    ¡°Your kind is rare, but I believe only a few centuries.¡±

    Ferene shrugged. ¡°Sounds fine to me.¡±

    A look of horror spread across his face as he turned back to her. ¡°Fine? Your existence ends in a meager three hundred, possibly four hundred years, and this is fine to you?¡±

    ¡°Always figured I''d get killed long before that. Doesn''t really change much.¡±

    Every night the six of them sat in their circle, talking. After the first time, Ferene did not join them. Having Telhrian translate would only slow them down, and she didn''t care enough to try to interject. She listened to them talk, back and forth, around and around, words she couldn''t understand. From the bedroll they provided her, their words barely reached her, at least for the first three nights. On the fourth night, they spoke in raised voices, interrupting each other, and stopped their discussion early. Ferene watched with interest as the group split into two, Sathar and Ilraghen walking off in one direction, the other four walking off in the other. Things seemed to still be in her favor, but she saw Telhrian and Alri standing close to each. Alri, the shortest of the group, though still taller than Ferene, stood with her arms crossed. Telhrian reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder, then moved it towards her face. She pushed him away, walking over towards the other two. Telhrian straightened his back and turned away.

    Perhaps things were not going well for her after all.

    Ferene poked her ribs, gently, clenching her teeth against the pain. Her against at least three of them. If they were even half as good as Linara, Ferene stood no chance, even if she was in her best condition. She only had to run, though. She might outrun them but the pain would make it difficult to outlast them. Would the other three help her, or would running turn them against her?

    She felt powerless. While not restrained, the feeling was worse than when Niffrem captured her. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. In the morning she could talk to Telhrian, and maybe find a way out of this.

    When she woke up the next morning, Telhrian was gone. Growling to herself, she got to her feet, poking gently at her ribs again. Less pain than before. She swung her arm, stretched her legs, jumped a few times, then poked herself again. Perhaps Filraehen underestimated her ability to heal.

    ¡°Ferene!¡± She turned around to see Rilya walking towards her, a large piece of wood in her outstretched arms, and a smile on her face. Ferene reached out, grabbing the long, thin wooden plank. It had a lot more weight to it than she first guessed. It was around the same weight as her sword. It also had a similar length, width, and thickness. In fact, one end was carved into a familiarly shaped and sized handle.

    ¡°What''s this?¡± She asked, knowing the uselessness of the question. Giving her a wide grin, Rilya stepped behind Ferene, placed her hands on her shoulders, aimed Ferene towards the river, and gave a slight push. ¡°Alright, let''s go over there.¡± As she started walking, Rilya stepped out in front of her, nearly hopping along in excitement, looking ridiculous given her size.

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    At the riverside, Rilya bent down, picking up two thin wooden sticks off the ground. Turning towards Ferene, she brandished her ''swords'' ¨C one about two thirds the length of Ferene''s, the other half the length, both entirely wood. Ferene had seen children playing with wooden swords from time to time, but never got the chance to do so herself ¨C as a child herself, her training had always been with real weapons, any injury a bonus for the onlookers. Seeing a fully grown woman taller than she was taking up a combat stance with two sticks seemed even more ridiculous than her jumping with joy.

    Still, the wooden weapon that Ferene held had the right weight. If it was entirely wood, it was a very special kind of wood. Grabbing the ''hilt'' and holding it, the feeling was so familiar she would not believe she wasn''t holding steel if it wasn''t her in line of sight. Seeing her bring her weapon up, Rilya let out a yell and charged at Ferene.

    Instincts took over. Ferene blocked the first attack, stepping to the side to dodge the shorter sword. Despite her size, Rilya moved incredibly fast, making a third swing as Ferene was still recovering. None of her human opponents moved like this. Ferene blocked again, and again, always just barely in time, finding herself being driven back by well timed strikes that gave her no opportunity to recover and mount her own offense.

    Once more, Rilya swung her longer pretend weapon at Ferene''s head, and this time Ferene ducked, twisting to the side at the same time to dodge the shorter weapon''s following swipe. The double miss put Rilya slightly off balance, and Ferene pushed her shoulder into the larger woman''s side, sending her stumbling backwards.

    Suddenly, Ferene had space. Bringing her sword up, she swung horizontally, putting all her strength into the strike. Her wooden weapon did not sing as it sliced through the air, instead producing a different, deeper sound as it pushed the air aside. Rilya brought both of her weapons around to block the attack with a sharp clack of wood striking wood. Stepping backwards after deflecting the swing, Rilya flipped her swords over in her hands, slowly circling Ferene. The smile on her face no longer filled with joy, but instead excitement, perhaps even bloodlust.

    The two of them stared each other down, each wearing the same simple white shirt and brown leggings, no armor or protection to be seen. If a single blow landed with the force they put into it, bones would break. Ferene tightened her grip, raised the block of wood above her head, and charged again.

    Rilya did not block the attack properly, instead intercepting it at an angle, sliding her weapon along the length of Ferene''s, stepping closer to her. Completely off-balance, Ferene took her left hand off her sword and reached to grab Rilya''s free wrist. Right before she closed in on it, something happened. Rilya dropped her sword and with a snake-like motion grabbed Ferene''s hand instead, intertwining their fingers.

    Confusion spread across Ferene''s face as she tried to pull away, but found Rilya''s grip tight. The larger woman dropped her other weapon and grabbed Ferene''s right wrist, twisting gently until she found herself equally disarmed. Rilya grinned at her, the predatory smile turning once again into one of joy. With a giggle, she pushed Ferene down onto her back.

    Ferene watched in confusion as Rilya knelt down, sitting on top of Ferene''s legs. Leaning forward, she bumped her lips against Ferene''s, not even touching long enough to be called a kiss. Ferene looked up at her as the other woman said something in her language, her gray eyes staring into Ferene''s for a moment. They both waited like that, silent, until Rilya smiled. She leaned towards Ferene again, and Ferene parted her lips ever so slightly, expecting a kiss.

    Rilya did not bring her mouth to Ferene''s, instead her head drifted off to the side. Before Ferene could say or do anything, she gasped sharply as she felt something hard touch the upper edge of her ear. Her legs twitched, twisting under the two of them as Rilya gently bit down. She moved outwards, up the length of Ferene''s ear as Ferene found herself breathing hard, every tiny poke of teeth against flesh sending hot fire into her head and down her body.

    Finding it hard to stay upright, Ferene wrapped her arms around Rilya and fell backwards onto the ground, pulling the larger woman down on top of her. The motion didn''t disrupt Rilya at all, as she kept gently nibbling on Ferene''s ear, moving further outwards, towards the tip. The sensation was maddening, and Ferene wanted desperately to fight back against it. In this position, Rilya''s ear was in front of her. Taking one hand off her back, Ferene reached out, grabbed it, and bent it into her mouth, holding it delicately between her teeth, biting down just enough that it didn''t pull away from her.

    The result was immediate. She could feel Rilya shake on top of her, a shiver that went through the Hatharen''s entire body. Rilya released Ferene''s ear to whisper another word into it, then bit the bottom. Ferene gasped again, losing her grip on Rilya''s ear. Every sensation felt like a tiny pebble hitting the surface of water, sending small ripples outward. Ripples that reached far further than a tiny stone looked like it could, but small ripples weren''t enough for Ferene.

    She grabbed Rilya''s head, gently pulling her away from her ear. They looked into each other''s eyes for a moment, Ferene panting, Rilya just smiling smugly. Ferene''s eyes were drawn to that smile, focusing on it. She pulled Rilya down into her, kissing her. Ferene hadn''t kissed anyone before, so she clumsily pressed her lips to her partner''s, pushing them apart. Then she felt Rilya''s tongue, and did her best to match those movements as she squeezed her arms around her, pressing their bodies together.

    Ferene''s focus shifted, her lips against Rilya''s lips, her tongue sliding across Rilya''s tongue, one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist, she wasn''t thinking of what Rilya was doing with her hands until she felt her pinch both of her ears at the same time. It was a maddening sensation. Ferene squirmed underneath her, her entire body shifting from side to side like a snake. She squeezed Rilya tighter in her arms, trying to force her even closer than she already was. Even with her mouth and both of her ears, and the feeling of Rilya''s body pressed against hers, it wasn''t enough. Ferene wanted more. She was desperate for more.

    After a moment, Rilya let go and pushed herself upwards, straddling Ferene, looking down at her. Now they were both breathing heavily, Rilya taking deep breaths through parted lips, Ferene panting, fast and short. Rilya took one more deep breath and smiled, saying another few words in her language. Ferene couldn''t understand, but smiled back. She didn''t bother saying anything ¨C not only did she not know the words to express herself now, but Rilya wouldn''t be able to understand them anyway.

    Later, they washed themselves in the stream. Ferene looked over at Rilya''s naked body, admiring it from a distance this time, all at once, rather than up close. Pale skin and well toned muscles, long black hair. Rilya must have noticed Ferene watching, as she turned to her, striking a pose and smiling. Ferene couldn''t help but smile back. She had smiled at the child back at the farm, too, hadn''t she? She couldn''t remember smiling like that before then. Before she met Linara.

    A following thought pushed into her head. This same situation, with her looking at a naked body. Linara''s naked body, and how her reactions didn''t make sense to Ferene.

    Ferene looked away from Rilya, getting out of the water. She was an idiot. Linara acted oddly because she thought that Ferene wanted to do all of that with her. Everything she had just done with Rilya. She pulled on her borrowed shirt and leggings and turned back to see Rilya doing the same, the Hatharen still smiling at her. Ferene nodded at her once, then pointing back towards the camp, barely visible some distance away.

    When they arrived, Ilraghen stood, arms crossed, glaring at Rilya. He gave Ferene a single glance, his eyes filled with fury, then looked at Rilya once more, and started shouting at her. Placing a hand on Ferene''s shoulder, she shouted back at him. Ferene looked from one Hatharen to the other, unsure of what she should be doing, but fairly sure this was about her and moderately sure it was about what Rilya and her had done to each other.

    Telhrian came over, apparently having returned to camp during Ferene''s sparring session, and listened for a moment before cutting in, silencing both Rilya and Ilraghen. He spoke first to Ilraghen, then to Rilya, then to Ilraghen again. The two seemed to agree on something, as Ilraghen turned and walked away, but only after another glare at Ferene. Rilya waited until he was on the other side of the camp before she started talking again, but stopped when Telhrian held up a hand, then pointed at Ferene.

    ¡°You are causing a great deal of trouble for us.¡±

    Ferene simply stared up at him, aware of Rilya''s hand still on her shoulder. She wrapped her own arm around the Hatharen''s waist, causing Telhrian to look down at her hand and frown.

    ¡°Come, sit down, and let me tell you what is going on here, as much as I can.¡± He then said something to Rilya, who let go of Ferene after giving her shoulder a squeeze. Ferene watched her walk away, then followed Telhrian over to a stump and a rock.''

    ¡°I cannot give you all of the details, as some of them are not things we tell outsiders, ever. The basics of what I can tell you, however, is that our group of six is equally divided between males and females for a reason, and each of us has an arranged partner. This is not always a romantic pairing. Rilya and Ilraghen get along decently well, as friends and teammates. It stops there, despite them being arranged partners. Rilya''s...preferences were made clear to Ilraghen before now, and he accepted them among our own people. He does not see you as one of our people and is...very upset with both you and Rilya.¡± Telhrian paused multiple times to consider his words, his frown growing deeper as he talked, reaching all the way up and creasing his forehead.

    Ferene shrugged. ¡°It''s not my fault he''s mad.¡±

    With a sigh, Telhrian rubbed his eyes and then looked at her intently. ¡°You have to understand that while it is not your fault he is upset, it is very much your problem. The problem with what to do with you is turning us against each other, and none of us like that. Things like this make it worse. Our discussions were getting more...upsetting, to everyone, and I do not look forward to it tonight. Trying to convince Ilraghen to accept you has become a lot harder.¡±

    He stood up, leaving her with that. Walking over to her bedroll, Ferene put her mock sword down next to her collection of real weapons. She picked up her greatsword, then picked up the wooden copy. The weight was very, very similar. Upon closer inspection, the wooden sword seemed to be made up of several different pieces of different kinds of wood. Despite the rough surface and uneven shape, it seemed like a complex piece of work to be made in just two days, with seemingly no tools around. Ferene shook her head and put it back down. If she tried to uncover the mysteries of the Hatharen by thinking about them, she would probably go insane.

    That night, she sat on her bedroll, watching the discussion. Alri stayed silent. Rilya stood up as she spoke, gesturing rapidly. Sathar added a few words here and there, but mostly left the talking to Ilraghen. Telhrian spent more time rubbing his head than talking. Filraehen seemed to assume some sort of leadership role, several times bringing the arguments to a stop when Rilya and Ilraghen were yelling at each other.

    It seemed that it all ended with no real progress, as both groups of three went off in opposite directions. Rilya walked over to Ferene and sat down beside her, looking dejected at first but turning to give Ferene a smile. Smiling back, Ferene put a hand on her shoulder. After a deep breath, Rilya pulled her into a tight embrace. It felt different than how they touched earlier in the day. No fast breathing, no quickened heartbeat, but rather a sense of sadness and loneliness, like Rilya held on to her because she was the only thing the woman had left to hold on to. Ferene wrapped her arms around her in return, but her own emotions swirled, uncertain. Fighting with Rilya gave her respect, but beyond that she did not truly know the person. An idea of her, from her open emotions, her enthusiasm, joy, and anger, lingered in Ferene''s head, but Ferene did not know how to act here. She could not walk away in order to avoid facing her lack of ability to interact. All she could do was mimic Rilya''s actions and hope it worked. She squeezed harder.

    The next day, her fifth in the camp, was mostly uneventful. Rilya once more took her down to the side of the stream, and they had another short sparring session, which ended much the same way as the first. Upon their return to camp, Ilraghen glared at the two of them, but did not start an argument this time. Ferene went about trying her best to help, gathering firewood for the camp and edible plants for herself. On this second task, Alri showed up, silently presenting a handful of blackberries. Ferene stopped to look more closely at the shortest member of the team. Thick cloth armor with metal studs wrapped the woman''s body, colored with the swirl of green and brown dyes. If not for her pale, nearly white hair, she would have blended into the trees. The bow on her back, along with a quiver of arrows, was her only weapon, aside from the long knife at her waist. All six of the Hatharen wore one of them, when fully geared. The same kind of knife that Linara had been so proficient at throwing.

    Taking the berries, Ferene bowed in thanks. She knew that Alri might be against letting her live, so she wanted to avoid making herself look any worse. The Hatharen nodded back at her, then faded into the trees again, heading further east, where the outcrop joined with a larger forest spreading southward. Looking around, Ferene could not see the dirt path where she fought the Direag. She went back to the camp, dropping her food next to her bedroll, and then set off to the southwest. After an hour of walking ¨C she tried running, but was immediately met with pain in her chest ¨C she could not find it, and instead turned back to the camp.

    That night, the meeting started mostly the same, Rilya and Ilraghen yelling at each other. Eventually, Alri broke her silence, standing up and facing Ilraghen, talking at length in a calm voice. He stared at her, then said a single word, turning away. Sathar then said something as well, and the meeting ended. The split of the group was very different this time. Sathar sat with Filraehen, tending to the cooking pot. Alri approached Telhrian, saying something to him. The two embraced. Rilya walked over to Ferene and sat next to her, smiling and patting her on the back.

    It seemed that things were looking up for Ferene.

 Chapter 5: Unexpected Encounters - 3

    Ferene woke the next morning to an unfamiliar campsite.

    Six Hatharen lingered idly around the clearing, fully dressed for combat. Rilya, Filraehen, and Sathar wore their breastplates, with Sathar also wearing an armored skirt and greaves. Ilraghen''s armor matched Alri''s, heavy metal-lined cloth. Telhrian covered himself with a cloak covered in steel studs. As she pushed herself to her feet, Rilya and Telhrian approached Ferene, placing her armor in front of her, then backing away. Looking at the metal plates, they seemed cleaner than before, though not polished. Ferene pulled on her leather chestpiece, then strapped on the spaulders and arm guards, acutely aware of all six of them watching her. Next she fastened her knee guards before sliding on her gauntlets. She could not remember the last time her armor felt this clean. She looked to the side of her borrowed bedroll, seeing her great sword, her short sword, and her knife, laid out neatly. The latter two, like her armor, looked clean, but the primary sword appeared to be untouched. Bending down, Ferene tucked the knife into her boot and slid the short sword onto her belt, standing up with her last sword in her hand.

    Five Hatharen all bowed to her, stepping away once again. They positioned themselves to form a ring, with Ferene and Ilraghen making up the last two positions, slightly inward from the rest. The space between them was empty, the cooking setup and the rocks they used for seating moved to the sides, adding to the formation of the circle.

    One Hatharen stepped forward, towards the center. Ilraghen drew his weapon, a sword slightly shorter than Ferene''s secondary. The blade gleamed unlike any other weapon Ferene had seen before, the gray metal darker than most steel, seeming to not just catch the light of the sunrise, but hold it. He pointed his weapon at her.

    ¡°Ilraghen will see you as one of us only if you are able to disarm him before he disarms you.¡± Telhrian spoke from his position to Ferene''s right. ¡°The rest of us have agreed to this. If you can best him in this contest, you will be awarded entrance to the stronghold of Yonthal. If you lose, you will be given a choice. Have your tongue cut out and be allowed to return to your human lands, or die.¡±

    As soon as Telhrian finished speaking, Ilraghen rushed forward, swinging his sword at Ferene. She blocked the attack, falling back. The ring of Hatharen followed the two of them as they stepped over her bedroll, Ilraghen attacking relentlessly, driving her further and further backwards. Staying calm, Ferene blocked blow after blow, staying calm, waiting. The attacks felt familiar to her, in an odd way. Another swing came, and Ferene blocked, her body shifting to the side, waiting for a second attack that didn''t come. The pattern fell into place ¨C his fighting style was very similar to Rilya, except he only held one sword, his other hand free.

    On Ilraghen''s next attack, Ferene forcefully swung her sword to intercept, knocking him away. She stepped back again, finally making space. Holding her sword up, point towards him, she made her own attack, a quick experimental thrust. Ilraghen sidestepped, trying to close the distance, but Ferene swung her sword sideways, driving him back.

    Taking a breath, Ferene tried to think, watching him warily stay at the edge of her range. His armor matched Alri''s ¨C was he another scout? The six of them seemed to have different roles. Ferene moved in, swinging her sword diagonally downward with a powerful slash. Ilraghen jumped backward, staying out of her range. Shifting his grip on his sword, Ilraghen paced sideways, keeping his eyes on her. After dodging another quick swing, he frowned, drawing the long knife with his other hand, falling into a two weapon stance, low, the short sword held upright in front of him and the knife bracing it from behind.

    Ferene didn''t know what to make of the pose, and tested him with another quick thrust. Moving both weapons to meet the attack, Ilraghen caught her sword between his blades and pushed downward. If she had committed harder, her opponent could have pushed her sword into the ground, but the light attack didn''t have enough force in it for that. She pulled back and immediately thrust again, higher this time. Ilraghen performed the same parry, pushing her sword to the side with both of his weapons. Stepping forward, Ferene pushed, gray steel sliding against black, until his sword and knife met her crossguard. Face to face, Ferene smiled, twisting her sword. Ilraghen managed to pull his knife back in time, but his own sword was yanked out of his grip.

    Despite her partially successful disarming maneuver, Ilraghen still had the advantage, at least for the moment. With a dagger in his hand and Ferene''s sword both not in a good position to block and too long to effectively fight at this distance, he stabbed at her shoulder, trying to get the tip of his knife under her spaulder. A quick shift in her stance threw off his aim, pain blossoming as the blade cut through her flesh and ground against her collarbone. Taking one hand off her sword, she grabbed his wrist before her opponent could make another attempt, squeezing and twisting, trying to make him drop his last weapon.

    Ilraghen shouted something at her, grabbing her wrist with his other, trying to pull free. Ferene bashed the hilt of her sword against the underside of his arm, though with only one hand on the massive weapon the blow carried little force. Yelling at her again, his empty hand fell away from hers, and finally he let go of his dagger, stepping away from her. They faced off once more, Ilraghen grinning while holding Ferene''s short sword, pulled from the sheath at her belt.

    Just like the first time, Ilraghen advanced on Ferene, aggressively swinging at her, not giving her a chance to use her superior range. This time, however, Ferene did not resort to blocking. Instead she directly challenged, clashing her weapon on the stolen one, pulling them face to face once more. Ilraghen held Ferene''s short sword in both hands, trying to use his height to push her down.

    Recently, Ferene''s height always matched or exceeded her opponent''s. Looking up at a larger foe brought back old memories, fighting with other children in a cave as adults looked on, laughing at every mistake, every injury. Old instincts spoke to her. Changing from pushing upwards, against him, Ferene suddenly pushed her weapon to the side, letting go of it. Ilraghen fell forward as Ferene ducked down and rammed her good shoulder into his chest, wrapping her arms around his body and pushing him off balance, onto his back. He hit the ground, hard, losing his grip on his weapon. Ferene pounced on him, pinning him to the ground, and he yelled something.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Telhrian yelled.

    For several seconds, Ferene stayed frozen, one arm in the air, ready to break Ilraghen''s face. As she calmed down, her muscles relaxed, her arm falling as she slowly stood up. Somehow, she won. The realization had just started to hit her as she found herself pulled off her feet. Ferene let out a surprised yelp as Rilya lifted her up, holding Ferene with one arm under her back and the other under her legs. Rilya was smiling at her, laughing, while Ferene felt her entire body shaking after the fight.

    The seven of them collected the various pieces of the campsite. There was not a lot of it, to Ferene''s surprise. The place she spent the last five days turned into little more than a few blankets, the cooking pot, and some various small tools, all of which vanished into the saddlebags of the two horses.

    The biggest thing to take was the remains of the Direag. Long, burnt bones filled the fire pit, resting in the ashes from the beast''s body. Dividing these into smaller bundles, some were strapped to the horses and the rest were distributed to the group to carry. Ferene found herself holding the upper half of the skull, Telhrian''s work from earlier leaving several markings carved into the top surface.

    With the luggage assigned, the six Hatharen set off, the two horses following behind, and Ferene in the middle of their line, next to Rilya, as the sun hung high in the sky. They moved around the edge of the small forest, following the mountains as they traveled east. The sun set, and they kept moving. Ferene wanted to run, to stretch her legs fully, but held herself back. After hours of walking under the stars, Alri, in the lead, called out, and all six of them stopped.

    Breaking for camp here turned out to be far less involved than the larger campsite from before. No blankets or bedrolls, just the six of them taking off the larger pieces of their armor, if they had any, and huddling together in groups. Telhrian and Alri sat down, backs against a rocky outcropping, shoulder to shoulder, and fell asleep. Ilraghen, Sathar, and Filraehen grouped up, leaning against each other. Rilya pulled Ferene over to a patch of thicker grass and lay down, gesturing to the space beside her. She took a look at the group, noticing Filraehen still awake, even as the two men drifted off to sleep next to her. With a shrug, Ferene shed the metal pieces of armor from her shoulders, arms, and knees and lay down next to Rilya.

    The next day involved more walking. Her companions chatted between themselves, leaving Ferene out of it, though Rilya occasionally touched her arm or back, drawing Ferene''s attention for a quick nod or smile. Despite the intimate moments the two shared, Ferene still felt awkward not being able to properly communicate, though it might be for the better, since her conversations with previous travel companions ended up more awkward than the silent communication between the two women.

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    When the sky grew dark, the mood of the group changed. All of them started glancing towards the mountains as Alri slowly led them closer and closer to the massive wall of stone. Finally, they stopped, at a seemingly normal crevice. Ferene had seen several like this over the last two days, but four of her companions waited as Sathar and Rilya stepped forward and pushed against one side of the opening. At their combined touch, that side moved, a boulder that fit in perfectly with the wall rolling slightly, widening the cut and revealing the hollow path behind the boulder, wide enough for three people to enter side by side. Rilya turned to look at Ferene, grinning before she vanished into the darkness. The rest of the group followed, Ferene going ahead of Filraehen who waited at the end of the line with the horses.

    Inside the tunnel, the darkness did not last long, a gradual turn hiding faint starlight streaming in from above. Ferene exited the other end into a wide chasm, the stars above framed by the walls that stretched upwards. On the ground in front of her lay a walled wooden platform, ropes attached it vanishing into the sky above. Rilya and Sathar already stood on it, checking the ropes attached to the chest-high side walls at the four corners. The bones they carried were stacked in the middle.

    ¡°It''s time for you to enter Yonthal, the northern stronghold in the mountains.¡± Telhrian said from beside her, the first she''d heard him speak in the last day. Stepping onto the platform, he gestured for her to follow. Ferene stepped forward, along with Alri, leaving Filraehen and Ilraghen with the horses. Ferene and the other two added their Direag bones to the center pile, and Sathar grabbed a loose rope hanging down at one corner and pulled on it sharply two times. After a short delay, the platform started moving upwards.

    To a mixture of disappointment and relief, the lift did not go all the way to the top of the mountains. As much as Ferene was curious about the top, the platform moved very slowly. It came to a stop less than a third of the way up, taking long enough for her to go through surprise at the movement, excitement, and eventually to boredom. There was very little to see with the chasm walls all around them, though looking upwards she eventually made out rope and wooden bridges spanning the gaps.

    Where the lift stopped, the chasm widened, opening up to a set of caves running along the walls. The group stepped out to one side, being greeted by two Hatharen. A third stood back, where the ropes lead to a group of horses standing around a large wheel contraption. Looking around, Ferene saw buildings built into the caves, lights flickering in doorways. Yonthal was literally inside the mountains.

    As the five of them stepped off, taking their cargo with them, the platform slowly fell back into the abyss, the giant wheel turning slowly. The two Hatharen that greeted the group looked at Ferene oddly, followed by a long exchange with Alri that Ferene could not understand. After several minutes, Telhrian led her into the caves, taking a wooden walkway up from the lift landing. With the caves not being even, the pathway from house to house sloped up and down, twisting along. As they walked, Ferene started to see patterns in the design. Most of the stronghold ¨C which seemed more like a small town, now ¨C was built of small houses in sets of three. Some of these groupings were side by side, others separated by the occasional larger construction. One such building appeared to be a smithy of some kind, with multiple chimneys hugging the upper wall of the cave and ending in the open air of the chasm. On the other side, she saw more of the same. The other repeated installation was chicken coops. Every set of three houses had a coop. Closer inspection revealed that many of these groupings, both houses and coops, stood empty, no lights in the houses, the walkway leading to them dusty from lack of use. To Ferene, it looked like nearly half the town stood empty.

    Their path through the stronghold led them to a walkway, branching off to a group of three small houses, arrayed around a central patio with a chicken coop, just like all the others. Telrhian and Alri made for the house to their left, and as Ferene started to follow, Rilya tugged on her arm, gesturing to the one on the right. Ferene followed her, seeing Sathar enter the middle house.

    The house was a simple three room building, two small bedrooms on either side of a central common area with a table, chairs, and a small stove. Rilya pulled Ferene to one of the two bedrooms, stopping to take off her armor and weapons, placing them on a shelf nearby that had individual spots for each piece. Ferene followed suit, looking around for a place to put her things when Rilya took them and distributed them to the lower shelves, even pointing out a spot against the wall for Ferene to lean her sword. When they were both clad in only their underclothes, Rilya pulled Ferene onto the bed.

    Unlike the overly soft bed back in Cefgras, this one felt right. The thin mattress pushed back, not immediately trying to eat the two women as they sat down on it. Rilya smiled at Ferene, rubbing her back, and then lay down. The bed was just big enough for the two of them to sleep side by side, rubbing shoulders slightly. Ferene let out a sigh as she lay down ¨C she could not remember the last time she had a bed like this.

    Just as she started to relax, she bolted upright at the sound of footsteps. Rilya grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. A voice called out, and Rilya answered. A moment later Ilraghen looked into the room, saw Ferene, frowned, and left. Ferene listened to him walk to the other bedroom.

    She woke up the next morning to the surreal feeling of Rilya next to her, still sound asleep. Pulling herself out of bed, she put on her shirt, leggings, and boots, and stepped outside.

    In the central hub of the three buildings, most of the squad sat in a circle around a stone cooking pit Ferene missed last night. Walking over, Ferene saw they were mainly eating eggs, and frowned. Filraehen noticed her, and used a pair of tongs to pull something out of the pit, setting it on a wooden plate which she handed to Ferene. After a moment of inspection, Ferene identified it as sliced potatoes, sprinkled with some sort of herb. Sitting down in the circle, Ferene silently ate, watching her companions. All of them had some kind of biscuit on their plate, in addition to eggs.

    Telhrian sat next to Alri, the two of them talking occasionally between bites. Sathar sat between Filraehen and Ilraghen, all three of them oddly close. Rilya sat down beside her as she ate, taking a plateful of eggs and biscuits. Whenever one finished eating, they remained seated, waiting for the rest. At the campsite, people took their meals and ate wherever they wanted, so this felt like some sort of special ritual that Ferene was involved in despite lacking any understanding. When Rilya finally finished, all of them stood up, Ferene following suit a moment later. Telhrian spoke several words, and everyone else repeated them, then they all broke out of the circle, heading off in different directions.

    Ferene jogged over to Telhrian as he and Alri started to gather all the things from the meal. ¡°What was all of that?¡±

    ¡°We celebrated the fact that all of us came back alive, again.¡±

    Ferene stayed silent, watching as the two collected the stacked plates and utensils, setting them aside. Finally, Telhrian turned to her. ¡°You can stay here, and train with us. There will be a lot of interest in your fighting style, and I feel there is much you can learn. You are, of course, free to leave whenever you want, but I hope that you stay a few weeks, if not longer.¡±

    Questions flew through Ferene''s mind. Excitement. What she had wanted from Linara, Telhrian now presented to her. ¡°I don''t normally sleep in beds. Or with others.¡± She eventually said.

    He paused, looking at her, then at Rilya, tending to the chicken coop near the edge of the wooden platform, closer to the open chasm, then at Ilraghen, standing with Filraehen as the two walked along the path, vanishing from view behind another building. ¡°You are worried that you are disrupting something?¡± Ferene nodded. ¡°You already know that those two are not interested in each other romantically. They may live together but your presence will not cause any trouble, and if it did, he can always stay with someone he is more interested in.¡± Telhrian turned his head once more, looking over at Sathar, who stood at the edge of the chasm, operating a rope pulley to bring something across from the other side. It looked like a bucket.

    ¡°Those three seem close.¡± She said, remembering them sitting together both on the journey over and at breakfast.

    ¡°It is not uncommon for multiple members of a squad to start to feel that way. Sathar and Filraehen are very welcoming to him.¡±

    ¡°So what are the pairings for, then?¡± She finally asked. ¡°You said you could not tell an outsider. I''m inside your town now.¡±

    Pressing his lips together, Telhrian looked at her, considering. ¡°This is a very private matter, but I suppose you should know.¡± He sat down, gesturing for her to do the same. ¡°Hatharen are very bad at...breeding.¡± The word came out quickly after the pause, unlike his normally slow and deliberate speech. ¡°Unlike humans, we do not produce children at will. Once every several hundred years, a female will undergo a change, which she can...share with a male. The two of them will spend some time together, working to...satisfy their new needs.¡± He stumbled over the explanation, his eyes wandering, trying not to look at Ferene. ¡°There are not many of us, so it is important that this opportunity to have a child be taken. The partners are an arrangement to make sure this can happen, regardless of other circumstances. When this happens to Rilya, she would seek out Ilraghen, even if she normally would not. To fulfill her duty. And he would respond, even if he normally would not, to fulfill his duty.¡±

    Ferene frowned. Telhrian grew quieter, now looking downward, almost shamefully. ¡°So Alri would go to you, which is what she normally does.¡±

    His face turned red. ¡°Y-yes, she would. When that happens. That is part of why we celebrate returning together. It means there is a greater chance that we will be able to help our people grow. The war we fight, sometimes we lose too many. If things go badly too many times, there will simply not be enough of us left. It is a danger we have to live with.¡±

    ¡°If I stay here, do I have to find a partner?¡±

    A moment of silence followed her question. His face went from red to pale. He took a deep breath, and looked up, directly at her.

    ¡°Those like you, with mixed blood, cannot have children. That is one of the main complications with having you here. Our society is built around something you cannot participate in. You will be the odd one out, and we cannot send you elsewhere to find a partner, like we would do to keep numbers even.¡±

    Ferene shrugged. ¡°Don''t have to worry about that, then.¡± She said. The information did not change her plans, she never thought about children before. However, Linara''s warnings about staying away lingered in her mind.

 Interlude: Yerodin

    Somehow, Yerodin ended up as a wagon guard.

    A few hundred years ago, a Knight of Resh would never end up as an actual guard for people such as Yerodin''s current employers. Use them as bait, maybe, but never take a regular job protecting them. Times like this, however, left Yerodin few other options. He needed the money for more alcohol.

    As he sat at the front of the second of the two wagons in the line, he thought about all the opportunities he passed up. He could have had a wife, not just any wife but a rich one, as a wealthy merchant he saved once offered him his daughter, and Yerodin got along with her quite well. But, the thought of being stuck in one place formed a dark cloud in his mind, and he ran away.

    There were other situations. Becoming a personal bodyguard for a minor noble. Taking the position as the captain of the city guard. Leading a crew of bounty hunters. Any of these could have saved him from ending up where he was now.

    A younger version of himself wanted only to follow the Knight''s code, what little of it he learned from his mentor before the old woman passed, knowing full well the order was long dead. Still, he wanted to preserve what was left, and so here he was, middle aged and still wrapped in armor, his sword - longer than he was tall, made for someone not of his below average height - sitting across his knees as he watched the barren countryside slowly roll past. If he was lucky, the trip would go by without incident. Two more guards ¨C people he didn''t know ¨C rode on the first wagon in the line, pretending to be on the lookout with their crossbows sitting beside them.

    Before the two wagon caravan, the road ahead curved around a bend far in the distance, a hill obstructing their vision. If someone was going to ambush them, that was the obvious place to do it. He had heard rumors of bandits not far to the north, which is why this group of traders had purchased the services of three guards. Yerodin scratched his chin, standing up to get a better view of the road. Too far from the capitol to be fully stone, the road was coarse dirt with two rows of stone bordering it. Beyond that stone lay knee-high grass with patches of mud from last night''s rain. The bend before them was an obvious place for an ambush, but it would be more effective if-

    Before he could even finish the thought, shapes rose up out of the grass. ¡°We''re under attack!¡± He yelled, jumping off the wagon, coming crashing down on the road with his sword in his hands. Three of the muddy, grass-covered attackers in front of him hesitated upon seeing him armed and fully armored, challenging them.

    Then he heard a series of sounds that sunk his heart.

    A crossbow cracking as it launched a bolt. Someone screamed in pain. Shouting. A riding crop smacking the back of a horse. The idiots were running, following the road, around the blind corner in a desperate attempt to get away from their attackers, leaving Yerodin alone. They didn''t realize him jumping down meant they should stay and fight here. Why would they? Guards like them didn''t think that far ahead. The merchant family that owned the wagons could only think about running. Yerodin stood alone against seven attackers, three in front of him and four behind. With an excited yell, three of them ran off, chasing the wagons. He did not follow ¨C what point was there, clanking after them in armor, when neither he nor they would catch the horses? Fools.

    Not as foolish as the four that stayed behind, though. Looking more closely at them as they moved to surround him, Yerodin saw he was fighting children. Barely into their teens, the bare-faced, mud covered, lanky things held daggers and clubs, not proper swords. He stood with full armor and a greatsword. He sighed. ¡°I don''t want to fight children. Drop your weapons and piss off.¡±

    The largest of the bunch, holding a long, thick club, ran at him, swinging wildly. Yerodin grabbed the weapon with his hand, reaching out to intercept it before the boy could build momentum with the swing. When he tried to yank the weapon out of his hands, the boy let go and dove at him, trying to grab his legs. Yerodin kicked him in the face, sending him rolling backwards with a broken, bleeding nose. ¡°This is a joke. What do you really expect to accomplish here?¡±

    Glancing at the youth to his right, the tall one pulled a short knife out from behind him and the two started to advance, slowly. With the other two behind him, Yerodin decided this one had enough chances. He surged forward, swinging his sword at the tall boy. The reaction was there, but poorly executed. He brought up his dagger in an attempt to block the swing, but Yerodin''s sword snapped the small blade, taking the wielder''s hand with it. The boy screamed.

    ¡°I''ll give the rest of you ano-¡±

    Something hit him in the back, impacting his breastplate just below his neck. A little higher and they would have hit him in the head and actually done something. Yerodin spun, finding the second boy right in front of him, already swinging his knife at his head. Taking his right hand off his sword, he slapped the child, gauntlet-clad hand striking soft flesh, sending him tumbling to the ground. A third rushed at him, only for Yerodin to reach out and grab him by the neck. Hoisting the white-haired child up, he glared at him, fingers threatening to crush his neck.

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    ¡°Let him go!¡± A high-pitch voice yelled, as the last one rushed forward, fast. Yerodin turned, but too late. This one approached from his right, where he couldn''t reach, and drove a dagger into the gap in his armor under his raised arm.

    He let go. The child fell to the ground, scrambling away. ¡°Run!¡± The other yelled, and the boy stood up and fled. Yerodin turned to this one, the one that stabbed him. Unarmed, the knife still in his side, this one stood, glaring at him defiantly, out of his range. He looked at this one more closely. Pointed ears jutted out from orange hair. A Hatharen. He had heard about them, but never seen one before. None of the stories mentioned their children.

    It didn''t matter. Yerodin laughed. He could feel himself bleeding. He was dead. If he pulled the knife out, he would only make himself bleed faster. ¡°You got me. You won.¡± He said, and sat down on the road. The Hatharen stared at him.

    Yerodin put his sword across his knees as he sat, his right arm held up at an uncomfortable angle. No stranger to being stabbed, the pain didn''t bother him. He was fairly sure he didn''t even care that he was dead. He was entirely certain he didn''t care at all about what happened to the wagons. ¡°You. Boy. What''s your name?¡±

    The Hatharen stared at him, suspiciously, before glancing at the boy on the ground. The one he had slapped. The boy''s head was twisted unnaturally far. Unlucky for him. ¡°Ferene. Not a boy.¡±

    ¡°Ferene. Weird name. That little one your friend? You only fought when I grabbed him.¡±

    She nodded, looking over his shoulder. The big one with no hand should be back there. Kid might have gone into shock. Might be dead already. She didn''t move, instead looking back at Yerodin.

    ¡°You fought to protect your friend. I like that. You killed me, even. Lucky for you. What''s your plan now?¡±

    She just stared at him. She didn''t have a weapon, with him in possession of her knife. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°I''m going to bleed to death, just like the one behind me. Thought I''d get to talk with the one that killed me. You''re young. You killed people before?¡±

    Her fingers twitched. She looked him up and down, eyes settling on his sword. ¡°Yeah. They weren''t armed.¡±

    ¡°Farmers? Merchants? Children?¡± She nodded. ¡°Innocents that didn''t do anything to hurt you?¡± She hesitated, then nodded, frowning. ¡°The adults make you do it?¡± She nodded. He laughed. She jumped backwards at the sound, her eyes fixed on him once again.

    ¡°You think they made you do it. You just killed me, though. You could kill them, too, if you wanted. You''re fast on your feet. Do you like killing helpless people?¡± She shook her head. The girl looked scared. Scared of a dead man. Funny. He could still kill her, though. A thought came to him. ¡°Hey, you want my sword?¡±

    She looked down at his sword, then back up at him. She nodded.

    ¡°Well too bad. I won''t give it to you. Unless you promise to do what I want.¡±

    ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Want you to kill those bastards. Want you to get away from them. Want you to stop killing innocents. Make the promise, and you can have my sword.¡±

    ¡°If I don''t?¡±

    ¡°I''ll get up, walk over there, and kill you just as dead as those other two. I have enough strength left to do that.¡± He wasn''t sure if he did. It didn''t matter. He was going to die, and she was afraid of him. She stared at him, her lips twitching back and forth. She nodded. ¡°Say it.¡± He demanded.

    ¡°I''ll kill the leader and run away. And I won''t kill anyone that doesn''t deserve it. I promise.¡±

    One handed, he tossed the sword across the gap. It landed in the dirt in front of her. ¡°I deserve it, you know? For killing kids today. Kids young as you don''t know any better. But you will, after this. That''s a cursed sword, you know?¡± He laughed. She didn''t look like she believed him. He didn''t care. ¡°I''m the last of the Knights of Resh. I''d tell you what that means, but it would take too long. You can''t be one, even if you have the sword. But a bunch of dead people are watching that sword. Use it wrong and you''ll pay.¡± He laughed again. Yerodin was never good at stories. Never good with children. Never good at much of anything aside from killing and drinking. The truth was he didn''t deserve those other opportunities. Bleeding to death on some unnamed road, killed by a child, that was what he did deserve. ¡°Have a good life, Ferene.¡± He yanked the dagger out of his armpit.

    It hurt. There was a lot of blood. He leaned back, laying on the road, looking up at the sky. Yerodin wondered if any of it mattered.

 Chapter 6: Edge of the World - 1

    After tending the morning chores, the squad split up, going off in different directions. Ferene followed Rilya as she left the circular platform, taking the wooden path as it lead along the edge of the chasm, eventually curving upwards and turning out, connecting to a rope bridge. Rilya started across, but Ferene hesitated, glancing down at the seemingly endless depths. Yesterday, she stood on the ground at the bottom. Now, the darkness swallowed that same ground. Shivering slightly, she trotted across the wooden planks to catch up to Rilya.

    On the other side of the chasm, the two climbed a ladder before coming into the cave. Ferene noticed this cave stretched further away from their starting point. Not only was the stronghold on both sides of the chasm, it also consisted of multiple separated chambers, stretching along the walls. The separation would make it easy to defend if an invading force somehow took one of the caves.

    Next to their entry point stood a long building with an open front, facing a large circle filled with dirt. Ferene followed Rilya towards it, noticing a rack against the back wall holding weapons. As the two got closer, Ferene realized these were wooden weapons, and she even saw several analogs for her greatsword on one section of the weapons rack. Rilya picked one of these out and handed it to Ferene, then picked up two to match her weapons. Following her out into the circle, Ferene realized the purpose of it ¨C a training arena. The dirt made for better padding than rock or wood. Smiling at Ferene, Rilya started moving, going into a series of poses and swings. Some of the stances and swings Ferene recognized from their earlier sparring sessions, while others surprised her. Taking the hint, Ferene started her own practice routine, swinging the wooden sword in a familiar pattern of movements, one flowing into the next, twirling, ducking, dodging and parrying and counter attacking. On the riverbank, when she was still recovering, she could not fully devote herself to this kind of practice. Now, she increased her speed, moving faster, swinging harder. When was the last time she practiced like this? Back on the farm, after her dream, before-

    Ferene finished her motion and came to a stop, panting. Everything that happened over the last week, the Direag, meeting the Hatharen, all her interactions with Rilya, all the information she gained from Telhrian, all of it distracted her from the memory. As she caught her breath, Rilya stepped to her side, her mouth set in a slight frown. Hesitation? Ferene tried her best to smile reassuringly. Smiling felt wrong. Spending time with Rilya left her happy, but did she deserve that? Her hands shook as she lowered her weapon.

    Looking around, she noticed at some point in her practice, an audience gathered. Ten or so Hatharen stood just outside the circle, watching. Watching her, looking down at her with their height. Why did they look at her? Because she killed some wounded beast, nearly dying in the process? She heard the wooden weapon hit the dirt, but did not remember dropping it. She backed away from the crowd, pausing at the edge of the arena. Several more paces and the rock wall of the cave would cut off her retreat. Rilya grabbed her arm, looking at her, her hesitation replaced with worry. Ferene wanted to reassure her, to make her go away. To make them all go away. To make it all have never happened. The promise she made to only kill those that hurt others, to never again take the life of someone innocent, she wanted to go back to that time. She wanted to believe that she was making up for her past, making the world better.

    Ferene specialized in running. She ran past Rilya, past the small round arena. She jumped down onto the wooden bridge, running across it, not looking down, not even thinking of what was below. She ran along the path, past the squad''s houses, past surprised Hatharen going about their daily routines, past the horse-operated lift, all the way to the other end of the cavern, across another bridge, to an unfamiliar opening in the wall of the mountain. She ran past houses and larger buildings, jumping down another ladder, crossing yet another bridge, entering yet another cavern, until the path stopped. Ferene came to a halt, finding only rock in front of her.

    She was alone. No more wooden buildings, no more Hatharen, all of that was behind her. Here, there was only her and the mountain. She put her hand against the wall, pushing. The mountain did not move.

    In her dream, she did not cry. But now, here, at the border of a world she knew and a world she didn''t, Ferene let the sobs take her. Pressing herself against the cold wall of stone, she curled into a ball and gave in to the emotions she spent years holding back.

    Someone put their hand on her head, gently rubbing their fingers through her hair. Stifling her sobs, Ferene looked up. The Hatharen looking down at her, arm outstretched, did not resemble any of the others. Ferene pushed herself to her feet, coming eye to chin with them. The Hatharen smiled at her as she looked them over. Thin, lacking the muscle mass that all the others possessed. They wore their long red hair pulled back, leaving their forehead bare.

    ¡°Why are you sad?¡±

    Ferene stared at them for a moment, processing the words. Yes, she understood them. They could speak her language. ¡°I remembered something.¡±

    With a tilt of their head, they smiled at her again. ¡°If remembering it makes you sad, you should forget about it. Make new memories until it goes away.¡±

    ¡°I have to remember it.¡± Ferene shook her head. ¡°I''m sad because I broke a promise. I have to remember the promise.¡±

    Sitting down next to her, they patted her on the back. ¡°If you broke a promise, you have forever to make up for it.¡±

    ¡°I don''t have that long.¡± She shook her head again. ¡°Telhrian told me that after a few hundred years I''ll stop.¡±

    After a moment of silence, Ferene looked at the strange Hatharen. They stared back, blinking slowly. ¡°You''re the part human one they brought back.¡±

    Ferene nodded. ¡°I was just practicing, and there were ten, maybe fifteen of them, all looking at me, like I''m some great person. Rilya...Rilya treats me well. And Telhrian, and the others, but they don''t know I''m just a murderer. I''m a monster just like that thing I killed.¡±

    ¡°Do you know that for sure?¡± Her companion''s voice stayed level, but took a harder edge to it. Ferene could only shake her head, suddenly unsure. ¡°An entire squad is gone, because of the monster you killed. Six lives that should have gone on forever, instead snuffed out. None of them are coming back.¡±

    Another silence followed, the two of them sitting side by side, no longer making any contact or saying any words, until the sound of footsteps broke it. Ferene looked up to see Rilya walked towards her, a concerned look on her face. She crouched down in front of Ferene, pulling her into an embrace. Ferene didn''t resist, didn''t react. She wanted to push Rilya away, but it was Rilya. She couldn''t bring herself to do it.

    ¡°Rilya loves you. Rilya loves Ferene.¡± For a moment, Ferene thought she imagined it, but Rilya repeated the words. Each word was pronounced slowly, deliberately. ¡°Rilya loves you.¡± Ferene reached up and wrapped her arms around Rilya, pressing her face against the larger woman''s chest. ¡°Rilya loves Ferene.¡±

    ¡°Ferene loves Rilya.¡± At her words, Rilya slowly stood up, pulling Ferene with her. They stood, holding each, whispering back and forth, until Ferene''s arms dropped back to her sides. Rilya let her go, stepping away and looking at their observer.

    ¡°Tahrean.¡±

    ¡°Rilya.¡± They replied, standing up, smiling, before rattling off a string of words in Hatharen. As Ferene watched, Rilya''s face shifted from a kind smile to a frown which got deeper as she listened. When they finished, Rilya grabbed Ferene again, squeezing her tightly, whispering several words to her that she didn''t understand.

    ¡°Rilya wants you to know that whatever you have done in the human lands doesn''t matter here, and won''t change how she feels about you.¡±

    ¡°Is Tahrean your name?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°I''m Ferene.¡± She said, still wrapped in Rilya''s arms. Tapping her on the back, she managed to pull herself free, smiling up at her friend.

    ¡°You two should be going. Remember, Ferene; you have time to fix whatever you think you''ve done wrong. Not as much as anyone else here, but more than any human. More than anyone you made that promise to.¡±

    Ferene did not return to the practice arena that day. Rilya walked her all the way back to the first cave, with the squad''s houses, and the two started work on chores. Ferene mostly followed what Rilya did, first carrying laundry, then going to a different part of the cave to pick up food for dinner and the next day''s breakfast. A trip up a much smaller moving platform took them to a higher cave, where Ferene saw gardens built into the cliff face. After listening to a short conversation in Hatharen, Ferene found herself carrying an armful of potatoes and turnips.

    Filraehen cooked dinner that evening, dicing the vegetables into a soup and pairing it with bread. Ferene watched the preparation, not knowing what else to do. At first she felt guilty ¨C the meal was being made because of her ¨C but thinking back to earlier in the day, she decided this was a favor she would pay them back for. If they wanted to train with her, she would show them what she could do. The entire stronghold could watch her tomorrow.

    Six of them sat down to eat. Alri sat alone on her side of the circle, but she ate and smiled and talked with the others. Telhrian''s absence left Ferene without a translator, so she ate in silence, occasionally smiling at Rilya next to her.

    Halfway through the meal, he arrived, jogging into the circle, covered in dirt. Alri set her bowl down and stood up, looking at him in concern. After giving her a smile and a brief touch on the arm, he turned to Ferene and held something out to her.

    Some kind of plant, with a thick stem that ended in an angular pod sticking out at a sharp angle. The top of the pod split open, and thin, sharp-looking, white flower petals stuck out of the pod at varying angles.

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    ¡°I had to search for it, but I found one.¡± He said as she took it from him. ¡°In the mountains, they are white, but I''m told that they can be a bright orange color lower down.¡±

    Holding it, Ferene turned the flower around, looking at it from various angles. It was a very strange flower, unlike any she had seen before. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I do not know the human name for it.¡± Telhrian said. ¡°However, in our language, this flower is called ''ferene''. I thought I''d get one for you.¡±

    Blinking, she looked at the flower again. Large, sharp, and strange. Ferene found her thoughts racing. Her mother named her. Did she know the flower had the same name? She must have. How did she know? Did Ferene''s father tell her? Did the flower mean something to her, or to him? Did it mean something to Ferene? She never saw her mother doing anything with plants, didn''t remember her saying anything about flowers.

    Feeling Rilya''s hand on her back, the rush of thoughts stopped. She looked up at Telhrian. ¡°Thank you.¡± With a nod, he poured himself a bowl of soup, grabbed a bread roll, and sat down next to Alri.

    The sounds of the Hatharen conversation started up again, but Ferene didn''t busy herself with watching their expressions as they talked. Her eyes were focused entirely on the flower she held. She spun it around and around, slowly. Rilya tapped her on the shoulder, and presented her with a jar. Ferene looked at her in confusion for a moment, then peaked inside. Water. A vase. Placing the stem in the jar, she smiled as Rilya walked over and set it next to the entryway of their dwelling.

    Long after the light shining into the chasm faded, Ferene sat in front of the fire. With dinner finished, the chairs were stowed to the side, leaving the open flame in the center of their small courtyard to be enjoyed like a campfire. To her left, Sathar sat cross-legged on the ground, Ilraghen laying down beside him, head in his lap. Sathar idly stroked the other''s hair as he watched the fire.

    Hatharen didn''t make much sense, Ferene decided. Before, Ilraghen wanted her dead. Argued for it, fought for it. He lost the argument and the fight, but that didn''t change anything. Yet, both then and now, he sat and ate with her, as if none of it happened. She stared at him, sleeping as Sathar ran his fingers through his shoulder-length brown hair. He looked completely harmless like this.

    ¡°Something bothering you?¡±

    ¡°He wanted to keep me out, even if it meant killing me, but-¡± She trailed off, suddenly looking directly at Sathar. He smiled back at her. ¡°All along?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Every group has at least two that speak your language.¡± Ferene thought back to all her interactions with them. Filraehen had plenty of opportunities to speak with her. She met Alri once in the woods. Ilraghen surely would have said something to her if he could. She never once interacted directly with Sathar.

    He chuckled softly. ¡°He saw you as a risk, and couldn''t trust you. Not enough to let you in, and not enough to let you go. He didn''t want us to turn our backs to someone who might be dangerous, just because they looked friendly.¡± Ferene frowned at the choice of words. ¡°I agreed with him, but we also trust each other. The group is more important than what any one of us wants. When he failed to convince them, he decided he would trust you. He even put himself in a position where you could have killed him. The group wants to have you, and he is part of the group.¡±

    ¡°Should I forgive him?¡±

    Sathar shrugged. ¡°Dwelling on disagreements is a human thing. You can do so, if you want, but the rest of us won''t. We want to be happy together.¡±

    Considering this, Ferene fell silent. Something about being with these people made her think less about her past, but when she did think about it, it felt much worse. She felt guilty for ignoring it. Could she forget what she had done, just like that, and simply move on? Stay with them and be happy? Stay with Rilya and this group? At a glance, they all looked happy, but something bothered her.

    ¡°What do you know about Tahrean?¡±

    Upon hearing the question, Sathar froze, his hand resting on Ilraghen''s head. Looking directly at Ferene now, he frowned at her. ¡°I would start by asking you the same thing.¡±

    ¡°I found them in an empty cavern at the edge of the stronghold. They were the only one there. Seemed odd.¡±

    ¡°It is.¡± He took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. ¡°Tahrean is very old. They disagree with how things are, so they stay alone, to avoid causing any trouble. It is a choice they made. I do not know much beyond that. You''ll have to ask them.¡± He patted Ilraghen on the shoulder, and the smaller Hatharen opened his eyes, looking up. The two of them go to their feet and went to their dwelling, leaving Ferene alone. Disagreements, it seemed, were not something to bring up.

    Ferene easily fell into the morning schedule of the group. The seven of them ate breakfast together, did chores, and headed their separate ways. Ferene followed Rilya to the training arena again, and they started out just like they did the previous day.

    This time, Ferene did not pay attention to the audience. She completed her warm up and turned to Rilya. With a nod, the two started sparring, wooden weapons clacking against each other. It felt different from how they fought by the river. Rilya was no longer testing her limits, but instead demonstrating them, forcing Ferene to show off for the audience, like a rehearsed show. Parrying strings of fast attacks, dodging otherwise unexpected strikes, Ferene found herself simply reacting to Rilya, easily matching her pace while maintaining her defense.

    Stepping back, Rilya smiled at Ferene, nodding again. Not sure what this meant, Ferene nodded back, preparing herself for anything.

    Rilya came at her, faster than Ferene had seen her move before. Where she managed to keep pace before, she was just barely in time to block each attack. Ferene suffered light taps to her arms and shoulders as she failed to block Rilya''s second sword a few times. While Ferene was clearly losing, it felt amazing. Seeing Rilya fight this close to her reminded her of watching Linara take on the soldiers. This was what she wanted to be, the way she wanted to move. Not with brute force drawn from anger, but with a seamless, flowing strength, the speed to connect one movement to the next formlessly.

    Despite the admiration, Ferene did not want to lose.

    The crossguard of her wooden sword did not properly match her real weapon, simply being a straight piece of wood sticking out of the edges. It was not curved upwards to allow her to catch weapons, so the trick she used against Ilraghen would not work here. However, there were other things she could do with it. On Rilya''s next attack, she held her sword in front of her, point towards the ground, and swept it to the side, catching the swing and moving it away from her. As Rilya tried to bring her weapon up, over the top, Ferene slammed the crossguard against her wrist while stepping forward. Holding her sword with one hand, she punched Rilya''s other arm, stopping her off-hand attack. Then Ferene ducked her head and rammed her shoulder into her opponent''s chest, sending them both toppling to the ground.

    There was a moment where the two stared at each other, panting, on the ground, their faces just barely apart, before the cheering from the onlookers drew their attention away from each other. Both of them stood up before the group.

    What followed Ferene could only describe as the longest, most intense fight of her life. The Hatharen present took turns fighting her, with a variety of combat styles and weapons. Ferene experienced techniques she had never seen before, weapons she didn''t understand the benefits of, and a combination of stinging defeats and close victories. Some of them, she was sure, were simply testing her, while others put their all into it to test themselves. After what felt like hours, she was tired, sore, soaked in sweat, covered in dirt, and had gained a collection of bruises on her arms and torso, but she had fought everyone there at least once, and they all stood around the arena with smiles on their faces.

    Rilya said something to them, and then pulled Ferene aside, leading her deeper into the cavern, through tunnels carved into the stone, lit by lanterns hanging on the walls. Curious, Ferene followed, and quickly heard the sound of running water. Turning a corner, she found the source of it: a waterfall inside the cave, forming a small stream that vanished into a cave wall.

    Silently stripping, the two of them waded into the cold, waist-deep water, Rilya first with Ferene following. Taking the Hatharen''s hand, Ferene let herself be pulled under the waterfall. Carrying momentum from far above, the water pounded against Ferene''s skin as she shivered. Rilya moved underneath with her, rubbing her shoulders. As they washed each other, Rilya smiled at Ferene, but did not get one in return. Watching her expression falter, Ferene pulled her into an embrace. Surrounded by the sounds of the waterfall, Ferene barely heard Rilya repeating her words from the previous day. As much as the words meant to Ferene, something bothered her. Deep inside, something felt wrong, she just didn''t know what it was.

    Washed and dressed in clean clothes, Ferene found herself with nothing to do. After a quick kiss, Rilya trotted off, motioning for Ferene not to follow. So she instead retracted her path from the previous day, moving back and forth between the two sides of the stronghold as she slowly navigated from one end to the other, until she once again found herself in the mostly-empty cave. Taking a better look around, she saw a single hut tucked into the back, looking odd as it stood alone, not like the clusters of three in the other caverns. Not long after she arrived, the person she was looking for stepped out, a slight frown on their face as they approached.

    ¡°It''s not often that I get daily visitors.¡± Tahrean noted, looking Ferene over. They wore the same simple clothes as every other Hatharen, white shirt and brown pants, and would not look out of place at any gathering, but instead they lived here, alone.

    ¡°I want to know more about you.¡±

    Tahrean raised a hand to their head, pulling absently at their hair. ¡°What about me? I live in this cave, I don''t go out to fight, I only visit the others occasionally for food or some other supplies when I run low.¡±

    ¡°And before that?¡±

    For a moment, just a moment, Tahrean''s eyes seemed to look through Ferene, focusing on a far-off point deep in the mountain wall behind her, then it passed. The Hatharen''s frown vanished, replaced with a completely neutral expression. ¡°That was a long time ago.¡±

    Ferene ignored the oddness. ¡°How long ago?¡±

    Letting out a sigh, Tahrean shrugged. ¡°I don''t know. It''s difficult to keep count, when there is no one to count with me. Not other soul in these caves remembers those times, as they did not live then. Things were different then. I was different then.¡±

    ¡°How were things different?¡±

    ¡°We were a people of laughter and art. A soft, weak people. We accepted there would not be many of us. We did not spend so much effort pursuing breeding.¡± Their face twists with the last word, spitting it out. Ferene finds herself tensing up at the shift in Tahrean''s tone, the gentle voice turning hostile suddenly. ¡°I see you, Ferene, the way you coil, the way you ready yourself. I will not attack you. I am not a warrior. In that way, you are more like them than I am.¡± Their voice turned sad. ¡°Every one of them is a warrior. They take turns fighting, hunting their eternal foes, fighting their war. They defend a people they do not know, fight for a purpose they barely understand, throw away an infinite amount of potential preparing for their own deaths. Yet unlike you they did not even make a promise. They do not strive to fix the world, they simply blindly fight, uselessly fight. They live endless years yet never grow beyond being children, loving like children, making petty rules and systems to live by as they wait for their chance to die. They choose to forget rather than forgive. They are all so old yet still so young. In this way even you are older than them, though they would think you a child.¡±

    Ferene found herself unable to move as Tahrean spoke, their eyes meeting hers, holding her in place with just their gaze. In those eyes she saw anger and sadness, but it faded quickly after the rant ended. ¡°I''m sorry.¡± Tahrean said, looking away. ¡°I have lived too long without anyone to talk to. Go, leave me be for today. I will gather my thoughts and prepare a proper explanation for you.¡± They looked at her and smiled. Ferene only saw pain. ¡°I find it embarrassing that I do not have one already prepared and practiced, with all the time there was, but I never expected someone like yourself to be the one to ask.¡±

    Without even waiting for a response, Tahrean turned and walked away, back towards the lone hut. Ferene watched them as they go, feeling a new kind of fear.

 Chapter 6: Edge of the World - 2

    For her, dinner was more silent than usual. She stared at her food as she ate, not watching the others. Rilya patted her on the shoulder, but Ferene shrugged her off, giving her an apologetic smile. Wordless communication between the two of them, as always, the smile responded to with a slow nod. A simple exchange.

    The next morning followed the pattern of the previous day. Breakfast, chores, and to the training arena. Stretches, followed by mock combat. Challenger after challenger fought Ferene, and she did her best to fight back. Yesterday, some of them tested her, and she managed to win. Today, they did not test her. Defeat after defeat was not a harrowing experience for her. After seeing Linara fight, she knew the strength of the Hatharen. These warriors specialized in melee combat, entirely unlike Ilraghen. Every second she delayed her defeat, every time she made one of them falter for even an instant, every blow she narrowly avoided and every bruise she took when she didn''t was a valuable experience.

    Long ago, there was a time she fought this same way, fighting boys with blunted swords and knives. Far from sparring, those brawls were displays of skill and strength to the onlookers, to each other. Establishing intimidation and dominance, showing promise and value. The adults laughed as the children beat each other senseless. At first Ferene was smaller than her opponents, but she quickly outgrew them, but only because she survived. She was the smallest here, too, but she would not outgrow the Hatharen. There was no laughter, but applause at the end of every match, regardless of the result.

    So she fought, opponent after opponent, parrying mock spears, swords, and a variety of other weapons. Knives, clubs, weights on chains, greatswords like hers and curved one-sided swords with hooked backs, axes of varying lengths, all replicated in crude weighted wood. The arsenal of the Hatharen extended far beyond what she saw in the human lands.

    As Ferene fell to the ground yet again, the small audience quieted. Looking up, she saw her opponent staring at something behind her. Following her gaze, Ferene saw Sathar stepping into the circle, the towering Hatharen holding a blunted spear. She scrambled to her feet and turned to face him as her previous opponent stepped away. Behind Sathar, she saw Ilraghen, his lips pressed tightly together.

    Sathar held his spear low, in both hands, fake tip towards Ferene. She fell into her own stance in turn. While Sathar could talk to her, he remained as silent as all her other opponents. For a moment, she wondered if any of them spoke her language, but then he attacked.

    Unlike her other opponents, Sathar moved with a wildness. Not something random, but with a disregard for himself. As Ferene blocked the first thrust she saw multiple openings, but stayed on the defensive. Sathar repeated the risky, all out attacks, throwing himself into every strike, almost as if he wanted Ferene to beat him. On the ninth attack, Ferene pushed his spear to the side, stepping forward into him, driving her elbow into his shoulder, hoping to make him drop his weapon.

    He did exactly what she wanted, with a smile. Taking his hand off the shaft of the spear, he grabbed her and pinned her against his body, trapping her arms at her sides. She dropped her sword immediately, squirming in his grip and kicking at his legs as he lifted her off the ground. Ferene felt like a child, helpless against his size as he started laughing.

    Letting out a sigh, Ferene stopped struggling, accepting yet another defeat. She had fallen for his trap. Getting inside the range of his spear meant little when he was so much larger than her. A tactic no human opponent could pull off. Dropping her, Sathar nodded to her and walked away from the training ring, Ilraghen shaking his head. Whatever they wanted from her, it seemed like she failed.

    Once more Rilya led her, battered, bruised, and sweaty, to the bathing tunnel, where they washed each other in an awkward silence. Rilya smiled at her, and Ferene smiled back, but there was worry in her eyes. Ferene reached out, pulling the Hatharen into an embrace.

    Rilya left, going to attend to whatever she did later in the day, and Ferene found Sathar and Ilraghen waiting to intercept her before she could visit Tahrean.

    ¡°He wants to show you his own excellence.¡± Sathar said, clasping Ilraghen¡¯s shoulder. The smaller Hatharen wore his longbow on his back. Ferene looked at them oddly, and followed them as they walked away, gesturing for her to follow. The two lead her to a large basket-like cage, just barely big enough for the three of them to stand in, shoulder to shoulder. Grabbing the rope hanging down beside it, Sathar pulled, hand over hand, and the ground fell away beneath them.

    The cage stopped not far below the top off the cliffs, coming up to a ledge that gently sloped upwards. A short walk later, and Ferene stared out at the world. To the south lay everything she ever knew, and to the north, across the plateau, something else waited. She did not look at it, instead staring across the land that raised her. Roads and rivers stood out, far below, and she could even see Cefgras, the city lazily sprawling across the plains. Politely, her guides waited, letting her take in the sight, before Sathar put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her away, pointing instead along the plateau. Squinting, Ferene could make out what looked like a table in the distance.

    Ilraghen took his bow off his back, nocked an arrow, and breathed in. Bringing the weapon up to his face, he waited, calmly holding the string back, muscles tense, his body perfectly still. One second. Another. Ferene did not know what he was waiting for. Then he let go. ¡°Go get it.¡± Sathar said, smiling at her and pointing towards the table.

    Ferene smiled back. She wasn¡¯t sure if he knew, but this was her moment. The second day, when she ran from the training arena, constricted by the pathways, she could not properly stretch her legs. Here, she could. She crouched down and launched herself forward, legs slamming into the ground as she ran. Not only were there no obstacles, but she was completely unencumbered. No armor, no sword on her back, no gear at all. The wind rushed over her, her hair flowing behind her as she ran. For a moment, there was nothing else. No worry, no guilt, no regret. It did not last. She was too fast, slowing down as she approached the table.

    While the wooden table looked sturdy, it also showed the signs of practice. The surface was scarred and chipped, gouges of arrows sliding along the surface and pits of ones that fell from above. From the battered, uneven surface rose a round, wooden pole, barely thicker than her finger. From the pole protruded a single arrow. Ferene pulled it out and ran back.

    ¡°Did he hit?¡± Sathar asked when she arrived, the smile on his face echoed on Ilraghen¡¯s. Ferene simply held the arrow out to them. ¡°Everyone has a role in a squad. Rilya and I are the front line and the muscle. We train to fight even when outnumbered. There is a trust between us, I know she will guard my back and she knows I will guard hers. Ilraghen is our long range specialist and assassin. We trust him even when he is far away, hidden from view, waiting for his moment. Filraehen is the doctor. She makes sure we live long enough to properly heal. We trust her judgment and do what she tells us.¡± He paused. ¡°Also, she cooks. Alri is our scout and our tracker. She goes out alone, and we trust that she will come back. No worrying, no following. She works alone and we trust her to do that.¡±

    Sathar paused again. ¡°And Telhrian? What is his role in all of this?¡± Ferene asked. She never saw him fight, and the equipment he wore did not give her any information. She wondered about it a few times.

    ¡°We keep him around to make us laugh.¡± Sathar said. Ferene frowned at the answer. ¡°Where do you fit in, Ferene? Life with us is more than just sparring, eating, and kissing. Our break will come to an end, and we will descend into the wild lands. What does the seventh member do?¡±

    ¡°I can run.¡±

    Raising an eyebrow at her, Sathar smiled. ¡°I do not think you are unique in that.¡±

    ¡°Tell him to shoot another arrow.¡± Ferene gestured to Ilraghen. ¡°Then try to retrieve it before I do.¡±

    He laughed, then said something to his friend. Ferene watched as the short Hatharen repeated his earlier process, breathing in, aiming, waiting, and loosing. As soon as the bowstring snapped forward, she ran.

    Ferene was not certain she could outrun Sathar. She had never seen any of them run, but if she could not do this, then he was right. Unlike her last run, she did not let her mind empty as she felt the wind on her face. She pushed herself, straining, feeling the muscles of her legs stretch with every step, leaning forward. No pacing, just a sprint, as fast as she could go.

    She arrived at the target table first. She arrived sooner than she expected, not having time to slow down. Instead, she jumped, leaping over the table, snatching the arrow from the post as she went. Of course Ilraghen hit the target. She landed on her feet and stumbled to a stop on the other side, turning back to look at Sathar.

    He stood next to Ilraghen, a small figure in the distance. He didn¡¯t even try to challenge her. She returned to the two of them, casually loping the distance, a fraction of her former speed. Both of them were smiling at her, grins wider than ever. Staring at him in silence, she presented the arrow again.

    Ilraghen took it from her, and both of them turned and walked down the slope back towards the basket cage.

    ¡°Come spar with me tomorrow.¡± She said to Telhrian as the seven of them ate dinner. ¡°Bring those two with you.¡±

    He looked over at Alri and Filraehen, then back at Ferene. ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡±

    ¡°Sathar talked to me about trust. He says you all need to be able to trust me, but I need to be able to trust all of you. I know what half of you can do. I need to see the rest.¡±

    She waited as he talked to the two women. Sathar smiled at her from the other side of the circle. She smiled back.

    ¡°Tomorrow, then.¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Ferene did not meet the three of them in the training arena.

    Their breakfast the next morning was disrupted by a loud ringing sound echoing through the stronghold. Six Hatharen jumped to their feet and ran into their houses, Ferene following Rilya just a moment after. She found her friend hastily putting on her armor, and stopped to help her before donning her own. Grabbing their weapons - real, sharpened metal - they ran back outside. The other five waited for them, and then all seven ran down the pathway. Ferene followed, resisting the urge to run ahead. She did not know what was happening, or where they were going, but the group ran in silence, and she saw other groups doing the same, all of them also fully geared.

    Their journey came to an end at a large wooden platform suspended between the two cliff walls, stretching across the gap. Not a rope bridge, but a solid, single structure, big enough to hold the massive amount of Hatharen that showed up. Pushing away the feeling of being dwarfed by every single one of them, Ferene turned to Sathar, who was closer to her, and asked what was going on.

    Giving her a short glance, he waited until a voice spoke over the crowd, and then started translating. ¡°Scouts have spotted a large group of monsters coming from the west. We think they are being pursued by a force from Treventhal, who are pushing them into us. We are going to go down and crush them.¡±

    ¡°How many are there?¡±

    ¡°That does not matter. We stop them or they will pass over the mountains.¡±

    Ferene had more questions, but she took a deep breath and pushed them from her mind. All around her were looks of grim determination. Spending all this time with them made her ask too many questions, it was easier to just do instead of think. She reached up and touched the hilt of her sword on her shoulder. It was time to fight.

    Rather, it was time to fall. Hatharen moved to the edge of the platform, grabbed ropes, and slid down into the dark abyss below. Ferene saw Alri hop over the edge, followed by Rilya, then Sathar. Filraehen stepped up, waited a few moments, just like those before, and flung herself over the edge, holding onto the rope as she went. Ilraghen did the same, and then Telhrian looked back at Ferene, nodded, and followed suit.

    All around her, the groups were doing the same. Stepping to the edge, Ferene looked down. She could not see the bottom. For a moment, her breathing stopped, the darkness holding her sight, reaching out to her, drawing her in. She jumped, reaching out and grabbing the rope just barely.

    How long did she fall? Maybe it was seconds, maybe it was minutes. Darkness surrounded her, nothing to see, nothing to hear, until there was light below her, finally. Tightening her hands on the rope, she slowed, feeling it burn against the leather of her gauntlet. After landing, hard, someone immediately pulled her out of the way. She looked up and saw Sathar standing over her. The group was all there, waiting for her. They nodded at her, and she nodded back, trying to forget the sensation of falling as they followed the flow of the other Hatharen away from the light of the lanterns sitting on the ground.

    On the north side of the mountains lay a world untouched by human hands.

    It didn¡¯t look that different from the south side. Small clumps of grass and other wild plants, rocks, thin trees. Not quite a barren wasteland but far from an untamed expanse of wilderness. Ferene stared to the north and just saw more land. The mountain barrier did not hide wonders from human eyes, instead it existed as a break in the continuing flow of the land.

    Some hundred and more Hatharen moved to the west, Ferene among them. Was this an army? Was this war? Never before had Ferene seen so many people together. The sight of all of them, armed and armored, walking in silence, filled her with an unknown emotion. In some ways, these were her people. In other ways, they were unknown to her, strangers she never met until a few days ago. She walked with them in front of her, beside her, behind her. Rilya touched her shoulder and Ferene turned to face her. Instead of a smile, the woman¡¯s lips were pressed tightly together, her eyes looking to Ferene for¡­support? Reassurance? Ferene smiled back at her.

    Two hours later, they arrived in a forested area, thin trees with frail-looking branches sprouting up from the ground. Someone yelled from the front of the line, and they all stopped, breaking into groups of six and spreading out. Ferene stepped towards Telhrain, the Hatharen wearing his metal-pierced cloak. ¡°What is the plan here?¡±

    ¡°They should be coming along this path. Primary squads will prepare to stop them by disrupting their advance. Support groups will be in place to ambush them. Chaser groups - that¡¯s us - will form a perimeter to catch any that get away.¡±

    Nodding, Ferene fell in line with them as the squad moved into position. Behind her, she saw groups of more heavily armored Hatharen setting up nets. The main force was laying a trap. She would not be a part of that. Her group walked away from it, leaving the forest and moving further from the mountains, climbing up a hill that overlooked the forest. Sathar, Rilya, and Filraehen sat down, setting their weapons on the ground beside them. Alri stretched her legs, her eyes scanning the forest. Ilraghen took four arrows from his quiver and stabbed them into the dirt, kneeling behind the line he made. Telhrian stood silently, eyes closed, just breathing.

    Ferene decided to go through her warmup routine.

    Nobody taught her how to hold a sword, how to stand, how to move. She figured it out mostly through mimicry and trial. Her stance echoed what she remembered of the man she killed to get her weapon. Her swings were motions that felt right, motions that worked in the past. Sometimes she had chances to watch others fight with greatswords, and she did her best to remember how they moved, how they parried, how they attacked. Slowly, it all came together. She did not pay money for a teacher. She paid blood for every lesson, every mistake. Some fights, early on, she resorted to simply punching and kicking her opponents until they yielded. She barely survived against the Direag, and might have died if not for the arrival of the people chasing it, her new friends. Today, her opponents were more inhuman creatures, monsters she knew nothing about. More Direags? Something else? She lacked information, she lacked experience, but she had to believe that she could survive this just as she survived everything else.

    ¡°They¡¯re here.¡± Sathar¡¯s voice penetrated her trance. She stopped mid-motion, turning to look down towards the forest, then to the west. A swarm of¡­something approached. Distant shapes. Ilraghen stood up, drawing a single arrow from his quiver, leaving the four in the ground in front of him. The three in armor stayed on the ground, watching. Alri hopped from one foot to the other, her bow in one hand. Telhrian stayed still, eyes still closed. Ferene took a few steps forward, watching.

    Monsters, beasts, creatures from beyond the human lands. Things the adults used to joke about. They came in different sizes, different shapes, far more diverse than humans or Hatharen. There were several Direag in the swarm, standing tall above the rest. A great number of them were less than half the height of those. Still more of other heights. Some of them looked like they had more than two legs, though Ferene could not make out the details from this distance. In the deep pit of her stomach she started to feel ill, so she looked away.

    Sathar rose to his feet, putting a hand on her shoulder. ¡°We wait. We are not soldiers, we are hunters. You can run and chase things? We are here to run and chase, but do not get too far ahead.¡±

    Nodding, she turned back to look at the forest below. The swarm of monsters started to move between bare trees, with no leaves to block Ferene¡¯s view. Even with the sickness she felt tense, waiting. There was an ambush here, happening at any moment. More and more of the creatures entered the woods, far more of them than the Hatharen, who were still hidden. The first monster into the woods approached the other side, unharmed. Then a second, a third, and a whole wave of them. Ferene frowned.

    It started when about a quarter of them were out. The part of the swarm outside the forest kept going, but no more followed. Ferene did not know where the Hatharen hid, but they were suddenly there, in the middle of the monsters, fighting. The group outside turned, moving back, before they started falling. Archers struck, picking them off with no chance of hitting their own. Ferene stood and watched as bodies fell. She wanted to be there, but the thought of charging into that scared her. This was not what she was used to. She stared, unable to look away, watching the Hatharen form circles, backs towards each other, as they fought, opening up holes in the swarm. Groups of six. She saw them surround the large shape of a Direag, taking the beast down. In other places, those small groups were overrun. Lives were being lost for this. The Hatharen down there dying could be those she sparred with yesterday or the day before.

    Despite the losses, despite being outnumbered, the Hatharen were winning. The swarm broke, splitting off in different directions. The majority of them turned around and ran back, but others ran off to the sides, none of them pushing forward to the killing field on the other side of the woods.

    One of these groups ran towards the hill Ferene stood on.

    ¡°Telhrian.¡± Sathar spoke, pulling his friend out of the odd trance. Telhrian said something to Ilraghen, then pulled a small cloth bag out from under his cloak. The rest of them looked at it and nodded. ¡°If any are left alive after we strike, you get to chase them.¡± Sathar told her, as he and Rilya stood up, weapons in hand, and charged down the slope to meet their enemy. Ferene looked at Telhrian, who nodded at her, and she ran after them.

    The urge to vomit got stronger as she approached the beasts. Nothing she could do about that now. She made sure not to overtake the other two. Trust them to be the front line. Trust them to work together. She did not need to disrupt them. More than a dozen creatures ran towards the three of them. Several at the front looked like they would come up to her chest, but they were broad-shouldered and carried long spears. Stocky, muscled beings with furred faces. The five taller ones stood as tall as the Hatharen, slender but armored, holding swords and axes and shields. Helmets topped their pale heads. In the back, towering above all of the others, was the unmistakable form of a Direag.

    Right before Rilya and Sathar crashed into the group, something small flew over their heads, hitting one of the taller creatures and exploding on impact.

    Ferene slid to a stop as flames engulfed the monster, sparks falling to the ground. The group dissolved into chaos. They ran away from the burning creature, each going a different direction, the ones still moving forward quickly cut down by Sathar and Rilya as Ferene watched in horror. She could smell burning flesh and fur, as one of the smaller creatures caught on fire as well. An inhuman screech came from its mouth as it rolled around in the grass, but the flames seemed to cling to it. One of the remaining tall beasts turned to run, but an arrow took it in the back of the neck. When it didn¡¯t immediately drop, a second one sprouted right beside the first.

    The Direag bellowed and swung its giant club at Sathar. He jumped back just in time, then moved to the right as Rilya moved to the left. The beast swung again, and missed again, Sathar once more barely getting out of the way. Ferene saw the club had swords embedded in it, a spiked bat scaled upwards ten times. This one was not wounded like the one she fought. She raised her sword and took a step forward, getting ready to join the fight, when Alri grabbed her on her way down the slope. She pointed at two of the tall creatures that were running away, pushing Ferene towards them.

    So Ferene ran. Each step felt heavier than normal, every impact of her foot against the ground threatening to make her vomit. But she ran. An arrow flew past her, lodging in the shoulder of one of the two beasts. Then she was upon them. She cut down the injured one from behind, turning as she slid to a stop, blocking off the other¡¯s path. It glared at her with deep-set eyes from beneath its helmet. Up close, she could make out pale white skin stretched tightly over a wide, flat nose with overly large nostrils. Small, pointed teeth clustered together in its jaw as it sneered. She stared back, taking a deep breath. The creature raised its axe and fell over, an arrow in the back of its spine.

    Tension left Ferene. She fell to her knees and vomited once, then again. After taking a moment to catch her breath, she stood up, wiping her mouth, and looked at the rest of her squad. The Direag was collapsed, four Hatharen standing around it. The hillside was littered with the bodies of the other monsters, some of them with arrows in them, others cut down by swords. Slowly, Ferene walked back to the group as they gathered around the giant corpse.

    A face filled with arrows, one even through the low-placed eye socket, numerous cuts along its arms, and a burn mark on its chest told a story of how they killed the beast. Telhrian turned to look at Ferene, concern on his face. ¡°You don¡¯t look well. Were you hurt?¡±

    She opened her mouth to respond, then immediately vomited all over the dead creature. All six of them stared at her, then started laughing. She just glared at them and turned to walk away. Away from the bodies, away from the forest, away from whatever those things did to her.

 Chapter 7: Choices - 1

    ¡°Here she is.¡± Hearing Telhrian¡¯s voice, Ferene looked behind her. He stood on the hill, another Hatharen behind him. The newcomer was covered in dirt and dried blood, her long white hair stained and matted with clumps of both. ¡°This is Ahleyhen, from Treventhal.¡± Ferene stared at the two of them, too exhausted to talk.

    ¡°Telhrian here asked me if we had any wanderers to the south. Specifically males. We do have one. Name of Salveren. Left some sixty years ago, doing research. I don¡¯t know the details. We aren¡¯t sure where he is now, but in the human city Ettsgras you might find something.¡±

    Ettsgras was the capital of a large kingdom to the southwest of the independent lands. Far from Ferene¡¯s path, people would occasionally mention the far-off place. Ettsgras going to war, Ettsgras looking for soldiers. Both a place of wonder and prosperity as well as the head of a terrible war machine. With how far west she was now, she should be closer to it than she ever was before.

    A third Hatharen quickly walked up the hill, pushing past Ahleyhen and staring closely at Ferene. Dark green eyes looked directly into hers, and Ferene recoiled. The yellow-haired woman laughed, turned, and walked away. Ahleyhen turned and ran after her, leaving Ferene alone with Telhrian.

    ¡°The sickness is worse with more of them?¡± He asked. She nodded. ¡°There is a lot we don¡¯t know about your kind. Not enough of you to really know what to expect. Especially ones that stay and try to fight. Today¡­today was bad.¡± He frowns, and lets out a sigh, sitting down on the hill. Ferene sat down beside him, staying silent. ¡°Twenty eight squads left. A hundred and sixty eight, plus you, set out. We lost thirty nine. For Treventhal, I don¡¯t know how many they lost. Might be a similar number. Might be more.¡± He fell silent.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t worth it.¡± Ferene said, thinking of Tahrean.

    ¡°Do you really think so?¡± He asked, looking at her. She looked back, not sure how to respond. ¡°If we ignored them, they would have found a way to cross the mountains, and raid the human lands. Think about what you experienced today, but much, much worse. Could any of the humans fight in that condition?¡± Ferene shook her head. ¡°We have arrangements to get supplies from them. Our stronghold can¡¯t exist on its own. It¡¯s a secret that most humans don¡¯t know about. All of it is. But certain families pass the secret down and uphold an ancient deal. Thirty nine of us died today not just to protect the humans, but to protect ourselves. Without the humans we cannot stay hidden in our strongholds, and if we do not hide we will have to fight eventually, and if we fight while surrounded we would have lost far more than we did today.¡±

    Ferene considered this, then looked at the forest. Blood and bodies. A naturally sickening sight now, as opposed to the unnatural sickness the monsters made her feel when they lived.

    ¡°The seven of us all lived today. We have another chance to celebrate, when we get back. You don¡¯t have to stay with us, though. You can go back, you can go find Salveren, if he is your father. Find the answers that you want, that you need.¡±

    He stood up and left her on the hillside. Ferene remained sitting, thinking. Would she be abandoning them, or were they better off without her? In this kind of battlefield, was a vomiting fighter that couldn¡¯t speak the language valuable, or a hindrance?

    Silence dominated the return trip, just as it the on the way out. This silence did not hold tension, but sadness. If every squad of six was a family, there were broken families here. There were lifelong - for Hatharen, eternal - partners separated from each other, one dead and the other left alive. Yet they did not weep. Every one of them slowly walked home in silence. For grief, they had all the time in the world.

    Two lifts were in operation in the chasm, but also a number of ropes hung down between the two cliff walls. Single individuals were hauled upwards holding on to these. Ferene waited at the back with her group, surrounded by other groups of six, all silently watching as groups of twos, threes, fours, and fives walked forward and were taken upwards to their home. She felt the saddest for the few that stood alone.

    One of them stepped forward, reaching towards a rope, and stopped. All motion around them came to a halt. Everyone waited. Slowly, the warrior turned and walked past the waiting groups, back to the lands beyond. Heads bowed as they passed, and Ferene followed suit. When the footsteps faded, action resumed. More weary Hatharen were lifted into the darkness above.

    ¡°If someone chooses not to return, no questions are asked. We understand we will never see them again. What they do is up to them. Some go to hunt the beasts, killing as many as they can. Others simply wander until the beasts find them. Some take their own lives.¡± Sathar whispered as they waited. Ferene nodded. She understood the reaction, if not the pain.

    Eventually Ferene herself was lifted up. Holding onto the rope, she rose upwards, watching the darkness above until the caves appeared and a Hatharen face looked over the edge, their hands pulling on the rope. She smiled, but then looked away from her as they pulled her up and over the edge onto the platform they descended from that morning. She waited there for the others, and joined them as they left the platform.

    Stepping from the wooden structure onto the floor of the cave, Ferene found an odd sight waiting for her. A number of Hatharen knelt on the ground, their heads bowed. Tahrean walked between them, wearing a white robe and holding a wooden staff, touching each one on the head and whispering a few words to them. Some stood up to give the elder an embrace before walking off, while others stayed kneeling. Ferene watched the odd process for a moment, before Rilya pulled her arm, leading her away.

    ¡°What was that?¡± She asked as they caught up with the rest of the group.

    Sathar shrugged. ¡°Wisdom. Words of knowledge offered to those that lost members of their families. A small comfort for the ones that want it.¡±

    ¡°The elder knows more about loss than any of us. They can heal the wounds of the heart and the mind. Tahrean will always be there for you in your time of need, even if they do not involve themselves in the fighting. This is what they offer, to show they have not abandoned the people entirely.¡± Telhrian added as they walked. Ferene looked over her shoulder, watching until she could not see the gathering.

    Arriving at their circle, the seven of them split off, entering their own dwellings. Ferene and Rilya removed their armor and stared at each other awkwardly. Rilya pulled her into the bed, wrapping her arms around Ferene and burying her face against her neck as they lay side by side. Returning the embrace, Ferene felt her friend shaking, silently sobbing into her. Their family all lived, but how many friends did she lose today? People that should have been with her forever, that she would now never see again? Squeezing her tightly, Ferene stroked Rilya¡¯s hair. She had interacted with the Hatharen of the stronghold for only a number of days, and her new family barely more than twice that. This wasn¡¯t her world. One day, she would die, even if she lived a peaceful life. Ferene was not eternal. Did she really belong here? Telhrian¡¯s words from earlier lingered in her mind. He already knew the conclusions she was only now coming to. Did the rest of them know that as well? Did Rilya? Ferene clenched her jaw, holding Rilya tighter.

    Breakfast the next morning consisted of bread from the day before. They ate it plain, cold. None of them talked. Feeling the awkwardness, Ferene ate fast and ran off, abandoning them. There was a guilt to it, but staying felt worse. She felt like an invader, so she left, and went to the place for exiles.

    Tahrean sat in a wooden chair at the edge of the cave, staring downwards into the abyss of the chasm, still wearing the white robe from last night. They looked up at Ferene as she approached and smiled wearily at her. ¡°It is good to see you made it back alive.¡±

    ¡°We sat and watched as others died.¡±

    Their eyes bored into hers. ¡°Does that upset you? Would you rather have been in the fighting, amidst the bloodshed of the battlefield?¡±

    ¡°If it could save-¡°

    ¡°And when the enemy breaks and runs, scattering in all directions, what if one passed through the mountains because there were none to stop them? If you return to the human lands and find a path of death and destruction that they could not stop because even looking at such a creature horrifies them into paralysis?¡± Tahrean stood, coming to their full height. ¡°Would you trade a handful of Hatharen lives for hundreds of human ones? Thousands of human ones? What is the value of an eternal life? How many humans need to be saved to justify to you the death of one Hatharen?¡± They poked her in the chest. ¡°How many human lives would need to be saved to justify your own death? Half as many? Less or more? Who are you to decide what they choose to sacrifice themselves for?¡±

    Ferene stepped back, surprised at the outburst. ¡°Before, you-¡°

    ¡°Talked like I did not approve of their war? Their deaths?¡± She found herself interrupted again. ¡°I don¡¯t, but I do not try to stop them, I do not try to tell them what they should or should not do. I will not stop them from throwing their lives away in senseless violence if they believe it is worth it. Even if most of them never met or saw a human, and have no knowledge of what they fight and die for. Even if they do it out of an obligation to tradition, an obligation to avenge their mothers and fathers and family members that died in the same war for the same reasons with the same ignorance. I will not break their dream. I will not tell them that I am right and they are wrong, because everyone can make that choice for themselves. So I stay out of their way. I lie to them when they come back broken, I tell them they did the right thing even if I do not believe it. Too many lives have been devoted to this for me to tell them it is all for nothing. They must come to that conclusion on their own, because they get to decide the value of their lives. Just as you decided the value of yours.¡± Letting out a long breath, Tahrean sat back down, looking even more exhausted than before. ¡°My apologies.¡± They said, after taking a long breath. ¡°Times like these are difficult for me. Old age does not make tempers vanish.¡±

    Ferene could only nod, her lips in a thin line. Did Tahrean know about her past, or were they only guessing? ¡°I don¡¯t think I can stay here.¡±

    ¡°So you figured it out, did you?¡±

    ¡°When I got back, one of them wouldn¡¯t look at me. I did not know his name, but he pulled me up here and did not meet my eyes.¡±

    ¡°Like me, you are a waste of their resources. You cannot fight as they do, can you?¡± Ferene shook her head and Tahrean nodded, turning to look downwards again. ¡°And you will never have a child. You will not contribute more bodies to the war effort.¡±

    ¡°Why does it matter?¡± She asked. She never once thought about having children, the news that she couldn¡¯t didn¡¯t matter to her, but it mattered a lot here.

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    ¡°There was a time when the women were not allowed to fight. Too valuable to put at risk, supposedly. That was a very long time ago, when we thought the war would be easy. It did not last long, only a few thousand years later we realized if the women did not fight, we would be completely overrun. So they joined the fight, and things were better, until the deaths started adding up. We are not meant for war, but that is all we do. More will realize that you are a hindrance, and unlike me you do not have their respect. I am an ancient creature, a treasure that they must protect, a relic of the past containing endless knowledge. You are a small dog. Cute, but offering little practical value. A luxury that they eventually will be unable to afford. Can you please your master enough to convince her to keep you when everyone else wants you gone?¡±

    Ferene grabbed Tahrean, hauling them to their feet. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you call me, but if you say something like that about any member of my family again, I will throw you off this cliff.¡±

    Tahrean laughed. A high-pitched, ringing sound. There was both beauty and mockery in that sound. Something happened, and Ferene found herself on the ground, staring at Tahrean¡¯s bare feet visible below the hem of their robe. Her back hurt. Slowly, she rose to her feet, looking up at her attacker.

    ¡°I must apologize for angering you, but I will not permit you to threaten me. Rilya is a good child. She will defend you. The other five might as well, for a time, but consider their position if the rest of the stronghold is against you. You will force them to choose between you and their people. Do you want to do that?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Ferene answered. ¡°I will leave before that happens.¡±

    ¡°Good. In the meantime, how about you make the most of your time here?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Education.¡±

    Before Ferene could return to her family-squad, Sathar and Filraehen found her.

    ¡°You get to help her carry things today.¡± Sathar told Ferene. ¡°Because you ran off earlier.¡± Ferene simply nodded, and followed Filraehen across a bridge to the other cliffs, then into a small lift-basket that took them higher up, until they were just below the plateau. Rather than a slope like the cliff face behind them, this one rolled back in tiered steps, each one lined with wooden planting boxes. The two women stepped out onto the lowest tier, where Filraehen picked up an empty woven sack and handed it to Ferene. Taking it, Ferene followed her along the rows of planters, taking various tubers that were handed back to her and tossing them into the bag.

    The process was long and slow. Filraehen would stare at each plant before finally reached out to touch one, and often changed her mind, sometimes even after digging the plant up. In these cases she would re-bury it and move on to the next one, repeating the process. Slowly, Ferene started filling the sack, and spent her time paying closer attention to what Filraehen was doing, which plants she rejected and which ones she handed to Ferene. Not having seen gardening like this up close before, Ferene wondered how similar it was to what the humans did.

    Partway through the third tier, Filraehen stopped, staggering slightly and putting a hand on her head. She stayed still, and Ferene began to grow concerned, suddenly realizing that she had no way of asking what was going on. Before she could start to think of a plan, Filraehen turned to her, her eyes wide, and grabbed her by the shoulders. The larger woman was breathing fast, looking down into Ferene¡¯s eyes, but her mouth broke into a wide smile. She clapped Ferene twice on the shoulders and leaped down to the first tier, grabbed the rope, and slid downwards without even using the basket. Bewildered, Ferene stared after her, absently holding the sack of tubers, before following her down.

    After taking her time with the descent, Ferene arrived at their gathering circle to see everyone but Sathar and Filraehen present, though Telhrian and Alri were sitting down looking towards the dwelling the missing two shared. Ilraghen paced back and forth, fidgeting, as Rilya watched him. The first two were smiling and talking to each other, while the other two both wore deep frowns.

    Setting the sack on the ground, Ferene drew Telhrian¡¯s attention. ¡°There you are.¡± He observed, giving no other explanation.

    ¡°Filraehen ran off without me.¡±

    ¡°She had more important things to do.¡± He told her, turning back to stare at the small building.

    Ferene frowned, looking over at Ilraghen and Rilya. ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°Having children.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Ferene asked the question immediately. Telhrian stared at her in confusion. She looked away.

    ¡°It is not entirely uncommon for this to happen after loss. Something about it all tends to¡­¡± He trailed off, thinking. ¡°It activates. The, um¡­¡± He said a long string of words in Hatharen, and Alri laughed. Telhrian blushed. ¡°Something makes them want to have children.¡± He finished, putting his hands on his face. ¡°I¡¯m not the one who should be explaining this. The two of them will be busy for the rest of the day.¡±

    ¡°The whole day?¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s, uh¡­¡± He said something else to Alri, and she patted him on the shoulder, smiling at him as she responded. He took a deep breath, his face red. ¡°Apparently the desire is much more intense. Or so those that have experienced it have said. This is a first for all of us here. But that is why we should be happy about it.¡±

    Ferene looked over to Ilraghen. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t he be with them?¡± She asked. The three were almost always together at night.

    ¡°He¡­he loves both of them a lot. But he is not her partner. Sathar is. Tradition demands he leave them alone. As much as he wishes otherwise.¡±

    ¡°He can just go in.¡± Ferene gestured towards the open entrance. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t stop him, would you?¡±

    Telhrian shook his head. ¡°He is very torn between following traditions and his own desire to be with them.¡±

    As they spoke, Ilraghen paced back and forth, stopping and turning around every few steps, his hands sometimes shoved into the pockets of his trousers, other times clasped behind his back, and a few times pulling at his hair. Rilya just stared at him and frowned.

    Thinking it over, Ferene took a deep breath, walked over to Ilraghen, and interrupted his pacing. At one point, he wanted her dead, but now he was part of her family. They fought together and returned alive. They knew what the other was capable of. He stared at her, his mouth twitching, his hands clenched into fists. She pointedly looked at his hands, making sure he noticed her gaze. Then she looked him in the eye, slowly raised her own fist, and lightly punched him in the shoulder. He opened his mouth in shock, then closed it, looking at her in confusion. So she punched him again, harder this time. Then a third time, deliberately leaving herself open. After that, he punched her back. He punched her hard, the blow full of anger and frustration. Suddenly he was hitting her over and over again, yelling. Ferene did not block, but instead turned with each hit, tensing her body just before the impact while also moving away from it. It didn¡¯t take long for him to knock her down, slamming her onto the wooden flooring of the circle. Rilya was on her feet, but Ferene waved a hand. Ilraghen punched her in the face, and Ferene felt her nose break. She retaliated, and was covered in blood from his lip. The hit made him pause, but only for a moment, before he punched again, but this time missed Ferene completely, his fist impacting just beside her face and staying there. He started crying. As Ferene wrapped her arms around him, he collapsed against her, his body going limp as he sobbed loudly.

    Eventually he calmed down and stood up, allowing Ferene to push herself to her feet. Rilya smiled at her, and she smiled back, then turned to Telhrian, who just stared at her. ¡°Your traditions are stupid.¡± She told him, turning away before she could see his reaction.

    She was starting to understand why Linara warned her not to come here. Why Tahrean stayed away from all of them. There was something very, very wrong with the Hatharen.

    Ferene spent the rest of the day wandering, walking back and forth across the rope bridges, avoiding anyone that looked at her. The more she thought about it, the more her anger grew, so she tried not to think about it. Eventually, she ended up in the cave with the training area, dirt spread on the floor. A single Hatharen stood there, holding a wooden sword in both hands, shaking as she went through a series of motions. Ferene stopped, watching her. Most of her red hair was tied into a low-set ponytail, but a lot of it hung free, swirling around her as she moved. Her movements were quick and sporadic, jerking herself from one swing to the next, pausing between each motion for awkward, irregular intervals. Frowning, Ferene walked over to the weapon shed and picked out a mock sword for herself, stepping into the ring in front of the girl.

    The two made eye contact, and the Hatharen came to a stop, standing unsteadily and panting heavily. Getting a better look at her, Ferene judged her to be a bit shorter than the average height for Hatharen, her neck even with Ferene¡¯s eye level. The Hatharen¡¯s own eyes were wide and her pupils heavily dilated. Slowly, Ferene raised her own weapon. The girl leaped into action, attacking her wildly, furiously, screaming. Ferene blocked, stepping back under the ferocity of the onslaught. Since coming here, she had not felt something like this, in all of her sparring matches. Her opponent was trying, desperately, to kill her, despite the wooden weapon. Ferene blocked again and again, slowly being forced back. Even her duel with Ilraghen did not compare to this.

    If she kept fighting like this, Ferene would find herself backed into the wall. The next attack, she redirected to her side, letting her take a step in the other direction. Slowly, she turned the two of them like this. Despite all the effort this Hatharen put in, Ferene did not feel overly pressed. Her previous opponents had properly beaten her, but the overly emotional girl flailed more wildly, making every attack less effective. With more space behind her, Ferene took a step back, disarming the girl on her next attack by deflecting her weapon into the ground. Stumbling forward, her opponent fell to the ground and burst into tears, sobbing as she pounded her closed fist against the dirt floor.

    Swallowing, Ferene looked around, finding no help. Stepping forward, she put her hand on the girl¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Tahrean.¡± She said, pushing her gently.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me to go to Tahrean.¡± The ferocity of the scream caused Ferene to flinch back. ¡°Even you, even you can beat me, how can someone like that help? How can anyone help me?¡±

    Ferene bit her lip. ¡°I¡¯m not good at talking.¡±

    She let out a sound halfway between a cry and laugh as she stood up, turning to look down at Ferene. ¡°And I¡¯m not good at fighting. And they all died because of it. Yet I lived. Why is that? Why is it that I fail and everyone else pays the price, but I¡¯m still here? Does Tahrean have an answer for that? Maybe if Tahrean was there, instead of hiding, maybe more of us would have come back!¡± She reached out, shoving Ferene backwards. ¡°What do you know? Why were you even there? To watch? To look on as we all died? You and those looking after you, watching from the sides, waiting around instead of helping, picking off stragglers? For what? To defend the humans? Your humans?¡±

    ¡°And what were you doing on that battlefield, if not protecting humans, Sekhrian?¡± Tahrean¡¯s voice cut across the cave from the cliff face. Ferene turned to look, and saw them standing there, another Hatharen trailing behind as they walked towards Ferene. ¡°I stay out of things because I do not believe in trading our lives for the safety of humans. Do not blame this one for making the exact same choice that you made in going down there to begin with.¡±

    The red-haired Hatharen spun towards Tahrean. ¡°You would have me abandon them, then? Leave them to fight and die alone?¡±

    ¡°I would have you properly understand what they died for, before you judge the actions of others, child. Your actions here do not show any respect for your family. Is this truly how you wish to proceed?¡±

    She stood, tense and silent, glaring at Tahrean, before finally letting out her breath, all the tension leaving her body with it. ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡± Turning to Ferene, she did her best at a smile. It did not reach her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡­thank you for sparring with me.¡± She bowed, then stepped towards Tahrean, talking quietly. Ferene could overhear the conversation, but it was not in her language. At the end of it, she bowed to Tahrean as well.

    Patting the girl on the back, Tahrean watched as she walked across a bridge to the other side of the stronghold, then turned to Ferene. ¡°She is very young. Almost as young as you. She thought she could handle herself, but she could not. Luckily, you were there, and so she lives to see another day. Do you wish to live, Ferene?¡±

    She paused. Did she want to live? Not too long ago, the answer would have been no. Deep inside her, she still felt that hatred of what she was, what she had done. But now she thought of Rilya, of Linara, of the family on the farm. ¡°Yes.¡± She whispered, then repeated it, louder. ¡°Yes, I want to live.¡± She thought of the name she had, for the person that might be her father. Of the rest of her new family. Humans preyed on the weak, but not all of them did that. The Hatharen were a twisted, broken people, but not all of them wanted to live that way. Some smiled and laughed and loved and wanted to live for something more than just fighting and breeding. Ferene did not have to be chained by her past any more than the humans were chained by their circumstances or the Hatharen were chained by their traditions.

    Ferene wanted to live.

 Chapter 7: Choices - 2

    The Hatharen behind Tahrean barked out a laugh, causing Ferene to look at him more closely. Shorter than any other Hatharen she had seen, barely taller than Linara, the man was nonetheless wide-shouldered and built to the point where he looked to have more mass than the members of his people. He was the first Hatharen she had ever thought of as stocky.

    ¡°Sword and armor. Come back here.¡± When he spoke, his words were soft, but his voice deep. He crossed his arms and frowned at Ferene. She looked to Tahrean, who raised an eyebrow and gave her a half-grin. Nodding to the shorter one, Ferene ran off.

    At her squad¡¯s residence, Ilraghen now sat shoulder to shoulder with Rilya, the two of them whispering to each other, while Telhrian and Alri sat across from them. All four turned to look at Ferene when she arrived. Giving a small wave towards Rilya, she entered their shared dwelling, grabbing her gear. When she came out, her friend was standing, waiting for her.

    ¡°Ferene loves Rilya.¡± Raising a gauntleted hand to Rilya¡¯s face, Ferene traced the line of her jaw, smiling. ¡°Love.¡± Rilya¡¯s concerned frown slowly vanished as she smiled back, nodding.

    ¡°Rilya loves Ferene.¡±

    Ferene nodded to her, then turned to Telhrian. She tried to think of something to say to him, but couldn¡¯t. She found herself unable to put her anger at him into words. The two of them looked at each other for a moment, and then Ferene left.

    Tahrean was not at the training area when she returned, but she found the other Hatharen standing towards the back wall. He waved her over, and she trotted up to him.

    ¡°Sword up.¡± Ferene slid into her fighting stance, and he frowned her at her. ¡°Hold.¡± As she stayed still, he slowly walked around her. ¡°Wrong.¡± Stepping up to her, he pushed her hands slightly, making a small adjustment to the angle she held her blade, tapped her elbows to have her pull her arms inwards ever so slightly. With his foot he pushed at her knees and feet, adjusting her stance, forcing repeated tiny adjustments as she overcompensated trying to do what he wanted. When he finally stepped back and nodded, she wasn¡¯t sure how different it was from where she started. It didn¡¯t feel any different.

    ¡°Sword down.¡± Ferene stood up straight, relaxing, only for a moment before he made another demand. ¡°Sword up! Wrong!¡± He immediately stepped forward again, making the same adjustments as before.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel different.¡± Ferene said when he finished again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t talk. Focus. Sword down.¡± This time he waited, watching her expression for a moment before making her assume the stance again. ¡°Sword up!¡±

    This time, she tried to remember the adjustments, taking a little longer to fall into her stance.

    ¡°Better, but wrong.¡± He shoved her into the form he wanted again. ¡°Hold. Stay.¡± He walked behind her, out of her sight. She heard his footsteps get further and further away from her. It was embarrassing, but she did as she was told, standing still for several minutes before he came back. ¡°Good.¡± Stepping in front of her again, he nodded at her. In one hand he held a muffin, and in the other a metal short sword. The blade caught Ferene¡¯s eye - rather than steel, the blade was made out of something darker, almost black. ¡°Fight.¡± For a moment, Ferene hesitated. He wore no armor, and still held the muffin in one hand. ¡°Fight!¡± He said, louder, and haphazardly, lazily swung his sword into hers.

    Ferene swatted the blow away, then moved to attack, poking at him experimentally. He easily parried the attack while taking a bite out of the muffin, crumbs falling to the ground.

    Annoyed, Ferene attacked again, swinging faster, only to have it blocked just as easily. The worry of attacking an unarmored opponent quickly vanished, and she threw herself into her offense, attacking repeatedly, from multiple angles, weaving in feints before committing fully to a swing, attempting to overpower him. Her sword slid along the shorter length of his blade as he lazily redirected all of her strength to the side, taking another bite of his snack as he did so.

    Ferene got angry. She knew she couldn¡¯t beat Linara, and never got the chance to even try. The other Hatharen here had tested her, had beaten her down, establishing they were better, but pushing her to her limits at the same time. This one fought to humiliate her, he did not push her, but taunted her. She had to push herself. She fell back into her stance, took a deep breath, and adjusted. He raised one eyebrow at her, but gave no hint if she was holding it properly or not, aside from shoving the rest of the bread into his mouth. Once he started chewing, Ferene struck, a single, quick blow, focusing on speed rather than power.

    ¡°Wrong.¡± Ferene heard his voice, vaguely, distantly. Most of her focus was on her now-empty hands. She did not see the moment where he disarmed her. It was just like when Tahrean put her on the floor earlier. ¡°Scone?¡± He pushed a pastry into her hands. Blinking, she took it from his hands. It crumbled as she bit into it. He laughed at her as she tried to catch the crumbs.

    After Ferene managed to get most of the bread into her mouth, he picked up her sword and examined it more closely. ¡°Hm.¡± He made an odd noise as he held the weapon up in front of his face with only one hand, looking at the crossguard and frowning. ¡°Resh.¡±

    ¡°Resh?¡± Ferene asked, looking at him. She wanted her sword back. Watching him hold it made her feel odd.

    ¡°Knights of Resh.¡± He said, and took a deep breath. ¡°Murderous lunatics. Big group, thousand years ago. Maybe less. Humans, all dead now.¡±

    She held out her hand, and he handed the sword back to her. The weight of it being in her hands again felt good. She tightened her grip on it. Even though she had left it in the hut she shared with Rilya for most of the last few days, she suddenly found herself not wanting to be separated from it. Because he disarmed her so easily, or because of something else, she did not know. ¡°I was told¡­¡± She tried to remember what the man she killed had said, before he gave it to her. ¡°It is cursed.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Cursed sword!¡± He laughed. ¡°Knights of Resh were cursed, but only them, and only by their own stupidity. Swords are just swords.¡±

    ¡°What did they do? What happened to them?¡±

    ¡°Warriors of justice, maybe. Random killers, maybe. Knight of Resh shows up in village, kills man. Says man was criminal. Maybe he stole, maybe he killed, maybe he raped. Maybe he didn¡¯t. You don¡¯t know, man is dead. Knight leaves.¡± He shrugged, then smiled widely. ¡°Knight of Resh shows up at castle. Says to bring out lord. If lord comes out, lord dies. If lord hides, everyone hiding him dies, or the knight dies. If knight dies, more knights show up. So if knight asks for lord, servants give lord to knight. Knight kills lord, says he stole and cheated other lords, says he beat and killed and raped servants. Did Lord do that? You don¡¯t know. Lord is dead. Knight leaves.¡± He pulled another muffin out from his pocket and bit into it. ¡°First, people like Knights of Resh, but then fear. Then anger. Knight shows up, says to bring out a person. Nobody moves. Knight is not welcome. What does knight do? Kill everyone? Leave?¡± He laughed.

    Ferene turned the sword in her hands, looking at the crossguard. Nothing about it stood out to her, she had looked at it plenty of times over the years. Her teacher stepped forward, placing his finger on the hilt of the sword, tracing the line of the crossguard to the very end, where it curved away from the hilt and towards the blade, the metal rolling inwards in a way that let her catch opponent¡¯s blades. ¡°Only Resh swords have a quillon like this. Idiots make sword to do many things instead of just being sword.¡± He patted her on the shoulder and took a step back. ¡°Enough rest. Sword up!¡±

    Ferene fell into her stance again, then quickly adjusted herself. He grinned at her, nodding once before he attacked. She did not let her surprise slow her down - he hadn¡¯t attacked her before, only reacted to her swings. Ferene blocked the blow, following up with her own strike. The movements felt faster to her, more fluid. Deflecting her attack, he struck back. The two of them quickly fell into a rhythm of attack and counterattack, every attack he made from a different angle, at a different speed. Ferene felt the difference now, as she moved in and out of the stance. There was less tension, less focus on that and more on her opponent. He increased the speed of his strikes, but she did not strain herself to keep up, feeling almost as if she was in a trance, moving her much larger, heavier weapon in time with his smaller, lighter one, matching his speed despite her disadvantage. This was not a fight to the death, but one of instruction, somehow the clash of deadly steel turning into something peaceful, tranquil. Ferene smiled.

    ¡°Wrong.¡±

    She saw it this time, but was still unable to stop it. His next attack was so much faster than anything before, but with her focus changed she was just barely able to track the movement as he slid his sword under hers and flipped it upwards, wrenching it out of her hands and into the air.

    ¡°Do not smile. You smile, you die. You have bad smile, but good frown. Be angry. You are good at being angry.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Ferene nodded. Something about the Hatharen made her think differently, act differently. Ever since she met Linara. She wanted to live, but she had to live for the same purpose as before. Picking up her sword, she closed her eyes. She thought of the woman Tollond dropped down the well - what was her name? She couldn¡¯t remember. She thought of the soldiers that captured her, the noble man in the city that kept the children in his dungeon. She thought of Telhrian, coldly telling her about traditions. She thought about her mother, her father, and the men that raised her and forced her to fight. Anger filled her, and she fell into her stance again, facing the Hatharen. He looked at her and shook his head.

    ¡°Too much anger. Find balance. Fight like that and you die. Enough for today.¡± Sliding his sword into his belt, he walked away, leaving her standing there.

    She went through her own exercises, her other stances feeling wrong, compared to the one that had been corrected. With a sigh, she stopped, her entire body feeling heavy. The other Hatharen were resting, the training area staying empty. Turning, she started walking back to her group¡¯s home, and remembered that not everyone was resting. She wondered if Sathar and Filraehen had finished breeding yet. The thought felt wrong, but in feeling wrong it was right. There should be something wrong in making people do that. There was something wrong with Hatharen society. How could she have not seen it sooner?

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    When she arrived, she found five members of the group sitting around lazily. Rilya hopped to her feet, stepping over to Ferene. Looking her over, still wearing her armor, Rilya gave her an odd smile. Ferene nodded to her, looking over the rest of them. Alri and Telrhian still sat together, the latter frowning as the former patted him on the back. Filraehen sat next to Ilraghen, leaning against him with her eyes closed. He looked much more relaxed now.

    Ferene stepped towards Telhrian. ¡°Where¡¯s Sathar?¡± She didn¡¯t let her anger get into her voice, but also neglected to hide it from her face.

    ¡°Sleeping. Exhausted.¡± He said, not looking up at her. ¡°The males do not gain the same amount of energy as the females do.¡±

    Responding only with a grunt of acknowledgment, Ferene turned to Rilya, grabbing her hand and pulling her into their own dwelling. Pulling off her armor, she turned to her friend and kissed her, deeply, on the mouth. ¡°Love.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Rilya pushed her - gently - away. ¡°Love. No.¡± She gave a sad smile. Ferene frowned. Rilya frowned back, looking around the room. ¡°Rilya loves Ferene.¡±

    Nodding, Ferene fell onto the bed, letting out a sigh. Everything that happened made her angry. She wanted more distractions. She wanted Rilya. Maybe it was another stupid tradition, not allowing others to be intimate on their own. Rilya lay down next to her, wrapping her arms around Ferene. Burying her face in her friend¡¯s neck, Ferene quickly found herself falling asleep.

    The next morning was disappointingly normal. Filraehen made breakfast for all of them and they ate in silence as usual. Ilraghen sat between Sathar and Filraehen and showed none of his stress from the previous day. Maybe the three of them had worked it out. All of the odd behavior was just gone, forgotten about. Ferene made eye contact with Telhrian and he smiled at her. She glared at him, causing him to look away. He certainly remembered.

    As they went about the rest of their morning routine, she realized that she might be treating him unfairly. If she understood things properly, Hatharen, despite being able to live long, rarely got to do so, because of the war they fought. The six members of her family were certainly not a wise and ancient group. How stupid were humans? Her family here couldn¡¯t be more than five times as old as an old human, and even old humans were stupid. Maybe even stupider than younger humans, who were already stupid. She-

    She was thinking too much again. Ferene took a deep breath, in then out. Perhaps they weren¡¯t that stupid, if being around them made her think more. A troubling thought, more troubling was that she was still thinking.

    She left early, though still making sure she finished her chores, moving laundry and feeding the chickens. She wanted to find her teacher, who she did not know the name of and had not set up another meeting time for, so she instead went to Tahrean. For once, she was not the only the one visiting their cave. Two Hatharen were already there, deep in conversation with the elder. Ferene waited patiently for them to leave before approaching.

    ¡°There you are. How did your instruction yesterday go?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t get his name, or when we would meet again.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Relgren is like that. A different generation. You¡¯ll have to go hunt him down today, I¡¯m afraid. However, I have an idea of where he should be.¡± Tahrean pointed, across the chasm and upwards. Ferene tilted her head, following their arm. Far above the other caves, she saw an opening in the cliff she never noticed before in her wanderings. Too high up for any bridges to lead to it, with no ropes hanging down.

    ¡°How-¡°

    ¡°¡¯How do I get up there, dear Elder?¡¯¡± Tahrean laughed. ¡°I have completed half the challenge for you, you can¡¯t expect me to complete all of it, can you? Go, and find your way to that place. Ask whoever will understand you, search wherever you can reach, and seek a way to ascend!¡± Giving another laugh, they turned and walked back to their hut. Ferene frowned and did not follow.

    To start, Ferene crossed to the other cliff, putting her below her destination. Very briefly, she considered attempting to climb upwards, but decided against it, not having any experience in such things. Instead, she went to the back of each cave, looking for any tunnels that might lead upwards. Several of the caves she checked housed families rather than facilities, the groups of Hatharen usually ignoring her as she walked about. She searched from one end of the mountain to the other, and did not find any tunnels leading upwards.

    Mildly frustrated, she went to the edge of the cliff, and looked for a way up, even if it did not lead her to the separated cave. Finding a lift basket, she got in and started pulling herself upwards. After a bit more than a minute of hauling, she found herself even with the cave, though it was too far from her to possibly get to, so she kept going until she reached the top of the cliff. She was on the farm side, rather than the flat side, looking up at the tiered rows of potato and various other plants. However, her goal was below her. Looking over the edge, down towards the cave, she saw no ropes leading down to it, either. Ferene walked along the path at the edge of the chasm until she was directly above her goal, and still found no visible way down. She briefly considered trying to climb down to it, but dismissed the thought as just as risky as climbing to it from below.

    With no success on accessing it from the outside, she walked up the slope, further from the edge, to look for any tunnels that might lead down, though the sheer distance made it seem less likely. Her search, once again, did not yield results. However, she did find a coil of knotted rope. Collecting it, Ferene returned to the ledge, found a post attached to one of the boxes, and tested her weight against it. A minute of climbing later, and she arrived at her destination.

    Relgren and Sathar sat on a bench, both of them watching her - Sathar with curiosity, Relgren with amusement - as she dropped onto the lip of the cave. Multiple benches were arrayed near the opening, and a large stone building dominated the back of the cave. Not only was the building made of stone, it was made of a single stone, seemingly carved directly from the rock, and the style of the building was distinctly military. Narrow, tall windows, reminding her of arrow slits, dotted the face of the structure, and the base curved outward except for the heavy wooden door set into a hole. Looking at this structure, even harder to reach than the other caves and presenting defiant exterior, Ferene finally saw Yonthal as a stronghold.

    ¡°You¡¯re here, so we can start.¡± Sathar said, as the two of them stood up. It was interesting to see two extremes of Hatharen height together - Relgren only a bit taller than her, while Sathar absolutely towered over both of them.

    ¡°You were waiting for me?¡± Ferene asked as she followed them towards the building.

    ¡°Meeting.¡± Relgren didn¡¯t provide any further explanation, and Sathar also fell silent.

    Most of the building Ferene saw from the outside was taken up by an entry hall. Raised platforms lined the outer wall, allowing access to the arrow slits. The rest of the structure extended back further, into the mountain. More doors set into stone. Relgren lead them to one of these, and the three entered a large, round chamber with a single other door on the opposite side, lit by several torches. Six Hatharen sat in large chairs - the largest Ferene had seen since coming to the stronghold, far more elaborate than the simple wooden chairs in the caves below. They were arranged in a half-circle, all facing Ferene and her two companions as they walked in.

    Six Hatharen together only meant one thing; this was a family, just like hers. Except these six dressed differently. Not wearing the standard, simple clothes that everyone else wore when not fighting, the six of them dressed in equally simple robes of deep red. One of them, to her left, leaned forward and spoke, ¡°Ferene, you stand before the leadership council of Yonthal, the Northern Mountain Stronghold. After being informed of your circumstances, and your contributions, we took some time to discuss what should be done about you. We have invited two to speak for you; Relgren speaks in the place of Tahrean, who will not participate in this act of governance, but whose opinion we respect, and Sathar will speak as a member of your family, and also be a translator that you can trust. There will be a time for you to speak, but we will first talk to the other two. Do you understand?¡±

    Ferene listened to the Hatharen talk, looking first at her, then at the other five, taking them in. It was impossible to tell the ages of Hatharen by looking at them, but she could only assume this was a council of older Hatharen, though obviously not as old as Tahrean, since she had been told he was the oldest by far. ¡°No.¡± She said at the end. ¡°Why am I here?¡±

    The speaker paused, looking first at her, then at Sathar, and said something in their own language. Relgren barked out a laugh, causing some of the others to turn to him. Sathar responded, and then turned to Ferene. ¡°By our own laws they are required to accept you into the stronghold. They are not required to let you become part of our family. A seventh member is not normal. You can¡¯t join a different group because you don¡¯t fit the requirements.¡±

    ¡°Because I can¡¯t have children.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Sathar said. He did not look away from her, did not speak with any awkwardness or hesitation like Telhrian would have.

    ¡°I don¡¯t fit in because you all want children, and that¡¯s a problem.¡± After she spoke, the Hatharen that spoke to her initially was talking, likely relaying her words to the others. Ferene turned to them. ¡°I¡¯m going to save you the time. You are right. I don¡¯t belong here.¡±

    The translator paused, looking at her in shock, and then relayed the message, and the others all frowned at her. One of the others spoke up. ¡°Do you plan on leaving us, then?¡±

    Ferene looked at him, took a deep breath and nodded. ¡°Yes.¡± She could sense Sathar stiffen beside her, a rare reaction. ¡°I came here to learn, however, and I¡¯m not done with that yet.¡± She turned to Relgren, and saw he wore a large smile on his face. ¡°Will you keep training me? For how long?¡±

    ¡°You die before you learn everything.¡± His smile did not falter, though Ferene saw some of the others glance at him sharply. Her mortality was also something they did not usually deal with. ¡°You learn fast. Two weeks, I make you beat Sathar.¡±

    Ferene met Sathar¡¯s eye, and he simply shrugged. Turning back to the six seated, she spoke to them again. ¡°In two weeks, I will leave, and you do not have to worry about arguing on how to deal with me. Is that acceptable?¡±

    Even before the translator was done talking, the others started to speak. In orderly fashion, each one spoke in turn, the others nodding or shaking their heads, before the next in line spoke. Sathar did not bother to translate any of it, simply watching with a neutral expression. Relgren¡¯s smile seemed to grow only wider, his face almost glowing in the dim light from the torches in the windowless, featureless room.

    The discussion was rather short, as after all six had spoken, the first one talked again, and all of them nodded. The translator stood and addressed Ferene. ¡°We accept this. As long as you leave in two weeks, we will ask nothing more of you. Now go.¡±

    Without any ceremony, the three turned and walked out.

    ¡°Why?¡± Sathar asked once they were outside of the building.

    ¡°I do not fit in here. You treat me better than anyone has, but I am too different. The longer I stay the worse it will get.¡±

    ¡°Rilya¡­¡± He said, letting the word trail off.

    Ferene let out her breath, long and slow. ¡°I need you to explain it to her. I think she already knows, but I¡¯d like you to tell her.¡± He nodded.

    As the three of them reached the edge of the cave, looking down in the cavern, Ferene still saw no way to return to the rest of the stronghold. Relgren knelt down and reached out into the empty air and seemed to grab something. He held a thick, sturdy rope in his hands, the fibers colored the same as the mountain and covered in some kind of dust, hiding it against the wall perfectly. Ferene stared at it as he hopped over the edge, sliding downward.

    ¡°All of us know about it.¡± Sathar said, waiting a moment before following suit.

    After giving him enough time to get all the way down, Ferene grabbed the rope and slid down, using her feet against the wall to slow her descent until she dropped a short distance to a wooden scaffold connecting two caves. Looking up, she could not see the rope she had just used.

 Chapter 8: Farewell

    For the next two weeks, Ferene found herself pulled into a new schedule.

    Her morning routine stayed the same - after finishing breakfast and various chores, she went to the cave with the training area, this time bringing her own sword and armor. The short trip along the wooden platforms linking the caves together felt strange - she passed Hatharen wearing their simple shirts and leggings, while she herself was fully geared for battle. The first few days, she received stares, but after that they quickly ignored her.

    Rather than stepping into the ring to spar, she passed it to arrive at the familiar spot towards the back of the cave, where Relgren stood, waiting, every day. His methods did not change with their new deadline. Just as before, he would demand she assume a stance, adjust it until her form reached his standards, and then have her drop and take up the stance, repeatedly, until she got it right on her own. Then, he would alternate being having her attack him, which always ended in her being disarmed, or swinging at her, where he went easy on her and allowed her to feel the difference between how she used to fight and how he wanted her to fight.

    After stances, he started adjusting individual motions. Relgren¡¯s strict demands extended to every step she took and every turn she made while holding her sword. If an enemy stood behind her, he needed her to move in a very specific way to face the threat. If she had to step towards an enemy to negate their range advantage, or step away to utilize her own, Relgren pushed her to perform the movement precisely the way he wanted her to.

    Ferene grew more and more annoyed as each and every thing she tried to do was corrected multiple times in ways that she was sure would make no difference, and every time her frustration at being wrong was masked only by the wonder of it. Every single movement became easier and faster. The training sessions went on longer and longer as she found herself tiring less every day, not by increasing her endurance but by decreasing the effort of nearly everything she did without making anything feel worse.

    With her training taking nearly the entire day, she returned to her family every night, after cleaning up, just as they were sitting down for dinner. Filraehen always had food ready for her. Ferene smiled at her, making eye contact with Sathar and Ilraghen as well. The three of them got along just as they always did, the stress from before seemingly forgotten.

    Telhrian would smile at her as well, and she would smile back. The two of them hadn¡¯t talked about their disagreement, and Ferene figured they might never. Perhaps it was best to leave it behind.

    Rilya, though, was another matter. The two of them still slept side by side, whispering words of love to each other, but very little beyond that. Ferene¡¯s attempts at intimacy were repeatedly rejected, though Rilya reassured her each time. They were reaching the limits of what could be communicated with the one sentence they shared back and forth. Ferene did not know what was wrong, and did not know how to go about fixing it, as much as she wanted to. All she could do was wrap her arms around Rilya and tell her how much she loved her.

    In the second week of her training, Relgren returned Ferene to the ring, where more and more Hatharen gathered as they fully recovered from injuries received during the battle. Handing her a training sword, but not allowing her to remove her armor, Relgran selected two Hatharen to fight her.

    The practice fight started with Ferene facing both of them, standing with her fake greatsword in both hands, squaring off against one holding an axe and the other holding a spear. Her opponents opened by separating, circling her in opposite directions. Ferene immediately moved to attack the one with the axe, charging her target. Relgren never asked her to show him how she ran, never had a chance to correct her larger steps. This first move was entirely hers, as was the swing, carrying all of her momentum. The axe-wielding woman flinched back, not bringing her weapon up to stop Ferene¡¯s attack but rather shifting her entire body away to avoid it. Ferene easily continued with her momentum, flowing forward and knocking the woman away with an elbow to her chest. As she turned to face her other opponent, Ferene¡¯s entire body moved with precision, her feet, knees, hips, elbows, and shoulders all remembering the hours and poking and prodding to perform the spin just as Relgren instructed her, snapping her sword into position to block an attack she hadn¡¯t even seen coming.

    Emotions rushed through her mind, excitement and pride. Alien feelings. She blocked two strikes and then countered, not with her sword but with her leg, kicking out to strike at the spearman¡¯s knee. He moved with the blow, avoiding damage but letting that leg slip backwards. In the moment he took to readjust himself - a moment Ferene did not think she would have seen a week ago - she struck again, swinging her sword deliberately to knock his weapon aside, then stepping inwards, just as Relgren instructed, and punching her opponent under his arm, causing him to let go of his weapon with that hand. Relgren immediately called a stop.

    In a handful of seconds, Ferene defeated two Hatharen warriors. She felt lucky about the first one, and knew that in a real fight, the woman would have regained her footing and senses just as she defeated the other, if not faster. However, compared to all her sparring with the Hatharen before training with Relgren, there was a world of difference.

    In his typical fashion, Relgren immediately had the three of them do it again. The pair approached with the same tactic, but moved slower, more cautiously. Ferene immediately knew her previous assault wouldn¡¯t work out as it had before.

    Ferene lost the second match, taking out the woman with the axe but falling to her spear-wielding companion. The third match she tried to be more aggressive at the start and was immediately dropped to the floor, with Relgren remarking on her stupidity. A fourth match ended with Relgren calling her loss due to her taking too long. In the fifth round, Ferene won again, even faster than the first time, but lost the sixth after trying to change her tactics once more. She did not hear Relgren demand a seventh display.

    Each fight lasted less than a minute, but Ferene felt more exhaustion from that than from the hours of training the previous day. Yet she still stood upright, in full armor compared to the light clothing of the Hatharen, and looked to Relgren for her next instruction.

    He stood outside the training ring, talking to Rilya. Sometime during that all she had arrived, and Ferene paused to wonder why, her mind relaxing from the stress of combat, only to start worrying.

    After the two finished their discussion, the last few words whispered between them, Rilya stepped towards Ferene and smiled at her. ¡°I want to have a lot of sex with you right now.¡±

    Ferene blinked, staring up at Rilya¡¯s innocent smile. She wasn¡¯t sure if she had heard that correctly, but multiple responses rolled around in her head for a moment as she tried to figure out which one to say.

    Relgren broke out into laughter. Rilya looked from Ferene to Relgren, then to the gathered Hatharen, several of whom were pointedly looking away from her, and her cheeks took on a red tone. Spinning around, she quickly walked back to Relgren, sharp-sounding words pouring into the air. He laughed harder, and she turned to the gathered crowd and asked something. One of them responded, and her eyes went wide, the red draining from her face. She immediately launched into a long conversation with the Hatharen that responded, and after a moment of discussion the two of them stepped towards Ferene.

    ¡°She wants to talk with you tonight, and says to come back earlier than you usually do.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do that.¡± Ferene nodded to Rilya, who smiled in return. Relgren let out another barking laugh, and Rilya glared at him.

    After several more sparring sessions, with Relgren changing the number of opponents she fought and even giving them several different handicaps, Relgren released Ferene early, just as Rilya had asked. She quickly cleaned up and walked back to her family¡¯s home. Rilya and Telhrian sat there, waiting for her. Ferene felt the worry from before came back, but pushed it away, walking forward and sitting down with the two of them.

    ¡°You¡¯re translating for us?¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t have any objections, yes. Rilya has a lot to say, and to some degree it will affect all of us. Though your time here has been short, you are part of the family, so you leaving affects all of us.¡±

    ¡°She says this?¡±

    Telhrian nodded. ¡°She does, but I agree.¡±

    ¡°Go on then.¡±

    ¡°She trusts you and loves you. She understands why you can¡¯t stay here. She, and all of us, wish you could stay, wish things were different. She knows you have things you need to do, back in the human lands. You had a life before us, and we are only a small part of that. She wants you to remember her, and all of us, and your time here.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡± Ferene said, not looking at Telhrian, but directly at Rilya. He relayed her words, and she smiled back at Ferene.

    ¡°She wants to apologize for being distant this past week. The¡­the recent events have left us all feeling rather off.¡± Telhrian took a breath, shifting. ¡°Speaking on my own, none of us have witnessed something like the battle you saw. It has been thousands of years since so many of us have died at the same time. Our fights are usually limited to smaller skirmishes. We do train for that kind of fight, but it¡¯s not what we expect to see. The lives lost¡­We never expected to be in this situation.¡±

    ¡°You are fighting a war.¡±

    ¡°We are, but¡­¡± He trailed off, looking beyond her. ¡°That¡¯s not the point. Rilya wants to spend time with you while she still can.¡±

    Ferene nodded, reaching out to her and smiling. Rilya smiled back. ¡°Is that all?¡±

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    ¡°Well¡­ She knows you can¡¯t return here, but if you are ever in the area, she will find a way to reach you, if you can let us know you are nearby.¡±

    Ferene nodded at Telhrian¡¯s words, but her eyes were focused entirely on Rilya, as the other woman pulled Ferene into her lap. With a rustle, she heard Telhrian stand up and walk away.

    ¡°I want to have a lot of sex with you right now.¡± Ferene took the time to pronounce each word clearly as she smiled up at Rilya, who blushed in response before surging to her feet, holding Ferene with one arm under her legs and the other under her shoulders. The smaller woman let out a laugh as Rilya carried her into their small house and dropped her onto the bed.

    Over the next few days, Relgren made her training more intensive, though not more successful. She went from fighting two Hatharen with success about half the time, to fighting three with a rare victory, to fighting four at once where she could occasionally take out two before he called a stop to the practice and made them start over. The lack of success was only mildly annoying, as Ferene found herself reacting faster, and lasting longer after numerous repetitions.

    Despite his claims of being able to make her able to beat Sathar in a fight, Relgren was not improving her competence, but rather her endurance, and her chances at coming out of this kind of situation alive. Somehow, he understood what kind of fights she found in the human lands.

    On the other side of things, the Hatharen got better working together. Ferene learned, over the course of several days, that he was deliberately picking groups outside of their family units, forcing them to learn how to fight alongside allies they didn¡¯t spend all their time living with. Despite her size, Relgren forced them to approach Ferene the same way they would a Direag.

    Before the final day, she cut the training short, turning away from the other Hatharen and leaving the training arena, instead seeking out Tahrean. The elder was, as usual, in their own cavern at the edge of the stronghold, sitting with their feet dangling over the edge of the chasm.

    ¡°This is your last day here, is it not?¡± Tahrean asked, not even turning around, as Ferene stood behind them.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°It has been a long time since a half-human lived in the stronghold. As much as I wish you could have stayed here longer, I also wish you never came here at all.¡±

    Stepping forward, Ferene carefully lowered herself to sit down beside Tahrean. ¡°You said you would tell me what it used to be like.¡±

    ¡°I did, didn¡¯t I?¡± They laughed. ¡°I told you that I would gather my thoughts, and I did. Despite all the things that happened in such a short time, I was able to come up with a proper explanation.

    ¡°You see Ferene, in a time before time, before any of the six who lead the stronghold now were alive, before even Relgren, my people and I did not live here, high above the world. We lived down below, in the lands on both sides of the mountains. We spread out, having plenty of space for each of us, and we lived peaceful lives. We moved and socialized as we wanted, not being confined to small groups of potential breeding partners. We didn¡¯t think about that at all. We just lived, a timeless people that didn¡¯t care about time, that didn¡¯t worry about death or the future, because death did not exist and the future was something we would see when we got there.¡±

    ¡°Are you the only one to see it?¡±

    ¡°That is a good question, Ferene. Others would assume that I am, and not even think to ask. Surely the monsters to the north advanced on our peaceful society, and we retreated up into these very caves, and slowly were transformed into the sad, pathetic people you see living here today, weren¡¯t we? I am simply a relic of a different era, living in resentment of what the world has become, aren¡¯t I? That is the easiest truth to believe, and so I let them believe it, and tell it to each other, and none of them think to ask me. To think so few thoughts would be unthinkable in the time before, when we thought as many thoughts as we wanted.¡± Tahrean laughed.

    ¡°No, Ferene, I am not the only one to see it. For none of the ones living in the system they live in remember what it was like before, meaning that someone from the life before created this new, twisted way of life. It was not me, so do not think to ask that.¡± They smiled at Ferene, looking at her without turning their head. ¡°I would be offended if you did, so I have taken that chance away from you.

    ¡°Yes, the beasts fell upon our lands, and we fought back. We fought and died and learned about death. We learned that the future we took for granted was something we would need to fight for, to sacrifice for. So our age of sacrifice began. An obsession started. We sacrificed our lands, making our strongholds. We sacrificed our community, moving into the strongholds and separating us from each other, dividing into tribes. We sacrificed eternity, and devoted our lives to learning how to fight, learning how to do the one thing that would mean we would die. We were foolish, but we were prideful. We were young and old, sure of ourselves but lost in the changing world.

    ¡°As we started to see the future for what it was, disagreements arose. We sacrificed our unity. We fought and killed each other. Some had the idea of how to proceed, and saw other ideas as threats, and so the threats were eliminated.

    ¡°Do not look at me like that, Ferene. You know you must not tell anyone what I am telling you now. Yes, I have broken the one rule, however it was not a rule when I broke it. Those times are what lead to that singular rule being put into place. The victors, their hands covered in blood, declared that no more blood will be shed. How convenient for them, that the violence needed to be stopped only once they had eliminated all opposition.¡±

    Ferene eventually found her voice. ¡°You lived.¡±

    Tahrean turned to look at her, smiling. Ferene looked into their eyes, and did not see a smile there. She saw a darkness, a danger. Something that scared her. ¡°There is a contradiction, isn¡¯t there? I claim to be a peaceful individual, and I live outside of the system, in protest of it, yet if my story is to be believed, all that opposed the system were removed. So how am I still here, talking to you, you ask?¡±

    Ferene nodded, finding herself unable to speak, staring into those eyes.

    ¡°The answer is exactly what you should be thinking it is. Because I was not in opposition. I fought and killed to create the very society that I now despise. I killed the ones I loved more than anything else, claiming it was for the good of us all, and in the end I was left alone. My allies congratulated me on a job well done, as murdering my family - my parents and siblings, not the families they have today - was something to be proud of.

    ¡°It broke me. I could not accept it. I exiled myself to this place, just barely outside yet so far away. I refused to go along with them any more. They could take what I helped them build and they could run it without me. And they did. It makes sense when you understand the scale of it. The humans call them generations. How many years of fighting does it take to kill off everyone that would remember those times? Can you imagine it? If there were six hundred immortal lives, at one time, living here, and a few die every year, how many years would it take for them all to die?

    ¡°Hatharen die every year, but eventually the ones dying are not the same ones that started it. We raise our children and send them off to die as well. Parents outlive children. Children die seeking revenge for dead parents. Which generation is dying blends together, but eventually there are none left that started this cycle of death. They saw the future they made, Ferene. They lived in it, they fought for it, and they died. Did they die for this-¡° Tahrean waved an arm, taking in the entirety of the stronghold, ¡°or did they die for their past crimes?¡± They laughed. ¡°I hated them. I isolated myself because I hated them. Now the isolation is my future, and though I do not hate the children they left behind, I cannot assist them with their way of life.

    ¡°I live in regret, and my self-imposed punishment is that I will see the future I have created until the end. I will not escape from it by dying, I will not escape from what I did, the way they did. I will not forget. So, I commit one more crime, and make you part of my self-punishment. You will remember what I did, you will judge me. Tell me, Ferene. Make your judgment as a Knight Of Resh. Raise your sword and tell me if I deserve to live or die.¡±

    Somehow they were both standing in the center of Tahrean¡¯s cave. Ferene did not remember the two moving there from the edge, but here she stood, staring Tahrean down. Her hands held the hilt of her sword, and she shivered.

    ¡°No.¡± She whispered, only loud enough for herself to hear.

    ¡°No!¡± She shouted, and Tahrean smiled. ¡°No, you have to figure that out.¡±

    Tahrean laughed. Throwing their head back, they laughed loudly, the sound no longer light and joyful, but filled heavy and filled with sorrow. They did not stop laughing as they turned from Ferene and walked to their hut.

    The next morning started just as any other, with a silent breakfast. When she finished her last piece of bread, Ferene stood up, and the rest followed suit, even though they still had food on their plates. One by one, they turned and walked to their homes, quickly returning with various objects held under their arms. Ferene watched them all, standing clad in her armor, her greatsword on her back and her shortsword on her hip.

    Filraehen approached her first, handing her a package wrapped in waxed paper. Ferene opened one end, taking a look inside. Flattened bread and dried slices of potatoes. Ferene smiled at her, and Filraehen suddenly hugged her, patting her on the back before scurrying away.

    Sathar stepped forward, simply nodding to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t die.¡± He said, and Ferene nodded back.

    Ilraghen was next, looking at her as he stood in front of her, then looking away. Finally, he met her eyes again, and bowed deeply, saying something in the Hatharen language.

    ¡°He wants to thank you for everything you¡¯ve done for Rilya.¡± Telhrain said. He held out a small cloth pouch. Taking it, Ferene started to look inside, but he stopped her. ¡°That is not for you to see. Instead, give it to a human merchant. A smart one. You¡¯ll get a good price for what¡¯s inside.¡± Nodding, Ferene secured the pouch underneath her armor.

    Alri stepped up, wrapped her arms around Ferene, squeezing her tightly, then stepped back, running a hand through her hair and laughing. Ferene smiled back, not sure what to make of her.

    Finally, Rilya stepped forward, one hand behind her back. She looked at Ferene, shifted awkwardly, and brought the item out. She held a long-knife, the kind that every Hatharen wore when geared for battle. The kind that Linara had used to free her, all those months ago. Ferene remembered how Linara had been able to accurately throw it, proving it a deadly weapon even at a distance.

    Reaching out, she took the knife and pulled it from the sheath, looking at the blade. The metal was that strange black material of Relgren¡¯s sword. The base of the blade, where it met the hilt, featured a design, a circle split in two halves that twisted around each other. It was beautiful.

    Looking up at Rilya, Ferene opened her mouth, but couldn¡¯t form any words, even if Rilya could understand them. Rather than wait for her, Rilya took the initiative by kissing her, pulling away with a smile and a nod. The six of them stood together, watching, waiting. Ferene slid the knife back into the sheath and attached it to her belt. They all smiled at her.

    ¡°Good luck.¡± Telhrian said, and pointed at something behind her. Turning around, Ferene saw a rope attached to the edge of the cave, leading down into the darkness below.

    She felt like she should say something, but she didn¡¯t know what. Ferene never said goodbye before. Not like this. She only remembered how she said farewell to Tullund.

    ¡°Good luck.¡± She replied, bending down and wrapping her hands around the rope. Placing her feet on the wall of the chasm, she slowly lowered down into the darkness. Six pairs of eyes watched her descent.

    At the bottom, Ferene turned south, and followed the path until she stepped out into the light of the day. Behind her, the walls of the world stretched upwards, hiding the terrors that lay beyond, and housing the silent protectors. Before her, the human lands stretched outwards to the south. Somewhere out there was her father. Somewhere out there was Linara. Between her and them was an untold amount of filth, humans that fed on other humans, stole and raped and murdered, but among that filth, that unending mass of evil, were good people. Peaceful people. People that needed her protection.

    Ferene took her first step back towards the world she was born into.

 Chapter 9: Thieves and Rumors - 1

    Counting out a few triangular coins, Ferene paid the street vendor and took the small wicker basket offered. It was filled with small pieces of fruit, which she picked out and ate one by one as she walked through the town. The top layer had a mix of blackberries and raspberries, but under that it seemed to be mostly grapes.

    Her food from the Hatharen had run out, but she was glad to be back in places where she could find fresh fruit. Bread and potatoes weren¡¯t the most exciting meal, and after a week of the dried food on the road she was more than ready to move on to something else.

    So she ate her overpriced basket of berries and grapes, walking through the crowded street of a city she didn''t know the name of, in a kingdom she was equally unfamiliar with. At the very least, people on the street gave her some distance. Most of them seemed to steer clear of her with just a glance at her weapons, while others stared at her more closely as they stepped away, muttering to themselves.

    Tossing the last grape into her mouth, she stepped into an expensive-looking shop, the owner frowning at her. Approaching the counter, she wordlessly pulled out the pouch Telhrian had given her and set it down.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± The man behind the counter asked, poking at it experimentally. He stood a good deal shorter than Ferene, giving her a good view of the top of his bald head as he leaned forward.

    ¡°I was told to sell it.¡±

    He glanced up at her, raising an eyebrow, then looked back down, pulling the bag open to reveal a thick glass bottle with some sort of silvery substance inside. After staring at it for a few seconds, he slowly flipped the bottle over, then back again, before setting it down on the wooden counter. One of the few other people in the shop turned to watch from the side.

    ¡°Looks like junk to me.¡± The shopkeep said, shrugging as he looked up at Ferene. ¡°I could give you three half-circles for the bottle, if you wanted.¡±

    ¡°I was told it was worth a good price.¡±

    ¡°I think you got scammed by someone, then.¡±

    The other customer stepped forward, looking more closely around Ferene. Turning, she looked at him more closely. Barely shorter than her, the man looked malnourished. Bags under his eyes, his yellow hair a mess, and a flowing, long-sleeved shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders. Staring at the bottle, he worked his jaw, rubbing his lips together. ¡°Would someone really try to scam a long-ear? They must be very brave. Or very stupid.¡±

    The shop owner looked sharply at the other man.

    Ferene reached for the bottle. ¡°I¡¯ll try somewhere else.¡± The owner opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, watching intently as Ferene put the bottle back into the cloth bag.

    As she left the story, the skinny man trotted to catch up with her, panting slightly as he did so. ¡°Wait!¡± He called out, and Ferene stopped, turning to him. ¡°That¡¯s quicksilver, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know what it is.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± He caught his breath, standing up fully, looking her over, his eyes stopping on her weapons. ¡°Are you a warrior? Can you fight?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Going silent for a moment, he glanced away from her, his eyes wandering up and down the street, even looking over his shoulder. ¡°C-can I hire you?¡±

    Ferene stared at him. ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°For¡­for protection. I¡¯m, I¡¯m moving some valuable goods. And certain people want them. Thieves hired to attack me once I¡¯m out of the city.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to Ettsgras.¡±

    Something about what she said made him change. He stood up slightly straighter, his eyes taking on a more serious look, yet there was desperation there. ¡°I¡¯m also going to the capital. If, if we traveled together, could you-¡°

    ¡°Yes, but you have to tell me the full story.¡±

    The serious, desperate expression vanished, his face lighting up as he gave her an almost boyish grin.

    Velan, as he was called, brought her back to the inn he was staying at, showing her to his room. He spent several moments fumbling with the key to the door, before he managed to get it open. The inside was sparsely furnished, a simple bed against one wall and a desk against the other. Closing the door behind them, he pointed to the desk, which was piled high with thick books.

    "This¡­these are what they want. I''m from a small village, and everyone came together to pay for my education, so I could go to the capital and become a scholar. I have some amount of money to make the journey, but these books are worth a lot more than that."

    Ferene didn¡¯t know how much books were worth. Taking out the bottle, she placed it on the desk. She didn¡¯t know how much a lot of things were worth ¡°How much is this worth?¡±

    ¡°The, the quicksilver, to the right person, is worth a lot. You need to sell it to a proper alchemist. You can find one in the capital. It can be used for-¡°

    ¡°More or less than a book?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­more than one, less than two?¡±

    ¡°More or less than a horse?¡±

    ¡°More, unless you find a very good horse.¡±

    Looking over the stacks of books, Ferene considered. The man - the boy? - was carrying a lot of value, if that was true. "Well, we can leave together, and if they attack you, I can kill them all."

    "K-kill them?"

    Looking away from the books, she saw the horror on his face. Odd. "They are criminals."

    "I thought you might just, scare them off. Intimidate them so they leave me alone."

    Ferene took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "They go after someone else. Or they wait for a chance to surprise me. Unless they aren''t criminals, and don''t need to be killed." She turned directly towards him, stepping forward. He shrunk downward, having to turn his head to look up at her.

    "You can kill them." He said, pressing his lips together. "Nobody will have to fear them if they are dead."

    "Good. When do we leave?"

    "Tomorrow morning."

    "Wake me up when it''s time to go." Ferene said, walking over to a corner of the room and dropping down onto the floor. She heard Velan start to complain as she closed her eyes, ignoring him. She could still sleep like this, if she needed to.

    It turned out that Velan''s village had supplied him with more than just books. He had a small cart and a single donkey to pull it while he sat on a makeshift seat set on top of the bed. Ferene found the entire thing ridiculous, but there was no way he could carry the books. Looking away from him, she directed her gaze down the road. Somewhere over there was the capitol - Velan''s destination - and somewhere far beyond that were the independent lands. In the vast area between them, was Ferene''s father. Just the thought of it annoyed her.

    The two of them walked. Halfway through the day, he called a break and guided the cart to the side of the road, stepping off and grabbing a sack from beside the books. Taking out some bread, he offered one to Ferene. It was flat, hard travel bread, nowhere near as good as what the Hatharen gave her, but better than nothing. And free. He had told her he would pay her only after she dealt with his problem, but was more than willing to feed her until then. She slowly ate the bread while remembering the breakfast at the inn - freshly steamed oats and sliced apples.

    Oddly, Velan didn''t talk as they traveled, nor as they ate. He stayed silent, fidgeting occasionally, often turning to look back behind them. Ferene was fine with the silence, but his constant movements started to bother her more and more.

    "Is it your first time traveling?"

    He half jumped at her question, stopping to look at her. "Y-yes. I spent my whole life in the village or visiting my teachers. I''ve never been this far from home before."

    "I don''t have a home. What is yours like?"

    "You want to know about my village?"

    "No, I want you to keep walking forward and stop looking back. It''s annoying. Focus on talking."

    "Right, uh¡­I liked reading, growing up, so my parents sent me to study with a scholar nearby. While the other kids learned about farming, I read about the world. I learned about other kingdoms, other races, how things work. When I learned enough, I was sent to the city, where I had another teacher, then another. I learned math and logic. I got letters of recommendation from all my teachers, to show to the scholars at the capitol, so I can become a teacher to others, or an adviser to a rich noble, or¡­something. Something to make it all worth it. I miss my village, my parents, the animals. I liked reading and learning but I never asked to be sent away."

    "So why were you?"

    "Huh?"

    "Why were you sent away?"

    "To prove that my village is worth something. We fell behind in farming, and the local lord had to send for assistance, and he''s upset about it. So we need something to show our value. If I can be successful, send money back, they won''t have to worry about him taking the land. He wants the land.¡±

    "There''s a lot of evil in this world." Ferene said. Velan didn''t respond, but he stopped fidgeting. As they turned around a curve in the road, putting a hill between them and the now-distant city, Ferene stopped.

    This was the perfect place for an attack. An overturned wagon lay at the side of the road.

    Predictably, two cloaked figures stepped out onto the road from behind it, both drawing swords. Two more stepped out the other way, one holding a crossbow, the other an axe, moving to prevent them from running back down the road.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    "Alright lad, end of the trip for you. You spent a whole day running around the city and only found one guard? Give us the cart, go back home and neither of you will get hurt." One of the two in front spoke, a gruff female voice.

    "I won''t give you anything, so leave me alone and-" Velan shouted back, but was cut off by a crossbow bolt hitting the cart.

    "You''re weak. We''re strong. Give us what we want, or we''ll take it from you. The strong take what they want." This was the other one in the front, a male voice.

    Humans. Fighting over stupid things, going on and on about strength and weakness, preying on those that couldn¡¯t fight back, stealing and hurting and killing for fun. She hated it. Just as she hated the Hatharen outside of her family, she hated these humans as well. That hate instantly overflowed.

    Ferene drew her sword and time exploded.

    A second crossbow bolt flew over her head as she ducked, running full speed towards the shooter. The one with the axe tried to step in her way to protect the crossbow user, but she slammed her shoulder into them as she approached, far faster than they anticipated, shoving the weapon aside before cutting down the one behind. Blood flew everywhere, but she was already turning, bringing her sword around to slice into the chest of the Axe-wielder. Ferene caught another splash of blood as that one fell.

    Ferene specialized in running. She was already back at the cart, cutting the hand off the man as he made a grab for Velan, even before the bodies behind her stopped moving. He screamed, and she brought up her gauntlet-clad arm to block a sword swing from the woman. Kicking the man in the chest, Ferene advanced on her, simply battering the woman''s sword as she tried to block Ferene''s assault.

    It was pathetic. After all her practice with the Hatharen, it felt so easy to just slaughter these four. Ferene knocked the woman''s sword out of her hand and then slashed her neck, then turned on the one-handed man, who looked at her, dropped his sword, and fled. Ferene ran him down like an animal.

    She was the strong one, and they were the weak ones. Ferene breathed heavily, the smell of blood filling her nostrils. She was covered in it, but she didn''t care. She felt powerful. She felt excited, in a way she hadn''t felt excited before. It had never been so easy to remove filth like those four. She looked to Velan. He was pulling himself up off the ground after ducking under the cart. Stepping towards him, she offered him a hand up. He smiled nervously at her as she helped him to his feet.

    When he stood up and leaned back against the cart, breathing heavily, Ferene found herself staring at him. When she thought about it, she hadn¡¯t been this close to someone like him before. His skin was pale from staying inside, his arms thin, lacking muscles from working in the fields or training. He was weak and delicate, yet despite that she found herself drawn to him. She remembered the way he smiled, the way his eyes lit up despite how tired he looked.

    ¡°Ferene?¡±

    Coming back to her senses, she found herself face to face with him, leaning in, far too close. His eyes were wide, a mixture of confusion and¡­fear?

    He was afraid of her. Of course he was. She killed four people in a number of seconds. She was covered in their blood. He likely never held a weapon before, never saw someone die.

    "I''m¡­going to clean myself up." He nodded at her, his hands shaking as he climbed back into his seat. She picked up her sword and grabbed a waterskin from the cart, carelessly pouring it over herself. She could only wash away the blood, but she wanted to wash away the memory.

    What had come over her, in that instant? A little more than a month away from humans, and this was how she started acting? Her training with Relgren made her faster, stronger, but she lost control of her emotions so easily?

    The last time she had killed people - actual people, not the monsters from the north - in that cave, something else had happened to her. That was different. Rather than desperation, she found herself feeling¡­arrogance? These human thugs were beneath her, yet she still wanted to destroy them. To cut them down.

    Slowly, she realized she never valued herself more than them before. She wanted to kill them, but she never thought herself any better than them. She did not. She had become arrogant. An idea lurked in her mind, a whisper that she was more than humans. Better than them. She pushed back against it.

    The two of them traveled down the road, wordlessly, leaving the corpses behind. Ferene walked in front of the cart now, not wanting to look at him. She wasn''t sure if he was staring at her, or watching the ground. She didn''t know which she wanted him to be doing ¨C watching her in case she did something else, or refusing to look at her at all? She didn''t look back to find out.

    She remembered her dream, all those weeks ago. Giving orders, having whatever she wanted. She had forgotten about that part, given where the dream had gone after that. She could become that person, if she wanted. It would be so easy to do so. Everything she had done so far would mean nothing, everything she had worked to change would become undone. She could be so much worse than all the people she had killed. Today she learned that. She needed to be more careful. She was stronger than she was before, and it would be harder for someone to stop her.

    Night fell, and Velan broke the silence. ¡°I need to sleep.¡±

    ¡°I don''t. I''ll keep watch.¡±

    She turned to look at him, catching him staring at her, an odd expression on his face, before he shook his head.

    Staying awake was easy, as Ferene was horrible at keeping track of time. She slept when she got tired, or when someone else told her to sleep. Traveling with others, she''d sleep when they did, even if she didn¡¯t need to. When she was with humans, she slept like a human. With Linara or the Hatharen, she slept less. She wasn¡¯t sure why that was, but right now she didn¡¯t feel tired. She could probably keep walking at the same pace through the night and the next day, if she needed. How tired she felt seemed more about activity than time.

    Somewhere on the road behind them were four dead bodies. Was that everyone he had been worried about? Were there more? Ferene watched the road for hours, but it was boring. Her mind wandered. She looked over at him, sleeping. The memory of what she had done came back to her, and she looked away. She should leave him, if the threat is gone. He''d be better without her, since she was the threat now. Unless the threat wasn''t gone, and he''d end up just as dead as the four she had killed. She ground her teeth together. She ran away from human lands after making a mistake, and as soon as she came back, she made another one.

    Morning came, Velan woke up, and he handed her more flatbread. They ate in silence. She did not ask him if more people were after him. The two of them continued walking on the road, Ferene still in front. She didn''t know if he was fidgeting or not. She had spent too long away from this world. Alongside the arrogance, she could feel the hatred there. Telling her who she was, what she was, contradicting the other thought. Fighting and training with immortals didn¡¯t change the fact that she was still a murderer. She enjoyed using her newfound strength to kill those people, unlike before. She was worse now, not better. Those were the words it whispered to her.

    Shaking her head, Ferene rose to her feet, stepping away from their small campsite. Too many thoughts in her head, too much introspection, too much worrying. Could she go back, return to the way she was before? Before Linara, before Rilya, before Telhrian and Sathar and Tahrean?

    Did she want to?

    Did she want to forget about what it felt like to be loved, to be wanted, to have a family that cared about her and looked after her? People that would stand up for her? A teacher that wanted to help her? Her thoughts now were because of that. She looked down on the humans because they had never shown her that much kindness. Or they had, and she had not trusted them. Tullund had offered her friendship and she rejected it. The bounty hunters offered her a place with them, and she ran away.

    Part of her was human. Rejecting humans would be no different than the Hatharen rejecting her.

    ¡°Was that all of them?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°The people following you. I killed four yesterday. Are there more?¡±

    Velan hesitated before responding. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Two of them approached me and told me to hand over everything. I refused, they said they would take them from me soon. I hope there aren¡¯t any more.¡±

    Ferene stayed silent for a time before speaking. ¡°If there aren¡¯t any more, you don¡¯t need me.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I¡¯d like you to stay with me until we reach the capital.¡±

    Stopping, she turned and faced him. The donkey drew to a halt as well. ¡°You¡¯re scared of me.¡± She stated.

    ¡°I am.¡± Velan responded immediately. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone wouldn¡¯t be, after seeing what you can do. But you protected me. So I know that you¡¯re on my side.¡± He smiled down at her. She thought he was cute when he smiled. She never thought that way before. It bothered her. She turned around and kept walking down the road.

    That night, they stopped at a roadside inn. Several other wagons sat outside, and the stable was half-full of horses. Velan told Ferene to stay with the wagon as he went inside, then came back, followed by a young man who took the donkey into the stables.

    Velan stood next to his wagon, staring at the books. ¡°We could carry them to the room, but there¡¯s a lot of people inside, and they would see. I could leave them here, but if anyone sees them they can just take them without us knowing.¡±

    ¡°Take them up.¡±

    ¡°But-¡°

    ¡°Why am I here?¡± Ferene looked at him. He nodded and picked up half the tomes, his arms straining under the weight of the stack. Ferene didn¡¯t grab the rest, but walked ahead of him, shoving the door open loudly and walking into the middle of the room. Heads rose from drinks and plates to look at her. Ferene turned in place, surveying the room. Some fifteen guests, scattered about. A few of them looked like mercenaries, their weapons and armor too mismatched to be proper soldiers. Most were clearly merchants of one kind or another, with the last few people dressed in simple farmer¡¯s clothes. Velan walked up the stairs without drawing much attention, as most who looked up at Ferene turned back to their tables after meeting her glare.

    Stepping towards a table occupied by two of the mercenaries, Ferene slid into the third seat, nodding to them.

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Hired guard.¡± She replied.

    ¡°Hired guard? Not responding to the call? Missin out on the good life.¡±

    Ferene frowned. ¡°The call?¡±

    ¡°Thought you¡¯d know, given all this.¡± The other one said, gesturing at her weapons. ¡°War coming, army being formed. Figured we¡¯d sign on, get in on some extra gear and training. Hear the General is the best.¡±

    Out of the corner of her eye, Ferene saw Velan carrying a second stack of books upstairs. ¡°I¡¯m from far up north. Don¡¯t know anything about any of that, war or general.¡±

    ¡°King got a special general with a magic sword. Training up the army in ways nobody has ever done before.¡±

    Ferene raised an eyebrow. She had never heard of a magic sword before. ¡°Have you seen him? What¡¯s his name?¡±

    They both shook their heads, and the first one answered. ¡°He¡¯s been around for the past ten years, but mostly in the castle or at the military fort. Common folks like us don¡¯t get to see him, until now. Two more days of travel and we¡¯ll be there. Don¡¯t know his name, everyone just calls him the General.¡±

    Nodding, Ferene stood up, dropping a few triangular coins onto the table. ¡°Some drinks, on me.¡± Then she walked upstairs, looking for Velan. She met him as he was coming back down a hallway.

    ¡°Is there a war coming here?¡±

    He stopped in his tracks, staring at her oddly. ¡°People have said there¡¯s going to be a war for as long as I can remember.¡±

    ¡°Men down there say there¡¯s an army being formed at the capital, and a general is there.¡±

    ¡°Everyone knows about the general.¡± He craned his neck, looking past Ferene towards the stairs. ¡°Let¡¯s talk inside.¡±

    The room he led her to was smaller than his last one, with a bed taking up the entire wall, a large chair in one corner, and the two stacks of his books in the other.

    ¡°Ettsgras and Celngi have been going back and forth on a strip of land to the west for some forty years or more. One side claims it, the other side makes a counterclaim, there¡¯s threats, treaties, treaties get broken, more threats are made. Fifteen years ago both sides put soldiers near it, a few battles broke out, and Celngi took it. At first people said there would be a full war over it, but Ettgras accepted the loss. Then they said Celngi will gain confidence and push for more, try to take the border towns. I don¡¯t know any more than that.¡±

    Ferene let out a deep breath. She remembered the fighting in the north. A battle. With the humans it would be even larger, with more dead, more dying. Of course humans were fighting wars. It shouldn¡¯t concern her, but the memory of watching the fighting, watching people die, clung to her mind. One of many things she couldn¡¯t forget.

    ¡°We should get to sleep.¡± She said, turning and stripping off her gear, piling it beside the chair.

    ¡°I ordered a bath for you, if you want it.¡± His voice came from behind her, muffled. She turned around and saw him staring at the opposite wall. ¡°Down the hall on the right, there¡¯s a second set of stairs. Goes to the baths.¡±

    Ferene didn¡¯t need any more information. In just her undershirt and leggings, she trotted off, finding the stairs down to a room branching off to a number of stalls. One was open, and inside she found a large bucket of clean water set in the floor, with a towel and soap next to it. Closing the door behind, she set about scrubbing the grime, sweat, and blood off of herself.

    Upon returning to the room, she found Velan already in bed, rolled over to one side. She walked over to the chair, sitting down and pulling her jacked over herself. It was Lebb¡¯s jacket, from all those weeks ago. Maybe even two months, it was hard to remember.

    ¡°We can share the bed. If you want.¡± Velan¡¯s voice came from the other side of the room after a few minutes.

    Ferene stopped breathing. ¡°Are you sure?¡± She finally said.

    ¡°I-If you aren¡¯t, um, covered in blood. And other things. I¡¯m a lot more open to you, well, pushing me down.¡±

    She felt herself swallow. Standing up, she slowly walked over to the bed, sliding under the sheets. ¡°I¡¯m not going to do that.¡± She said, firmly, as she lay next to him. He was cute, but¡­she shouldn¡¯t want him. She didn¡¯t need him. What happened before was a random impulse. She held onto that thought as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

 Chapter 9: Thieves and Rumors - 2

    Ferene woke up to the feeling of a warm weight beside her, and reached out, wrapped her arms around it and pulled it towards her. The other person moved far too easily to be Rilya, and she suddenly remembered it was Velan. Blushing, Ferene pushed herself away, out of the bed. ¡°We should get going as soon as we can.¡± She quickly said. Velan responded with a yawn, slowly pushing himself upwards.

    Ferene dressed, finishing donning all her armor before the man was fully out of the bed, staring at her and rubbing his eyes.

    She carried a stack of his books down to the wagon and then stood next to it, waiting. Eventually Velan showed up with the rest of the luggage, collected the donkey, and they set off in silence, hearing someone calling out behind them that breakfast was ready. Part of Ferene wanted a hot meal, but also wanted to get to the capital and part ways with Velan as soon as she could.

    In the past she easily pushed people away. She wanted to push him away, to not feel the desire to look back at him as she walked ahead of the wagon. Ferene did feel that, and rather than push him away she just wanted to get away from him faster. While traveling south, alone, she didn¡¯t notice it, but now, here, talking and traveling with Velan, she felt a sense of loneliness. Ferene missed her family. She missed eating with the group, watching them as they talked without her understanding, she missed gathering laundry and feeding the chickens, she missed Rilya.

    So she wanted to use Velan to deal with that, even though she didn¡¯t really know him, or even trust him. It felt wrong. She couldn¡¯t go back to how she was before, pushing away Tullund when he tried to help her. Never before did she want to be around others, but a taste of it left her unwilling to go back.

    As they traveled, the road widened, becoming more crowded. The fields on either side grew tamer, with the occasional farmstead consisting of larger and larger houses, or even multiple buildings. A group of soldiers on horseback overtook them from behind, not even stopping to look at the pair. A caravan of wagons slowly passed going the opposite direction, the train seeming to last forever, until eventually the final wagon was behind them. In the distance to the west, the walls of the capital rose upwards.

    The capital dominated a wide hill, just a bit higher than the other rolling hills surrounding it. At the very top, the castle itself sat, looking small and frail at this distance, but standing tall above the city wall surrounding it. Outside the city, houses crowded the land, thinning out as they spread away from the walls, like swirling tendrils bending downward.

    ¡°Look over there.¡± Velan said, and Ferene turned around to see him pointing off to the side. Following his hand, she looked down into the valley north of the city. Countless tents and banners stood. Suddenly Ferene felt overwhelmed. How many tents were there? How many people? An army of a nation couldn¡¯t be more than the people of the nation, could it? How many lived in the city, then? Marching with the Hatharen was nothing compared to the gathering of humans in those tents, and even her memory of Cefgras was dwarfed by the size of the capital city.

    Before her stood the true nature of the human lands.

    The stone road twisted up the side of the hill towards the city. Small wooden houses lined the sides of the road, the inhabitants stepping out to watch as the travelers made the slow approach to the city gate. Ferene and Velan found themselves in a cluster of other wagons, carts, and people on horseback or just on foot. As they drew closer to the wall, the observers became fewer in number but better off. The gaunt, skinny individuals peering out every door and window replaced with just a few decently dressed men and women standing in the open, watching directly.

    The group came to a near complete stop just outside the gate, as a cluster of guards inspected each person before allowing them through. Ferene saw a few people and even a wagon pulled off to the side to make room for those following. Looking to Velan, she met his eye and he nodded at her, but said nothing else.

    ¡°Visit or stay?¡± The guard asked when the two of them finally reached the front of the line. He looked at Ferene, tilting his head upwards slightly to be able to meet her eyes under the rim of his metal helmet.

    ¡°Staying.¡± Velan said, drawing the guard¡¯s attention even further upwards. ¡°I am here for the University. I have letters of recommendation from-¡°

    ¡°Just show me one, so I can verify and send you on your way. What about her?¡±

    ¡°She is my bodyguard.¡± Velan said, pulling a paper out from between the pages of one of his books and handing it to the guard, who gave it a quick glance before returning it.

    ¡°Will she be staying here, or just visiting?¡±

    Ferene frowned, unsure of what to say, but Velan answered for her. ¡°She will be staying through my admissions process, in the unfortunate and unlikely event that I fail and have to return home.¡±

    The guard turned to face her. ¡°You may keep your weapons, as you will be a temporary resident and not a visitor. If you use them for any violent acts inside the city they will be forfeit. Do you understand?¡±

    After Ferene nodded, the guard waved them through the gate.

    Inside the city revealed a different world.

    The stone road spread out, becoming the very ground Ferene walked on. Rather than stones being set into the dirt, patches of dirt, with plants or ponds, were placed in the gaps in the stone. A few trees here, some bushes there, but the rest of the ground was made of cut stones. Ferene wondered if there used to be more mountains like those in the north, before they were reduced to fist-sized blocks to make this city.

    Unlike Cefgras, the houses rose upwards, two, three, and sometimes even four stories, made of varying combinations of brick, stone, and wood. Narrow streets, some so cramped that not even Velan¡¯s cart could fit, ran between the buildings. In the sky above it all, the castle loomed, another construction of yet more stone.

    Then there were the people, and the noise that came with them. Ferene had never seen so many people before. Everywhere she looked, her eyes were filled with people. They walked and ran down the streets, some stopping to approach her. Shouting, waving things in her face, begging. She glared at them, and they backed off, only to turn and approach Velan behind her, crowding around him to the point where Ferene was amazed the donkey didn¡¯t panic. She stepped closer to keep them away.

    The market they passed through was the worst. Her skin tingled as she found herself assaulted from all sides by noises. People shouting from stalls about their goods. The small town she met Velan in could not compare to the sheer chaos of Etsgras.

    She walked beside his cart, letting him guide her through the mess, across the market and through the streets, following a path that slowly brought them closer and closer to the castle, until veering off to the side when the walls of it rose above the houses in front of them.

    The University turned out to be a massive building, nearly as tall as the walls of the castle and wider than multiple city blocks, but lacked any form of distinction. The unadorned red brick wall stretched along the side of the street, and the two of them followed it until they found an entrance. The wall suddenly gave way to an intricate receded entryway, the brick fading into gray stone, thin, spindly pillars supporting the roof above the massive double doors made of wood and braced with gold straps.

    Two guards stood at this gate, dressed in long robes, with thin dueling swords at their waists. Ferene felt they looked ridiculous, but they both turned to look at her, then at Velan, as he hopped off the cart and presented them with a piece of paper.

    ¡°Prospect Velan.¡± The guard who took the paper said after staring at it. ¡°Your arrival is timely. There will be an examination period next week. Will you be participating?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Ferene frowned at his stiff reply. She couldn¡¯t see his expression.

    ¡°You and your servant can find lodgings at number of inns nearby. Come back here in nine days, with all your materials and references.¡±

    ¡°Certainly.¡± He replied, turning and mounting the cart again. Ferene saw his face, his jaw clenched, his lips pressed together in a tight line. She waited until they started down the street.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I was hoping to get inside. If you are a student, or a promising candidate, you are given a free room and free meals. My recommendations should have gotten me inside, but they aren¡¯t even letting me inside. I have to wait for the examination.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Is that a problem?¡±

    He pulled on the reins, causing the donkey to stop. ¡°I don¡¯t like waiting.¡±

    Velan took her to an inn nearby, a tall building with a fancy exterior and even fancier interior. The single room he reserved for them held beautiful, but impractical, furnishings, aside from the bed. Just looking at the wide frame and thick, stuffed mattress made Ferene remember her inability to sleep on the bed back in Cefgras.

    The two went back downstairs to the common area, where they found a wide range of dishes prepared for dinner. Ferene picked out several rolls and fruit spreads for herself.

    ¡°Those aren¡¯t supposed to be the main course.¡± Velan commented as the two of them sat down at a table to eat.

    Ferene shrugged.

    After the meal, she once again found herself laying next to Velan, again refusing anything more intimate than their proximity. He fell asleep, but Ferene found herself still bothered by the softness of the mattress. Pushing herself out of bed, she pulled her clothes on before stopping to look at the pile of her weapons. The guard warned her about violence, but she didn¡¯t want to be completely unarmed in a human city. Picking up the dagger Rilya gave her, she slid it into the inner pocket of her jacket. It was big enough to be slightly awkward with the jacket closed, so Ferene left it open.

    The city was bright, even at night. Light showed through a few windows, but most of the illumination came from the intersections of the streets, where large braziers sat. Ferene walked from one lighted crossing to the next, ignoring those she walked past. While the streets were nowhere near as crowded as they had been during the day, Ferene still felt there were just too many people outside. As she strayed further from the center of the city, the numbers thinned out, until she could relax more, no longer needing to constantly weave around others on the narrow streets.

    At a larger intersection, voices drew her to a large gathering. Men stood in a circle, watching something and shouting. Ferene moved closer, pushing through the crowd to get a look. At the center, two men, bare chested, grappled each other in the dirt. As she watched, one fighter slammed the other down, pinning his opponent as the noise from the crowd grew louder. After struggling for several moments, the pinned man slapped the ground three times, and someone from the side stepped into the right, pulling the top man off. Some of the crowd broke out into cheers while others booed. Ferene turned and left, remembering the last time she had fought someone bare-handed.

    Ferene continued to wander, and found the lights growing dimmer, the braziers at the intersections being unlit or absent entirely, giving way to wider streets and buildings with torch-lit entrances. From one of these entrances a man stumbled into the street, clearly drunk. Ferene stepped around him and kept walking. She didn¡¯t know what she was looking for.

    A voice from the darkness drew her attention, leading her down an alley until she stepped out into a small lit square. The lights surrounding an open door illuminated the entire space, revealing the backs of other buildings and another exit leading to the street on the other side of the block. Four men stood facing the entryway, looking up at a man and a woman standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the steps, staring back at them.

    ¡°I could have forgiven you for a few coins, but when you bring your friends, it starts to be too much.¡± One of the four men said, pointing at the woman. The two in the doorway wore the same plain clothes, while the ones arrayed against them were dressed in a variety of flashy tunics.

    ¡°I thought business was business.¡± Ferene noticed the man tensing up as he spoke, the woman next to him doing the same. She immediately felt that these two were trained and experienced.

    ¡°Business is business, and math is math. If you drive away other patrons, it¡¯s not profitable to have you around. Too many factors adding up against you. Soldiers put people on edge, and they came here to relax. Then you have a woman participating.¡± The first man spoke harshly, as the other three stepped to the side, blocking the soldiers from leaving.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡± The woman asked. ¡°I paid the same as anyone else.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any objections, but it makes some people uncomfortable. This is a place for men to be men. You ruin the atmosphere.¡±

    ¡°If a single female customer ruins the atmosphere of your brothel, it can¡¯t have been good to begin with.¡± The male soldier said. ¡°We¡¯ll find somewhere else to spend our money.¡±

    The first man chuckled. ¡°You can do that, but only after you make up for all the money you cost us by driving away the other guests.¡±

    Ferene saw one of the others pull a knife, keeping it hidden behind his back. ¡°Having easily offended customers isn¡¯t our problem.¡± The woman said, stepping forward. She was only looking at the man in front of her, and so when the one with the knife lunged she was slow to react, bringing her arm up to shove the blade aside. She cried out as it cut into her skin. The noise sent everyone into motion.

    The other soldier immediately shoved her behind him, bringing his other hand up just in time to harmlessly slap another knife away. The man that spoke earlier stepped back and drew a knife from a belt pouch as the last attacker moved in, also brandishing a knife. Ferene stepped forward as he stepped back, grabbing him from behind. Shouting in surprise, he tried to turn towards Ferene, but she pried the knife out of his grip, far too easily, and buried the blade all the way to the hilt in the side of his neck. He fell to the ground.

    All five of the others stopped, staring at her. The three thugs broke and ran, going for the two alley entrances. Ferene moved to intercept one, but the male soldier stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulder. She glared at him as the sound of footsteps faded. His companion, still bleeding from her arm, moved to the other alley and slowly walked down, sharing a look and a nod with her partner.

    ¡°Why?¡± Ferene asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I want to ask you! You just killed-¡°

    ¡°He was trying to rob you, and his men attacked you, when you did nothing wrong.¡±

    The soldier stared at her, eyes wide. ¡°You- You can¡¯t do that! We could have handled it. He was a landowner. Now he¡¯s dead. We¡¯ll have to report this, and¡­¡± He trailed off, his eyes going to her ears.

    ¡°And what?¡± Ferene pressed when he didn¡¯t continue.

    Five guards entered the square from the alley, wearing armor and wielding spears. Four of them immediately surrounded Ferene, pointing their weapons at her. The last one looked at the dead body.

    ¡°This is an army incident.¡± The soldier suddenly spoke, not stepping away from Ferene, even putting himself between her and one of the guards. All five of them suddenly looked at him in confusion.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± The fifth man said, standing over the dead man. ¡°We get told there was a death, weapons involved, and now it¡¯s an army incident? I hope you aren¡¯t serious.¡±

    ¡°I am. This girl is the killer, but I¡¯m taking her to the camp. We will deal with her.¡±

    ¡°Her weapon-¡°

    ¡°It¡¯s not hers.¡± The soldier immediately said. ¡°It belongs to the dead man. She disarmed him. She did not draw a weapon and commit a violent act. Put that in your report.¡±

    The guardsman stared at the soldier, his jaw clenched. ¡°Fine. Get her out of here.¡± He spat, making a hand gesture. The other four lowered their weapons, looking uncertainly between their leader and the soldier.

    ¡°Come with me.¡± He said to Ferene, before leaning in closer. ¡°I just saved you a lot of trouble.¡± Whatever was happening was beyond Ferene, so she nodded and let him pull her by the arm through the alley. His companion was waiting there, a cloth pressed against her arm.

    ¡°What¡¯s with her?¡± She asked immediately.

    ¡°Hatharen. I have to take her to the general. You should go get that properly attended to.¡±

    ¡°I should go with you.¡±

    ¡°Taya, just go get your arm stitched up.¡±

    Sighing, the woman nodded before leaving the two of them. The soldier turned to Ferene once more. ¡°Come on.¡±

    Thankfully, he did not drag her by the arm all the way to the camp outside the city, instead allowing her to walk in front of him as he directed her which way to go. They made their way through a gate, this one watched by plated-mail wearing men with swords strapped to their belts, rather than the city guardsmen in chainmail with spears. They followed the road down the side of the hill towards the mass of tents and banners lit by campfires.

    Ferene found herself in a second city, this one made of cloth and wooden poles. The tents were arranged in neat lines, forming blocks and intersections just like those in the city. She once again was led towards the center, where a notably larger tent stood. A large number of soldiers were still awake, sitting at campfires while they tended gear or talked to each other. Ferene and her escort drew many looks as he guided her through the maze.

    The two of them were stopped quite a distance from the large tent, a man in plain clothes but with a sheathed sword in his hand intercepting them. Ferene¡¯s escort stepped in front of her, snapping to attention.

    ¡°Soldier, explain the situation.¡±

    ¡°Complicated, Captain. Bad interaction with the locals, bystander became involved, local dead, soldier wounded. I claimed an army incident to get her out. She¡¯s a Hatharen, sir. I thought I¡¯d take her to the General.¡±

    The Captain brought his free hand to his chin, scratching at the thin beard there for a moment before waving the soldier off. ¡°I¡¯ll take it from here. Find a clerk to deal with the rest of the problem.¡±

    Bowing, the soldier ran off, leaving Ferene alone with the Captain. He looked up at her, the top of his head only coming up to her nose. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Ferene.¡±

    Wordlessly, he turned and walked deeper into the heart of the camp. Ferene followed. Unlike the near endless neat rows of tents she had passed to get here, the center of the camp looked more natural in its arrangement. Groups of three or four tents clustered together, with large open spaces in between. A few large tables dominated some of these, while others lay empty. Rather than campfires, tall torches provided light, rising above her head. Soldiers did not loiter here, but stood stiffly at attention, waiting. Ferene felt a tension in the air as she followed the Captain towards the large tent at the center.

    Turning to her, he frowned. ¡°Alright. If I tell you to wait here, you won¡¯t run off, will you?¡±

    Looking around, Ferene saw nothing but tents, torches, and soldiers. ¡°No.¡± She answered.

    ¡°Stay there.¡± He said. Many of the nearby soldiers stared at her as she stood and waited.

    Ferene did not have to wait long before the front flap of the tent was pushed aside, and the tallest person Ferene had ever seen stepped out and marched over to her. She found herself looking upwards at the person who could only be the General, standing a full hand¡¯s width taller than Sathar. Not just the height, but everything else about this individual set them apart. Ferene looked up into pale red eyes set staring back from under gray, almost white bangs, the rest of her hair falling in curls around the sides of her face. Dark gray skin, close to ash, looked pale in the harsh light of the surrounding torches.

    Of course, the General was Hatharen, long ears poking through the curls of hair.

 Chapter 10: The Generals Bargain - 1

    ¡°You aren¡¯t Linara.¡±

    These were the first words Ferene heard the general say. She didn¡¯t know what she expected, but the statement caught her completely off guard. Hesitating, she stared upwards, unsure how to respond.

    ¡°I¡¯m Ferene.¡±

    The massive Hatharen frowned, brow furrowing at this new information.

    ¡°Inside the tent.¡±

    The two stepped into the tent, and Ferene¡¯s eyes were immediately drawn to two fixtures. The first a massive suit of armor, black plates of metal standing in the shape of a person. The sleek curves gave it a different presence than the brighter, bulky, rounded armor of the soldiers outside. The second item was the sword hanging vertically, alone, on a rack. Like the armor, the blade was made of black metal, the one-sided blade offset from the hilt but curving upwards, with the back of it notched, a spike protruding. Both of these items felt wrong. They did not belong here, in the middle of the human lands.

    The General sat down in a chair, the wooden frame creaking under the weight. Ferene turned, looking her host over properly. A plain white shirt hugged the General¡¯s massive frame, revealing the muscles underneath. She was distracted as the massive woman grabbed a bag off the floor, pulling out a small book and flipping it open.

    ¡°The way Saral described you, I thought you were Linara. She¡¯s the only half-human I know about. I don¡¯t have anyone by the name of Ferene on my list. You are a half-human, aren¡¯t you? Not just short?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She replied, more confused now. ¡°I-¡°

    ¡°Great. I¡¯m Taradira Suladan - it was decided that someone of my position could not go around without a last name, so I was gifted one - General of Ettsgras, Hatharen Warden, Slayer of¡­¡± She suddenly frowned again, cutting herself off. ¡°I forget what they ended up calling that thing. Wasn¡¯t a great time. Regardless of my various titles, you can just call me Taradira. So, Ferene, what can I do for you? No, wait. Ferene, you have caused me a great deal of trouble. Except not really, but you need to think you have. I¡¯ll take care of it, it doesn¡¯t really sound like you made a lot of problems, you just need to be reminded not to break the rules. So, Ferene, don¡¯t break the rules. Also since you aren¡¯t in my book, I need to add you to it, so let me know what stronghold you came from and what your plans are while you are here.¡±

    Ferene found her head spinning as she tried to keep up. ¡°I-I just came from Yonthal.¡±

    Taradira frowned again. ¡°Yonthal rarely ever has contact with humans. What¡¯s the story behind that?¡±

    ¡°I met Linara near Cefgras and she sent me that way. That was the first time I met a Hatharen.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡± Taradira¡¯s frown deepened, then she relaxed, looking thoughtful. ¡°Let¡¯s start over. Tell me your story, from the beginning.¡±

    Ferene paused, remembering. It had been like this with Linara, but she hadn¡¯t told her the whole story. She hadn¡¯t told anyone the whole story. Even Rilya didn¡¯t know - regret flooded her as she realized she couldn¡¯t possibly tell Rilya all of it, and would have to rely on someone to translate for her. Shaking her head, she took a seat in a chair across from Taradira, and started to tell her story. All of it, from the beginning.

    It was slow at first. Ferene stumbled, stopped, started all over again, only to falter and go back to the beginning, trying again. Taradira watched her, silently, red eyes widening at one detail, narrowing at another, her mouth twitching, often frowning. Ferene noticed that Taradira frowned a lot, but she never spoke, not during the story.

    It slowly became easier. Ferene talked of her mother, then of the mine. She stumbled, hesitated, and quickly summarized her mother¡¯s death. The woman got sick and died because nobody cared enough to fetch a doctor. Her body was dumped in the sediment-filled river that ran past the entrance to the mine. Even this short summary was difficult for Ferene to say.

    She paused afterward, feeling guilty. She didn¡¯t speak of how she begged the adults to save her, how she cried afterward, how she tried to fight the man that had carried the body out and been beaten in turn for doing so. She just gave the most basic explanation, then fell silent for a time. Her audience stayed equally silent, waiting, until finally she continued her story.

    Ferene skipped other details of those times. It wasn¡¯t important. She found an opportunity to kill the ringleader, and she ran away, leaving the followers to turn on themselves as they fought over who should take his place. She did not speak of her mistakes afterward, of how she failed to protect her only friend and watched his body swing from the gallows of the town closest to the mine. She talked of setting out on her own, with just her sword and her clothes. She talked of practicing swinging her sword for hours upon hours, until her muscles hurt, every day.

    She talked about seeing a fight start in a tavern as one man accused another of picking his pockets, only to end up stabbed and dead on the floor. How she followed the killer afterwards, and killed him, taking his short sword and his armor for herself. How she immediately ran into his comrades and had to kill them as well. She did not tell Taradira how she felt doing that. How she wanted them all to die, how she wanted to die herself, how she hated everything. How that hate drove her. She talked of the years she spent doing the same things, but not of the feelings she held. That didn¡¯t matter. Those were hers, and hers alone. For now.

    She spoke of the soldiers in the crossing, of being captured, of meeting Linara. She spoke of them working together, and being told to go north, but also the warnings that she should not go there. She spoke of the Direag - that made Taradira¡¯s eyes go wide - and meeting the Hatharen that would very shortly become her family. Her fight with Ilraghen, the first few days in the stronghold, the skirmish to the north, the return. She talked about Tahrean and Relgren, and being brought before the council, and having to leave. In her memory, it felt like so much time, but talking about it now, it was so short. Those few weeks involved more emotion than she had experienced in entire years, but she did not tell Taradira that.

    Finally, she talked of meeting Velan, coming here, and killing the man outside the brothel. How she ended up in this very tent. That was all of it, the whole story, from the beginning, with all the details left out. Ferene tried to imagine that it was Rilya she was talking to, and thought that it would be so easy to say all the things she didn¡¯t, to cry as she exposed herself. Taradira was not Rilya, so Ferene found herself unable to say any of those things. She did not lie in her story, but she never once told the full truth. She knew that Taradira knew.

    ¡°I need to see your dagger.¡±

    At the end of all of it, those were Taradira¡¯s words. Ferene found herself unsure how to respond, but pulled the requested item out from her jacket and handed it over.

    Unsheathing the blade, Taradira held the black metal up to the light from the lantern hanging from a tent pole. ¡°You don¡¯t know this, but each of these is custom made, specifically for the one who carries it. They serve as both proof of who you are, and where you come from, but also tell a part of your life¡¯s story.¡±

    ¡°What does mine say?¡± Ferene watched Taradira flip the blade over, inspecting both sides. She had not seen anything like that on it, but didn¡¯t look too closely.

    ¡°It tells me that what you just told me and what you told the people of Yonthal is the same story. You were raised by humans in the human lands and were taken in by them. I¡¯m going to add you to my book with that information.¡±

    That was the second time the General had mentioned the book. ¡°What is the book?¡±

    ¡°A list of details on all the Hatharen living in human lands. As the Warden, it¡¯s my duty to keep track of them all. That¡¯s why I thought you were Linara when my men described you. Anyone staying in the human lands is supposed to report to me, so if anyone comes looking for them, I know where they can be found.¡±

    Ferene¡¯s eyes locked onto the small book. The information she needed was there. The reason she came here - not because of Velan, but because of her father.

    ¡°Do you want to see it?¡±

    Ferene shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t read. Human or Hatharen. But I need to find someone. Selveren, from Treventhal.¡±

    ¡°This is the one that might be your father?¡± Taradira flipped a page. ¡°I do have information on Selveren here.¡± She said after a moment of reading.

    ¡°Where is he?¡±

    Closing the book, Taradira frowned, then smiled. ¡°It is a long journey, and the two of us have only just met. I¡¯d like to get to know you better. It is not often that I get guests like yourself. If you do some work for me, I¡¯ll give you the information you want.¡±

    After a long silence, emotions rolling through her, Ferene nodded. Taradira smiled in response, her face lighting up. ¡°Excellent! I¡¯ll get you a place to sleep, and get you to work tomorrow.¡±

    Ferene spent the night in an army tent, with an army bedroll. While she couldn¡¯t call it nice, it felt right. Nowhere close to the unfamiliar softness of the beds at the inns, and harder than the bed she shared with Rilya back in Yonthal, the sack was filled with straw and felt like sleeping on straw. She liked it.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Waking up to a cacophony of noise, Ferene got dressed and stepped out of her small tent into a rush of life. The entire camp was awake, soldiers walking this way and that, setting up breakfast, running in groups, even some already sparring with each other, the clashing of metal on metal adding to the noise of everything else. Weaving her way through it all, she went back to the center, finding Taradira towering over a massive wooden table, bigger than the tent she slept in, surrounded by older men. Ferene saw them pointing at various things on overlapping maps spread across the surface.

    Eventually, Taradira noticed her, stepping away from the group. ¡°There you are. Ready to help out?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Ferene didn¡¯t feel ready, but went along with it anyway. Something about Taradira made it hard not to.

    ¡°Perfect.¡± She slapped Ferene on the shoulder, then called back to the group around the table. ¡°Alref, get over here.¡±

    One of the older humans also stepped away, approaching the two Hatharen. He frowned at the two of them, his gray eyebrows pulling together. ¡°Yes, General?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m giving you this one to help with that farmer problem you mentioned the other day. An outsider should help clear things up. Go get it taken care of.¡± Patting her on the shoulder again, Taradira strode back to the table, leaving Ferene alone with Alref. The gray-haired man glared up at her.

    ¡°Come here then.¡± He said sharply, turning and walking away. Ferene followed. ¡°Farmland surrounding the city belongs to the king, and the farmers rent it. Bit further out, it¡¯s owned independently. We want to buy out the land to the west of the capitol to prepare for war, but one family doesn¡¯t want to leave.¡±

    Ferene found herself frowning, trying to understand. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡±

    ¡°King tells the General to get the land. General tells me to take care of it. I send an offer. Farmers say no. Need them to say yes. Go talk to them. Find out how to deal with it. You have two days to get it done.¡± The man seemed annoyed with her. ¡°Follow this river all the way down to the bend, about a half day¡¯s walk. Third farm there is the one you want. Deal with it. General¡¯s orders. Not sure how a non-human is going to convince them of anything that we can¡¯t but she trusts you and everyone trusts her, for some reason.¡±

    Ferene nodded and started walking, wanting to get away from the man. After she was sure she wasn¡¯t being watched, she broke into a run. Ferene specialized in running, and wasn¡¯t going to stick to the estimation of a half-day¡¯s walk, especially when she hadn¡¯t eaten. Maybe the farmers would have something for her to eat.

    Gentle hills topped with neat rows of crops rolled passed her as she followed the river through a valley that wove between them. A far cry from the rough, flat plains of the Independent Lands, the vibrant green crops spoke to fertile land, the small farmsteads dotting the view looking peaceful. She found it hard to think that this land was on the verge of war.

    Rather than half a day, Ferene arrived at a drastic bend in the river after a few hours of running, the sun still shining from the east. The land flattened out as the river widened as it sharply turned south. Slowing her pace, Ferene leisurely walked down the riverbank, keeping an eye on the farmsteads she walked past.

    The third one after the bend was quite a ways down the river, a large house situated in the middle of a large field. Nobody called out to Ferene as she approached, walking through the gaps in the fields right up to the stairs on the front porch. Before she could step up, she heard a giggle from the other side of the house.

    Walking around the building, she arrived behind the house to the sound of more giggling, finding a young man and woman running through lines of hanging clothes. The woman was waving a blue piece of cloth over her head as she ran, giggling madly as the man, shirtless, ran after her. Ferene watched them for a few seconds before banging her fist against the side of the house, drawing their attention.

    The young woman stopped running, and the man immediately grabbed his shirt back, quickly tossing it on as they turned to look at Ferene. ¡°Ello, miss. Can we help ya?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­doing a favor for a friend. I think.¡± She tried to smile. At the very least, she avoided scowling at them. ¡°I¡¯m told that the king wants to buy your land. Or¡­something like that. I¡¯m not entirely sure.¡± After telling Taradira everything last night, speaking to these two should be easy.

    Their smiles faded as they looked at each other. ¡°Let¡¯s talk inside.¡± The woman said.

    Despite the size, the house was sparsely furnished. The main room had a single table pushed to the side, and a chest-high cabinet filled with small trinkets. The fireplace¡¯s mantle was bare, and a lot of open floor and wall space made the place look sad and empty. Ferene got the sense that at one time, more than just these two lived here, but those times were long behind the building.

    ¡°You¡¯re here to try to convince us to leave, then?¡± The woman asked, sitting down in a plain chair at the table, gesturing for Ferene to sit across from her.

    ¡°I was told that I need to get you to say yes to the offer. I don¡¯t know what the offer is.¡± Ferene wasn¡¯t sure how she was supposed to accomplish her goal like this. ¡°Maybe you can explain the entire situation to me.¡±

    The woman looked up at her friend - her husband? - and got a shrug in return. Nodding, she turned back to Ferene. ¡°My name is Ameila Lilian. This land was gifted to my great grandfather many years ago, by a previous king. It is my land. The current king wants it back. I¡¯m not much more than an educated farmer, but I¡¯m not giving it up. If he takes it by force he will alienate his more wealthy subjects, and that is not something he can afford right now.¡±

    ¡°Why does he want it?¡± Ferene asked.

    ¡°Needs all the land around the river for something. He can do whatever he wants with the rest of it, but this gifted land is different. Can¡¯t take it away the way he can with the other subjects.¡±

    ¡°What did he offer you in exchange?¡±

    Ameila laughed. Unlike her giggles from before, there was a harshness to her laughter. An anger. ¡°The offer was one of two choices. A house in the city, or money.¡± She looked up at the man again, as he stood leaning against the near wall. ¡°My family built this house. I want to fill it again. With children and friends. This is my family¡¯s land and I¡¯m not giving it up.¡±

    Ferene nodded. She didn¡¯t understand any of that. ¡°So your answer is no.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. The three of us aren¡¯t going anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Three?¡± Ferene asked.

    Ameila frowned. ¡°I hired a helper not too long ago. He¡¯s off fixing a fence on the north side this morning. Should be back soon. It¡¯s my decision though. This is my home and these two strays are under my protection.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯ call me a stray.¡± The man mumbled.

    Ferene sighed. ¡°Sounds like this isn¡¯t as easy as I was told it would be.¡±

    Amelia looked at her. ¡°So, what¡¯s with the ears? You really one of those?¡±

    ¡°My father is. My mother wasn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°So, if working for the king doesn¡¯t pan out for you, want a job here on the farm?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Ferene shook her head. This woman was strange. ¡°I¡¯m not working for the king. Someone else is, and I¡¯m doing them a favor. Just passing through.¡±

    Ameila¡¯s reply was cut off by the sound of the door opening. ¡°Garvin, you told me the fence needed to be repaired, you didn¡¯t say it was leaning over sideways. I can¡¯t fix it without the proper tools. Did my best, but I¡¯ll have to back out there.¡± A loud voice carried into the room.

    ¡°Fixin a fence is fixin a fence.¡± The man by the wall hollered back towards the entrance.

    Ameila rolled her eyes. ¡°Come in here! We have a guest. Introduce yourself properly.¡±

    Ferene turned at the sound of footsteps and suddenly froze, her eyes going wide. The man standing in the door frame was equally transfixed, his eyes locked onto hers.

    ¡°Ferene?¡± Tullund said, finally stepping into the room. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°You know this one? Good. She¡¯s got caught up with the king and is here to tell us to take the money.¡±

    Ferene couldn¡¯t speak. She knew it had only been a few months, but with everything that happened, it felt like so much longer, but Tullund looked almost no different from when they had parted ways. She never expected to see him again.

    ¡°She¡¯s the one I told you about. The one that helped me.¡±

    Garvin suddenly stood straight up. ¡°The one that killed all them bandits? Her? The one that slit their throats?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that one.¡±

    Ameila¡¯s lips pressed together as she looked from Tullund to Ferene. Ferene looked at her, then down at the table.

    ¡°Well, forget about all of that. Ferene, how about joining us here on the farm? I know you didn¡¯t like-¡°

    ¡°The king sent a murderer here, Tullund, you giant idiot!¡± Ameila cut him off, raising to her feet.

    Ferene suddenly felt the lack of any weapons aside from the dagger in her jacket.

    ¡°No, Ferene isn¡¯t like that. This has to be a misunderstanding. Ferene, tell her it¡¯s all a misunderstanding.¡±

    ¡°I never met the king.¡± Ferene said, keeping her voice level. ¡°The General wants the issue resolved. I¡¯m doing this for her. If she wanted to kill you, there¡¯s thousands of soldiers camped outside the capital.¡±

    That seemed to calm Ameila down slightly. Tullund stepped towards her, smiling reassuringly. ¡°Let me talk to her alone. I¡¯ll figure this out.¡±

    She met his eyes, holding his gaze for a moment while she bit her lower lip. ¡°Fine.¡± She finally relented. Tullund gestured for Ferene to follow him and walked into a second room. Following him in, Ferene found it to be similar to the main one, just smaller. Sparsely decorated, a long, low couch in front of a bare table, with two large armchairs on the other side. Neither of them sat down.

    ¡°How¡¯d you end up here?¡± Tullund asked.

    Pressing her lips together, Ferene took a moment to think. ¡°I met the Hatharen people.¡± She exhaled after several moments.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Tullund smiled, then frowned. ¡°Did you like them?¡±

    Ferene shrugged back. ¡°Some of them are fine. I had to leave. They told me to come here, and I found another. The King¡¯s General. She knows where a person who might be my father is. But she wanted me to help her solve this problem first.¡±

    It took him a short time to absorb that information. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how you can get what you want. Ameila won¡¯t give up the property.¡±

    ¡°Tell me about her.¡± Ferene asked. She didn¡¯t know where to start, but that seemed like the best place.

    ¡°She¡¯s young but smart. She has responsibilities that put pressure on her and she handles it well. She likes stories, I¡¯ve seen her reading a lot. She likes to laugh. She forces herself to be serious and sometimes overdoes it.¡±

    ¡°And the other one? Garvin?¡±

    ¡°Hired hand, just like me.¡±

    ¡°They get along well.¡±

    Tullund let out a small laugh. ¡°Ameila wants a storybook life. She wants to be the rich lady that takes in a poor farmer and they fall in love.¡±

    Ferene looked away from Tullund, remembering a dream she had, months ago. ¡°Both of you?¡±

    She didn¡¯t see his reaction. ¡°I¡­do my best to play along.¡±

    The two fell into silence. Tullund drew a loud breath. ¡°Why don¡¯t you help us out here for a bit? Show Ameila that you aren¡¯t here to threaten us. Maybe you can go back and convince your General that there can be other solutions. You know how to do basic chores, right?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Ferene nodded. It seemed like a good plan. Anything seemed like a better plan than her complete lack of ideas.

 Chapter 10: The Generals Bargain - 2

    Stepping back into the main room, Ferene found the other two sitting at the table now. Amelia stood up, turning to face them. ¡°So, what conclusion did you come to?¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t know anything about what is going on so she can¡¯t mean us any harm.¡±

    Frowning, Amelia leaned back against the table. ¡°What should we do with her?¡±

    Tullund chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m going to take her with me to finish fixing the fence.¡±

    ¡°Seeing you back there really surprised me.¡± He said as they walked. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to ever see you again.¡±

    Ferene stayed silent. Tullund had collected tools from a shed, and given several to Ferene to carry. She held a shovel in each hand, while he carried a hammer and several flat pieces of wood.

    ¡°At the house, I was thinking that you talk more than you used to, but as soon as we started walking you went entirely silent again.¡±

    She remembered this. He would talk as he walked. It was annoying. Velan had fidgeted at first, but stopped after a short conversation. Tullund seemed to constantly think of new things to say to her.

    ¡°It is amusing, to find you here on a farm, in the end. Doing work on the farm, as well. You were very vocal about not wanting to be a farmer.¡±

    Rilya, of course, also didn¡¯t talk to her. Her family had talked amongst themselves, letting Ferene stay silent. It seemed that only Tullund was so insistent on having a conversation with her. Even without getting a response he continued.

    ¡°I sold my bow, after you left. I considered it something I owed to you, for helping me.¡±

    ¡°You traveled here unarmed?¡± She suddenly asked.

    ¡°I bought space on a caravan.¡± He replied, not showing any sign of surprise at her choice to finally speak. ¡°They had armed guards, and we didn¡¯t run into any trouble anyway. A slow and uneventful trip.¡±

    Ferene nodded, though as he was walking in front of her, Tullund did not see it. The single response seemed to satisfy him, as they walked in silence the rest of the way to the edge of the farm, where he showed her the fence in question.

    A simple wooden structure, evenly spaced posts with two boards across them, marking some line Ferene could not see. Several posts were bent horribly, the holes loosened and the boards barely holding on.

    ¡°I put it up like this but we need to take it back down and do it properly. Fix the holes so the posts are straight, then put new panels on.¡± Setting his items down, he held out a hand to Ferene. ¡°Two of us, two shovels. Shouldn¡¯t take long.¡± She handed him a shovel, and they got to work.

    When Tullund had something to do, aside from walking, he was focused and silent. Ferene watched him expand the first hole, and then went and copied what he did further down. The digging went by fast. He then took over and finished it, reseating the posts and then hammering the new boards into place on top of the old ones. Ferene stood and watched him as he worked, suddenly remembering when he appeared in her dream.

    Shaking her head, Ferene decided that he was far too annoying to be intimate with. As much as she missed her family, missed Rilya, she did not want to spend more time with Tullund, especially if he talked that much. The version of him in her dream was much quieter.

    ¡°Done.¡± He announced, standing up. ¡°Let¡¯s get back, and then find something else to do until it¡¯s time for dinner.¡±

    Apparently he had decided she was joining them for dinner. Ferene picked up the shovels and followed after him.

    Once more, Tullund talked, describing his journey south and how he met Ameila. Ferene didn¡¯t pay attention, since it seemed that he would talk regardless. He talked even more than she remembered. He was happier than she remembered, as well. Perhaps those two things were related.

    As they approached the house, both of them stopped, noticing the problem at the same time. The front door was open, leaning at an odd angle, broken. Ferene suddenly realized, once again, that she had no weapons aside from the Hatharen dagger. Tullund didn¡¯t have anything either. All they had were shovels. Ferene held one out to him, and when he took it she dropped the other, pulling out her dagger. She trusted the weapon over the digging tool, regardless of any advantage in range it might offer. Slowly, the two advanced.

    Their attempt at stealth turned out to be useless. Once they got closer, someone walked out the door, yelling at them. ¡°That¡¯s enough!¡± The man wore the same armor Ferene had seen back in the army¡¯s camp, and he pulled Ameila, bound at the wrists, out the door after him, pushing her against the wall. In his other hand he held a sword, and pointed it at the woman¡¯s back.

    ¡°This is going to be very simple. The two of you get on your stomachs and crawl the rest of the way over here, or I very, very slowly start cutting up this girl.¡±

    Tullund immediately dropped his shovel and laid on the ground, but Ferene stayed on her feet, taking another step forward, dagger in hand.

    ¡°I said GET ON THE GROUND!¡± The soldier yelled, raising the sword higher, pushing the tip against Ameila¡¯s shoulder. Ferene stared at him and didn¡¯t stop walking. She saw red stain the girl¡¯s clothes, but kept walking.

    ¡°Ferene, please¡­¡± She heard Tullund¡¯s voice behind her. If he had his bow this would have been easily solved.

    Lowering his sword, the man spun his captive around, pushing her against the railing. Ferene saw her face, her eyes red from sobbing. She was gagged, but the soldier removed that. ¡°Scream. Let her know how much it hurts.¡± He said, shoving his finger against the cut on her back.

    ¡°He killed Garvin!¡± She yelled. ¡°He¡¯ll kill you b-¡° Her warning was cut off as the blade of the soldier¡¯s sword burst from her chest.

    Ferene specialized in running, and she crossed the space between her and the front deck of the house in a matter of seconds, dagger in hand. Letting Ameila¡¯s corpse fall, he leaped to the ground, bloodied sword ready to meet her charge.

    With her momentum and short weapon, Ferene was at his mercy. As the soldier brought his blade up to intercept, Ferene twisted, throwing herself to the side and barely avoiding getting impaled. Her boots slid on the loose dirt as she came to a stop, the man turning to face her.

    Anger took over her. Taradira¡¯s soldiers followed her and killed innocent people. For what? Why send her here? Behind the soldier, she saw Tullund standing up, shovel in hand. He wanted to live in peace as a farmer. She laughed to herself, drawing a strange look from her opponent. If Tullund wanted a life where he didn¡¯t have to kill, Ferene would just do it for him.

    Again, she moved, running in. Predictably, the soldier brought his sword up, trying to stab her before she got in range. Holding her dagger in front of her, Ferene gently pushed the sword to the side, throwing its wielder off-balance. The fight ended shortly after, Ferene thrusting the blade into the man¡¯s eye, penetrating his brain.

    Ameila was dead. Ferene watched Tullund check the body anyway. Wordlessly, he looked inside the house, then back at Ferene. Neither of them needed to talk now. She knew what he saw inside.

    In silence, he entered and came back out carrying the body. Ferene picked up Ameila and followed him. After setting the two down, Tullund retrieved the shovels, handing one to Ferene. They buried them behind the farmhouse.

    ¡°I need you to come back with me.¡±

    Tullund looked up at Ferene from his spot on the deck of the house. After finishing the burial, he sat there silently. Ferene finally decided it was time.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°That man was a soldier. We¡¯re going to go back and figure out why he came here.¡±

    Tullund looked down, then over at the body in the field. They hadn¡¯t buried the attacker. ¡°If he just killed her and left, I¡¯d say it was obvious. But he wanted to kill you, and you killed him. You said the General sent you here?¡±

    Ferene shook her head. ¡°She sent me to someone else, who sent me here. Man called Alref. He told me everything I know about this. I-¡° The thought process felt right, but it also felt odd. ¡°I don¡¯t think the General knew the details.¡± Disagreements. Infighting. Humans were always doing that, weren¡¯t they? Ferene felt herself being pulled into something complex. She wanted to go back there and kill Alref, but she couldn¡¯t do that. Not with an army around him. ¡°I need you to tell them what happened.¡±

    Tullund nodded and stood up. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± It was late in the day, and it would be night by the time they reached the city, at a human¡¯s pace. Tullund started walking anyway. After picking up the dead soldier¡¯s sword, Ferene followed him.

    Compared to the walk to the edge of the farm, Tullund was a different person. Ferene walked slightly behind him, matching his pace. Hours passed without him saying a single word. They were more than halfway to the city, the sun setting, when he finally spoke.

    ¡°It happened again.¡±

    ¡°What happened again?¡±

    ¡°I found peace. I found a place to be. Last time, I had a wife, I said I wouldn¡¯t kill any more. Then people came and killed her. I found you and we killed them. Then I said it again. I¡¯d go back to a peaceful life. I found another place to be. Then someone came and killed them. Now you and I are going to figure out why, maybe kill some more people.¡±

    Ferene couldn¡¯t think of a response to that.

    ¡°Makes me wonder if it¡¯s worth it. It just doesn¡¯t work for me. I try to get away from this and it follows me. Is that why you do what you do? Because you know that if you run away, it will chase after you?¡±

    She thought about that as they walked. Minutes later, she found the answer. ¡°It isn¡¯t chasing you.¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Tullund stopped, turning to look at her. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t chasing you.¡± She came to stop, meeting his eyes. He had been crying. ¡°I went to the edge of the human lands. I found the Hatharen. What do they do? They live basic lives every single day until they go and fight and die in a stupid war. Then they return to their homes and start waiting again. They mourn the ones they lost while they train for the next battle. Death doesn¡¯t follow you, and it doesn¡¯t follow me. It¡¯s everywhere. Trying to run from it is pointless.

    ¡°I used to think that if I killed enough people, it would mean something. I¡¯d make a small difference, or die trying. I didn¡¯t care if I died or not because I was one of those people that made it worse. If I killed a hundred or more scum and then died in a ditch the world would be better off. It won¡¯t. There¡¯s always going to be another horrible person, another thief or killer or slaver, to take the place of whoever I kill. So I can¡¯t stop. I can¡¯t just wait until one of them kills me.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to do what I want to do, answer the questions I want answered. Learn why my mother sold herself to bandits. And while I do that, I¡¯m going to kill any monsters I find. You don¡¯t need to give it all up. The next time you find people, protect them. Because you know how to fight. Don¡¯t become a victim.¡±

    He stared at her as she ranted, and then she looked away. This was just like before. Somehow, he had made her talk. She never spoke that much to anyone else.

    ¡°If you aren¡¯t a killer, you¡¯re a victim. Isn¡¯t that what you said before? Maybe you¡¯re right. Both of the times I stopped, people got hurt. I just need to kill the right people.¡±

    Stepping forward, he put his arm on her shoulder, patting her. He looked like he was about to break into tears again. Ferene nodded to him. The two of them turned and continued walking.

    They were not stopped at the edge of the camp. Rather, they were noticed and left alone. Soldiers turned to watch the two as they walked through, Ferene holding the sword, covered in dried blood, in her hand. They walked all the way to the center, where Taradira¡¯s aide stopped them. This was the same shorter man with the thin beard that met her the previous night. ¡°I need to speak to the General. Now.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not here right now.¡± He said, looking her over, his eyes lingering for a moment on the weapon, then Tullund. ¡°She¡¯s busy training. I can take you there, but we¡¯ll have to wait for her to take a break.¡±

    Ferene nodded, and the man led them into the central area, where the tents spread out. It didn¡¯t take long for them to hear the sounds of sparring, and they were soon greeted with an impressive sight; Taradira, her massive bulk exaggerated further by her black steel armor, swinging her hook-shaped sword at an even more heavily armored, but more normal-sized, opponent. Her target held a standard sword in one hand and a shield in the other, but stayed entirely on the defensive, alternating between shield and sword to block Taradira¡¯s blows.

    The aide had said to wait, but Ferene strode onto the training field, unarmored, and threw the bloodied sword onto the ground between the two combatants as soon as there was an opening. Taradira halted, turning to glare at Ferene, sweat dripping from her brow, her white-gray hair stuck to her face. ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°I talked to the people that Alref told me about. A soldier - one of your soldiers - followed me, killed two of them, and then tried to kill me and the third person there.¡±

    Taradira said something in Hatharen. Oddly, it was the first time Ferene heard her speak the language. Sliding the sword onto her waist, she bent over and picked the weapon up off the ground. ¡°Come with me.¡± She turned before even finishing the command, walking away with her long strides. Ferene trotted after her, Tullund and the aide following.

    ¡°That is a full Hatharen?¡± He whispered to her. Ferene nodded. ¡°Are the men even taller?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s the biggest one I¡¯ve seen.¡± Ferene replied.

    The three of them followed Taradira to a large tent where a guard stepped forward, attempting to say something before the General barked at him to stand aside. Throwing the flap open, Taradira ducked through the entrance, Ferene, Tullund, and her aide right behind. The four of them stood in front of a table where Alref and three others sat, all of them looking upwards at the towering General, who buried the tip of the sword in the wooden table.

    ¡°General.¡± Alref said, starting to stand up.

    ¡°Stay seated. All of you.¡± Taradira barked. Her voice reverberated through the tent, and Ferene felt her spine straighten. The General spoke with confidence and authority.

    ¡°Is there something we can help you with?¡± Alref asked calmly.

    ¡°The problem you were having. With the farm. Tell me the details.¡±

    ¡°One of the properties along the river is owned by the family of a knight. A previous king gave it to the man as a reward for his service. She refuses to return the land despite being offered compensation.¡±

    ¡°And why do we need to take the whole land instead of just buying the part next to the river from her?¡±

    ¡°It is a waste of time to negotiate with these farmers over every square foot of land. Ultimately, it is easier to just buy out entire areas and rent them back. It¡¯s what we did with all the others.¡± Alref replied calmly.

    Taradira turned to Ferene. ¡°And you, as a third party negotiator, were told to acquire the entire property?¡±

    Ferene nodded, then added. ¡°I was instructed, specifically, to get the owner to agree to the deal offered, no more details.¡±

    ¡°Alref.¡± Taradira said, turning back to the man. ¡°You are a warrior. Not a merchant, not a farmer, not a clerk or a scribe. Your job is to do what is best for the army. If the king cared about expenses and bartering, he would have sent professionals. Would he not have?¡±

    ¡°Yes, General.¡±

    ¡°And did you not make the promise, to the king, that despite your misgivings about an outsider being in charge, you would do your best to follow my orders?¡±

    ¡°Yes, General.¡±

    ¡°So why did you send the assistant I gave you on a foolish errand while also ordering one of your men to kill her and multiple of the king¡¯s subjects?¡±

    Alref glared up at Taradira defiantly. ¡°I gave no such order.¡±

    The two held eye contact, neither budging, until one of the other people at the table broke the standoff. ¡°He did, actually!¡± A high-pitched voice said. Both of them turned to the speaker. A young woman sat in one of the four chairs, smiling openly. ¡°I was there when he talked to the soldier. I think he said ¡®Leave the peasants where they can be found, but make the orange bitch disappear.¡¯ Or something like that.¡±

    Ferene could see Alref¡¯s eyes go wide, his expression twisting. ¡°General, this woman-¡°

    ¡°Who is she?¡± Taradira demanded. ¡°You do not have any female soldiers, yet here is one oddly in a uniform. That¡¯s very odd, isn¡¯t it, Captain Alref?¡±

    ¡°Ah-¡°

    ¡°I can answer that as well!¡± The girl said cheerfully. ¡°You made a rule banning soldiers from bringing whores back to camp. Or at least I think it was you. He said ¡®the she-bear¡¯ did it and that¡¯s how he talks about you. I¡¯m his personal property and he didn¡¯t want to be away from me, so he dressed me up as a man and had me stay around.¡±

    Alref lunged for her, springing out of his chair, a dagger suddenly in his hand. Taradira punched him in the face, metal-clad fist connecting with flesh to the sound of bone breaking. ¡°Thoms, detain the other two. You, woman, stand up.¡± She gave orders as she grabbed Alref by the back of his shirt, lifting him up and staring into his broken face. ¡°If I am a bear then you are a rat.¡±

    Captain Alref made a noise back at her, and she pushed him back into his chair. ¡°You stay there.¡± Turning to the girl, Taradira glared. ¡°Are you wearing anything under that uniform?¡±

    In the face of a fully armored Hatharen more than two heads taller than her, the girl giggled. ¡°If you want to know what I¡¯m wearing, you-¡°

    Taradira¡¯s hand shot out, armored fingers wrapping around her neck. ¡°I am the final authority in this camp. If you do not answer my questions promptly and accurately, I will have you executed. Are you wearing any clothes under your uniform?¡±

    Her fingers, tiny by comparison, struggled against Taradira¡¯s wrists. She nodded, and the General let go of her. The girl immediately gasped for air. ¡°Then take it off, as you are not a soldier and have not earned the right to wear it.¡±

    Ferene and Tullund stood silently, watching as the girl unbuttoned the jacket, neatly folding it and placing it on the table, followed by the trousers. She stood in the tent in only her smallclothes, staring up defiantly at Taradira.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Lily.¡±

    ¡°Are you willing to cooperate with me and tell me everything you heard Captain Alref say and saw him do?¡±

    Ferene saw defiance in Lily¡¯s eyes, until she looked over at Alref, his face slowly swelling up, and nodded. ¡°I will.¡±

    ¡°Good. Come with me to my tent, I¡¯ll find you something proper to wear and you can tell me everything. Ferene, you come as well.¡± She paused, turning to look at Tullund. ¡°Who is that?¡± She asked, pointing.

    ¡°He was the third person on the farm. He¡¯s a friend of mine from before. His name is Tullund.¡±

    ¡°The dead wife guy? He can come to.¡± Taradira reached out, placing a hand on Lily¡¯s shoulder and guided her out of the tent, leaving Ferene and Tullund to follow.

    Ferene nodded to Tullund. ¡°I¡¯m going to do what she says.¡± He nodded back, and the two of them left the tent, just as two guards entered, walking towards Alref, who was still sitting at the table, experimentally touching his swollen jaw and eyes.

    Inside Taradira¡¯s tent, she very quickly found what she called ¡®proper¡¯ clothes for Lily, which turned out to be a shirt that nearly came down to the girl¡¯s knees, making her look like a child wearing her parent¡¯s clothes. After removing her armor, the General and Lily sat facing each other on the two chairs while Ferene and Tullund stood off to the side.

    ¡°Why did Alref have you attend all his meetings?¡± Taradira asked calmly once they were all settled. It was clear that she didn¡¯t entirely trust the girl yet. Ferene found herself paying close attention.

    ¡°He considered me one of his advisers. For politics. He¡¯d ask my advice on these things.¡±

    ¡°Why are you knowledgeable about politics? You implied that you are a whore.¡±

    ¡°My mother was a servant in-¡°

    ¡°Were you taught, or did you pick it up from exposure? I do not need to know your entire life¡¯s story.¡±

    ¡°Exposure, ma¡¯am.¡± She slouched after Taradira cut her off, as if she was trying to hide.

    ¡°Would you say you advised him well?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Taradira leaned forward. ¡°And why is that?¡±

    ¡°He did not treat me well. I only advised against the worst plans. I had ideas I didn¡¯t tell him. I wanted him to fail so I could get away.¡±

    ¡°Did you consider simply turning him in?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know who to trust. I didn¡¯t know who would bring me back to him, or where to find you.¡±

    Leaning back, Taradira sighed. ¡°Do you know the full details of his plan with Ferene and the farm?¡±

    Lily looked over to Ferene. ¡°He was purposefully avoiding making a good offer. He wanted it to go badly to make you look incompetent. He sent that soldier there to kill the farmers and your friend and make it look like your friend had killed them and ran off, so that he could blame it all on you for trusting an outsider.¡±

    Ferene could feel Tullund stiffen beside her. ¡°Ameila and Garvin died because of this?¡± He spoke quietly, but his words carried through the tent. Ferene nodded.

    Taradira sighed again, standing up. ¡°This is a tragedy and a failure on my part. I cannot bring back the dead, so I cannot right this wrong.¡± She looked directly at Tullund. ¡°I can make offers of compensation, but that is only how those in power apologize to those who are not. From my understanding of the situation, you may be the one who ends up with that land, if you want it.¡±

    ¡°Piss on that land."

    Taradira nodded. ¡°I can also offer you mon-¡°

    ¡°Let me join your army.¡±

    Ferene turned to look at him. He glared directly at Taradira, his jaw set. She looked back, not quite wide-eyed but with her eyebrows raised in surprise. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°They died because I couldn¡¯t defend them. That¡¯s what you are here for, isn¡¯t it? To defend the land and the people? Horrible job of it so far. I¡¯ll do better. Give me a place here, give me weapons. I¡¯ll defend them.¡± He looked over at Lily. ¡°I want her, too.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Lily spoke up, staring at Tullund.

    Frowning, Taradira said, ¡°I can¡¯t just give you a person.¡±

    ¡°She called herself his property. I want some of the property of the man that ordered the deaths of my friends. No monetary compensation. Just a position in your army, and her.¡±

    Tilting her head, Taradira seemed to consider this. ¡°What will you do with her?¡±

    Tullund looked at Ferene, then at Lily, then back at Taradira. ¡°I want her with me. She gets to teach me about politics, and she stays with me and learns about fighting. How to protect herself. She doesn¡¯t have to be a soldier, only my assistant.¡±

    ¡°If you can pass a competency test, I might be able to make you a lieutenant. You can have her as an assistant. If you can¡¯t, I can give you a lower position, and you can¡¯t have her as an assistant.¡±

    ¡°Do I get to say anything about this?¡± Lily asked, standing up.

    Taradira laughed. ¡°My plan for you was to send you to the castle to scrub pots. You have too much information about this camp to be let free. Do you want to stay here, as the assistant to this man, or become the lowest servant in the castle?¡±

    Lily threw up her hands and sat back down. ¡°Well, I suppose I can finish questioning you later.¡± Taradira announced, turning to Ferene. ¡°I believe that I owe you some information, Ferene.¡±

    ¡°You do.¡±

 Chapter 11: Eastward Journey - 1

    ¡°Thoms!¡± Taradira raised her voice, and immediately her assistant entered the tent, standing at attention. ¡°Take these two and find a tent for them. I have something to discuss with our friend here.¡±

    The man saluted, and nodded to Tullund, who followed him outside, Lily trailing behind. Ferene watched the three of them go until the tent flap fell closed behind them.

    ¡°Now.¡± Taradira said, sitting down with her small book in hand. ¡°Selveren of Treventhal.¡±

    Nodding, Ferene sat down across from the General. She felt a pressure in her chest. Part of her whispered in her ear, telling her to stop Taradira and leave. Telling her that she had gone all this time not knowing, not caring about her father, and learning wouldn¡¯t make anything better. The world was filled with people she could kill to make a difference. The man in the city yesterday and the soldier she had killed earlier today. People like them lived, hurting innocents, and knowing about her past did nothing to change her ability to kill them.

    Yet she knew there was more to life than that. More than death. If she could meet her father, she might understand why her mother did what she did, what happened to put her in this position. Forgive her father, forgive her mother, and forgive herself. Ferene found herself shivering.

    ¡°Tell me.¡± She said, meeting Taradira¡¯s eyes. Pale red, set in brown, framed by gray. Did her father look so different as well?

    ¡°To the southeast, beyond the borders of the kingdom, is a small strip of land, unclaimed by any lord. A small, peaceful village is there, next to a river and hill. They call the village Riverhill, as it¡¯s not important enough to have a creative name. Some sixty or so humans live there, and a single Hatharen. That is Selveren.¡±

    Thinking on it, that seemed wrong. In Ferene¡¯s experience, Hatharen fought. ¡°What does he do there?¡±

    Taradira tapped the page of her book. ¡°Medicine. He is the village¡¯s doctor. I met him once, but we spoke very little, and I have a letter from him telling me that he is still there and will remain so.¡±

    Ferene nodded, but she found herself frowning. Then something else occurred to her. ¡°Do you know where Linara is?¡±

    This was met with a short laugh. ¡°That one goes where she wants. I get letters, sometimes, if she wanders too far from where she last was, or changes her destination. She is still in the independent lands, last I heard.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Ferene nodded again. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°If Selveren is your father, what will you do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll ask him why.¡±

    ¡°¡¯Why¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Why my mother felt the need to give herself and her child to thieves and killers. Why he wasn¡¯t there to help her. Why she needed to die in a dark cave where nobody cared enough to get her medicine.¡±

    Taradira¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°And if you don¡¯t like the answer, will you kill him? Are you prepared to do that?¡±

    Ferene remembered the dream. Screaming her hatred at the shadow of her father. ¡°I¡¯ve wanted to kill him for a long time.¡± She whispered, then spoke louder. ¡°I am.¡±

    There was nothing in Taradira¡¯s expression to tell Ferene if the General heard what she whispered or not. Looking away, then back at her, Ferene suddenly felt hungry. ¡°I haven¡¯t eaten today.¡±

    Taradira stared at her, her mouth opening, then closing, then opening again as she laughed. ¡°Not at all? You truly devote yourself to one thing at a time. I will not hold you any longer.¡± Standing up, the massive Hatharen grabbed something off a table pushed to the side of the tent and tossed it at Ferene. Catching it easily, she found herself holding a small but heavy cloth sack, accompanied by the sound of metal on metal. Money.

    ¡°I¡¯m paying you for your time and trouble. That should be more than enough to cover your journey. Somewhere in the city you¡¯ll find food, even at this hour. It¡¯s far too late for there to be any food in the camp. Meal hours are very specific.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Ferene said, shoving the bag into the pocket of her jacket.

    Moving through the streets, Ferene found it difficult to remember how she ended up near the camp, and instead followed the main road towards the center of the city, her eyes on the massive braziers lighting the top of the castle¡¯s walls. Yesterday, she had walked away from it, and didn¡¯t notice how it stood like a beacon in the night. This time, she made use of it, getting closer and closer until she felt she was at the right distance. It didn¡¯t take her long to find the university, and then follow the path to the inn.

    There were still a few people in the common room this late, groups of two or three fancily-dressed men and women sitting at tables far apart, heads bowed in as they spoke in low tones. Ferene was quickly met by one of the staff, and she mentioned Velan, the room, and her need for food. Very quickly she was brought a plate with two cold leftover rolls from dinner and one whole apple. She ate the small meal quickly and was left unsatisfied, but moved upstairs anyway.

    Trying her best to be quiet, Ferene pushed the door to the room open and stepped inside.

    ¡°Ferene?¡± Velan slowly sat up in the bed, looking at her. She closed the door behind her, putting them both in darkness, only a small bit of light from the city outside leaking through the window. ¡°You came back. I was worried about you.¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡± She apologized, pulling her dagger out of her jacket and putting it on the table before dropping the clothing on the chair. Taking off her boots, she sat down on the oversized, too-soft bed. Velan reached out a hand and she caught it.

    ¡°I looked for you but I couldn¡¯t find you.¡±

    He squeezed her hand. It felt strange. She missed Rilya, but Velan was small, delicate, and soft. There was something alluring about that. ¡°I left the city. Business.¡±

    ¡°Did it go well? He asked.

    The question made her stop. That was something else. Rilya could never ask her that kind of question. She could never respond. Ferene held back tears. ¡°Good people died. I couldn¡¯t save them.¡±

    Velan pulled her down, gently. Ferene could have easily resisted, but she fell, limply, to his side. Her body shook. ¡°You can¡¯t save everyone.¡± He said, wrapping his arms around her.

    She found herself embracing him, pulling him closer, squeezing him like she had the other night. People died because she hadn¡¯t thought everything through. Alref used her. Tullund distracted her, though it was not his fault. Taradira used her as well, but not for anything evil. She shouldn¡¯t have trusted Alref. She should have gotten more information. She shouldn¡¯t have gone with Tullund to fix the stupid fence, should never have left those two alone, should-

    She felt him rubbing her back. ¡°You go one way, save one person, but what about the people you leave behind? You can¡¯t be everywhere, you can¡¯t do everything.¡± He spoke softly. ¡°You have to forgive yourself.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Can I forgive you, then?¡± He shifted, using one arm to throw the blankets over the two of them. His face was right to hers as they lay together. ¡°If you can¡¯t forgive yourself, will you accept forgiveness from others?¡±

    ¡°The dead can¡¯t forgive.¡±

    ¡°Do the living blame you?¡±

    She felt herself shaking. She wanted to sob. She wrapped her arms tighter around him. Tullund didn¡¯t blame her. Taradira didn¡¯t blame her. Did Amelia even blame her? The woman had warned them and that got her killed. She wanted to protect Tullund, and maybe Ferene as well. ¡°No.¡±

    For a time, they spoke no words. Ferene silently cried, holding Velan like a stuffed doll. ¡°When you killed those people who were after me, I was scared of you.¡± He finally said. ¡°I never saw someone die before, and you just¡­you just did that, to them, so fast, like it was nothing. But then you helped me up. I knew you were protecting me. I was still a little scared, and the blood¡­didn¡¯t help. But being near you made me feel safe.¡±

    Swallowing, Ferene nodded, feeling better. She succeeded in protecting Velan. She succeeded in protecting Tullund. The thin man shifted in her embrace, bringing in his face up to hers, pressing his lips against hers, at first hesitantly, then more forcefully when she didn¡¯t pull away.

    ¡°I was worried you wouldn¡¯t come back.¡±

    ¡°I have to leave again.¡±

    Nodding in response, he kissed her again. ¡°I won¡¯t keep you here.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t Rilya, but she found herself wanting his touch. Just holding him wasn¡¯t enough. Rolling over, she pinned him beneath her, pushing herself up to look down at him. He started to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth Ferene leaned down, kissing him, taking the lead herself. She could feel his body underneath hers, weak and delicate. Running her hands down his chest, across his stomach, she didn¡¯t feel muscle underneath. Velan lived a life entirely different to hers, entirely different to Rilya¡¯s.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The next morning, Ferene woke up, finding herself laying beside Velan once again, both of his arms wrapped around one of hers. Slowly, she pulled herself free, standing up and sliding out of bed. He did not stir, even as she turned to look at him, brushing some strands of his long hair out of his face. She felt a desire to kiss him again, but held herself back, instead stepping away from the bed and donning first her clothes, then her armor.

    She did her best to stay quiet as she pulled the straps tight, and Velan slept through it all, his face peaceful. Ferene found herself smiling as she looked at him. She went over her other belongings. The purse of money from Taradira, the bag with the bottle of silver water from Telhrian, the dagger from Rilya, her own greatsword, her short sword, and finally her own knife. Lastly, the jacket, taken from the soldier she killed on the road so far away.

    Taking the bottle of liquid out of the bag, she placed it on the table in the room. With the money from Taradira, she didn¡¯t need to sell it any more. Velan was smart and could figure out what to do with it on his own. Telhrian overestimated her ability by giving it to her to begin with. With that, she collected the rest of her things and slipped out the door.

    It felt good to have her sword on her back again. There was a time that going a full day without it would have been unthinkable, and if she had it yesterday things might have turned out differently, but she felt better being able to leave it behind. She could fight without it. She could exist without it, and something about that felt important. As Ferene tried to find the thoughts to properly express why, she walked down the stairs and out into the street, ignoring the breakfast at the inn. She wanted fresh fruit. Surely there was a market in the city.

    Breakfast ended up being green grapes. The merchant she bought them from said they were white but Ferene was absolutely certain they were green. As she followed a street towards the edge of the city, she picked them off the stem, one by one, and tossed them into her mouth, biting down and enjoying the sweetness.

    At the east gate, she found a very different scene than the west gate she had entered from two days ago. The area immediately inside the wall stood devoid of houses, instead an open field currently filled with wagons, carriages, and carts of all sizes. Men and women walked around the perimeter, some heading into the maze.

    ¡°Nice sword. You know how to use it?¡± Someone asked. Turning, Ferene found a man sitting on a bench not too far from her, dressed in a long brown coat, heavy leather boots visible below it.

    ¡°Yes.¡± She replied, watching him.

    He smiled back at her. ¡°Want a job, then? I¡¯ve got three wagons and only two guards. Figure a might as well make it three and three. You¡¯re here because you¡¯re goin east, ¡®m¡¯I right?¡± Ferene nodded as she stepped towards the man. He stood up, extending a hand. ¡°Name¡¯s Quent. How about yours?¡±

    ¡°Ferene.¡± She shook his hand, getting a better look at his face under the brim of his hat. Stubble covered his jaw, the remains of a full beard recently chopped away. He smiled easily as he strongly gripped her hand.

    ¡°So, how about a business deal, Ferene? How far you lookin to go?¡±

    ¡°East to the border, then south. Looking for a village called Riverhill.¡±

    Releasing her hand, Quent rubbed his chin. ¡°Never heard of a Riverhill, but there¡¯s a lot of small villages out there. Border is a good two weeks away. Can pay you for that if you just keep your eyes out for trouble and your hand on your weapon.¡±

    Reaching over her shoulder, Ferene tapped the hilt of her sword. ¡°I can do that.¡±

    ¡°Give you six triangles a day, plus twenty if any fighting breaks out. Doesn¡¯t sound like much but my crew will be doing cooking and the meals are included. Sound good?¡± Ferene nodded. She¡¯d never worked as a proper guard before, but being with others would be better than being alone, even if it was slower. Any highwaymen that made a move on her watch would be a bonus.

    Quent showed her to his wagons, nestled towards the front of the maze, fairly close to the gate. When it opened and the guards started moving people through, they were fifth in line. Quent had Ferene sit on the first wagon, next to the driver. As they approached the gate, Quent talked to the guards, and one of the armored men stepped forward, looked into the back of the covered wagon, and waved them through. Quent stood next to the other two guards and smiled at Ferene as they passed.

    Two horses pulled each of the wagons, the beasts walking easily down the slope and taking the road to the east. Ferene started the journey alert, but the woman beside her shook her head. ¡°No danger this close¡¯ta¡¯tha capital.¡± Some of her words blended together, the cadence of her words shifting between fast and slow. Ferene nodded and leaned back, placing her sword across her knees.

    The first day, the promised meal turned out to be hard travel bread, handed out without stopping. The wagons rolled on until nightfall, when they finally stopped, the crew tending to the horses. Ferene stood with the other two guards, both of them older, tall men with hard faces and broad shoulders, looking almost like twins. One of them nodded in acknowledgment of Ferene but neither spoke to her.

    The wagon crews did make dinner, then, a pot filled with dried meat and vegetables. Ferene picked through the bowl she was handed, eating potatoes and carrots as she sat alone. The entire process was silent, the wagon crews huddled together on one side of the camp, not speaking to each other but exchanging occasional looks. On another side of the pot, the two hulking guards sat side by side, never taking their eyes off their food. It was a far cry from any of the meals she had back in Yonthal, where the noise of conversation filled the air even if she couldn¡¯t understand it.

    By the time she finished her meal, Ferene felt more alone with the large group than traveling with Velan. She sat down with her back against a tree stump and slowly fell asleep as she watched the others.

    One of the other two guards poked her awake early in the morning, letting her take over the watch. Looking to the east, Ferene watched the sun rise, splashing colors across the clouds. Below, the land spread out, hills rolling away from her, lined by rivers and roads, dotted with the occasional house or small village. Unlike the farm-covered lands west of the capital, the hills to the east were covered in pastures. Sheep, goats and cows cast long shadows in the early light.

    Hearing sounds behind her, she tore her eyes away from it. The group was waking up, six wagon workers and two guards slowly coming to their feet. It didn¡¯t take long for them to be on their way. Ferene found herself sitting on the front wagon once again, sitting next to the same woman as before, the other person assigned to her wagon getting in the back. Slowly, the horses started walking, pulling the wagon down the road.

    It reminded her of traveling with Linara, months ago, riding on the flat wagon of stolen goods. The covered wagon she rode now looked different, but sitting on the front felt the same as back then. Everything that happened to her recently could be traced back to meeting Linara. Without her, Ferene never would have gone north, never would have met Rilya, Telhrian, Tahrean, and the rest.

    ¡°You kill people wit¡¯tha¡¯thing?¡±

    Ferene took a moment to realize what the question was, lost in her own thoughts. ¡°Yeah.¡± She nodded to the driver, who was looking down at the sword across Ferene¡¯s legs.

    ¡°Wha¡¯kinds¡¯a¡¯people?¡±

    ¡°Thieves. Murderers. Kidnappers.¡±

    Nodding, the woman turned back to look at the road, falling silent.

    ¡°I¡¯m Ferene. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Krista.¡±

    Falling silent for a moment, Ferene tried to think of what to say next. ¡°You work for Quent very long?¡±

    Krista nodded. ¡°Years.¡±

    She didn¡¯t look much older than Velan had. Maybe a bit over twenty. ¡°Started young?¡±

    Krista nodded again, but Ferene noticed her jaw tighten, so she fell silent.

    The second day of travel was much like the first. One of the riders handed out travel bread, and Ferene sank her teeth into it as she sat beside Krista. The woman ate her own bread with one hand, the other holding the switch, the reins of the horses wrapped around a wooden post beside her. The two of them had little conversation after their brief chat in the morning.

    Following the road took them up and down some of the gentler hills, curving to the side only a few times to avoid particularly steep inclines. They ended the day in a low valley, setting up camp once again. Ferene stood with the other two guards as they watched the wagon crews tend to the animals and their vehicles, then start cooking.

    Before Ferene could step forward to get a bowl of the night¡¯s soup, Krista handed her one. Quick inspection showed it was filled only with vegetables. Ferene nodded her thanks, and retreated to sit alone, only to notice the other woman following her. Sitting down, she waited as Krista did the same, but when nothing was said, started eating.

    ¡°Quent¡­he tell you ¡®bout¡¯tha¡¯job?¡± She finally spoke up when Ferene was halfway done with her meal.

    ¡°Keep my eyes out for trouble until we reach the border. Then I¡¯m free to head south.¡±

    Krista frowned, then nodded, finally taking her first spoonful of her own bowl of soup.

    The two ate together in silence, returning their empty bowls to the cook - another one of the wagon drivers - and Krista slid underneath her wagon to sleep. Looking around, Ferene saw that none of the others followed suit. The drivers and riders had their blankets set out on the open ground. Only Krista took cover underneath the vehicle. Shrugging, Ferene went and found a tree to lean against.

    Over the next two days, Ferene continued that routine. Krista occasionally asked her a question or two, but mostly stayed silent, though the two ate dinner side by side. Something about the young woman bothered Ferene, but she couldn¡¯t quite figure out what it was. There was a shyness about her.

    At the end of the fifth day, they stopped at a flat, open area, where two streams met and formed a small lake. It was still early, but one of the wagon drivers called for the stop. All nine members of the caravan - Ferene, the other two guards, and the two people in each wagon - all got off and gathered around.

    ¡°We¡¯re making a better pace than usual, on account of not stopping for lunch.¡± The gruff man said, smiling under his graying beard. ¡°However, I¡¯ve noticed you all stink, which is to be expected. So we¡¯re going to take turns washing up, since we have a chance for it here. Lucky for us our numbers happen to work out so we can all take turns while staying safe.¡± He gave a chuckle. ¡°Garth, Jona, and Vinny will go first, then the women, then the rest of the men.¡±

    Everyone nodded. The man from the back of Ferene¡¯s wagon, one of the other drivers, and one of the two guards all walked downstream, while another wagon rider - the older woman that made the soup and handed out the bread - walked over to join Krista and Ferene where they stood.

    The first group of three men came back, and the three women left to wash in the stream behind a large outcropping of bushes. Ferene pulled off her armor and submerged herself in the running water, with the older woman following suit. Krista stared at the two of them awkwardly.

    ¡°Take off your clothes and get in the water, girl.¡± The older woman said harshly, and Krista quickly responded, pulling off her shirt and revealing a complicated web of scars underneath, starting from the lower right of her cage and radiating across her chest. As she finished disrobing and slid into the water, she looked away from Ferene.

    Not long after the three of them entered the water, they heard shouts from the direction of the rest of the group. Ferene pulled herself out of the water, quickly pulled on her trousers and grabbed her sword, and started running. Rounding the bushes, she came into view of the rest of the group, finding the four men of the wagon crews standing, surrounded by four other people holding weapons. One of the two guards was face down on the ground, blood staining the grass around him, and the other knelt, a fifth new figure standing over him.

    Ferene specialized in running, but the situation looked bad, so she stayed put, her sword in her hand, water dripping off her half naked body. Several of the people turned to stare at her. Her mind raced. Five of them, armed, close to unarmed people. If she moved, they could easily kill the wagon crew and the remaining guard. Just like how Ameila died. She had no armor, or even clothes, all of that back by the side of the river, with two more of the people she needed to protect. All of it-

    ¡°Is that Ferene?¡±

    The question cut through her thoughts. She turned to look at the speaker, the one standing over the kneeling guard. A woman in red plate armor, a short axe in her hand, with another hanging from her belt.

    ¡°Lana?¡±

 Chapter 11: Eastward Journey - 2

    Her memory filled in the other details. The other four people were the rest of Lana¡¯s group of bounty hunters.

    If they were here, then Ferene was on the wrong side of something.

    ¡°Wait here.¡± She said, turning around, ignoring the shocked people behind her. Going back to the stream, Ferene found the two women getting dressed, looking up at her in concern.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± The older of the two asked, looking at her sharply. Ferene ignored her, pulling on her shirt and jacket. ¡°What was that yelling about?¡±

    Ferene responded to the further questioning by pointing her sword at the woman, the tip hovering not far from her face. ¡°Don¡¯t talk. Start walking.¡±

    Ferene trusted Lana. She did not trust the wagon crews. Krista quickly followed the orders, while the other glared up at her for a second before following suit.

    ¡°Slavers.¡±

    The words made Ferene¡¯s body tense up.

    Seven people - the six people of the wagon crews and the one surviving guard, sat with their hands and feet tied. Lana frowned as she looked over the group. ¡°This group buys goods in the capital, then heads east. Just past the border, they meet up with another group moving north and switch wagons. Those wagons are full of slaves. Three wagons, four slaves in each, chained and caged. They continue moving east, and the original group keeps going north. Follow the north road and you find no evidence of the slaves you were looking for, it¡¯s that group of merchants with three wagons full of common goods. They always had those goods, and the papers they signed back south proving the purchase, too.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your plan?¡± Ferene asked, taking a deep breath to keep herself under control. They were right in front of her, killing them would be so easy.

    Lana smiled, raising her voice, loud enough for the captives to hear. ¡°The plan is to kill this group and take their place.¡± She said loudly. The result of her was instant. Five of them all tried to stand, tumbling over as they cried, begged, and desperately reasoned with her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t kill me, I¡¯ll help!¡±

    ¡°They are looking for us, you need at least one of us alive or else they won¡¯t meet with you! Spare me!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever you want, as long as you let me live!¡±

    Smiling, Lana looked at Ferene as Rauld yanked on the ropes, causing the slavers to fall face-down in the dirt, struggling to push themselves back to their knees. ¡°What do you think, Ferene?¡±

    She pointed at Krista, who now lay on her side, pulled over by the movement of the others she was roped to. ¡°That one is a slave.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Lana blinked.

    Ferene nodded. ¡°She¡¯s marked. I¡¯ve seen that kind of mark before. Different from what I remember, but¡­she¡¯s marked as a worker. Someone cut up her body so she wouldn¡¯t be sold as a whore.¡±

    She watched as Lana¡¯s expression turned sour. ¡°A slave working the slave wagon?¡±

    ¡°Ask her. She¡¯ll talk.¡±

    Lana made a hand sign and pointed at Krista. Yelt stepped into the line of prisoners and cut her loose, hauling the girl up by her arm and leading her over to Lana. Ferene could see how skinny she was now. She didn¡¯t pay attention to it before.

    ¡°Ferene says you¡¯re a slave.¡± Lana asked. Krista looked from her to Ferene, then nodded. ¡°How¡¯d that happen?¡±

    ¡°Momma sold me. Needed¡¯tha¡¯money. For my older brother. Couldn¡¯t feed two.¡±

    Ferene stared down at her. ¡°These people are slavers themselves, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    Krista nodded again. ¡°They said I hav¡¯a¡¯good face. Ride in¡¯tha¡¯front.¡±

    ¡°Will you help us?¡± Krista nodded once more in response to Lana¡¯s question. ¡°Kill the rest.¡± She said, raising her voice. Yelt and Rauld drew their knives. The five slavers and the guard started panicking, crawling on the ground, trying to get away. Ferene watched as the two men killed them, one by one, with no ceremony.

    ¡°I hate that part.¡± Rauld said at the end, the large man¡¯s arms covered in blood.

    Krista stared at the pile of bodies, her eyes wide. Ferene put a hand on her shoulder.

    ¡°Did they hurt you?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Memories flooded Ferene, and her lips drew into a line. Her words failed her. She didn¡¯t know how to communicate her thoughts. Instead, she just held on to the younger woman¡¯s shoulder as the two watched the dead bodies stain the dirt red.

    On the sixth day, Ferene once sat next to Krista on the front seat of the first wagon. Rauld and Yelt sat on the middle one, with Tessa and Bolen riding the last one. Lana herself was sitting in the back of Ferene¡¯s wagon, out of sight.

    ¡°Who cut your chest?¡± Ferene asked.

    Krista glanced at her sharply, then away. ¡°Momma. Didn¡¯wan¡¯me bein¡¯ a whore.¡±

    Frowning, Ferene nodded. She¡¯d seen another girl with that kind of scar, once, as a child. ¡°How¡¯s that work out?¡± Lana¡¯s voice came from behind them.

    ¡°Family, or owner, cuts up a girl¡¯s body. Leaves scars. Supposed to keep them out of certain types of work. Doesn¡¯t always.¡± Ferene remembered the other girl at the camp, passed around from man to man before they sold her off. ¡°Some people don¡¯t care about that.¡±

    ¡°Just crazy, then.¡±

    ¡°Just evil. All of them.¡± Ferene corrected her. She looked over at Krista again, the girl hunched over, staring intently ahead. ¡°Did you hate them?¡±

    ¡°Ya.¡± Ferene could barely hear the whispered response.

    ¡°Could you have killed them? In their sleep?¡±

    The young woman hunched over more. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°Did you think about it?¡±

    ¡°Ya.¡± Another weak whisper.

    ¡°Why not do it?¡± Ferene felt a tightness in her chest. Sitting still, she could feel her heart beating faster, the muscles in her arms tensing. Krista didn¡¯t answer, so she asked again. ¡°Why not kill them? The people who hurt you? The slavers?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯was¡¯scared!¡± The shout was sudden. ¡°I¡¯dun¡¯no¡¯what¡¯to¡¯do¡¯on¡¯my¡¯own!¡± She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Ferene let out a deep breath. Slowly, she reached out, placing a hand on Krista¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Lana, can you help her? After this?¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s it got to be me? Can¡¯t you do it?¡± The voice came from the covered wagon bed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how, and I¡¯m in the middle of something. Was only with this group for a ride.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll figure something out.¡±

    Breathing out, Ferene relaxed. For a moment, she could almost hear Linara¡¯s laughter. Was Krista evil? Did going along with those people make her evil? Did working with Lana excuse that? Should Ferene kill her now, or when all of this was over? Difficult questions. Ferene didn¡¯t like thinking about them. She watched the road ahead.

    Despite the change in ownership, Ferene¡¯s day to day life on the road changed little. Lana¡¯s crew broke for dinner and made use of the supplies in the wagons to cook the same soup as the original crew. The seven of them sat in a circle and ate together, Krista remaining silent as the bounty hunters talked among each other.

    They questioned Ferene, briefly, about what happened to her. She mentioned going north and finding the Hatharen, but little beyond that. No tales of the monsters beyond the mountain wall, no stories of life in the stronghold. When it became clear she would not speak of the secrets of her father¡¯s people, the questions shifted to how she got back. She told them about meeting the General, the information gained, and her current goal.

    ¡°What are you going to do when you find him?¡± Lana asked. ¡°Give him a hug or break his face?¡±

    Ferene could only shrug. That was another difficult question. ¡°How far until the border?¡± She asked, changing the topic.

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    ¡°We¡¯ll pass it tomorrow, and the next day we have to meet the other team. Three wagons, filled with an unknown number of slaves. We kill the guards, hook the wagons together in a train, and run it back down to Elgrid. You can go on your own way then.¡± Ferene nodded in response, belatedly realizing that Lana couldn¡¯t see her. The other woman talked on regardless. ¡°If we are lucky, people looking for the missing individuals won¡¯t be too far behind and we can pass the whole thing off and be done with this job. We started this not long after that mine, finding out what was happening and the schedule took a lot of time.¡±

    Ferene opened her mouth, closed it, then made a small sound of recognition. She never thought that she would be helping people ambush wagons on the road again. She almost said that to Lana, but couldn¡¯t bring herself to do it. These people likely had similar pasts, to end up in this profession, but something held her back.

    ¡°How did you find out?¡± She asked instead.

    A laugh came from behind her. ¡°Elgrid¡¯s been having kidnappings for years. Big city, so people go missing. By the time anyone knows what happened, there¡¯s not much of a trail to follow. If anyone connects the missing people to the caravan, they have documents showing them leaving, and by the time they catch up with them, the slaves are gone and the proper goods are in place. Wagons even arrive at their listed destination with the wares. No trail in the records, no trail if you go and chase after them.

    ¡°Independent investigators, such as my group, go further. We found that around the same times that groups of people all vanished, there would be another caravan, of similar size, departing from Ettsgras. Happens to have the same cargo, and is heading to the Independent lands, with no specified destination to check on. So we started looking for the right size of caravan heading east from Ettsgras.¡±

    ¡°You just got lucky enough to find the one operated by the slavers?¡±

    Another laugh. ¡°You weren¡¯t there when we walked into the rest area. The guards attacked us without even asking. That¡¯s not something regular people do.¡±

    Casting a glance at Krista, Ferene nodded. ¡°It isn¡¯t.¡±

    Two days later, Ferene tried her best to look natural. She didn¡¯t have to do anything different than what she had been doing since she left the city, but somehow, knowing there was a deception in play made her second guess herself. Krista sat beside her, the girl¡¯s ankles tied together, out of sight, as she guided the horses forward, pulling the wagon towards the other caravan. Three guards hopped off the wagons on the road ahead, stepping forward as they waved casually at Ferene. She wanted to jump down herself and race towards them, swinging her sword. But she waited as they rolled closer.

    ¡°Hey runt!¡± One of the men called out, looking at Krista. The other two laughed. ¡°You finally find someone as ugly as you? What¡¯s your name, girl?¡± He turned his attention to Ferene. She ignored him. Krista brought the horses to a stop, and the men came within a few paces of Ferene. ¡°No, really, what¡¯s your name? If you don¡¯t tell me we¡¯ll just ¡®ave to give you one. Something to describe how ugly you are.¡± The other two guards laughed as they walked passed, moving towards the second wagon. Ferene looked ahead. The driver at the front of the other caravan stood up, and stepped down. She felt herself tense up. The second one stood up and did the same. Ferene also stood up, one hand loosely gripping the hilt of her sword.

    When the third driver stepped off the wagon, eager to make the switch and get moving, Ferene immediately took action. The guard that hadn¡¯t moved past her, the one who had been asking her for her name, was stretching out a hand to help her down when she cut off his head. Krista screamed as blood sprayed over the two of them.

    That scream snapped everyone else into motion. Jumping, Ferene hit the ground and ran forward, past the panicking horses. According to the plan, her job was to stop the wagons from getting away. Ferene specialized in running, and closed the gap as the other drivers were still frozen in shock. Slashing the man from the front wagon across the chest, she spun towards the next one in line. He pulled a short sword out from his belt, but she cut off the hand holding it before he could even get into a fighting stance. Once more, she was overtaken by a rush of emotions. These people were nothing compared to her. She fought Hatharen, she fought trained soldiers. Common thugs stood no chance. The third driver started to scramble into the seat of the wagon, one hand grabbing the leads to the horses. Ferene stabbed him in the back, then pushed the brake lever back into place. The horses scrambled against the wheels, dragging the wagon a few paces even with the wheels locked in place, before stopping. Silence fell over the crossroads, only broken by the sobbing of the man holding his severed wrist.

    ¡°Someone shut that one up!¡± Lana yelled. Ferene turned to look back, and saw her, axes blooded, as she advanced, Rauld and Bolen walking next to her. They had taken out the other two guards without any losses, just as before.

    ¡°No.¡± Ferene said. ¡°I want him alive, for now.¡±

    ¡°Then make him shut up.¡± Lana said, grabbing the canvas covering on the second wagon in the line and pulling it back.

    The bed of the wagon was not a wooden box, but a metal cage, wide, flat bars arching upwards. Four men sat, naked except for the bindings on their hands and the gags in their mouths, looking outward in fear. Rauld pulled back the covering of the first wagon, revealing another four men, and Bolen did the last, showing three women, all of them in similar states. ¡°Get these people out, and find them something to wear.¡± Lana ordered.

    The sight of the people, bent over and bruised in their cages, fueled Ferene¡¯s rage as she turned away from it. With one hand, she grabbed the collar of the only man still living, dragging him back towards the other wagons.

    Towards Krista.

    The young woman sat, splattered in blood, her arms wrapped around herself as she shook slightly. Ferene dropped the whimpering man on the ground, then pulled her short sword from her belt. Stepping up, she cut the ties on Krista¡¯s ankles. With the fighting over, there was no worry about her making a run for it.

    ¡°Get down.¡± Ferene said, her voice harsh. Still shaking, Krista complied, stepping onto the ground to have Ferene immediately shove the sword into her hands. ¡°Kill him.¡± She said, pointing towards the man holding his bleeding wrist, his eyes squeezed shut.

    ¡°Uh¡­I-¡°

    ¡°He¡¯s a slaver. He hurts people. He is evil. You worked with him. Are you evil, too? Or will you kill an evil man?¡±

    Holding Ferene¡¯s weapon with shaking hands, Krista looked down at the man, then up at Ferene. ¡°I¡¯dun¡¯wan¡¯ta-¡°

    ¡°Do you hate him? Do you hate evil people?¡± She pointed at the other wagons, where Lana¡¯s group were releasing the slaves. ¡°You were helping make this happen. Do you regret that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯was¡¯scared!¡± Krista fell to her knees, sobbing.

    ¡°Do you want him to live? Do you want more people to get hurt?¡±

    ¡°Please¡¯dun¡¯hurt¡¯me¡¯please¡¯dun¡¯hurt¡¯me¡¯please¡¯dun¡¯hurt¡¯me!¡± Krista rocked back and forth, repeating the same words over and over between her sobs.

    Ferene breathed out, feeling some - just some - of the tension leave her body. She knelt down next to Krista, taking the sword out of her hands. ¡°Good.¡± Ferene whispered, before turning towards the man. He finally opened his eyes, meeting hers. She slit his throat before he could start to beg.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you do that, with the girl?¡± Lana asked.

    Ferene let out a deep breath. The former slaves were dressed in some of the spare clothes they found in the first set of wagons, huddled around Bolen and the cooking pot.

    ¡°I needed to know what kind of person she was,¡± Ferene responded. ¡°I didn¡¯t threaten her, but if she was evil, she would have killed him without a second thought, just to live longer. She¡­isn¡¯t like me. Isn¡¯t like us.¡± Ferene met Lana¡¯s eyes. ¡°Can you find a safe place for her?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re really going to leave right away?¡± When Ferene nodded, Lana sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll take her somewhere better than Elgrid, better than Ettsgras. Seems like it means a lot to you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Ferene turned to look south. The main road would lead to Elgrid. ¡°Do you know how far we are from Riverhill?¡±

    ¡°Never heard of that. Might ask the locals, one of them might know.¡± Lana nodded towards the freed slaves.

    Eleven people, sitting in a circle, dressed in clothes borrowed from dead men. Ferene wasn¡¯t any better, still wearing the slightly too small jacket of the soldier from Olentor. Stepping towards them, she looked over the group. None of them were facing her, all of them focused on Bolen as he cooked.

    ¡°Do any of you know where a village called Riverhill is?¡± Ferene raised her voice to ask them all at once. She didn¡¯t like speaking like this. All of their eyes instantly focused on her, fear filling the air with silence. To them, she was the one that killed an unarmed man, not the one that unlocked their cages and gave them food.

    When no answers came, Bolen tapped his wooden ladle against the side of the cook pot. ¡°Ferene here was just traveling the road and decided to help us free you. She¡¯s never been this far south before.¡± The remark was answered by some muttering and whispering. Even after being free, the men had split into two groups, and the three women sat on their own to a third side. They clung to the people they knew.

    ¡°I know Riverhill.¡± A man raised his hand. Ferene looked over at him, his bald head shining in the afternoon light despite his youthful face. ¡°Closer than Elgrid, just further east. If you go¡¯in that direction you¡¯ll find the river, follow it south and you¡¯ll find the hill. Town¡¯s on the side¡¯o¡¯the hill. Shouldn¡¯t be more¡¯n two days on foot.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Ferene nodded to him, and turned away. Before she could leave the clearing, however, she heard light footsteps behind her. Turning around, she found Krista standing there, still shaking slightly, staying several strides away. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I-I thought you were¡¯gonna¡¯kill¡¯me.¡± She stuttered at first, then the words tumbled out of her. The girl looked to be on the edge of tears again.

    ¡°I thought I might have to,¡± Ferene responded.

    Krista nodded. ¡°They¡­they didn¡¯t treat¡¯me¡¯that¡¯bad. Not worse¡¯than¡¯the slaves. A lot better. Not good, but, they¡¯never¡¯urt¡¯me. Never cut me.¡±

    ¡°They treated you better than your family did.¡± Ferene said for her. She nodded. Ferene swallowed, feeling tension start to rise. Anger. ¡°I only knew my mother. She didn¡¯t treat me well, but she did what she could. She sold both of us away.¡± Ferene sat down on the grass by the side of the road. ¡°I was raised by bad people. Evil people. They didn¡¯t hurt me, not that much. Not the way they hurt and killed others. Treated me better than their victims. Same as you.¡± The girl nodded again. She looked a lot younger now, barely an adult. Ferene would have guessed she was seventeen or more before, but now she looked barely fourteen.

    ¡°My mother died, but I was still with them. I thought they were my family. I hated them, but I thought I was supposed to. Someone convinced me to kill them and run away.¡± Ferene tried a smile. She wasn¡¯t sure how good it was, but Krista didn¡¯t smile back. ¡°I later met a real family. Not anyone related to me, but people I could trust. People that treated me well. People who looked out for me, who cared about me. I couldn¡¯t even talk to half of them, but they were more of a family than anyone else. You¡¯ll find that. Forget about those people. You don¡¯t need to feel bad for them. They wouldn¡¯t feel bad for you if you died, would they?¡±

    That got a strong, almost violent head shake out of her. Ferene kept going. ¡°The town I¡¯m going to, my father is supposed to be there. I never met him, but I know he isn¡¯t my family. My family are the ones that care about me.¡±

    ¡°Why go there?¡±

    ¡°Because I might have to kill him.¡± Ferene said. ¡°Maybe he did something to my mother, and made her sell herself and me. Maybe he didn¡¯t. I want to know. I have to go there. Lana will find a place where you will be safe, so stay with her.¡±

    Krista nodded. ¡°Good bye.¡± She said, turning and running back to the others.

    Letting out a deep breath, Ferene pushed herself to her feet and turned east once more.

    Two days of walking would have been a generous estimate, even for a human. Ferene found the river after a few hours of running, and turned to follow it south as the sun was setting. Trotting steadily along the side of the waterway, she eventually came upon the hill. The river snaked around it, but Ferene just walked up the gradual slope, her boots digging into the soft grass.

    As the sun rose, lighting up the area, she found it calm and peaceful, almost idyllic. Frowning, Ferene remembered the farm to the west. At the top of the hill, she looked down and saw the village of Riverhill, a collection of wooden structures built into the even more gently sloped side of the hide, leading down to the river. One building stood apart, much further down, at the flat at the bottom of the hill, right next to the river, surrounded by all sorts of bushes. It was too far to make out the details, but something about it seemed to call out to her. A Hatharen living alone in a human village would be there, separate from the rest of them. Her entire body locked up as she stared downward, suddenly unable to move.

 Chapter 12 - Unwanted Answers

    Minutes crept by, perhaps an entire hour, as Ferene stood, her eyes locked on the sight below her. The single house at the very bottom of the hill, set apart from the town. She needed to go there, but something held her back. Something told her to turn around and walk away. She could find Lana and the others, help them with whatever they were doing next. Go back to Taradira and become a soldier, become stronger. Find Linara, wherever she is, and thank her for everything, properly. She could run back north, beg to be let back into the stronghold, just to see Rilya again. She could do a number of things other than go and find out who her father truly was.

    In the end, she needed to know. Her mother was long dead, but the idea of her father being alive, being just down that hill, and having answers to so many questions drew her forward. She took one step, then another, and found herself slowly but steadily walking through the village. Some people were out already, in the dawn, staring at her. Ferene kept walking, her eyes still focused entirely on her goal.

    Passing the houses, she walked directly through the long, uneven grass until she was just outside the house, a few steps away from the wooden wall. Flowers surrounded it, some in the ground and others in boxes mounted to the outside of the walls. She stopped, taking in all the colors. It was warm and inviting, and she felt the fear and tension slip away. Letting out a breath she didn¡¯t even know she was holding, Ferene approached the door, not knocking but just pushing it open and stepping inside.

    Open shelves lined nearly every wall, with tables filling the gaps. Plants were everywhere, potted plants, what looked to be dried flowers and grasses sealed inside glass jars, trays of dirt with green sprouts reaching upwards, trays of various plants laying on their side as if for inspection. It was unlike any house Ferene had ever seen. In one corner sat a Hatharen, his ears sticking out from his yellow hair. He hunched over one of the many tables, holding a small knife in one hand and cutting a small object Ferene could not see. Ferene noted that he did not look like other Hatharen - his arms were thin, his shoulders narrow. He did not look like a warrior.

    ¡°Good, you¡¯re here early. Extra work today. Grab a tray and get started.¡± He said, startling her. He didn¡¯t look up from his work, his head towards the table, his back towards her. Ferene stood still, staring at him curiously. After several seconds, he stopped moving, then turned to glance at her. ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked first, then his eyes opened wider, having realized she wasn¡¯t human. ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    Not fear, not anger, but something else seized Ferene. A feeling, an emotion she couldn¡¯t recognize. All the questions she wanted to ask him twisted around each other, fighting to be the first one spoken, the first one answered. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

    ¡°Selveren?¡± The name slid out of her, quietly.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m Selveren.¡± He replied, looking at her expectantly.

    ¡°You¡¯re my father.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. Something inside her told her that this man in front of her was her father. She didn¡¯t know why, didn¡¯t know how. She just knew.

    Selveren frowned at her. ¡°You aren¡¯t Tilhana.¡±

    Something inside her snapped. Words poured out of her. ¡°My name is Ferene, my mother was a human, her name was Alyssa. She sold herself, and me, to a group of outlaws. I was raised by them, until I killed their leader and ran away. I never met another Hatharen until several months ago. I went to Yonthal, I met people from Treventhal. They told me about you. I went to Taradira, in Etsgras. She told me where to find you. You¡¯re the only one who could be my father. I came here to find you. To find out why my mother had to do what she did.¡± She drew her short sword and pointed it at him, glaring at him through tears. ¡°I need to know why she lived with men that hurt her. Why she had to die sick and surrounded by scum. Why I can¡¯t understand your language, since nobody was there to teach it to me.¡± Her hand shook and tears stained her face.

    Selveren placed the small knife he was holding on the table behind him, and crossed his hands in his lap. He was perfectly calm as he looked up at her. ¡°You said your name was Ferene?¡±

    She nodded. He stood up, walking across the room even as she kept the tip of her sword pointed at him. He picked up a jar that held a dried, sharp-looking orange flower. Ferene recognized it. The plant that Telhrian had given her, back in Yonthal, looked just like it, except that one had been white. Selveren turned towards her and smiled oddly. His mouth moved like it was an unfamiliar action. ¡°Hatharen call this flower ferene. Humans call it the bird of paradise. Alyssa loved them.¡± Holding the jar, he walked back to his chair and sat down.

    Her hand holding her sword wavered slightly. Even as she threatened him, he seemed to be unaware of it. ¡°Why weren¡¯t you there for her? Why weren¡¯t you there for me?¡±

    Even as she put emphasis on the questions, the accusations, nearly shouting, he simply shrugged, his eyebrows raised slightly. ¡°I didn¡¯t know. She was here to help me and learn, as an assistant, part of my deal with the people of Riverhill. One day she vanished. I asked her parents, and they thought that I would know. We concluded that she ran away. I didn¡¯t know why, but maybe it was because of you.¡±

    Swallowing, Ferene waited, taking three deep breaths to calm herself. The anger was there again, threatening to spill over. She felt like she was on the edge of losing control, of attacking him, stabbing him again and again for his complete non-answers to her questions. ¡°Why would I cause her to run away?¡±

    Selveren turned his back on her, leaning over his desk again, taking his knife to one of the small, round objects and splitting it open. ¡°That girl never properly understood me. She was afraid of her own failures, certain I would punish her for them, or send her away. I don¡¯t know why, since I never did. If she viewed a child as something I wouldn¡¯t want, she would have been afraid to reveal it to me. I say this in hindsight. Not something I would have considered at the time. Recorded information on interspecies breeding is lacking, and this being one of the outcomes of my failed experiment was not on my mind. I was trying to fix it. Her vanishing was an inconvenience at the time, set me back several days. Not that it mattered in the long term, since I failed to achieve my goal and her staying wouldn¡¯t have changed that. It simply isn¡¯t possible.¡±

    Ferene screamed, throwing her weapon against the wall. The blade struck the surface sideways, falling to the floor. Selveren turned around to look at her, still only curious rather than alarmed. ¡°You¡­you sound like you care more about your experiment than the mother of your child.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± He said, nodding. ¡°I¡¯m trying to save my entire people. I did not have time for distractions.¡±

    ¡°You had sex with my mother.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± He nodded again.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Ferene pushed down the urge to attack him again. She clenched her fists at her sides. ¡°Why did you do that?¡±

    ¡°I managed to activate my own breeding cycle. I thought it was a breakthrough, at the time. I asked Alyssa if she wanted to celebrate with me. She did.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°Well, the day after I realized that what I had done was create a mixture that replicated the effect that the females have on males, which is useless for procreation between Hatharen. I needed to be able to activate the female¡¯s breeding cycle, whi-¡±

    ¡°My mother. What happened to Alyssa?¡±

    ¡°She continued helping me for the next few weeks before she vanished.¡±

    Ferene simply stared at him. Thoughts of him had haunted her, on and off, her entire life. Sadness, hatred, bitterness. She wondered if he would be apologetic, begging her for forgiveness, or angry, blaming her or hating her for who she was or what she had done. Instead, he just¡­didn¡¯t even dismiss her. He just didn¡¯t seem to care. ¡°I¡¯m your daughter.¡± She said, weakly. The anger had built up to the peak, but broke. She suddenly lost the energy to be mad at him. Selveren didn¡¯t even seem to think of her at all, even as she stood directly in front of him.

    ¡°I learned after my daughter was born that I¡¯m a terrible father. It¡¯s not something I have an interest in.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°In Treventhal, you have a sister. A half-sister, to be more accurate. Tilhana.¡± A memory floated through Ferene¡¯s mind. A Hatharen approaching her, inspecting her, and turning away without a word. Yellow hair and dark green eyes. Just like Selveren¡¯s. She clenched her jaw tightly. She was an outsider to her own people to the point where she had met her blood family, and been rejected. ¡°Ah, your grandparents¡­should still be alive, I believe. Alyssa¡¯s parents, I mean. Here in the town. If you want to talk to them.¡±

    ¡°Why would I want to talk to them?¡±

    ¡°Well, they are your grandparents.¡±

    ¡°You are my father.¡±

    He frowned at her. ¡°Yes, but¡­¡±

    ¡°I think I met your daughter. My sister. Briefly. She looked at me and then left. It was after a battle north of the mountains. I don¡¯t thi-¡°

    ¡°You fought north of the mountains?¡± He shouted, suddenly standing up, his face right next to hers, his hands on her shoulders.

    ¡°Y-yes.¡± Ferene flinched back, her arm going limp.

    Selveren let go of her, stepping back. ¡°The beasts! You fought the beasts? You weren¡¯t paralyzed? Tell me!¡±

    ¡°They made me sick. I vomited after. A lot. When I look at them, I feel ill. I don¡¯t know how long I can fight them for, but I killed a Direag once, and-¡°

    ¡°You killed a Direag?¡± He was smiling at her, his face shining with some emotion. ¡°A hybrid killed a Direag. Amazing! Tell me about that. All the details.¡±

    Ferene recalled the story of her fight with the wounded creature. Seeing it at a distance, the inexplicable feeling of unease she felt. Knowing that it was already injured did little to dampen Selveren¡¯s enthusiasm. Now, he was interested in her. His questions went further. He wanted to know every detail of both of her encounters with the beasts, and she did her best to answer his questions.

    ¡°So even close proximity to the dead bodies causes sickness? Or was it a lingering effect from when you were close to the living ones?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    He held a small book in one hand, and a pen in the other. Taking notes. His attention was entirely focused on her now. No longer disinterested. Her father was hanging on her every word.

    ¡°I was banished from the stronghold in the end. Because I can¡¯t have children.¡±

    Selveren¡¯s expression turned hard. Anger. ¡°Idiots! You are part of the solution! Humans are part of the solution! We need humans in the strongholds. To buy time. They don¡¯t need to fight, just be there. Doctors, farmers. Make more space for the Hatharen. And make hybrids. Hybrids can fight. You proved that! There¡¯s too much pride. Old ways, closed minds. You¡¯re just as strong as any fighter. If fewer Hatharen die, the numbers can stabilize. Our people could be saved. You are proof of that!¡±

    Ferene once more felt a swirl of emotions. Selveren¡¯s focus on her, pride over her was all because he saw her as a solution to a problem. But she remembered Tahrean¡¯s tale of the history of the Hatharen, and she remembered her family, and how they were forced together simply for the purpose of being able to have children, and her inability to fit with that was the reason she needed to leave. Selveren didn¡¯t care about her aside from wanting her to change that, yet changing that almost seemed like enough.

    He was obsessed and only cared about how she fit into his obsession.

    With a sign of resignation, she slid her sword back into the sheath on her belt. Her father was not evil. He did not mean any harm to her or her mother. He was just¡­strange. She couldn¡¯t hate him, instead suddenly finding herself disinterested in him.

    It was, in the end, disappointing. The answers she got were simple. Her mother ran away from Selveren. It was her mother being foolish that resulted in her life being the way it was. There was nothing Selveren could have done to change that.

    She answered more of his questions, and then left the house. Wandering around the outside, she found the plant with the flowers her mother had named her after. The thin, pointed petals almost matched the color of her hair. If her mother had just stayed here, where these flowers she loved were, what kind of person would Ferene be today?

    Another deep breath. What was left, now? For a moment she considered finding her grandparents, but decided against it. She came here for answers about her father, and found them, however lacking they might be. Her mothers parents could only tell her more about her mother, and she didn¡¯t have any questions about her. Slowly, she walked to the river and considered her next move.

    She wanted a larger purpose than just killing whatever random criminals she met on the road. As many of them as there were, as much as someone needed to remove that evil from the world, other thoughts lodged themselves in her mind over the course of her journey. The monsters on the other side of the mountain wall, and the war to the west. Taradira, a Hatharen, leads a human army against another human army, leaving her people to fight the beasts without her. That bothered Ferene.

    Linara presented another question. Something happened to her to drive her away from a stronghold, and she even thought that Ferene would be better off never meeting other Hatharen. What was her story? What was her relation to the human kingdom of Olentor and why did she hunt former soldiers?

    To Ferene, the human lands were her home, despite all the pain and suffering she had been through in them. Taradira, Linara, and Selveren were outsiders that did not belong. For all she felt that she did not fit in with the humans, those three fit in even less.

    If she traveled north, she would end up relatively close to Olentor. It might be possible to track down Linara from there, or find out more about her. Before she could do that, however, it would be good to not be wearing the jacket from one of their soldiers. Though the garment was slightly too short, it was well made and served Ferene well the last few months. She¡¯d hate to get rid of it. Turning back towards the small village, she walked up the hill. The first person she met - a young man coming down the road towards Selveren¡¯s house - directed her towards the village¡¯s tailor.

    Ferene left the tailor¡¯s house with a cloak over her shoulders, hanging down to her knees. It hid her armor and most of her weapons, but the large sword on her back she wore on the outside of it. The man was happy to trade for the jacket and make some small adjustments to the cloak to fit her frame.

    Above her, the sky was cloudy. A fog bank slid down from the top of the hill, leaving everything it touched slightly damp. Ferene smiled to herself as she took the first few steps north.

    When she first met Linara, her life changed. She could never go back to how it was before. That thought had lingered in the back of her mind for months, and now came to the front. Ferene wanted to find her, wanted to thank her, wanted to tell her all about what had happened to her. With a new goal in mind, she set off of the next part of her journey.

 Interlude: Taradira - 1

    ¡°Try stomping.¡±

    Taradira came to a halt in the middle of her pacing, turning to look at her companions, her eyes locking on to a slender Hatharen leaning against one of the large rocks surrounding their campsite. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Stomping.¡± Filarane repeated. ¡°Put your weight into your steps and grind some of these rocks down to dust. Will make the ground nicer when we sleep.¡±

    Another Hatharen, sitting on the rocky ground, laughed lightly. ¡°Don¡¯t be mean. Tara didn¡¯t ask to be as tall as she is.¡± Filarane rolled her eyes at Satherevas, the speaker.

    Taradira returned to pacing, ignoring the banter. ¡°This is the first time something like this has been seen, as far as we know. How can you relax?¡±

    ¡°So after several thousand years we finally see signs of leadership in the monsters. Yeah it¡¯s worrying but what are we going to do? We still have to kill them. They just might fight back a bit better.¡± A third voice spoke up. Alarethas, the second-largest of the group, after Taradira herself, stood stiffly, watching Taradira walk back and forth across the camp. ¡°We just wait until Ceravas gets back and tells us more.¡±

    The fifth member of the group sat up from where he had been laying on the ground. ¡°How long will we last if they get smarter, Alarethas? They are already wearing us down, slowly, century after century. If they organize and fight better, and we suffer more losses, how long until we end up endangered?¡±

    ¡°Vare, I have confidence, not arrogance. We can overcome whatever they do. That¡¯s why we are here getting information.¡±

    ¡°Ceravas is getting information. Alone. She shouldn¡¯t be out there alone.¡±

    At those words, Alarethas¡¯ expression broke. His dark skin wrinkled as he glared at Vare. ¡°Do you not trust her?¡±

    Taradira came to a half, turning towards the two of them. ¡°Stop.¡± She spoke sharply, and all four of them turned to look at her. ¡°Alarethas, Vare is not doubting Cera¡¯s skills. Vare, I made the decision to send her out alone, and you agreed with me at the time that letting her work alone means she is less likely to be discovered. Remember that.¡±

    The two men let out their breaths and returned to their former positions, Vare lying on the ground and Alarethas standing like a statue.

    Taradira took a moment to smile. Hatharen squads, usually, did not have designated leaders. Her group was different. They trusted her to lead them, and she trusted them to follow. Her methods kept them alive. After she first saw a family member die, all those years ago, she made it her goal to prevent that from ever happening again. Nearly four hundred years later, all six of them lived. They worked and interacted differently, when compared with other families. Vare wasn¡¯t family, but part of the team. They weren¡¯t a family any more, but a fighting force.

    A pebble fell into the middle of their campsite, bouncing down from the cliffs above. Taradira looked upwards, trying to find the source, feeling Filrane, Satherevas, and Vare move to their feet, also looking upwards.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t fool you, Alaret.¡± The soft voice came from the middle of the camp. Taradira turned to see the final member of her team standing next to Alarethas, the two smiling at each other.

    ¡°What¡¯s the news, Cera?¡± Taradira instantly asked.

    ¡°That new thing, there¡¯s only the one, but more and more are joining its army. Doesn¡¯t look good.¡±

    Frowning, she started pacing again. The rest of them stayed silent, watching her. Suddenly, more pebbles fell from above, rattling down the sloped cliff into their camp. Six Hatharen all came to a stop and looked upwards.

    ¡°Cera, were you followed?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She replied. ¡°I¡¯m sure they didn¡¯t spot me, and that¡¯s the wrong direction anyway.¡±

    A short but powerful silence followed her statement. Taradira pulled her axe-sword off her belt. ¡°They already knew we were here. They were waiting for you to get back. We¡¯ve been watched this whole time.¡±

    All of them broke into action, drawing weapons and stepping away from the cliff, out of the large rocks that surrounded the rest of the camp site. Looking up at the cliff they could see dark shapes at the top, staring back down at the group. Unmistakably a group of Vilret, the broad-bodied, short beasts. Taradira swallowed, feeling the worry start to take over. Vilret never traveled alone.

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    ¡°Alarethas, with me. Cera, look out for more of them. Fila, Vare, wait for Cera¡¯s signal before attacking. Satherevas, get ready to make an escape path.¡±

    A series of quick, short replies came, and Alarethas stepped up beside her, his shield in one hand and his sword in the other. Taradira wished she had a shield of her own in this situation.

    From the top of the cliff, a howl sounded, and the Vilret started charging, sliding down the incline, some of them stumbling over and running on all fours. At heart, they were beasts, barely more than wolves, but they moved and acted as a pack, just like wolves. Taradira stood her ground, Alarethas beside her, as more and more crested the hill. At least twenty of the creatures ran at the six of them, hitting the flat ground and closing the gap rapidly.

    ¡°Cahire!¡± Taradira heard Vare shout, followed by the snap of his bowstring, then an echo of the sound of Filarane. The order of events was wrong, but Taradira ignored it, adjusting her stance as the first of the Vilret lunged at her with a spear. With her free hand, she grabbed the neck of the weapon, tugging it and its owner towards her, swinging downward with her own blade, chopping deeply into the beast¡¯s forehead. It fell to the ground at her feet as she pulled her weapon free.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Ceravas?¡± Alarethas turned, looking behind them, ignoring the waves of creatures in front of him. Taradira swore, stepping forward to buy him time. If Vare called out that there were Cahire behind them, then Cera was already dead, likely impaled by a ranged weapon. The fear inside her grew.

    Punching an overly eager Vilret in the face and then decapitating another with her sword, Taradira yelled behind her. ¡°Sat, escape route!¡±

    Something flew over her head, two small bottles that burst on contact with the ground, shattering. Small flakes of something spread over the ground, smoking. The second bottle burst into flames, and the flakes ignited, burning brightly. Taradira turned away, seeing Satherevas standing immediately behind her, his face pale.

    Ceravas was dead on the ground, hardly more than a short jog away, her body riddled with multiple arrows. Alarethas was already standing over her, his shield up, as he fought three Cahire, the creatures just as tall as him. As Taradira watched, one fell to an arrow from Vare, and Alarethas used his shield to block the axe strike from the second, ramming his sword into the beast¡¯s chest. The movement left him open, as the third wrapped its arms around him, plunging the knives it held into gaps in his armor.

    ¡°Do it.¡± She said, nodding to Satherevas. He did not nod back, looking at her for only a moment, his lips pressed together in a thin line, before he turned, throwing two more objects at his fallen companions. That side of the plateau also burst into flames, smoke floating upwards. ¡°Retreat!¡± Taradira yelled, shoving Satherevas to the side, away from the flames. The Cahire stumbled out of the smoke, swatting at the flames covering its body. Patting them out did not work. The creature howled and fell to the ground, rolling around on the rock ineffectively. The unnatural flames burned regardless.

    Vare and Filarane followed Satherevas, and Taradira trailed behind them, watching their rear, looking for any survivors of the enemy. The four of them ran down the mountain path, fleeing the plateau, working their way back towards the border, though the safety of their stronghold was more than a day away. They had traveled for less than half an hour when Taradira heard a pained scream and instantly recognized it as Satherevas.

    The sight when she turned sickened her. The massive beast held her partner, one massive hand wrapped around his torso and the other around his legs, and it ripped him in half. Filarane screamed, shooting an arrow directly into the monster¡¯s mouth, maintaining her aim even in the quickly deteriorating situation. Vare was only slightly slower, dropping his bow and lunging forward with a short sword, plunging it into the beast¡¯s hip. It retaliated by swatting him away, sending him sliding down the side of the mountain before advancing towards Filarane.

    Taradira raced forward, swinging her sword and severing the fingers of the creature as it tried to swipe at the archer. Its other hand came and knocked her back, Taradira barely staying on her feet and sliding backwards. Filarane fired again, point blank, her arrow lodging itself in the eye of the monster before it managed to grab her with its good hand and bash her against the ground, leaving a bloody stain. Taradira ran forward again, ducking a swing of the other hand and striking at the Direag¡¯s stomach, the curved axe-blade of her weapon slashing through flesh. Blood spilled out of the long, deep slice. She scrambled away from the creature as it fell over, slamming the ground and letting go of Filarane¡¯s limp body. The archer was, without a doubt, dead.

    Looking back up the path, Taradira could see the distant shapes of pursuers. Grinding her teeth in frustration, she stepped off the path, onto the steep slope, half-sliding and half tumbling down the side of the mountain, bouncing off rocky outcroppings as she flailed wildly to slow herself down.

    Shortly she came to a rough stop as the slope flattened out. Not too far away lay Vare, covered in blood. His armor was far lighter than hers, and his descent much less controlled. Pushing herself to her feet, ignoring the pain and how her vision swam, she quickly made her way over to him.

    He was still alive. Picking up the last member of her squad, Taradira ran.

    Vare did not live very long.

    Taradira carried him for half an hour before she found a place to hide, slipping into the cave in the rocky terrain. Setting him down, she finally got a good look at his body. His arms and legs were all broken in multiple places, and though he still breathed, he was not conscious. Pulling off the armored cloth he wore, she found his chest covered in bruises where the rocks had scraped the skin off entirely. His face was in an even worse state, with his nose broken, one eye crushed, and many of his teeth missing.

    When he woke up, he moved the upper part of his left arm, the lower trailing uselessly, towards his waist. Taradira looked, and pulled out his dagger. With one eye, he stared at her and nodded, before tilting his head back, exposing his neck.

    ¡°Hatharen do not kill other Hatharen.¡± She said, drawing the blade. She could not imagine how much pain his injuries caused him, but the other four were dead. It was unlikely that she would be able to carry him to the stronghold alone. ¡°That is our most important law.¡± She plunged his knife into his throat.

 Interlude: Taradira - 2

    First, Taradira put Vare¡¯s dagger on her belt, next to her own. The patterns on the flat of the blade told the beginning of his story, but only that. Where he was from, and who his first family was. It did not say that he outlived all of them, and joined Taradira¡¯s family after. It did not do justice to the difficulties of surviving, of trying to fit in, of forgiving himself and eventually finding a kind of happiness with the five of them.

    She retrieved Filarane¡¯s and Satherevas¡¯ blades next. Taradira had no doubt that she was being searched for, but her pursuers were not expecting her to double back. They did not know the ways of the Hatharen people, just as the Hatharen people did not know the ways of the monsters. How many thousands of years had they fought without knowing these things? Neither side tried to learn about the other, tried to understand the ins and outs of their enemy. Why understand a beast?

    Finally, there was Alarethas and Ceravas. How long had the fires burned, even with nothing to feed on? The blades survived even if the corpses didn¡¯t. Taradira stood with six daggers on her waist, and looked to the east. A new kind of creature, never seen before, organized the beasts and killed her people. Yet Cera said there was only one. It was a dangerous new enemy, yet the solution that came to Taradira¡¯s mind was the oldest one she knew.

    Kill the monster.

    Not alone, though. She ran, again, and found a new place to hide, a place to rest where they would not find her. She needed to get back to the stronghold, let everyone know, mobilize a larger force and defeat the creature.

    Turning to look west, towards the mountains, she paused. Satherevas would have smiled at her, if he were still here. Said something to calm her down. She could almost see his face, if she closed her eyes. His smile, his lips. She regretted not kissing him even once on their current outing. She was also too focused on getting the job done, and never focusing enough on-

    Taradira bit her tongue. The pain drove away the distraction, but almost immediately, it was back. She was now seeing him naked.

    Fumbling, her pulled the vambrace off her left forearm, dropping it to the ground next to her. At some point she had ended up kneeling in the rocky terrain. That didn¡¯t matter. Her head swam, ideas and visions floating through her mind, raw desire trying to overtake her senses. Her right hand scrambled at her belt, trying to find her dagger. It had to be hers, not one of the others. She needed it. She needed Satherevas. She had to fix herself, right now, or she would die. He needed to be here, holding her, wrapping his arms around her burying his face in her chest.

    Pain cleared her mind. There was so much pain. Looking down, she saw her dagger passing entirely through her forearm. She wanted to scream, but held herself back. Control. She needed to stay in control.

    Pulling the blade out, she dropped it, grabbing a small handful of pebbles. She shoved them into the hole in her arm. It burned. It burned away the thoughts. She focused on that sensation as she put her vambrace back on, tightening the cloth around the wound before securing the metal plates into place.

    She would pay for it, both now and later. She could barely move the fingers on her left hand, and she would have to cut herself open and remove the stones from her arm later, to heal properly. But for now, she felt the pain. With every beat of her heart, the inside of her arm burned. Satherevas was gone. Dead. She did not think of him.

    Kill the monster.

    That was what she needed to do. Picking up her dagger, she returned it to her belt with the others. Then she gripped her curved sword and pushed herself to her feet. The monsters would expect her to run, wouldn¡¯t they? Expect her to go back to the stronghold, to warn her people.

    Taradira grinned, holding back a laugh.

    The creature had the head of a bird.

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    Its small eyes held intelligence, staring at Taradira without fear. It appraised her, the hooked tip of its long beak wavering from side to side as it considered its options.

    She smiled at it. Two Cahire lay dead between her and the mastermind. The beast¡¯s upper limbs were useless, half-formed between wings and arms, with only two fingers. They looked brittle and it held no weapons. Its lower legs, on the other hand, were thick and ended in long, taloned feet. She figured it might try to kick her.

    Instead it made a noise, chattering at her. Did it beg for mercy, or curse her? She ran forward, and it scrambled backward, but not fast enough. Her sword flashed and she decapitated it.

    It took her days, but Taradira slowly killed off the creature¡¯s reserve guards, catching any messengers it sent out to the larger force that was searching for her further west. The situation it found itself in was reversed, where it was alone and isolated, unable to get help. Now it was dead.

    Letting out a sigh, she unstrapped her vambrace again, cutting her arm open once more and using the tip of her dagger to dig the pebbles out of her flesh. More pain and more blood. After she finished and bound the wound again, Taradira picked up the beast¡¯s head and started her walk back home.

    Victory was hollow.

    ¡°This is the face of what killed my family.¡±

    Taradira dropped the head of the beast - only slightly decayed, after her long trek back from the eastern beyond - onto the floor in front of Vilventhal¡¯s council. The six of them all stared at it, only two making slightly disgusted faces. The others remained serious.

    ¡°A mastermind?¡±

    ¡°A general. A strategist. Not a good one, but better than what we were expecting. Better than anything recorded. Every stronghold needs to know. The beasts can trick us. They can think.¡± Taradira glared at them, one by one. She felt exhausted, but anger drove her forward.

    ¡°It¡¯s dead. How do you know there are more?¡±

    She did not respond to the question. She felt it didn¡¯t need one. Silence filled the cavern. Vilventhal was a series of underground caves, entrances hidden. Taradira¡¯s people relied heavily on farming the lands above for food, and were more aggressive in patrolling than other strongholds. Any threat had to be taken seriously.

    ¡°Very well, Taradira. You¡¯ve shown your worth, once again. I¡¯m sure we can find a new place for you. Any group would be more than happy to have someone of your history.¡±

    Turning towards the speaker, her glare grew sharper. She held back the fury, just barely. ¡°Do you know what I went through, out there? Hiding, alone, with my entire family dead? What happened to me?¡±

    All six of them shook their heads. None even looked away from her.

    ¡°Strong emotion. That¡¯s one of the triggers for the reproductive instinct. I was alone, days away from here, with dozens of the beasts in my path, and my body decided that was the perfect time to start thinking about breeding. Have you ever thought that there¡¯s something wrong with how we are fighting? That we are¡­¡±

    In the middle of speaking, her thoughts suddenly leaped ahead of her words. Even as she said the words, the pieces fell into place in her mind. ¡°It is that way on purpose, isn¡¯t it? We spend hundreds of years growing close to a small group, learning everything there is to know about each other, before we go out and fight. When we get ripped apart, the survivors have to live with the hurt. The pain. The loss. If two die the other four can come back and immediately jump each other to start making more.¡± She wanted to laugh. ¡°Did you set this up, or¡­¡± The eldest family was staring at her, sadness on their faces. Guilt. Regret.

    All six of them. Just like any other group of Hatharen.

    The answer was obvious. ¡°It''s older than you.¡± They looked away from her. She did laugh, at that point. She wanted to cry, she wanted to attack them, but she knew it didn¡¯t matter. These people were not her enemy. Her own people were not her enemy. Desperation was her enemy. Taradira laughed to hide the fear. ¡°I won¡¯t be staying here, to join another group.¡± She finally announced. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡±

    ¡°Leaving? To go where? To do what?¡±

    ¡°To learn how to fight a war properly. To be a leader. To learn how to win.¡± Ideas were already forming in her head, situations and reasons why it wouldn¡¯t work. Not enough Hatharen, too much area to cover, the issue of supply lines, of multiple strongholds working together, the sheer numbers of the enemy, how far they might have to advance. Problem after problem arose in her mind.

    ¡°The human lands?¡± A voice called out. Taradira didn¡¯t have to answer that question, either. Silence followed.

    ¡°We¡­will support you.¡± One of them said, ¡°We will give you a role. Authority. An official reason to be in the human lands. All Hatharen traveling will be your responsibility. Will you accept this position?¡±

    Taradira nodded. Her hand fell to the five extra daggers still on her belt. The remains of her family. ¡°I will do what I need to do.¡±

 Interlude: Linara - 2

    Swaying backwards, Linara barely dodged the sharpened tip of Rilren''s blade as it sliced through the air where her face used to be. Carrying the momentum of the motion, she fell over backwards, placing her hands on the ground, still holding her spear, bent her arms, and then pushed. Propelling herself forward, she flew feet first through the short distance separating her from her opponent. Rilren took her full body kick on his shield, stumbling backwards as she bounced off and landed on her feet.

    Gone were the blunted weapons of her sparring lessons with Senral. The dirt field, now cleared of the wooden passage, held a spectacle. Linara, Hatharen Envoy, the Crown Prince''s personal armsmaster and trainer, squared off against Rilren, the Captain of the Knights. Both wore full armor and held real weapons ¨C Linara her spear and Rilren his sword and shield.

    Experimentally flexing his shield arm, Rilren stood up again, pointing his sword towards Linara. The man could not match her in height, but his combat prowess kept her moving, forcing her to come up with new ways to deal with every attack he threw at her. Slowly, confidently, he strode forward, his eyes locked on hers. Linara poked lightly with her spear, straight forward, pulling the weapon back right before he could slap it aside with his shield. Rilren did not attempt to intercept it, instead walking forward as Linara stepped back after her unsuccessful feint.

    She tried again, putting more force into the attack, but still pulling back at the last moment, and Rilren still ignored it, walking forward as she took another step back. She immediately did another thrust, stopping in the same place as before, but instead of pulling back she swung upwards, rushing forward with the other end of her spear. Rilren reacted to this, raising his shield and pulling his sword back, ready to block and make a counterattack.

    When the butt of her spear made contact with his shield, the blow connected at an angle, instead of head-on, sliding along the curved surface of the shield instead of bouncing off. Linara followed through, slipping to the open space to Rilren''s left side as he pushed the shield against her, turning as they passed with his sword raised to strike.

    At that moment she spun, facing her back towards him and bringing the bladed end of the spear around to strike at him on his right side. He barely managed to adjust his swing to block the blow, but the last second adjustment hit at an angle that ripped the sword from his hand. He quickly recovered his balance, stepping away and bringing his shield up, but Linara did not follow, standing still with her foot on his sword, smiling.

    The onlookers erupted to cheers and applause. The majority of them were regular soldiers from the army, with a sparse sprinkling of city and palace guards, and even a trio of Rilren''s knights. The two fighters bowed towards each other, and then Linara picked up and returned the fallen weapon. The two of them walked off the field, into the shaded area at the side. A pair of soldiers stepped out, bowed towards each, and started maneuvering for advantage.

    ¡°Do you have any idea what the princess has planned for you tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Not a single hint.¡± Linara smiled back at the question. ¡°I think it will be exciting.¡±

    ¡°Confident?¡± He asked.

    She smiled, but did not answer. Rilren rolled his eyes. ¡°Is the king really going to step down?¡± She asked.

    Rilren nodded. ¡°You didn¡¯t know him before. The Queen¡¯s passing changed him. He sticks to his duty, but you can tell he wants to get away from it. Letting Prince Senral take the throne makes sense for him. Do you think he isn¡¯t ready?¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t my place to say. My people do not have kings.¡±

    ¡°You are respected by everyone here. You¡¯ve trained the prince and you know him better than anyone else.¡±

    Letting out a breath, Linara nodded. ¡°With the right people around him, he¡¯ll do fine.¡±

    ¡°And our queen to be?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a high opinion of her.¡±

    Rilren frowned, but didn¡¯t press further.

    The Royal Wedding involved a lot of fanfare. Olentor¡¯s Palace grounds were filled with wooden constructions adorned with colored cloth. Flags and banners of both Olentor and Wellant were everywhere Linara looked. Human industry shocked her. Toys, food, trinkets, and various other good were hawked at visitors and residents. The people of the city surrounding the castle were joined in attendance by villagers from all over Olentor, as well as the citizens of Wellant, eager to see the final step in formalizing the alliance between the two countries.

    After a brief tour of the overly crowded outside, Linara retreated back into the castle, readying herself in her own room. As she tightened the straps on her breastplate, she heard the sliding of a door behind her. Turning, she found Senral leaning against the side of the formerly hidden passageway, smiling at her. She gave him a pointed look.

    ¡°Am I not allowed to visit my personal trainer before she goes to duel for her position?¡±

    ¡°Is that all this is? You are going to be married today, and you are alone with another woman.¡±

    Senral made a show of pouting, but then met her eyes with a serious look. ¡°Are you going to lose on purpose? To give yourself a reason to leave?¡±

    ¡°I have never lost a fight, and I don¡¯t intend to lose this one. I said I will evaluate my prospective replacement. My standards are high, but not impossible. If the applicant does well enough, they can have the job.¡±

    ¡°And you will leave, never to return.¡±

    Linara nodded. Senral looked at her, his face going through several emotions. He didn¡¯t try to hide anything with her. She could see the sadness, the desire to say something.

    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you.¡±

    Linara nodded, keeping her face blank, but then reconsidered. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you, Senral.¡±

    The two of them stared at each other. Linara smiled slightly, and Senral pushed his lips together, as if trying to hold back words. He failed. ¡°I wish it were you.¡±

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    ¡°So do I.¡±

    He opened his mouth, ready to say something else, but then closed it. Nodding once, he turned and ducked back into the passage. The fake stone slid shut behind him, leaving Linara alone in her room once more. Picking up her Hatharen knife, she strapped it to her hip, then grabbed her spear. Soon, she would fight.

    The roar of the crowd was deafening.

    Linara¡¯s practice duels were not a public affair, but word of them had slowly spread throughout the city, and from there the entire kingdom, during her years at the castle. The Hatharen warrior that never lost, not even to the captain of the knights. Stands had been erected around a large square arena, and the seats were packed. Inside the square was a platform raised knee-high, circular in shape, covered in dirt. Linara stepped onto it, standing in full view of the crowd as they shouted and cheered.

    A second platform, even higher, jutted out from the stands. Princess Yenra walked out to even louder cheers, wearing a very uncharacteristic outfit. Rather than a long, flowing dress, a short skirt hung from her waist, showing off her armored boots. She wore two slightly oversized pauldrons on her shoulders, and that was the end of her armor. A golden piece of cloth wrapped around her torso, in stark contrast to the armor, leaving her cleavage exposed, as was typical. In her right hand she held a small shield, and in her left she held a short sword. Stepping to the very edge of the raised platform, she stared down at Linara, before pointing her sword at her and lifting her shield into the air. The crowd fell silent, watching.

    ¡°The current master of arms gave me a challenge: Find a man from my people capable of taking her place as the Prince¡¯s personal trainer.¡± A few murmurs from the crowd met this statement. Yenra waited, holding her dramatic pose, letting them die down before continuing. ¡°I searched far and wide in Wellant, searching not just for a master of weapons, but for someone who could defeat this supposedly unbeatable outsider.¡± She paused here, and yelling started. Smiling, Yenra took a more relaxed pose, looking out over the crowd. They quieted at this, letting her continue. She turned back to Linara. ¡°Are you ready to see your challenge to a conclusion?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± Linara spoke loudly, calmly, back, taking her place in the theatrics. ¡°I see you came here prepared for a fight. Are you going to take the challenge to me yourself, Princess?¡±

    The crowd roared. Yenra smiled down at Linara, and waited for silence. ¡°Surely you are more eager to fight someone your own size, Master Linara. Your opponent today will be Edmon of Wellant, not a knight trained by knights, but a common man, of the people, who has fought battle after battle, and made himself into a master of weapons on his own terms.¡±

    From behind her, a man stepped forward, wrapped in cloth with armored plates sewn in, a weapon in each hand. In his right hand held a short-handled axe, and in his left he held a broadsword. Vaulting off the princess¡¯s dais, he landed on top of the circular arena across from Linara, as the crowd roared in approval.

    Linara smiled at Edmon. The man¡¯s face was heavily scarred, topped by a short cover of brown hair. He nodded back at her, giving the impression of a very serious individual putting up with the theatrics. He was here to fight.

    ¡°The two of you may fight until one yields. Please, start whenever you are ready.¡± Yenra called out. Edmon immediately stepped forward, moving aggressively but not committing to a swing with either weapon, ready to parry any attempt Linara made at intercepting his approach.

    Instead of stopping him, Linara stepped to the side, circling him as he moved closer and closer to her. When he finally made his move, they were both close to the side, allowing Linara to dodge sideways, towards the center. Once there, she swung her weapon, the spear swiping through the space where Edmon stood as he moved backwards, stepping out of her range. He started circling her now, eyes locked on hers as he waited for an opening. Linara held the center of the ring, turning to study him as he stalked in a full circle around her. Finding no openings, he stepped forward again, slowly.

    Linara jabbed at him with her spear, a quick, light thrust. Edmon slapped the strike aside with his sword, rushing forward while swinging his axe. Bringing her weapon in front of her, Linara used the haft of her spear to block the attack, catching the handle of the axe and pulling upwards, yanking the weapon out of his hands from the head. Edmon let go, moving to attack her at close distance with his sword. Linara shoved him away with the body of her weapon, separating them but losing her place in the center of the arena.

    Both fighters started circling now, Edmon swapping his sword to his other hand, and then back, his eyes scanning Linara¡¯s body. He was nervous now, she could see that. Trying to use two weapons to overpower her spear didn¡¯t work out. She could easily end the fight now, or she could give the crowd a show. She thrust at him again, and Edmon parried the strike at the last moment, trying not to fall for any feint. Then Linara charged forward, ready to finish the duel with a powerful swing, designed to knock him down.

    Something felt wrong. Edmon¡¯s stance, his expression, his nervousness. It spoke of someone unused to being in this position. But his armor, his scars. Someone like that didn¡¯t go through life without being outmatched at least once. He was too hesitant, rather than getting aggressive when put at a disadvantage he became more defensive, when he was already cautious to begin with. Almost as if-

    Linara twisted, shifting the target of her swing from his chest to his leg. The maneuver cost her most of the force of the blow, but it did connect, despite Edmon moving at the last moment, turning his entire body into where the attack was supposed to be, raising his free hand and punching at where Linara¡¯s face would have been.

    Linara stepped away, trying to create distance between them, as Edmon charged forward, following her, attacking with both his empty fist and his sword. As the crowd roared in excitement, Linara dropped her spear to the dirt floor and drew her knife. The duel became frantic, blade against blade for a moment before Linara managed to disengage, finally putting some space between them.

    Edmon smiled now, assuming a low stance, his sword held in front of him, ready to advance on her. The serious demeanor gone, raw aggression emanating from him instead. She realized she had fallen for his trick, almost enough to lose to him. The man was dangerous, in an entirely different way than any of her usual opponents.

    She threw her knife at him.

    Edmon looked surprised for a moment as the weapon flew past his face, flinching away from it saving him from losing an eye. That opening was all it took for Linara to kick her dropped spear upwards, grabbing it out of the air and swinging it at him. Instantly on the defensive, outside of his own effective range, and off-balance, Edmon quickly lost ground, blocking attack after attack as he was driven to the edge of the ring. Linara gave him no room to counterattack, finally ending the match by feinting a thrust at his head only to sweep his legs out from under him. As he hit the ground, he found the tip of her spear pressed against his neck.

    ¡°I yield.¡±

    ¡°I think he¡¯ll be great.¡± Linara said. Yenra¡¯s sour expression did not soften, but she nodded. The future queen still wore her impractical battle outfit as the two spoke in Linara¡¯s room inside the castle.

    ¡°You are leaving, then?¡±

    ¡°I never wanted to stay.¡±

    Nodding again, the princess turned and left Linara alone. As soon as the other woman left the room, she collapsed into a chair. Once the excitement from the duel wore off, Linara found herself more exhausted than any training session. She had been pushed to her limits, which she was finding were a lot lower than they used to be. Living in a posh castle had made her soft. She looked around the room, filled with things collected over the years. Clothes, furniture, jewelry, pens, stamps, a small collection of paintings, a single tapestry. As much as she hated the life she left behind in the Hatharen stronghold where she grew up, where she learned to fight, the decadence of human life made her feel a similar disgust.

    Throwing a change of clothes into a sack, she stood up, grabbed her spear, and walked out the door.

    Senral would miss her. She wanted to see him, to say goodbye to him, but at the same time she wanted so many other things. She wanted to ask him to come with her, more than anything else. The two of them could start a new life somewhere, with just each other to worry about, no kingdom, no royal bloodline, or any of that to worry about. She couldn¡¯t ask that of him. It was better to just leave. To set out on her own, and find something else to do with her life.

    Before she knew it, the castle was far behind her, and the world was in front of her.

 Introduction, Book 2: Resolve

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s you. Three years after you vanished, I respond to a message about a stolen scout horse and I find you here.¡±

    Linara smiled up at the man from her seat at the table in her suite of rooms. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you again, Vendel.¡±

    ¡°The feeling is not mutual, I assure you, Linara. A letter from the most expensive hotel in the entire independent lands, and it¡¯s an invoice! It took me two weeks to get here, to sort this all out, and I find you. I could have spent time with my family.¡± Raising an eyebrow, Linara watched as Vendel sat down across from her as he complained, reaching across the table to pick up on the pastries on Linara¡¯s plate and sniff at it experimentally between words. ¡°Are these from this morning?¡±

    She nodded at him, and he bit into it, making a noise of approval. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry that you were called upon to do your job as a treasurer, Vendel. The cost of these rooms pales in comparison to getting one of the king¡¯s horses back.¡±

    Leaning back in his seat, the middle-aged man let out a sigh, apparently done complaining. ¡°Yes, yes, the Royal Horsestock. How did that happen?¡±

    ¡°A deserter stole it.¡±

    ¡°And where is this deserter now?¡±

    ¡°Dead. Him and two squads of men.¡±

    ¡°One of yours?¡± Linara stayed quiet, her lips forming a thin line. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°What is going on in Olentor, Vendel?¡±

    The man brightened up, setting the half eaten pastry down on the tablecloth. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s wonderful. Peasants and nobility alike are upset at increased taxes, a lot of which has been, without subtlety, used to enrich Wellent. Our allies, Wellent. You remember them? Our queen was born there. We are all one nation now, she says, we must share our resources, she says. The king is apathetic about everything, even his own children. He has two sons. Everyone is very happy about that. The two of them have been seen arguing recently, which some people believe is a bad sign. I¡¯d say it¡¯s going well.¡± He smiled at her.

    Linara frowned back at him. ¡°Is it really that bad?¡±

    ¡°When I list it all out like that, it certainly sounds that way. But is it all coming apart? No. The tax situation has created grumbling, but little more than that. We are not dealing with open revolt over it. There was never any romance between the king and queen, so his apathy with her is not unexpected. He is actually rather enamored with the new envoy, to the queen¡¯s displeasure.¡±

    ¡°Tell me about the envoy.¡±

    ¡°Another one of your people, overseeing that particular alliance. There was some degree of grumbling about that, as well, from the militia and the knights. We send them food and other supplies in exchange for weapons, just like we always have, but the new envoy is a lot less hands-on with training. In fact she hasn¡¯t trained anyone at all.¡±

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°My place as the master of arms was separate from my duties as the Hatharen envoy.¡± Linara said, still frowning.

    Vendel shrugged back at her. ¡°The men expect more. They see her as a step down. There have been suggestions that if she shared the forging methods we could replicate the high quality weapons they send to us.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡±

    ¡°Atheyara.¡±

    Crossing her arms and sitting back, Linara tried to remember the woman. She recognized the name but couldn¡¯t remember ever meeting her. ¡°And Senral is spending time with her?¡±

    ¡°His Majesty, King Senral, has been seen talking to her at length. Nothing more than talking, however.¡± He looked at her pointedly. ¡°It took your people over a year to even give us a message that they were looking for a replacement, which we didn¡¯t know about since you asked for one without telling us, after you left without telling us. Abandoning both of your posts like that was mildly extreme, you know. But when she finally did show up this last year, he was immediately very fond of her. I think she reminds him of someone.¡±

    Linara groaned, placing her head on the table. ¡°He was supposed to move on.¡±

    ¡°Did you?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She looked up at Vendel. Beneath his slightly gray beard, she could see a frown.

    ¡°Have you moved on? Found anyone else to romance? Had a fling or three? A one night stand?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She said, quietly. He probably couldn¡¯t even hear her, but he nodded all the same.

    ¡°During one of my conversations with Atheyara, she mentioned the¡­limitations that you have. I told her that you never talked about it and asked her not to tell anyone else. I understand why you gave him away, but the fact remains that you did do that, despite how you feel about him, and despite how he feels about you.¡±

    Linara sat up straight, looking directly at Vendel, intent on every word. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She ground her teeth together. ¡°My feelings are my own to deal with. His feelings are not. A king must act like a king, regardless of his feelings. His duty is to the people. Mine is not.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that is true, Linara. I suppose a sixty year old human like myself cannot judge a Hatharen that will live far longer than me for running away from home like a child that learned the world doesn¡¯t work out perfectly, and then crying about how she left behind her favorite toy and not just getting a new one in the three years since.¡±

    ¡°HE ISN¡¯T A TOY!¡± She found herself standing, leaning forward, her fists suddenly hitting the surface of the table. Vendel did not flinch away from her, but his frown deepened as he looked up into her eyes, disappointment on his face. Sighing, she sat back down, defeated. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone else. My people are very open with relationships, but I can¡¯t be like that. Just because I gave him up doesn¡¯t mean I have to replace him. He needs to give up as well.¡±

    Vendel made a noise of agreement, rubbing his bearded chin. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with your bill here, collect the horse, and be on my way. I will not further chastise you on your abandonment of your positions, since you did arrange for replacements. You will come visit us some time, won¡¯t you?¡± He stood up, shoving the last bit of the pastry into his mouth.

    Waving a hand, Linara rolled her eyes. ¡°You take care of your business and I will take care of mine. I¡¯ll see where I am after that.¡±

    ¡°I can only wonder what business you would have, these days.¡± He said, turning and walking out the door. Linara watched him go, then let out a sigh. She did miss Olentor, but the thought of going back filled her with anxiety. She didn¡¯t want to see Senral again. Vendel, for all his complaining, was right; she had not overcome her feelings. The last three years, she ran from facing that fact.

    Perhaps it was time to face him.

 Chapter 1, Book 2: The One Law

    Hatharen had a very simple rule at the core of their society. A single demand that every one of them must follow, five words that were easy to remember.

    Hatharen do not kill Hatharen.

    Five words, because a single word to describe the action does not exist. Humans, however, have many words for it. Murder. War. Manslaughter. All to describe different situations where one human takes the life of another, all with different punishments. An entire legal system set up so they know what to do with someone who killed someone else. The punishment for murder, generally, is death.

    Hatharen, however, do not kill Hatharen. The punishment for breaking this rule cannot be death because that would also break the rule. So they turn to exile, but even this is not simple. Each stronghold is an isolated society with inconsistent contact with the others. How can one know about an exile from another?

    The punishment for killing another Hatharen is branding and exile.

    This, however, presents a third problem. Any wound that does not kill a Hatharen in a small number of hours will be erased after a few days. The body slowly reverts to the state it was in before the injury. Hatharen bear no visible scars to tell the tale of their wounds.

    When Linara saw a hooded figure standing taller than everyone else on the street of Brimsberth, she became curious. Men of that height were exceedingly rare, however a Hatharen this far to the west seemed even less likely. The face under the hood, seen as they talked with a merchant, however, sent a chill up her spine. This person was bleeding from their face. As they talked, small dots of blood seeped out of the two lines going from the top of their nose and tracing their cheekbones. Streaks of red covered their face from the droplets sliding down the skin.

    To leave a permanent mark on a Hatharen, you inflict a wound that does not heal.

    The grim sight in front of her vanished, and she was slow in following. Thinking about it was unsettling, but she knew what she had seen. A Hatharen criminal, bleeding from the face, walking through a human city.

    Linara found herself at a loss. Hatharen do not kill Hatharen. She never expected to meet another Hatharen here. Could that person have thought the same thing? How would they react, if they knew she was here, in the city? Should she run? Should she investigate?

    Before, she had been an envoy from her people to the human lands. Olentor, the human kingdom she stayed in, was far from here. The independent lands had no kingdoms. Yet she still had a duty to investigate. Hatharen do not shed their duty.

    The branded Hatharen¡¯s name was known to the people, but that was the only information Linara got. Humans turned tight-lipped at the mention of him. Zasthagel. Linara hated that kind of pretentious name. Roughly, it translated to the color of light during the sunset. At least the humans found it sounded scary. They would not tell her where he stayed or what he wanted. Shop owners didn¡¯t tell her what he bought from them. When she returned to her inn at the end of the day, Linara threw herself onto the bed in frustration. Someone walks around with blood constantly flowing out of their face and humans get weird about it.

    She couldn¡¯t blame them, but it was extremely annoying. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

    When she woke up the next morning, Linara found the ground floor of the inn surprisingly full. Half a dozen heads turned to look at her when she entered. The men did not have the look of travelers, but they were not armed.

    One of them stepped forward, a taller man with short-chopped hair. Like the others, he wore common street clothes, not meant for long journeys. ¡°Lady Linara, g¡¯morning. Me¡¯n¡¯my associates have been asked to escort you to a meeting.¡±

    ¡°With?¡±

    ¡°The boss. The one you were asking about yesterday.¡±

    Her efforts had not gone unnoticed, it seemed. She looked across the six unarmed men. Each and every one had the right build for a common guard. Even if they were armed, she could probably take on six of them. ¡°If I refuse?¡±

    The speaker glanced at one of his comrades, who shrugged. Meeting Linara¡¯s eyes again, he smiled at her. ¡°You wanted information. We can take you to the man ¡®imself, and you can get all the information you want. He wants to talk to you.¡±

    ¡°Fine, take me to him, then.¡±

    The men escorted her through the city, across several streets and into the back door of a building on one of the main avenues. They waited in the entryway, pointing her up the stairs. At the top, she found a crowded room filled with bookshelves, overflowing with stacks of paper rather than tomes. At a small desk in the center sat a hooded figure. He stood up when she walked in the door, his bleeding face visible under the hood of his cloak.

    ¡°Zasthagel.¡±

    ¡°Linara.¡±

    ¡°So you know of me.¡± None of the people she talked to the previous day asked for her name.

    Stepping around to the front of the desk, he leaned against it. ¡°You¡¯re a known entity, among the Hatharen.¡±

    ¡°So your exile is recent, then?¡± She asked, crossing her arms.

    Zasthagel clicked his tongue. ¡°Recent enough to know about the wondrous child of Aesuthal. Half human but a fast learner, and unbeatable in a fight. Why did you leave our people, Linara?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m not one of them. No more than you are.¡±

    Zasthagel let out a short laugh. ¡°Are you saying we have something in common?¡±

    ¡°A very short list of similarities. You are branded.¡±

    He licked his lips as a trail of blood reached them. ¡°Our people can be very cruel.¡±

    ¡°What are you doing here, Zasthagel? Running a band of thugs? The people are too scared to tell me about you. It does not paint you in a positive light.¡±

    He stood up, coming to his full height, towering a half-head over Linara. ¡°There is no artist, alive or dead, that could paint my face in a positive light, after what was done to me.¡± He pushed his hood back, bringing his scarring into the light. ¡°Everyone looks upon me with fear. I am only what they made me.¡±

    ¡°Do I look like I¡¯m afraid of you?¡±

    He stared down at her, as she looked up into his eyes. She tried to imagine his face without the marking. Rough and angular, with a nose that was slightly too small. Dark blue eyes and a mess of tangled gray hair. The red blood dripping down his cheeks now drew any attention. She smiled at him.

    ¡°You say they made you like this. Do you claim to be innocent of your crime? The one crime, our most important law? Were you wrongfully accused, or did you decide this fate for yourself?¡±

    He broke eye contact with her, walking back around and sitting down in the chair at his desk. ¡°I am guilty, by the standards of our people. I did what I felt was right. Nothing more than that.¡±

    Linara stared down at him, silently, looking him over. She watched as he picked up a cloth and wiped at the blood on his face. ¡°Tell me how it happened.¡±

    ¡°I have a brother. A twin.¡± Zasthagel took a deep breath, laughing a little. ¡°He is better than I am. He was challenged to a simple practice duel, but his opponent was angry. My brother is not a fighter. I said that I would take his place. The challenger became even more upset. We fought. We fought longer than we should have. I had the upper hand, and I attacked too aggressively. He took a chance on evading the attack. He did not live.¡±

    Linara nodded. Hatharen training weapons were blunted but heavy. The wrong kind of hit could still be heavily damaging. Death was not impossible, but training was taken very seriously. ¡°Do you regret killing him?¡±

    Zasthagel looked up at her. ¡°He wanted to injure my brother as a means to relieve his anger. He might have gone as far as to try to kill him. I did not want to be a killer, I did not mean for it to happen. But I would take the risk any time.¡±

    Silence followed Zasthagel¡¯s declaration. Linara couldn¡¯t fault him, but the story felt unnatural. Hatharen did not act the way he described. ¡°Why are the people in the city scared of you?¡±

    ¡°My face, probably,¡± He replied, expressionless.

    Linara rolled her eyes. ¡°When I ask them who the man with the bleeding face is, they give me your name and nothing else. What do you do here? Who are those men that brought me here?¡±

    ¡°You think I¡¯m a criminal.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She answered. She didn¡¯t want it to be true, and his tone made her think that her accusation hurt him.

    ¡°Is it because of my face?¡±

    ¡°I have never heard of an exile showing up in human lands. I understand that most go north. I am curious as to what kind of life a branded murderer leads.¡±

    Sighing, he gave her a small smile. ¡°I am the ringleader of a small group of people that operate outside of the law imposed by the constables. My people will do work that city officials will not. Finding stolen goods, renegotiating unfair deals, enforcing fair deals, things like that. A visit from me or my people is not a happy thing, so I am feared.¡±

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°It sounds to me like you are selling intimidation.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I am.¡±

    ¡°Is it because of your face?¡±

    Zasthagel laughed. ¡°It certainly makes it easier. I don¡¯t think my brother could do what I do. He handles a different side of our business. If we swapped, we would find ourselves in a horrible situation within a few days.¡±

    His words snared her, shattering her assumptions of the situation. ¡°Your brother is here? In this city? Even though he isn¡¯t an exile?¡±

    ¡°I tried to tell him to stay, but he would not let me bear the weight of my crimes alone. I defended him, so he has shared my exile, if not my markings.¡±

    ¡°Let me talk to him.¡± Zasthagel could not be trusted, but she could at least believe his story if he did in fact have a twin brother. It was a start to knowing what sort of person she was dealing with. ¡°I take it neither of you have talked to Taradira? You wouldn¡¯t, as an exile, but your brother should have.¡±

    ¡°Who is Taradira?¡±

    Of course. Two Hatharen just wandering around, unknown to anyone else. In a position to take over a city, possibly. Committing crimes against humans, likely. They could damage, or even ruin, the reputation of all Hatharen. ¡°The Warden. The individual who keeps track of all the Hatharen living in the human lands.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re supposed to just give this person our information? Tell them what we do, where we go, and all of that?¡±

    Linara nodded. ¡°If someone needs to find you, she can help them. If you end up killed, she is the one that will let your family know. If you start causing trouble for the humans, she is the one that will hunt you down and¡­¡± She trailed off, shrugging. ¡°Well, she would normally drag you back to where you came from, but I guess that really doesn¡¯t apply to you, does it? She would have to find some other way to deal with you.¡±

    ¡°Should I be scared of this warden?¡± Zasthagel smiled wide, the motion squeezing his wounds, causing more lines of blood to drip down his face. The expression was very unsettling.

    ¡°She¡¯s a mountain of muscle and, from a story I heard, fought through an entire army of beasts, alone, to return to her stronghold after a scouting mission went bad. Completely unhinged when angry, cold and calculating when not. I¡¯ve never lost a fight, but I don¡¯t want to be her enemy.¡±

    The grin vanished, but the blood didn¡¯t. ¡°Why would someone with that sort of history be here, and not still fighting in the north?¡±

    Linara returned an exaggerated shrug. ¡°I¡¯m not going to question where she wants to be. Now, your twin brother. Show me.¡±

    He was handsome and Linara hated him immediately.

    Even ignoring the scarring, Zasthagel looked like an early work compared to the finished masterpiece that was his twin brother. The way he smiled confidently at her, the look of superiority on his face put her in a bad mood as she sat down across from him at yet another desk, in a much larger, less cluttered room. Shelves full of books replaced with paintings and tapestries on the walls, the wide table clear except for a single, short stack of well organized papers and a fountain pen.

    ¡°You two certainly do look like twins.¡± She said, frowning. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Raulthen.¡±

    Starlight. ¡°Of course.¡± Zasthagel stepped around behind her, closing the door to the room. She ignored him. ¡°So, tell me about your part of this business.¡±

    ¡°I provide laborers to individuals that need them.¡±

    ¡°What kind of labor?¡±

    ¡°All sorts. If someone wants someone for a job, I try to provide them the best individual - or individuals - for the task. All for a reasonable price.¡±

    ¡°Why do they pay you for¡­¡± Linara fell silent, her eyes darkening as she looked across the table at him. That confident smile, that handsome face. Raulthen looked sincere. ¡°You sell slaves.¡± He nodded. ¡°That is illegal in most human cities.¡±

    ¡°Most cities outside the Independent Lands, yes. A few inside it, as well, but Brimsberth is not one of them.¡± His smile faded, but his expression didn¡¯t darken. Instead, he looked bored.

    Linara felt tensions throughout her body. She was prepared for Zasthagel, the exile, to be complicated. A criminal, potentially. Raulthen was not branded. He had not broken the Hatharen laws. ¡°And are all your slaves obtained legally?¡±

    He laughed at her. ¡°Of course not. I have a network of contacts stretching far south to collect humans from down there and bring them to me.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± She fought to keep the anger down. She fought to keep her hands steady, on top of the desk.

    ¡°Why not? Why shouldn¡¯t I capture and tame humans, sell them like livestock? They are inferior and short lived, like animals. Chickens, horses, humans - what¡¯s the difference? The fact that they talk?¡± He laughed again. ¡°What came over your mother, to take one of those creatures into her bed? To give birth to a flawed, primitive beast like yourself?¡±

    It took all of her control to remain calm. Years of training for the battlefield put to use just to talk to someone across a table. ¡°What do you think will happen if I expose what you are doing to one of the larger cities? Or even one of the kingdoms bordering the Independent Lands? Brimsberth will not protect you.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t tell anyone. You will protect me.¡± He smiled at her. ¡°Because despite being half animal, you believe yourself to be a Hatharen. You were raised by Hatharen. You won¡¯t kill a Hatharen, even indirectly. You can¡¯t. It goes against your very nature.¡±

    Wordlessly, she rose from her chair, turning around, coming face to face with Zasthagel, who stood silently behind her the entire time. His expression was blank, unreadable, as blood leaked from his wound. He stepped aside, letting her leave. She exited the building, finding her way back to an open street.

    Brimsberth was supposed to be just a stop on her way back to Olentor. For the second time in her life, Linara felt defeated. She never lost a duel in all her time in the human lands, but she left the encounter with Raulthen defeated.

    He was right. She could not go to a neighboring city and tell them about his organization. Her only option was to explain everything to Taradira and let the Warden sort it out. Drag Raulthen back to his stronghold, send Zasthagel north. Linara wandered from street to street, lost in misery. Could she capture them, and either bring them to Taradira, or summon her to these lands? It still felt like defeat. Linara did not want to rely on that woman at all.

    She bumped into someone walking on the street. The young boy bounced off her, falling down backwards. Starting to apologize, Linara stepped forward, but a girl helped him up. A friend, or a family member? She was wearing a dirty orange scarf that caught Linara¡¯s eye.

    The same color as Ferene¡¯s hair.

    She hadn¡¯t thought of the strange girl much since they parted ways back in Cefgras. If Ferene had followed Linara¡¯s directions, and gone to Yonthal, she would have arrived there weeks ago. The two children scurried away from Linara as she stood still, thinking.

    The answer was so simple, but Linara¡¯s mind fought against it.

    All she had to do was kill Raulthen.

    Hatharen do not kill other Hatharen.

    In her mind, drops of blood trailed down Zasthagel¡¯s face. Except it wasn¡¯t Zasthagel¡¯s face, it was Linara¡¯s own face.

    They had never talked to Taradira. Nobody knew they were here.

    Kill person. Death was necessary. Linara felt sick just thinking about it. She stumbled back to the inn. Hatharen do not kill Hatharen.

    Do Hatharen take slaves? Do Hatharen look down on humans so much?

    Raulthen called humans animals. He was the animal. In her room, Linara¡¯s hand closed around the haft of her spear. She could hear her own heartbeat. Fast, loud. Her footsteps grew heavy as she retraced the path the men had led her on that morning. How long had she wandered, lost in thought? How long had it taken her to stagger back to her room? She walked slowly, weapon in hand. People gave her a wide berth, but they did not stop her. This was a city where people did not care about other people. Where buying and selling humans was normal. Breathing was hard.

    The anger was there. He had insulted her, insulted her mother, insulted her father. Linara let out a laugh. Was this how Ferene felt? Was this what drove her? If Linara felt like this every day, would she turn out the same way? The haze in her mind cleared, and her footsteps got lighter.

    Hatharen do not kill Hatharen.

    Linara was not Hatharen. She never would be. Not the way her mother was. Not the way her family had been. They had never truly accepted her. She trained with them, she fought alongside them. She killed beasts from the wastelands till it made her sick and they looked at her with pity, not camaraderie.

    But she was infinitely more Hatharen than Raulthen.

    Even after leaving the place she was born, she still worked to benefit them. She worked with the humans to get the supplies they needed. She built her own reputation, and with it the reputation of her people.

    She would not let her people be known as slavers.

    Standing outside the building, spear in her hand, she took a deep breath.

    She would do what needed to be done, for her people.

    Up the stairs, into Zasthagel¡¯s office. He wasn¡¯t there. That was good. She wasn¡¯t here for him. Not yet. Linara did not know what to do about him.

    Raulthen must die.

    Hatharen do not kill Hatharen.

    Connecting hallways. More doors. One of them locked, but easily broken. Raulthen¡¯s office, also empty. Where was he? Another door, a stairway downwards. Back to ground level. How big was this building? Linara stepped around every corner waiting for someone to attack her. Eventually, she came face to face with one of the men from that morning. He was unarmed. She grabbed him, slamming him against the wall.

    ¡°Where is your boss?¡±

    He was more than happy to tell her. She bound and gagged him and left him behind.

    Ferene would have killed him. Ferene would have killed everyone she came across. Linara had no doubt of that.

    That was Ferene, though. Linara was here to kill one person, and one person only. In that way, it was like a duel. Hatharen loved duels. Human knights loved duels.

    Linara never lost a duel, and this one she had already won. Raulthen tried to turn her against herself, but she won. Being a duel to the death, this meant his death was inevitable. She didn¡¯t need to kill anyone else.

    She found him in the basement, watching one human beat another with a stick. Training slaves. He smiled at her as she entered, extending a hand. As if he was waiting for her. As if he had won, and made her into his slave.

    He was still smiling when she killed him.

    Her spear stabbed through his rib cage into his heart. She didn¡¯t hestitate. Hatharen do not kill Hatharen, so there was no time to hesitate.

    A scream cut through the room. It wasn¡¯t from the slave being beaten.

    Zasthagel held the dead body of his brother as Linara looked down at him.

    She should probably figure out what to do with him.

    ¡°He did that to your face, didn¡¯t he?¡±

    Zasthagel looked up at her, his face twisted in grief and confusion. ¡°W-what?¡±

    ¡°He did something that angered someone, and you stepped in to defend him. You ended up killing when you didn¡¯t want to. You did it for him. He used you, and you paid the price.¡±

    ¡°N-no. He¡­he stayed with me, when I had to leave. We came here together.¡±

    ¡°He hated it here. He hated humans.¡±

    Zasthagel nodded.

    ¡°Did he hate you?¡±

    ¡°I loved him. He was my brother.¡±

    ¡°Did he hate you?¡±

    ¡°Go away, Linara.¡±

    ¡°What will you do?¡±

    He looked away from her, back at the face of his dead brother. Linara left him there.

    Hatharen do not kill Hatharen. Linara felt sick. That made sense. She hadn¡¯t killed a Hatharen, but a monster. She wanted to scream. Instead, she took a deep breath, and smiled.

    Smiling always worked. When she left her people, she smiled. The human lands held a new beginning for her. When she left the castle, she smiled. Senral would be better off if she wasn¡¯t there, distracting him. When a man she had helped train was killed in front of her, she smiled. Ferene needed to see that smile. That girl never smiled. Probably didn¡¯t know how. How much pain was there in her past? More than Linara¡¯s. Linara¡¯s mother loved her, even if the rest of her people didn¡¯t. Linara could remember all the good times with Senral, all the moments they shared together, even if in the end, she had to abandon all hope of having more of those moments. She had no reason not to be happy. She had no reason not to smile.

    So Linara smiled.

 Chapter 2, Book 2: The City Of Mercenaries - Part 1

    Bavmont sat at the edge of a lake, half of the city stretching out onto the water. In her years wandering through the Independent Lands, Linara avoided ever visiting the so-called City of Mercenaries. The lakeside location was the city¡¯s second claim to fame - the first was a culture built around martial prowess and bloodshed.

    On one hand, it reminded her of life among the Hatharen. Linara herself was a fighter, and her life revolved around that - but that was true of nearly every Hatharen. Humans did not live like that, and her time in Olentor was made better for it. Friends like Vendel, who never once picked up a weapon, provided new perspectives on life. Another place obsessed with combat did not appeal to her.

    On the other hand, Linara was not fond of bloodshed. Her life before entering the human lands revolved around training to kill monsters. Fighting - and potentially killing - humans initially came to her as a shock. It was rare for her to need to kill, as most of her duties involved training others - until she met Ferene, at least. Since then she found herself leaving a trail of bodies behind her.

    Looking down the hill she stood on at the walled city, Linara took a deep breath and started walking towards it. Perhaps her meandering path southeast taking her close to it was only fitting. Without any rush to get back to Olentor and confront whatever might be waiting for her there, Bavmont presented an ideal stop.

    ¡°Soldier, are you?¡±

    ¡°Former soldier.¡±

    The gate guard looked her up and down, frowning. ¡°You don¡¯t stop being a soldier until you put down your weapons.¡± The young man leaned casually against the massive wooden door, which looked to be stuck in place, the bottom part having sunk into the grass beneath it. A smaller door, set into the structure, stood open beside him.

    ¡°Former soldier in service to a lord. On my own now.¡± Linara amended her statement.

    ¡°You here for our event? Looking to compete?¡±

    Linara blinked in response. ¡°No idea about that. Just moving east.¡±

    Raising a hand and rubbing the back of his neck, the guard paused, rubbing his lips together in thought. ¡°You any good in the ring? Novelty entrant like you would get some attention, especially if you go far.¡±

    ¡°I personally trained the king of Olentor and several of his knights, sparred daily with the Knight¡¯s commander, and have never once lost.¡±

    He blinked, then laughed. ¡°Hey George, this one says she trained a king!¡± He yelled at the open door.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t heard that one before.¡± Said another voice, and a second guard leaned around the frame, looking at Linara. ¡°Oi, Patram, lookit the ears. She¡¯s one of those mountain folk. Not human. My granda used to tell me stories about ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°So she tellin¡¯ the truth, then?¡± Patram asked, tilting his head as he looked at Linara again. ¡°Think we should bet on it?¡±

    ¡°Bet on what? What¡¯s the event?¡± Linara asked, standing at ease. Two bored men gossiping at their post was nothing new to her, and she was mildly interested.

    ¡°Twice a year city holds a tournament. One on one fights, first to three cuts, or three drops, wins. Keep fighting until only one is left. Use any weapons you want, as long as it all takes place in the ring.¡±

    Linara stood still, considering. How long had it been since she last had a serious fight, in single combat? She couldn¡¯t remember at this point. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    George smiled. ¡°Outsider should have good odds. Win for us, will ya? Go on inside.¡± He retreated around the doorframe as Patram waved her through.

    In stark contrast to most cities in the Independent Lands, which sprawled outwards, Bavmont huddled behind its short walls, buildings clustered together, additions built on top seemingly haphazardly, with mismatched wood and paint. None of the buildings towered more than two or three stories, but they seemed to lean on each other for support. Twisting paths lead between them, most too narrow for carts. Linara found one of the wider streets, and after a short turn from the gate it widened further into an open boulevard, packed with people.

    At the end of the road stood a wide, uniform structure. Linara slowly weaved through the crowd on her way towards it. Many of the people she passed were armed and armored, moving with the ease of people used to carrying such weight. Something was calming about it, being just one of many, not standing out. People did not shy away from her or whisper as she passed. To them, she was just another soldier, another mercenary, another glory seeker in a sea of many.

    On the other hand, she was once again reminded of humanity¡¯s sheer mass. This one street alone held more armed fighters than her entire Hatharen stronghold, and there were more in other parts of the city, and there were so many cities. Humans spread across the land, on and on, in numbers beyond the comprehension of Hatharen, while Hatharen spread themselves across time, living beyond the comprehension of humans.

    And then there was Linara herself, who could do neither.

    Pushing the thoughts from her mind, she walked faster, reaching the building. A heavy stone desk sat outside the walls, in the open air. A bored looking man stood behind it, leaning on the surface.

    ¡°You want in? Dueling?¡± He asked, looking up at her as she approached. Linara nodded. He slid a paper across the table to her. ¡°Name here, show up in three days at noon. You¡¯re a little early, things will get crazy tomorrow. Late arrivals have to fight each other to get in when the remaining slots get low.¡±

    Linara wrote her name down on the paper, handing it back to the man. ¡°Just my name?¡±

    ¡°When you enter the arena, you are only your name. Your past achievements, your upbringing, your bloodlines - none of that matters. Everyone is equal within those walls. Royalty and Heroes and the farmer¡¯s son with a secondhand sword are all treated equally.¡±

    Linara nodded at this. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in three days, then.¡±

    Linara found an inn and bought a room, shedding her armor and changing her clothes before going back outside to find food.

    Returning to the central street, Linara walked past the large permanent arena, towards the waterfront half of the city. Closer to the center were stalls selling food to the people milling about. Cooked fish and waterfowl, dried seaweed. She bought small amounts of everything, idly eating as she walked around, watching the other people. They weren¡¯t all competitors, but they also weren¡¯t all spectators. She noted multiple groups in identical - or at least, similar - uniforms. Mercenary companies, probably looking to expand their ranks before heading south. News of increasing tensions between the two largest southern kingdoms was becoming more and more common. Worries about which side would win and what they would do after subduing their rival. Expansion into the Independent Lands was always a worry, and some considered it a sure result of a war, the question was just which side would be claiming more territory.

    To Linara, the outcome seemed obvious. One side had Taradira, and the other didn¡¯t.

    Twice, she had met the Hatharen General. The closest thing to a living legend among her people. Over a hundred years ago, Taradira had found a new kind of creature from beyond the mountains, killed it, and brought news of it back. Her discovery caused widespread change in tactics and saved many lives, at least for a time. More shocking was that she fled, going to the human lands and spending the century there. How many wars was she involved in? A hundred years of fighting in the human lands and she was still alive. Linara shuddered at the thought. Unlike Taradira, she had no desire to lead armies. The mercenary companies were not for her.

    The next day, she found that there was a small yard behind the inn she was staying at, just barely large enough for her to exercise in. She began a training routine with stretches, then moved on to weapon drills, finally ending by donning her armor and repeating the entire process fully geared. By the time she finished, several other guests were watching.

    ¡°You here for the tournament?¡± One asked as she walked back towards the building. Linara nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t get your hopes up, if that display is what you are about.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Fancy weapon swinging like that isn¡¯t how you win.¡± The man said, frowning. ¡°There¡¯s two kinds of people that enter. The ones trying to win, and the ones trying to gain attention. Fight properly, and people will notice you. But you won¡¯t win. The winners fight dirty.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think I can¡¯t fight dirty?¡± Linara asked. The man was right. The way she fought training Senral and his knights was very different from the way she fought back in her stronghold. Hatharen sparring was a different kind of training. Learning to fight unpredictable, unthinkable, and unnatural opponents. Humans weren¡¯t capable of understanding what Linara was willing to do to win, since they weren¡¯t capable of understanding the kinds of opponents she had been taught to fight. Remembering the previous day, that was also why Taradira¡¯s army would win. Linara had no doubts that the massive Hatharen posed a threat that her human enemies would have no way to deal with.

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    ¡°You train like a soldier. Soldiers don¡¯t win here. That¡¯s all.¡±

    Linara nodded. ¡°I trained soldiers.¡±

    ¡°Interesting.¡± The man said, and turned to leave. The others that had gathered to watch her were exchanging looks and whispers.

    Once again, she wandered the streets, watching the people. As she had been told, the city began to fill up, more mercenary companies, more lone warriors walking around fully armed and armored. A line formed at the desk in front of the arena.

    Something else caught her attention. A number of younger humans were standing around, keeping a distance, but intently scanning the line. Linara counted ten of them, spread out from each other, and six more in groups of twos. There were other young men and women, not alone, but following older, well equipped soldiers.

    The culture of Bavmont was multi-layer and multi-faceted. Mercenaries and wandering soldiers, eager youths looking for mentors, even some of the city guards were standing nearby. The tournament was a recruiting ground. She was starting to reconsider her participation. She just wanted to fight, a proper contest of skill. Not the mental struggle against herself that Raulthen put her through. Not the slaughter of thugs that she helped Ferene with. Not to earn herself recognition in the eyes of others looking to hire her.

    Regardless of what others made of it, a fight was still a fight. She could just ignore the culture she didn¡¯t care about. As long as they gave her strong opponents, what did it matter to her what they made of her fights? She wanted the excitement of practicing with Rilren or dueling Edmon.

    The day before the event, the main street was mostly empty, and the desk in front of the arena was gone. The wall behind where it used to be stood open, a gate swinging outward and beckoning inwards. Linara walked through, finding herself walking up a wooden staircase to emerge in the stands, watching over a field as a swarm of combatants scrambled in a desperate fight. They wore bright cloth of red or blue, and she saw one man fall after a blow, tearing off his wrapping and tossing it down before crawling away.

    The crowd around her roared. She stared down at the brawl, frowning. Linara could see no organization, no strategy or even tactics. One fighter in blue attacked the man in red in front of him, dropped his opponent, and turned to the right, almost striking a fellow blue wearer before turning the other way, too late to avoid a strike from another red-wearing, club-wielding man. All of them carried clubs, and a few held shields in their other hands. The goal seemed only to bash the other color into submission and make them discard their cloth and leave the field.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look so sour.¡±

    Linara turned at the sound of the voice, seeing a young woman looking up at her. Gray eyes peered out from under a wall of black hair.

    ¡°Most of them sign up late on purpose just to participate in the grand melee. Let them have their fun.¡±

    Linara shrugged, turning back to the field. ¡°How does it work?¡±

    ¡°All the leftovers fight for the last twenty-odd spots. Split into two teams, the last however many still in when they say to stop can participate in the event tomorrow. Most of them know they won¡¯t last that long and just run in looking to bash someone.¡± As the girl spoke, Linara watched someone do just that; a large man with a red cloth wrapped around him ran into a group of five blue-clad opponents, swinging left and right and knocking three of them to the ground before the other two managed to bring him down. All four removed their colors and walked off the field.

    ¡°Do the spectators bet on this, too?¡±

    ¡°A little. Which side wins doesn¡¯t really matter, just how many are left. Could be a mix of both sides that go on to tomorrow¡¯s tournament. The side that is better off is usually whichever one ends up with more of the serious fighters, which is random.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t anyone serious register in advance?¡± Linara asked as she watched more mindless club-smacking.

    ¡°Early entrants are considered lower skill and placed in harder spots. The best way to go far in the bracket is to survive the melee.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Linara replied, realizing she¡¯d been tricked. The men at the gates had set her up to face stronger opponents, likely so they could make more betting on her. It didn¡¯t matter, since she was sure she would win either way. ¡°What a silly system.¡±

    ¡°They want to make sure at least some good fighters participate in this, to keep it interesting. If it was only bone-headed idiots, the masses would find it less fun to watch.¡±

    Giving the girl another look, Linara frowned. ¡°Why do you watch it?¡±

    ¡°I need to find a mentor that is willing to take me, but also isn¡¯t approached by anyone else they¡¯d want more.¡±

    ¡°How many people out there are better than you?¡±

    ¡°Not that many.¡± The youth said, looking up at Linara again. ¡°But I¡¯m short, and I¡¯m a girl. Makes me a poor choice in most people¡¯s eyes.¡±

    ¡°Women are seen as poor fighters here?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know how it is anywhere else, but in Bavmont, if men want to work, they become fighters. If women want to work, they become fishers. For the most part. A few go the other way, but to be noticed as a woman you need to be exceptional. I¡¯m a bit above the average.¡±

    About half the fighters in the melee were still wearing colors, finally coalescing into a semblance of battle lines rather than a tavern brawl. The crowd grew louder as the cheering intensified with every removed participant.

    ¡°Well, good luck with that.¡± Linara said, turning to leave. The girl remained silent as she returned her gaze to the field.

    On the day of the tournament, Linara got dressed, armored, and went down to the small open square behind the inn. Once again, several of the other guests showed up to watch her routine, but all of them left before she finished. Once done, she quickly ate a roll and a few pieces of bacon from the kitchen before leaving the inn.

    It was still early, and the main street was occupied not by hordes of cityfolk, but a few other armed and armored men, all walking towards the central arena. Linara trailed after a group, letting them lead her to a side entrance where a man in a fancy suit took each of their names down, checking them against a list, and directed each member of the group to a different room.

    ¡°Name?¡±

    ¡°Linara.¡±

    ¡°Last name?¡±

    ¡°Just Linara.¡±

    Throwing her a glare, the man looked down at his list, then his eyebrows went up in surprise. ¡°Well then, it seems you are. Very well. Hall to the left, furthest door down. An attendant will notify you when your turn comes.¡±

    Nodding, Linara walked down the hall, as instructed, going to the final door. It was a very long hallway, one that seemed to wrap nearly halfway around the inside of the circular structure. Her waiting room was a simple affair with a bench along one wall, a rack on the other wall with some towels, bandages, and scissors, and a well-used training dummy in the center. A very simple but obvious construction of a thick, solid piece of wood coming up to her chin, with two other pieces made to represent arms sticking out at the appropriate height, one even holding a shield. Ignoring it, Linara sat down on the bench and waited.

    Luckily, or unluckily, or more likely a result of a her early registration, a middle-aged woman stepped into her room after only a few minutes. ¡°You there. Linara? Follow me.¡± She turned and left without even letting Linara confirm her identity.

    Halfway back around the outside ring of doors, and she found herself being lead through a short tunnel out into the daylight. The crowd was already roaring above her, and her opponent stood in a ring already. There were four rings, spread throughout the dirt floor of the arena, with chest-high walls dividing it into equal sections for each.

    The man was tall and thin, a short spear in one hand and a large, round, wooden shield in the other, a full-face helmet obscuring his head. Stepping towards him, Linara readied her weapon. He did the same, before charging directly at her, not waiting for any sort of starting signal.

    As he exploded into motion, the crowd grew louder. Linara immediately found herself on the defensive, pushing the tip of his spear away with the haft of her own, only for him to bash her in the chest with his shield, forcing her backwards. Stepping with the force of the blow, she adjusted herself, bringing her weapon up again. Her opponent charged again, this time bringing his shield up, protecting his body as he ran forward. Linara waited, stepping to the side at the last moment, grabbing the edge of his shield and twisting. With it strapped to his arm, she had no chance of removing it, but he couldn¡¯t twist himself to bring his spear at her with enough force or accuracy to get through her own armor. The tip of it slipped across her breastplate as she brought her own weapon to bear, sweeping his legs out from under him.

    The man fell in a clatter of armor, and Linara pinned his gauntleted arm to the ground and pulled his spear from his grasp. He rolled away, freeing his arm from under her foot and pushed himself to his feet. Linara tossed his spear over the nearest wall, into another pair¡¯s arena, where two fighters were already squaring up to fight.

    Putting his free hand behind his shield, Linara¡¯s opponent pulled out a dagger which seemed to have been fastened to the inside of it. Slowly, he advanced on her again, staying just out of the range of her spear, and stepping back whenever Linara made a move to attack. The overconfident charging was gone, replaced entirely with the caution of an experienced fighter unsure of his opponent¡¯s abilities. Linara smiled, and moved to finish the duel.

    Her own charge was met by a backstep and an attempt to block with the shield. At the last moment, Linara stepped to the side, swinging her spear around to strike her opponent on the shoulder, the force of the blow spinning him slightly away from her, leaving his back exposed as she struck two more times, sending him face-first to the ground.

    Rather than disarming him again, Linara landed one blow on the back of his head, driving his faceplate into the dirt before he could start to roll away. Dropping his dagger, he tried to use his free hand to push himself to his feet, but Linara struck his shoulder, forcing him back down. At that point, he pounded his fist into the dirt twice. ¡°I yield!¡±

    Crouching down, Linara helped the man to his feet, only for him to bash her in the face with his shield. She felt her nose break from the blow, and stumbled backwards in a daze. She could vaguely see him picking up his weapon as she shook her head, trying to clear it.

    Anger filled her, and she gripped her spear tightly, standing up straight as she squared off against his her opponent once more.

    He threw his dagger at her.

    Linara barely moved her head out of the way, avoiding the weapon piercing her through the eye. It seemed that while you didn¡¯t need to kill your opponent to win, there were no rules against doing so. Or any rules at all, she realized. Taking a deep breath, she smiled at her opponent and bowed towards him. He responded by pulling another knife out from behind his shield. How many did he have stored there? She didn¡¯t know.

    Linara threw her spear at him.

    The motion should have been obvious to anyone who had seen it before, but perhaps her opponent simply didn¡¯t think she would go so far as to throw away her main weapon in a duel, since he brought up his shield just before the spear hit him, covering his face and entire upper body.

    Linara¡¯s weapon pierced through his leg, right above the knee, in a gap between the tasset and greave. He fell to the ground, dropping his new weapon. Linara walked over, pulled her spear free, and stared down at the man as he lay on the ground. ¡°Stop! Stop!¡± The middle aged attendant called from the side as she ran forward, waving wildly. ¡°You dropped him three times, you win!¡±

    ¡°Did you hear him say he yielded?¡± Linara asked, turning towards the attendant.

    The woman came to a stop, staring at Linara. ¡°I, um. I didn¡¯t.¡±

    She didn¡¯t even try to hide the lie. Of course, this man was supposed to be a favorite to go far, possibly even win. He wasn¡¯t supposed to lose to Linara. Nobody wanted a favorite to get upset in the first round. Of course he¡¯d be given some advantages.

    ¡°Right.¡± Linara said, and walked off the field.

 Chapter 2, Book 2: The City Of Mercenaries - Part 2

    With her first round opponent being one of the favorites to win the tournament, Linara found herself subjected to a series of incredibly easy fights. In the second round, she found an individual entirely encased in armor, clanking around and unable to keep up with her speed. Three sweeps at their armored legs dropped them three times, advancing Linara to the next round.

    In the third round, her lightly-armored opponent advanced on her with two swords, swiping her defensive thrusts out of the way as he closed the distance. Stepping forward, Linara delivered an elbow to his chin, knocking him down. He did not get up, and two attendants came into the arena to drag him off.

    The waits between each round became shorter as more and more entrants were eliminated, but it was still a long enough affair that by the time she walked out of her waiting room for the fourth time, she was hungry and the sky was dark. Torches topped the chest-high walls between the segments of the arena. A short fighter walked in after her, unarmed. She raised an eyebrow at him as she readied her weapon.

    The man slowly advanced on her, circling. He wore vambraces that left his hands exposed, and a simple cloth wrapping around his chest. Linara wasn¡¯t sure what to make of him, but given that he got to the fourth round, she figured she should expect something out of him.

    As he finally made his move, a simple step forward, she raised her spear to ward him off with a defensive thrust, and he moved his hands upwards from his sides. The movement was sharp and sudden, ready for her attack. Reflexively, she stepped back rather than attack. He smiled at her, then lunged.

    This time she committed to a light poke. He brought his hands up, pushing the point of her spear to the side with his open hand. Linara tried to muscle it back towards his body, but the man twisted, grabbing the shaft of her spear as it breezed past his torso, and pulled.

    Linara let go.

    The smile of victory on his face turned to surprise as he stumbled backwards, expecting a tug of war of some kind. Instead Linara surged forward, swinging her gauntleted fist at his face. He tumbled backwards, out of the way of her strike, before coming to his feet at a safe distance.

    They squared off again, Linara not yet drawing her dagger. He probably won by taking advantage of people being unused to disarming attacks and hand to hand combat on his level. Proper, organized warfare had no place for that sort of thing, and tavern brawls did not come close to proper martial arts.

    Hatharen warfare was far from proper, and she had taught Senral to be able to defend himself even if he had no weapons on hand. A one on one, unarmed fight was no stranger to her, and she¡¯d rather engage the man that way than let him surprise her with one of her own weapons.

    They moved towards each other, fists ready. With metal gauntlets, Linara¡¯s punches were more dangerous, and she had a height and reach advantage. The short man ducked and weaved, throwing a punch at her unprotected face.

    He must have sensed an opening, because he ducked low, hands out to the side, and tackled Linara to the ground, dropping both of them to dirt. Linara rolled, trying to pin the smaller man beneath her, but he slithered out of her grasp, coming to her feet. Did that count as a drop for each of them, or only for him? Scrambling to her feet, Linara faced him again, unsure.

    He came at her again, once more avoiding her fists despite her advantage. She started to doubt her overconfidence to fight him on this level as he repeated the earlier move, taking her to the dirt for the second time. As she slammed into the ground, she grabbed her knife off her belt and swiped out, landing a cut along his back as he rolled away.

    They both came to their feet again, Linara with her knife in her hand. Her opponent adjusted his stance, extending his arms into a more forward position before charging her again. He only needed to drop her one more time. Linara didn¡¯t know if the same applied to her, but she did know that she had drawn blood once. If she did that two more times without letting him drop her, she¡¯d win.

    Dodging his advance, she tried to take another swing at his torso, only for him to turn into the attack, her blade drawing a long line across his forehead as he ducked towards her, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and stepping under her.

    Using his leverage, he pulled her up and over, aiming to flip her over him and onto the ground. Halfway through the movement, she twisted, pulling out of his grasp as she flew through the air, pushing off the ground with one hand and landing in a crouch.

    ¡°Three cuts.¡± She said, standing up. During her brief flight, she had thrown her knife backwards, grazing the man¡¯s arm. He stared at her in shock before shrugging. Beaten and blooded, he walked off the field without any help, while Linara collected her weapons and returned to her waiting room.

    The middle-aged attendant was waiting for her. ¡°Please return early tomorrow morning so you can continue with the rest of the rounds.¡±

    ¡°How many more?¡± Linara asked. Her nose hurt from the first fight, and now her back was sore from being slammed on the ground repeatedly.

    ¡°Eight competitors.¡±

    Nodding, Linara walked back into the city.

    George and Patram, no longer in uniform, were waiting for her, apparently aware of the exit closest to her room. ¡°Seven to one on you winning the first fight! Absolutely massive!¡± George shouted, smiling as he trotted over to her.

    ¡°And what would the odds have been if I hadn¡¯t been one of the first to enter?¡± Linara asked. The man¡¯s child-like enthusiasm was difficult not to be swept up. His friend was also smiling.

    ¡°Not that much less, we figure. Five to one on you making it past the fourth round? Maybe four to one? We saved you the trouble of tiring yourself out in the slapfight beforehand.¡±

    Linara nodded, finding herself smiling. In the end, they were right - the order of her opponents didn¡¯t affect her that much, but might ruin it for the spectators. ¡°I¡¯m hungry. Buy me something nice to eat, since I made you so much richer.¡±

    George looked to Patram, who looked back at him. ¡°Well, George, are you going to take the lady to a fancy meal?¡±

    ¡°Well, yasee, I, um¡­¡±

    Patram laughed. ¡°George wants to say that he immediately bet everything on you winning the whole thing. Because he¡¯s that confident in you. Take it as a compliment that he¡¯s broke.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°And you? Were you less confident in me, and have some of your winnings to spare?¡±

    ¡°Not in the slightest.¡± He said, grinning. ¡°I¡¯m just more responsible and didn¡¯t bet everything I had to begin with. I¡¯ll buy dinner for the three of us, but it won¡¯t be anything nice. Win the whole thing tomorrow and we¡¯ll show you the best this city has to offer.¡±

    ¡°That sounds fair enough.¡± Linara nodded.

    ¡°It is not!¡± A high-pitched voice called out, and the three of them all turned to look in the direction it came from. ¡°First thing you do after getting past the first day is NOT to go and let people feed you! What¡¯s to say they didn¡¯t bet against you and are about to feed you something strange?¡±

    Linara instantly recognized the black-haired girl from the previous day and waved to her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, these two are the reason I¡¯m in this to begin with.¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± George spoke up. ¡°Linara didn¡¯t even know about this whole thing before we told her about it!¡±

    ¡°And we aren¡¯t stupid enough to let anyone do anything to her. Going to a place I trust, and not letting them see her until after we get food.¡±

    The girl came to a stop next to the three of them. ¡°Linara, will you train me?¡±

    ¡°Hey,¡± Patram started, pointing towards the girl. ¡°No solicitation of those still in the competition. You know the rules.¡±

    ¡°I met her yesterday, before the competition started. So we were already talking about this.¡± The girl countered.

    Linara frowned, opening her mouth to immediately deny the girl, but something stopped her. A memory. Ferene asking the same thing, months ago. She had trained Senral, personally. There was a special connection there, something she hadn¡¯t wanted to taint with the memory of teaching anyone else. Her occasional training with the knights and castle guards didn¡¯t come close to what would be needed.

    She needed to put that behind her. There were plenty of other things she had only done with Senral. This was something she didn¡¯t need to keep exclusive.

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    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± She said, nodding. The girl¡¯s face transformed, a massive smile breaking out as her eyes went wide in shock.

    ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t need to answer her now. At least wait until tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± George added. ¡°You¡¯ll get a bunch of people asking tomorrow. If you¡¯re willing to take someone on, you can find someone better than her.¡±

    Linara turned to him. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with her?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s wrong with me?¡±

    ¡°W-well.¡± George stumbled over his words. ¡°She¡¯s not fresh, can see that. How many years, how many times has she been passed over? She¡¯s short, and a girl. Not the best of the best, like you are.¡±

    ¡°Am I not also a girl?¡± Linara asked, stepping towards him and standing up fully.

    George stopped, looking up at her. ¡°Well, uh¡­not a human girl. I¡¯m just saying, not everyone is, you know, like you.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t need to be.¡± Linara said, turning towards the girl. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Sal.¡±

    ¡°Just Sal?¡±

    ¡°Just Sal, yeah.¡± She looked away from Linara, and her face went dark.

    Smiling at her, Linara reached out and rubbed Sal¡¯s hair. ¡°Well, Sal, why don¡¯t you come eat with us? I¡¯ll pay for your share. You can learn to trust these two, and they can learn that I don¡¯t care if I get the very best or not.¡±

    As she should have expected, the meal was fish, oddly coated in some kind of cooked crust. Linara took one bite and was surprised at how good it tasted, despite the oiliness of the dish.

    Patram pulled her inside after their table had already been served, a large platter sitting in the center with a pile of crusted fish cuts on it. The other three showed little restraint, and Linara followed suit.

    ¡°So, Sal, how did you meet Linara?¡± Patram asked, leaning back in his chair.

    The girl glared at him, then softened on seeing his expression. ¡°She was in the stands yesterday. We had a chat.¡±

    Linara took a break from eating to cut in. ¡°I told her that if I made it through the day, I¡¯d consider mentoring her.¡± The girl shot her a grateful look. Regardless of how relaxed the two looked right now, they were still guards and apparently Sal had broken some rules, so it was better for all of them if Linara went along with her lie. ¡°I thought about it and figured that traveling with someone else would be better than traveling alone. Teaching is a good way to stay sharp.¡±

    ¡°Well.¡± Patram said. ¡°I guess you have yourself an underling. Bavmont born and raised, are you?¡± He asked, turning back to Sal. The girl nodded as she ate.

    ¡°There¡¯s seven others tomorrow.¡± George cut in. ¡°Biggest threat is probably-¡° He stopped as Linara held a hand up.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather just go at it the same way as yesterday. Better than trying to remember all of that.¡±

    ¡°They certainly have people who watched that they will ask about you. Some of them may even try talking to your opponents. Six of them are either locals or regular entrants so they¡¯re all known to each other, leaving you and one other as the unknowns. Why not even the field by learning what you can about them?¡± George and Sal both nodded in response to Patram¡¯s words.

    Linara just shrugged, picking up another chunk of fish. ¡°It¡¯s more interesting this way.¡± She grinned at George. ¡°What good¡¯s a bet if you aren¡¯t at least a little worried about it?¡± Biting into her food, she watched his face twist in horror.

    In the round of eight, Linara made her opponent look far less competent than the man actually was.

    Under the morning sun, the two fighters stood across from each other in the dirt of the arena, the dividing walls removed to open up the full field. Both Linara and her opponent held spears, and approached each other in similar stances. When it came to both of them having similar height, the same reach, and an identical weapon, Linara¡¯s mastery of the weapon proved an insurmountable obstacle. Every trick her opponent tried, she was ready for. It was apparent to her that he was skilled, but she gave him no room to demonstrate his competence.

    There was only a short rest before she was called out again, to face her penultimate opponent. She found herself waiting in the arena, the crowd murmuring above her, her opponent nowhere in sight. She watched several attendants in their dark blue robes trot back and forth, before finally another woman was brought into the arena.

    Linara kept her face even, but she wanted to frown. Her opponent¡¯s slender body was wrapped in multiple belts holding an impressive number of throwing knives. Across her waist, from her right hip to her left shoulder, and two smaller belts around her thighs, all packed with knives. The woman stretched both of her arms upwards and yawned. She wore a sleeveless red shirt and tight pants, with no armor at all.

    Linara ran at her, as fast as she could. Despite witnessing the show of lethargy, Linara did not see the start of the motion of the first throw. Her opponent was already tumbling backwards, one dagger bouncing off Linara¡¯s spaulder.

    In a way, wearing armor worked to her detriment. Thrown knives were unlikely to penetrate her mail, encouraging her opponent to focus on her unarmored head, where an unfortunate hit could end her life. Holding her weapon with one hand, she raised the other in front of her face, just in time to deflect another knife. The woman¡¯s equipment gave her little chance of knocking Linara off her feet, so aiming for the face was the only path to victory.

    It felt like the woman came into the arena with the intent to kill her opponents.

    Watching the next movement, Linara threw her own knife. The Hatharen dagger was much longer than her opponent¡¯s proper throwing knives, but years of practice made Linara extremely accurate. It skewered the woman¡¯s outstretched wrist. The first cut.

    Without any change of pace, the woman did yet another acrobatic flip, still putting distance between Linara and herself, and throwing yet another knife, this time with her left hand. Unprepared, Linara barely moved her head to the side to avoid it taking her through the eye, instead feeling a sting as it sliced through the flesh of her ear.

    The increased size of the arena played into the woman¡¯s fighting style, allowing her to run away all she wanted, sliding around Linara¡¯s attacks with her agility. Twice Linara got in range, her weapon just barely missing as the woman twisted and flipped away from her, more like a stage performer than a fighter, but no less deadly as she continued to throw knives. The faster Linara ran, the harder it became to react to the incoming projectiles. Closing that final distance was the most dangerous, and the woman slipped away from her every time.

    Finding herself once more at a longer distance, Linara advanced, waiting for a throw, but none came. Her opponent no longer threw haphazardly, after the first ten attempts only getting one hit. Linara figured that the woman probably didn¡¯t have more than thirty knives total. Down a third or more of her ammo, and only getting one hit by surprising Linara with her ambidexterity, the math was against the unarmored woman.

    ¡°Hey!¡± The acrobat yelled across the arena. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    Keeping her focus on the woman¡¯s working hand, Linara responded. ¡°Linara.¡± At this distance, there wasn¡¯t an effective way for her to launch an unreactable surprise attack.

    ¡°Linara.¡± She said, grinning. ¡°You¡¯re too smart for this, you know? I can¡¯t fight you up close when I only have one arm, and this little runaway game isn¡¯t going in my favor.¡±

    ¡°What do you want to do about it?¡±

    ¡°This.¡± The woman held Linara¡¯s knife in her good hand. She must have kept it after pulling it out of her own wrist. With deliberate showmanship, she cut her shoulder, twice, and lightly tossed the weapon back towards Linara. ¡°Seems your blade cut me three times.¡±

    ¡°Seems like it did.¡± The crowd roared in anger, but Linara sighed. Too many factors were at play here. Did the woman want to tend to her injury instead of finishing the fight? Was she losing on purpose to win money on bets? Did she simply not care about the competition after getting to a certain point? Or did she actually think there was no chance to win?

    It was over, regardless. Linara returned to her waiting room, only to be told that they would be holding the archery competition before the final match, so she had some time to wait, but could not leave the building. Shrugging, she left her room and started to walk around the ring, looking for signs of the other competitors.

    After moving through a quarter of the circle and finding empty rooms, Linara finally located what she was looking for. The woman sat in a chair, her wounded arm held out to the side as a man stood over her, sewing her wrist back together.

    While Linara had only just glanced into the room to check who was inside, the occupant called out to her. ¡°Ah, the dark horse entrant. Come to have a look at your work?¡±

    ¡°I had some questions for you, actually.¡± Linara replied as she stepped into the room, leaning against the door frame.

    ¡°I¡¯ll trade you, then, since I also have a few.¡± She smiled up at Linara, showing her teeth.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you give up?¡±

    The woman gestured with her working arm to her disabled one. ¡°You took away my ability to win. Have to throw with both hands to beat someone like you. ¡®Sides, even if I beat you, somehow, my chances of winning the next one with only one hand are even worse, probably. Now, tell me, your first fight of the day, was it against a large man with a giant axe? Wears a stupid looking hat.¡±

    Linara shook her head.

    ¡°Ah, then you only took out one of the two people I¡¯m here for. If he¡¯s in the final round I¡¯ll be mad you beat me.¡±

    ¡°Who is the other?¡±

    ¡°First man you dealt with. I¡¯m told you broke his leg. Good work, that. Hate those two.¡±

    Linara felt a draw of curiosity. Entering a competition like this, risking her life by not wearing any armor, for revenge? ¡°What¡¯s your story, then?¡±

    ¡°Yours first.¡± She pulled her hand away from the surgeon as he finished. The man looked up, saw Linara, and pointed at her ear. She waved a hand dismissively.

    ¡°I was passing through and a pair of guards told me to enter, so they could bet on me. I worked at the royal palace in Olentor.¡±

    ¡°King¡¯s guard or something? Figures. Darian, your first opponent, I was part of his mercenary group. I started getting good, and he made me an offer. I refused it, and he kicked me out. Spun a story about it, too. Nobody else wanted to hire me, nobody wanted to work with me. Every six months I hope that I can meet him in the ring. Don¡¯t really care about winning, but I¡¯ve come pretty close every time anyway.¡± Standing up, she approached Linara. ¡°Name¡¯s Rella Galdran.¡±

    Shaking Rella¡¯s good hand, Linara nodded. ¡°I¡¯m Linara, from Aesuthal.¡±

    ¡°Never heard of it.¡±

    She made a gesture at her whole ear. ¡°Not a place humans know about. What about the man with the axe? My potential next opponent?¡±

    Rella¡¯s mouth turned down, and a low sound, something like a growl, escaping her throat. ¡°That bastard I want to kill. Can¡¯t touch him, not outside. He¡¯s a murderer, and third in command of the largest mercenary group. Told his commander about what happened, and I got laughed at. He killed my parents.¡± There was a determined look in her eyes, an anger. It reminded Linara of Ferene. Rella was fighting to kill her opponents. Everyone except her targets was just practice for the real thing. ¡°If you meet him, ruin his leg for me? Just like Darian. I¡¯d love to see him crawl.¡±

    Swallowing, Linara simply nodded.

 Chapter 2, Book 2: The City Of Mercenaries - Part 3

    Hard, dark eyes stared across the field at Linara. A man stood in front of her, relaxed but radiating a sense of tension. In one hand, he held a longsword, the other hanging free at his side. His ankle-length jacket was open at the front, revealing a plain shirt underneath. Despite not wearing any armor on his torso, his arms appeared unnaturally bulky, a hint of metal plates woven into the garment¡¯s sleeves. Pointing the tip of his sword at Linara, they began.

    Both combatants circled, slowly, cautiously. Linara felt the confidence of her opponent¡¯s stance. This wasn¡¯t the tall, axe-wielding man Rella had told her about, but someone else. Another unknown, or just simply not someone on the woman¡¯s short list? The swordsman across from her was her own height, slightly tall for a human but not a giant.

    He made the first move. A quick lunge, directly at her chest. If she didn¡¯t react, it would be a fatal blow. Linara spun her weapon, pushing the thrust to the side, then advanced, swinging the butt of her spear at her opponent¡¯s head. He brought up his free arm, catching the attack on his forearm, leaving no doubt that he was wearing armor under the sleeves of his coat. Stepping back, Linara narrowly avoided a swipe from the man¡¯s sword. The first exchange ended with neither of them at an advantage.

    Rather than waiting for him to make another move, Linara adjusted her grip on her spear, and swung wide, using the full length of her weapon. With both her full strength and the weight of her weapon behind the blow, when her opponent blocked the attack, he stumbled backwards under the force of it, leaving Linara open to advance on him, switching her grip to the middle of her weapon as she made a more controlled attack.

    With a smile, the man parried her thrust away from their bodies, and stepped forward. Linara took one hand off her spear and slashed her knife upwards at his chest, attacking as she drew the weapon. He intercepted it with his armored arm again, the sound of metal on metal filling the space between them. With all of their arms occupied, he attempted to headbutt Linara at the same time she kicked at his knee.

    The end result was him falling on her, knocking her down as she was only standing on one leg. Rolling away from him, she pulled herself back to her feet first, as he got up more slowly, changing his stance, facing her with one side forward, keeping his injured knee away from her.

    Once more, Linara wasn¡¯t sure if they had both scored a point, or only her opponent, but didn¡¯t have time to think about it as he launched a series of quick thrusts from his new position. The first one wasn¡¯t quite in range, but Linara pushed the next attack to the side, only for him to pull back and lunge forward again, and again. Stepping backwards, Linara gained more space, then mirrored the attack, from outside the man¡¯s range, with even more speed and power. She wasn¡¯t going to be defeated. He tried to replicate her defense, but the fourth attack slipped past his guard, the tip of his spear cutting through his shirt and the flesh underneath as he twisted to the side, barely avoiding having his ribcage pierced.

    Without any hesitation, he ran forward, making a large, angled slash at her from above. Linara caught the heavy blow on her spear, delivering a kick to the same spot she had cut him, sending him staggering backwards, holding his side. Not giving him a chance to get back up, she charged after him, spear in front of her, ready to make another stab at his torso.

    She was just barely too slow to notice the slight change in his expression. Every so slightly too late. A small twitch of the corner of his mouth, not enough to be called a smile. He brought his free hand up, redirecting the attack with his forearm. Adjusting his body ever so slightly, he maneuvered her spear between his arm and body, then trapped it there. If he had been off in his movements even slightly, he¡¯d have driven the tip into his chest or arm, but instead he caught her weapon with one arm, and brought the pommel of his sword into her side, smashing it against her armor. It wouldn¡¯t score a point, but she felt the impact.

    From there, the fight turned deadly. Linara let go of her spear, drawing her dagger and scoring a shallow cut across the man¡¯s leg as he tried to push her away with a kick. Seeing her with only the short weapon, he switched to a two-handed grip on his sword, and moved in with a heavy overhead slash.

    Her instincts told her to step back and throw her weapon at him, to score the last hit and win. However, she doubted that he was unaware of the possibility. If she didn¡¯t get the hit, she¡¯d be completely unarmed. So she didn¡¯t. Twirling to the side, Linara just barely dodged the attack, and lunged forward, her long-knife reaching but not quite connecting with her opponent as he stepped away. Linara chased, pushing herself forward and aiming a kick at his already weakened knee. He tried to move at the last second, but was still recovering from his earlier movement, and while Linara didn¡¯t cleanly hit him as she intended, he still tripped, falling to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, she made a long, shallow cut down his exposed back. Apparently he didn¡¯t have any armor there, either. These duelists were crazy.

    With the match over, she finally stopped focusing on the fight enough to hear the crowd. They were roaring, screaming her name. Turning away from her opponent, she looked upwards at the stands above the arena. People were on their feet, yelling, waving their hands in the air.

    She couldn¡¯t help but smile.

    Upon stepping into the city, Linara found herself swarmed. Young men, barely more than teenagers, clamored for her attention, some offering sums of money, others bragging of their bloodline or training, all begging her to mentor them. Older men spoke of the glory that could await her in the companies they represented. Others, in the wide range of ages in the middle, asked her what company she was from, and if she was recruiting.

    Looking over the mass of people that met her, she located Sal, standing off to the side with George and Patram. The young woman¡¯s face was drained of color as she stared at the crowd. The two guards, on the other hand, both wore wide smiles. Another lucrative day, it seemed. Pushing through the throng of people, she met the three, immediately handing Sal her spear and patting her on the shoulder. The action caused most of the hopeful youth to shy back. Turning, Linara addressed the remaining crowd.

    ¡°I have no interest in what any of you are offering. Get out of my sight. Anyone who is still here in ten seconds I will consider a challenger.¡± She turned back to her three companions. ¡°So, do I get a cut of your winnings?¡±

    Patram smiled at her. ¡°As a much richer man, I¡¯d happily give you a percentage of what I made. However, as a member of the city watch, I am very aware that fighters are not allowed to bet on themselves, even through third parties. Though I am very aware of how little you won in monetary value, since you are expected to be using your renown to move upwards in society. I can only say you are giving up your winnings, scaring them all off. All but one, it seems.¡±

    Turning, Linara found Rella standing behind her, arms crossed, waiting patiently. ¡°So, do I have to fight you again, or can we just talk?¡± The woman asked as Linara met her gaze.

    ¡°Depends. Are you here to recruit me?¡± Linara smiled as Rella stepped forward, joining their little circle.

    Returning the smile, Rella shook her head. ¡°Rather than your loyalty, I was wondering about setting up a business opportunity of sorts. A few words from you could benefit me immediately, and yourself further down the line. It¡¯s not something to discuss in public, though.¡±

    ¡°Then let us find somewhere more private to talk. I believe one of these two fine guards owes me the best meal in town, anyway.¡±

    George looked from Linara to Rella, putting on a wide smile, but his eyes continually shifted back and forth. ¡°I-If you would follow me, then.¡± Sal shifted slightly, keeping Linara between her and Rella.

    ¡°If it¡¯s a good place to talk to her, lead the way.¡±

    The so-called best food in the city was an underground establishment, with only a few tables set up. Linara had some doubts on the quality of the food, but it did give them the privacy to talk. She sat down with the two women as the guards went and talked to the staff. Sal stayed close to her side, leaving Rella facing the two of them.

    ¡°So, tell me about your business opportunity.¡±

    Rella crossed her legs and tilted her chair back. ¡°You¡¯ve got a newly earned, fresh reputation. Everyone wants in on it, as you¡¯ve already seen. You don¡¯t seem at all interested in joining a mercenary group. My reputation is in the dirt, and nobody wants anything to do with me, even though I¡¯d love to have the respect that I should have earned in the arena these last three years. I think we can help each other.¡±

    Frowning, Linara gave Rella her full attention. ¡°I¡¯m not familiar enough with how things work here to see what you are seeing in this situation.¡±

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    The front legs of the chair slammed down as Rella leaned forward. ¡°Endorse me. Make a statement. Say that I¡¯m trustworthy, and the lies about me aren¡¯t to be believed. Get a few notable people who want to work with you, and point them towards me, instead. If I just get started, I¡¯ll be able to build from there.¡±

    Linara tapped the table twice. ¡°Tell me two things.¡± Rella nodded, her eyes showing not just eagerness, but hunger. ¡°First, what do I stand to gain from doing this? And second, what are the lies that I have to say aren¡¯t true?¡±

    ¡°You will be the sponsor of whatever force I¡¯m able to assemble. Come back here, any time, and it¡¯s yours. I¡¯ll lead them to fight for you.¡±

    ¡°And the lies?¡±

    ¡°Darian says I¡¯m an assassin.¡±

    Linara raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is that bad?¡±

    Rella frowned, then looked away. ¡°It¡¯s¡­more complicated.¡±

    ¡°If I don¡¯t know what it is, I can¡¯t really say it isn¡¯t true, can I?¡±

    Rella tapped her fingers against the table, rapidly. ¡°The worthless dirt-eater spun a story that I use poison. Poisoned knives. Also that I take men into my bed in order to kill them, which is why you can¡¯t find anyone that has slept with me. Only explanation for it is that I killed them all. Poison isn¡¯t the way of Bavmont. You fight and win with your own power, so he slandered my ability, and then he made people avoid me, since anyone I get close to is just another target. I can¡¯t even get anyone to trust me. That¡¯s why I need an outsider.¡±

    Linara stared across the table for a moment, then looked at Sal. The girl met her gaze, and nodded once. ¡°Some say she¡¯s a creature from under the earth, and she¡¯ll skin men and eat their flesh while they are still alive.¡±

    ¡°I like pork. Cooked pork.¡± Rella said, glaring at the girl.

    The two of them abruptly looked at Linara as she laughed. ¡°I can tell you she¡¯s not a monster. I¡¯ve fought plenty, and they are all hideous, and far too dumb for that kind of deception. Reassure me that there isn¡¯t a hint of truth in all of that, though, will you?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. I have no interest in the men here, and if I was using poison, I¡¯d have won a tournament by now.¡± Her gaze did not leave Sal¡¯s face, and the younger girl looked away, leaning towards Linara. ¡°Speaking of nasty rumors, did your new trainee tell you why she¡¯s still looking for a mentor at her age?¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t.¡± Linara said, shrugging. ¡°I haven¡¯t fully decided on taking her with me or not, though, so tell me.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Sal shot to her feet, hands on the table. Linara placed a hand on the girl¡¯s shoulder and pushed her back down, just in time for George and Patram to show up. George took the open seat furthest from Rella, leaving Patram to sit next to her, which he did with only a short glance in her direction.

    ¡°She made a promise to her parents to get a mentor two and a half years ago, when she came of age. Promised that if she wasn¡¯t able to find one in a year, she¡¯d help them with fishing. Like a good little girl. Their only child.¡± Rella smiled, cruelly. ¡°Nobody wanted a fisher¡¯s daughter, and the year passed. But, oddly, she still hangs around the gates and shows up every tournament, looking for a master. Introduces herself without a last name. Whatever happened to Sal Dagan? I wonder about that.¡±

    With her hand on Sal¡¯s shoulder, Linara could feel the girl tense up, ready to strike. Her hands were balled into fists. As Linara tightened her grip slightly, Sal looked up at her. ¡°I¡­I ran away from them. I don¡¯t have a place to go back to, not in the city. I sleep in a cave nearby. I lied when I made that promise, I just wanted to get away. I am not going to spend my life fishing and I don¡¯t care what I have to do to avoid that.¡±

    Chuckling, Patram leaned forward. ¡°People just want an excuse to avoid someone. It¡¯s easier to believe that there¡¯s something wrong with someone and join in with others who avoid them, than take a risk, however small, that they might actually be whatever people say they are. This girl was disowned by her parents for breaking a promise, so you should never trust her. We all lied to our parents a few times at that age, didn¡¯t we? And why does the poisoner have so many enemies that are still alive and perfectly healthy? Just so we have everything laid out, George here is a gambling addict who has barely managed to stay out of debt, while I take money from smugglers.¡± Linara looked at Patram, raising an eyebrow. Meeting her eye, he nodded and continued. ¡°The food we are going to be eating here today should have been taxed when it was brought in. Someone labeled the meats as grain and nobody double checked.¡±

    Letting go of Sal, Linara placed both her hands on the table, looking at the group gathered around her. ¡°I¡¯ll say whatever Rella needs me to say, but it sounds more like she needs anyone to vouch for her. Are either of you two willing to join up with her?¡±

    Patram shook his head, but George looked over at Rella, then back at Linara. ¡°If she isn¡¯t using poison, and she isn¡¯t keeping me around as a snack, I could help her out. See more of the world than just this city. If she doesn¡¯t eat or kill me. All I¡¯m saying is that if I were getting to the final day in the arena multiple times, I¡¯d be celebrating it with someone, somewhere. Only a normal thing to do.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m married. I am simply not sleeping with anyone here. I keep my personal life separate from my professional life.¡±

    George pushed his lips together, and Linara turned to Sal. ¡°I¡¯m not going to come back here for some time. Do you really want to come with me?¡±

    ¡°What else would I do?¡± The girl asked.

    ¡°Could stay with Rella. Be another part of her - I mean, my - mercenaries. You would teach her, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± She asked, turning to the older woman.

    Before she could respond, Sal shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t care if I don¡¯t come back here. You were amazing, and I want you to teach me everything you can. I¡¯ll follow you wherever you end up going.¡±

    A server came by, pushing a heavily-laden cart. Instead of fish, there were cuts of pork and steak placed in the center of the table, and ears of corn. ¡°Farm down the river raises livestock and grows crops. Not much land, so it¡¯s expensive, but the best around.¡± Patram explained.

    ¡°And none of it was labeled correctly when it came through the gates, I take it?¡± Rella asked.

    ¡°Even an honest, hardworking man such as myself makes mistakes from time to time.¡± He smiled at her.

    That night, Linara paid for an extra room, keeping Sal close to her rather than letting the girl sneak out of the city to return to her cave. The next day she woke up and met with Rella, starting the preparations for setting up the woman¡¯s company. There were several wide, open spaces within the city walls for traveling warriors to set up tents, so that companies could stay together. For the purpose of recruiting, Linara now had a single tent in the corner of one of the smaller of these areas. Rella brought a list of individuals she wanted to recruit, and Linara sent Sal to track them down, one by one, and bring them to her, since the girl was familiar with where they were all staying.

    The first on their list did not show up, and the second entered, saw Rella, and immediately left, shaking his head before Linara could even say anything. The third also didn¡¯t respond to the summons, and the fourth turned out to be the bare-fisted fighter from the first day of the tournament. His smile faltered for a moment when he saw Rella, but he sat down at the table across from Linara and nodded at her. Misunderstandings were cleared up and he agreed to take part, joining Sal to fetch the next one on the list. As Rella had predicted, things got better from there. Later in the day, George joined them as well, and Linara¡¯s company, captained by Rella, grew larger and larger. By the time they reached the end of their list, word of what was happening had spread, and people were lining up outside their borrowed tent to ask to join.

    It was all going smoothly until Darian limped in, his face twisted in rage, to stare at the two of them. Leaning on his spear, he opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.

    ¡°Get out, Darian.¡± Rella snapped. ¡°Or I¡¯ll have someone break your other leg.¡±

    Snarling, he raised his free hand, pointing at Rella. ¡°A whore-lover like you has no right to steal from me!¡±

    Instantly, she vaulted over the table and was pressing a knife against his face, just below his eye. Linara stayed seated, watching. ¡°Commander.¡± She said, invoking the rank she had decided on for Rella.

    After a moment of hesitation, the woman stepped back, her weapon vanishing. She was not wearing her belts, but instead a long-sleeved, button-up shirt, apparently still with places for her to store her knives. Rather than sitting down, she stayed standing, a pillar of tension.

    ¡°Darian, am I to assume you have a complaint for me about my recruiting methods?¡±

    ¡°Yes, you long-eared freak! Three of my own men have signed on to your total farce of a company! An outsider and-¡°

    ¡°Commander, if you were going to cut off one of his ears, which one would you pick?¡±

    The words didn¡¯t sound like her own. Deep inside her, she felt anger, rage. This man was here, not only continuing his previous disagreement with Rella, but insulting her, someone he didn¡¯t even know? ¡°The left one, I think. He holds his shield on that side.¡±

    ¡°If he insults me again, give me the ability to call him a one-eared freak.¡± Despite Rella facing away from her, Linara was sure she could feel the woman¡¯s smile. Somehow, Darian¡¯s face turned even redder, but he shut his mouth. ¡°You being unable to control your own men is not my problem. I suggest you return to wherever you are staying and reconsider your methods of addressing the situation.¡±

    Jaw-clenched, the man turned and limped out of the tent, as fast as he had entered. Frederick, the unarmed fighter, stepped inside after he left. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that, Captain Linara.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. How many do we have, in total?¡±

    ¡°Thirty four.¡± Rella said.

    ¡°Good enough. I¡¯m going to leave you with that. Spend the rest of the day organizing however you like. I intend to leave this city by nightfall. Where¡¯s Sal?¡±

    ¡°Talking with some of our younger recruits.¡±

    Linara left the tent, looking around the area and finding the girl sitting on a stone bench, next to a boy who looked to be slightly older. The two were talking excitedly. Linara walked over, loudly, and called out to her. The girl shot to her feet, turning, her face red. ¡°Get ready to leave tonight.¡±

    ¡°Tonight?¡± She glanced for a second at her new friend, then back up at Linara. ¡°Not in the morning?¡±

    ¡°First lesson I¡¯m going to teach you is that duty doesn¡¯t have a schedule. You may need to fight, or march, at any time. So we march at night.¡±

    Her frown instantly turned into a wide grin. ¡°Yes!¡± She said, her voice almost squeaking in excitement.

 Chapter 3, Book 2: Sins of the Past - Part 1

    ¡°What¡¯s the second lesson?¡± Sal asked.

    Looking back at her, Linara was struck by a brief sense of guilt. Yesterday, they left the city at sundown, as Linara had planned. In the middle of the night, the two took a short break, and Linara shared some of the provisions she had with the girl before continuing the journey. The sun was rising now, and she hadn¡¯t allowed her new apprentice to truly sleep. Yet despite all of that, the young woman still walked, legs shaking, sheathed sword on her belt, pack of miscellaneous things on her back.

    ¡°Do you know what happens after you are forced to travel at random notice?¡± Linara asked, coming to a stop.

    Taking a few extra steps, Sal came to a stop beside Linara, leaning over, hands on her knees. ¡°Ah, you get to lay down and sleep? Please tell me that¡¯s the answer.¡±

    Linara smiled. The guilt was short lived because she had given Sal the option to stay with Rella. ¡°Unfortunately, no. The sun is setting and the alarm is raised. The enemy was sighted. Everyone has to get their gear and head out immediately. Half a day¡¯s march later, with no sleep, they encounter the enemy. Stand and draw your weapon.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Linara stepped away from Sal, taking a distance three paces away, holding her spear in both hands. ¡°The first lesson is that duty doesn¡¯t have a schedule. You must be ready to march or fight at any time. You¡¯ve only done the first part of that. You need to do the second before I can teach you the second lesson.¡±

    The half-smile on her face shifted first to shock, then horror, then resignation. Dropping her bag and taking up a fighting stance, Sal drew her sword. The weapon caught Linara¡¯s eye.Wide and curved, with a single edge, the flat side had a series of metal rings loosely attached. As Sal assumed her stance, the rings rattled, clanging loudly against the back of the blade.

    Ignoring the confusing loudness of the weapon, Linara nodded to Sal. ¡°Try your best to hit me.¡±

    Deprived of sleep, exhausted from the march, her legs shaking, Sal yelled, rushing forward, her sword held high. She swung at Linara to a clattering of metal rings, only for her weapon to slide through air as Linara stepped to the side. As Sal stumbled forward with the momentum of her attack, Linara tapped her on the back, right between the shoulders. Spinning around, Sal came at Linara again, this time with a horizontal slash. Catching the strike on her spear, Linara raised an eyebrow at the force of the blow. Sal was short and skinny, and the attack carried far more force than Linara would have expected. Stepping back, Sal panted heavily, looking at Linara through her bangs.

    ¡°Is that it, Sal?¡±

    Closing her eyes, the young woman stood upright, taking a deep breath before meeting Linara¡¯s gaze. With renewed motivation, she presented her side as she faced Linara, raising one foot and holding her sword over her head, one hand extended forward. Raising an eyebrow, Linara waited for an attack.

    Sal slid forward, putting her raised foot down as she moved, loudly, but smoothly, flicking her sword down and cutting upwards from below, a flowing strike aimed at Linara¡¯s legs. The movement was precise, but slow, and as Linara intercepted it, she found it lacked the same force as Sal¡¯s second attempt. This time, Linara pushed back, knocking the girl off balance and sending her into the grass.

    ¡°That¡¯ll be enough. Let¡¯s rest.¡±

    Without moving, Sal muttered her thanks, entirely spent.

    Over the next four days, Linara learned a lot about both Sal, and herself.

    The young woman possessed good eyes. If Linara showed her a stance, the girl was able to copy it almost perfectly just from seeing it. This applied to movements, as well. This explained everything wrong with her fighting style.

    Sal copied movements without understanding them. A stance, a strike, a parry. Her form was perfect, but she used the wrong things at the wrong times, and to make matters worse the wrong moves for her unusual weapon. Wielding it herself, Linara was momentarily shocked at how heavy the blade was for its size. The rings she had thought were for decoration and noise carried a good deal of weight, and as they all shifted during a swing, moved the weight further away from the wielder¡¯s hand, adding power to the cut.

    The flowing movements that Sal used did not lend themselves to such a heavy weapon. The girl was very practiced in them, and Linara figured that she must have spent a lot of time observing someone who used the style, given how many different forms Sal was able to use, and her ability to move from one to the next.

    Teaching Sal did not remind Linara of teaching Senral. Not in the slightest. Her hesitation over the fear of reliving those memories seemed laughable. Sal was skilled, eager to learn, and quick to pick up on anything, but her ability to apply what she was taught properly was a mess. Making her do her favorite forms bare-handed, or even holding Linara¡¯s knife, demonstrated to both of them the speed and flexibility of the fighting style, but Sal was oddly attached to her weapon. Asking her to replicate the attacks of Linara¡¯s final opponent from the tournament, Linara felt she demonstrated how much stronger the weapon was when used with a more simple, straightforward style, but Sal stubbornly objected, claiming that despite her ability to perfectly replicate the motions, they ¡®didn¡¯t feel right.¡¯

    Despite it all, Linara felt the girl was making progress. She had to limit herself heavily, and give Sal clear signs of when she would be aggressive, or when she was waiting for Sal to expose herself with a poorly thought out attack, but Sal started to read Linara¡¯s posture to an extent, and was slowly starting to make better choices about which of her surprisingly massive collection of memorized moves would allow her to take the upper hand in each scenario.

    ¡°Wait.¡± Sal spoke up on the fifth day as they walked in the fading light of the sunset. ¡°Have you been on this road before?¡±

    ¡°No, not this specific one. Why?¡±

    ¡°I heard of something, and it should be near here. I want to look at it. It shouldn¡¯t take very long, if it¡¯s real at all.¡±

    Nodding, Linara followed as Sal took the lead, continuing to follow the road for some time before finding a path leading off to the side, up a hill. The grass wasn¡¯t entirely trampled flat, but had the obvious sign of being walked on by the occasional passerby. Following the trail, the two of them walked up the hill, around an outcrop of bushes, to find the object Sal sought.

    A statue, slightly taller than Linara, overgrown with vines, stood where it would have looked down on the main road, if not for the hedges that blocked the view. Carved from stone, the man stood, resting the hilt of his sword on his shoulder. Linara wasn¡¯t sure how long the weapon was supposed to be, because the upper part had fallen off, the stub sticking out slightly on the other side of the statue¡¯s head. His other hand was over his eyes, to shade them from the sun as he stared intently at the bush in front of him.

    ¡°Neat!¡± Sal exclaimed, jogging over to the statue. ¡°People call it The Watcher, a statue of a great warrior from thousands of years ago. I thought they were joking, but it looks that old.¡±

    Frowning, Linara stepped forward to take a closer look at the statue. A lot of features were worn away, or never there to begin with. The face was mostly blank, with only two notable indents for eyes and a small stub where the nose should be, with no sign of a mouth. If The Watcher was supposed to be wearing armor or just regular clothes, Linara couldn¡¯t tell.

    The hilt of the sword, however, was not made only of stone. The stone took on the basic shape of a hilt and the base of the blade, but the crossguard was made of metal. Something about it drew Linara in, and she stood on the tips of her toes to get a closer look, not wanting to touch the ancient statue. The metal of the crossguard was not rusted black with age, but made from black, Hatharen metal. Just like her dagger.

    The other oddity were the spikes on the crossguard, also fashioned from metal. Linara had seen those same kind of spikes before. On Ferene¡¯s sword.

    ¡°What else do you know about this statue? Why is it here? Who made it?¡±

    ¡°Probably made by whoever lived down there.¡± Sal said, pointing behind the statue.

    Her hand simply pointed at the hill. ¡°Down where?¡± Linara asked.

    ¡°Uh, I¡¯m told there¡¯s an old abandoned building behind it. If you pay your respects to The Watcher, you will have the strength to fight off any bandits you meet on the road. But if you steal from his home, you will pay the price.¡± The girl ran up the hill, cresting the top and pointing down the other side. ¡°There it is!¡±

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Following her, Linara reached the top and looked downward. There was indeed a large stone structure in the valley beyond, even more overgrown than the statue. ¡°There is no way that anything of value is still in there, look how old it is. Let¡¯s take a look.¡±

    ¡°Why would we look in there when you just said there¡¯s nothing of value to take?¡± Sal asked.

    The black metal and the hilt design bothered Linara. ¡°I don¡¯t want treasure, I want information. We might learn something from looking at old stone.¡±

    ¡°How does looking at old stone teach us anything?¡±

    ¡°Same way watching other people fight teaches you how to do silly dance moves with a sword. Lesson four - are we on four? - is that you do what Linara tells you to.¡±

    It turned out that Sal carried a lantern in her pack, allowing the girl to light up the vine-covered entrance as Linara walked through.

    The building was only a single story, though it stretched out to the sides, filling the valley. Inside, Linara stepped into a large entry hall with a stairway leading downwards in the center. Multiple doorways leading into other parts of the ground floor broke up the walls, the doors missing.

    ¡°This place is old.¡± Sal said, putting emphasis on the last word. ¡°Like, older than Bavmont. Older than kingdoms.¡±

    ¡°It might have been built that long ago, but I don¡¯t think it was abandoned until around a hundred or so years ago, maybe two hundred.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s old.¡± Sal replied.

    Linara shrugged. Aesuthal existed for thousands of years. It was hard to think of other places as old, having grown up there. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving.¡± She said, looking down the stairs.

    ¡°Is it safe to go down there?¡± Holding the lantern high, Sal illuminated the stairwell, stone steps with the occasional root pushing through. ¡°The ceiling won¡¯t fall in on us or anything?¡±

    The floor here, and the ceiling for the lower level, seemed to be made of much thicker stone than the stairs. ¡°If the roof above us hasn¡¯t broken, I don¡¯t see why the floor would.¡± Linara said, taking the first step down.

    ¡°Because it has more stuff on it!¡± Sal joined her in walking down, despite the protests.

    Rather than a simple basement, the area below turned out to be a cavern of some sort, carved into a proper room, with more doors. Regular sized openings lead off to the sides, but directly ahead was a much larger, double door. Linara felt drawn to it. She wasn¡¯t searching for hidden valuables left in side rooms, but the purpose and history of this place. She wanted to find a central room. Curiosity drove her forward. Finding small amounts of Hatharen metal would be rare, but not unheard of. Her people occasionally ventured into human lands. Having the metal incorporated into a human statue, however, suggested something more than a trinket left behind. It had been forged that way, on purpose.

    The double doors resisted at first, but a firmer push forced one open, allowing Linara to slide through, Sal behind her. The air in the empty hallway tasted stale, but the two pressed forward regardless. Another double door, this one opening far more easily, pushed into a cavernous chamber. On the opposite wall, offset from the center, a regular sized door stood, unassuming yet drawing Linara¡¯s attention. The chamber held stone tables near the walls, leaving the center clear. None of that interested her.

    The door was locked. Examining the lock, Linara found it rusted, and a simple kick broke off whatever it used to hold the door in place. Beyond was a small chamber, old but empty bookshelves lining one wall, a wooden table in the center, tilted due to the loss of one leg. Yet under the light of Sal¡¯s lantern, Linara¡¯s eyes were drawn to a pattern on the far wall. A horizontal strip of Hatharen metal, embedded in the stone. If she hadn¡¯t seen that metal before, been around it all her life, it would have looked like a discoloration, not dissimilar from other darker markings on the wall. Walking around the desk, she approached it, hesitating. Breathing in - feeling the dust she had stirred up fill her nose - she reached out and pushed on it.

    Feeling it shift slightly, she moved her hand to one end, pushing in, causing the piece of metal to slide into the stone, giving her a place to put her hand. She could feel the thinness of the wall, and pulled on it. She felt an entire column shift towards her.

    ¡°Um,¡± Sal said, watching from the other side. ¡°Are you sure you want to do that?¡± Linara ignored her, bracing herself against the solid section of the wall, placing both of her hands in the opening, and pulling again. Slowly, bit by bit, she pulled the stone of the wall out, a section reaching from floor to ceiling, just wide enough for her to slip through the opening it left if she turned sideways. Which she did, Sal making a low whine as she scrambled after her teacher.

    Even smaller than the previous room, this chamber held a single object in the center. A stone coffin lay before them. Stepping forward, Linara stared down at it, her heart beating. ¡°You¡¯re going to open it, aren¡¯t you?¡± Sal asked.

    Why was this hidden so deep inside? The room felt ancient. Older than the upper part of the structure. ¡°Help me get the lid off.¡±

    Gently, the two of them lifted the top off the coffin, sliding it to the side.

    Sal got a glimpse inside first, and screamed, stepping backwards and falling over, her lantern hitting the floor but thankfully not breaking. Linara tried to help her up, but the girl shook her head, staying on the floor, her eyes locked on the coffin in the center of the room. Picking up the lantern, Linara took a look inside.

    A Hatharen stared back up at her.

    Linara froze, but soon saw it was a trick of the dim light. The corpse did not stare back at her- its eyes were closed. Eventually, she let out her breath, and was able to look at the rest of the body. Perfectly preserved, hands crossed over the chest, the Hatharen lay in the coffin, completely still, face frozen with a blank, peaceful expression. The skin was pale, almost transparent. Stiff, short brown hair topped the head, revealing the two long ears sticking out.

    ¡°Is..is it alive?¡± Sal asked, slowly standing up, but not coming any closer. Leaning over, Linara reached out and brushed the forehead of the Hatharen, gently. It blinked.

    Her body moved without any thought. In an instant, she pulled her hand back, stepping away and drawing her knife, all in one fluid motion. The spear on her back would be useless here.

    The Hatharen coughed, thin, withered arms moving to grasp the edges of the tomb and pull themself into a sitting position. The dead rose from the grave and looked at Linara, confusion on their face.

    Then it spoke. The voice came out weakly, almost squeaky, like a rusted hinge. A single word, in the Hatharen language. ¡°Who.¡±

    ¡°If yer headin northly, follow th¡¯ road, don¡¯t try to take a shortcut through th¡¯ forest. I know some of ya lone travelers hava habit of doing tha kind o¡¯ thing, but I¡¯ll tell ya. Ya go inta there, ya ain¡¯t comin out. Nobody does.¡±

    Ferene wanted to frown, but nodded at the man¡¯s words. He had let her sleep in a corner of his chicken coop, the roof keeping the rain off her during the night. She had woken up with two of the birds poking at her, shortly before the rooster yowled, setting off a chain of noise from all of the fowl.

    ¡°Ic¡¯n tell ya ain¡¯t listenin.¡± The old man said, peering at her with his one good eye. His left eye was closed, but the right one stared intently at whatever was in front of him, in this case Ferene. ¡°Cursed woods. Can¡¯t count how many tried to push through and didn¡¯ come back the next season. Lots, over the years. They never listen. Ya ain¡¯t in a hurry like them, so don¡¯ go tryin to cut through the woods. Monsters in there, gramps told me, rest his soul.¡±

    Ferene nodded again, and turned to the road. She didn¡¯t even know what forest the man was talking about. She followed the road north, just like she had for the past week. Riverhill, and her father, were far behind her. She did not know how long it would take her to reach Olentor, and she didn¡¯t ask. She did, however, ask about Linara. Nobody had seen anyone with ears like hers, so she figured she was still too far south. Nothing to do but keep going north.

    The further north she went, the more the grasslands faded, more and more hills popping up, becoming rockier and rockier. At first the road crested the rises, but soon gave up, instead winding between them in long, gentle bends. Ferene crested a few of these herself, before finding the climbs more effort than they were worth.

    As the road curved back around one such rocky hill, heading straight out in front of her for what felt like the first time in three days, Ferene was greeted with a sight. Instead of another hill, the ground beside the road gently fell away, a barren stretch of land separating the road from what seemed to be a wall of darkness cast by massive trees with thick branches.

    Ferene knew monsters. The Hatharen would not let any monsters into the human lands.

    Another thought crept into her mind. If they had let monsters in, someone had to deal with them. A Hatharen. Or at least, something close enough to a Hatharen to be able to fight.

    That was a terrifying thought. How many were in there? Three? Ten? A hundred? Looking away from the road, she saw the line of trees stretching far to the east.

    Ferene specialized in running. She could run away, if things got bad. The mountain wall began far northeast of here, where the land met the ocean, and curved north and west. A stronghold should be there, somewhere, if she needed help.

    If there were demons in the forest at all.

    So Ferene entered the forest.

    Here and there, light penetrated the canopy, leaving the forest floor heavily shaded but not entirely dark. Ferene advanced slowly, carefully, on the lookout for any signs of large creatures. She could hear the skittering of rodents and the flutter of birds retreating from her invasion of their domain, but nothing that stood out as dangerous. By the time she lost sight of the open daylight behind her, she still hadn¡¯t encountered anything of note.

    Despite the lack of evidence, something about the forest bothered her. It lacked the feel of a truly untouched environment. The underbrush wasn¡¯t thick enough, lacking build up. The forest looked lived in, but no obvious signs were present. The trees were not trimmed or kept, but there weren¡¯t enough fallen branches. Were they collected for firewood? The more she looked, the more she felt certain that something was here, hiding, waiting.

    Did she turn and run, before catching a glimpse of what lived here? She could believe that people did not come out of the forest alive. Should she make it safe? Drawing her sword, she gripped the hilt, the feeling of it in her fingers, the weight of it in her arms calming her down, pushing the fear away. Ferene stood up straight, setting her jaw, and taking another step forward.

    Something slammed into her from behind, violently. She fell, face first, onto the ground. It had gotten behind her, somehow. She pushed herself to her feet, turning, trying to find her attacker. Once more, she was hit in the back, harder this time, and she fell again, her sword falling from her hands.

    She wasn¡¯t given the chance to run. She felt a weight press against her back, pinning her to the ground. The forest would claim another overconfident victim.

 Chapter 3, Book 2: Sins of the Past - Part 2

    Footsteps all around her signaled the approach of more of Ferene¡¯s enemy. A few pokes to her back, and something shoved a pole under her side and flipped her onto her back. She noticed a shadow looming over her in the darkness ¨C a face staring down, features hidden by shadow. Long ears stuck out to the sides of the head.

    The person looking down at her was a Hatharen.

    This felt oddly familiar.

    Pushing herself upwards, the Hatharen she could only assume was her attacker stepped back, brandishing a wood-tipped spear in her face. She held up her hands in surrender, looking around. Three more surrounded her, all of them dressed in clothes seemingly made from tree bark. They held their weapons uneasily, looking at her with worry on their faces.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Ferene asked. Hatharen, in human lands, attacking humans. Were these the monsters of the forest? Why were they here?

    The one in front of her lowered their weapon, face breaking into a smile. ¡°Grandparents will want to hear this!¡± They spoke the human language, causing Ferene to look at the speaker in surprise. The other four nodded, and Ferene immediately found herself being hauled to her feet, in the familiar position of being surrounded by much taller Hatharen, though this group was thinner and less bulky than those in Yonthal. They were not muscle-bound warriors but instead looked frail and undernourished.

    One of them carried her sword, and while she did not ask for it back, Ferene did keep an eye on the one holding it. He, like the rest of the group, was male. That stood out to her as another oddity, as they led her deeper into the forest. It wasn¡¯t long before they arrived at some wooden structures built around the trees. There was no clearing, just logs suspended by ropes, with more logs placed on top of them, creating floating cover. Beds of dirt covered by an odd fabric showed sleeping locations. Rather than the simple living conditions of the Hatharen Stronghold, these looked outright crude and primitive, if inventive.

    ¡°Grandmother!¡± The leading man called out, and instantly several shapes dropped down from the trees above. Six more men, wearing similar bark outfits, some holding wooden spears while others held bows. They all stared at her, then one approached the leader of the group that captured her. A whispered conversation took place that Ferene wasn¡¯t able to pick up on, but she held her head high, keeping an eye on her sword. She still had her second sword and her knife on her waist, and a second knife in her boot, if she really needed to fight.

    ¡°You brought an outsider here.¡± The newcomer said, frowning.

    ¡°Grandmother needs to see her. A female, from our people, from outside! She had weapons. She looked like she could fight.¡± Her capturer said, gesturing to the one that held her sword.

    ¡°No.¡± One of the others said, speaking up as they stepped towards Ferene¡¯s group. ¡°Women would never fight. That¡¯s for us to do. He just has long hair and a pretty face.¡±

    The five that captured her all turned to look at Ferene, apparently considering this new option. Something was wrong with these Hatharen. ¡°Why not just ask me?¡± She spoke up, causing the newer Hatharen that had stepped forward to get a look at her to suddenly step back. They reacted like shy animals.

    ¡°Strip him!¡± Someone yelled.

    Instantly, her short sword was in her hand, and she jolted backwards and to the side, a quick step that put her beside the one holding her sword. She didn¡¯t want to hurt these Hatharen, no matter what was wrong with them, and she was certain something was off here, but she wasn¡¯t going to let them do whatever they wanted.

    A female voice suddenly called out. ¡°Stop!¡± The word instantly caused all of the men to freeze, then fall into a sitting position, even the one Ferene was threatening. She awkwardly let go of him, retrieving her large sword from him as he sat down.

    A Hatharen woman stepped into view, wearing an elaborate flowing dress. ¡°Sister!¡± One of the men called out. She nodded, then stepped towards Ferene.

    ¡°You would mistake this girl for one of you?¡± The woman asked, turning to look at the first of the Hatharen that made the accusation. Apparently she had been watching, waiting to step in. The one under her scrutiny shook his head, and she laughed. ¡°What is your name, female warrior?¡±

    ¡°Ferene.¡± Seeing that the threat had passed, Ferene sheathed her weapons, sizing up the woman. Just like the men, she was thin and willowy.

    She smiled at Ferene. ¡°I am Nehnal, of the sixth circle. Come with me, the first circle will want to meet with you.¡± Nehnal held out a hand.

    Confused, but curious, Ferene nodded and took the offered hand. Nehnal¡¯s fingers were soft, and it reminded Ferene of Velan. The men stayed on the ground, watching as Ferene was lead away.

    Nehnal showed her to a staircase leading upwards, and the two ascended, finding more wooden platforms suspended between the trees. The structures were more refined here, though still mostly bare. Thin walls of planks connected floors to roofs, forming makeshift houses, lifted between the branches of the trees. Inside one of these Ferene found a group of women, looking up from their chairs as Nehnal and Ferene entered. The younger woman bowed slightly, letting go of Ferene. ¡°Grandmothers, the men found this woman warrior entering the forest.¡±

    ¡°Leave us, child.¡±

    Nehnal looked at the one that spoke, opened her mouth, and then shut it, quietly leaving without another word. Ferene found herself alone with the three Hatharen women. One of them spoke to her in the Hatharen language, the first time Ferene had heard it since coming into the forest. ¡°I do not speak the language of your people.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡± One of the others barked. ¡°Our people, but not yours? None of us belongs to them, it seems.¡±

    ¡°You are not here to bring us back, then, child?¡± The third - the one who had sent Nehnal away - asked.

    ¡°I was on the road to the south, and a human told me there are monsters in this forest. I thought they might be the ones from beyond the mountains. I had to check.¡± Ferene still didn¡¯t know what was going on, but she sensed danger. This was not a regular group of Hatharen. How did they come to be here? How long had they been here? If these were grandmothers, it could be over a thousand years.

    ¡°No monsters here, just us. We came here to get away from the monsters.¡±

    Ferene locked her eyes on the one that spoke. Long, curly brown hair fell down to her shoulders, and despite the clothes she wore being nearly identical to Nehnal¡¯s, her exposed arms were just like those of the Hatharen Ferene had met in the stronghold. ¡°I was told that monsters would kill anyone who entered. I entered, and your men attacked me. What happened to the humans that tried to come through here?¡±

    ¡°We told the men to drive them off.¡±

    ¡°You killed them.¡±

    The one talking stood up, coming to her full height in front of Ferene. ¡°We defended our territory from invaders, just as any human would do! We had a deal with the local lord, to prevent anyone from entering. At some point he forgot about it, and humans started showing up. It is our right to defend ourselves.¡±

    A chill ran up Ferene¡¯s spine. This was the unclaimed land. There was no local lord. There were no castles, cities, or towns nearby. The hermit on the road was the only human for days of travel. ¡°How long ago was that?¡±

    A blank look crossed the woman¡¯s face for a moment, and she turned to one of comrades. ¡°That was when we first came here, wasn¡¯t it? How long ago was that?¡±

    ¡°No, it was after our first children. Only two thousand years ago.¡±

    Ferene¡¯s head was spinning. ¡°He died!¡± She yelled. ¡°He died and everyone who ever knew him died! There is no local lord, there¡¯s a road and hills and an old man who owns chickens! You¡¯ve been killing people who were trying to pass through the forest instead of taking the long road around.¡± Her hand twitched. She wanted to draw her sword. It was the same as with her father. These people were just stupid, lost in their own world. Except instead of being immersed in studying plants, these women had isolated themselves from the outside world.

    ¡°Calm down, girl. You don¡¯t need to fight anymore. Stay with us. The women here don¡¯t fight. We make the men do that, but even they don¡¯t need to do it often. A few humans now and then are a small price to pay. Far better than fighting the real monsters.¡±

    Ferene spun, facing the one that spoke. She wanted to yell, but a thought stopped her. Instead, she let out her breath. ¡°You are deserters, aren¡¯t you? You ran away. Why?¡±

    The one who stood up sank back into her chair. ¡°The six of us were tired of fighting, endlessly, forever. It was only a matter of time until one of us died out there. Why do that? We want to live in peace.¡±

    The words calmed her down. The situation was not unlike Tahrean, except that they would not have been allowed to stay out of the fight the same way. Running away made sense, to some extent. ¡°You could be living in peace with the humans, instead of killing the ones that come here. There are other Hatharen who live among them. You wouldn¡¯t need to treat your men so poorly, they don¡¯t have to fight either.¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°We are the heart of our society, the heart of our race. Men are interchangeable tools to have children. A woman can have a child every few hundred years. Men are far more reusable.¡±

    Tahrean had talked about this. ¡°Where are the three that came here with you? Are they down below with the others?¡±

    ¡°All are equal.¡± Another of the elders said. ¡°Seniority changes nothing. Even you, an outsider, would have the same privileges as us.¡±

    ¡°Even if I can¡¯t have children?¡± Ferene asked. One of them showed shock, while the others showed concern. ¡°My mother was a human. I¡¯m even less useful to you than the men down below. Neither your society or the Strongholds have a place for someone like me.¡±

    The three of them exchanged looks, then nodded to each other. ¡°You are an unfortunate child. We can only hope that you find peace on your journey. It would be better for everyone if you keep our lives here a secret, because we will fight to defend ourselves. Our daughters may not have known war, but the three of us remember.¡±

    Like most Hatharen, they were stubborn and unreasonable. Even after potentially thousands of years of isolation, they stuck to tradition and refused to look at things any other way. Ferene did not have the words to convince them otherwise. Perhaps someone else might. Sathar, Taradira, or Relgren. If anything, Taradira should know they were here. Add them to her book. Ferene turned and left, navigating her way back to the forest floor.

    On the way there, Nehnal intercepted her, along with another woman. ¡°This is my sister, Cenli, of the fifth circle. I told her about you, and she was interested in hearing more. Can you tell us stories from the outside?¡±

    Shaking her head, Ferene answered them. ¡°I¡¯m not staying here.¡± The two of them frowned at her, looking confused. ¡°There¡¯s too much to explain. If you want to know about the outside, ask one of the men - the oldest men - to teach you how to fight. The outside world is right there. It is dangerous, far more dangerous than your life in here, but there are people outside, good people and bad people. All sorts of things to see and learn. I used to hate it out there, but I don¡¯t any more.¡± With that, she pushed past them. Linara had set her on the path that led her to understanding the world, seeing the good in people, seeing that there was more to it all than just killing. More than anything, Ferene wanted to find her and thank her, learn more about her, repay her for that. The younger Hatharen here might not feel the same as their parents, but it was their choice if they wanted to stay in isolation or leave. Ferene could not make that choice for them.

    Linara rarely felt true fear. There was being nervous before a fight, uncertain of the outcome, but accepting of any result. There was worry about if her choices were the right ones, and being ready to regret having made the wrong one. Those were different than being rooted in place, unable to move, as a Hatharen rose from the dead in front of her, the rag-like remains of the clothing wrapped around the corpse falling off, partially disintegrating just from their wearer sitting up. Outline of ribs clearly visible under its skin, the once-dead Hatharen stared at Linara, dark blue eyes locked on to hers, and repeated the question.

    ¡°L-Linara. Aesuthal.¡± She said, her mouth feeling dry. Not as dry as the corpse she was talking to, that would be impossible. As impossible as a corpse coming back to life.

    ¡°Water.¡± It croaked, extending a hand towards her.

    ¡°S-Sal. Water.¡± Linara switched back to human language, extending a hand to the girl, who was pressing herself against the wall of the room, eyes wide in terror. Slowly, she handed a jug to Linara, who opened it before giving it to the thing in the coffin.

    It drank. In front of her eyes, the corpse transformed. By the time it handed the empty jug back to her, it looked a lot less dead. Still mostly skin and bones, but no longer sickly white, transparent skin. It smiled at her, the skin on its face no longer dry. Then it raised its arms and stretched. ¡°Linara.¡± It - he? - said, looking back at her. ¡°I am Grathen. Why have you awoken me?¡±

    Grathen. Linara had never heard the name before. ¡°I was looking for answers.¡± She didn¡¯t know what was going on, but he did not look dangerous. Rather than a moving corpse, he looked weak and fragile. On looks alone, Linara should be easily able to beat him in a fight. She was still on edge, but no longer terrified. The same could not be said for Sal, however, the girl whimpering softly.

    ¡°You stand in the Headquarters of Resh. The Knights of Resh are trained here, before being sent out into the world.¡±

    ¡°There are no Knights of Resh. Not any more.¡± The name had been mentioned a few times in the castle¡¯s history books. ¡°Are you Resh?¡±

    He tried to laugh, but it turned into another cough. ¡°Resh stands at the top of the hill outside. He was my best friend, my comrade, and the founder of the order, the first of the knights. I helped him, carrying out his wish long after his years ran out.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± Linara paused, unsure of herself. ¡°You looked dead. You¡¯re in a coffin.¡±

    ¡°This is a bed.¡± Grathen stated plainly, as if it was obvious. ¡°I was hibernating.¡±

    ¡°Hatharen don¡¯t hibernate. This place has been abandoned for hundreds of years. There was a lid on your bed.¡±

    Grathen looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. ¡°So it seems.¡± His eye fell on Sal, who did her best to shrink into the wall under his gaze. ¡°Young woman.¡± He said, in the human tongue. ¡°You have nothing to fear from me. I owe you two a great debt, for waking me up. Please, stand up.¡±

    Quietly, Sal nodded, pushing herself to her feet and moving behind Linara, like a child hiding behind her mother.

    Slowly, Grathen rose from his tomb-bed, coming to his full height and stepping out onto the floor. Luckily, his trousers had endured his hibernation better than his shirt. ¡°I need to go and see Resh.¡±

    He had said before that Resh was on top of the hill outside. ¡°The statue?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Once there, I will answer all the questions you wish to ask, Linara of Aesuthal and friend.¡± He said, before slipping through the gap in the wall.

    ¡°W-what was that?¡± Sal asked, still huddled close to Linara, her voice shaking.

    ¡°One of my people, it seems.¡± Linara answered. The fear had worn off, replaced entirely by curiosity. Grathen¡¯s so-called hibernation was something she had never heard about. How old was he, and what knowledge did he have? The Knights of Resh were founded over four thousand years ago, and seemingly died around three hundred years ago. Not much was known about them among humans, but maybe the Hatharen knew. There were a small percentage of eccentrics among her people that kept records on human history, but that had never been an interest of hers when she still lived in the stronghold.

    Without another word, Linara followed after Grathen, with Sal following after. The two of them quickly found him crouching on the stairs upwards, breathing heavily.

    ¡°My body is not used to moving.¡± He said, smiling in the light from the lantern. Despite his words, he looked better than he did moments ago, less gaunt. He was regenerating from his hibernation right in front of their eyes. ¡°I will need some food, but I want to see Resh first.¡±

    Linara wanted to point out that it was just a statue, but held back. She tried to think about sleeping for potentially thousands of years, and just wanting to see something, anything, that reminded her of something familiar. Her mind immediately went to Senral.

    Taking another deep breath - and coughing it back out - Grathen stood and ascended the stairs, Linara and Sal following. He made it out the door and partially up the hill before once more sitting down and catching his breath. As he sat, he stared first up at the sun, then at the landscape around him.

    ¡°It¡¯s different.¡± He commented, before rising once more and walking to the top of the hill.

    Grathen was silent as he looked upon The Watcher. Sal and Linara watched silently as he stepped towards it, reaching to the face and touching the eye holes, his hand running downwards, over the stump of the nose. ¡°It is as worn as my memory is. I don¡¯t remember his face.¡± He turned to Linara, tears in his eyes. ¡°Do you have anything to eat?¡±

    She took a moment to react to his question, before turning to Sal, who pulled some dried meat out of her pack. He quickly ate it, sitting down on the ground and staring up at the statue.

    ¡°I might need more than that. It¡¯s been a long time since I ate anything.¡±

    ¡°I can go hunt something.¡± Linara said, but Sal immediately grabbed her arm, shaking her head.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± She spoke up, giving Linara a pleading look. ¡°Please don¡¯t leave me alone with him.¡± The whisper came out, and Linara nodded.

    ¡°After his death, I trained the Knights, spreading his teachings for two hundred more years. It is not a long time, for our people, but I already felt old. I had spent four hundred among my own people, then another four with the humans. It¡¯s hard to live to one thousand, so I felt lucky, but I missed him. I missed him so much. So I went to sleep.¡±

    Linara nodded, sitting across from him on the ground near the statue. ¡°Even now it¡¯s rare anyone lives that long. From the information that gets shared, only half live beyond seven hundred.¡±

    ¡°Things are getting worse in the north, then.¡±

    Nodding again, Linara asked her next question. ¡°The sleep - the hibernation - that isn¡¯t something I¡¯ve ever heard about. How does that work?¡±

    ¡°We heal backwards.¡± Grathen said, looking at his hand. ¡°Unlike humans, who grow new flesh, gaining scars, we re-grow our old flesh, back to how it used to be. If we don¡¯t die immediately, we can regrow limbs and organs. Hatharen are terrifying, unnatural creatures. Has a Hatharen ever died of starvation, or thirst? Of course not. We may become weak, defenseless before the elements, and die of the slightest cut, thinned blood draining from our weakened body faster than we can recover it. One in such a situation struggles to find food or water and puts themselves at greater risk. If you are in a completely safe place, could you not simply meditate, and fall into a deep sleep? A human would sleep until they die, obviously. But Hatharen don¡¯t. This was my hypothesis. I first tried it for a hundred days, and easily recovered. So I made that room, and went to sleep. I told them to wake me up if they needed me. It seems they forgot.¡± He laughed. His voice sounded better now, and the laugh was strong, loud, carrying. He smiled a lot during his explanations, but every now and then he would look up at the statue and his face would fall into sadness, but only for a moment.

    Linara found Grathen to be an oddity.

    ¡°Resh¡¯s sword.¡± She said, pointing to the hilt that still remained on the statue. ¡°I have two questions about that. They are why I was exploring the building. The design of the crossguard. I have seen one other sword like that, and only one. An identical pattern. I was wondering if you could tell me about that.¡±

    Standing up once more, Grathen approached the statue, looking at the carved sword. Given a view of his bare back, Linara noticed that he already looked less thin than before, the meat under his skin starting to re-form. Apparently Hatharen bodies regained lost muscle even faster than they healed wounds. Linara had never thought about that before.

    ¡°It¡¯s a simple style of sword used by the order. There are some situational applications in battle, but it¡¯s mostly ornamental. If the Knights died out as long ago as you say, I doubt any of their swords still remain, so someone must have copied the design. Unless the teachings were passed down in secret by a few survivors.¡±

    Ferene didn¡¯t seem like the type to have any secret teachings, and her fighting style was brutal, unrefined. ¡°Probably just a coincidence, then.¡± She said. There didn¡¯t seem to be any connection between the strange girl and the ancient order.

    ¡°What was your other question?¡± He asked, sitting down again.

    Linara shrugged. ¡°The hilt is made of Hatharen black metal. I figured it shouldn¡¯t be here, in the human lands. But you being here explains it.¡±

    Grathen nodded. ¡°I was a blacksmith, at one point. That crossguard is from the sword Resh himself used, that I made for him. I forged that piece myself, from a small amount of ore I had. If I could have made a full weapon, he might still be properly armed, instead of just holding a hilt.¡± He smiled as he looked up at the statue of his friend.

 Interlude: Selveren

    His face should have stung where his daughter struck him, but it was hard to care about the pain when everything felt numb.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you save her?"

    He had tried. Of course he had tried. More than he should have, given the circumstances. ¡°Stabilizing her was beyond my abilities.¡± There had been a hole the size of his fist in her side where a Cahire had impaled her and then ripped its weapon out of her body, taking her flesh with it. If Selveren closed his eyes, he could still see it.

    ¡°If you had practiced fighting, you would have been able to defend her! Mother is dead because you think healing matters. How many did you save after the battle today? Was it worth the ones you couldn¡¯t save during it?¡±

    Swallowing, Selveren looked at his daughter. If he had been stronger, maybe he could have prevented Elisere from being struck. She wasn¡¯t the only loss. Of the twenty four that had left, twenty one had returned. He had saved one, after the battle. A deep leg wound, bleeding heavily. If he had dedicated more years to combat instead of researching medicine, could he have saved Elisere instead? He didn¡¯t know. It was impossible to know. He didn¡¯t tell his daughter that. Tilhana wouldn¡¯t understand. She was stronger than he was. If she had been in the group that left, maybe it would have been different.

    He didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Get out of my sight.¡± She said, turning away from him. Selveren pressed his lips together. He had always been more distant from her than he should have been. The same with her mother - his research took up so much of his time, so much of his focus. It left him alone, isolated. Letting out a deep breath, he turned, walking back towards his family. Elisere was their only loss today. The other four looked at him, sadness obvious on their faces, along with pity.

    They agreed with Tilhana, he suspected. There was no point in asking to confirm. Better to remain silent. The five of them walked over a ridge, moving down a staircase cut directly into the rock of the mountain, down into a pit where their three wooden houses stood. The stronghold of Treventhal was built on the flat peak of a mountain, with the dwellings placed in natural depressions across the plateau. He stopped outside the building he had shared with Elisere, hesitating. She wouldn¡¯t be there. She would never be there again. Regardless of if it was his skill in combat or ability to heal her afterwards, he had failed her. He held back a sob, and turned away from the door.

    Someone grabbed his arm. He met Rensaro¡¯s eyes. ¡°You can stay with us.¡± He said. Eltadira, standing behind him, nodded.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± He whispered, following the two of them into their building.

    The next day, he had another encounter with his daughter. While he was looking over the fields, she approached him, a frown on her face before they even began talking.

    ¡°Selveren.¡± She addressed him, standing up straight, her body tense. He looked at her, confused. She was still angry, that much was obvious. She wouldn¡¯t forgive him any time soon, so why was she here?

    ¡°Tilhana.¡±

    ¡°Do you think you could have saved my mother, if you were more experienced at healing?¡±

    He bit back the immediate reply. He wanted it. It had taken him hours to fall asleep, constantly thinking of how he could have stopped the bleeding, found some way to patch the massive hole before it was too late, anything. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He said.

    ¡°The humans would know, wouldn¡¯t they?¡±

    He blinked, staring at her. ¡°It is possible.¡± He said, hesitant. Much of his knowledge came from human books, but they were not recent, not by human standards. Tilhana did not know much about humans, though.

    ¡°You should go to them, and learn.¡±

    His mind raced through the reasoning behind her words. She didn¡¯t care about him, or what he wanted to do. His methods of trying to make their lives better were lost on her. She only knew about fighting. Something far too common. ¡°Are you telling me to leave?¡±

    His daughter laughed at him. ¡°You¡¯re so smart. You don¡¯t live like one of us, you don¡¯t fight like one of us. You want to learn how the humans do things, go live with them. You¡¯re a danger to everyone here, with how incompetent you are. I don¡¯t want to see you ever again. I don¡¯t want to think of you. I can¡¯t even consider you my father.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    There should have been pain. He should have felt anger. He should have said something, anything, in his defense. Looking into her eyes, he found himself not caring. How did it affect him if his daughter hated him? In fact, how did it affect him if was here or somewhere else? He could learn things from the humans faster than he could on his own.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea. Thank you.¡± He said, turning from her to continue inspecting the crops in the field. He could leave later, after he was done with his work. He would talk to the council about it, and with their permission, gather supplies and set out tomorrow at the earliest. From what he remembered, it would be a few day¡¯s travel to any human settlement of notable size, and then a week or more to get to the largest parts of their civilization.

    Behind him, he heard Tilhana shift, her feet grinding in the dirt as she spun and walked away from him, perhaps for the last time. He didn¡¯t expect her to talk to him again before he left. Maybe she only wanted to hurt him, to deal with her loss by lashing out again, or maybe she truly wanted him to leave. It didn¡¯t matter to Selveren.

    Nothing he could do would bring Elisere back, but if he knew more, understood more, he might be able to make a bigger difference in the future. In a way, there was nothing holding him here.

    It felt too easy. The leaders were more than happy to let him go. All he had to do was visit another Hatharen in the human lands. He said his goodbyes to his family. There was a mild feeling of sadness, but no longing. He would not miss them. They would not miss him. His daughter did not show up at all. No streak of yellow hair in the small group that gathered to see him off, just the four members of his family, his mentor in the human language, and a friend from his childhood. They exchanged simple farewells and he descended the mountain, alone.

    He made his stop in a human city, and quickly moved on. There was little of interest to him in learning about the culture. Their knowledge was what mattered, but first, he had to do one last duty to his people.

    Selveren asked questions at every stop along the way, and eventually tracked Taradira to the far south, passing multiple large cities, ignoring the stares he got as he went. As he approached the wooden fort overlooking a river, he was stopped by human soldiers with weapons raised. A brief conversation and they brought him before her.

    ¡°You want to learn human medicine?¡± She asked, looking up at him from her seated position. There wasn¡¯t the same judgment in her eyes as he had gotten from others of his kind, only a vague look of surprise.

    ¡°If we were better at stabilizing wounds, deaths could be prevented. We don¡¯t have much information, I thought that the humans might know more.¡±

    ¡°Humans are fragile.¡± She said, looking at him intently. Her gaze made him feel awkward. ¡°They look for any way they can to live even a little longer. We are far more durable than they are, but that durability makes us unprepared to deal with serious injuries.¡±

    ¡°So there is something to learn?¡±

    ¡°You can start right here.¡± She said, her lips pulling back in a small grin. More for herself than him, it seemed. Like she had just won some minor victory. ¡°You want to learn how to treat combat wounds? You can start right here on the front lines.¡±

    Selveren watched a lot of humans die. Taradira was right about their fragility. They died slowly, painfully, over the course of hours. If a Hatharen could survive that long, they¡¯d have stabilized. For the humans it was different. He learned so much, but so little at the same time. What good was information on how to treat infection, how to set a broken bone, or how to safely amputate a ruined limb? The other healers - the surgeons - gave him instructions and he carried them out, keeping his complaints unvoiced. By the time the conflict was over, he had saved more than he watched die.

    What was more interesting to him was what they called herbalism. Plants could be used as medicine, affecting both the body and the mind. A common use on the battlefield was to dull pain, but there were other concoctions with other purposes elsewhere. Questioning along this line revealed the existence of methods to assist in conceiving children.

    He parted ways with Taradira, taking with him knowledge and ideas, a new outlook on what he needed to do. The question of if he could have saved Elisere was forgotten as Selveren changed his focus.

    Things would be so much simpler if there were more Hatharen that could fight. The humans reproduced at an astonishing rate, even for their limited life span. If his own people could channel even some part of that, the chances of victory in every situation would improve. Human armies gained strength from numbers. Noncombatants supported the fighting men. Hatharen had no numbers, and the only noncombatants were children too young to fight. They took turns in every role since they didn¡¯t have the numbers for any other way. They knew no other way.

    Instead of pursuing more knowledge from the humans, he set out on his own. With new possibilities in mind, he just needed resources and space to work. He found a good place to start a garden, near a riverbank a short walk from a small human village. It was a location isolated, yet with a link back to civilization close at hand. The village might have been out of the way, but it was close enough to a major road that if he needed to, he would be able to find people going to and from larger cities. Using the human money he had earned working for Taradira, he hired humans to build a small house for him, and got to work.

 Chapter 4, Book 2: The Mirror Warrior

    After eating and sleeping, Grathen looked even more alive, which had the benefit of calming Sal¡¯s fears. The old Hatharen sat and watched as Linara ran the girl through a set of exercises, showing her techniques more suited to her heavy, curved blade. Partway through, he started looking around, frowning, before standing up and approaching the pair.

    ¡°May I?¡± He asked, extending his hand down towards Sal. The girl looked up at the towering figure in confusion. ¡°Your sword. For a moment.¡±

    Frowning, she looked to Linara, who shrugged. While she was curious as to what Grathen wanted, it would be wrong to tell Sal to give up her weapon. After some consideration, the girl did hand it over.

    With speed belying his size, he surged towards Linara, chopping horizontally. She scrambled backwards, barely blocking the attack with her spear, the weight of the blade slamming into the shaft. She felt like it might have been wrenched out of her grip if not for all her experience.

    Spinning back, he held the sword in front of him, then spun his wrist while moving his arm, weaving the sword around his body. Twirling forward, he looked to aim a feint at Linara¡¯s shoulder. She made a slight move to parry, but he suddenly increased the speed of his movement, striking her blindingly fast with a commitment she was unprepared to react to.

    The edge of the blade skittered along the surface of her armor despite the force behind the blow. Recovering from the attack, Grathen walked back to Sal and returned the sword to her. ¡°No good against armor.¡± He said, before collapsing heavily into a sitting position. He panted, heavily, sweat covering his shirtless torso. ¡°And I don¡¯t have the stamina to fight yet.¡±

    Linara looked to Sal, finding the girl staring at him. ¡°Do you think you can replicate what he did?¡± She asked.

    After a heartbeat, the girl looked back to Linara, her face flushed. ¡°I, um, might.¡± She said, bringing up her weapon. She held it in front of her, then flexed her wrist, slowly rotating the sword, then added in an arm movement. The motion was slower and simpler than what Grathen had done, but from just a single look, the girl was able to copy the basis of the movement.

    ¡°That¡¯s very impressive.¡± He said, smiling from his sitting position. Sal immediately fumbled her motion, dropping the sword, her face growing even redder under his praise.

    ¡°Let¡¯s stop for today. We should find a town, and hopefully they will have clothes that fit you. Sal, come with me.¡±

    She lead the girl down the hill, around the bushes that hid the statue and their campsite. ¡°Yesterday you were terrified of him.¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t look like a corpse any more.¡±

    Linara frowned. ¡°Weren¡¯t you cozying up to one of the recruits back in Bavmont?¡±

    Sal responded by shrugging. ¡°He was nice to me, but we hardly knew each other. I¡¯m not going to be cozying up to Grathen, if you really must know. He¡¯s old. Really old. Older than history. He just looks good for his age. Now that he doesn¡¯t look like a corpse.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to look at shirtless men or do you want to learn how to fight?¡± Linara snapped, louder than she intended. Sal shrunk back, becoming even smaller. Linara felt a pang of guilt, but didn¡¯t relent. She held her gaze on the girl.

    ¡°Learning is my first priority.¡± She said after taking some time. Standing up straight, she met Linara¡¯s gaze. ¡°When I learn how to fight, I¡¯ll be able to look at all the men I want.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot.¡± Linara said, turning to walk back to camp. ¡°Lesson ten is that when you find the right person, you won¡¯t need anyone else. You don¡¯t see me rubbing my eyes all over everyone we meet.¡±

    Whatever expression Sal made at that, Linara didn¡¯t see it, but the girl did not say anything in response.

    As they traveled, Linara continued to instruct Sal, with the occasional input from Grathen. He seemed mildly familiar with the type of sword she had, and corrected some of Linara¡¯s suggestions.

    On a whim, Linara led Sal to a clearing with a tree, and with one smooth motion, turned and threw her knife at the tree. After retrieving it, she handed it to the girl. ¡°Can you replicate that?¡± She asked. Knife throwing was more than just forms and motions. It would be extremely impressive if she could copy it successfully.

    Sal held the blade in her hand, staring at her target. After a moment, she changed her grip, holding the knife by her leg, as if it were in an invisible sheath, before copying Linara¡¯s movement and throwing it.

    It bounced off the tree, landing in the dirt. ¡°I had to guess what your hand was doing.¡± Sal said, picking up the knife and handing it back to Linara. ¡°Minor details are hard to see.¡±

    Linara nodded. The girl didn¡¯t have any special combat ability, but a combination of a very good memory and awareness of where her body was, allowing her to see and copy motions easily. ¡°You¡¯re going at things the wrong way, then.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Linara smiled. ¡°You¡¯re trying to copy people who you see as strong, because you think that will allow you to be strong. It¡¯s a waste of your talents.¡±

    Her smile was met with a frown from Sal. ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you mean.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t copy.¡± She said, unslinging her spear from her back. ¡°Instead, exploit. Memorize the details of an attack, and counter it. You can do this faster than most. If you are watching the body properly, you can react to a strike you¡¯ve seen before, before it actually happens.¡± Assuming a fighting stance with her weapon backwards, Linara swung her spear, replicating one of the attacks she had used during the tournament. ¡°If I do that against you, can you beat it?¡±

    Sal¡¯s eyes widened, and then narrowed. Setting her jaw, she nodded, and drew her sword, assuming a basic stance. Linara struck, with the exact same form as before. Sal moved the instant she committed to the motion, swaying out of the path of the attack and slapping Linara on the shoulder with the flat of her blade. Her own strike was a perfect copy of Grathen¡¯s attack.

    There was a perfect moment there, as the girl¡¯s mouth pulled into a wide smile, her eyes almost glowing with joy. Then, almost immediately, she was serious again, falling back into her fighting stance. ¡°Do another.¡± She demanded, meeting Linara¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Soldiers perform hundreds, if not thousands of drills, practicing to perfection. You can use that to your advantage, but you have to counter them hard. If an opponent realizes what you can do, they will never use the same attack twice, or start adding small variations to throw you off.¡± Linara performed a simple thrust, one she hadn¡¯t used in Bavmont at all. Sal easily blocked it, and nodded at her. Linara repeated the attack, and Sal stepped inwards, pushing the blow to the side while extending her foot in a kick to Linara¡¯s stomach, pulling back at the last moment to dampen the blow. Smiling, Linara did the attack a third time, but moved slower at first, not quite a feint, but just different enough to throw off Sal¡¯s timing, putting power into the thrust late, pushing the dull butt of the weapon into Sal¡¯s side.

    ¡°I get it.¡± She said, smiling despite her apparent defeat. ¡°You¡¯re right, I was only thinking about copying, not reacting.¡±

    Linara nodded, and they started on the next part of her training.

    The next day, they arrived at a small village. After a bit of asking, Linara led the group to the local seamstress, presenting Grathen. After a bit of measuring and waiting for her to make adjustments to accommodate his frame, they had two sets of basic clothes for him, replacing the half-disintegrated leggings as well. The shoemaker required additional time, so the three of them left him to his work, instead stopping at the tavern. It was barely populated, and the lone person working there told them to sit down and wait for him.

    ¡°Tell me about the coins you are using.¡± Grathen said as the three sat down. Linara raised an eyebrow. ¡°They are different from what was used in my time.¡±

    Reaching into her pouch, Linara set four coins on the table. A copper triangle, a bronze circle, a silver hexagon, and a gold square. Sal¡¯s eyes lingered on the last piece. Linara pushed the triangle and the hexagon forward. ¡°These two are the most commonly used pieces. Triangles for small purchases, hexagons for larger ones. Lodging for the night will probably be a hex or two. If you want some alcohol to drink you¡¯ll be looking at a few triangles. Other food will be part of our lodging fee.¡±

    Nodding, Grathen pointed to the other two. ¡°And those?¡±

    Flipping the circle onto its edge, Linara let it roll across the table until it tipped back onto its face. ¡°These are more commonly used outside the independent lands. The kingdoms use them interchangeably with the hex piece. You can usually give people either one, but they will drastically prefer city coins. The square, however.¡± She picked up the final piece, holding it between her fingers. ¡°Too large for most casual purchases. We could have food and rooms here for a month with just this one, and change to spare.¡± Seeing Sal¡¯s eyes following it, Linara flicked it in her direction, the girl grabbing it and staring at it, eyes widening.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Call it an allowance.¡± Linara said, shrugging. ¡°You want some gear or supplies, you have the ability to get them on your own.¡±

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Sal blushed, but pocketed the coin. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Do I get an allowance, mother?¡± Grathen asked.

    Linara coughed, but recovered quickly. ¡°You can work for money.¡±

    Frowning, he gestured towards Sal. ¡°I helped you with her training.¡±

    ¡°And we shared our supplies on the road, then bought you clothes and shoes.¡±

    ¡°That you did.¡± He said with a sigh. ¡°So, what kind of work is in my future?¡±

    Shrugging, Linara gave him a smile. ¡°You don¡¯t have to follow us, and in fact I¡¯d prefer you didn¡¯t. Not because I want you gone,¡± She quickly added, seeing his concerned expression, ¡°But because there is something else you need to do, and I¡¯m going in the wrong direction.¡±

    ¡°You have a task for me.¡±

    ¡°Hatharen do their best to keep track of each other in the human lands, for communication. There aren¡¯t that many of us, and a whole lot of space for us to get lost in. There¡¯s someone who keeps track of us, to a loose degree, and so you should go to her. I can write you a letter of introduction to take with you, since you don¡¯t have a knife.¡±

    ¡°Is there something special about your knife?¡± He asked, curious.

    Pausing for a moment, Linara eventually drew the weapon and handed it to him. ¡°We all have one. They identify us, showing proof of who we are. If you ever see a human with one, you should find out where they got it from. Go far enough back and you¡¯ll find a Hatharen.¡±

    Taking the knife from her, he didn¡¯t look at it, instead meeting her eyes. ¡°And you have the habit of throwing this unique and valuable thing around?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m very good at throwing it, and even better at getting it back.¡± She smiled at him.

    ¡°Huh.¡± He replied, looking at it, his eyes immediately focusing harder as he saw the inscription on the blade. ¡°I see, very interesting. I guess I¡¯ll be needing one as well, won¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Eventually. You¡¯ll have to head to a stronghold for that, and it¡¯ll be interesting getting you back. Taradira - the one you need to meet - can help you with that, probably.¡±

    ¡°You two have fought monsters, right? Real monsters?¡± Sal suddenly asked, cutting into the conversation. The other two looked at her. ¡°Linara mentioned it before. Having fought them. I was curious about that. Is that what your people do?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t give humans the details. I shouldn¡¯t have said anything. Please forget about it.¡± Linara responded, giving Grathen a sharp look. Things were different in his time, it seemed.

    ¡°Please? I won¡¯t tell anyone.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m curious as to why.¡± Grathen said.

    Linara sighed. ¡°Humans are curious. Say ¡®Don¡¯t go here, monsters will kill you and you won¡¯t be able to fight back.¡¯ And humans will rush over to see if it¡¯s really true or not. Let them think, on their own, that there is nothing there, at all, and they¡¯ll ignore it. ¡®What¡¯s beyond the mountains?¡¯ Nothing is beyond the mountains.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean I won¡¯t be able to fight back?¡± Sal asked, predictably.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing beyond the mountains, Sal.¡±

    ¡°You just said there are monsters there.¡±

    ¡°I lied.¡± Linara responded, as Grathen smiled at the exchange.

    ¡°Linara¡­¡± Sal groaned, giving her a pleading look. ¡°Won¡¯t you please tell me? I promise I won¡¯t go there, I just want to know.¡±

    ¡°Have you ever seen an animal freeze when they spot you?¡± Grathen asked.

    Sal nodded. ¡°Yeah. Sometimes when they think you haven¡¯t noticed, they go completely still. Others will do the same thing when they know they can¡¯t get away.¡±

    ¡°They know you are a predator they can¡¯t fight back against. Even if they¡¯ve never seen a human before, they know the magnitude of the threat. Imagine there is a predator out there that is like that to humans. You see it and your mind goes blank, your muscles become tense, your joints lock up. You can¡¯t think, you can¡¯t move. You are rooted on the spot.¡± He dropped his voice as he spoke, leaning forward. ¡°A creature, as big as me, walks forward. You see pale skin, stretched tightly over bones that seem too large. The thing opens its mouth, showing you two rows of sharp, pointed teeth. You want to scream, want to run, but you can¡¯t. Something inside you knows you¡¯d never outrun it, never overpower it. It bites into you, tearing your flesh. You become the thing¡¯s next meal, just as the squirrels you hunted for us on the road were our dinner.¡±

    At the end of his speech, Sal swallowed, looking from Grathen to Linara. ¡°Is that true?¡± She whispered.

    ¡°Resh wanted to see them.¡± Grathen said. ¡°I advised him against it, over and over, but in the end I could not say no to him. We found one. He told me, afterward, how it felt. To stand there, unable to do anything, simply watching me fight. He was lucky that there weren¡¯t very many of them.¡±

    ¡°Surely not everyone is like that. If someone was-¡°

    ¡°You¡¯re doing the human thing where you want to go and see for yourself, to prove us wrong.¡± Linara said, frowning. ¡°This is why we keep it a secret. You tell humans that something will kill them, and they want to prove that they are special.¡±

    Grathen grinned at her. ¡°Why don¡¯t you share how it affects you?¡±

    Linara glared at him. ¡°What does he mean?¡± Sal asked.

    ¡°A half-human like her can¡¯t fight those monsters at full strength. They suffer for their blood.¡±

    Sal looked to Linara, her eyes wide. ¡°We get sick. Vomiting, headaches, feeling weak. It¡¯s hard to fight for very long, since the closer I get, the worse it is. More than a few minutes and it becomes unbearable.¡±

    ¡°But you fought them anyway?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°It¡¯s rare for them to appear in large numbers, luckily. Most fights are short. Now, promise me you won¡¯t go there, and you won¡¯t tell anyone else about it.¡±

    Sal nodded vigorously, and Grathen laughed. ¡°We scared some sense into her, it seems.¡±

    ¡°You did that.¡± Linara said, glaring at him again. It would have been easier if he had just followed her lead. ¡°I think we were forgotten about. I¡¯ll go see about getting us rooms and food.¡± She stood up and went to check the back of the tavern.

    The next day, they found a local blacksmith, and while he didn¡¯t have any weapons, he did have some crude iron bars. Finding one of a decent length, Linara tried to pay him money to borrow it, but he didn¡¯t care, as long as they brought it back. Finding an empty space nearby, she squared up against Sal and went at the girl, showing her a number of standard longsword swings, then changing her grip and using it like a rapier. At first, Linara would do the same attack twice, giving Sal a chance to block and then counter the repeated attempt, but later on would go from one attack to the next, showing her several different strikes in a row before repeating any of them. Even then, Sal¡¯s memory came through, and she repeatedly slapped Linara with her blade, or used her legs to kick. Despite having one hand free in most of her movements, Sal never tried punching.

    Despite playing deliberately into Sal¡¯s strengths, Linara got tired of losing. Rather than trick the girl, she changed her style once more, switching to a reverse grip and lashing out in a quick strike. Sal cried out in pain as she was struck on the upper arm, staggering backwards. ¡°That¡¯s enough for now.¡± Linara said, noticing the reaction. That was the first time she had truly hit Sal. Up until now, she had never tried to actually fight the girl seriously, instead demonstrating techniques or challenging her to guard. ¡°Sorry, I got carried away.¡±

    Her strike had not been overly strong, and the girl was wearing her chainmail over her shirt, so Linara figured her reaction was more to the shock of it than any real damage. ¡°Let me see your arm.¡± Linara said. Shedding her mail, the girl rolled up her sleeve, presenting her arm to Linara. A light bruise was already forming, but nothing more. ¡°Learning how to take blows is important, but that was the first time you¡¯ve been struck that hard, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°My parents hit me before.¡±

    Linara opened her mouth to specify in combat, but closed it. ¡°I see.¡± She said. Linara had heard of some humans doing that. It was an oddity among them; a core part of their culture, both accepted but looked down upon. ¡°I¡¯m going to return this to smith.¡± She said, holding up her iron stick. ¡°Can you find Grathen and bring him there?¡±

    Silently, Sal nodded, turning and walking off. Linara let out a breath as she walked away. Sal was not the same as Senral. She had been very hard on the prince, but the girl did not have the same kind of training. She needed to be slower with this one.

    Grathen, now with both clothes and shoes, arrived at the blacksmith¡¯s workshop. In a very short amount of time he was exchanging information with the human worker, giving accurate details of ancient techniques while marveling at modern advancements. ¡°It was common for me.¡± Was his explanation to the question of how he knew such things, and the man was readily accepting of the idea that Hatharen were just strange. Linara didn¡¯t feel that Grathen¡¯s hibernation was a secret, but she didn¡¯t feel like explaining the multitude of things for it to make sense to humans.

    ¡°The pay he was offering is very good. You can get yourself started here, and eventually head south.¡± Linara said once they were back at their table in the tavern.

    Running a hand over his face, Grathen pushed his lips together. He showed almost no signs of going without food or water for thousands of years at this point, likely fully restored to his condition before entering the coffin. ¡°I¡¯ll take the job. With access to the equipment in the workshop, I can even make my own weapon with the tools in the shop. Hopefully I won¡¯t be here too long.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you can¡¯t just give him the money to get to this person?¡± Sal asked, frowning.

    Shaking her head, Linara answered the question. ¡°I have enough to get the two of us to Olentor, and a bit more beyond that. Can¡¯t pay for a third person to go all the way to Ettsgras on top of that. Also, I¡¯m sure he doesn¡¯t want to rely on me for everything.¡±

    ¡°You really are like a mother.¡± Grathen said, smiling.

    ¡°I will never be a parent!¡± Linara snapped at him. His eyes went wide at the response, then his face fell, and he nodded.

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Letting out a breath, Linara tried to calm herself down. It was an uncharacteristic outburst. Grathen didn¡¯t deserve to suffer for Linara¡¯s regrets. As she looked away from him, she saw Sal, the girl¡¯s face twisted, her gaze on the table before her.

    Right.

    Standing up, Linara patted her on the back. ¡°Come on, Sal, let¡¯s get to sleep early.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Lesson¡­thirteen. Rest when you can, because you never know when the next opportunity will be.¡±

    Looking skeptical, Sal gave a hesitant nod. ¡°Alright.¡±

    Once they were in their shared room, Linara sat down on one of the two beds, looking at Sal. ¡°We need to talk about today, Sal.¡±

    Reaching up, Sal ran her hands through her hair, before sitting down on her own bed. ¡°What about?¡±

    ¡°If you are going to fight, you need to be able to get hit. You will spar with me, and I will hit you. You will fight others, and they will hit you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been sparring before. I can be hit. Today was different.¡±

    Linara nodded, showing the girl a smile. ¡°Can you tell me what was different?¡±

    For a moment, Sal¡¯s eyes went wide, before she swallowed, setting her shoulders. ¡°I guess¡­I started thinking about you as, kind of a parent. I wasn¡¯t thinking about it properly. It won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    Standing up, Linara reached out, rubbing Sal¡¯s head, her fingers threading through her black hair. ¡°Remind me how old you are.¡±

    ¡°Eighteen.¡±

    Linara laughed. ¡°I¡¯m not old enough to be your mother.¡± She whispered. ¡°It¡¯s very, very rare for Hatharen to have siblings, but you can think of me as an older sister, if you want.¡±

    Sal¡¯s eyes went wide again, looking up at Linara, her mouth agape. ¡°R-really? I thought you were, like, seventy. Or more.¡±

    Dramatically gasping, Linara stepped back, bringing her hands to her face. ¡°How could you?¡± Her overacted reaction got a laugh out of Sal, and Linara smiled down at her again.

 Chapter 5, Book 2: The Price of Independence - Part 1

    Celkeish marked the eastern border of the independent lands. Beyond it lay the lands of Olentor, Linara¡¯s destination. Rather than a single town they grew larger over time until it blossomed into a full city, Celkeish formed from a line of small villages, the resulting city taking the form of a long line. From a military standpoint, it was a nightmare. There were a few wooden walls here and there, but the growth of the population had outpaced the construction projects, leaving the meager fortifications as dividers for the stretches of buildings.

    ¡°We¡¯ll rest here for a bit, and then start the last leg of our journey.¡± Linara said, staring across the grassy plain at the city. A simple dirt road curved towards the sprawling monument of humanity¡¯s ability to grow, flanked by fenced fields filled with horses, cows, sheep, and goats.

    ¡°What is Olentor like?¡± Sal asked.

    Linara took a moment to contemplate how to best describe it for her student. ¡°I was last there several years ago, but it is a small and well organized kingdom. A lot of little towns interconnected, all working together. The main city at the center of it is bigger than Bavmont, but not as big as that,¡± She pointed at Celkeish, ¡°with a castle at the center. There¡¯s a lot of horses.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d think horses would come from a big place with a lot of open land.¡±

    It made sense, and Linara smiled. ¡°The famous horses of Olentor you are thinking of are a very small part of a much larger culture. Of every one hundred horses in Olentor, there is one of the royal family¡¯s personal stock.¡±

    After a bit of silence, Sal asked, ¡°How many is that, total?¡±

    ¡°A bit less than two hundred, at any given time.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nearly twenty thousand horses in the kingdom? And it¡¯s small?¡±

    ¡°For every horse, there are about seven people.¡±

    Sal went silent again, doing the math in her head. ¡°A hundred and seventy thousand?¡±

    Reaching over, Linara ruffled the girl¡¯s hair. ¡°Should be around that number. Though, since they¡¯ve now allied with Wellant, things may have changed.¡± Smaller buildings surrounded them as they reached the outskirts of Celkeish.

    Before the two could get very far into the city, four men stepped out, blocking their path. All of them were wearing identical hooded, dark-blue coats, with a black stripe wrapping around at chest height. Two of them hand the fronts unbuttoned, revealing scaled armor underneath.

    Linara stuck out her arm, holding Sal back. ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡±

    ¡°Mandated ¡®spection.¡± The closest one said. ¡°See you¡¯ve got weapons and armor. Wonderin¡¯ where yer headin¡¯. Thas¡¯ all.¡±

    Narrowing her eyes, Linara faced the man. He didn¡¯t quite equal her in height, despite being the tallest of the four. ¡°On what authority?¡±

    ¡°Lord Felden.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Linara asked. She had never heard of a Lord Felden, much less any sort of nobility in Celkeish. Cities in the independent lands were rarely ruled by bloodline.

    ¡°Lord Felden the First! Lord of Celkeish! By his decree, no armed individuals may enter the city without being questioned. All the mercenaries were heading south for the war. What¡¯s got you going in the opposite direction?¡±

    ¡°I am a Knight of Olentor and I am returning there. This is my squire.¡±

    She felt Sal stiffen, and the lead man looked back at his comrades, the three of them wearing concerned looks. Officially, Linara had never been a true knight, but during her time in the palace she was given equal, if not better, treatment.

    ¡°M-milady.¡± The speaker said, giving her an awkward and entirely unneeded half-bow. ¡°Someone of your esteem must pay a visit to Lord Felden. He will surely want to speak with you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m very eager to return to Olentor. We were looking for a place to stay the night before heading out tomorrow.¡±

    Another look backwards. ¡°S-surely you can wait an extra day. It¡¯s likely that Lord Felden would allow you to stay in one of his guest rooms. Much better than some random Inn. Please.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡±

    Moving south, their destination quickly became clear. A large mansion stood above the surrounding buildings, ornate towers in the four corners making the structure look more like a castle, though the delicate-looking wood front contradicted that. There were more uniformed guards patrolling the streets as the group of six got closer.

    At the gate, one of the men escorting Linara and Sal stopped to talk with someone on the other side, and they were let through. A short walk through an oddly plain garden later, and the two were instructed to wait in the ornate foyer. Vibrant rugs covered the floor, and the walls were covered with paintings of elaborate landscapes. Linara approached one of these, peering intently at a depiction of mountains meeting the sea.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty.¡± Sal said, standing beside her.

    Home. Linara didn¡¯t say the word. It was hidden from view, but the painting showed the location of Aesuthal, the southernmost Hatharen stronghold. Who had painted this, and when? Did they know what was there, or did they only care about the landscape?

    ¡°Does that interest you?¡±

    Turning to the voice, Linara found herself looking down at a well-dressed, balding man. His dark blue, double-breasted shirt was the same shade as the stripe on the guard¡¯s coats. ¡°Lord Felden, I presume.¡± Linara said, meeting his eyes. He barely came up to her chest, being only a few fingers taller than Sal. His thin build and proper posture gave him a bit of a dignified aura despite his size.

    ¡°Indeed. If my knowledge of the current history of the region is correct, you are Linara. Though I do not know your companion.¡± He smiled widely, awkwardly tilting his head downward while still looking up at her before turning to Sal.

    ¡°That¡¯s Sal of Bavmont, a squire I took on recently.¡±

    ¡°After winning the tournament, yes? I heard it was quite the show, for the locals. A bit beneath someone of your history, though.¡± Turn back to her, he winked.

    ¡°A better test of my abilities than most.¡±

    Nodding, Felden put on a more serious expression. ¡°I would like to discuss business with you. I am embarrassed to admit that I did not expect you to stop here, so I do not have a proper offer to give you, but that simply leaves more room for discussion.

    ¡°I¡¯m just passing through, not looking for business.¡±

    ¡°Please, come to my office, we can sit down and have a talk. Please at least hear me out before turning me down. I promise I have a lot to offer you.¡±

    Keeping her displeasure off her face, Linara nodded. ¡°Fine.¡±

    Calling the room Felden led the two of them to an office seemed misleading. While there was a desk and chair in the corner, the main area of the room was dominated by two lush couches and two armchairs arranged in a rectangle. Taking a seat at one of the chairs, Felden gestured at the couch opposite it. Sal quickly sat down, Linara hesitating a moment before following suit. The girl was nervous and not following her lead. Linara would have to talk to her about that, later.

    ¡°I do not mean to belittle whatever your current plans are, but if you give me three, even just two weeks of your time, I can compensate you many times the usual amount. Would a delay of that much be within your plans?¡± Felden leaned forward, an eager smile on his face, though his body was slightly stiff with underlying tension. Linara looked him over, taking note of this, and gave him a slight frown in return. ¡°You still haven¡¯t told me what exactly you want from me.¡±

    His eyebrows shot upwards, and his smile grew wider still. ¡°Ah! Of course. I was hoping for your expertise in training. You trained the palace guards in Olentor, if I remember correctly. I need that, for my men. They have the equipment but lack the proper training.¡±

    ¡°I assisted in the training of a few dozen.¡± Linara replied flatly. ¡°From what I saw, you have far more than that, and are looking at a much bigger area to defend. This whole city? Why? What¡¯s going on here? I didn¡¯t think there was nobility here. Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Well, um.¡± Her barrage of questions killed his smile. Felden sat back in his seat, bringing his hand to his chin. ¡°I would have you give training to the ten men that I selected to be leaders. They would take it to their squads. I have a structure set up already.¡± Shifting his posture, he sat up straight. ¡°You are correct, I am a self-proclaimed lord. I have pooled resources and I want to not only take charge of this city, but start organizing the Independent Lands as a whole. If there is a war in the southwest, the victor could turn their attention northward. To stop armies the size of Ettsgrad or Celngi, the Independent Lands would have to make a military alliance with Wellant and Olentor. The problem, of course, is that there is no military in the independent lands. I want to change that. If I can bring order to Celkeish, that is a start. I might be able to convince the rules of the other cities to do something similar, and start forming some sort of-¡°

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    ¡°Felden.¡± Linara cut in, bringing the man to a stop. His demeanor had fallen, his former dignity giving way to nervous rambling. ¡°You are making a lot of plans. Do you even have control of Celkeish? This city, to my knowledge, has never had a proper single ruler. It has always been divided. Elected mayors, gangs, wealthy merchants, or self-styled lords like you taking charge of different parts. How much of the populace supports you? Who are your rivals? You are getting ahead of yourself.¡±

    For a moment, he was silent, an intense expression on his face. Suddenly, he rose to his feet, pacing. ¡°Two thirds of the city is behind me. I¡¯ve spoken with families, individuals, and local leaders of various districts. The southern tip of the city appears lawless, but there is an organization that keeps it that way, hiring assassins to kill anyone who steps up. I have carefully avoided that area.¡±

    ¡°Idiot.¡±

    His face went pale as he looked at her. ¡°The bigger picture is-¡°

    ¡°It¡¯s useless and you know that. All your greater plans are useless. What do you want me to do? Train your captains, guard you, eliminate this organization?¡±

    ¡°You are a bodyguard and a master instructor.¡± He said. ¡°If Ferene had shown up instead of you, it would be different, but she left for Ettsgrad shortly after being seen in the independent lands again.¡±

    Hearing the name caused Linara to freeze, focusing intently on Felden. ¡°You know about Ferene? She went to Ettsgrad? Why?¡±

    A quick look of confusion, and then Felden recovered his earlier composure. Sitting back, he smiled at Linara. ¡°I have an information network. Ferene has long been an interest of mine. After another round of slaughtering outlaws, she vanished for several weeks, only to be briefly spotted going south. What her business is in Ettsgrad is anyone¡¯s guess.¡±

    Linara had tracked down Ferene based on rumors. If she could do that, someone with proper informants would have far more information on the girl. If she had gone north and vanished for as long as Felden claimed, Linara had no doubt that Ferene found Yonthal. Any number of things could have happened there, but the girl avoided the worst if she made it out alive. The duration of her stay suggested it had gone well, to some degree.

    ¡°I will discuss your offer with my squire.¡± Linara said suddenly, rising to her feet. Sal quickly stood up beside her, the girl¡¯s lips pressed tightly together, her eyes locked on Linara.

    Felden also stood up, smiling warmly. ¡°Of course. You may stay here while you consider.¡±

    Outside his office, Felden instructed a servant to show them to the guest rooms. The lavish suite of two bedrooms, a common room, and a study were almost as good as the rooms Linara borrowed back in Cefgras. After taking off her armor, Linara heavily fell onto one of the couches in the central room, stretching out and letting out a sigh.

    ¡°So, um¡­You¡¯re a knight?¡±

    Sal stood nearby, still fully dressed, awkwardly holding her hands in front of her.

    ¡°I was close enough, if not a little above them.¡± Linara said, waving a hand.

    ¡°And I¡¯m a squire now?¡±

    ¡°If we consider me a knight, and I¡¯m training you, does that make you a knight in training? You do carry gear and supplies for me. It¡¯s also close enough. Take your armor off and relax, Sal. These revelations don¡¯t change our relationship.¡±

    The girl did as Linara said, sitting on the edge of the other couch, wearing only a thin undershirt and her trousers. ¡°Why are we going to Olentor, Linara?¡±

    ¡°Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°We were going to discuss taking up Felden on his offer, weren¡¯t we? You never told me why we are going there. Or what is there for us.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Linara stared at the ceiling. ¡°I¡¯m in love with the king.¡± She said after some consideration. ¡°He¡¯s married, obviously. Has at least two children, last I heard. I ran away from him because I was scared. Scared of seeing him with someone else. After facing monsters from nightmares and beating some of the best warriors in the land, I was scared to look at the man I love being married to another woman. That¡¯s the truth of me, Sal.¡±

    Keeping her gaze directed upwards, Linara could not see Sal¡¯s expression as silence filled the room. Eventually, she heard a small laugh from her. ¡°You were jealous of me. That¡¯s why you got upset at me before.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Footsteps, then a hand on her shoulders. Sal urged her up, to make a space so she could sit beside Linara. ¡°So why are you going back? To prove to yourself that you can look at him? That¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°I want to check in on him, and the others. I was there for years, and made friends. Guy called Rilren, captain of the royal guard. You¡¯d like him. Handsome, might be a little old for you, though. Great fighter, one of the best. He could have won the tournament back in Bavmont, if he was there. There¡¯s also Vendel. He came and visited me, pointed out my flaws. Good man. Too good for his position. Then there¡¯s Henry, the armorer, and his wife Carlin. Honest people, both are great cooks. Calin always says that Henry¡¯s food tastes like iron, but nobody agrees with her.¡±

    ¡°Just the four?¡±

    ¡°I spent a lot of time with Senral. He was only the prince back then.¡±

    Sal grinned. ¡°Of course. So, you aren¡¯t really in a rush, are you?¡± Linara shook her head. ¡°Let¡¯s take the time to stay here. I want to see you put others through what you¡¯ve done to me.¡±

    Laughing, Linara smiled at Sal, sadness fading. ¡°You think I¡¯m done with you already?¡± The girl¡¯s eyes went wide, faking shock. ¡°I can make the next part of your training helping me train these idiots. They are surely idiots, too.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Linara.¡±

    After eating breakfast the next morning, Linara sought out Felden and told him that she¡¯d agree to his terms, and train his men for no more than three weeks. The two discussed pay for a bit before splitting up, Linara collecting Sal and returning to their rooms.

    Shortly after, a servant knocked on the door. Linara and Sal were led, fully armored, to a large underground chamber where Felden¡¯s selected ten were waiting.

    ¡°Line up.¡± Linara told them after instructing Sal to wait near the entrance. ¡°Let me have a look at you.¡±

    As they formed a line and stood at attention, Linara watched each one carefully. They all seemed to have enough basic training to know what to do, and none were obviously ill-suited to fighting. She immediately wanted to guess they were lone mercenaries or former soldiers, rather than rabble Felden collected from the city.

    ¡°Henrick.¡± She said, noting a slightly shorter man with black hair, bright green eyes, and a slightly twisted nose. ¡°Good to see you again.¡±

    The former guardsman¡¯s eyes went wide, and he nodded in response. ¡°You remember me, milady?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Step forward.¡± Smiling, she guided him out of line, then turned him around to face the others. ¡°Henrick here was a palace guard in Olentor for six years. I instructed him during that time. I know his history. The rest of you are going to tell me your own stories.¡±

    The nine of them each gave a brief history of their experience. Four were mercenaries, and three were soldiers that served in the south. The last two were more interesting. The oldest, a man in his forties, was a retired knight from Wellant. He had taken on the leading role in this group. Velent, the final of the nine, had married the older man¡¯s younger sister and became his apprentice.

    ¡°Alright. Jakop and Gisli, step over here.¡± She called out the knight and the most experienced of the soldiers from the south, leaving the other six in line. ¡°Which of you three do you think has the best chance of beating me?¡± She asked, smiling at them.

    Henrick immediately shook his head. Jakop and Gisli saw this and exchanged a look between each other, before Jakop spoke up. ¡°I¡¯d like to give it a shot.¡±

    ¡°Too bad, you won¡¯t get the chance just yet.¡± Linara told him. ¡°Sal, here¡¯s your first opponent.¡± The girl trotted over as all ten of Felden¡¯s men watched her. Standing next to Linara, she looked up at her teacher. ¡°You and Jakop will have a sparring session. Do you think you can beat a knight from Wellant?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Sal said, looking over at her opponent, frowning.

    Smiling, Linara patted her on the head. ¡°Good. Lesson five: never underestimate an opponent you don¡¯t know, and if you do, make sure you don¡¯t get killed for it. Everyone else, make some space!¡± She turned and barked orders, stepping back to leave the two combatants alone.

    Taking a deep breath, Sal drew her sword, the rings on the back rattling, drawing stares from the men. Jakop had a shield and a longsword. The two faced each other and bowed on Linara¡¯s orders before starting.

    Sal approached slowly, showing caution and a lack of confidence. Jakop took a commanding step forward, towering over the girl as he brought his sword down at her. The blow carried a lot of power - the man was fully prepared to split Sal¡¯s head open if she didn¡¯t block properly. The girl did, placing a hand of the back of her blade as she intercepted the strike. Pushing her opponent¡¯s blade away, Sal stepped back, standing up in her one-legged stance. Jakop frowned, approaching more cautiously before throwing out an experimental thrust.

    With her hand, Sal slapped the flat of Jakop¡¯s sword, dropping her raised foot and bringing her sword down at where his head would be, if he were the same height as her, in a perfect recreation of his earlier strike. The knight blocked with his shield, the sound of Sal¡¯s rings resonating through the room.

    Surprised by either the power or the ferocity of the attack, Jakop stepped back, looking at Sal warily, changing his stance. Linara smiled, knowing the knight¡¯s thought process. He recognized Sal was competent and not an easily dismissed opponent, but didn¡¯t know her full capabilities. Young fighters were often unbalanced, having devoted a lot of time to developing proficiency in certain areas. If he could figure out what Sal was lacking, he could defeat her easily, but if he let her utilize her strengths he could end up losing.

    Out of the three she selected, the knight probably had the best chance of beating Sal. Henrick could do it, but he was too used to fighting in a group. Adapting to a one on one fight wasn¡¯t his strong suit. She didn¡¯t know about the mercenary, she doubted that he had more experience in this kind of situation than Jakop.

    Rising his shield, Jakop swung it at Sal, challenging her to react to the fact he had two potential weapons. The girl stepped back, just barely avoiding being struck, and was able to block the following sword strike with her own blade, once more placing her free hand on the back of his sword. This time, however, when she pushed his blade away from her, she pushed it towards him, stepping into a gap created. Jakop¡¯s arms were suddenly in the wrong places, and Sal shot a kick at his shin. He stumbled backwards, eyes wide. Sal followed, poking with the same light thrust he had used on her earlier. Recovering, he swatted the jab aside, but Sal was already moving, copying Grathen¡¯s fake feint at the shoulder. Jakop made the same mistake that Linara had, and the result was also identical. Her curved sword failed to pierce the knight¡¯s pauldron, making a skittering sound as it slid off the metal.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Linara called, and both combatants stepped away from each other. ¡°Do any of you think you can beat this girl?¡± She asked once the rest of them had gathered again. There were a few looks shared between them, some of them shaking their heads, but a few stated that they wanted to try. ¡°How would you beat her?¡± Linara asked the four had spoken out.

    The mercenary she had called up before was one of them. Gisli pointed at Sal. ¡°She¡¯s short, and her weapon doesn¡¯t have a lot of range. On top of that, it isn¡¯t good against armor. Overpower her directly, trusting my armor to protect me.¡±

    ¡°Stupid, but brave. How did you avoid getting killed until now, thinking like that?¡±

    Gisli laughed. ¡°I only think like that when I can afford to.¡±

    Smiling, Linara looked over the ten of them. She wasn¡¯t sure they needed her instruction, but she¡¯d do what she had agreed to. They needed training to be leaders, and Linara knew she wasn¡¯t that.

 Chapter 5, Book 2: The Price of Independence - Part 2

    Despite her reservations, Linara did her best. She took her eleven students - Sal and Felden¡¯s ten men - and taught them whatever she could, as fast they could learn it. For Sal, this was an entirely different set of lessons than what they had done on the road. How a small group can coordinate to take out a larger enemy force. Identifying and eliminating the greatest threats. Seeing signs of stress and weakness in your allies and what to do about it. These were methods of the Hatharen people, not the palace guard in Olentor. There was no prince to defend, since she highly doubted Felden was going to be exposing himself to danger in the same way. She would make six of them participate in a mock situation at the time, leaving the others to take the role of opponents, or simply observe.

    ¡°Why six?¡± Sal asked at one point. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t two groups of five be better? One would be left out, but that would be better than five being left out, right?¡±

    ¡°Humans like five. Hatharen like six. It¡¯s how I learned, even though I was a seventh.¡±

    The girl gave her a confused look, but did not ask further.

    Sal and Linara¡¯s schedule focused entirely around teaching the group. They woke up, ate, and went down to the basement room to find the ten men waiting there. Linara alternated between making them fight, having discussions of ideas, and mock scenarios, until a break was called for lunch. After two hours of rest, they would regroup and start over until another break was called for dinner.

    Linara smiled and praised progress whenever she could, but inside her she felt guilt. Her instruction was inadequate, both for the money she was being paid and the expectations of the men. All of them were good people who wanted to help Felden change the city to benefit the entire region. They wanted to be prepared to stand against the threat of an invasion from the larger nations to the south, but Linara could not help them with that. ¡°I¡¯m not a rank and file foot soldier. Where I come from we don¡¯t have ranks of any kind. We just know how to fight for our own survival.¡± She repeated those words at least once a day.

    Despite Linara¡¯s stress, Sal seemed to be having a wonderful time, both in and out of the training sessions. Using her unique talents on the older men brought looks of joy to the girl¡¯s face, and whenever one of them beat her she internalized her mistakes immediately. The dynamic of the mock duels between her and the men quickly took on a standard form. Sal fought defensively, either waiting for an opening or a repeated attack she could react to. The men needed to overwhelm her and defeat her before that happened. The patience of the older fighters only gave Sal more time to study their movement and habits, forcing them to be more inventive.

    During lunch and dinner, as well as the free time afterward, Linara would see Sal spending time with one of the manor¡¯s servants. A young-looking, tall boy around her age. He seemed to be part of the kitchen staff, as some days during breakfast he¡¯d stop by and give Sal some extra food - usually a pastry or a bowl of fruit.

    ¡°I see you are making friends here.¡± Linara remarked one night after they returned to their rooms. Sal¡¯s face immediately turned red, and she looked away. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it that much. As long as you know we are leaving soon, and that you can¡¯t take him with us.¡±

    The followup statement pushed her over the edge. Sal seemed to shake, trying to contain embarrassment. ¡°I¡¯m-I¡¯m just, um, we just kissed a few times.¡± She said, waving her hands anxiously. ¡°N-nothing more than that. Just fun, nothing s-serious!¡±

    ¡°You can come back here, when you are done with your training.¡±

    Sal¡¯s mouth opened, then closed. She sat down on the couch, hands on her knees. ¡°M-maybe.¡± She said, quietly.

    On the first day of the third week, only nine men were waiting for Linara in the basement.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Denham?¡±

    The second youngest of the group, a farmer-turned-mercenary from the western region, was missing.

    ¡°He joined some of his men on patrol last night.¡± Velent answered. The two youngest had become friends of sorts.

    Linara focused on him, unblinking. ¡°Did he come back?¡± The young man pushed his lips together, shaking his head. ¡°Then go find out. Now.¡± He immediately ran out of the room. Linara had a bad feeling about this. Celkeish might be large, but an ongoing power struggle could only stay cold for so long before one side made a move. While Felden had Linara training his forces, his opponents would not simply wait.

    She led a short discussion, gaining a bit of information about the state of the city, when Velent returned, flustered. ¡°Neither Denham nor his men returned last night.¡±

    Linara swore. ¡°Gisli, Jakop, Velent. Gather your twelve best men. Henrick, you are in charge of the rest. Defend the manor.¡±

    Henrick instantly saluted. It was an Olentor-style salute, out of place here, but she didn¡¯t correct him. The three she had named stepped forward. ¡°Are we going on the offensive?¡± Gisli asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to find our stray. That may or may not mean going on the offensive. In the meantime we can¡¯t overlook the possibility of Felden¡¯s political opponents mounting an attack while we are out. That¡¯s why I only want a small force.¡± There were other reasons, of course. She didn¡¯t trust herself to be able to properly command a larger group, especially in a city. Things could easily get out of hand. ¡°Sal, you¡¯re coming with me.¡±

    The girl, who had stepped towards the group staying behind, turned to Linara, eyes wide. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°You are my squire, are you not?¡±

    Her face broke into a smile. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am!¡±

    Half an hour later, the group marched out the manor gate. It was not an orderly procession, but it wasn¡¯t a complete mess. While Linara had no experience or interest in parade ground drills, she immediately felt how much of a difference it would make for them to have exited in perfect ranks. At the very least everyone but her and Sal had matching uniforms, giving a decent semblance of unity and order.

    Denham¡¯s patrol had vanished near the southern tip of Felden¡¯s part of the city. Not exactly on the border of the zone controlled by his opponents, but close enough to it. She led the party through the wider streets southward. They had not even gotten close to where the patrol was last seen when Linara saw the first sign of trouble.

    A horse-drawn carriage rattled down the cobblestones towards them, in the exact center of the road. The easiest way to let it pass would be for her party to split down the middle, but Linara stepped to the side, waving those behind her to follow. As the cart passed, the horses broke free, the wooden wagon itself catching fire.

    If it had been in the middle of them, it would have been utter chaos. As it was, the fire resulted in only minor chaos. Some of the men moved to grab the horses, others turned to try to stop the carriage from rolling further down the street, while others turned to look for the cause of the fire. Linara turned to the nearest alley just in time to see two men point crossbows at her.

    Her knife hit one of the men in the chest, and he stumbled backwards, firing his weapon uselessly upwards. ¡°Crossbows in the alleys!¡± She shouted, lifting her spear. Most of Felden¡¯s men had bucklers, which were immediately raised, but she saw several of them get hit. Leaving the command to the captains, Linara rushed into the alley as the second man fired. His bolt failed to puncture her armor, and she ran her spear through his stomach. The assailants were unarmored, but behind the first two were more. Linara took down another with a stab to the neck as Sal appeared beside her, her sword singing a rattling song as she delivered a powerful slash to the fourth man¡¯s shoulder, cutting deep into his flesh.

    With the alley cleared, the two returned to the main street. The skirmish was already over. Apparently it had only been a small attack. Linara frowned. These were assassins, not soldiers. They weren¡¯t expecting to deal with even the relatively small force that Linara had brought with her. Of the five of Felden¡¯s men that were hit, two had died - one immediately from a bolt to the eye, and the other shortly after as he bled out from a shot to the stomach.  Two of the other three were too wounded to keep fighting. Linara had Gisli assign the final wounded man and two others to carry them back.

    ¡°Jakop, Gisli.¡± She called the older knight and the soldier forward as the remaining men formed up, staying alert. They did not continue their advance yet.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°Thoughts on the point of this attack? Twelve of them against forty one of us.¡±

    ¡°If they split us with the wagon and had more confusion, they would have been able to pick off several and run.¡± Gisli supplied. ¡°Regroup for another attack with better odds later.¡±

    ¡°They could have prepared this before knowing our numbers, and gone with it anyway to stall us.¡±

    ¡°They did thin our numbers and they did stall us, but they lost more than we did. Alright, let¡¯s keep going. Stay alert for more ambushes.¡±

    It was hard to get a grasp on what her opponent was thinking, since she didn¡¯t know who the enemy leader was. Felden¡¯s vague mentions of a criminal organization that hired assassins didn¡¯t give her much to go on. ¡°Sal, are you alright?¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, why?¡± The girl had wiped the dead man¡¯s blood off her face, but it still stained her clothes and armor.

    ¡°Was that the first time you killed someone?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll think about it later. Have to focus now.¡±

    ¡°Good girl.¡± Linara patted her on the head.

    The group reached the so-called border without running into any more ambushes. Linara wasn¡¯t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The southernmost district had no distinct line separating it, Gisli just pointed at yet another regular looking intersection of two streets and said that they had arrived.

    ¡°So, what now?¡± The soldier asked.

    Linara frowned. There was no enemy in front of her. No direct fighting. She had someone to protect, but didn¡¯t know where they were. ¡°Do these people have a headquarters?¡±

    The man stared at her. ¡°Is your plan to just¡­walk up to them?¡±

    ¡°And start making demands. Yes. Best case, they get intimidated and just hand Denham over. Worst case he¡¯s already dead. Most likely scenario is they use him as a hostage to force us to leave. We can bargain there, gain information to exploit them.¡±

    Gisli rubbed his bearded chin, then nodded. ¡°Arran.¡± He said, turning his men. One stepped forward - a tall, lanky-looking young boy whose armor looked both too wide and too short for his frame. ¡°Ideas, lad?¡±

    The youth looked first at Gisli, then at Linara, then back to his captain. ¡°Usedtah beah place bydah wesside.¡± He spoke slowly but slid between words, combining them in very improper ways. ¡°Yearsago, dunno if¡¯t¡¯ll be thessame place. Couldah moved.¡±

    ¡°Show us the way, lad.¡±

    Nodding, he raised a long arm and pointed. ¡°Thaway.¡± He said before taking the lead, quickly moving down the street.

    ¡°He¡¯s a good kid.¡± Gisli commented. Linara nodded, but had her own doubts. The boy looked younger than Sal. Too young to be out here, risking his life, but mercenaries started young in the independent lands. Sal was years late to find a mentor.

    Arran led them to a large warehouse, fortified by a tall wooden fence. As they approached, a man on the outside pulled aside a plank and vanished inside.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of pushing into that gap blind. Is there another entrance?¡±

    ¡°Back hassa gap.¡± Arran said. ¡°Can slipin, if ya small. I usedtah sneak an¡¯ listen when iwassa kid.¡±

    Linara frowned. The top of the youth¡¯s head came up to her shoulder. ¡°How small?¡± She asked. Arran looked past Linara, to Sal. ¡°Right.¡± Linara said. She didn¡¯t want to send Sal in, alone, but the girl was, in this culture, an adult. Just as much a professional as anyone else here. ¡°Sal, you¡¯re going to sneak in, find out if they are waiting for us to come through the gate or hiding deeper within. Arran can show you the way in, and the rest of us will stay here, in case they are watching. Get going.¡±

    When Linara had first addressed her, a smile bloomed across the girl¡¯s face, but she quickly became serious upon recognizing Linara¡¯s tone. Nodding sharply, the two left, vanishing back into the surrounding houses to approach without being seen. Linara turned to stare at the front gate. It was mostly disguised, with no obvious door, but the dirt below clearly showed where people came in and out. The place must have started out hidden but as the group gained more power, they stopped caring.

    While she waited, Linara sent several guards to get closer to the wall, carefully advancing with shields raised. There was no response. Frowning, she called them back and considered her next move. Waiting was stressful. She wanted to be the one doing something. Moving forward herself, drawing the attention of the assembled men, she knocked on the disguised door.

    After a moment, it opened up, revealing a grinning Sal. ¡°Nobody outside.¡± She said,

    ¡°I told you to come back from the back.¡±

    The girl shrugged. ¡°Someone knocked on the door, so I figured I¡¯d open it.¡±

    With a sigh, Linara stepped inside the compound. The warehouse behind the wall looked like an ordinary wooden structure without windows, and a large barn-style door in the front. Walking forward, Linara banged on it with her fist as two thirds of her forces entered. She had instructed Gisli to keep his men outside.

    There was no response from the door this time. Linara slammed it again. ¡°My name is Linara. I¡¯m here for Denham and his men. Bring them out.¡±

    This time, there was a response. The two halves of the massive door slowly slid open, revealing a dark entrance. Black curtains hung close to the entrance, limiting what the light from outside illuminated. A single man stood there, bald-headed and wearing a simple gray robe. He smiled at her. ¡°You¡¯ve brought a lot of men.¡±

    As soon as he finished speaking, chaos erupted. A swarm of people ran out from the curtains. Plain-clothed, they might have been servants, or random people from the city collected for this purpose. They appeared unarmed, and many were crying or screaming as they ran at Linara and Felden¡¯s city guards.

    The leading runner tried to veer around her, and Linara swept his legs, dropping him to the ground. In the time it took her to do that, many of them had run past her. She was sure the scene behind her was messy. Would the guards see foes, or bystanders? Likely a mix of both. Linara tripped another, but then one ran directly at her, a knife materializing in the woman¡¯s hand. Her face was twisted in a scream, but unlike the fear and panic of the others, she looked desperate, frantic, and wild. Bloodthirsty. Knocking the attacker¡¯s knife hand away with her spear, Linara grabbed the woman with her other hand and forcefully shoved her into the dirt.

    There were screams behind her, but in front of her she saw more people emerging from behind the curtain. Ten men wearing metal armor, complete with full-face helmets pushed their way through as the man in the robe stood there, smiling, a lone figure of stillness amid the chaos.

    Immediately, Sal was by her side. Linara didn¡¯t have time to check on the girl before charging forward, swinging her spear at two of the armored men. More than twenty of the men behind her were likely still dealing with the initial mass of people. She could easily buy some time for them.

    Parrying a sword swing from one of her attackers, she kicked him in his armored knee. The blow did little more than force him back, but it gave her a second to deal with the other. She managed to block his attack just in time, catching his sword with the haft of her spear and pushing it to the side. He stumbled forward, his attack overzealous, not expecting her to respond so fast. Taking one hand off her weapon, she drew her knife and slammed it into the eye-slit of his helmet.

    The man she kicked approached her again, more cautiously, his stance wide. In the corner of her eye, Linara saw Sal spinning in one of Grathen¡¯s dance-like moves, sliding in close to her opponent and replicating the quick, heavy strike he had used, her sword somehow finding a gap in the man¡¯s armor around his neck.

    Linara¡¯s second opponent proved more difficult than the first, not leaving himself open, instead taking up her time by threatening but not committing to an attack. He was stalling her. Ten more of the armored men emerged from the curtain behind him. Linara swallowed, but a yell sounded behind her. Quickly, she ducked to the side, and Jakop charged in, bullrushing Linara¡¯s cautious opponent. Velent followed, taking up position beside his mentor. Linara still didn¡¯t look back towards the entrance, instead finding another armored foe to square off against.

    This one she swiped across the legs, dropping him onto his back, and rammed the point of her spear through his neck, putting her full weight behind it, piercing his armor. Another stepped forward, and she bashed his helmet with the butt of her spear, forcing him to stumble into one of his comrades. The two of them bounced off each other, falling into a heap. Armored though they were, they were not overly experienced, especially when fighting together. She dispatched the two before they could rise to their feet, and moved on to the next. Jakop and Velent held their own, slowly dispatching their foes, and Sal dropped her second, proving that her weapon could, with some care, be used against armor.

    By the time the fight was over, Linara had dispatched six foes, finally taking the time to look back at the wall surrounding the warehouse. Bodies littered the ground, most of them plainly-clothed civilians, but a few wearing the colors of Felden¡¯s soldiers. Daggers and hand-axes were visible near some of the corpses. Assassins hidden in the crowd. She didn¡¯t know how many were allowed to pass.

    Looking back at the warehouse, the man in the robe was nowhere to be seen. ¡°Sal!¡± She called out, and the girl approached her, smiling wide before she stumbled, falling against Linara. Catching her apprentice, Linara found her hands wet with blood. ¡°Sal! Are you hurt?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± The girl giggled.

    Blood was slowly soaking the girl¡¯s metal-studded shirt. Linara found the source - a stab wound near the bottom of her rib cage. She could feel her own body grow cold. A Hatharen wouldn¡¯t be at any risk from this, but humans were more fragile. How fragile? In the castle, the procedure if someone was wounded was to take them to someone with experience and not mess anything up by doing it herself.

    ¡°Jakop!¡± She yelled, and the knight immediately appeared by her side. ¡°Does anyone know medicine? Anything? She¡¯s bleeding.¡± They had helped the other wounded, back in the alley. Someone knew something. Linara¡¯s brain swam. She had dealt with people being hurt, people dying, before. Hatharen dying around her. Humans suffering from injuries. This was different. This was Sal. Years of experience did nothing to calm her down. Jakop said something, and turned away, yelling someone¡¯s name. Linara couldn¡¯t hear him.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Sal said, looking up at Linara. ¡°Is it bad?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel bad. I got two of them. Just the way you said.¡±

    ¡°I know. You got them.¡± Linara said.

    Someone appeared next to her, taking Sal from her arms. Linara didn¡¯t put up any resistance, instead watching as the man pulled Sal¡¯s reinforced shirt off. There was a lot of blood. It was wrong for them to be seeing her bare chest like this. Sal looked even smaller as the man placed her on the ground, examining the wound.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine.¡± He said.

    Her mind froze, the rush of thoughts coming to a sudden stop. ¡°She will?¡± Linara asked.

    ¡°We have to stop the bleeding but that¡¯s all it is. She, and several of the others, need to be taken somewhere safe.¡±

    ¡°Get it done.¡± Linara said, standing up. She wanted to go with Sal, to make sure the girl would be safe. Not to abandon her. However, her job was to find Denham and his men. The missing guards. Taking a deep breath, Linara turned to Jakop. ¡°How many do we have that can fight? Not counting those outside.¡±

    ¡°Ten.¡± The old knight said. ¡°Six dead, eight heavily wounded, counting the girl. We¡¯ll need some of Gisli¡¯s men to take them out of here.¡±

    ¡°Good. Make it happen. Send Velent with them. The-¡°

    The young man immediately spoke up. ¡°Why?¡±

    Linara gave him a sharp look. Not quite a glare, but she looked at him with her entire focus. He immediately seemed to shrink in on himself. ¡°You are one of the leaders. If we are sending so many back, with an escort, they will need a leader to keep them organized, to make them feel safe. This is important. Be on the lookout for more ambushes on the way back.¡±

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡± He said, turning and leaving.

    ¡°And find someone to come and take a look at these people.¡± She yelled after him. Not all of the mob that had run out of the warehouse was dead. Whoever they were, she didn¡¯t want to leave them there, but her own job was more important, as much as she hated it. She wanted to help everyone. Turning to Jakop and the last six guards, she pointed at the entrance to the warehouse, still covered in curtains. ¡°Main goal is to find Denham and his patrol. He should be inside somewhere. Second goal is to find the bald man in the robe.¡±

 Chapter 6, Book 2: A Night as a Knight - Part 1

    ¡°You wan ta wha?¡±

    ¡°Take the meal outside. M¡¯friends don¡¯t like crowds. They¡¯re waiting in our wagon.¡±

    Ferene¡¯s attention was drawn away from her own meal by the odd conversation taking place in the roadside tavern. A man donning a well-worn raincoat talked with the proprietor, confusing the heavily-bearded man with his strange request.

    ¡°Ya wan ta take a tray and dishes out? Will ye bring em back?¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± The man in the raincoat replied. ¡°I¡¯ll uh, give you some extra coin as, as collateral, and you can give it back when I return them. Will that work? So you know I won¡¯t run away with anything of yours.¡±

    There was a short bit of silence, the bearded owner looking at whatever was in the coated man¡¯s hand, followed by him nodding. ¡°Honestly be a better deal for me if you took them, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re giving. Wait over there, I¡¯ll have a girl bring it out shortly.¡± He said, limping over towards the kitchen. Ferene watched the man in the raincoat pull his hood back and run his hands through his short, black hair, then start shifting back and forth as he stood, waiting.

    The situation stuck out as odd. The roadside inn was not overly crowded, less than ten people, with multiple empty tables. Ferene couldn¡¯t help but think the man was hiding something. She considered leaving him alone, but decided against it. He might be in trouble, or he might be trouble. She hurriedly ate the rest of her bread and soup, then left the building. She had not paid for a room, only the food, planning on walking further tonight. Instead, she rounded the corner of the building, going the long way around to the side with a line of wagons. Peeking around the corner, she saw a wagon with two horses still roped to the front, but didn¡¯t see any people. Leaning against the wall, she waited.

    The man did nothing to hide his presence, his feet crunching along the ground as he walked up to the new wagon. Ferene waited, listening. The footsteps stopped, and she waited, giving him time to climb inside, before she quietly rounded the corner and crept forward.

    ¡°We¡¯ll take the gag off of you so you can eat. You scream and we¡¯ll have to run. You won¡¯t be getting any more food if that happens. Don¡¯t want to go hungry, do you?¡± The first voice was the man who had gotten the food.

    ¡°It would be better if-¡°

    ¡°Quiet!¡± The first of the two new voices sounded feminine, but a second masculine voice quickly cut that one off. ¡°No talking, just eating. Say another word and you¡¯ll be gagged again.¡±

    Stepping closer to the back of the wagon, Ferene drew her short sword.

    ¡°One more day of this, and we¡¯ll be able to give her away. Then nobody will be looking for us, when they look for her.¡± The third voice said.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way we¡¯ll get what she¡¯s actually worth, but it¡¯ll be enough.¡± Raincoat¡¯s voice.

    Instead of using the step mounted on the back, Ferene jumped upwards, landing crouched in the bed of the canvas-covered wagon, sword in hand. The man in the raincoat sat across from another man, in a similarly worn smock, while a woman knelt between them, the ropes around her torso not obscuring her finely-made tunic. In one hand she held a piece of bread, while the other was bound to her side. All three of them stared upwards at Ferene.

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Before Ferene or the men could make a move, the bound woman spoke. ¡°Do not hurt these men!¡±

    Her tone was so commanding, and the order so odd, Ferene froze. Her eyes were locked on the hand of the second man, who had started reaching for a knife before the woman spoke up. Rather than stabbing him, Ferene grabbed the weapon with her empty hand and tossed it out the back of the wagon.

    ¡°Why?¡± Ferene asked, still holding her sword. Neither of the men moved, both of them staring at her weapon.

    The woman, despite her situation, smiled up at Ferene. ¡°They kidnapped me, but they aren¡¯t bad people. Could you untie me? You two won¡¯t try anything while she does that, will you?¡±

    The woman on the floor looked first to the man in the raincoat, who nodded. The man in the smock did the same. Still confused, Ferene walked forward, kneeling in front of the woman to start working on the ropes. There were three of them - one around her lower rib cage and her elbow, another around her thighs and her hand. The third one bound her ankles together. When Ferene untied the last one, she stood up to her full height, putting her chest level with the kneeling Ferene¡¯s head. When the woman helped her savior up, Ferene stood several heads taller than her.

    ¡°Now! As I was trying to say, it would be a lot better for the two of you if you did not go through with your rather insane plan. A lot of people that you know will end up dead. I¡¯d like to a-are you a Hatharen?¡± Her scolding came to an abrupt stop as she looked up at Ferene.

    ¡°My father is.¡±

    ¡°Oh, half and half! Just like Linara! How exciting. Now-¡°

    ¡°You know Linara?¡± Ferene asked.

    The woman seemed a little surprised at the interruption, looking at Ferene for a moment before nodding. ¡°Yes, we¡¯ll talk about that later. Now!¡± She turned to the two men, once again trying to start. ¡°I want to make an arrangement with the two of you, and, by extension, your people. If you are facing extortion, perhaps instead of trying to kidnap me, you could have asked me for help.¡±

    The two stared at her for a moment, then exchanged a glance with each other. ¡°We ain¡¯t got money to begin with.¡± Raincoat said.

    ¡°No way you¡¯d send a group of profess¡¯nal soldiers out to help a buncha peasants.¡±

    ¡°The army is there specifically to defend the population. Now, your group may not be citizens of Wellant, but if the group is causing large enough problems near the border, they are worth looking into. Just a show of force can be enough to drive away rabble.¡±

    ¡°They ain¡¯t rabble. They got a fort. They¡¯re trained soldiers themselves.¡±

    The objection did nothing to halt the woman¡¯s positivity. ¡°So a military threat, along our border? Even more of a reason to mobilize a force. Tell me what they have done to you.¡±

    ¡°They claimed the land. They take a part of the farmer¡¯s harvest, as a tax. If you resist they¡¯ll kill you, burn your house down as a warning. There was another hamlet nearby they destroyed. Put the skeletons on spikes. We think the ones they didn¡¯t kill they brought back to their fort.¡±

    Ferene listened to the conversation in silence, up until then. She became restless, hearing the details. Angry. ¡°How many of them are there? What¡¯s the fort like?¡±

    All three of the other people in the wagon turned to look at her, suddenly remembering she was there. ¡°Old stone wall surrounding some buildings. Got a gate, too. Never seen more than ten at once.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill them.¡± She said,

    After a moment of silence, the woman spoke up. ¡°You two, why don¡¯t you clean up here. I¡¯m going to go have a private talk with this one.¡± Walking around Ferene, she climbed down the back of the wagon. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s talk elsewhere. Introduce ourselves properly.¡±

    Ferene followed.

    ¡°My name is Cerise. I¡¯m a noble in Wellant.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Ferene.¡±

    Cerise blinked, looking up at Ferene as they stood in the woods behind the tavern. ¡°Well, it¡¯s nice to meet you, Ferene. I¡¯m very, very glad you showed up when you did. I always wanted a big, strong woman to save me, though the circumstances I imagined were usually different than the ones I found myself in. However!¡± She coughed. ¡°I¡¯d like to request that you take me back to Wellant. I can tell you about Linara on the way, and when we get there, we can discuss what to do about the fort full of crazy murderers.¡±

    The small woman was strange, but she was right. Fighting ten trained soldiers alone was exactly what Ferene would have done before she met Linara, and it was exactly the kind of thing that would have ended in her death. As much as she wanted to fight to the death against those scum, there was more she wanted to do. ¡°Fine.¡± She said,

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    A smile spreading across her face, Cerise grabbed Ferene¡¯s gauntleted hand. ¡°Wonderful! I¡¯ll get to introduce my savior to everyone. We¡¯ll send those two on their way, and the two of us will travel north into Wellant together! A romantic walk through the countryside. I can show you all the sights.¡±

    Though Ferene didn¡¯t smile back, she found herself unable to do anything but nod in response to the statement. Cerise¡¯s smile completely overwhelmed her with positivity, the woman¡¯s smile containing too much joy for Ferene to disagree with her description of the plan.

    ¡°So you know Linara?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I met her once. Only once, when I visited Olentor. Very nice. Very tall. Didn¡¯t talk to me much at all.¡± Ferene wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that, only nodding. ¡°How do you know her?¡±

    ¡°She saved me from a mistake I made.¡± Ferene said, then added, ¡°We saved some children together after that.¡±

    The second part brought Cerise¡¯s smile back. ¡°Comrades in arms fighting to save the helpless! What happened after that?¡±

    ¡°She decided we didn¡¯t work well together. She told me how to find a Hatharen village, and we went our separate ways.¡±

    Her smile faded slightly. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get back to the others, and tell them the plan. We can talk more on the road.¡±

    Ferene hated leaving the problem behind her, letting the two go, wagon and all. She tried to think about all the times she had walked away from potential evil, potential wrongness. In Cefgras, she killed the worst person she could find. How many smaller criminals remained? How many much worse people did she not come across? This was no different. Except, this time, she knew they were there, and she was walking away from them.

    Cerise seemed to not care. Though she walked in the same silence as Ferene, there was an energy about her. She was enjoying herself, Ferene could feel it just from being near her.

    ¡°Tell me about the other Hatharen.¡±

    Cerise¡¯s words broke the hour-long silence of the road. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I expected to find there, but I was surprised by them. Many times.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to go back there?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± The response put them both into silence, for a time.

    ¡°What are they like? How do they live? Are they like humans?¡±

    ¡°Humans are naturally violent people, but aren¡¯t very good at it. Hatharen are not violent, but they are masters in it.¡±

    Cerise faltered. ¡°I meant more like, well, day to day life.¡±

    ¡°They live every day like it could be their last. They have a lot of days. They can live forever, but they are drawn to violence. They know they can die. They train, they eat meals as a family, they do what they can to help each other, and they wait for the day they will go out to fight and never come back.¡±

    ¡°What are they fighting?¡±

    Ferene wondered if she had already said too much. Once again, she was walking with someone, and she found herself talking. Travel companions had a way of getting words out of her. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you that.¡±

    Cerise instantly moved on. ¡°You mentioned families. Was your family there?¡±

    ¡°I found one.¡± She didn¡¯t just miss Rilya, but the rest of them. Telhrian reaching out to her. Sathar silently watching her, waiting to show that he understood her, and standing with her before the elders. Filraehen, looking at her wounds, cooking meals, and smiling with Sathar and Ilraehen. Quiet Alri, who she never really got to know. Even Ilraehen - he wanted to protect them all, and learned that he was wrong about her. Ferene wished she could have stayed with them, wished the world was different.

    ¡°Brothers and sisters? Parents, relatives?¡±

    ¡°Six others. Unrelated. Three pairs assigned to each other for stupid reasons. One family.¡±

    ¡°I¡­see.¡±

    They fell back into silence that was only broken when Cerise asked for a break. The woman looked exhausted. Despite her size, she had kept up with Ferene¡¯s pace for the first third of the day, but it had clearly taken a lot out of her. Ferene guided her off the road and sat down, Cerise sitting beside her. The woman panted, unbuttoning her outer shirt. ¡°This was not made to be worn while walking this long.¡±

    ¡°How did you get caught?¡± The tunic was obviously very well made, but the woman seemed incomplete. She had nothing but the clothes she was wearing. No weapons or bags of any kind.

    ¡°I left the city for a short walk, without telling anyone. A very bad thing to do. I stopped to chat with those two as they passed by, and they realized I was worth something. I tried to do what I was taught, and talk them out, but they very quickly gagged me. Then I was in the back of the wagon, heading for the border.¡±

    ¡°What were you taught to do?¡±

    She smiled at Ferene. ¡°Secure my safety. Don¡¯t run, because I could get hurt if they chased. Try to reason with them, offer them what they want, within reason. Don¡¯t get on their bad side. Don¡¯t try to escape.¡±

    Ferene didn¡¯t understand that, but decided not to push the issue. Cerise leaned against her, panting slightly less heavily.

    ¡°Did you get along with your family?¡± She asked after another long silence.

    ¡°I did.¡±

    Cerise stopped leaning on Ferene. ¡°Do you dislike me?¡±

    Ferene shrugged in response. ¡°We just met.¡±

    ¡°I feel like you¡¯re avoiding my questions.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not good at talking.¡±

    Cerise laughed. ¡°You aren¡¯t deliberately avoiding giving me an answer? That¡¯s sort of cute.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    Leaning on her again, Cerise rested her head on Ferene¡¯s arm. ¡°Do you have a lover?¡±

    ¡°I have two.¡±

    The woman¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°Would you like a third?¡±

    ¡°We just met.¡±

    Once more, Cerise laughed, sitting up on her own again. ¡°My older sister told me that if I did that to someone, they¡¯d be falling over themselves to give me whatever I wanted. I guess she was talking about men, and not women.¡±

    ¡°Did what?¡± Ferene asked.

    Cerise stood up, buttoning up her shirt. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Let¡¯s keep going.¡±

    The sound of hooves reached Ferene¡¯s ears after only half an hour of walking. Rapid, heavy pounding from the direction they came from. Turning around, Ferene pushed Cerise behind her while she drew her sword with the other. Four riders bore down on them, kicking up a cloud of dirt in their wake. Two of them had short lances, the other two swords. All four wore the same kind of metal chestplate, with their limbs unarmored.

    The riders came to a stop, fanning out in a half-circle around the two of them. ¡°There she is, just like the farmers told us,¡± the first one said, the man smiling as he reached up to push his black hair out of his eyes. ¡°Cerise. I¡¯d like you to come with us.¡±

    ¡°What farmers?¡± Cerise asked from behind Ferene.

    ¡°A pair peasants working under us came back from the market short-handed. We asked them how they were going to pay us back, and after a bit of convincing, they told us that they had intended to give us a certain someone worth a good ransom.¡±

    Ferene felt Cerise shiver. ¡°W-where will you take me, if I go with you?¡±

    ¡°Somewhere safer than the open road. Who knows what might happen to you here, without proper protection. A single body guard is not nearly enough for someone of your status.¡±

    Ferene looked up at the speaker, then at the others. Their equipment was better quality than most criminals, and they all moved with the confidence of trained soldiers. Behind her, Cerise let out a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll go with you, if you insist.¡±

    ¡°We do.¡±

    The speaker raised a hand, and Ferene burst into motion, spinning to her side just in time to block a sword swing from one of the riders that had moved to encircle them. Cerise screamed as one of the others grabbed her. Ferene struck the rider that attacked her, slicing her sword across the woman¡¯s thigh, dodging out of the way as the wounded horse toppled over.

    Turning, she saw one of the others toss Cerise to the rider that spoke, the short woman being handled like baggage as the man slung her across the front of his saddle. The third rider charged directly at Ferene, but she moved to the side of his horse opposite his spear, swinging upwards at him. Her sword hit his breastplate and slid off, but not before he was knocked from his saddle, trailing awkwardly behind his horse as the beast continued to run. The last two turned their steeds and kicked at the beasts¡¯ sides.

    Ferene specialized in running, so she ran. As hard and fast as she could, she tried to close the space between her and the two retreating horses. Just a few strides. A horse had twice as many legs, but weighed more, and one of the two animals, the one that mattered, was carrying both an armed and armored man as well as Cerise. Ferene reached out, her hand touching the horse¡¯s hips, her fingers sliding underneath the strap wrapping around the back legs.

    Before she could think of what to do next, the mount outpaced her. Ferene lost her footing, being pulled forward, her grip tight. Panicking, the animal ran to the side, Ferene¡¯s extra weight throwing off its balance. The rider didn¡¯t swing his weapon at her, unable to reach her without striking his horse. In front of her, Ferene saw Cerise, hanging across the front of the saddle, looking at her, the woman¡¯s eyes wide with fear.

    The horse came to a stop in protest of the three people¡¯s weight, panicking and kicking at Ferene as she got her feet back under her. Before the rider could make another run for it, Ferene grabbed Cerise by the collar and pulled. The woman easily slid out of the rider¡¯s grasp as he held his sword in one hand and the reins in the other, only keeping his captive in place with the weight of the hand holding the reins.

    The man yelled to his companion as he turned to face Ferene, but she was already swinging her oversized sword, one-handed, in a broad, wild stroke aimed at his head. The blade sliced across his neck, and he brought his hand up, trying to stop the massive flow of blood. A few seconds later he fell, the horse turning and running after the other as the final rider fled the scene.

    Ferene stood, sword in one hand, Cerise in the other, panting heavily. The last time she had fought trained soldiers, it had gone very, very badly.

    ¡°You¡­you killed them.¡±

    ¡°I said I would.¡±

    ¡°P-please put me down.¡±

    Ferene belatedly set Cerise down, the woman immediately leaning against her, turning away from the sight of the dead man in front of her. She was shaking. ¡°I agreed not to go after them, but I won¡¯t let them take you.¡± Cerise said something, but Ferene didn¡¯t hear it. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°W-will you be my knight?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

 Chapter 6, Book 2: A Night as a Knight - Part 2

    The two traveled down the road in silence for several minutes before Cerise stopped, looked around for a moment, then fell down onto her knees. Wrapping her arms around herself, the woman sat on the ground, shaking silently. Ferene knelt down beside her.

    ¡°Earlier, you said you had a sister.¡± Cerise nodded in response. ¡°I learned I have an older sister. A half-sister. I met her, once, I think. She didn¡¯t talk to me then. Can you tell me what having a sister is like?¡±

    Nodding again, Cerise slowly stood up. ¡°There-there is a lot to it.¡± She reached out, grabbing onto Ferene¡¯s arm, holding onto the Hatharen to keep herself upright. ¡°Sometimes I¡¯m following in her footsteps. Sometimes I can, but other times it¡¯s impossible to do what she did. Sometimes I¡¯m trying not to follow her example. Sometimes she wants to help, sometimes lets me figure things out on my own. She has her own expectations of me. She understands me in ways nobody else does, but she doesn¡¯t see how different we are.¡±

    Ferene nodded, wrapping an arm around Cerise¡¯s shoulder, holding her as they started walking again. The explanation made no sense to Ferene. ¡°You talked about her advice before.¡±

    Cerise let out a short laugh. ¡°She had a lot of small bits of advice. She wanted the best for me. She didn¡¯t know what I wanted, but she tried her hardest to help, when she could.¡±

    ¡°It sounds like you got along with her.¡± Ferene had only ever gotten along with one of the other children. She immediately pushed that thought away.

    ¡°She is the older of us, and had a lot of things I would never have. She didn¡¯t flaunt those over me. She never wanted me to be jealous of her. I never was. I live with more freedom that she ever could. It would be impossible for her to be in this situation.¡± Letting go of Ferene¡¯s arm, Cerise reached around, squeezing her waist. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t let her have this. Thank you, Ferene.¡±

    ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°You distracted me, with your questions.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    Night fell, and Ferene chose a spot for them to sleep. Laying her weapons on the ground, she lay down next to them and closed her eyes. For a time, she listened to Cerise¡¯s footsteps as the woman paced back and forth, then the ruffling of her clothes, then more footsteps.

    ¡°Ferene.¡±

    She opened her eyes, looking up at her companion.

    ¡°I¡­I¡¯ve never slept on the ground before.¡± Ferene didn¡¯t respond, and Cerise pushed her lips together, the expression barely visible in the light from the moon and stars. ¡°Can I sleep next to you? To¡­to lean on you.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± A smile broke across the woman¡¯s face as Ferene answered, and she dropped down, laying down next to Ferene, their sides touching.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Cerise said, and Ferene closed her eyes again.

    When she woke up in the morning, she had her arms wrapped around Cerise, holding the smaller woman against herself. Slowly, Ferene pulled away, standing up as best she could without disturbing her companion. It brought back memories of the same thing happening with Velan, and Ferene found herself blushing.

    ¡°You seem fairly used to that.¡± Cerise said, grinning as she looked up at Ferene. Apparently she had woken up first. Ferene reached down, extending a hand to help Cerise to her feet. ¡°Tell me about them?¡± The woman asked.

    ¡°Man hired me to take him to Ettsgras. I left him there.¡± Cerise¡¯s smile vanished, and she looked away. Ferene picked up her gauntlets and started putting them on. ¡°That was only two times. Before that, one of the Hatharen¡­she took a liking to me. I really liked her. We lived together for a month before I left.¡±

    Ferene suddenly found herself frozen in place, frozen in thought. She missed Rilya. She missed Velan, too.

    ¡°So you like women?¡± Cerise asked, snapping Ferene out of her trance. She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.

    Once more, Ferene heard the sound of horses on the road, this time from in front of them. Ten riders thundered down the road, the man at the front of the pack yelling and signaling his companions. Like the last group, they advanced, spreading out to surround the pair. Ferene once again pushed Cerise behind her, drawing her sword before she held a hand against her back.

    ¡°No, not this time.¡±

    Cerise¡¯s voice was firm, confident. Devoid of the emotion she had shown up until this point, even when threatened or held captive.

    One rider moved forward, looking down at Ferene from his horse before his gaze moved to Cerise. ¡°Princess. Are you well?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sir Ilrich.¡±

    ¡°May I ask about your companion?¡±

    ¡°This is Ferene, she saved me from my captors.¡±

    ¡°My deepest apologies for not being the one to do so myself.¡±

    ¡°The fault is mine. I wandered off, as I am like to do, losing my escort, as you have repeatedly warned me the dangers of. I paid the price for my recklessness.¡±

    The man¡¯s lips twitched in response. ¡°Well, Ferene, we can take care of her Highness from here. Thank you for your service.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Cerise spoke up, her hand moving to grip Ferene¡¯s lower arm. ¡°She is coming with us.¡±

    Ilrich¡¯s face did not move for a moment. ¡°Why is that, Princess?¡±

    ¡°She agreed to protect me, as my knight. She agreed to escort me back to Wellant, in exchange for information.¡±

    ¡°We can escort you home from here, your Highness.¡±

    ¡°I did not give her the information I promised.¡±

    ¡°And she has not escorted you to Wellant. There is no need for her.¡± He responded fast, his face tense. ¡°Princess, please. Let us return before your father starts to worry. You have been missing for far longer than your usual absences.¡±

    ¡°Ferene killed people to protect me and agreed to be my knight. You cannot separate me from her.¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes went wide, his mouth thin. ¡°You¡­Your Highness.¡± He coughed, once. ¡°Are you serious?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    He looked to Ferene. ¡°Is this true?¡± She simply nodded. She had made that agreement, earlier. The man¡¯s face grew tense as he clenched his jaw. The other riders had come together, watching and listening silently. ¡°Very well.¡± He dismounted, making a signal to the others. Three of them also dismounted, and the remaining six collected the vacated horses. ¡°We will accompany you on foot.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Sir Ilrich.¡± Cerise¡¯s grip tightened, then she let go of Ferene¡¯s arm.

    ¡°I would like to talk to you, alone.¡± He said to Ferene as he approached. ¡°If the princess will allow it.¡±

    ¡°Do not harass her needlessly.¡± Cerise replied. Ilrich walked off to the side of the road, gesturing for Ferene to follow. She did, leaving Cerise with the three soldiers.

    ¡°I figure there¡¯s an equal chance that you are taking advantage of the Princess, or you are a random bystander that got caught up in one of her flights of fancy. Want to tell me which it is?¡± While he was still tense, his attitude and speech changed, becoming less tight, more personal.

    ¡°I helped someone who was in trouble.¡± Ferene said, not sure what he was asking.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m asking. What do you want from her?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just looking for my friend. She said she knows her.¡±

    ¡°Has she tried to seduce you?¡±

    Ferene frowned at the question. ¡°No.¡±

    Ilrich let out a breath, turning away from her. ¡°If she does, I request that you do not indulge her.¡±

    Part of Ferene wanted to tell him that she¡¯d do whatever she wanted, but she kept silent. His questions annoyed her, far more than Cerise¡¯s ever did. She followed him back to the others, where one of the other men was questioning the princess.

    Ferene had never known a princess before. The woman didn¡¯t seem that different from anyone else she had met, but the distinction felt like Cerise should be different. Was Ferene supposed to treat her in some kind of special way? Linara or Taradira would probably have known.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Noticing Ferene, Cerise stopped her conversation and grabbed her newest knight¡¯s arm. ¡°He wasn¡¯t mean to you, was he? Ilrich can be overprotective, but only because he worries about me. It seems at least some of his fears are justified, after what happened.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Ferene replied.

    Ferene, Cerise, Ilrich, and the other three guards walked the road, keeping up a decent pace. Ferene noticed that at least two of the riders had stayed around, keeping watch from a distance. Cerise¡¯s demeanor stayed more rigid, the smiles she had shown Ferene that day before completely missing.

    ¡°I agreed to tell you about Linara.¡±

    ¡°You did.¡± Ferene nodded.

    ¡°She used to live in Olentor, north of Wellant. At the time, she was a teacher. Specifically, the prince¡¯s arms trainer. Apparently she was also very formidable in combat on her own.¡±

    ¡°Do you know why she left? Or where she might be now?¡±

    ¡°The prince became the king, and he married my older sister, uniting our two kingdoms. My sister¡­did not like the relationship she had with the prince. She¡¯s supposed to be his wife, but he¡¯s spending all this time with another woman? I kind of understand it.¡±

    Ferene didn¡¯t, but kept the response to herself. Rilya and Ilraeghen were, by Hatharen customs, supposed to be a pair, but Rilya had spent weeks with Ferene while Ilraeghen spent his time with both Sathar and Filraehen, who were also supposed to only be with each other. They all made it work out.

    ¡°Rather than start trouble, the two came to some sort of agreement and Linara left. I met her once, when I visited my sister some time before the wedding. She didn¡¯t show up for the wedding, so I didn¡¯t meet her a second time. She¡¯s very nice. Very tall.¡±

    ¡°Ettsgras has a Hatharen general that is even taller.¡± Ferene spoke up. ¡°About this tall.¡± She held her hand above her head, indicating Taradira¡¯s height. Cerise¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°She¡¯s taller than any other Hatharen I¡¯ve met.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I hope you can introduce me to her sometime, then. She sounds very impressive. Your height, however, is perfectly fine for me.¡± A hint of a smile graced Cerise¡¯s lips, before fading as she glanced sideways, catching a look from Ilrich. ¡°Regardless, someone in Olentor probably has a way to track her down and contact her. You were right to head there. I can even take you-¡°

    ¡°Princess.¡± Ilrich spoke up.

    ¡°I can visit my sister in Olentor.¡± Cerise said, turning to look at him. ¡°Am I not allowed to do that? Taking a trip to visit the neighboring kingdom, who we are now sharing resources with, in order to visit my very own sister, the queen of said kingdom? And I can¡¯t choose at least one of my guards for such a trip?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Highness.¡± The man bowed his head.

    ¡°The speed might be slower than you traveling alone, but if you are with me, you will get past the border and into the capitol much easier. With the tensions in the south rising again, both Wellent and Olentor are becoming more careful about who is allowed in. The same can¡¯t be said for who is allowed out, hence my kidnapping. But being with a Princess means you can just walk past all of that.¡± Ilrich made a sound, something between a growl and a groan, but Cerise ignored him.

    ¡°Sounds useful.¡± Ferene said, paying the guard no mind.

    A wagon appeared on the horizon, slowly moving towards them, flanked by riders, until it stopped. Cerise immediately turned to Ilrich. ¡°Really?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Princess.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Ferene, if you will join me inside my carriage?¡± Ilrich coughed. ¡°As a reward for her work of fending off people who sought to capture me, I believe that my knight has earned a chance to rest her feet while we continue towards our destination.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Princess.¡± Ilrich nodded.

    While the horse-drawn carriage was, fundamentally, just a wagon, as Ferene approached it she saw it could not be compared to any other wagons she had seen before. In essence, a wooden box on four wheels, but rather than a simple bed with a cloth canopy strung up on posts, this one was a full enclosure, functioning doors built into the sides. Ilrich opened one up, and even folded out a step to allow Cerise to gracefully walk inside rather than having to half jump, half pull herself upwards. Ferene followed, getting a glimpse of the inside. Carved seats with cushions, rather than simple boards, were situated at the front and back, the entire inside dedicated to the comfort of the passengers, rather than cargo with seating arrangements being a secondary concern. Cerise planted herself facing the front, and gestured for Ferene to sit beside her, rather than across from her. After setting her weapons against the wall and following the Princess¡¯s instruction, she watched as Ilrich closed the door, leaving the two of them alone, sitting side by side in the light let in by the glass windows set high in the walls.

    ¡°This is¡­nice.¡± She said,

    ¡°I wish they hadn¡¯t brought it out. I was enjoying walking with you.¡±

    ¡°This is how you usually travel?¡± Ferene asked.

    ¡°Yes. Protected from the outside, not allowed to see or be seen by anyone.¡± Letting out a deep sigh, the Princess suddenly leaned into Ferene. ¡°It is better when I can share it with someone, though.¡±

    ¡°Ilrich asked me if you had tried to seduce me.¡±

    She felt Cerise shift against her. ¡°What did you tell him?¡±

    ¡°You hadn¡¯t.¡±

    It started as a slight vibration, but Cerise quickly started giggling. ¡°No? Really? Were you lying, or did you really not notice?¡±

    ¡°Um.¡± Ferene felt her face turn red. They had slept together, almost fully clothed, but not much beyond that. Did that count as seduction?

    ¡°I was trying to get you to look at my breasts at one point, and then we slept together.¡±

    Ferene suddenly looked down. ¡°Were you?¡±

    More giggling followed. ¡°I had my shirt almost entirely unbuttoned and you didn¡¯t spare me a glance. If anyone had seen us I¡¯d be lectured by acting in ways unbecoming of my station. My sister might have found it amusing, though.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Ferene said. Cerise shifted again, pulling herself into Ferene¡¯s lap.

    ¡°Can I kiss you, Ferene?¡±

    She was small and light in her lap. More like Velan than Rilya, though he had at least been nearly Ferene¡¯s equal in height. Cerise was weak and defenseless. An innocent that Ferene had to protect. ¡°Ilrich told me to turn you down.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to?¡± Her voice was a whisper, her face - as flushed as Ferene¡¯s - so close.

    Who was she to tell someone else what to do, or allow someone to tell someone else what to do, when it came to things like this? Rilya loved her regardless of what the others had initially thought, even when one of her closest friends disapproved of Ferene. Was Cerise any different?

    Did she like Cerise? The way she liked Rilya, or Velan? Did she even like those two? Of course she loved Rilya, even if they couldn¡¯t talk. Cerise could talk to her. Had talked to her. Velan¡­was there for her when she was lonely, when she was hurt. She had used him and left him behind.

    ¡°Do you really want this?¡± Ferene finally asked.

    Cerise paused, pulling away from Ferene, her eyes wide. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I¡­what if we get to Olentor, and I leave to find Linara. Do you want to do this if I¡¯ll just leave?¡±

    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t want you to leave.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t free you so you could capture me.¡±

    Twisting, Cerise slid back onto the seat beside Ferene, but still wrapped both her arms around one of Ferene¡¯s, clinging to her. ¡°I chose to make you my knight. I never got to pick one before. Still, I didn¡¯t think that you¡¯d turn me down like that.¡± She laughed, more than just a giggle, but tinged with some amount of sadness. ¡°Do you know how much kissing a princess is worth? Men would fight each other to touch my lips.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d beat them.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Cerise suddenly looked up at Ferene.

    ¡°If it¡¯s someone you don¡¯t want.¡±

    Smiling, Cerise suddenly pulled herself up, laying a quick kiss on Ferene¡¯s cheek.

    The wagon, pulled by four horses, was far faster than Cerise¡¯s walking pace, and they quickly passed the border into Wellant. As Cerise promised, there was very little delay on the road, a collection of men on horses exchanging a brief conversation with Ilrich before moving off. They passed a city after that, Cerise talking about how she had been visiting it when she was captured.

    ¡°And since those two men were leaving, they were not searched, and nobody considered you truly missing until after they had crossed the border.¡±

    Cerise sighed and nodded, again leaning against Ferene, more lazily than intimately. ¡°I am always causing problems for them, and I do feel guilty for it, but I hate being followed, being forced to follow a schedule all the time. I take every freedom they give me, and then push to get more.¡±

    ¡°You have to fight to get what you want.¡±

    ¡°Is that what you did?¡±

    ¡°There was someone who was in control of my life. I killed him.¡±

    Cerise went silent, squeezing Ferene¡¯s arm. Hours passed, and eventually they reached the capitol, just as the sun was setting. Looking out a window at the front of the carriage, Ferene saw a castle, surrounded by the buildings of the city. In format, it was similar to Ettsgras, but on a far smaller scale. There was also no second city of tents in sight.

    The carriage followed the path directly up to a gate and rolled into the castle without any hassle, finally coming to a stop in a courtyard. Cerise let out a sigh as she let go of Ferene to disembark.

    A tall, dark-haired young man ran up as Cerise stepped out, a dark green cape flowing behind him. ¡°Cerise! I was so worried about you!¡± Ferene twitched, reaching for her sword as the man scooped Cerise into his arms, hugging her tightly before putting her down. None of the guards reacted to this, so Ferene let it happen, simply stepping down from the wagon behind the princess.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± The young man asked, looking at Ferene. He was slightly taller than her, his gaze intense, scrutinizing. ¡°Did she-¡°

    ¡°Lady Ferene rescued her highness from captivity, and fought off a second kidnapping attempt before returning her to us. We owe her a debt and are repaying that, Your Highness.¡± Ilrich spoke up.

    The young man clapped his hands, nodding and smiling at Ferene. ¡°Then I must thank you, Lady Ferene, for saving my sister.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a Lady.¡± Ferene said.

    ¡°You are,¡± Cerise disagreed, ¡°in taking you as my knight, you have earned that title, at least in an honorary status. Unless you wish for something more.¡±

    Shutting her mouth, Ferene kept quiet, feeling wrong. Cerise and her brother wore nice clothes, the wagon - the carriage - was extravagant, and even the other guards had ornate designs to their armor. Ferene felt self conscious of her battered armor and weapons.

    ¡°Cerise, tell me all about what happened, will you?¡± The young man said, rubbing his sister¡¯s head.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do that, I¡¯m older than you.¡± He followed her request, but not without laughing. Cerise gestured for Ferene to follow the two of them as they walked towards a door.

    Inside the castle, the three entered a sitting room, brother and sister falling into posh chairs. Ferene found a much simpler wooden chair and sat down in it.

    ¡°This is Prince Varrot, my younger brother. An overgrown child.¡± Cerise added the last part with a smile.

    Varrot made an overly dramatic gasp with a matching look of horror on his face. ¡°Dear sister, how could you? By all laws I am an adult.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s seventeen.¡± She said, looking to Ferene. ¡°But don¡¯t worry about that. We need to plan a trip to Olentor, as soon as possible, to visit our queenly sister and get some information on Linara.¡±

    ¡°Linara? What about her?¡±

    ¡°Ferene here is trying to find her. I promised her to help. The two of us will go to Olentor and ask around there. Someone should know something about where she is.¡± Varrot let out a laugh at this. Cerise frowned at him. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°We got the news yesterday, so you don¡¯t know yet.¡±

    ¡°What news, Varrot?¡± Cerise demanded.

    He smiled wide. ¡°Everyone in Olentor knows where Linara is. Because she¡¯s in Olentor right now.¡±

 Chapter 7, Book 2: Home at Last

    ¡°So what happened then?¡±

    Felden stared at Linara, leaning forward over his desk, as she recounted the events.

    ¡°They ran. We searched the inside of their headquarters and eventually found a tunnel, but the man we saw at the entrance was long gone. We found a few assistants and brought them back. They are being detained in your dungeons.¡± Despite his lack of preparation in other areas, Felden did have dungeons ready.

    ¡°Did you find Denham and his missing patrol?¡±

    Linara swallowed. ¡°Dead. From the look of things, they were being kept prisoner, but were executed before the leader fled. They were bound with their throats slit. It was my fault for delaying.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Felden shook his head. ¡°No, I can''t blame you for this. You did more than I initially asked of you, and made a decision. I think it was the proper one to make. Take care of the wounded you know you have.¡± Linara clenched her teeth, but nodded. ¡°Speaking of the wounded, how is your squire doing?¡±

    ¡°She needs time to recover.¡±

    ¡°But she will live.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Linara nodded again. ¡°I want to¡­ask a favor about that.¡±

    ¡°As I said before, you¡¯ve done more than I ever asked or expected. I am in your debt.¡±

    ¡°I want you to take care of her here, until she recovers, without me. When she is able, give her the option to join your men. I think they would be glad to have her with them.¡±

    ¡°You are leaving, then?¡±

    Another nod. ¡°I am in no rush to reach my destination, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I do not entirely know what awaits me there. It is better if I face it alone.¡±

    ¡°I will make the arrangements. Again, you have exceeded expectations. If I thought there was any way for me to get you to stay here long term, I would make an offer, but I know you¡¯d turn me down.¡±

    Linara visited Sal the next morning. One of the rooms on the first floor had been converted into an infirmary for the wounded guards. Sal¡¯s cot was in the corner, surrounded by makeshift curtains. Linara pushed through these and was greeted by the girl smiling up at her.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look too bad.¡±

    ¡°They stitched me up yesterday. Lord Felden has some good doctors.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s his city now, right? Entirely? You won it for him.¡±

    ¡°I guess I did.¡± Linara shrugged. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to, but they struck first.¡±

    Sal¡¯s smile faltered. ¡°I heard the others talking. Denham didn¡¯t make it.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes we can¡¯t save everyone. I¡¯ve lost people before. Good friends. Family, even. I was worried I was going to lose you.¡±

    Sal gave a little half smile. ¡°Now you¡¯ll be even later to get back to Olentor.¡±

    ¡°I need to talk to you about that.¡±

    The realization was instant. Sal was too smart for her own good, it seemed. ¡°You¡¯re leaving me, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to leave tomorrow.¡± Linara reached out, patting Sal¡¯s head. ¡°Felden¡¯s doctors will take care of you, until you are better. Once you are, you get to make a choice. Your own choice.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Linara grinned. ¡°You¡¯ll be offered a place here. In the guard. You don¡¯t have to take it, though. You can do whatever you want. Go back to Bavmont and show off everything you learned. Go south. Follow after me, if you want. It¡¯s up to you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have more to teach me?¡± Sal asked, trying to push Linara¡¯s hand away.

    ¡°You survived multiple battles and defeated skilled opponents. You¡¯re more than ready to go off on your own. You are very unique and you will learn as you see more, regardless of if I¡¯m there or not.¡±

    ¡°Fine. I want you to promise me something, though. In exchange for abandoning me.¡±

    ¡°What it is?¡±

    ¡°When you see your prince - your king - don¡¯t hold back. Show him the real you.¡±

    Linara froze, letting Sal finally push Linara¡¯s hand away and fix her hair. ¡°You know, my people have a saying.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Hatharen women take what they want. In terms of men, that is.¡±

    The girl raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s very¡­specific.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated. But, if I still want him, I won¡¯t let anything stop me.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    Linara nodded. ¡°Before, I was jealous. I didn¡¯t want to share. It was¡­it was childish. He tried to tell me, but I ignored him. We could have worked things out, I think. So, I¡¯ll do as you ask.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    From Celkeish, Linara walked east along the road, towards Olentor. At some point, not long after leaving the city, she passed out of the Independent Lands and into the territory of the kingdom, but the surroundings did not look any different. Grassy fields to the south and north. Just barely within her vision, to the north, was the mountain wall, slowly curving southward far to the east. The road would, eventually, take her to the city of Olentor itself, and southeast of that was Aesuthal. The former was more of a home to her than the latter. She could not imagine herself ever returning to the stronghold.

    When she passed through a small village as she traveled the road, several of the residents spotted her and called out. She smiled and waved, but didn¡¯t stop to rest.

    A day and a half later, she came across a large town, where she did stop to rest for the night. The owner of the inn recognized her, refusing to take her money. ¡°You¡¯re Linara. Hero. Can fix things.¡±

    Linara looked down at him in confusion as she leaned on the counter. ¡°What do you mean? Is something happening?¡±

    ¡°The unification isn¡¯t going well. Some of the people are angry about it. War in the south not helping, either. If whoever wins down there comes north, people are worried they will be sent to defend the southern border of Wellant.¡±

    ¡°Better to fight sooner than later, and together rather than separately.¡± Linara said, frowning.

    ¡°That¡¯s what more level heads say, about that at least. But nobody denies there¡¯s other parts that don¡¯t feel fair.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± She asked.

    The man scratched his bald head. ¡°Taxes have gone up and we all know the money is going to our neighbors. There¡¯s a tax exemption if you can supply a certain amount of crops, but the deal isn¡¯t fair, you end up giving away more than you save on the exemption. Trade was supposed to get better but the price of metal has gone up, and they have most of that. They will pay a premium for proper horses, but not everyone can meet the standards. It¡¯s war preparation trade, but it¡¯s harder on us than on them, for now at least. I figure it¡¯ll turn around if things start happening, but there¡¯s more and more thought that it won¡¯t come to that and Wellant is just exploiting what¡¯s happening to take advantage of us.¡±

    ¡°And what can I do about it?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a legend, girl.¡± The man grinned. ¡°It¡¯s good luck to have you around. A Hatharen, and undefeated in duels? News that you¡¯re back will spread fast.¡±

    Linara just shrugged. ¡°I want to visit some old friends in the capitol, nothing more.¡±

    Stolen story; please report.

    The city of Olentor rose before Linara. In front of her, the lowest part of the city sat at the base of the hill, with more creeping up the slope. The castle sat on a plateau overlooking the rest of the city. A small part of her said it was a mistake coming back, that she was breaking a promise she made, both to another and to herself. But Yenra, Queen or not, did not hold her loyalty. The agreement did not specify her never coming back, only leaving her post, which Linara had done. Taking a deep breath, she walked forward, towards the outskirts of the city.

    The others on the road had only gawked at her, but as she entered the streets of the city, people stopped what they were doing and pointed, some even shouting at her. It felt wrong. She had walked through the city before, but never been given this sort of treatment. Perhaps what the old man at the inn had said was more true than she thought.

    The outskirts were the poorest parts of the city, furthest from the center and not even behind the first wall. As she approached the wide open gate and walked through, she entered the proper city, the bare shacks replaced by multi-storied houses. She followed the main street to a market, hearing the familiar sounds of the city around her. People haggled in front of stalls, but upon closer inspection, Linara saw that far less was being offered than she remembered. The people still bought and sold, but less goods changed hands, less were on display. Leaving the square, she walked past a blacksmith she remembered visiting a few times when Henry was busy. The shop was closed, and looked like it had been for some time.

    ¡°Grennel left to help his parents with their farm up north.¡± A voice said. Linara turned to see a young girl standing here. For a moment, she was reminded of Sal, due to the similar heights and hair color, but the girl looked far more fragile than her former student. ¡°Didn¡¯t have metal to work, so went to work for them.¡±

    ¡°Is this common?¡±

    ¡°Ya.¡± The girl nodded. ¡°Farmin¡¯ ain¡¯t good pay, but pays better than smithin¡¯ nothin¡¯. That¡¯s what me da says, at least.¡±

    ¡°What does your father do?¡±

    ¡°Woodworker. Angry all the time now since they got ¡®im making stuff for wagons. He ¡®ates wheels the most.¡±

    Linara flipped the girl a circular bronze coin, tossing it to the girl. She nearly jumped as she realized what it was, barely managing to recover and snatch it out of the air. Linara continued up the road, towards the castle, frowning as she went.

    After cresting the top of the hill, she finally had the full castle and surrounding grounds in her view. A wide stretch of empty ground lay between the edge of the plateau and the walls of the castle - the fairgrounds at times, training grounds at others, but with it as empty as it was now, Linara was reminded more of the other purpose. A killing field, filled with ancient tunnels and traps that could be primed in case of any danger. Were things truly so bad in the south? Taradira would-

    Her brain stopped, the thought causing her to stand completely still, feeling cold. Taradira would win in the south. If the king she served demanded the north, would she lead his army this way? Against the independent lands? Against Wellant and Olentor? Linara imagined the giant walking through the ruins of the city below, black armor stained with the blood of her enemies. The people of Olentor thought of Linara as a hero, a legend. Taradira was that to Hatharen. Would the victorious southern kingdom truly turn their sights to the north, or were the northerners just paranoid? Linara could only hope it was the second.

    Letting out a sigh, she crossed the empty field and approached the castle gate. A single guard outside stared at her, eyes wide. ¡°L-Lady Linara!¡± She saluted. ¡°Y-you¡¯re back!¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± Linara said, smiling at the woman. ¡°May I enter?¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± She pushed open the small side door, allowing Linara to step through the switchback and pass behind the main gate without the massive construction needing to be moved.

    Linara made her way to the throne room, ignoring servants and guards stopping what they were doing to gawk at her. As she got closer to the throne room, Vendel appeared in front of her, grabbing her arm. ¡°What are you doing?¡± He asked, urgently.

    ¡°I thought you asked me to visit.¡± She said as she came to a stop.

    ¡°W-well, yes, but that was over a month ago. And you are marching to the throne room. Do you expect to request an official audience? Please, just-¡°

    ¡°I want to present myself to the king and queen properly. If I met with the king in private without my presence being officially known, how do you think the queen would respond?¡±

    Vendel let out a low sound, almost like a growl, but nodded and let go of her. ¡°Allow me to escort you, at the very least.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    The two of them waited, just out of sight, listening to Senral deal with various mundane complaints until it was finally Linara¡¯s turn. As she stepped into the room, the herald stared at her for several seconds before announcing her.

    ¡°Lady Linara of the Hatharen Stronghold of Aesuthal.¡±

    Senral stood up from his throne, eyes wide as he stared down at her. Yenra, in the seat beside his, brought her hand up to her mouth, concealing the lower part of her expression, but her eyes glared at Linara. Rilren stood on the floor between her and the royals, his lips in a small smile.

    ¡°Your Royal Majesty.¡± Linara said, bowing down on the carpet. ¡°I have come to beg your forgiveness for my sudden absence three years ago, and beg you to allow me to visit your city and catch up with some old friends.¡±

    Silence. Linara kept her gaze on the floor in front of her. Nobody in the room made a sound. Various nobles standing off to the sides did not gossip or whisper to each other.

    ¡°Would old friends include me, Linara?¡± Senral asked, a humor in his voice. Linara tilted her head back upwards, seeing him sitting down again, smiling as he watched her.

    ¡°Only if your majesty wishes it.¡±

    ¡°His majesty does.¡± Senral said, standing up again. ¡°Yenra, I wish to catch up with my old friend. May I leave the rest of today''s audiences to you?¡±

    The queen¡¯s face was frozen as she stared at her husband, not a single muscle moving until she decided to talk. ¡°Of course, husband.¡± She emphasized the last word, but Senral seemed not to notice, simply nodding at her before striding down the steps, grabbing Linara¡¯s arm and lifting her to her feet.

    ¡°Come and tell me about your adventures.¡± He said, loudly, and guided her off to the side, through a door and back into a private room.

    ¡°What are you doing here, Linara?¡± He asked when they were alone.

    Everything came back to her. Being this close to him, his face, his eyes, even his smell as he stood next to her, close enough that she could reach out and touch him. She had tried her best to avoid thinking about him, but she missed him. All the years they had been apart seemed to weigh down on her.

    She wanted to smile and make a joke about coming back to visit her old friends. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to do that, not when his lips were right in front of her. She reached out, but he was faster. She had barely placed a hand on the side of his head before he grabbed her, pulling her against him, pressing her dirt-stained armor against his clean royal clothes as he pulled her into an embrace, her lips finding his as they passionately kissed each other.

    The two separated, panting. ¡°We parted on far worse terms than these. What happened?¡± He asked, smiling. His smile was exactly how she remembered it.

    ¡°I want you.¡± She said. ¡°I want you and if you¡¯re too stupid to control yourself I¡¯m not going to hold back to save you from it.¡± She said, and kissed him again. ¡°Your wife will be furious.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± He responded. ¡°I missed you. I missed you so much.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll arrange a guest room for you.¡± Senral said, handing Linara her breastplate. The two of them had removed her armor once piece at a time, the process of fully stripping her taking too much time for either of them to complete without giving in to their urges, resulting in Linara taking off one or two pieces at a time. ¡°Atheyara was given your old rooms.¡±

    ¡°I heard that the two of you were getting along well.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t compare to you at all.¡±

    ¡°So you tried?¡±

    He went pale. ¡°I-¡°

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Senral.¡± She said, placing a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I under-¡°

    ¡°No.¡± He interrupted her, his expression suddenly serious. ¡°You should talk to her, when you can. I-it¡¯s complicated.¡±

    ¡°I believe you were the one saying that kings are allowed to have harems, before I left. This is just part of that.¡±

    He looked down, then noticed the dirt on the front of his jacket. ¡°I should fix this. You need to talk to her. We can have a further discussion later.¡±

    ¡°We can do more than just discuss.¡± Linara said, smiling. He grinned back, his serious expression breaking for a moment before he turned away, leaving the room.

    Before the door closed, Rilren stepped through, closing the door behind him.

    ¡°Linara.¡±

    ¡°Rilren.¡±

    ¡°The two of you are certainly getting along well already, from the sounds of it.¡±

    ¡°You were listening.¡±

    ¡°I was standing guard.¡± The man said, keeping a straight face.

    ¡°Do you disapprove?¡±

    He let out a sigh, dropping his stiff posture. ¡°If the two of you going at it like that can break him out of his complete apathy, I am in no place to object. The queen has been making a lot of policies that he doesn¡¯t even consider overly closely, let alone object to. There was a time when he seemed more alive, for several weeks, when he was talking to Atheyara. That did not last.¡±

    There she was again. ¡°What happened between the two of them?¡±

    Rilren shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it has been a month since she left her rooms. Only a select few servants are allowed in or not. Even the king rarely meets with her.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to her at some point.¡± Linara set her breastplate down on the floor, next to the other pieces of her armor. ¡°Tell me about yourself, though. How have you been, since I¡¯ve left?¡±

    ¡°Edmon has little interest in sparring with the knights, so at first I was lacking in a good partner. Eventually I ended up having the king himself grace my training field.¡±

    ¡°And how is his royal highness doing in terms of swordplay?¡±

    Rilren grinned. ¡°He might be able to beat you, I think. He managed to combine what you taught him and the methods of his new teacher very effectively. I feel almost redundant at times.¡±

    Linara rolled her eyes, leaning back against the wall. ¡°And how about you outside of your duty. Life goes on? Get married yet?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°I met a young girl who I thought would be quite enamored with you.¡±

    ¡°You know I¡¯m not interested.¡± He replied, frowning at her. ¡°Stop teasing me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fun, though.¡± She said, then sighed. ¡°I suppose I should go and find a servant that will show me to my new room, and settle in. Then I can look forward to an eventual confrontation with her highness.¡± Linara picked up her armor, then paused. ¡°How bad are things with Wellant, really? Things don¡¯t look great, and I¡¯ve heard there is unrest. Has she gone too far?¡±

    His face twisted in an expression Linara couldn¡¯t read. ¡°The queen is doing what she thinks is best. It¡¯s not my place to question policy. I¡¯m just a soldier with a fancy title. My lands will only enter my direct administration once I retire.¡±

    Linara rolled her eyes.

 Manager of Misfits - 1: Mercenaries

    Clanging outside his tent woke Tullund up, as it had every day since he started living in the camp outside the city. Pushing himself up from his bedroll, he looked across the enclosure, to see Lily putting a pillow over her head, trying to drown out the sound.

    Getting to his feet, he pulled on his uniform - his lieutenant¡¯s uniform, as an officer in Ettsgras¡¯ army. He watched Lily as he put on his boots, seeing her fully committed to trying to sleep longer. Leaving the tent, he went on a short run, jogging around the section of the camp. Other tents, just like his, were lined up in neat rows. The other officers were getting up as he circled, some of them waving to him while others ignored him.

    Completing the lap, he arrived back at his own tent, stepping in and seeing Lily still in her bedroll. Walking over, he poked her with his foot. The woman gave up on trying to hide from the sounds of soldiers starting their day, and pushed herself upwards, her blanket falling down to reveal her naked body.

    ¡°I thought I told you not to sleep like that.¡± Tullund said, annoyed. He knew she had some excuse, but he refused to simply ignore it. Every few days she came up with a new way to try to seduce him, and every few days he told her not to. If he didn¡¯t make her change, she would think that he liked whatever she was doing. He had to get the message through to her that he wasn¡¯t interested.

    Instead of responding to him, she slowly stretched, yawning. If he didn¡¯t know better he might believe she wasn¡¯t aware of her state of undress. But he knew that every motion she made was planned, calculated. Reaching under the blanket, she pulled out a loose-fitting shirt, holding it up. ¡°-must have slipped off.¡± She mumbled.

    Before Tullund could respond, someone pushed through the front flap of the tent. Lily quickly yanked the blanket up over her body as Tullund turned towards the visitor. It was a courier, the young man¡¯s face flushed as he looked at Tullund.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Lieutenant, sir, ah¡­¡± He glanced at Lily¡¯s bedroll for a moment. ¡°Colonel Thoms wants to speak to you in half an hour. At central.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there. Thank you.¡± With a quick salute, the boy turned and jogged off. Tullund turned to Lily again. ¡°Try not to make me look bad. I want to minimize the rumors about me, not increase them.¡±

    Sliding out from under the blanket again, this time wearing the loose-fitting shirt, which went down to her thighs, Lily grinned at him. ¡°Do you not want your potential underlings to think you¡¯re sleeping with a woman you stole from a disgraced captain?¡±

    ¡°I think respect goes better than envy. What do you think the meeting is about?¡±

    With a sigh, Lily started getting dressed properly. Her provided outfit was a simple dark gray tunic and trousers. Her outfit stood out from the dark green uniforms that nearly everyone else in the camp wore. ¡°Probably finally assigning you some underlings. It¡¯s been weeks since you passed the test, time for you to start actually doing the work of your position.¡±

    Arriving at the central hub of the camp, Tullund, with Lily in tow, found Thoms leaning over a wooden table, papers carefully laid out in front of him, held down by a collection of smooth rocks. ¡°There you are, just in time.¡± Stepping around the table, the short man located a paper and tapped it twice. ¡°We¡¯ve had an influx of mercenaries, and the spare lieutenants and captains get to work with them. I figure it¡¯s perfect for someone of your unique background.¡±

    ¡°Of course, sir.¡± Tullund said, frowning. He was never sure if Thoms liked him or not. The two had several friendly conversations outside of their duty, but during times like this the man seemed oddly stiff, even slightly hostile.

    ¡°You will find them at section two three six.¡±

    The first number meant it was the south side of the camp, the second telling him it was at the outermost ring, and the last was where in the ring the place was. He nodded. ¡°Thank you sir.¡± Tullund turned and left.

    Section Two Three Six was occupied by a small group of around thirty, most of them standing awkwardly, talking with each other. Tents had yet to be set up. ¡°How long have you been here?¡± Tullund asked as he approached.

    ¡°Hours. Hours! Figured these proper army types had it together a bit more than that. Some moron will show up to give us orders eventually, eh?¡± A young man responded, stepping over towards Tullund. ¡°Say, want to bet on how much longer it¡¯ll be?¡±

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    ¡°I would! What will you give me for less than half an hour?¡± Lily immediately spoke up before Tullund could say anything.

    ¡°Ah, ten triangles? Or circles, I guess, since we¡¯re in proper territory.¡±

    ¡°Done.¡± She held out her hand to the man, who shook it. ¡°Tullund, tell him I win.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± He waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Retract the bet or I¡¯ll stand here for half an hour.¡±

    The young man looked from Lily to Tullund, frowning. ¡°He¡¯s in charge, then?¡± Tullund nodded, and the man turned towards the rest of the group, several of which were watching the exchange with smiles. ¡°Rella, they-¡°

    ¡°Yes, George, I can see that. The only reason for anyone to approach us is if he¡¯s in charge.¡± A woman spoke up, stepping forward. Most of the group wore basic garments that would fit under their armor, but the woman was clad in a loose fitting shirt with a belt of knives going from her shoulder to her hip. ¡°This is Linara¡¯s Legion, mercenary company. Are you our liaison?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Lieutenant Tullund. This is my assistant, Lily. She has no rank. Where is Linara?¡±

    The woman grinned at that. ¡°Linara is our¡­sponsor, let¡¯s say, rather than an actual member. She isn¡¯t here. I¡¯m in charge. Rella. My second in command is Frederick.¡± She gestured to her side, and a man wearing nothing on his upper body but an open vest raised his hand.

    Tullund nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral. ¡°Right. My assignment is to get you up to speed on camp operations, and the regulations that will apply to you and your employees. When we move out, you will be expected to follow my orders. All your payments will come through me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I have to do what you say. Do you have any actual experience, or are you some important person¡¯s son?¡±

    Tullund grinned. ¡°I know my way around a bow.¡±

    ¡°Killed anyone with one?¡±

    ¡°Too many to count.¡±

    Rella shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ll do. What¡¯s with the girl, though? Whore?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Lily immediately responded.

    ¡°No.¡± Tullund said, firmly. ¡°She is a former whore.¡±

    Letting out a short laugh, Rella showed him a lopsided smile. ¡°If she told you that you¡¯re special and she¡¯ll give it all up for you, you¡¯re being played.¡±

    ¡°She is my servant in order to pay off a debt. The reasons for this are complicated but our relationship is not sexual.¡± He heard Lily make a sound from beside him, but paid her no attention. Rella laughed again.

    ¡°If you say so, pretty boy. I look forward to seeing if you can actually do your job.¡±

    Suppressing his anger, Tullund continued with the formalities. He saw no tents in the space that the small company occupied. ¡°You can find a quartermaster in central - that is, the center of the encampment - to purchase tents. You¡¯ll be able to keep them afterward, of course. This space is yours to do with as you please, within reason. Take the rest of the day to settle in, and we can begin formal evaluation tomorrow. I¡¯ll get to know the strengths of your unit and find the best ways you all can support the main army.¡±

    ¡°Do we get to know your strengths?¡± Frederick asked.

    ¡°I expect to be working on the same things you are, so yes. I will prepare a demonstration.¡±

    ¡°Good enough for me.¡± Rella cut in. ¡°We¡¯ll see you tomorrow, Lieutenant.¡±

    Tullund turned and walked away, only letting his anger show on his face when they could no longer see it.

    ¡°That went well, didn¡¯t it?¡± Lily asked as she followed him.

    ¡°Your job is very specifically not to lie to me when it comes to these things. I¡¯m supposed to be in charge but she dismissed me. They think I¡¯m a joke. And you did nothing to help by playing your games.¡±

    ¡°They think poorly of you but you will have a chance to prove them wrong. Taradira didn¡¯t give you your rank, you earned it on your own, surpassing her expectations of you.¡±

    ¡°Why are you so insistent on forming a relationship with me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a prisoner. A criminal. You are the one holding the keys to my cell. You control my meals. I might not be a slave that you can abuse as you see fit, but you do control my wellbeing. Improving your attitude towards me is in my best interest. I¡¯ve spent years doing that in a very specific way.¡±

    Tullund stopped, turning to look at her. In the weeks since they met, Lily never spoke so seriously for so long. Her playful nature was gone, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Turning again, he continued back towards their tent. ¡°I did horrible things so that a woman would praise me. I thought I loved her and that the way she treated me was how love worked. It turned out I was just a toy to her. I met someone who did love me, properly. The first woman killed her. Then I got revenge. After that, I found a new life, away from all of that.¡±

    ¡°Until I ruined it.¡± Lily supplied. ¡°Yeah. I know. I¡¯m trying to work past that. Show you the good parts of me. It just so happens that the best way to do that is without having any clothes on.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not interested in that.¡±

    He heard her increase her pace, walking right beside him. ¡°Would you prefer some special outfits? I¡¯m sure if you let me go into the city I can find something. Are you more into leather or black lace? Or maybe something else?¡±

    ¡°I should have let Taradira make you scrub pots.¡±

    Lily giggled.

 Chapter 8, Book 2: Reunion - part 1

    Linara wanted to ask what Atheyara had done to her room. The walls were covered in drawings. Not tapestries, not paintings, but pen on parchment drawings of a wide variety of human constructs. Detailed designs of everything from wagons and plows to chariots and crossbows.

    She had barely taken it all in, the question still forming, when she looked at Atheyara directly. The Hatharen sat in a chair at a desk, similarly covered in papers. Her appearance changed the question as it left Linara¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°What did you do!¡±

    ¡°Chara, give us some privacy. Wait outside.¡± The serving girl who had let Linara in nodded, placing a key on the table beside the door before sliding out. ¡°Can you lock that? The king demands that my condition be kept a secret.¡± Silent, Linara did as requested, locking the door. ¡°Sit.¡± The woman said, pointing at a chair. The whole time, she kept her other hand on her stomach.

    Linara felt her blood rushing through her head. She sat down, grabbing her knees, her fingers straining against the fabric of her pants. She had so many questions. ¡°Is that¡­his?¡±

    ¡°The king? Yes.¡± Atheyara nodded, her short white hair falling over her eyes. She used her free hand to push it back.

    ¡°Why did you-no, why were you allowed to leave if this was a possibility?¡±

    That got a chuckle from her. ¡°Allowed to leave? I was sent here. Against my will.¡±

    Taking another look around the room, the first piece of the puzzle fell into place. All of the drawings on the walls and the desk. This woman had an obsession. Linara had never met her during her time growing up and living in the stronghold because Atheyara was shunned and hidden away to prevent her from disrupting the Hatharen way of life. Someone like her would be the best to replace Linara - an easy way to get rid of her and limit her influence in the society while still getting some use out of her.

    ¡°Why him? Why Senral?¡±

    ¡°He talked to me. He helped me get all of this.¡± Atheyara gestured around the room. ¡°He was the first person who treated me as a friend. One day it just¡­happened. I took what I wanted.¡±

    ¡°And so you have his child.¡± Linara said, her eyes falling to Atheyara¡¯s slightly rounded stomach.

    ¡°I don¡¯t really want it. It¡¯s annoying to move around. I¡¯ve had to hide in this room for over a month, with only Chara to help me.¡±

    Her head pounded. Her jaw hurt from clenching it. She was angry. Jealous. It had taken her a week to finally go and meet Atheyara, and in that time she had seen Senral¡¯s children with the queen, and even that hadn¡¯t affected her this much.

    ¡°You¡¯re upset.¡± Atheyara said.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°It is not his fault. I did this. I begged him for it.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t even want his child. Your child. The one inside you right now.¡±

    She shrugged, causing Linara to clench her teeth again. Her entire body was rigid with anger. ¡°I did what my body demanded I do. I didn¡¯t want to do it. I was not strong enough to fight the urge, so I gave in to it. To make it go away so I could get back to what I really care about. I did not want¡­this.¡± Her eyes met Linara¡¯s. ¡°Would you like it?¡±

    The question swept all of her anger away, replacing it with shock. The jealousy was still there. ¡°I-you would do that?¡±

    ¡°I do not want to care for a child, and one cannot be raised in this castle. I understand you are staying here only temporarily. Stay for a year, take the child with you when you leave.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t what she wanted. It was as close as she¡¯d ever get. Senral¡¯s child, with Hatharen blood. A child that was just like her, but also his. ¡°I¡­need to think about it.¡±

    ¡°Then do so. I¡¯m busy.¡± Atheyara turned back to her desk, picking up a drawing and staring at it. Linara waited a moment, but no longer had her attention.

    Outside, she gave the key to Chara, who stepped back in the room. Taking a deep breath, Linara went to find Senral.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know how it worked.¡± Senral said. She had dragged him out of a meeting, to the shock of the other participants. Linara didn¡¯t care what they might think, she just demanded to talk to him, alone, without giving any respect to his position. He had called an end to the meeting and followed her to one of the castle¡¯s many side rooms, with a few chairs and a table.

    ¡°You know how babies are made, Senral.¡±

    ¡°Not with your people. You never seemed concerned about the possibility of having one with me.¡±

    Linara opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. His words weren¡¯t said harshly, but they hurt. Something inside her snapped. She sat down, the anger gone, and started crying. She had never cried in front of him before. He was instantly beside her, his hand holding hers.

    ¡°Linara, what-¡°

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t-¡°

    ¡°I can¡¯t have children.¡± She interrupted him again. ¡°Half-breeds can¡¯t. If I could have, I would. I would have agreed to be your queen. I would be the one sitting next to you. I¡¯d be the one giving you children. It would have been me. If I could have done it. I wanted it.¡±

    He fell silent, holding her hand tightly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Why does she get to do it? She doesn¡¯t even want the child! She offered it to me. She didn¡¯t even pity me, she just¡­she just doesn¡¯t care! It¡¯s the easiest thing for her to do. I hate her. I hate myself. I couldn¡¯t tell you. I didn¡¯t want you to know that I¡¯m¡­broken.¡±

    ¡°Linara¡­¡± He trailed off, then wrapped his arms around her.  ¡°I still love you, Linara. You aren¡¯t broken.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Linara stood up, grabbing Senral¡¯s head and pulling him towards her to kiss him. When she pulled away, she smiled at him.

    ¡°I know that smile, Linara. You-¡°

    ¡°It¡¯s all I have.¡± She cut him off. ¡°I¡­I came back here, knowing you had children with the queen. I still wanted you anyway. This¡­this doesn¡¯t change that. You¡¯re just a horny idiot. You make me one, too, even though I pretend you don¡¯t.¡±

    Senral nodded, grinning at her, before a knock on the door interrupted them both.

    ¡°Enter.¡± Senral said, stepping away from Linara and turning to face the door.

    Rilren stepped inside. ¡°The queen¡¯s sister has arrived, unannounced. I thought you should know. Also,¡± His gaze moved to Linara. ¡°She has requested your presence.¡±

    ¡°Let us go greet the princess, then.¡± Senral said, following Rilren. Frowning, Linara trailed after the two of them. She vaguely remembered meeting Yenra¡¯s sister at one point, along with a long list of other nobles from Wellent in the months leading up to the royal wedding, but didn¡¯t even remember the girl¡¯s name.

    The two were led to a much more proper sitting room, containing a plush couch with two elegant chairs opposite it. On the couch sat the queen and another woman with a similar build, but darker hair, falling loosely to her shoulders rather than tied into complicated loops. The younger sister wore an outfit starkly contrasting her sister¡¯s - a simple button down shirt and a long dress, leaving her chest covered.

    After her glance over the princess, Linara¡¯s gaze shifted to the figure standing awkwardly behind the couch, and her eyes grew wide. The orange hair stood out starkly against her brown uniform. Unlike the last time the two had met, Ferene¡¯s armor was clean and polished, her outfit properly fitting her frame.

    ¡°What are you wearing?¡± Was her only response.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Ferene began, looking at Linara, then down at the princess. ¡°She gave me clothes.¡±

    The young woman stood up, leaving her older sister sitting on the couch. She bowed to Senral, then looked at Linara. ¡°Ferene is, temporarily, my personal knight and bodyguard. We met on the road and she told me she was traveling here in order to find you. I supplied her with a proper uniform for her position.¡±

    The princess seemed very proud of this, but Linara didn¡¯t know why. Yenra was smiling at her younger sister, an expression on her face Linara rarely saw. Shifting her focus back to Ferene, she opened her mouth to say something, but stopped as the other Hatharen stepped forward, her hand extending, holding a-

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    A Hatharen dagger.

    Linara reached out, taking the knife from her. ¡°You met them.¡±

    ¡°I did.¡±

    Unsheathing the blade, Linara found a dark steel blade, just as she expected. The blade was engraved with an inscription, detailing the family and stronghold that had taken Ferene in. ¡°You did better than I thought.¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t last very long.¡±

    Linara turned to the two other women in the room. ¡°I need to talk to Ferene alone.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± The princess said. Linara still couldn¡¯t remember her name, but she lead Ferene back out into the hall, passing by Senral who smiled at her.

    ¡°So you know the secrets of our people.¡± Linara said after moving away from the guards at the door.

    ¡°I learned a lot.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t let you stay.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not like them.¡±

    Linara sighed. She knew this would be the outcome, which was why she had warned Ferene not to go, but she had hoped, just a little, that it could have been different. Her parentage aside, Ferene was almost entirely human. She didn¡¯t know the Hatharen language or anything about the way of life or traditions, and would not fit in. As with Atheyara, Hatheren society had little flexibility for those that did not fit in.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t bad.¡± The girl gave a small grin, surprising Linara. They hadn¡¯t spent much time together, but Ferene had never smiled or taken joy in anything during those few days. ¡°I had a family.¡±

    ¡°You did.¡± Linara handed the knife back. Ferene took it, gently, and slid it back under her armor. She treated it as far more than a weapon. ¡°Who is Rilya?¡±

    Ferene¡¯s eyes went wide, and, again to Linara¡¯s shock, she blushed. ¡°A friend. More than a friend. I love her. I miss her. How do you know about her?¡±

    ¡°Her name was next to yours, when it listed your family.¡±

    ¡°Taradira didn¡¯t say anything about that.¡±

    It was Linara¡¯s turn to be surprised. ¡°You even met her? You¡¯ve had quite a journey.¡±

    ¡°She helped me find my father.¡±

    Linara could only nod at that.

    ¡°I wanted to find you. To thank you. You made this all possible. I¡­I learned a lot, all because of you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad it worked out, after we parted I worried that I treated you too harshly. You¡­¡± She trailed off, her mind going back to the conversation with Senral just before. ¡°You reminded me of too many things.¡± Linara smiled at Ferene, and the other woman nodded. The awkwardness was still there, the tension. She looked like she had so much to say, so much to express, all lurking just beneath the surface, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to say any of it. Linara wondered what in her past had caused her to withdraw in that way. ¡°You can talk to me about anything, if you want. We should get back to the others. Royalty doesn¡¯t like being left waiting.¡±

    Ferene pressed her lips together before responding. ¡°I¡­did a lot of things after I met you. I¡¯ll tell you about them.¡±

    The two returned to the queen¡¯s sitting room, to find her and the princess still sharing the couch, with Senral lounging on the chair across from them, having some kind of conversation. The princess stood up when she saw Ferene enter, walking over and standing on the tips of her toes, the Hatharen bending down to listen closely. Ferene nodded at whatever was asked, and the princess took her seat again. Yenra watched the exchange, her expression relaxed, until she noticed Linara¡¯s gaze. As their eyes met, the queen frowned, then looked away.

    ¡°Princess Cerise was just telling us about the situation on the southern border of Wellent. Apparently a group of former soldiers and mercenaries took over an old military fort and have been threatening local farmers who live outside the protection of the king.¡± Senral cut in. ¡°What is your take on that, Linara?¡± He gestured her to the other chair, as Ferene returned to her position standing behind the princess - Cerise.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Linara asked as she sat down.

    ¡°Something must be done about it.¡± Cerise supplied. ¡°Several of the criminals are already¡­taken care of, but surely there are more.¡±

    Yenra frowned again. ¡°I thought my plan was sound. Wellent assembles a force, removes these lowlifes, and makes their base impossible to be used again. Problem solved.¡±

    Linara shrugged. ¡°How old is the fort and what condition is it in? It could be useful.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± Senral asked.

    ¡°Is Wellent not preparing to defend against potential aggression from Ettsgras or Celngi? Expanding their own border to include fortifications would be useful.¡±

    Yenra leaned back, tilting her head slightly. ¡°If I remember my history properly, the fort in question is ancient, but of quality construction. It dates back to the last years of the Knights of Resh.¡±

    Linara¡¯s gaze focused sharply on the queen, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed Ferene looking at the short woman intently. Linara¡¯s gaze wandered to the other Hatharen¡¯s back, where she carried her sword, the crossguard a match for the one on the statue of Resh himself. Apparently Ferene was somewhat aware of the connection.

    ¡°I want to be there.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to rush back into that, Ren.¡± Cerise said, looking over her shoulder up at her knight.

    ¡°Ren?¡± Linara echoed.

    ¡°Ferene. Ren.¡± Cerise grinned as she clarified. Ferene¡¯s expression remained unchanged at the nickname.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­cute.¡± Linara did not think the name was very fitting, but it was becoming clear to her that the princess viewed Ferene in a very different way than she did.

    ¡°I think this is a good opportunity to strengthen the ties between our people.¡± Senral broke the silence. ¡°A joint military exercise to capture the fort and convert it into our own holding.¡±

    ¡°I¡­think that would be a good idea.¡± Yenra looked at her husband, then at Linara, then back to Senral. Linara wondered what had just happened to get that specific reaction. ¡°Borders have gone unchanged for a long time, and we have both the immediate threat of these outlaws and the looming danger of war in the future as a reason to change that. This small part of the Independent Lands can become territory of Wellent. Should we call a war council?¡±

    Cerise¡¯s eyes went wide, suddenly finding herself in the center of a heavy political discussion. ¡°This is a rather serious discussion for just this room.¡± Linara said, watching as the younger woman threw her a look of gratitude. ¡°A war council would be a much better place to discuss the details.¡±

    ¡°Yes. A military campaign, however short, needs proper planning. We will postpone this discussion for now. This was supposed to be a friendly visit.¡± Senral smiled at Cerise, who nodded.

    ¡°Well, I came here mostly as an excuse to help Ren meet Linara. My own visit was just an excuse, though I do miss you, sister.¡±

    Yenra smiled at the princess. Once again Linara felt odd, as if she was looking at a different person. The hard, calculating face of the queen softened, giving way to genuine happiness. ¡°You must like her a lot, if you came all this way to do a favor for her.¡±

    Cerise blushed, ducking her head to hide it. Linara looked up at Ferene, the Hatharen still just standing stiffly behind the couch, unaffected by being the center of the discussion. It seemed the princess¡¯s feelings were not mutual. ¡°Ferene and I have a lot to catch up on.¡± Linara cut in. ¡°I am eager to hear of what happened to her in the months since our last meeting - our brief discussion earlier did not give her the time to divulge all of the details.¡±

    Senral picked up the queue. ¡°Why don¡¯t you two go and have your talk. Yenra and I will look after the princess, if she will allow her knight to leave her side for the rest of the day?¡±

    Cerise looked up, still flustered from her sister¡¯s teasing. ¡°Y-yes, of course. I don¡¯t mean to keep you from your friend.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Linara said, bowing. She nodded at Ferene, who copied the bow and then followed her out the door.

    ¡°Princess Cerise seems rather taken with you.¡±

    ¡°She wanted to kiss me.¡± Ferene replied as she followed Linara through the halls of the castle.

    ¡°It looks to me like she wants more than just that.¡±

    ¡°I know. I turned her down.¡±

    ¡°There was a time when I thought you wanted something like that from me.¡± Linara turned to grin at Ferene. The other woman kept her expression blank, but Linara noticed her look away for a brief moment.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know, back then.¡±

    ¡°But you do now.¡±

    ¡°Rilya taught me.¡± She said bluntly. Linara was not prepared for the admission to come so openly. She laughed.

    ¡°Well, I won¡¯t press you about that, but you¡¯ll have to tell me about the rest of your travels.¡± The two arrived at Linara¡¯s new rooms. She sat down in a chair, and grinned as Ferene first tried to just stand before sitting down in another chair. ¡°So, you know about your connection to the Knights of Resh.¡±

    Ferene touched her sword, which she had rested against the side of the chair. ¡°The Hatharen who trained me told me about them. They were¡­warriors of justice, or random killers. Or both.¡±

    Linara frowned. She didn¡¯t know about that. ¡°I met one of the founders. A good friend of Resh himself. I figured he might be interested in meeting you, but I put him on the path to Taradira.¡±

    Ferene stared at Linara, her face expressionless. ¡°The knights existed a thousand years ago.¡±

    ¡°They were founded much longer ago than that. Resh¡¯s friend was a Hatharen, who ended up sealed in a room, withering¡­not quite away, but withered down to nearly nothing. That¡¯s my story, however. I¡¯m more interested in yours. Tell me what happened to you, after Cefgras.¡±

    Linara listened as Ferene slowly told her story. She watched the other Hatharen¡¯s face closely, seeing the small bits of emotion Ferene showed. The tale of the mine was bland, but her face light up when she started talking about her journey north. Linara saw her smile again, as she talked about meeting the group that would become her family on the road, and spending time with them while she recovered from her fight with the Direag. Linara stayed silent, withholding her own comments about how impressive Ferene¡¯s feats were, instead just enjoying the story. Instead of just her default blank expression and varying degrees of anger that Ferene had displayed before, Linara saw her show joy, sadness, bitterness, and regret as she talked about her time in Yonthal.

    Holding back her comments became hard when Ferene talked about the battle beyond the wall. Linara knew the stress of that kind of situation, being surrounded by the monsters. Ferene had been lucky.

    That part of the story came to an end, and she went on to describe her journey south. Linara noted she seemed to slow down and omit a few details around the time she met Taradira, but quickly picked up again as she talked about ending up joining slavers and turning against them. This showed yet another emotion. Ferene felt some form of embarrassment at the situation. Linara smiled at this.

    Describing her father brought Ferene almost to a halt. She tried several times, had to stop and start over more than once before she managed to find a way to talk about him that satisfied her. The girl was not good with words, but understood when she wasn¡¯t saying what she wanted to say. Linara felt bad - she had underestimated how intelligent Ferene was. The girl could not read or write and repeatedly made bad decisions, but she wanted to do better.

    Then she mentioned a forest, and immediately stopped. Linara stared at her. ¡°What happened in the forest?¡± She asked, speaking up for the first time since the start of the story.

    Ferene looked away. ¡°I found¡­a¡­a deer.¡±

    ¡°A deer? Just the one deer? Why¡­No, never mind. What happened after the forest?¡± She spared Ferene from having to lie more about whatever she was trying to cover up. If it was important for her to hide it, Linara could figure it out later. She¡¯d have to look into the history of that area. As Ferene started talking about meeting Cerise, Linara realized the person most familiar with history was Queen Yenra. Perhaps seeking more information could be postponed.

    ¡°And then she took me here.¡± Ferene finished.

 Chapter 8, Book 2: Reunion - part 2

    After telling her own story, Ferene listened to Linara talk about the original headquarters of the Knights of Resh, and her encounter with Grathen. Ferene mentioned her meeting with Tahrean, and the history revealed to her. This made Linara go silent, and Ferene felt that she may have said too much.

    ¡°I was aware of the possibility, but¡­I never thought that someone would actually still be around, from that long ago. Older than Grathen. Older than¡­everyone, probably. Aesuthal is the largest of the strongholds, but I don¡¯t think anyone there knows that much history. Not that it matters. We can¡¯t go back to the way we were.¡±

    Ferene nodded, and Linara took a deep breath, pushing herself to her feet. ¡°You should get back to your employer, ¡®Ren.¡¯¡±

    Standing, Ferene collected her things. Just like before, even without her armor and weapons Linara radiated strength. The woman walked the halls of the castle as if she belonged there, wearing simple yet well made clothes, just like the men in the castle that Ferene had seen. Ferene, despite her uniform and armor, felt like she didn¡¯t belong. A vagrant pretending to be a guard, a beggar having slipped into the palace. She didn¡¯t even know her way around. ¡°Where would she be, now?¡±

    ¡°Ask a servant and they will tell you.¡± Linara said.

    Servants. The idea was so alien to Ferene. Ask for something and get it. People had a job to tell her what she wanted. This was how Linara had lived? Yet somehow, Ferene was now in the same place, being treated as Linara¡¯s equal. How had she ended up like this?

    ¡°You just let her call you that? It doesn¡¯t bother you?¡±

    Ferene looked at her friend, confused.

    ¡°Ren. Cerise calls you Ren.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Ferene shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±

    ¡°Can I call you Ren?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    Linara smiled at her. ¡°Alright, Ren. See you tomorrow.¡±

    Ferene turned and left. She did find a servant, and was directed to another part of the castle, taking a winding path through hallways and staircases until she came to an ornate door, flanked by two guards.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to leave your weapons.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°No weapons in the royal bedchambers.¡±

    Ferene blinked. ¡°I¡¯m looking for Princess Cerise.¡±

    ¡°She is inside, conversing with the Queen. She told me to let you in, but you may not bring your weapons.¡±

    With a sigh, Ferene unslung the sword from her back, then the shorter weapon at her waist, and then pulled the knife from her boot and presented that as well. Nodding, the guard opened the door and let her inside.

    Once again, Ferene found herself standing in what she still considered an alien environment. Ornate rugs with intricate designs depicting something Ferene couldn¡¯t make sense of, a massive four poster bed not touching any walls, and a low, long chair with a back and only one arm. Queen Yenra and Princess Cerise were reclining on this, the younger sister laying on her sibling¡¯s arm, the queen holding a wine glass in her free hand. Seeing Ferene enter, Cerise sat up, smiling.

    ¡°Did you enjoy your talk with Linara?¡±

    Ferene shrugged. ¡°I thanked her.¡±

    Pushing herself to her feet, Cerise pouted. ¡°Is that all you wanted to find her for? Why not send a letter?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t write. Or read.¡±

    Yenra broke her silence, but did not rise. ¡°It is highly improper for your knight to be so uneducated, Cerise.¡±

    Turning, Cerise bowed. ¡°I¡­I didn¡¯t know, I¡¯m incredibly sorry.¡±

    ¡°I understand you took her into your employ on a whim, but you must at least have a plan for her education going forward.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I¡¯ll-¡°

    Ferene cut in. ¡°It would be a waste of time. I won¡¯t be staying that long.¡±

    This time, Yenra pouted, her expression almost a mirror of her sister¡¯s from earlier. ¡°I was hoping to tease her more.¡± She said, before taking a long sip from her glass, emptying it.

    Cerise made a noise, then stepped to Ferene¡¯s side. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking Ferene to my guest room, now that she has returned to me.¡±

    ¡°Why not stay here?¡± Yenra asked.

    ¡°But the king-¡°

    ¡°King Senral will most likely not be spending the night with me.¡± Yenra said, rising to her feet, a sour expression on her face. ¡°He has made a habit of spending his nights in another woman¡¯s bed. The two of you can stay here. There¡¯s more than enough space.¡± She grabbed a bottle off a table and refilled her glass.

    Cerise brought her hands to her face. ¡°B-but he¡¯s¡­your husband. You have children.¡±

    ¡°The children are taken care of by servants, allowing us to attend to our duties. We hardly qualify as parents. As a king, he is entitled to as many women as he would like. Unfortunately he only wants this one, and since her return he has neglected me.¡±

    Cerise went silent for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s Linara, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Yenra leaned against the table, drinking half of the wine she had just poured. ¡°I want to hate her. I do hate her. But, since she came back, the king is better. Without her, he is less than half of himself. He takes little interest in most things, and is quick to anger when something does get through to him. Only one thing can hold his attention at a time, and it doesn¡¯t last long. He throws himself into one thing after another, with little regard for anything else. Behavior ill-fitting of a king.¡±

    Finishing off her glass, she set it down and returned to the chair. ¡°Yet when she is here, he is so much more. He is involved in everything and anything, providing his input, using his vast intellect properly. He even showed some interest in our children. He spent three hours with them just today. He even takes more interest in me, when she isn¡¯t in the same room, monopolizing him.¡±

    Ferene wasn¡¯t sure what to say, staying silent as Yenra tossed herself backwards onto the chair. ¡°I¡¯ll just sleep here, you two can have the bed.¡±

    Cerise rushed to her sister¡¯s side, her face red. ¡°N-no, you must sleep in your own bed. Ferene and I-¡°

    ¡°I¡¯m the queen, so you have to do what I say.¡± Yenra declared, pointing a hand at Ferene. ¡°You. Take off all that armor. You are to relax for the rest of the night. There are guards at the door. Stop standing like a statue. You look ridiculous.¡±

    Without complaint, Ferene took off her armor. She felt ridiculous, but the armor wasn¡¯t the issue. The uniform that Cerise gave her, and just being in this place disturbed her. She was constantly on edge, still waiting for them to realize that she didn¡¯t belong here and kick her out, but it didn¡¯t happen.

    Cerise approached her, blushing. ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave her alone right now.¡± She whispered. ¡°She¡¯s very drunk.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just join them?¡± Ferene asked. Cerise and Yenra both stared at her.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± The queen asked.

    She remembered Ilraeghen, Sathar, and Filraehen. ¡°I knew three people who routinely slept together. Why can¡¯t you just do that?¡±

    Immediately after she proposed the idea fully, Ferene realized she had said something wrong. The silence that followed filled the room.

    ¡°Linara and I do not get along. Isn¡¯t that obvious? There is no way that either of us could share a bed with the other, even with Senral there to¡­mediate.¡±

    The queen fell silent after that statement, demanding a blanket from the bed, which Ferene supplied. Yenra wrapped it around herself and closed her eyes. Feigning sleep or not, she seemed to have no more interest in Ferene or Cerise.

    ¡°You can relax, you know. She was right about that. You¡¯re still acting like you¡¯re on the lookout for someone who will attack me.¡±

    Ferene pressed her lips together. ¡°I¡¯m not used to¡­this.¡± She finally said, gesturing at the room. ¡°The whole castle.¡±

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Sadness spread across Cerise¡¯s face, and Ferene regretted expressing herself. ¡°If you want to go, I won¡¯t stop you. I¡­got carried away, keeping you by my side. I know you don¡¯t feel for me the way I feel for you.¡±

    ¡°I want to see the fort.¡±

    Cerise nodded. ¡°I was almost taken there. I want to see those people brought to justice.¡± She straightened her back, looking up at Ferene seriously. ¡°I¡­If there is war in the future, I have to be familiar with battle. With¡­death.¡±

    Shaking her head, Ferene reached out, placing her hand on Cerise¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You don¡¯t. Not everyone needs to fight. I used to think that people were helpless, waiting to become victims. You don¡¯t have to force yourself to experience that world.¡±

    ¡°No¡­I¡¯m supposed to be a leader. I acted like a child, before. I still do. I need to start acting my age. I¡¯m an adult, royalty. The younger sister of a queen.¡± She looked back at Yenra for a moment. ¡°If I don¡¯t want people to keep treating me like a child, I have to stop acting like one. I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll join the war council.¡±

    Determination. The way she stood, the way she spoke, reminded Ferene more of the Queen from earlier today than the Cerise she had gotten to know in the past week. ¡°Then let¡¯s get some sleep.¡±

    At those words, it all vanished. Cerise looked over at the bed, then at Ferene, and blushed. ¡°T-together?¡± She asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a large bed.¡± Ferene remarked.

    Ferene stood, fully dressed and armored, behind Cerise¡¯s chair in the war council. Getting in was easy - the queen represented Wellent¡¯s people, but sent the princess in her place after hearing her younger sister¡¯s determination. The other seats at the small table held the king, an older man Ferene had never seen before, the man who often followed the king around, and Linara.

    Senral started the meeting by directly addressing Cerise. ¡°It¡¯s good that you are here, since you have the most direct experience with the situation. Please describe it for everyone.¡±

    There was a moment of silence, and Ferene could only assume that Cerise had not expected it to start like this. ¡°A group of former soldiers and mercenaries has taken over a fort on the southern border of Wellent. They are extorting the nearby farmers in some way. This lead to my recent kidnapping.¡± Ferene heard her take a deep breath. ¡°A proper response is called for. The farmers in that area are part of Wellent¡¯s economy, as they cross the border to sell their harvest. The attempted kidnapping of royalty cannot be ignored. Additionally, with war on the horizon in the south, securing defensive fortifications is a priority.¡±

    Senral raised an eyebrow, and nodded. ¡°I noticed that this is an excellent opportunity to work together with Wellent. Reminding the people that we are united. General, what are your thoughts?¡± He turned to the older man.

    The man stood up, slowly, rubbing a hand over his half-bald head. Ferene could not help but compare him to Taradira. This general was short, old, and did not look like he would be any good in a fight. ¡°We have the men to spare, and a joint venture would be good. Especially if our people will be fighting a war together. Princess, what can you tell me of the numbers, training, and equipment of this group?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ah¡­¡± She coughed, once. ¡°My bodyguard here can provide the details of that, as she fought several of them.¡±

    It took a moment for Ferene to realize Cerise had passed the question on to her. How was she supposed to speak at a meeting like this? ¡°I fought a small party. They were mounted and knew how to fight. They were all trained fighters, working together. Not your common thugs. I don¡¯t know how many of them there are total, but if they have gone unnoticed until now there can¡¯t be more than a hundred.¡± Trained or not, they were just criminals. If there were more of them they would be doing more than threatening farmers.

    The general nodded, placing his hands on the table and leaning heavily on it. ¡°What do we know of the fort? Even a small group can be a problem if they have strong walls to defend them.¡±

    Cerise spoke up again. ¡°My sister found information in the archives about the structure. It is very old, constructed entirely out of stone. It sits on top of a small hill, and it is triangular, with three towers and three walls. When it was last investigated the interior was empty - the courtyard had only ruins of wooden structures and was overgrown with plants.¡±

    Sitting down, the general addressed Senral. ¡°I would let my counterpart in Wellent come up with a proper plan of attack, after scouting. We can provide a small cavalry force, as a symbol, as well as one company of foot soldiers.¡±

    ¡°That simple? Fair enough. Rilren, what are your thoughts on the matter?¡± Senral turned to the other man, the one she had seen following him the previous day.

    ¡°Do you wish to attend this venture, my lord?¡±

    ¡°A show of commitment would be beneficial, I believe.¡±

    ¡°I want to go.¡± Cerise interjected. ¡°If¡­if there is to be a royal presence, it should be me. I discovered them, and they wronged me. I want to see this through.¡±

    Senral looked at her sharply, but nodded. ¡°There you have it. Wellent¡¯s princess will oversee taking the fort.¡±

    Rilren looked directly at Ferene. ¡°And you are going to be there to protect her?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Ferene said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to wait while others fight.¡±

    ¡°Then you are ill-suited to be the princess¡¯s protector.¡± He said, leaning forward.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Rilren looked at Ferene curiously when she agreed with him. She didn¡¯t know what he expected of her.

    ¡°I will be reunited with my regular bodyguards in Wellent.¡± Cerise cut in. ¡°Ren - Ferene - can do what she wants. Her employment was only a temporary measure.¡±

    Rilren sat back. ¡°Very well. There you have it, your majesty. The princess will be properly protected.¡±

    Senral turned back to the old man. ¡°General, how long will it take to prepare a force?¡±

    ¡°Give me five days.¡±

    ¡°Princess, how long were you planning to stay here?¡±

    ¡°I can leave tomorrow, to bring the news to Wellent so we can start our own preparations.¡±

    Senral smiled at this. ¡°Very timely. I believe that concludes the meeting.¡±

    ¡°What are you thinking?¡± Linara demanded.

    She intercepted Cerise and Ferene in the hallway outside the council chambers. Cerise turned to face her, drawing herself up to her full, unimpressive height. ¡°I don¡¯t understand your question.¡±

    ¡°You have no experience as a leader. You¡¯re going to sit back and watch, being completely useless. You¡¯ll be nothing more than a target that everyone will worry about. And you!¡± She pointed at Ferene. ¡°This isn¡¯t a skirmish. Do you know how to fight alongside human soldiers? Assaulting a castle, of all things? You¡¯re just as inexperienced.¡±

    ¡°Ren and I are finishing what we started on the road.¡± Cerise said. ¡°I don¡¯t need advice from you. Why were you even in the meeting? You didn¡¯t say anything. What do you even do here, aside from stealing my sister¡¯s husband?¡±

    Ferene watched as Linara¡¯s face changed, her initial exasperation fading into shock, then anger. ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about that.¡±

    ¡°I know that the king did not sleep in his own bed last night. Perhaps you know where he did sleep?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s the king.¡± Linara said. ¡°He can sleep wherever he wants. With whoever he wants. Your sister knows better than to complain about it, despite how bitter she is. Don¡¯t complain in her place.¡±

    ¡°If he wants to be with you so much, why aren¡¯t you the queen?¡±

    Something happened. Ferene wasn¡¯t entirely sure what it was. Linara¡¯s face twisted, anger doubling. Her hand snapped out, aiming for Cerise¡¯s face. Ferene moved, her own arm reaching out, intercepting the blow. It happened in an instant. Cerise tripped backwards, falling against Ferene.

    The two Hatharen locked eyes. Linara¡¯s expression didn¡¯t soften as she glared at Ferene. ¡°Fifteen minutes. Training field.¡± With that, Linara turned and walked away.

    ¡°I¡­I think I made her mad. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Where is the training field?¡± Ferene asked.

    Cerise was right.

    Linara valued the idea of belonging. Of having someone that was for you, and only for you, and giving yourself to someone else in the same way. She left because she didn¡¯t want to break that, yet had come back to do exactly that. To be more Hatharen? To be more human?

    After Atheyara and her talk with Senral, she was holding in too much. Cerise¡¯s words brought that guilt she had been ignoring. Linara picked up her spear, donned her armor, and stomped through the halls, towards the training field. Her guilt and jealousy and bitterness had overwhelmed her. She needed to hit something. Ferene would do.

    Fifteen minutes passed, and she had calmed down only slightly. Cerise was there, standing behind Ferene. Despite her reaction to the violence earlier, she spoke up, talking clearly. ¡°I will be overseeing this duel. Because you initiated it against me, it will be held under Wellent¡¯s customs, not Olentor¡¯s. You each may select one weapon, and leave the rest behind.¡±

    Linara didn¡¯t want a duel, she just wanted to hit something. Smiling wasn¡¯t going to make her anger go away. Not this time. If she had to duel to get that, she¡¯d obey the rules. She tossed her dagger down, and held her spear up. Ferene dropped her short sword, pulled a knife out of her boot, and then very carefully set her dagger down. The act added to Linara¡¯s anger. Born outside the strongholds, Ferene had found a family that accepted her and let her in, that she had parted on good terms with. Linara had grown up among the Hatharen yet had parted on far worse terms.

    The two stepped forward, Ferene taking up a stance and waiting.

    She was different. There was confidence, and she held herself better than when Linara had seen her fight back in Cefgras. Linara fell into her own stance, but quickly dropped out of it, charging forward, thrusting at Ferene from a distance, taking advantage of the range of her weapon.

    Ferene stood her ground, making small movements to avoid and parry each attack, waiting patiently. Linara found herself smiling. She became more aggressive, daring Ferene to either make a move or fall back. The other Hatharen blocked one attack, catching the tip of the spear on her sword¡¯s crossguard, the unique design of the quillons hooking the spearhead as Linara pulled back. In the brief moment of their weapons locking together, Ferene pushed Linara back, making more space for herself. As Linara retreated, she managed to free her weapon.

    Grinning, she took another step back, giving Ferene more space to work with. As her foot touched the ground, finishing her step, Ferene surged forward. She was fast, but Linara was ready for it. She parried one swing, and stepped back out of the way of another before she lunged forward herself, following up on the opening. Ferene stepped back, giving up the ground she had just taken.

    Both of them paused for a moment, each waiting for the other to move first. Ferene broke the stalemate, making a one-handed lunge directly at Linara¡¯s chest. Linara held her spear vertically and swiped it across the space in front of her, but Ferene had already shifted, loosening her grip and letting Linara push the sword aside, but not deflect her momentum.

    There was a very small range where Ferene¡¯s two-handed sword was effective but Linara¡¯s spear wasn¡¯t, and Ferene had maneuvered directly into it. She made her next swing, aiming at Linara¡¯s side. Taking one hand off her spear, Linara reached for her belt-

    And found nothing.

    Ferene¡¯s sword connected with her armor, and Linara found herself thrown off her feet. Pain blossomed in her side as she hit the ground. She could hear Cerise yelling for them to stop. Despite the pain, Linara laughed. She was an idiot. She had needed that loss.

    ¡°You¡¯re bleeding.¡±

    Ferene was standing over her, looking down as Linara sat in the dirt. The strike had penetrated her armor, leaving a wound just below her ribcage. ¡°It¡¯ll heal.¡± Linara replied, reaching a hand to Ferene. The other Hatharen pulled her upwards. ¡°You beat me. I guess you didn¡¯t need my training after all.¡±

    ¡°You tried something at the end there. What was that?¡±

    ¡°Knife parry. I didn¡¯t have my knife.¡± Linara took a deep breath as she stood. ¡°Wellent tradition is a poor recreation of a real battle.¡±

    Ferene nodded. ¡°You were holding back.¡±

    Linara couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°I was letting out my anger. I need to apologize to the princess, since I lost.¡±

 Manager of Misfits - 2: Unexpected Arrivals

    ¡°Banditry. You want to bring banditry into the army.¡±

    ¡°Not¡­into the army proper. Just the mercenaries. This specific group.¡± Tullund shrunk back into his chair under Taradira¡¯s gaze. The general had personally summoned him to her tent to have an update on the group under his command, though he didn¡¯t know why.

    In the week since receiving the assignment, he had, mostly, won the trust of the company. Demonstrating his skill in archery left a lasting first impression, and he mostly let Rella take care of things on her own, which she apparently did not expect for such a small group.

    ¡°I will remind you that you are part of the army, not a mercenary.¡±

    He let out a sigh, straightening up and trying a different approach. ¡°I¡¯m using my knowledge of banditry to suggest a strategy that is similar, General. Give me freedom with this group to go behind enemy lines and disrupt supply chains. I know how to attack a caravan of wagons on a road. These people might not, but it¡¯s what they are best suited for. The leader of the group specialized in throwing knives and her second fights bare handed. These are not front line fighters. The best use you¡¯ll have for them is hanging back and waiting for a chance to harass the flanks. Why not put opportunists in a place with more opportunities?¡±

    Taradira raised an eyebrow, but kept her frown. ¡°You¡¯ve studied.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to let you down.¡±

    She fell silent for a time, then nodded. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll have someone draw up orders for you. There will be limitations on exactly how much freedom you have in terms of movement and target selection. I will not be releasing bandits into civilized lands, even during warfare. Now, about-¡°

    A messenger burst into the tent, eyes wide, panting. He gave a quick salute before words came rushing out of his mouth.

    ¡°General, a group of ten Hatharen showed up and they say they are looking for you.¡±

    ¡°Hatharen? Ten Hatharen?¡± She stood up, slowly, and the messenger nodded. ¡°Where are they now?¡±

    ¡°They were stopped at the edge of the camp, but nobody is sure what to do. They are, uh, odd.¡±

    Taradira stepped towards the man, towering over him. ¡°Odd how?¡±

    ¡°They are, well, they are wearing grass for clothes.¡±

    Silence. Taradira stared down at him, then turned to Tullund. ¡°You. Come with me.¡±

    He stood up, running to catch up with her as she left without even waiting for him. ¡°W-why me?¡±

    ¡°You have the most experience with my people out of anyone here, after myself.¡±

    There was a group of ten Hatharen, dressed in clothes made from dried grass, carrying spears and bows. They all stood at least a head above any of the soldiers nearby, though none of them were as tall as Taradira. Ferene¡¯s statement on the general being the tallest she had seen held up.

    As Tullund followed Taradira, the general called out to them in a language he didn¡¯t understand. All of them turned to face her at once. One woman stepped forward, unarmed, and approached Taradira. The general said something else.

    ¡°Yes, I do. We all do.¡± She replied.

    ¡°Good. It wouldn¡¯t do for me to be the only one you could talk to. Are you the leader?¡±

    ¡°My name is Nehnal, of the sixth circle.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Taradira Suladan. From Viventhal. What stronghold are you from?¡±

    ¡°The first circle never told us that.¡±

    ¡°What is¡­¡± Taradira trailed off, looking over the group of Hatharen in front of her. She pointed at a nearby soldier. ¡°Sergeant, find some tents for them. Set them up someplace away from everyone else, for today. You, Nenhal, come with me. You as well.¡± She pointed to Tullund with the last bit. He nodded.

    ¡°We went south, since that¡¯s the direction she came from. We didn¡¯t know what to look for, so we asked whoever would talk to us. It was difficult. A lot of humans ran in fear, but we eventually learned of a Hatharen in a small human village. When we found him, he told us to come here.¡±

    ¡°It should not surprise me that Selveren¡¯s daughter has less sense than him, to not even tell you to come to me, but he made up for it.¡± Taradira smiled.

    In Taradira¡¯s tent, Nenhal had, briefly, explained everything she knew about the history of her own people, and then recounted her meeting with Ferene and gathering up anyone curious about the outside world and setting out to explore it.

    ¡°So, what do you want to do?¡± Taradira asked. ¡°I can send you to a stronghold, if you want. Meet the rest of our people. I¡¯m not sure how they will respond to learning about deserters hiding for two thousand years. Your first circle ran away from that life for a reason. There may be consequences of that choice.¡±

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    ¡°We were born on this side of the mountains. We will stay here. Can we not join your camp here?¡±

    ¡°This is a war camp full of humans, waiting to fight and kill other humans.¡± Taradira¡¯s voice was hard.

    Nenhal, to her credit, did not seem phased. ¡°And why are you here?¡±

    The general laughed. ¡°I¡¯m here to learn how to fight wars. When I¡¯ve decided I know enough, I¡¯ll return to my people with new knowledge. And I¡¯ll put an end to the war your grandparent ran away from.¡±

    ¡°Then we will return there with you, having learned how to fight wars. Where our parents ran away, we will help you end it.¡±

    ¡°Only the men know how to fight?¡±

    ¡°Everyone knows how to use a bow to hunt, but only the men practice fighting each other.¡±

    Taradira looked at Tullund and smiled. He stared at her, his eyes wide. ¡°General.¡±

    ¡°Lieutenant, what are your thoughts?¡±

    ¡°On what, General?¡± He asked. He did not like where this was going.

    ¡°I believe we have another group of volunteers ill-fitted for the front line.¡±

    ¡°General, I¡¯m not sure I would be the best-¡°

    ¡°They ended up here because of Ferene. She isn¡¯t here to deal with them, but she did leave me with you. So you¡¯re going to make something out of her mess.¡±

    Tullund opened his mouth, then shut it. ¡°Yes, General.¡± He said. Nenhal looked at him, then at Taradira.

    ¡°Nenhal, this is Lieutenant Tullund. He was a friend of Ferene¡¯s. He is going to take your and your people and introduce you to some humans who can teach you how to fight. Get along with them, and do what he says.¡±

    ¡°How have you ended up with so many women around you?¡±

    After bringing the Hatharen to his section of the camp and introducing them to Rella and her mercenaries, Tullund found himself subject to Lily¡¯s disapproval. As soon as he showed up, Nenhal standing beside him, she glared daggers at him. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for it.¡±

    ¡°The orange haired girl, General Taradira herself, Rella, and now a second giant woman. You wanted none of this?¡±

    ¡°You know that none of them are interested in me.¡±

    ¡°Are you interested in any of them?¡±

    ¡°I offered Ferene¡­something. I asked her to join in me getting away from the life of killing. She turned me down. Harshly. It wasn¡¯t supposed to be intimate, but she took it that way.¡± Raising an eyebrow, Lily offered him a chance to elaborate, but he didn¡¯t. ¡°The only woman I asked to have around me is you, and I regret that decision every day.¡±

    ¡°I could make having me around more worth it.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Tullund spent the rest of that night sorting out logistics between the two groups. With nearly fifty people occupying camp section two three six, the plot looked mostly populated. With the area designed for a hundred soldiers, Rella¡¯s group only took up a small portion. When the mercenaries saw the Hatharen stake out one small corner, they started to spread out more, while still leaving room for their new comrades to do the same. The newcomers received tents, cookware, and other supplies for free, which thankfully the mercenaries didn¡¯t seem to care about. In fact, one of the men ended up eagerly helping the Hatharen with some of their new tools.

    After making sure that both groups were getting along well enough, and everyone knew what to do in case of any disagreements, Tullund retreated for the day.

    ¡°You look stressed.¡± Lily said as he sat down on his cot in their tent.

    Letting out a sigh, Tullund rubbed his face. ¡°I am stressed. I did not think that joining the army would end up with me being in charge of mercenaries, much less whatever the Hatharen are.¡±

    ¡°You took a test to become an officer. That means command.¡±

    ¡°I thought I would be in charge of¡­soldiers. Not even good soldiers. I figured I¡¯d get stuck with a bunch of idiot farmers or something. People I could understand, to some degree. I¡¯m a wilderness criminal turned farmer turned soldier. The mercenaries have more experience than I do, and I have no idea what the Hatharen are thinking at any time. Just because I spent a few days traveling with Ferene I¡¯m supposed to know how to deal with them.¡±

    ¡°That is a lot to deal with. Would you like a massage?¡±

    Lily stood over him, smiling.

    ¡°I do, but I worry about accepting one from you.¡±

    She sat down next to him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him away from her. ¡°I¡¯m going to give you one anyway, since you didn¡¯t say no.¡± He felt her hands on his lower back, pushing lightly with each fingertip just beside his spine, moving upwards. ¡°I know how to do this, you can trust me.¡±

    Closing his eyes, Tullund let her work. His wife had done this for him, long ago. He tried not to think about that.

    ¡°You have a good back.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Her comment took him by surprise.

    ¡°Nice muscles. Your arms, too.¡± She moved one hand to his bicep. ¡°You know girls like this kind of thing. That¡¯s why you¡¯re surrounded by so many.¡±

    ¡°I told you, they really aren¡¯t interested in me like that.¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± She whispered, her breath in his ear. Tullund shuddered. ¡°I can do so much more than this to help you with your stress.¡±

    ¡°You said I could trust you.¡±

    ¡°I want you to.¡± She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his back. ¡°I want you to relax around me, trust me to take care of all of your needs. Someone like you must have them.¡±

    ¡°Please stop.¡± He said, weakly.

    ¡°Why?¡± Her voice sounded even closer than before. Tullund could feel her leaning on him.

    ¡°I told you that a woman in my past manipulated me. Don¡¯t do the same.¡±

    She pulled away, her weight on him vanishing before her arms released him. ¡°Are you scared of me?¡±

    Tullund flinched. He had hoped she wouldn¡¯t notice. ¡°I see how you act, how quick you switch from one face to another. I can¡¯t know which one is the real one. I don¡¯t know who you are, but I know what you¡¯ve done. I can¡¯t trust you.¡±

    Walking across the tent, Lily sat down in her own cot. ¡°You think I want to make you my toy. I don¡¯t want that. I told you, I want to make you my protector.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m your employer. I will look out for you with just that. You don¡¯t need to do anything else.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°We¡¯re both scared of what the other might do. Good night, Tullund.¡± Rolling over, she faced away from him. He stared at her for a moment, wondering how he had ended up in this situation.

 Chapter 9, Book 2: Squalls and Storms, Part 1

    ¡°I heard you lost.¡±

    Linara smiled. ¡°I did. I was too emotional, overconfident, and I lost for it.¡±

    ¡°Most losers aren¡¯t as happy as you appear to be.¡± Senral said, leaning back in his chair.

    Linara looked over his shoulder, out the window. Ferene - and Cerise - left early in the morning, and were on their way south now. ¡°Winning all the time isn¡¯t good for anyone. It¡¯s good to be beaten every now and then. Reminds us that we have more to learn. Room to grow.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯m glad she beat you.¡± The king said. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you smile like that in a long time. Reminds me of years past.¡±

    ¡°I want to talk about that. Years past. And the things I¡¯m doing now.¡± Linara sat down in the chair opposite his. Papers were stacked on his desk, but he was taking a break to talk to her. ¡°Specifically about our relationship.¡±

    ¡°What about it?¡±

    ¡°The fight started when Cerise¡­said some words to me. I reacted very poorly.¡± Linara¡¯s smile faltered at her understatement. ¡°You need to be loyal to your wife. Your queen.¡±

    Senral let out a sound, almost like a growl. ¡°This again?¡± He asked, ¡°I figured from your actions since getting back that you had a change of heart.¡±

    ¡°I thought I did, too.¡± She agreed, taking a deep breath, thinking over her next words carefully. ¡°I ran away before because I didn¡¯t want to see you with someone else. I was jealous. I came back because I simply wanted you, even if it meant sharing you with her. That was wrong of me. I put my own desires over what is right. What I feel is right.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to leave again?¡± She could see the sadness in his eyes.

    Linara shook her head. ¡°No. I will stay here for a year, maybe longer. I will be here as your friend, but no more than that. I will learn to accept that, rather than throwing a tantrum over things not working out the way I want them to.¡±

    Senral pouted. ¡°So you¡¯re breaking up with me for a second time.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re married, you idiot. You have two children with her. Don¡¯t neglect her after everything she has done for you.¡±

    ¡°Is this the part where you tell me how amazing her breasts are?¡±

    That brought a smile back to Linara¡¯s lips. ¡°I don¡¯t remember ever saying anything about them being amazing.¡± She leaned forward, keeping her eyes on his. ¡°I simply pointed out their size. So you think they are amazing?¡±

    He did not blush or look away. ¡°That is none of your concern.¡± He told her, his voice level.

    ¡°Fair enough.¡± She replied. ¡°I also came to a decision regarding the other matter.¡±

    ¡°Other matter?¡± He echoed.

    ¡°Your third child. The one¡­offered to me.¡± His face fell. She could see the guilt. The regret about the situation. ¡°I¡¯ll do it. I¡¯ll raise the baby. Your baby.¡±

    ¡°I have some¡­questions about that. Atheyara herself did not know the answers.¡± His gaze drifted away, before glancing back to her. She nodded, urging him to continue. ¡°You do not look a day older than when you left three years ago. Atheyara tells me she is several hundred years old, yet she looks no older than you are. The child will also be like this?¡±

    ¡°Like me, your child will grow normally until adulthood, and then stop. They will heal from injuries faster and survive things that would kill a human.¡± She patted her side. The pressure hurt, but only mildly.

    ¡°And¡­if the child is male, he would also be unable to have children of his own?¡± Linara nodded. ¡°Then there is a condition.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± She asked.

    He sighed, then looked her in the eye again. ¡°You cannot tell the child about me. About being royalty. You cannot tell anyone about it. At all.¡± Linara frowned, and he explained further. ¡°If someone knows, then the child would be a political tool. It cannot be known that I have a son or daughter that is outside of my influence. Not that I don¡¯t trust you to keep them safe, but I do not want to make life any more difficult than it has to be.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Linara said. It made sense. She¡¯d have to lie to the child at some point. At least she¡¯d have plenty of time to come up with something to say. ¡°How many people here know?¡±

    ¡°You, me, and a few very special servants that are attending to Atheyara. Not even Rilren knows about it, as much as it pains me to keep it from him. It will stay that way, however.¡±

    ¡°I see."

    A silence fell over the room, with Senral returning to his work.

    ¡°It came as a surprise, hearing you request a private meeting with me. I hope you are not here to gloat.¡± Yenra did not rise from her chair as Linara entered the queen¡¯s study.

    Bookshelves lined two of the walls, windows and tapestries covered a third, and the final wall was, oddly, bare. Yenra lounged on a sofa, a book laying open on an angled stand in front of her. ¡°The opposite. I came to apologize.¡±

    This caused the queen to turn her head, looking at Linara. She didn¡¯t say anything, so Linara continued. ¡°I am no longer involved with the king in any way beyond a friendship.¡±

    ¡°Remember our first conversation, alone together? When you were in service to the prince and not a guest, and I was still young and arrogant?¡±

    Linara thought back. ¡°Vaguely.¡±

    ¡°I hated you, then, Linara. I saw you as an obstacle. I see now that you are important to the king. To my husband. When you left, he lost a friend.¡±

    ¡°I am not leaving this time. Not yet. As you say, I am a guest, and I will eventually return to my own life. When I do leave, it will not be as sudden as the last time.¡±

    ¡°Come here, Linara.¡± Curious, Linara approached Yenra¡¯s seat, kneeling down as the shorter woman made a gesture for her to do so. Upon closer inspection, she saw the queen disheveled. Her hair was still in the same style as she usually wore it, but tied loosely. Her eyes were slightly red, and Linara could smell the wine on her breath. ¡°My baby sister has grown up and gone off to lead troops into battle, and my husband has been spending his nights with another woman. And here you are, apologizing? Why? I have nothing and you have everything. You won.¡±

    ¡°I lost.¡± Linara said, watching as the queen stared at her in confusion. ¡°Your sister beat me. You should be proud of her.¡±

    Yenra stared at Linara for a moment, then sighed. ¡°Get out.¡±

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°A horse.¡±

    Ferene couldn¡¯t think of a good way to respond to that. ¡°Yes.¡± She said. Cerise was holding the reins to the horse that stood - or rather, towered - beside her. A castle servant had called Ferene down to the courtyard, where she found the princess and the animal waiting for her. The horse¡¯s fur was mostly gray with a sprinkling of black, with a white spot on its face starting between the eyes and ending halfway towards its nose.

    ¡°I am giving you riding lessons, Ren. I can¡¯t be the only one making use of this time.¡±

    The two of them were waiting in Wellent for both the forces from Olentor to arrive and Wellent¡¯s own army to gather. The previous day, they arrived and Cerise immediately handed over a letter explaining everything and her father called a meeting. Cerise spent the rest of the day gathering up reading materials to study military theory. Even though a captain from Wellent would be leading the force, Cerise took her role as the overseer seriously.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Ferene said, still unsure how to respond properly. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°So you can ride in and save me from danger, of course. A knight needs to be on horseback for the proper effect.¡± Cerise winked at her. ¡°This is Riverbank. He is from Olentor, but isn¡¯t one of their royal stock. He¡¯s smarter than most horses from Wellent, and gentle. Come over here and take this.¡± Ferene followed the instructions, approaching the Princess and taking the apple she held out. The horse¡¯s head moved to follow the fruit as it passed from one woman to the other. ¡°Now, hold it out for him. Palm flat so he can take it without biting your fingers.¡±

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    Upon Ferene doing so, the horse reached forward and the fruit quickly vanished into his lips. He extended his neck again, sniffing at Ferene¡¯s hand.

    ¡°See, he likes you. You and anyone else who brings him food. Now, I¡¯m going to leave him with you, and get back to my own studies. The stablemaster will be teaching you. Largo, I am entrusting Ferene to you.¡±

    Ferene followed Cerise¡¯s gaze to a man leaning against a wall. He stood and slowly walked over. Ferene watched him closely. He seemed completely nonthreatening, slightly limping, a bit shorter than Ferene herself, and covered in a thin layer of dirt that matched the color of his hair. Upon reaching the two women, he took the reins from Cerise and she waved goodbye to Ferene before casually walking away, not looking back.

    ¡°Do you know anything about horses?¡± Largo asked, looking at the animal instead of Ferene. He pulled an apple out of his pocket and fed it to Riverbank, who snatched it up just as quickly as he had the one Ferene offered.

    ¡°They are expensive.¡±

    He sighed, but nodded. ¡°They are. So you¡¯re going to be careful with this one, then?¡± He spoke slowly, rubbing the animal¡¯s face.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good. First thing you need to know is that the horse needs to know you are there. Don¡¯t startle him, don¡¯t stand behind him where he can¡¯t see you without letting him know you are there. Warhorses are different but this isn¡¯t a warhorse. He¡¯s a riding horse. A good one, at that, so you¡¯ll start with the basics. Princess says you only have a few days but I can get you riding in that time. Not well, but riding. As long as you don¡¯t do anything stupid to my horses.¡±

    Largo¡¯s teaching was slow but thorough, most of the time focusing on the animal rather than Ferene. The first day he simply had her interact with Riverbank without ever doing any riding. She learned to feed him, how to lead him around the stables, and how to talk to him. Ferene found the last one an odd mix of ease and frustration. Riverbank responded best to simple commands, which Ferene was glad for, but Largo also told her that the horse liked the sound of people¡¯s voices, and that keeping up a conversation with him was important. Ferene didn¡¯t know how to converse with people, let alone animals. Riverbank couldn¡¯t even speak back.

    When she expressed this to Largo, he simply disagreed with her. ¡°He doesn¡¯t speak but he¡¯s got a lot to say. Look at his ears. His tail. The way he holds his head. His eyes, nose, and mouth. Even his legs and the way he stands. Surely you¡¯ve talked with someone that can¡¯t talk back before, right?¡±

    Ferene nodded in understanding. Despite not looking at her, Largo must have seen the motion, because he smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s undress him and put him back. Tomorrow we¡¯ll see if he¡¯ll let you ride him.¡±

    After the two released Riverbank back to his pasture, Ferene was intercepted before she could enter the castle, a servant directing her to the baths and informing her that she was not to appear before the princess looking and smelling the way she did. Cerise had seen her covered in blood, but the servant didn¡¯t care about that. Shrugging, Ferene did as instructed. She was covered in a lot of dirt and smelled vaguely of horse.

    She found Cerise in the princess¡¯s room, sitting cross-legged in her bed surrounded by books. Upon hearing her enter, the princess looked up, smiling at Ferene. ¡°Did you have fun, Ren?¡±

    ¡°I learned about horses.¡±

    ¡°And I learned about war. A lot about formations. There is so much to read. I feel like my eyes are bleeding. These books are informative but they aren¡¯t exciting.¡± She put down the one she was holding. ¡°What is your favorite book?¡±

    Ferene opened her mouth to say that she didn¡¯t know any books, but stopped. ¡°The Crow and the Rabbit.¡± She said. Cerise stared at her, blinking once. Ferene wasn¡¯t sure what to make of the expression.

    ¡°The children¡¯s story?¡±

    ¡°A child read it to me. It¡¯s the only book I know.¡±

    ¡°What did you like about it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know any other books.¡±

    Cerise chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll have to read you a book some time. Not now. Too many books. My sister could read this much, if she wanted to. She loves reading and used to read to me.¡±

    ¡°Can you read me a book about Resh?¡±

    Once again, Cerise gave her that strange look. ¡°I can probably find one. What is your interest in Resh?¡±

    Ferene would have reached for her sword, but she didn¡¯t have it. It was in her room, which was attached to the princess¡¯s room. ¡°The man who gave me my sword said he was the last of the knights of Resh. Someone else I met said it looks like a sword that was used by those knights, long ago.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were already a knight.¡±

    Ferene shook her head. ¡°He only gave me the sword. He didn¡¯t tell me anything about the knights. I can¡¯t be one of them.¡±

    Nodding, Cerise stretched. ¡°Up for a walk? I need to do something that isn¡¯t sitting here.¡±

    ¡°People are going to die. I¡¯m going to watch people die.¡±

    Ferene stayed silent, watching Cerise as she sat down on a bench, leaning forward and looking out at the city below. Wellent¡¯s people built their castle into the side of a mountain, with the city on the plain below it. To reach the castle, one had to follow the road as it went back and forth up the side of the mountain. Ferene felt it was almost Hatharen in design. The entire population of Yonthal could live within the castle¡¯s walls, in far greater comfort than the caves carved out of the fissure.

    ¡°I know you killed those men in front of me before, but¡­they were right there, threatening me. Attacking me. I¡¯ll be far away this time, watching. Just watching. If the south does invade, there will be a lot more death.¡±

    ¡°Why is everyone convinced the south will attack?¡± Ferene asked. The question had bothered her for some time, but she hadn¡¯t asked about it. Not until now.

    ¡°Ettsgras and Celngi are large nations. The only thing that threatens either is the other one. If the two were to clash, which seems likely, the winner would absorb what is left of the other, and there would be nobody left that could stand up to them. Nothing to stop them from conquering everything north, all the way to the mountains. What ruler wouldn¡¯t want to put everything under their control?¡±

    Ferene hadn¡¯t thought of it that way. The people she met in Ettsgras had only spoken of Celngi, not the rest of the region. ¡°If you had an army big enough, would you conquer the south?¡±

    This time, Cerise went silent, not looking at Ferene, but instead keeping her eyes on the city below them. ¡°If the king - King Senral, not my father - were to order it, I would do that. There are better people to do it, but if I had to-¡°

    ¡°Would he?¡± Ferene asked.

    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°I met the general in Ettsgras. I saw the army.¡± The city below them paled in comparison to the sea of tents outside Ettsgras, much less the capital itself. ¡°I don¡¯t think they would come here. They could.¡±

    ¡°Did you meet the king?¡± Ferene went silent at this, shaking her head. Cerise still didn¡¯t look at her, but took her silence as an answer. ¡°If the king says to march, a general will march. Unless you know what the king wants, knowing the general is useless.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Cerise rose to her feet, looking up at Ferene. Taking a few steps to close the distance, the short girl leaned against her knight. ¡°I know I said I¡¯d do this, but the more I think about it, the more I learn, the less I want to. We have to deal with these¡­.these criminals, I know that, but the idea of fighting a war scares me. My people dying to protect their land. To protect me and my father. I want there to be another way.¡±

    ¡°Could you talk to the king of Ettsgras?¡±

    ¡°I could, but they might lose. If Celgni wins and they saw us talk with Ettsgras, it would make them more likely to attack us, as punishment for working with their enemy. If we go to Celgni and Ettsgas wins the same is true. If we go to both, we risk offending both. Being seen trying to play on both sides makes us look both weak and manipulative. Getting involved in any way is a risk we can¡¯t take.¡± She wrapped her arms around Ferene¡¯s ribs, squeezing her lightly. ¡°I wish I was big and strong like you. I¡¯d be able to fight for myself.¡±

    Ferene thought back to her fight against the former Olentor soldiers, all those months ago. ¡°I¡¯m not an army.¡±

    ¡°You can be part of one, Ren. I¡¯m a delicate princess that can¡¯t fight at all. I have to stay back and watch because I¡¯m a liability otherwise. All the studying in the world won¡¯t change that. I¡¯m short and weak, you¡¯re big and strong.¡± Cerise gave Ferene another squeeze, then let go, pulling away from her and sitting on the waist-high wall opposite the bench, staring not downward, but outward, at the countryside beyond the city. ¡°After the fighting, you¡¯re going to leave.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question.

    Stepping to Cerise¡¯s side, Ferene joined her in looking at the landscape. As the sun set to the west, the plains to the south were bathed in red. ¡°I¡¯ll go south. Back to Ettsgras.¡±

    ¡°What is there?¡±

    ¡°The general is a Hatharen. Her name is Taradira. Taradira Suladan. She will know what to do.¡±

    Cerise was silent in thought for a time. ¡°You¡¯re right. Ettsgras is not our enemy. Not yet. Wellent can¡¯t help but fear a larger nation, but you aren¡¯t part of Wellent, despite all my attempts to keep you here. You don¡¯t have to fear them the same way.¡±

    The worries of a nation were beyond Ferene, but she understood the weak fearing the strong. She had lived on both sides of that. As much as she never wanted to go back to living in fear of others, she knew that not everyone was able to make that choice. Cerise would never be as strong as she was, and Wellent would never have an army like Ettsgras. This place wasn¡¯t for her. She would never get used to sleeping in feather beds covered in silk sheets. When was the last time she slept in a pile of hay in a barn loft, or just sitting with her back against a tree? Her new clothes and fancy cloak were one thing, but the lifestyle was something else. She couldn¡¯t feel right here, she couldn¡¯t blend in the way Linara did.

    ¡°I¡¯ll come back to visit.¡± She wasn¡¯t being banished. She would never be allowed to return to Yonthal, but she could return to Wellent. In all her travels, she rarely visited the same place twice, but she never had a reason to go back somewhere before. She wanted to go back to Ettsgras to see Taradira again, but Velan would be there as well. She wondered if he had become a royal scholar like he wanted. Tullund would be there with Taradira. She could come back here and see Cerise. Somewhere out there, to the south, was Lana and her group of bounty hunters, and in a small town called Riverhill, her father was probably single-mindedly working on something that Ferene would never understand. ¡°I¡¯ve never had a place to come back to before.¡±

    Cerise turned to look up at her, eyes wide. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°I never thought about it before now. There¡¯s so many places I can go back to, people I can see again.¡±

    ¡°What did you do before?¡±

    ¡°I killed people and moved on. I didn¡¯t make friends.¡±

    She could see the sadness spread across Cerise¡¯s face. ¡°You can always come back here, Ferene. I¡¯ll make a royal order, get it put in writing. There will always be a place here for you. I promise you that.¡±

 Chapter 9, Book 2: Squalls and Storms, Part 2

    ¡°Ren! Ren!¡±

    Ferene turned her head, looking down, down, to see Cerise running towards her.

    ¡°You look good up here.¡± The princess commented, grinning up at Ferene on top of Riverbank.

    The second day of her training, the stablemaster allowed Ferene to ride the horse, teaching her basics. Now, four days after that, she felt mostly comfortable mounted, if she still had a sense of not belonging. Despite the praise from the princess, Ferene was sure she looked out of place. Someone of her background had no place riding such an animal.

    ¡°Did something happen?¡± Ferene asked, bringing the animal to a stop near the princess. When she relaxed her grip on the reins, Riverbank took a few extra steps forward, nuzzling at the shorter woman, who rubbed his snout.

    ¡°Everyone is assembled. We can depart tomorrow. You¡¯ll have to leave this one behind.¡±

    Riverbank snorted and turned away from the princess. Ferene wasn¡¯t sure if he understood what she said or was simply disappointed at not being given any treats. ¡°Are you ready?¡± She asked, pulling the horse to a stop and swinging her leg over, smoothly sliding out of the saddle. Largo had commented that she was good at doing that.

    ¡°No, but I won¡¯t be in charge. This will be a learning experience, with General Deklan letting me observe him.¡±

    ¡°Deklan is Wellent¡¯s general?¡± Cerise nodded at Ferene¡¯s question. This would be the third general she would meet, after Taradira and the old man in Olentor. Ferene wondered what Deklan was like. ¡°How many people?¡±

    ¡°Come with me and I¡¯ll show you.¡± Ferene turned around, looking at Riverbank. Largo had started talking to the horse, bowing to the two women.

    ¡°A hundred and twenty foot soldiers from Olentor, plus thirty cavalry. Add to that two hundred of our own foot soldiers and fifty of our own cavalry. The general had the fort scouted, and thinks there are at most a hundred inside.¡±

    Cerise and Ferene stood on the wall again, like they had several nights ago, but now they both looked at the plains outside the city, where the army stood. While it was nothing compared to the tent city that stood beside Ettsgras, the collection of men and horses that waited outside of Wellent dwarfed the force of Hatharen Ferene had marched with in the north. Once again she felt a sense of being outside of her element. She would join these men in assaulting a fortress.

    ¡°Is there a plan? What should I do?¡±

    ¡°Deklan has the battle plan. It is very simple. Numbers and intimidation. Showing a force stronger than theirs, and more prepared, should force a quick surrender. If not, the small number of defenders will make a short siege easy. They are not prepared to defend against an attack of this scale and so won¡¯t have proper countermeasures to stop our forces from pushing to the wall and scaling it. If they try to run, our cavalry should be able to deal with them.¡±

    Ferene could only nod. Was that correct? She didn¡¯t know. ¡°And me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re free to do whatever you wish. General Deklan is confident in winning through simple numerical advantage. What do you think would be best for you to do?¡±

    Her only other experience that could come close to this was north of the mountains, waiting on the outskirts of a battle to pick off groups that tried to escape. If cavalry were assigned that role, she would have to find something else to do. ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out when I see it.¡±

    The combined Wellent and Olentor soldiers marched south later that day. Ferene kept close to Cerise, who stayed close to General Deklan and the three captains - two from Wellent, one from Olentor. Deklan himself turned out to be far more impressive than his counterpart in Olentor - slightly taller than Ferene, with a long mane of dark hair reaching past his shoulders. He wore a sword on his belt and looked like he knew how to use it, if he needed to.

    Rather than traveling in the extravagant wagon she had used to get to and from Olentor, Cerise rode on a horse, just like the general and the captains. Ferene chose to walk, declining the offer of borrowing a horse. She told them she couldn¡¯t fight from horseback. While she wasn¡¯t far from Cerise during the journey, the princess ended up talking with the general, who rode beside her. Ferene wasn¡¯t sure what they were discussing, but she could only assume it was a continuation of the young lady¡¯s studies.

    This group was at the center of the long column of the procession. Wellent¡¯s cavalry rode at the front, followed by Wellent¡¯s foot soldiers, then Ferene, Cerise, General Deklan, and the three captains. After them came Olentor¡¯s foot soldiers, followed by Olentor¡¯s small group of cavalry. The two groups of soldiers each had a number of wagons in their midst, carrying supplies. Ferene found it mesmerizing, seeing so many people all moving in the same direction. She tried to imagine what it would be like to see the entirety of Taradira¡¯s army at Ettsgras do the same, but couldn¡¯t visualize it.

    When they arrived in the city near the border, the entire group stopped. Deklan met with a scout for what was the final update on the situation.

    ¡°We are splitting our force into three parts here. The Olentor cavalry will go forward and set up a loose perimeter around the fort. While the structure itself is our main goal, we must also punish the current occupants. It will take long enough for our full force to march on their position that they could flee. After Olentor¡¯s cavalry, Wellent¡¯s own will follow, revealing themselves. While they have no chance of taking the fort, the situation is reversed for a fight in the open. With them pinned down, the main force can approach and take the fort.¡±

    ¡°What kind of fort is it?¡± Ferene asked. All of them turned to look at her. Cerise was the one that spoke first.

    ¡°There¡¯s a five-sided stone wall, with towers on each corner. Any structures inside are smaller than the wall itself.¡±

    Ferene nodded. Despite knowing that these were former soldiers who turned to a life of crime, she still envisioned something like the abandoned village, or a series of caves. More usual hideouts. The general¡¯s plan involved men scaling the wall as a large group, numbers allowing them to protect the climbers and then overwhelm the defenders. They were relying on the enemy not having proper numbers or equipment to defend themselves from the assault. Ferene¡¯s own knowledge told her this was correct - a group doing what these were would never think to have to deal with a threat like an army attacking them.

    The entire company set up camp outside the city. Cerise explained to Ferene that it would look like a simple movement of forces to the southern border as a defensive action, so that until they left the city the next morning, there was no reason for the outlaws to think themselves the target.

    After days of marching, they finally arrived at their destination. The walls of the fort loomed tall on the horizon for hours. The structure¡¯s height rivaled the proper castles of Wellent and Olentor, but lacked the area of those two. A small town could probably fit inside it.

    As they approached, they met up with the man leading the cavalry, who reported that they had seen activity on the walls but none of the occupants had made attempts to flee. The mass of soldiers spread out, taking up position across two of the five walls, pulling supplies out of the wagons and setting up ladders.

    Deklan claimed a small knoll on the northeast as his command post, within sight of the fort but far from danger. Cerise and one of his captains joined him there, the other two joining the forces readying their assault on the wall. Five soldiers stood guard around the general, with horses nearby, ready to run orders if the need arose. He confidently claimed it wouldn¡¯t be needed. Cerise¡¯s own guards also waited nearby - Illrich had quietly followed Cerise on the trip south, mostly staying out of her way and watching from a distance, letting Ferene stand behind the princess.

    Looking out over the open field in front of her, Ferene took stock of the situation on her own. The grass was overgrown, coming up past the mens knee¡¯s, and in some places even to their waists. There was a path leading from the main gate on the eastern wall, but Deklan¡¯s men were preparing to assault the two northern walls. The gate drew her attention - she wanted to take a closer look at it, but avoided approaching the fort. She could approach it during the assault, when the defenders were busy with the army.

    ¡°Princess, are you sure you wish to stay here?¡± Illrich asked.

    ¡°I will watch this be carried out. It all started because of me, and I have a duty to see it through to the end.¡±

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Very well, your highness.¡±

    Taking her sword off her back, Ferene placed it on the ground in front of her. Drawing her short sword from her belt, she placed it below the first. Her clothes were new, and even her armor was more polished, but her weapons still carried the wear of all their use. Her sword was sharp, despite the various scratches on the flat of it. The man who gave it to her told that if she used it wrong, she would be haunted by the dead people watching the blade. Relgren told her the truth, about the Knights of Resh and what they did. Using it to take back one of the things made by those knights felt right, in a way. While the dead former owners of the sword would never know she was doing it, part of her wanted to think this was what they would want her to do.

    With a deep breath, she collected both weapons, returning them to their places.

    The assault started quietly. With the cavalry waiting in the back, out of the way but ready to attack if needed, the soldiers advanced. Holding shields upwards, squads slowly crept forward holding ladders. The protection seemed unnecessary - whatever defenders may have waited on top of the wall did not launch any projectiles downward to stop the threat. If they had, a much larger group of soldiers waited to return fire. Ferene watched this, and ran towards the gate, moving far faster than the organized, cautious push of the humans.

    Two large wooden doors blocked the entryway to the fort, one of them tilted, the base sunken into the ground below. The other stood upright, but no handle was present on it. Throwing her weight against it, Ferene felt it give ever so slightly.

    Looking northward, Ferene saw the soldiers drawing closer, more than halfway to the walls now, still with no response from within. Looking at the gates, Ferene examined the gap made by the state of disrepair, spotting a bar spanning the two doors. Taking her short sword, she pushed the tip against the bar and wiggled it, feeling it slide to one side slightly more than the other. Slowly, with the small space available to her, a gap the width of two fingers, she started moving the drawbar aside.

    Her actions did not draw any response from the other side. To her side, she saw the men finally reach the wall, swinging their ladders upwards. As the men started climbing, she looked past them, towards the hill where Cerise and Deklan watched over the would-be battle.

    The oddity of the lack of response finally made sense. The fort had been taken by former soldiers, so the assault was being treated like a military action. Soldiers would have tried to surrender, or fought out of a sense of duty. Ferene turned, looking towards the back of the formation along the northwest wall, spotting the captain in charge. She started running towards him.

    If you cornered a criminal, they would act out of spite. If they knew they had no chance of living, they would strike out in desperation, trying to hurt you in any way they could, either with words or with actions. They didn¡¯t fight for a country or a leader, they weren¡¯t defending people with their lives. They would not draw out a prolonged fight. They did what they did because they did not value life. The people that had attempted to kidnap Cerise, the people that were extorting villages in the area - they were no longer soldiers. They were just well trained criminals. Which made them possibly more dangerous. They would strike out in anger, but with precision, to spite anyone who dared to cross them.

    As she ran, she saw movement at the hill. Any hideout needed a second exit. The hill stood out as the only thing in the field surrounding the fort.

    The handful of soldiers and small number of Cerise¡¯s royal guards stood no chance. Ferene watched, her feet slamming into the ground as she ran as fast as she could. The fighting did not last long - she saw the figures suddenly appear on top of the hill, overwhelming the group that was unprepared for any fighting.

    She arrived beside the captain, and next to him stood a horse, a woman in a dark red uniform mounted on it. ¡°Give me your horse, now.¡± She demanded, pointing at the hill. ¡°I need to get there.

    ¡°Do what she says.¡± The captain said, turning towards his men and shouting at them. The rider dismounted, and Ferene vaulted onto the steed, grabbing the reins and pressing her heels into the animal¡¯s sides, making a dash for the hill.

    Ferene specialized in running. Something about her physique made her better at running, and running always felt natural to her. Luck gave her this unique advantage.

    The horse, however, was the result of generations of breeding for speed and power. Linara had talked about how valuable one of these horses were, but Ferene hadn¡¯t seen them move at full speed before. Now, she felt it, the power of the animal underneath her as it flew through the tall grass.

    By the time she crested the hill, the fighting had transformed. She wasn¡¯t the only one to notice the fighting on the hill, and Wellent¡¯s own cavalry had reacted as well, breaking from their perimeter positions to converge on the hill. The men from the fort had started a retreating fight against them, but it wasn¡¯t going well. Ferene ignored that, dismounting and looking around the carnage.

    Cerise was not hard to find. She lay face-down on the ground, a sword, with a disembodied hand still holding it, sticking out of her back. Coming to a stop, Ferene stared at the sight, her heart pounding. In that moment, time seemed to stop. Her mouth was dry. Cerise was dead. Deklan lay not too far away. Illrich was also there, his body fallen on top of one of the people from the fort.

    Anger surged in her, greater than anything she had felt in a very long time. Turning, she looked across the real battlefield, opposite the fort itself. The mounted troops were outnumbered, but still holding their own, with more arriving. The idea that just the cavalry would be enough to fight the fort¡¯s defenders on an open field was holding up. Beyond the fighting, further north, Ferene saw several riders going away from the fighting, rather than towards it. Throwing herself back onto her borrowed horse, Ferene once again urged it onwards, her eyes locked on those figures.

    The difference in speed was staggering. Even taking a path around the ongoing fighting, Ferene¡¯s mount quickly closed the gap between itself and the fleeing riders. Holding the reins in one hand, she drew her short sword. She did not know how to fight from horseback, but that didn¡¯t matter to her. Her eyes locked on the back of the nearest criminal, her sword held horizontally, point aimed forward. Her horse did not slow down, and with an extra thrust, the weapon slammed into the man¡¯s back, piercing his torso, and being pulled out of Ferene¡¯s hand as she overtook him. Ferene growled to herself, turning her horse¡¯s head towards the next target. Letting go of the reins, she squeezed her knees around the sides of her horse, hoping she¡¯d stay on, and awkwardly drew the sword from her back.

    As she overtook the second rider, she swung her sword, rather than stabbing, leaving a deep cut across the man¡¯s back. She did not look back. The noise seemed to finally draw the attention of the third man, who looked back and saw Ferene. He shouted something to the others, who also looked back. One by one, they pulled back on their horses, slowing down and spreading out. Ferene, holding her oversized sword to the side in one hand, grabbed the reins to do the same.

    Rage filled her, but part of her told her this was a fight she could not win. She did not know how to fight from horseback, and dismounting would only allow them to kill her horse and flee. They didn¡¯t know that she lacked the knowledge needed to fight them, so she waited, glaring.

    Moments past, the six waiting for Ferene to make a move, all of them cautious about approaching. Then, one laughed, taking a bow off her back. Ferene kicked her horse, charging the woman. Her mount reacted quickly, surging forward. With a one handed swing, Ferene brought her sword down on the woman¡¯s head. Her target leaned to the side at the last second, but the weapon still buried itself in her shoulder, pulling her off her horse as Ferene passed. The other five were slower to react, all of them rushing after Ferene as she yanked her sword free. A man wielding a half-spear got to her first, thrusting his weapon forward and stabbing Ferene in the rib cage, her one-handed grip on her sword leaving her unable to intercept the attack in time.

    Shouting in pain, she dropped her sword, grabbing the weapon as the man pulled it out of her. Ferene yanked, hard, and the man tipped forward, releasing before he was pulled off his mount. Ferene flipped the spear around in her hand and shoved the point back at the former owner as he was still righting himself.

    The remaining four were on her, then, one swinging an axe at her. Ferene twisted, bringing her new weapon up to intercept the attack. As the axe made contact with the haft of the spear, it sunk into the wood. A heartbeat later she was struck in the chest with a club, knocking the breath from her lungs and her from her saddle. She hit the ground rolling, trying to breathe as she came to her feet just in time to see her now-riderless horse rear up, striking the attacker¡¯s horse with its hooves. Ferene heard a crack as the other animal fell to the ground, sending the rider that struck her flying.

    Looking at the three remaining foes, Ferene stood up, weaponless, having dropped the spear when she was struck. As she stared at the three of them, the sound of beating hooves filled the air. All of the combatants turned, seeing ten riders, fully armored, charging at them. With a shout, the three that were still mounted turned and fled, and Ferene drew her knife from her boot, looking to the downed rider. The man was pushing himself to his feet, drawing a sword of his own. Ferene dashed forward, sidestepping his sluggish lunge at her, and stabbed her knife into his eye.

    The cavalry rushed past her, pursuing the last few fleeing fort defenders. Ferene took a deep breath, and collected her sword from where it fell. With the familiar weight once again on her back, she returned to her horse and walked with the animal over to retrieve her other weapon, before mounting the animal and riding back towards the hill in the distance.

    ¡°Completely hidden before.¡± The captain - Renate - said, looking at the large hole in the side of the hill. ¡°Impossible to see from the outside.¡± The tunnel was more than large enough to allow two horses to walk side by side, and lead all the way to the inside of the fort. Bits of dirt and grass lay around the entrance, along with a metal framework. ¡°I think the people who built the fort made the hill to hide the exit. Every time they used it they¡¯d have to plant the grass again and wait months before it looked natural. A lot of work for a path that can only be used to leave.¡±

    The other standing captain nodded. The two that were overseeing the attack directly had gotten by unscathed. The last captain, who was with Deklan and Cerise, had survived, barely. He sat on a stool retrieved from one of the wagons, shirtless with bandages wrapped around his torso. The ambushers from the fort had left him for dead. One of Cerise¡¯s guards also managed to survive, but was in no condition to speak. The rest of the group had not been so lucky. The bandits had even killed the horses.

    ¡°We secured the fort and eliminated all the defenders.¡± A lieutenant said.

    ¡°That won¡¯t matter when we return to Wellent to say that the princess and the general are both dead.¡± Renate snapped. He seemed to have taken command. Turning to the other captain, he started issuing orders. ¡°Gather up the forces from Olentor and half of our own. I¡¯ll go back and make the report. You¡¯re in command of the fort. We still have to prepare it for our own use.¡±

    The other man turned and stepped away, consulting one of the red-clad horsemen. Renate turned to her. ¡°You were the princess¡¯s pet?¡± Ferene could only nod. She didn¡¯t want to talk. ¡°Since you¡¯re wearing the uniform, you¡¯re now under my command. You¡¯re coming back with us.¡±

 Chapter 10, Book 2: Northern Alliance, Part 1

    ¡°We made sure that none of them escaped.¡±

    ¡°That does not change the fact that my sister is dead, Captain.¡±

    Ferene stood behind Renate as he tried to reason with Yenra. One of the scouts had taken multiple horses to carry the news to Olentor as fast as possible, and it wasn¡¯t long after the main force returned that the queen arrived from the north.

    ¡°And you.¡± Yenra stepped forward, looking up at Ferene. ¡°Were you not supposed to be her bodyguard? Why are you standing here, alive and unharmed, while my sister¡¯s body is rotting in the ground?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t there.¡±

    Yenra slapped her across the face. Ferene could feel the sting and the pain, but it barely registered. ¡°Kneel.¡±

    Ferene responded to the order, getting down on both of her knees. The queen crouched in front of her, whispering in her ear. ¡°She loved you, you know.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Yenra, please. There was a plan and it was being followed. If you are looking for someone to blame, the general is dead.¡±

    Standing up, the queen turned away from Ferene, looking over to Varrot where he sat, leaning forward in his chair. ¡°The general is dead. Five members of the royal guard, tasked to defend the life of our sister, are also dead. Yet here stands our sister¡¯s chosen knight, hand picked by her, gifted the colors of our countrymen by her, unharmed because she was not by her side. Are you not angry?¡±

    ¡°Look at her. She looks dead inside. You don¡¯t need to punish her any more.¡±

    ¡°You may be older than me, but as the queen of two nations, I outranked you now, brother. You don¡¯t get to tell me when someone has been punished enough.¡±

    Ferene heard movement, the shuffling of feet, in response to Yenra¡¯s statement. She stayed kneeling, staring at the ornate tile floor of the defunct throne room. Yenra¡¯s father now held the lord¡¯s seat, which was a different room. Ferene couldn¡¯t bring herself to look up and see what was happening.

    ¡°Very well. I would, however, warn you against-¡°

    ¡°Executing one of the Hatharen? I¡¯m more than aware of their status as our allies. I want to never see this one again. She is not welcome in our territory. She will leave immediately, and if she comes back, I will order her execution. I don¡¯t care where she goes, I simply want her gone.¡±

    ¡°You are a fair and just ruler, sister.¡± Varrot replied, his voice tense. Someone reached down and pulled Ferene upwards. She found herself looking at Renate.

    ¡°Sorry, but I think having you here saved me.¡± He whispered to her. She nodded. She did not know the captain, but Ferene herself deserved this. She had fiddled uselessly with a door. She had no purpose being part of an attack on a wall. She should have stayed with Cerise, instead of wandering off on her own. She should have stayed with Amelia, instead of following Tullund to fix a fence. She should never have let Jall wander the city by himself. Despite everything she learned, everyone who tried to help her, she made the same mistakes again and again. She had earned this punishment.

    Varrot walked over, grabbing her arm. He gave her a look she didn¡¯t understand, then led her out the door, leaving his sister alone to dispense the rest of her judgment.

    ¡°Cerise meant a lot to Yenra.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Ferene said weakly as he guided her down a hall. Her movements felt like someone else was controlling her.

    ¡°My sister would not have wanted you treated this way, regardless of what happened to her. I can¡¯t go against my sister''s orders, but I want you to keep what she gave you. You were her knight, and you did save her once. Keep the uniform. It suits you far better than the rags you came here in.¡±

    Ferene nodded, even though she didn¡¯t want to. She wanted to vanish. She felt purposeless. She had found her father, she had even gone and found Linara again, and thanked her for everything. What was even left? She could not even go back to Yonthal, as much as she missed Rilya. That was another place she was barred from.

    ¡°I¡¯d give you the horse as well, I heard that you got along well with him, but I doubt I could sneak that past my sister, especially if you have to leave immediately.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know how to take care of a horse.¡±

    She saw him nod in response to her reply. Guiding her through the castle¡¯s open gates, he came to a stop. ¡°Take this, at least.¡± He said, handing her a coin. ¡°It¡¯s all I have on me right now. I¡¯ll probably never see you again, but my sister cared about you. She always made good choices, so I will trust her. You must be a good person, regardless of what happened.¡±

    The coin was a large gold circle, taking up half of the surface of her palm, with text inscribed on the surface. She wasn¡¯t sure how much it was worth. Another reminder of how different her life was from Cerise¡¯s, from these people in the castle.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She finally managed to say. Varrot watched her, maybe wanting to hear something else, maybe trying to find something else to say to her. Ferene didn¡¯t know which it was, but she couldn¡¯t think of anything that would make a difference. Turning, she walked away from him, away from Wellent and Olentor.

    To the southwest lay Ettsgras, on the verge of war. That was one place she knew she could visit again.

    ¡°Instead of you waiting around here doing nothing, how does a job sound?¡±

    Rather than answering verbally, Linara just stared at Senral as he leaned casually in the doorway to her chambers. She was sitting at the desk, doing nothing, exactly as accused, and feeling helplessly restless, only a few moments away from heading down to the training arena when the king had barged in, unannounced.

    ¡°I know you don¡¯t officially work for me, but I¡¯m looking for someone to join an expedition that I¡¯m arranging. The group has an open advisory position.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about, Senral?¡±

    Smiling victoriously, the king stepped into her room, grabbing a chair and sitting down in it. ¡°Wellent has expanded their southern border. I want to take some steps to fortify our western border. I believe you were just there, a month or more ago. In Celkeish.¡±

    Nodding, Linara frowned. ¡°I was. What exactly do you have planned?¡±

    ¡°An alliance. Or at least, an agreement. The city guards our border. Ettsgras and Celngi are to the southwest. We have two borders to secure, and Celkeish is important in that. If they come under attack, we should be ready to support them. I want to know what the situation is there, and what my people can do to prepare to assist them. Anything we do to help them will in turn help us, should the worst case scenario happen. Also this kind of action will alleviate the concerns about too many resources being devoted to the south.¡±

    ¡°I was there, and helped a man establish himself as the ruler of the city. You want me there to smooth things over.¡±

    ¡°Something like that.¡± Senral said, waving a hand. He was energetic. Overly so, possibly even more restless than she was.

    It didn¡¯t sit right with Linara. ¡°Where is the queen? Does she know of these plans?¡± The queen had been absent the last few days, but Linara had only heard rumors. Wherever the queen was, it was a closely kept secret, even from her.

    The instant she mentioned Yenra, his face fell. ¡°She left for Wellent several days ago.¡±

    ¡°Why? What happened?¡± Linara rose to her feet. ¡°The mission to take the fort. What happened?¡±

    ¡°Successful, as I said. They have successfully fortified the border.¡± He didn¡¯t even try to hide the anger on his face.

    ¡°What happened there? Is Ferene-¡°

    ¡°Your friend is fine. The same can¡¯t be said of Wellent¡¯s general. Or Princess Cerise.¡±

    Linara froze. The princess, almost a younger copy of the queen. The one who had stood up to Linara when her sister wouldn¡¯t. The one hopelessly fawning over Ferene. ¡°Senral, what happened?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the details, but they are both dead, along with a number of the princess¡¯s royal guards. That¡¯s why I need to do something. I can¡¯t sit here doing nothing. I¡¯m sending people to Celkeish. Will you-¡°

    She wanted to go south, to find Ferene. To learn exactly what happened. Though the girl didn¡¯t feel the same way as the princess felt, Linara could tell that she cared a lot about Cerise. She stopped herself before she began pacing, instead taking a deep breath and sitting back down in her chair. ¡°I¡¯ll go to Celkeish. I left some things there that I should look back into.¡±

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Senral stood up. ¡°Thank you.¡± He said, leaving the room, still full of energy. Linara stayed seated, thoughts flying through her head. She wished that she could just address a regional issue to distract herself.

    The expedition consisted of Vendel, two of the old man¡¯s assistants, a young knight that Rilren picked out, three soldiers, and Linara herself.

    ¡°Seems Senral is making a habit of sending you into the Independent Lands.¡± Linara said as she greeted the treasurer.

    ¡°My responsibilities have expanded, with two nations coming together. As such, I¡¯ve delegated a lot of my work, which left me free time that the king took it upon himself to fill.¡± Vendel smiled as he replied.

    The young knight turned, bowing to Linara. ¡°Lady Linara, Rilren told me a lot about you. It¡¯s an honor to accompany you.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Aldram.¡±

    ¡°Well, Aldram, I hope I can live up to whatever tales you have heard.¡±

    The mood was high as the group gathered. News of exactly what happened on the southern border of Wellent was still a secret. Senral told Linara that the expedition wouldn¡¯t know about it until they got back, to keep people¡¯s minds clear. Only Linara knew, leaving even Vendel outside of the small group of people aware of the death of the queen¡¯s sister.

    Linara and Aldram were given horses, while the other three soldiers were split between Vendel¡¯s carriage and the supply wagon.

    The ride to the border proved uneventful, the group passing through several towns without incident - the locals would come out to look and point, but nothing more. Some even showed hope, more than when she passed through in the opposite direction nearly two months before. It felt like so much more time had passed.

    From a distance, Celkeish looked much as Linara remembered it. Upon reaching the city¡¯s limits, however, she found things very different.

    The guards met them in the open, just outside the city, rather than waiting for her to enter and using the narrower streets to force an interaction. ¡°Linara?¡± One of them asked, looking up at her as she sat on her horse. Linara recognized his face.

    ¡°You¡¯re one of Velent¡¯s men, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The man smiled brightly, standing up straight. The other three guards looked at him oddly. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am! I was in the raid. It¡¯s good to see you again. Are you here to see Lord Felden?¡±

    Aldram nudged his horse forward, sliding in front of Linara. ¡°We are here from Olentor, with a message from King Senral the First, for your Lord Felden.¡± He spoke loudly, without yelling. A proper training field voice. All of the guards looked at him, then at the carriage behind, their eyes going wide.

    ¡°Of course! Right this way.¡±

    As the guards guided them through the city, Linara got a good look at how it had changed since her previous visit. Gone were the patrols of Felden¡¯s men, denizens of Celkeish taking their place. Far more people were outside than she remembered, a lot of them stopping to point and stare at the procession. With the tension from the fighting between the factions gone, and Felden solidly in control, the people moved without fear.

    Linara found herself frowning internally. It was the opposite of Olentor. The people here had little worry about the war in the south and the danger of the victor sweeping northward. If the people did not believe in a threat, would the offer of an alliance be accepted?

    ¡°Linara!¡± Someone yelled as they finally reached Felden¡¯s mansion. Sal rushed over, a wide smile on the girl¡¯s face. ¡°You¡¯re back! You didn¡¯t say you would come back. What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°She is acting as a diplomatic adviser to Olentor.¡± Aldram said, speaking up. Sal looked over to him and bowed. ¡°We seek an audience with your Lord Felden.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Sal turned, gesturing towards a group of three guards that were standing nearby, watching. One of them immediately walked away. ¡°I¡¯ll have some of the servants over to take care of your horses shortly.¡±

    Linara swung herself off her mount, holding the reins in one hand as she stepped towards Sal, reaching out and rubbing the girl¡¯s head affectionately. ¡°So you¡¯re in charge of defending the mansion?¡±

    Even as she swatted Linara¡¯s hand away, Sal grinned. ¡°Captain of the Lord¡¯s Manor Guards.¡± The girl did a quick spin, showing off her deep blue half-cape. ¡°Jakop is in command of everyone. Velent is captain of the city watch, while Gisli is captain of the outside patrols. They are a bit lacking in horses, though.¡±

    ¡°What happened to Henrick?¡± Linara asked, remembering the former royal guard that she had trusted to defend the manor.

    ¡°He quit two weeks ago, taking his pay and heading towards Bavmont. Didn¡¯t say anything about his plans.¡±

    Linara had been hoping that he was still around. Whatever loyalty he had towards Olentor would have been useful for her current assignment.

    ¡°Who is your friend, Linara?¡± A voice from behind her asked. She turned, seeing Vendel approaching. The old man smiled as he looked at Sal.

    A servant approached, and Linara handed the reins of her horse over. ¡°This is Sal, a mercenary from Bavmont. We traveled together for a time, and I taught her what I could. Sal, this is Vendel, treasurer from Olentor. I mentioned him to you once. He is here to negotiate with Felden.¡±

    ¡°One of my granddaughters is about your age. I couldn¡¯t imagine her being a mercenary, though. You must be quite something.¡±

    Sal blushed. ¡°It¡­it wasn¡¯t easy.¡±

    ¡°Honored guests.¡± An older man said as he approached them from the doors of the building. Linara didn¡¯t recognize him from her previous stay. ¡°I am Stellan, majordomo of Lord Felden¡¯s manor. May I inquire as to your identities and your purpose here?¡±

    ¡°I am Vendel, treasurer and adviser to King Senral of Olentor. With me are Sir Aldram, a Knight of Olentor, and Lady Linara, an envoy from the Hatharen stronghold of Aesuthal. Additionally I have two assistants and three guards. We would like to speak to your Lord on a diplomatic matter.¡±

    The majordomo¡¯s pleasant expression melted, replaced with a serious look, his lips pressed together. ¡°I will prepare guest rooms for your party, and arrange a formal meeting with Lord Felden. Please, follow me. Captain, if you would join me.¡±

    Nodding, Sal stepped to the older man¡¯s side. Aldram dismounted, handing his horse over, as the group followed the two inside the manor.

    ¡°A lot of the changes happened while I was recovering, but since taking up my new position I learned all about them.¡± Sal said, sitting down in one of several chairs in Linara¡¯s guest room. It was the same one that the two had once shared. Sal had her own in a different part of the manor, where she kept an apparently updated wardrobe to match her current profession. The off-duty captain wore a fine blue shirt that fit clung to her body without looking tight, clearly tailored specifically for her, though the presentation was ruined by the rather basic trousers she paired it with. ¡°Felden has taken full control of the city and that involved a large intake of extra work, so he hired more staff. He¡¯s made deals with all of the other wealthy people living in the city, only some of which required threats. This place is still half empty but feels crowded compared to how it was before, with all the new servants and guards.¡±

    ¡°So you have your work cut out for you, captain. Have you been keeping up with your training, or are you too busy for that?¡± Linara asked, smiling. When she had arrived in the city with Sal, a few months ago, the girl had been slightly shy, unsure of herself, but eager to learn. The shyness and uncertainty were gone. Sal radiated a kind of youthful confidence that Linara couldn¡¯t help but smile at.

    Rolling her eyes, Sal leaned back in her chair. ¡°I wake up early to train, except on days when I decide that I need to stay up late to train. Some days I decide to do both. I practice a lot of the movements I¡¯ve seen, to get faster. The quicker I can adapt to new things, the stronger I¡¯ll be. I rotate through my sparring partners, too. I win most of the time - the only ones that beat me are the older men. Gisli is the worst of them, always brings out a new trick, or changes up an old one. Keeps me guessing.¡±

    Nodding, Linara changed the subject. Grinning, she leaned forward. ¡°Tell me about your friend. The kitchen boy?¡±

    Dramatically, Sal groaned. ¡°While I was stuck in bed, he would check by every day. When I was better, and started walking around on my own, he suddenly wasn¡¯t interested in me any more! Apparently the idea of me getting stabbed was too much for him, and he only stuck around through my recovery because he felt bad about it. What did he expect?¡±

    Despite the complaints, Sal looked only mildly annoyed. ¡°So it really wasn¡¯t anything serious.¡±

    ¡°He was cute. I¡¯ll find someone else. Speaking of that, how did your relationship go? With the king?¡±

    ¡°I fixed it.¡± Linara said. Sal raised an eyebrow. ¡°I restarted it, spent a few weeks with him, and then ended it properly this time.¡±

    For a moment, Sal stared at Linara. Then she looked away, then back at her former mentor. ¡°You¡­slept with the king? While he was married?¡±

    Linara stared back at her blankly. ¡°Is that not what you asked me to do?¡±

    The girl¡¯s face drained of color, her eyes going wide. ¡°I didn¡¯t- I didn¡¯t think that-¡°

    She was cut off as Linara started laughing. ¡°Nothing bad came of it. In fact I think that properly resolving his relationship with me left the king in a better spot, mentally. At least I hope that it did. Relax.¡±

    Sinking into her chair, Sal pouted at Linara.

    The next day, Linara, Aldram, and Vendel were told that they would not be able to properly meet with Felden until the day after, leaving them with nothing to do.

    ¡°What did you do here when you were here before, Linara?¡± Vendel asked. ¡°Anyplace nice you should show us? I¡¯d ask about a fancy inn that we could get the king to pay for, but the accommodations here are already above any complaints.¡±

    ¡°Most of the time I was here, I was training Felden¡¯s men.¡±

    ¡°Where? I didn¡¯t see a training area in the gardens.¡± Aldram noted.

    ¡°There¡¯s a large basement. Formerly a dungeon, I¡¯m told, that was converted into a place to practice.¡±

    With a dramatic sigh, Vendel started walking away from the other two. ¡°While the clashing of weapons and muscles is a timeless and honorable hobby, it is not for one of my age. If the two of you wish to run off to it, I will simply find the majordomo and ask him what other activities there are to distract someone such as myself.¡±

    Ignoring Vendel¡¯s complaints as they faded away, Linara led Aldram to the basement, where the two of them were greeted by the sounds of clashing weapons. The massive underground space held around forty of Felden¡¯s soldiers. Torches on the walls provided dim light in the place of windows.

    ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d show up.¡± Sal stepped over to them as they finished descending the stairs. Rather than the colored uniform, she wore a padded training outfit with inset metal plates, and held a blunted metal sword in her hand.

    ¡°Hello, Sal.¡± Linara replied. ¡°Aldram wanted to see the training room.¡±

    Sal grinned. ¡°Unusual, isn¡¯t it? Odd at first but you get used to it after a few days down here.¡±

    ¡°So Linara trained you?¡± Aldram asked, looking down at the girl. He came up to Linara¡¯s eye level, putting him almost a full head over Sal.

    ¡°She did.¡± Sal said, meeting his gaze. ¡°Are you going to ask for a demonstration?¡±

    Nodding, Aldram stepped over towards a rack of training swords, scrutinizing them before picking one up, immediately putting it back, then picking up another one. He held it in front of him as he walked back towards Sal and Linara.

    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll see what you¡¯ve learned on your own, Sal.¡± Linara said, stepping back. Sal grinned, bringing her sword up and facing Aldram.

 Chapter 10, Book 2: Northern Alliance, Part 2

    Squaring off, both Sal and Aldram waited for a moment, staring at each other, before they both burst into movement at the same time. Sal struck first, with an aggressive horizontal swing that Aldram easily blocked. The girl leaned into the attack, pivoting around her opponent, pinning his weapon down and preventing a counterattack.

    When he finally pushed her away, Sal immediately moved again, replicating her attack, until the last moment, when she tilted her wrist, attempting to slide around Aldram¡¯s block. Rather than doing the same block as last time, Aldram flicked his sword, slapping Sal¡¯s weapon away.

    Smiling, Sal lunged, straight forward, keeping him on the defensive. With a simple sidestep, Aldram avoided the lunge and finally made an attack of his own. Sal managed to move her sword up to block, having not fully committed to her lunge, reacting just in time.

    The last second block put Sal at a disadvantaged position, giving Aldram a chance to attack. He launched a series of fast downward attacks, taking advantage of his height. Sal stepped back as she blocked one attack after another, trying to negate the height advantage, only to put herself in a position where he could use his superior reach.

    Linara stayed silent as she watched, and was joined by several of the other men who broke off their own training to see how their captain was faring. As they watched, Sal parried one attack, then blocked another. Aldram repeated the first swing, and Sal ducked, surging forward. Her blunted sword bounced off the side of his breastplate, while his own sword struck her on the shoulder.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Linara called. ¡°That¡¯s a draw.¡±

    Both of them turned towards her, mouths open. ¡°I hit first.¡± Sal protested.

    ¡°Her blow glanced off, and shouldn¡¯t count.¡±

    Sal turned to Aldram. ¡°You want to go again, then?¡±

    The young knight glared at her. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have to prove myself a second time, but I¡¯m more than willing if it is needed.¡±

    ¡°Stop.¡± Linara repeated, stepping forward. ¡°Sparring rivalries are meant to be friendly. You are both too emotional about this.¡±

    ¡°I am not!¡± Sal quickly denied, then blushed. Aldram laughed, until Linara turned her gaze to him.

    ¡°Sal, come practice with me. It¡¯s been too long. In the meantime, perhaps you could suggest one of your men to train with Aldram?¡±

    Letting out a sigh, Sal nodded, turning away to call someone over.

    ¡°Are you protecting her?¡± Aldram asked.

    ¡°You do not want to challenge Sal to a duel with sharpened weapons.¡± Linara kept her voice level, but stern. ¡°Her preferred weapon is very different from the sparring swords.¡±

    Aldram frowned, but stayed quiet.

    Eventually, Sal, along with a good number of Felden¡¯s men, left for their posts. Aldram approached Linara. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you let me continue training against her?¡±

    ¡°You were emotional. You both were emotional.¡± Linara ammended as Aldram opened his mouth to interrupt her. ¡°That¡¯s the main reason, but it would have been made worse by how Sal fights. If you kept fighting her, you would have lost. Not because you are weaker, but because she only gets better the more she fights any one opponent, unless you can understand what she is doing, and when you are emotional you are in no place to see it.¡±

    He frowned at her, confused. ¡°Can you tell me what it is?¡±

    ¡°If you want to prove yourself - to me, to Rilren, or to Sal herself - you¡¯ll have to learn it on your own. I won¡¯t tell Sal how to beat you, nor will I tell you how to beat her. I¡¯m a neutral party.¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t showing her how to fight me?¡±

    Linara grinned. ¡°I was evaluating her growth. Anything she learned against me today she learned on her own, and I did not use any techniques from Olentor.¡±

    ¡°I will beat her.¡± He said, squaring his shoulders. ¡°I still think I beat her today.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see. For now, it¡¯s time for you to take a break. Let us find the rest of our companions and see what they are up to.¡±

    The rest of the day passed mostly uneventfully, Linara steering Aldram away from the training room late at night when she suspected Sal might return to it. He was not her responsibility, but she wanted to give Sal a proper opponent.

    Sal waited as Aldram moved first, lunging forward and stabbing at her chest. A simple parry made to push his blade aside, but Aldram brought his weight down, pressing forward, locking his weapon against Sal¡¯s, shoving her back when she finally managed to break away. With no set bounds, Sal simply waited again, letting Aldram take control of the session.

    He did exactly that, stepping towards Sal, raising his weapon over his head. Sad feinted lunging in, only to pull back as he moved to block, moving to a sideways swing, just as she had the previous day. Aldram¡¯s attempt at blocking it met air as Sal changed the trajectory of her swing and swept his legs, the side of her sword smacking against his knee.

    Stepping back, Aldram blinked twice. ¡°Again.¡± He said, pressing his lips together. Sal nodded, returning to her fighting stance. Linara stayed silent, letting the two go at it. Cutting it short after such a quick hit would only frustrate them both.

    Aldram moved forward again, and Sal once more feinted the lunge, but this time Aldram changed his pace, swinging downwards long before he reached Sal, only to flick his sword back upwards, nearly tapping Sal in the shoulder as she twisted out of the way at the last moment. Off-balance, she stumbled sideways, swinging her sword towards Aldram to ward off any attacks. He deliberately met it, pushing her weapon further away from her body, then moving in to slap her chest.

    ¡°Again.¡± Sal said, taking a deep breath. Aldram grinned, and moved back to line up opposite her. This time, Sal changed her stance, holding her weapon over her head in one hand and raising the opposite leg. Aldram paused, looking at her in confusion, before stepping forward and thrusting, using the full length of his arm to just barely strike at her.

    Sal ducked under it, lashing out with an upwards strike, almost the exact same movement Aldram had used previously, though her stance was completely different. She wasn¡¯t able to reach him, but did push his sword upwards and away from her. She stepped forward, immediately bringing her leg up again.

    Aldram made a second swing, which Sal blocked, kicking out with her raised leg and slamming her foot into his chest, shoving him backwards. She immediately followed up by charging forward, bringing her sword down in an overhead slash. Aldram moved to parry it, but Sal mirrored his earlier movement, swinging down early and then flicking back up, catching him in the armpit.

    He shot a glance at Linara, the nodded at her. ¡°Alright Sal.¡± He said, turning back to his smiling opponent. ¡°I understand now. One more time.¡±

    They rushed each other, and Aldram maneuvered around Sal¡¯s attack only to slam his sword against hers, pushing her back again. This time he took one hand off his weapon and grabbed Sal¡¯s arm, pulling her towards him. She struggled for a moment, but fell forward, and he twisted, shoving her to the ground. Sal rolled away before he could tap her with his sword, coming to her feet, eyes wide, breathing heavily. Aldram walked towards her, confident, sword in one hand. Sal launched her own attack, pushing him back.

    Adjusting back to a two-handed hold, Aldram spread his legs, standing with his sword held in front of him. Sal stood on one leg again, sword over her head. Taking one long step forward, Aldram swung downward at Sal, who blocked with her sword while kicking upward with her leg, striking at the knight¡¯s elbow from below. Expecting this, Aldram dropped his sword and grabbed her leg, pulling her off balance. Sal, on one foot, jumped, twisting in mid air to kick Aldram in the chest again, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Linara said, jogging forward. Both of them scrambled to their feet.

    ¡°I got the last hit!¡± Sal claimed, smiling.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way you can beat me in a grapple.¡±

    ¡°I still had my sword, and you dropped yours.¡±

    Both of them argued, ignoring Linara, who sighed. ¡°Aldram, we should get ready for our audience with lord Felden. Go clean your sweat off and put on a good uniform.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s she going to do?¡± Aldram asked, defiant.

    ¡°I¡¯m not in charge of her.¡±

    Shaking his head, Aldram took three steps towards the exit, then stopped, turning back to Linara. ¡°You¡¯re just here as an adviser, I¡¯m-¡°

    ¡°I am advising you to make yourself presentable to the ruler of this city, who we came to make a deal with.¡± Linara snapped. Aldram stood up straight, his eyes wide. He nodded and moved towards the entrance as quickly as could while still looking like he was walking.

    ¡°What did you do back in Olentor?¡± Sal asked, studying Linara with a look of admiration on her face.

    ¡°I trained their king and repeatedly beat their best knight.¡±

    ¡°How would you plan to defend this city against an army from Ettsgras or Celngi?¡±

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Felden frowned at Vendel¡¯s question, turning towards Jakop. The old knight sat with his arms crossed over his chest, the only other person on Felden¡¯s side of the table. Vendel, Linara, and Aldram sat across from the two of them in the small meeting room that Felden arranged. ¡°We make ourselves look not worth the effort. We may only have a comparably small number of trained fighters, but if the people of the city are in danger, if one in four joins a militia we can field thousands.¡±

    ¡°Will they be armed? And fed?¡± Linara spoke up.

    ¡°You ask questions you already know the answer to.¡± Felden replied, rubbing his head. ¡°You know this city isn¡¯t self sufficient. You want us as an ally, but you know we can offer you little. What is the purpose of all of this?¡±

    Vendel grinned. ¡°You are being carried down a river, Lord Felden. Your small raft is water worthy, but you have no means of steering it. Olentor is offering you an oar, if you can help us through the rapids ahead. You even get to keep the oar afterward, to use however you want.¡±

    ¡°Spare me the analogies and speak plainly.¡±

    Placing his hands on the table, Vendel drummed his fingertips against the wood. Linara kept her face neutral. Some may see this as a nervous habit, but Vendel only did this when he was completely focused. ¡°The cities in the Independent Lands rarely have the organization you have brought to Celkeish, despite them being much smaller. You cannot continue on as a single, lone city. Claim territory. Bring the surrounding areas under your rule, under your protection. Become not just a city, but a city-state. Work with the nearby farmers, offer them benefits. Expand, and you will gain what you need to defend yourself.¡±

    Closing his eyes, Felden took a deep breath. ¡°Jakop, can we do what they are asking?¡±

    ¡°My Lord.¡± The old knight said. ¡°There are things we are lacking to make such a plan possible long term.¡±

    ¡°And Olentor is ready to provide them, and more.¡±

    ¡°For what? Becoming a vassal state under your young king?¡±

    They had prepared for this. It was the obvious thing to accuse them of wanting. Olentor had unified with Wellent, and together they were the largest power in the northern lands by far.

    ¡°If we can count on you to secure the northwestern border, we have no interest in that. Having a strong ally is all we want. As I said, you are free to do with the oar what you want.¡±

    ¡°So what do you want us to do until then? These rapids you talked about?¡±

    ¡°You know the situation in the south, Felden. You talked to me about your grand plans.¡± Linara interjected. ¡°You were hoping to forge an alliance with the other cities in the independent lands. Here¡¯s a far stronger ally that you can have. Olentor is ready to send force to Wellent if an attack comes from that direction. If a southern army marches north instead of northeast, we can send support to you, but we cannot support a doomed city.¡±

    ¡°We have heard about Olentor flexing their military might. Rumors that the capture of territory south of Wellent came with a rather interesting price.¡± Jakop spoke softly, his expression dark. Linara stared at him. How much did he know?

    Vendel stayed calm, tapping his fingers. ¡°Wellent¡¯s general was in charge for that battle. Similarly, if we were to support Celkeish, you would be in charge of any men we send. We would only be sending forces in a worst case scenario, though. In the shorter term, establishing yourselves as a proper state would require other forms of assistance, would it not?¡±

    Nodding in satisfaction, Jakop leaned back in his chair. Felden took over. ¡°You seem very comfortable dictating the direction we take going forward.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a logical conclusion that you would have come to yourself, if you haven¡¯t already.¡± Linara didn¡¯t hesitate to push forward. ¡°You dedicated a third of your trained soldiers to patrolling outside the city. Olentor is known for having the best horses, something needed for allowing your troops to move quickly in a larger territory.¡± She spoke over her feelings of guilt. Sal had, in casual conversation, given away critical information before even realizing that Felden might want to hide such things, and Linara was taking full advantage of it.

    ¡°Is that what you would offer in the short term? Horses?¡±

    ¡°You also lack weapons.¡± Aldram finally spoke up. ¡°I doubt you could outfit a militia on the scale that you expect to have. You could dedicate your people to making weapons, or you could accept some from us.¡±

    ¡°And what weapons would Olentor be able to give away? Do you routinely keep thousands of extra spears and armor in good condition?¡±

    ¡°No, but we can replace what we give you more easily than you could make those numbers yourself.¡±

    Leaning forward again, Jakop directed his gaze to Vendel. ¡°War in the south has yet to fully start. When it does, it could go on for years before a victor emerges. If they are as hungry for conquest as we all assume, we will have a lot of time to prepare. You would part with your weapons now, and use the years to replenish them?¡± Vendel nodded.

    ¡°Horses, weapons, and the promise of direct aid if we are attacked? It seems a deal that overly benefits us. You are giving up a lot even if we aren¡¯t attacked, and taking major risks, creating a major power on your own border.¡± Felden turned his gaze to Linara.

    Vendel chose to respond. ¡°Celkeish marching a militia of thousands towards Olentor would be very threatening to Olentor. However, Olentor no longer stands alone. While the combined might of Olentor and Wellent might not stand up to the armies of the south, it is more than enough to repel any attempt from you.¡±

    ¡°And if we conveniently organize the area, what is to stop your combined might from replacing me as the ruler here?¡±

    ¡°Defending and attacking are two very different things. We¡¯d be attacking a city we helped fortify. If we wanted to replace you and do the work ourselves, I¡¯d just have Linara kill you right here.¡± Felden¡¯s eyes went wide at Vendel¡¯s words. ¡°The good will of the people is something no so easily earned. Conquering the hearts of the people who live in this city is a much taller order than winning on the battlefield.¡±

    ¡°Let us stop for today.¡± Felden said. ¡°I have to consider your offer.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Vendel replied, and the three from Olentor rose and exited the room, leaving Felden and Jakop to discuss things.

    ¡°We are building someone else¡¯s empire here. It¡¯s natural they would be suspicious. Senral is exploring new ideas with this plan.¡± Linara was the first to speak when they arrived at the lounge Felden had lent them - similar to the one she had first met him in, rather than a proper meeting room with a table, it contained a sofa and several large chairs, one of which Vendel was quick to claim.

    ¡°I wonder how well being disinterested would have worked.¡± He mused.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Aldram asked, standing stiffly instead of sitting down.

    ¡°We come here and act like we are on a fool¡¯s errand, that our king has, in his youth, made a gross misstep and refuses to back down, so we must propose this offer and are eager to simply be done with it.¡±

    The knight somehow stood even straighter, glaring at the older man. ¡°We would come here and insult his Highness?¡±

    ¡°An act, Aldram. Relax.¡± Linara reassured him. ¡°I¡¯m not sure Felden would go for that. I am sure he will accept this, eventually. He could have asked for more, if you didn¡¯t highlight exactly what he needs and offer to provide it. He just needs to convince himself that you mean well.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t leave yourself out of this, Linara. Despite your official position, you are doing a large amount of the work here.¡±

    ¡°It is tiresome, being stuck in a room and arguing back and forth with those two. I¡¯m going to go to sleep. Hopefully we can finish this tomorrow. They would be foolish to make more demands, so we can hopefully skip any long back and forth of making demands of each other.¡±

    Rather than go to the basement in the morning again, Linara went for a run around the outside of the mansion. It was a far cry from being in the open air, the closeness of the city¡¯s buildings nothing compared to the feeling of standing on top of the walls of Olentor¡¯s Keep, but it was a break from watching Sal and Aldram go back and forth. The two were evenly matched, but both were taking sparring the wrong way in their eagerness to prove to her, and each other, which one was better.

    Finishing up, she returned to her room in the mansion, took a bath, put on fresh clothes, and went to the basement.

    Neither Sal nor Aldram were there.

    A conversation with one of the others sent her back upstairs, towards a library where Sal had taken him to find a book about something she had to prove herself right about. Linara sighed to herself as she walked through the halls and eventually found the door in question.

    Rather than an expansive library with rows of shelves like the one in Olentor¡¯s castle, she found herself in a room not much bigger than the meeting room, with floor to ceiling bookshelves lining the walls, and the center space of the room filled with a number of large stuff chairs and some high tables for placing books on to read.

    On one of these chairs sat Sal and Aldram. Linara¡¯s former student was sitting in the knight¡¯s lap, facing him, her knees on either side of his hips and her face pressed against his, her hands wrapped in his hair. His hands were wrapped around her back, holding the two of them together.

    Linara stared for a moment, then rapped her hand against the door behind her.

    Sal practically launched herself backwards, turning as stood up, her eyes wide. Aldram was slower, awkwardly struggling to his feet. They were both breathing heavily.

    ¡°Aldram, go find Vendel. I¡¯ll meet the two of you in the lounge to discuss our plans for today¡¯s meeting.¡±

    He opened his mouth, then closed it, then looked at Sal, then Linara. With a curt nod, he jogged past her, out the door. Linara fixed her gaze on Sal. ¡°Sparring with your tongue?¡±

    ¡°I-Linara, it isn¡¯t, I don¡¯t-¡°

    ¡°Did you win?¡±

    Sal blushed. ¡°I don¡¯t even like him!¡±

    ¡°Odd way of showing it.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s stuck up, self important, he looks down on me because I¡¯m shorter and younger than him. No matter how many times I beat him he still thinks he¡¯s better than me!¡±

    ¡°And no matter how many times he beats you, you still think you are better than him.¡±

    Sal looked down, her lips pressed together. ¡°He¡¯s stupid.¡± She whispered.

    ¡°You need to understand who he is. What he is. How he is different from you.¡±

    Looking up, Sal tilted her head, just a little. Her face remained flushed, her glare fixated on Linara.

    ¡°Aldram is an orphan. He was raised as a knight. He was trained extensively by a man who is almost as strong as I am. He has a lot of pride in that identity because it is all he is. He worked hard and wants recognition for that. Just as you want recognition for what you became after being disowned by your parents. You both want the same thing but think that giving it to the other would negate getting it yourself. You can acknowledge someone else without losing yourself. You are attracted to each other because you both know that you want the same thing.¡±

    Sal deflated, letting out a sigh and sinking into a chair. ¡°I learned he hadn¡¯t kissed anyone and wanted to show him that I was better than him at it. And yes, I did win.¡±

    ¡°As a knight, his loyalty will always be to Olentor and its king.¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°He will not give up who he is to be with you. No matter what you two do together.¡±

    Sal immediately blushed again. ¡°We just kissed! It¡¯s not¡­I don¡¯t even like him that much. Stop making fun of me and go to your meeting already!¡±

    ¡°Why do you think you were chosen to be here?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Me. Vendel. You. Three soldiers. Two of Vendel¡¯s assistants. You are in charge of keeping us all safe. Why?¡±

    ¡°Hardly. You¡¯re the real one in charge here.¡± Aldram said, pouting. Vendel quietly watched. They didn¡¯t need to talk about plans.

    ¡°Have I ever told you how to position your men? Have I objected to how you have managed them while we stay here? All of your orders are your own, are they not?¡±

    ¡°They are.¡±

    ¡°So, why were you picked for this, instead of someone older and more experienced?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He admitted.

    ¡°Because you are being tested, Aldram. You are young and lack experience, so you were given a chance to get that experience, and to prove yourself as someone who can handle both the responsibility of command while also following the orders of the people you need to protect.¡±

    He stayed silent for a moment, looking up at Linara from his seated position. ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°And you have gotten involved in a childish rivalry which ended in fraternization.¡± Looking down, he blushed. ¡°How old are you, Aldram?¡±

    ¡°Twenty two.¡±

    ¡°And how old is Sal?¡±

    ¡°Eighteen.¡±

    ¡°Act like a proper soldier and not a horny child.¡± He nodded. ¡°Now, time to stop thinking about kissing girls and start thinking about how we will get Felden to agree to our terms.¡±

 Chapter 11, Book 2: Path of Regret, part 1

    Ferene walked the road, barely paying attention to her surroundings. More than that, she barely paid attention to herself. Her feet hurt, but she ignored that. Her stomach ached for food, but she ignored that. She trembled with every step, unsure of when she last slept. Eating, sleeping, or taking a break wouldn''t bring Cerise back. Yenra¡¯s face floated in her memory, the glare accusing her, judging her. She didn¡¯t know how long she had been walking. A week? Two?

    Something knocked her down, and she lay in the dirt for a moment before slowly pushing herself up. She needed to get back to Ettsgras. Taradira was there, but more importantly Velan was there. She wanted to see him. She had saved him, once. He had been kind to her, even after seeing her kill people, even after seeing her fail to save Amelia. If she couldn''t go to Rilya at least she could go to Velan.

    ¡°Get off the road, you idiot!¡± Someone yelled at her, pushing her to the side. There were people running past her, in the opposite direction. One of them had knocked her over the first time, and now another shoved her aside, almost sending her down again. Stumbling, she managed to stay upright, lifting her head to look and see what was happening.

    Smoke drifted into the sky in front of her. The town down the road burned. Dozens of people were running down the path, towards her. Ferene felt her blood pumping despite her exhaustion. She grabbed the next person to pass close enough.

    ¡°What''s happening?¡± She asked. Her voice was rough, her throat dry. How many days had it been since she last spoke, since she last drank?

    ¡°Mercenaries. We hired them to protect us, but they started hurting people. Mayor tried to tell them to leave, and they set half the town on fire. Killed him and strung him up in the town square. We ran. You should too.¡±

    Letting the young man go, Ferene focused on the scene ahead of her. With purpose, she strode forward, drawing her sword as she went. The incoming people broke before her, now, moving out of her way. By the time around three dozen of them had run past, there were no more. Ferene could see the burning buildings.

    Her head was working properly, now. Heading into a group of mercenaries, of unknown number, was not a good choice. She did not care right now, though. She wanted to hurt them, or hurt herself. It was not the same thing she used to feel. Maybe this was how Linara felt when they had fought each other. Her hands tightened around her sword.

    Just as she was thinking of ways to approach and possibly only engage a few at a time, armored men started running towards her, weapons drawn. They were screaming. Ferene cut down one that lunged for her, his attack wildly off-center. Another swung an axe, and Ferene avoided the attack and cut him across the legs, sending him tumbling to the ground. Then the rest, like the villagers, were past her. They were not turning back. She spun, throwing herself into a run of her own, chasing them down. The first two kept trying to run, making them easy targets. The third turned, blocking her first attack, but stumbled, falling to the ground. Ferene stabbed the man through his throat before moving to the last one. This one, a woman, stopped, falling to her knees and throwing down her weapon.

    ¡°Did you burn the village?¡± She hardly recognized her own voice.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me. I didn¡¯t burn nothin. I didn¡¯t touch those women. I jus-¡°

    ¡°Did you stop the others from touching the women? From burning the village? From killing the mayor?¡± Ferene knelt down next to the mercenary, staring into her eyes. ¡°Did you watch and laugh as innocent people were hurt?¡± How many times had Ferene seen people do just that?

    ¡°I didn¡¯t laugh, I just¡­I just stayed quiet.¡±

    ¡°Kill her or I¡¯ll do it.¡± A voice from behind Ferene said. She turned, seeing a Hatharen walking down the road, dressed in human clothes, a sword in his hand. Standing up, she faced him, raising her own sword.

    He paused, his eyes going to her weapon. ¡°Where did you get that sword?¡± He asked. When Ferene didn¡¯t respond, he pointed his own weapon at her. ¡°Answer me.¡±

    The flourish he used drew her eyes to his sword, and she noticed the crossguard of his weapon was not standard. Two forward-facing spikes extended from it, matching the ones that Relgren showed Ferene on her own weapon. ¡°A dying man gave it to me.¡± She said. She could hear the woman behind her scrambling away, but her eyes were locked on the Hatharen in front of her.

    ¡°That is a weapon of the Knights of Resh, an order I was told is dead.¡±

    ¡°He told me he was the last of them.¡±

    ¡°And how did he die?¡±

    ¡°I killed him.¡± Ferene said.

    The Hatharen lunged at her, moving far faster than she expected. He wasn¡¯t anywhere near the size of Taradira, or Sathar, but he was still tall enough to tower over Ferene, and he swung his sword, which was nearly the same as hers, with only one hand. Ferene blocked the first attack, but he smoothly moved into another swing, and a third, driving her back. When she finally knocked his weapon to the side, he twisted, delivering a kick to her chest.

    Stumbling backwards, Ferene managed to avoid falling. ¡°Why don¡¯t you fight back?¡±

    ¡°I promised him I wouldn¡¯t kill anyone that didn¡¯t deserve it.¡±

    ¡°The man you killed?¡±

    Ferene nodded, blocking another series of attacks, then twisting out of the way of a kick, only to have him slap her in the face. It stung. He was toying with her. ¡°He made me promise to¡­¡± She trailed off, lowering her sword. ¡°To stop doing what evil people told me to do, to kill their leader, to run away, to live a better life.¡±

    The Hatharen stopped and frowned at her. ¡°Did you?¡±

    ¡°I tried my best.¡±

    Sheathing his sword at his waist, he laughed. ¡°Resh, if you were here to see this, what would you tell me to do?¡±

    Ferene stared at the strange Hatharen, confused, but slung her own weapon onto her back.

    ¡°You look awful.¡±

    ¡°I feel awful.¡±

    He frowned at her, then smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll give you something to eat.¡±

    Following him back to a campsite, Ferene found herself exhausted, each step heavier than the last. The physical exertion after so many days of neglect catching up to her. When they finally arrived she fell backwards, sitting down hard.

    ¡°Here, eat this.¡± He said, pushing something into her hand. Ferene quickly ate it, barely able to taste whatever it was before swallowing.

    She ate a second, then a third, before her body tensed, her stomach tightening. Ferene leaned to the side and vomited, spitting up chunks of whatever he had fed her and very little else. ¡°No meat.¡± She managed to say, wiping her mouth.

    ¡°One of those, then.¡± She found him handing her a piece of hard bread, which she quickly ate. The taste of her bile was strong, but she managed to keep it down. He gave her a second, then a third, breaking bits off a square he held. After the fourth, he handed her what was left of it and let her eat it on her own. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous to neglect yourself like that. You¡¯d die before going into hibernation.¡±

    She looked up at him, blinking, as he knelt next to her, and nodded. ¡°So, what¡¯s your story?¡± He asked.

    Ferene decided to remain silent, not wanting to respond, but then remembered something. She pulled her dagger out of its sheath, turning it around and handing it over.

    His eyes lit up as he took it, examining both sides of the blade. ¡°I didn¡¯t get to look at the other one of these I saw up close. That is interesting. Hello, Ferene. My name is Grathen.¡±

    Holding out her hand, Ferene waited until he handed it back before she nodded. ¡°Thank you for the food.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll need more. Stay with me for a bit. You don¡¯t want to tell me about yourself, that¡¯s fine. You probably aren¡¯t interested in my story, either. How about I tell you about that sword, and what it means?¡±

    ¡°How would you know?¡±

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°I was there when the Knights of Resh were first founded. Resh was more than just my best friend. You are the only thing that remains of his legacy, and I want you to understand what that means.¡±

    Ferene nodded, and he handed her another square of bread.

    ¡°Resh was a soldier. He fought for his lord, defending their lands from a neighbor¡¯s attack. When his lord ordered an attack in turn, Resh followed the order. He did what he was told, and won battle after battle. He grew close to the men who fought beside him, and they all trusted each other.¡±

    ¡°During one battle, they captured a small village. Resh and seven others forced the opposing soldiers out. Resh¡¯s commander arrived after, finding them talking with the people of the village. He told Resh that their lord had ordered his soldiers to kill the people who lived under his opponent¡¯s rule.¡±

    ¡°Resh refused, and his men stood with him. The commander brought another squad over, but Resh and his men said they would defend the people of the village. The other squad attacked anyway, and Resh killed them, then he killed the commander. He knew that he and his men could never return, so he told them that rather than fight for their lord, they would fight for a greater cause. To protect the weak from the strong that would take advantage of them. To seek out and remove the corruption and evil that lead to such acts. He vowed to kill his lord, and his men made the same vow. This is where the Knights of Resh first started, but they didn¡¯t know it at the time.¡±

    ¡°Did Resh kill him?¡± Ferene asked.

    ¡°The conflict was small, with the lords having less than a hundred men each. Resh turned and marched back towards his home. Some of the other soldiers fought him, some joined him when they heard the story of what happened, and others just left, seeing too much risk in fighting for either side. He stormed his lord¡¯s residence and killed the man. That is where his men dedicated themselves to him and his ideals, forming the Knights of Resh.¡±

    Ferene nodded, drinking from the wooden cup Grathen loaned her. His camp was set up next to a well, and he demanded she drink water while she listened to his story. ¡°So are you going to tell me how to be a Knight of Resh?¡±

    Grathen let out a long sigh, his face fallen. ¡°If the order faded away, I see no reason to restore it. I loved Resh, and I kept training knights for hundreds of years after he passed away. Just as he is now resting, his legacy can do the same. I want you to know the history of the sword you carry, but you only need to carry the weight of the sword, not the weight of the history. Live your own life, not one devised by a man thousands of years dead.¡±

    Setting her cup down, Ferene drew her sword, resting the blade flat on top of her hands. ¡°It can¡¯t be that old, can it?¡± She asked, holding it out.

    Leaning forward, Grathen took the weapon from her, inspecting it. ¡°It might be a hundred years old, but it wouldn¡¯t have come from the height of the order, much less a time when Resh himself was alive. It is a good sword, and is in the style that the order used. I could make you a better one - a proper Hatharen weapon, from Hatharen steel. I¡¯d need ore from the mountains, though, and I have no intention of going there. I¡¯m looking for a Hatharen called Taradira.¡±

    He handed the sword back to Ferene, and she returned it to her back, nodding. ¡°I¡­should go to her.¡± She didn¡¯t know what to make of Grathen. He was the one Linara had mentioned, but beyond that Ferene didn¡¯t know what he wanted. His reaction to her at first had completely changed. He didn¡¯t want anything from her, and told her the story for reasons she didn¡¯t understand. What was she supposed to do with ancient history? ¡°I think¡­I think I should also talk to her again. Taradira. Her and someone else.¡± Thinking of Taradira also brought up memories of Velan. He had comforted her before, and she wanted that again. She missed Rilya, but Yonthal was much further away. Taking a deep drink of water, she made up her mind. To Ettsgras, to see Velan and talk to Taradira.

    ¡°Sleep for the night, and then continue your journey in the morning.¡± He said, standing up, grabbing his sword. ¡°Take some food with you when you leave, but leave everything else here. I don¡¯t know how long until I¡¯ll be back.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°The woman you didn¡¯t kill. She got away during our fight, and you were more important.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to kill her?¡± Ferene asked.

    ¡°Do you think I shouldn¡¯t?¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Ferene pushed herself to her feet, lessening the degree he was looking down at her. ¡°Give her a chance. People make mistakes, and they deserve a chance to turn them around.¡±

    ¡°Like the one you were given?¡± Ferene nodded at his question. ¡°From the man that you killed?¡± She hesitated, but nodded again, her jaw clenched. She had gotten a lot of people killed who she didn¡¯t want to, that didn¡¯t deserve it, even after her promise. Maybe the woman she had spared would do better than her. ¡°Fine. I will still find her, and learn what she plans to do. I will not kill her unless she shows no desire to change.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    For a lone traveler, Grathen carried a lot of supplies. Ferene found a small pouch of the hard bread. Eating one, she tied the pouch to her belt and looked to the southeast. Somewhere there was the forest. She regretted not passing through it on her way back, but she had left Wellent heading west, and her aimless traveling had only taken her slightly south, from her guess. Looking south, she wondered where Ettsgras was. Until now, she had dragged her feet, and not kept her usual pace. How many days of traveling like that was it? She couldn¡¯t remember, her mind was a blur.

    Regardless, she walked south. The empty wilderness told her she was likely still in the independent lands, which could mean anything. She tried running, but didn¡¯t make it far before feeling strain in her legs. The short sprints in the fight yesterday were probably all she could manage right now. Even after sleeping, her body registered the exhaustion of all the sleepless nights. Regardless, Ferene pushed forward, trying her best to move as she usually did, but found herself stopping for a break after a few hours of walking.

    Grathen¡¯s story had distracted her, made her think about what the man that gave her the sword wanted. As she sat down and broke off small pieces of bread to eat, the distraction came to an end.

    Cerise was dead. Amelia was dead. Jall was dead. The three of them flashed before her eyes, along with the child she killed in the mine. The man on the road who had given her the sword. Her mother, smiling in a way that did nothing to hide her sadness. Her hopelessness.

    Pushing herself to her feet, Ferene started running. She didn¡¯t make it far before her legs started throbbing with each step, but she kept going. Her entire body hurt. She screamed, still running. Something caught her foot and she fell, slamming into the dirt.

    Laying on the ground, she started crying.

    Voices.

    Ferene struggled to open her eyes. At some point, she had fallen asleep, in the same position she had landed. Two voices. The sky above was dark, a few stars shining down on her, poking through a canopy of leaves.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch it.¡±

    ¡°I wanna pull on those ears.¡±

    ¡°What if it wakes up and kills ya?¡±

    Two men, from the sound of it. Their voices were not directly above her, but close. She rolled onto her back and sat up.

    Footsteps, running away. Ferene turned in that direction, seeing one man, frozen in place, staring at her, while the other watched her curiously, adjusting the lantern in his land and shedding slightly light over the area. Pushing herself to her feet, Ferene took a step towards the two. One of them immediately fell over. ¡°D-dun hurt me!¡± He said. His voice matched the second speaker. He looked to be noticeably younger than his companion.

    Ferene didn¡¯t know how long she had slept, but she felt hungry again. The younger man flinched as she pulled a piece of bread out of Grathen¡¯s pouch. Upon seeing her take a bite, he relaxed.

    ¡°Going to Ettsgras. How far is it?¡±

    He stared up at her, his expression beyond his eyes hard to make out in the starlight. ¡°I never been to Ettsgras.¡±

    ¡°Do you know which way?¡±

    ¡°South.¡± The older one answered, helping the other to his feet.

    Nodding, Ferene turned and looked in the direction he pointed, taking another bite of bread. She wished she had some fresh or even dried fruit, but the bread would have to do until she found something else.

    ¡°Dark out.¡±

    ¡°So?¡± Ferene asked, looking back at the men.

    ¡°Ya lucky we found ya. We were about to head back to our village. Ya look like ya could use a rest.¡±

    Frowning, Ferene looked at the two of them, then at the bread she had been eating. She nodded.

    ¡°This way.¡± The older one said, turning in a different direction. The younger of the two quickly stepped ahead, putting some distance between himself and Ferene, but still looking back at her. Ferene followed at a distance, wary of the two.

    ¡°I¡¯m Hallac, and this is my nephew, Elsham.¡±

    ¡°Ferene.¡± She introduced herself.

    The three walked in silence for a time, before Hallac spoke up again. ¡°Those swords seen a lot of use?¡± Frowning, Ferene made a noise of confirmation. They fell back into silence, Ferene finishing her bread. Ahead of Ferene, Hallac walked forward, the dim lantern swaying in his hand, casting dancing shadows through the woods. Elsham kept throwing glances back over his shoulder every few dozen steps, quick peaks at Ferene before looking forward again.

    ¡°Village is just up ahead.¡± Hallac eventually said.

    Ferene saw light in the distance, probably some outdoor torches. As they emerged from the forest, a woman limped over towards them. ¡°Hallac! Elsham! What were you doing out so late? Who is this?¡±

    ¡°Found this one asleep in the woods.¡± Hallac responded as Elsham walked over to the woman, casting another look back at Ferene. In the more proper light of the village torches, Ferene saw he was younger than she first thought.

    ¡°She looks dangerous. Got strange ears.¡± Rather than cautious, the woman looked contemplative. Ferene frowned again.

    ¡°Not sure about that, but she isn¡¯t staying for long. Heading for Ettsgras. Let her sleep somewhere for the night.¡±

    ¡°Go get the cot for her. I¡¯m going to sleep, now that you two are back. Stayed up too late worrying.¡± She said, before limping away, Elsham following her, occasionally looking back at Ferene.

    ¡°That¡¯s Yarrow. My sister. Come on, let¡¯s set you up so you can get back to sleep.¡±

    Ferene nodded and followed in the same direction as the other two. She¡¯d prefer to keep going, but she still felt tired and wasn¡¯t going to turn down the offer. She might even be able to buy more food from them in the morning.

    The three lived in a small log cabin with two rooms. The bedroom was already cramped with three beds in it, so Ferene helped Hallac push the table in the other room to the side so they could put down the cot. It turned out to be two thick, mostly stiff pieces of cloth tied together, just long enough for a regular human to lay down on. Ferene found her feet hanging off the end, but didn¡¯t mind. She took off her armor and placed her swords directly beside the bed, easily in reach. Despite having been woken up not long ago in the woods, she found herself drifting off to sleep shortly after lying down.

 Chapter 11, Book 2: Path of Regret, part 2

    The rising sun woke Ferene. A large window let a stream of light in, no small amount of it hitting her in the face. She considered turning over and ignoring it, but remembered that she was in a strange new place. Pushing herself to her feet, she strapped her short sword to her belt and pulled on her boots, then slung her cloak over her shoulders. After moving her armor and her larger sword to a spot near the door, she stepped outside.

    In the reddish light of the rising sun, Ferene got a better look at the village. A collection of some thirty or more log houses, not much different than the one she had spent the night in. A few of the residents were already awake, and gave her odd looks. One thing that stood out is that all of them were armed in some way - visible clubs, knives, or axes hanging from belts, a few with bows and quivers on their backs, even one carrying a half-length pitchfork. Very unlike the farmers Ferene had seen in the past. She frowned, feeling a sense of unease.

    Completing a circle around the town, Ferene found herself back at Hallac and Yarrow¡¯s cabin, where the woman was outside, apparently waiting for her.

    ¡°Come on inside if you want breakfast.¡± She said, and limped back inside without waiting for a response. Ferene followed.

    Elsham was setting wooden plates on the table, which was no longer pushed to the side, with the cot moved to the side to make space. On the other end of the room, Hallac stood at a wooden counter, obscuring whatever he was making, but Ferene could smell hot bread.

    Yarrow sat at the table, gesturing for Ferene to do the same as Elsham finished setting four places with a bowl, plate, and cup before walking over to Hallac. The two men walked over to the table, carrying a plate of bread and a large serving pot, both with steam rising from them.

    Breakfast was bread and boiled oats, which Ferene was thankful for. Though plain, the bread was airy and soft, a nice change from the hard, dense travel squares that Grathen gave her.

    Ferene finished her meal and stacked her dishes before standing up and grabbing her armor from where it had been piled next to her folded cot. Slowly, she started putting it on.

    ¡°Going to run off already?¡± Yarrow asked.

    ¡°I told ya she wasn¡¯t staying here.¡± Hallac interjected.

    ¡°She could at least help out a bit, in exchange for food and lodgings.¡±

    Ferene fumbled at her pockets, finding the coin that Varrot had given her. She stood up and placed it on the table, drawing the eyes of all three of them. ¡°I want to buy supplies.¡±

    ¡°Issat gold?¡± Elsham asked, reaching out to touch it. Yarrow immediately grabbed his hand.

    ¡°You won¡¯t find enough coin in our whole village to split that.¡± She said,

    Hallac tapped the table twice. ¡°What kind of supplies do ya want?¡±

    ¡°Dried fruit. Tired of travel bread.¡±

    Hallac laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t think I can getcha any dried fruit, but Shalla should have jam. She can probably spare a jar or two.¡±

    ¡°First we feed her and now you want others to give up what they have?¡± Yarrow protested.

    ¡°We have ta look out for people when we can.¡±

    Yarrow frowned, but didn¡¯t respond further. Elsham looked from the coin to Ferene, then back at the coin.

    ¡°Keep yer money, lass.¡± Hallac said. Ferene pocked the coin again. ¡°I¡¯ll take ya to Shalla, we can talk to her about what she has, then ya can be on ye way.¡±

    ¡°Plenty of work to do around here, wouldn¡¯t even take that long.¡±

    ¡°Tell me.¡± Ferene responded. Her urgency was only in her mind - she wanted to get to Ettsgras, to Velan, Taradira, and Tullund, but she didn¡¯t need to rush. She had pushed herself before, a short delay wouldn¡¯t make much of a difference, and these people were providing her with food and supplies.

    Yarrow immediately looked up, her shock clear on her face. She immediately hid it, considering for a moment. ¡°Take Elsham here to the fields. He¡¯ll show you the way.¡±

    The young man glanced at the woman, then nodded. As Ferene took off the armor pieces she had managed to put on, he finished his meal and took both his and her dishes away. When he joined her near the door, he eyed the sword on her waist a moment before pushing open the door and walking outside.

    Unlike the rest of the people in the village Ferene had seen, Elsham was not armed in any visible way. He led her away from the log structures, stopping at a flimsy-looking shed where he grabbed two shovels and handed one to her. Looking at the tool, Ferene saw that the flat of the shovel was more of a wide mesh, and with several prongs on the front.

    Their final destination was a rough patch of ground beyond some more usual fields. ¡°We gotta dig the rocks out.¡± He said, pointing. Ferene didn¡¯t see anything but dirt in the direction he indicated, but she kicked at the ground, finding the dirt moderately loose.

    ¡°Where are they?¡±

    ¡°Dunno.¡± He responded. ¡°Gotta find them.¡± The youth pushed the bent head of the shovel into the ground, and started dragging it along. Eventually he stopped, pushing it further into the ground, tilted it, then pulled up. A fist-sized rock rested in the bend. Elsham launched it away, using the length of the shovel to propel the stone towards the treeline.

    Ferene moved beside him and started copying his motions. It didn¡¯t take long before her shovel caught on a rock, and she pulled it out and flung it away, gently sending it around the same distance that Elsham had tossed his stone.

    The two worked in silence, and after Ferene had removed several more rocks, Elsham finally spoke up.

    ¡°If ya really tried, how far do ya reckon ya could chuck one?¡±

    Ferene shrugged in response, but the next time she pulled a rock she paused, turning to find Elsham looking at her expectantly. Turning towards where they had been throwing them, she swung her shovel with all her strength, launching the rock out of sight.

    ¡°Hope that don¡¯t hit nobody.¡± Elsham said. ¡°Yer really strong.¡± Giving him another shrug, Ferene returned to working the field.

    Giving in to the young man¡¯s request apparently dispelled his hesitation about her. ¡°Whas with yer ears?¡±

    ¡°Father is Hatharen.¡±

    ¡°Dunno wha tha is. Some kinda fairy?¡±

    Ferene frowned as she worked. ¡°What¡¯s a fairy?¡±

    ¡°Yarrow says the forest got fairies in it. They hide from people and have magic powers. If ya go out alone at night they¡¯ll steal yer soul. That happen to yer ma?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Ferene said. She didn¡¯t know how to explain what actually happened, not fast, not to someone like Elsham. Another Hatharen might understand. Velan might understand.

    ¡°So can ya hear more? Stuff far away? Like dogs can.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Whas the point then? If they don do anythin.¡±

    Ferene¡¯s thoughts immediately went to her experience with Rilya, and she blushed, then pushed the memory away, scrambling to come up with a reason. ¡°Fairies won¡¯t take my soul since they know I¡¯m like them.¡± She told him. It was close enough. The Hatharen might have left her to die, or killed her themselves, if not for her appearance.

    ¡°Thas why ya were out alone!¡±

    Apparently satisfied with her answer, Elsham returned to silence as they continued to work. When the sun reached its peak, he called for a stop. ¡°Gotta go back for lunch. Yarrow will give me somethin else ta do after. Prolly let ya leave.¡±

    ¡°Is she not your mother?¡± Ferene asked, curiosity getting the best of her. She didn¡¯t know why she cared.

    ¡°Naw.¡± He said as they walked back through the fields. ¡°Da was Uncle¡¯s older brother, Yarrow his younger sister. Ma and da died awhile back.¡±

    ¡°My mother also died when I was young.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense. She din have a soul after yer da took it.¡±

    Ferene stayed silent, and Elsham did the same. They returned their tools to the shed by the edge of the village before walking back to Hallac¡¯s cabin, where Yarrow waited outside.

    ¡°Get any work out of her?¡± The woman asked as Elsham trotted over to her.

    ¡°She¡¯s real strong. Did more¡¯n me by double, once I showed ¡®er.¡±

    ¡°Eat some of the leftovers and then find Tilly.¡±

    Elsham walked inside, leaving Ferene and Yarrow alone in front of the cabin. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯d take you to Shalla, but my leg doesn¡¯t work well. Head that way, find the place with all the plants growin outside. That¡¯s Shalla. Hallac should have told her to expect you.¡±

    Ferene walked past her, going inside to collect her things. Her armor and sword were still there. She donned it as Elsham watched between bites of bread, his curious glances no longer hesitant, instead replaced by open staring.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Soldier?¡±

    ¡°Once.¡±

    ¡°Merc? Bounty unter? Uncle told me bout those.¡±

    ¡°Something like that.¡± Ferene replied, slinging her sword onto her back. ¡°Bye.¡±

    Shalla, a short, smiling woman, had given her two clay jars, sealed with wax. One had apple jam, and the other peach. Ferene accepted them, storing them in the small pack with her bread from Grathen. After thanking the woman, she walked south, out of the village and through the fields, taking a leisurely pace. The events of the first half of the day had pushed away some of her feelings of urgency.

    Ferene was almost at the treeline when she heard a horn sound behind her. Whirling, she looked back towards the village. Something was happening there, but she couldn¡¯t tell what it was. She started running, boots slamming into the ground as she sped across the fields.

    When she could make out what was happening, Ferene came to a stop. The people were fighting, awkwardly, desperately swinging weapons at other similarly dressed and armed individuals. This was not the chaos of battle, or the slaughter of innocents, but something else entirely. It reminded her of the fights she had as a child, but on a far larger scale. None of them were trained or experienced, just swinging wildly at whoever was in front of them. Ferene couldn¡¯t even tell the two sides apart.

    Drawing her short sword from her waist, she charged in. A woman in front of her knocked a man to the ground and turned to Ferene, the axe in her hand stained red with blood. Ferene swung her sword early, slashing the air in front of the woman, causing her to flinch back. Taking the opportunity, Ferene stepped forward, grabbing the handle of the axe with her empty hand while slamming the pommel of her sword into the woman¡¯s gut. Seeing the woman drop to her knees, letting go of her weapon to hold her stomach, Ferene tossed the axe to the side.

    Not knowing who were the attackers and who were the defenders, or even why they were fighting, Ferene moved through the unorganized brawl, punching and disarming whoever turned to attack her. An arrow bounced off her spaulder, and she charged the bowman, slashing the string of his weapon before shoving him off his feet.

    Someone yelled to run away, and Ferene found the fighting come to a stop, one of the two sides retreating, stopping to drag a few of the ones she had attacked to their feet. She did not follow, instead standing her ground, watching those that stayed behind as they tended to their own wounded.

    Sheathing her sword, she reached down and pulled the archer to his feet. He looked at her, scared, and scampered away, into the village. Turning, she found another one of her targets - the woman who first attacked her - nearby, still clutching her lower abdomen. Ferene helped her to her feet, and the woman looked around, then awkwardly started stumbling in the direction of the group that ran away. One of the defenders came over, and Ferene was about to turn away before she saw the man raise his club and bring it down on the back of the woman¡¯s skull.

    Ferene froze at the sound it made, watching the woman fall, lifelessly, to the ground. The man who killed her turned, walking towards another of the people who were struggling to get up and flee.

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Ferene yelled, stepping forward, but she found herself surrounded by villagers holding their weapons, brandishing axes, clubs, and pitchforks at her. ¡°Let them leave.¡± She said, standing her ground.

    ¡°They¡¯ll come back and try again.¡± A woman said, stepping forward. ¡°Come back and kill more of us.¡±

    Ferene thought about reaching for her sword, but didn¡¯t. These were the same people who let her spend the night and gave her food. Was it right to punish them for killing the people who attacked them? ¡°Why did they attack?¡± She asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re savages. Trying to steal from us is all they know.¡±

    ¡°Ferene, com¡¯ere.¡± A voice called out. Hallac walked out of the village, unarmed, unbloodied.

    ¡°Hallac, you missed the fighting. Again. Working in the woods on the other side again?¡± A man spoke up.

    ¡°Always.¡± He said, pushing through the crowd to Ferene¡¯s side. ¡°This ere¡¯s my guest, she helped out earlier today. I¡¯ll tell¡¯er what¡¯s what.¡±

    ¡°You do that.¡± The man said. ¡°We¡¯ll clean up here.¡± He frowned at Ferene.

    She wanted to protest, to tell them to stop. Her sword felt heavy on her back. She wanted to draw it, to prevent the slaughter.

    By slaughtering these simple villagers.

    Perhaps that was what the Knights of Resh had done, in the past. Why they became feared and hated, why they died out. Perhaps that was what Ferene might have done in the past.

    Instead, she let Hallac lead her away. He and his family were the only ones in the village that hadn¡¯t been armed.

    Everyone else was waiting for this to happen.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± She asked as soon as they were away from the others. Hallac remained silent, leading her back to his home. When they closed the entrance behind them, the door to the bedroom opened, and Yarrow came out. She took one look at Ferene and sighed. ¡°Did she do it?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Hallac said, walking to the table and sitting down. ¡°She disarmed some of em, some o ours too, an spoke up when the executions started. I got er out.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Ferene asked again.

    ¡°Bad blood.¡± Yarrow said, joining her brother at the table. ¡°In our grandparent¡¯s time, some of the people in the village wanted to elect a mayor, expand the village, set up trade. Others didn¡¯t want that, they wanted to keep the village small, not be bothered by others, not deal with taxes or having a king. This place is right on the border of Ettsgras. If it grows too big, the king will claim it.

    ¡°Those that wanted to expand, to grow, were driven out. Told to make their own village. So they found a spot and did that, not too far from here. Wrong direction, though. Further into the independent lands.

    ¡°There was one bad winter and one of the two villages attacked the other, stealing food. Our people claim it was them, their people claim it was us. Ever since then this has happened again and again. Back and forth. Those out there will tally up the dead and start planning a counterattack. When I was a babe, it was only every few years. Then it was every winter. Now it¡¯s every few months. One side will die out soon.¡±

    Ferene looked at Yarrow, seeing her much calmer, defeated, rather than tense and irritated. ¡°You don¡¯t fight.¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t gonna contribute to that. Ain¡¯t gonna let Elsham get pulled into it. M¡¯brother and his wife died to that. Yarrow¡¯s sweetheart too.¡±

    ¡°Tell her about Elly, Hallac.¡±

    The man glared at his sister, then let out a sigh. ¡°Elly was m¡¯wife. ¡®Er da wanted to end the fightin, by winnin. He wanted to burn down their village. She went with him, to keep him safe. Never came back. Used to have big families livin round ere, now jus a handful in each house. Won¡¯t stop until the houses are empty.¡±

    ¡°Was hoping you¡¯d be gone before anyone noticed your gear. Shalla¡¯s like us, doesn¡¯t want to fight. If anyone else started talking to you, they¡¯d want a real soldier fighting on our side. To turn things around. When the fighting started not long after you left, I was worried you¡¯d come back and pick a side.¡±

    Ferene fell silent, thinking. From the explanation, there was no true fault here. Not with the living. She wasn¡¯t going to wipe out two villages of untrained people armed with sharpened farming tools.

    ¡°What if this stopped?¡± She asked.

    ¡°How doya plan to do tha?¡± Hallac asked. Ferene saw Elsham peaking around the frame of the bedroom door.

    ¡°If you could talk to them, could you convince them to stop?¡±

    Hallac sighed. ¡°Maybe. Who knows. They¡¯ll kill us ¡®fore we can get close.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t let them.¡± Ferene said.

    ¡°They might kill you.¡± He responded, frowning at her.

    ¡°If I fall, run.¡± Ferene¡¯s failures had resulted in people dying. Right here, right now, she wanted to do something that would make less people die. Without killing anyone. ¡°Do you want Elsham to grow up in fear of the next attack?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fifteen.¡± He protested from the door.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go, lass, but I need ta talk to people here first.¡±

    ¡°Do that.¡± Ferene said, standing up. Leaving, she went back to the field where the fight happened. There was blood in the dirt, but someone had carried away the bodies. Taking her sword off her back, she slammed it, point first, into the dirt. With her hands on the hilt, she stood in the field, waiting. A few of the villagers looked at her and scurried away.

    Hallac arrived, another man with him. ¡°This is Rolf. He¡¯s coming with us.¡±

    Ferene looked over the newcomer. Likely older than Hallac, slightly taller, almost equal in height to Ferene. He had a knife on his belt. ¡°No weapons.¡± She said, pointing.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got some.¡± He protested.

    ¡°I do the fighting, you do the talking.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± He said, tossing it away carelessly. Ferene pulled her sword out of the ground, tapped it against her boot to shake the dirt off, and stowed it on her back. The two watched her, then stepped past, leading the way.

    The other village was barely half a day away. It was night when they arrived, and Hallac pulled out his lantern, lighting their approach. As they got near the torchlit village, seven people came forward, holding axes and pitchforks.

    ¡°We jus wan ta talk!¡± Hallac said, holding his hands up. In one he held the lantern, the other was empty. Rolf did the same.

    ¡°Who is this one, then?¡± One of them asked.

    ¡°We saw her earlier. She came in, hittin anyone who got close, takin their weapons away.¡± A woman said. ¡°What side you on?¡±

    ¡°My own.¡± Ferene said. ¡°If anyone tries to hurt anyone else, I¡¯ll take care of them.¡±

    There was a pause, the seven people from the other village grouping up and whispering to each other. ¡°You here to make us talk by force?¡±

    ¡°I ain¡¯t never raised a weapon against one o yers. I want it to end. Ya don¡¯t want to talk, I¡¯ll stay here till I die o hunger. As the soldier says, she won¡¯t fight if ya if ya don¡¯t try nothin.¡±

    Ferene stayed silent, watching the two groups stare each other down.

    ¡°You got an idea how to end it?¡± A woman asked.

    Hallac lowered his arms. ¡°Know it ain¡¯t as easy as just agreein to stop. We all look at each other an see someone we lost. My brother is one, but I know if we keep fightin the son he left behind will end up just as dead. Why don¡¯t we start by actin civil and not discussin this out ere in the cold?¡±

    Another round of glances, ending with several of the villagers looking at Ferene. ¡°Wha bout her?¡±

    ¡°If you are talking I don¡¯t need to be there. If it becomes something other than talking¡­¡± She raised her hand, grabbing the hilt of the sword on her back. They all visibly tensed.

    ¡°Let¡¯s sit down and talk about it, then.¡±

    Ferene followed them into the village, finding it just like the other one. Simple log cabins, a few torches lighting the spaces in between. They were obviously on the lookout for a counter attack. Ferene found several armed villagers watching her warily, even after they were informed of the situation. Hallac, Rolf, and two of the residents went into a cabin to discuss things, leaving the other five to go back to watching. Three of them stared at Ferene.

    She stared back, and waited, listening to the sounds of the wind and the crackling torches. These were not trained killers - if there was violence, it would be loud. Her watchers grew bored and wandered off, leaving her with only one - a girl who looked to be around the same age as Elsham, holding what looked like a hammer with two spiked heads. She was trembling, having been left alone to watch a hulking, armored, well-armed outsider.

    ¡°You ever swing that at a person?¡± Ferene asked. The girl shook her head, adjusting her grip. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have to. What¡¯s it for?¡±

    ¡°Breakin ground.¡± The girl mumbled.

    ¡°Tell me about that.¡±

    Her eyes went wide. ¡°Dirt too hard for shovels. Break it up.¡±

    Ferene nodded. ¡°People in the other village had me pulling rocks out of a field to pay for the food I ate.¡±

    ¡°They killed my parents.¡±

    ¡°You killed that boy¡¯s parents.¡±

    ¡°I never killed nobody.¡±

    ¡°Neither did he.¡± Ferene shot back. The girl looked away. ¡°That¡¯s why they are trying to talk and find a way to stop. Before you kill or get killed.¡±

    ¡°You ain¡¯t from here. You don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Show me the hard dirt.¡± The girl looked at her in confusion. ¡°Take me to some.¡±

    ¡°R-right here.¡± She said, tapping her foot. ¡°Ain¡¯t no good for planting.¡±

    Ferene stood up, and the girl stepped back. As fast as she could, Ferene reached up, drew her sword from her back, and slammed it, point first, into the ground at her feet. The tip sunk in, and she pulled it back up. The girl stared at her in terror, knuckles white as she held her tool in front of her. ¡°Swords aren¡¯t good for farm work. That thing won¡¯t be good for killing. Nobody here is good at fighting, so don¡¯t do it. Leave it to people who are.¡± She sheathed her sword, and the girl nodded, looking at the tool in her hands.

 Manager of Misfits - 3: Deployment

    ¡°She¡¯s out there again, boss.¡±

    ¡°She isn¡¯t our problem. Tell the Lieutenant.¡±

    Rella¡¯s mercenaries always went to her first. Tullund had accepted that as an inevitability, but it still annoyed him. At the very least, Rella now called him by his rank. Stopping what he was doing, he turned to look at the mercenary leader. ¡°Something wrong?¡±

    ¡°Past week one of the Hatharen ladies has been going over to that rise outside the camp when the sun sets. Stays there for a few hours, comes back late. There¡¯s supposed to be a curfew, but the rules don¡¯t apply to them. The regular are getting cranky about it.¡± Rella explained.

    Tullund shrugged. ¡°Tell them to take it up with the General.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re spoiled by my people, kid.¡±

    Tullund immediately gave her his full attention. ¡°What do you suggest I do, Rella?¡±

    He did not miss the smile on her face in the flickering torchlight. ¡°The Hatharen are troops under your leadership. Find a way to make them follow the rules. My troops follow my orders, your troops should follow yours.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go talk to her.¡±

    Nenhal was, as reported, on top of a grassy hill a decent walk south of the camp, laying on her back. She sat up as Tullund approached, turning to look at him. ¡°Please cover the light.¡±

    He looked down at the lantern he held, then back at her. ¡°Tell me why you are here, and I might.¡±

    The Hatharen pointed upwards. ¡°The stars.¡± He looked up, then back at her, waiting for a further explanation. She stared at him for a moment. ¡°I grew up in the forest. I couldn¡¯t see them like this.¡±

    Nodding, Tullund dropped the cover over the lantern, leaving them with only the light of the moon and the stars. ¡°You can¡¯t stay out here as late as you do. All the soldiers are supposed to be back in the camp before midnight.¡±

    ¡°How long until then?¡±

    ¡°Hour and a half, if you want to get back in time.¡±

    She lay back down, staring upwards. ¡°I¡¯ll be there.¡±

    For several moments, he stood completely still, considering. Then he walked over and sat down beside her, looking upwards. ¡°I was born in the north. The stars here look different. I hadn¡¯t noticed before. I stopped really looking at them.¡±

    ¡°You are a strange people.¡±

    ¡°So are you.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know so many people could even exist. There are less than fifty in the forest. Now even less than that. Most of the sixth circle came with me.¡±

    ¡°What is the sixth circle? If you can tell me.¡± He understood there was some secret they were keeping. Ferene had been the same, the second time he met her. Something about her people was not discussed with humans.

    Nenhal surprised him. ¡°The sixth set of children. The youngest. The elders would not leave. There is safety in our home.¡±

    ¡°Taradira is sending you to war.¡±

    ¡°We will learn how to fight. There is another war we have to win.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the one humans can¡¯t know about.¡± He provided. She didn¡¯t respond. They sat in silence, looking up at the stars.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to pretend you didn¡¯t come back from spending hours alone with another woman.¡± Lily said.

    ¡°She went out on her own and I had to find her and bring her back. We had a discussion about the reason for her outings and I explained to her that she could not spend entire nights outside the camp. She is one of my subordinates.¡±

    She remained sitting cross-legged on her cot, pouting. ¡°A very tall one. Am I not tall enough for you?¡±

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°You talk too much for me.¡± He said, laying down. ¡°Get some sleep, Lily.¡±

    The next morning, he was summoned by the general. She was waiting for him, alone, in the command tent. A massive table sat in front of her, a map of the area between Celngi and Ettsgras spread over it. ¡°Ah, Tullund, good. I have important news. I brought your proposal of using unorthodox tactics to the king.¡±

    He froze, going completely stiff. ¡°How did his Majesty react?¡±

    She didn¡¯t look up, instead studying the map. ¡°I¡¯m stripping you of your rank and discharging you from the army. Remove your jacket and put it on the table.¡±

    He did so, feeling a dryness in his mouth.

    ¡°After a small amount of consideration, I decided that it is too much effort to reassign your troops to another lieutenant. The mercenaries are being freed from their contract.¡±

    He nodded. His head was buzzing. ¡°And the Hatharen?¡±

    ¡°They were never a part of the military in any form. Nothing needs to be done about them.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°As you are no longer part of the Ettsgras army, you are turn in everything we have provided to you, the mercenaries, and the Hatharen. Every tent, every uniform, even your boots. Anything that would identify you as part of the army.¡±

    ¡°Yes General.¡±

    ¡°Then I want you all to leave.¡±

    Mentally, it felt like she had just slapped him. Back to his senses. He opened his eyes, looking at the map, where she was looking. ¡°Of course, General. Do you have any suggestions as to where we should go?¡±

    ¡°Your suggestion was so insulting to proper military sensibilities, I was told to draw up papers branding you a criminal. You should leave the country. You could go north, but it would be very easy to go east.¡±

    Towards Celngi. ¡°Of course. Since my troops are no longer under my command, I¡¯m sure they will spread out into several small groups.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s none of my business.¡± Taradira said, still not looking at him, but he could almost hear a smile in her voice.

    ¡°If there is nothing else, I will inform them of the bad news, then.¡± He said.

    ¡°Good luck, Tullund.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, General.¡±

    Back at section Two Three Six, Tullund called everyone together. All of Rella¡¯s mercenaries, the handful of Hatharen, and Lily. They all pulled together, as tight as they could, shoulder to shoulder to listen to him.

    ¡°All of this, we¡¯re giving it back. You will be refunded. If they object, tell them it¡¯s on the General¡¯s orders.¡±

    Rella crossed her arms, frowning as she regarded him. ¡°Why are we moving out without any tents?¡±

    ¡°Because we won¡¯t be needing them. All of us are out of a job. Taradira has discharged me and freed you all from your contract.¡±

    The mercenaries reacted in a number of different ways. Shock, laughter, or just confusion. ¡°Is that supposed to be a good thing, Tullund?¡±

    He smiled. ¡°Of course. It means we no longer need to follow their rules. We are going east, to Celngi. We¡¯re going to find a number of places to make camps, and split into three groups. We¡¯ll launch raids on the supply lines of the Celngi forces.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said we weren¡¯t out of a job.¡± One of the mercenaries said.

    ¡°Shut up and listen to him.¡± Rella snapped.

    ¡°As a group of ill-tempered, poorly organized but heavily armed and well trained brigands, we¡¯ll steal all sorts of supplies. This might weaken their defensive positions ahead of an attack by Ettsgras, but that¡¯s a completely unintended side effect. We¡¯re just looking to line our own pockets. They also might send some of their troops after us, which is why we¡¯ll have set up multiple different camps to use. Common criminals like us wouldn¡¯t want to be caught.¡±

    Slowly, the mercenaries were nodding or smiling. Tullund couldn¡¯t help but do the same.

    ¡°We are going to be fighting a war?¡± Nenhal asked. The Hatharen didn¡¯t seem to grasp it the same way that everyone else did.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see. In the meantime, start getting prepared. Some people should go into the city and find travel supplies with foreign designs, imported stuff, to replace any gear you¡¯ll need. Again, no tents. We¡¯ll make do with improvised camps.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sending me away?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m putting you in the third group. With Frederick.¡±

    Lily continued her pacing. ¡°Why? Why can¡¯t I stay with you?¡±

    ¡°I told you already. Rella is in charge of one group, Frederick is in charge of a second, and I¡¯m in charge of the last. I¡¯ll have the Hatharen with me, and whatever mercenaries are left over. I need you with Frederick because I don¡¯t know him as well as I know Rella.¡±

    She turned again, pacing back the other direction. ¡°What if I run away? If I don¡¯t serve out my punishment? What¡¯ll you do then?¡±

    ¡°Lily. I¡¯m trusting you with something. Drop the act.¡±

    She let out a deep breath, and stopped. ¡°You said you couldn¡¯t trust me. You¡¯re putting me in the hands of someone else. I wanted you to protect me. You are taking me into enemy territory and then going off on your own. I¡¯m the only one who doesn¡¯t know how to fight! You might as well be killing me yourself.¡±

    Standing up, he stared down at her. ¡°Two people who couldn¡¯t fight were murdered by a trained soldier. Two of my friends. Do you know why they were murdered by a soldier?¡±

    She looked away from him. ¡°Because of the person I was helping. Because I didn¡¯t turn him in. Because I was a coward. You hate me.¡±

    ¡°You only wanted to live.¡± He said, and she looked up at him in confusion. ¡°I said I couldn¡¯t trust you before, but I am giving you a chance. You¡¯ve helped me here. You are part of this¡­team.¡± He had to think of a better description for the combination of Hatharen and unemployed mercenaries. ¡°I don¡¯t hate you, despite how annoying you are. Do your best out there.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°I will. Thank you.¡±

 Chapter 12, Book 2: At Long Last, a Rest

    ¡°We¡¯re done ¡®ere.¡±

    Ferene turned, seeing Hallac and Rolf emerging from the house. She looked the man in the eyes, and he nodded at her. ¡°Fightin¡¯s over.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be going, then.¡± Ferene said, looking towards the south.

    ¡°Wait.¡± Rolf stepped forward. ¡°Ya did so much for¡¯s. We gott-¡°

    ¡°I have to go.¡± Ferene interrupted. Before he could say anything else, she burst into a run. Weaving through the village, Ferene¡¯s feet carried her across the fields, leaving the startled residents behind.

    Whatever happened there felt wrong. By not taking a side, by giving them a chance to talk, she had saved lives. Yet it didn¡¯t feel like an accomplishment. It didn¡¯t feel like something she could say that she had done right.

    It didn¡¯t feel like something that would make up for all she had done wrong.

    She was running again. Before Hallac and Elsham had woken her up, she ran from the same thoughts. They were back again. A foe she could not fight, a foe that would not kill her. She could not kill her thoughts and leave them behind just as she could not give up and let them kill her.

    Was this how Linara felt, during their duel? Consumed by her own thoughts to the point where she wanted to fight someone, anyone, not caring about winning or losing, just wanting to get the anger out?

    Ferene slowed, thoughts coming together in her mind. She had fought all her life. Would doing that do the same thing for her that it did for Linara? For a moment she thought about standing in front of Taradira, her sword drawn, staring down the massive Hatharen.

    She shook her head. No, fighting would not make her feel better. She needed something different. Somewhere deep inside, she knew what it was. It happened before.

    She needed to talk to someone.

    Her feet stopped moving. Ferene managed to avoid falling over, just barely. She had talked to Linara, but¡­that wasn¡¯t it. Velan was the only person she was truly at ease talking to. She remembered holding him and crying, telling him about what happened to Amelia. His words to her.

    She couldn¡¯t save everyone. That¡¯s what he told her.

    She was sure she could have saved Cerise.

    She wished he was here.

    He was in Ettsgras. That¡¯s where she was going. Taking a deep breath, she started walking again, then running. Not frantic like before, but with long, measured strides. Ettsgras was her destination, but she had a purpose. She wasn¡¯t hoping that Taradira or Velan would have a solution for her. Velan was her solution. Right now, she just wanted to talk to him. To tell him what happened. She could talk to him, the way she couldn¡¯t talk to anyone else. Ferene didn¡¯t know why. Whenever she talked to Tullund at length, it felt wrong. She felt distant from Linara, in some way. Even Cerise wasn¡¯t easy to talk to, but Velan she could. With him, it was easy. Right now, that was what she needed.

    So she ran, not away from what she had done, but towards what she wanted.

    Ettsgras stood on top of the wide hill, just as before. Approaching from the northwest, the army camp was hidden from her view, but the path leading to the gate was, just like before, filled with a long line of people, animals, carts, and wagons. Ferene approached, falling in with the rest of the travelers, patiently waiting her turn.

    As she got closer, she found herself directed into a separate line for foot traffic, a much smaller side gate that was still big enough to allow four people to pass through at once. Ferene and the other travelers made a much faster pace in this line.

    ¡°Name? Foreign soldiers looking to join up?¡±

    ¡°Ferene. Visiting a friend.¡±

    The guard that questioned her frowned, his eyes going to her weapons, then lingering on her ears. ¡°Who is your friend?¡±

    ¡°Velan. At the university.¡±

    ¡°Your relation to him?¡±

    Ferene hesitated. The last time she hadn¡¯t been asked this much. ¡°Former bodyguard.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll be safe in the university. Don¡¯t think he needs a bodyguard.¡±

    ¡°I want to talk to my friend.¡± Ferene said. The guard shrugged, and let her pass.

    Ferene found her way back to the imposing university building. Another guard stopped her, and she repeated her intention, but was turned down this time.

    ¡°Guests aren¡¯t allowed in just to visit members. If you want to leave a message, it can be relayed.¡±

    Ferene frowned. ¡°Tell him that Ferene will be waiting at the inn we used before.¡±

    The guard grinned at her and nodded.

    Leaving, Ferene made her way through the streets to the tall, extravagant building they had stayed in. She drew eyes from some of the other guests as she approached the innkeeper and arranged for a room. When it came time to pay, she once again brought out the coin Varrot gave her.

    ¡°How long do you plan on staying here?¡± The well-dressed, middle aged man asked, picking up the coin and inspecting it.

    ¡°A week. For now.¡±

    ¡°Could stay for a lot longer than that, with this. Would be better to find a moneychanger and get something local if you¡¯re looking to make small purchases.¡±

    ¡°Where?¡±

    The man gave her some directions, and Ferene set out again. A few streets away she found a small but well-maintained building tucked between two larger ones. She had to step downward as she entered, finding a simple desk with an elderly man seated behind it. She wordlessly placed her coin on the desk in front of him.

    ¡°Wellent, huh?¡± He said, poking the coin, sliding it but not picking it up. ¡°Stay here for a moment.¡± He stood up, pulling open a hatch in the floor to reveal a staircase. The old man descended into darkness, leaving Ferene alone. A few minutes later he came back up, and dropped two gold squares on the table, as well as a small pouch, which he spread open to reveal a small pile of hexagons inside. He pushed them across the desk towards Ferene. ¡°My grandson ran his way up there. Said the girls are prettier there. Any truth to that?¡±

    Ferene¡¯s thoughts went to Cerise, and she clenched her jaw shut, simply nodding at him. He didn¡¯t say anything further, instead picking up her coin. Ferene took the man¡¯s money and left.

    She properly paid for a room, going up to it and looking around, once again seeing the fancy, delicate-looking furniture and the overly soft bed. She sighed. It felt empty without Velan here. She wondered how long it would take him to show up.

    If he would show up at all.

    The thought came to her, unwelcome. Would he even care about her any more? What was his life like now, and did he need to be reminded of her, killing people in front of him? Leaving without saying goodbye?

    Taking a deep breath, she sat down on the bed, sinking into the mattress slightly. He was someone she had been able to talk to. To be open with. What was she to him?

    Suddenly, Ferene stood up, looking around the room. There was a large piece of furniture against one wall, with a mirror on the front, reaching from near the floor to almost her face. She moved in front of it, far enough back to see her full reflection.

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    At some point, she had changed.

    No longer did she wear stolen clothes, taken from the people she had killed and washed of their blood. Her clothes fit her properly, the cloak she had received in Wellent showing some wear after her careless journey from there to here, but still better than anything she had worn before.

    Ferene cared what Velan thought of her. Beyond just if he was scared of her, or if he would attack her. When had she started doing that? When she first met Tullund, she didn¡¯t think about things like that. She separated from him when she could, not learning about him. Had she ever stopped to think about what Linara thought of her?

    Rilya was different. They didn¡¯t need to know. Those kinds of thoughts didn¡¯t matter. Doubts filled her mind. What did Rilya think now, since Ferene couldn¡¯t return? Suddenly she wanted to be back there, to wrap her arms around the taller Hatharen, to hold her close.

    Turning away from the mirror, Ferene stared back at the bed. She had come here on her own, to this place that she never would have picked before. Never would have been able to stay in.

    Her thoughts drifted to Cerise, again. Her time with the princess, when she didn¡¯t want to let her be too close, but didn¡¯t forcefully push her away.

    Ferene found it hard to breathe.

    There was a knock at the door, and the moment was over. She moved to it instantly, pulling it open. Velan stood there, smiling at her. She opened her mouth, trying to say something. Anything.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be back.¡± He said to her,

    She grabbed him, pulling him towards her, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± She whispered.

    ¡°Do you want to talk about what happened?¡± He asked, doing his best to hug her back with his arms pinned to his sides.

    ¡°Yes.¡± She said, letting go of him. He stepped into the room, and she closed the door behind him. ¡°I¡­¡± She started, then stopped, wondering what to even say. He just smiled at her, waiting patiently. ¡°It happened again.¡±

    For a moment, he didn¡¯t react, then he nodded, reaching out and taking her hand. ¡°Tell me.¡±

    Sitting down side by side on the bed, Ferene told him about Cerise. He stayed quiet, listening to her talk. Finding her, protecting her on the way north, their time together in Olentor, the journey back down, and the fight at the fort. Her mistakes. Yenra¡¯s reaction. At the end of it, he was still holding her hand.

    ¡°It keeps happening.¡± Ferene said.

    ¡°Do you think people just stop making mistakes?¡± Velan asked. Ferene frowned at him, confused. ¡°You will make a mistake, and then another, and then another. You¡¯ll do your best to avoid making the same mistake twice, but it isn¡¯t always something you can avoid. You are thinking, what if you had been there, to protect her, to save her. Right?¡±

    Ferene nodded.

    ¡°What if at the end of the day both you and her were dead?¡± Ferene froze, her body tense. ¡°I know that you can fight, but you haven¡¯t always won, have you? What if you lost there? You lived. Not from cowardice - you weren¡¯t hiding, but trying your best to help. Things happened the way they did, and there is nothing you can do about it.¡±

    ¡°It keeps happening.¡± Ferene said. ¡°I leave someone and they die. Cerise died when I wasn¡¯t there. Amelia died when I wasn¡¯t there. Jall died when I wasn¡¯t there.¡±

    ¡°Who is Jall?¡± He asked.

    Ferene¡¯s breath caught in her throat. She hadn¡¯t wanted to say that. ¡°He¡­he relied on me. He was the first.¡±

    ¡°Tell me about him.¡±

    Ferene hesitated, then took a deep breath, and started talking.

    Jall was one of the other children that grew up in the bandit camp with her. He was a runt. They all called him that. Short, weak, and pathetic. Fairly early on the adults stopped making him take part in the practice fights the children had, since he would never win. It wasn¡¯t entertaining. That didn¡¯t stop Jall from trying, though. The adults taught him to steal rather than fight.

    After her mother died, Jall was the only one that talked to Ferene about it. She couldn¡¯t even remember what he said, just that he tried. After that, Ferene tried to protect him whenever she could. When she got her sword from the knight on the road, Jall was the only one she told what she was going to do. She told him to get ready to leave, and when she killed the bandit leader, she left with him, running away with her sword and some money she stole, leaving the rest of the camp to fall apart without leadership.

    When they arrived in a nearby city, she gave half of the money to Jall, told him to buy food and clothes. They would make a new life for themselves. She remembered him smiling up at her, looking so happy before they went off in different directions.

    The next time she saw him, he was dead. His limp, bloodstained body hanging in a square in the center of the city. Executed and set on display, a warning to anyone else as to what happens if you get caught stealing from merchants in the city. Ferene didn¡¯t know why he would do that. What he had been thinking, what he had tried to steal. Only that the closest thing she had to a friend was dead, another common criminal, just like the ones she had been trying to escape from. He was a thief and would always be one, just as she was a killer and would always be one.

    ¡°What do you think he would say if he saw you now?¡± Velan asked after Ferene finished her story.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Dressed like this, staying in a place like this. Strong. Still alive. A traveler that has seen more than most people will in their lives. A survivor. Someone who saved people. Tell me, how many people have you saved?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°You saved me, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Ferene said.

    ¡°And after that? Did you save anyone after you left?¡±

    Krista. ¡°There was a girl. A slave. I think she would have died if I wasn¡¯t there.¡±

    ¡°What would Jall say if he knew you saved her? Saved me?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± What would Jall have said? She couldn¡¯t even think of it. What had he thought of her? She had just wanted to help him. He wasn¡¯t a killer, not like the rest of the people in the camp. That¡¯s all she remembered.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re a hero, Ferene. A real one, one that makes mistakes. One that isn¡¯t infallible, isn¡¯t perfect, but is just a person doing the best she can, even when things go wrong. You didn¡¯t stop after what happened to Jall. You didn¡¯t stop after what happened to Amelia. You didn¡¯t stop after what happened to Cerise.¡±

    Ferene stayed silent, and Velan raised his hand, slowly stroking her hair, before moving upwards, touching her head. ¡°I know you¡¯re trying. Tell me more. You¡¯ve helped others, haven¡¯t you? Even after all the times you failed, you don¡¯t stop trying.¡±

    ¡°I met someone who told me about the Knights of Resh. More about them. I think they were bad people, even if they wanted the right thing. Like me. But I would have fought them. They would have fought me.¡± She wasn¡¯t looking at him, but could feel him beside her. With one hand, he held hers, and with his other he gently rubbed her head. He did all this for her. ¡°Do you like it here?¡±

    A small laugh. ¡°It is interesting. I¡¯m learning a lot. They will let me learn whatever I want. There are multiple libraries, for different subjects. I have to learn some amount of useful things, then go out into the world and teach what I have learned, spreading the knowledge to the people, improving lives, while also gaining more knowledge. Eventually, I will come back, and write down what I have learned for the next students to build on.¡±

    Ferene had no idea how any of that worked. She nodded. ¡°What did you learn?¡±

    He took his hand off her head, instead making a gesture with it, spreading his fingers and then closing his fist. ¡°Farming techniques, mostly. There are a vast amount of different methods, for different types of land. I want to bring some back to my village, to improve that. It is part of the deal.¡±

    Ferene remembered the gardens on the sides of the mountains in Yonthal. Did the humans know how to do that? Could he learn from the Hatheren there, or teach them how to do it better? They would never let him in. She wanted to help him, but couldn¡¯t. ¡°I wish I could help.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t even be here if it wasn¡¯t for you. I¡¯d be dead on the road, my things stolen from me. The books I brought were added to libraries and helped me earn a place inside. The gift you left me was also helpful. I didn¡¯t even have to sell it. There are a lot of uses for quicksilver and they were happy to have a sample.¡±

    Ferene nodded.

    ¡°I was really worried when you weren¡¯t there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    He paused. ¡°I thought that maybe I had done something wrong.¡±

    ¡°I¡­there¡¯s¡­there¡¯s a woman that I love. Someone else. Far away from here.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°And there¡¯s you.¡± Ferene blushed. ¡°Is that too many?¡±

    Again, he laughed. ¡°You¡¯re a hero, Ferene. What kind of hero doesn¡¯t have a lover in every major city?¡±

    She blinked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a¡­well, part of the idea. I can¡¯t fault others for seeing you the same way, or you for liking others.¡±

    She turned to look at him. ¡°I can¡¯t talk to anyone else the way I can talk to you. Like this. It feels good to talk to you. I wanted to see you just to talk.¡±

    He frowned, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°Just to talk? No other reason?¡±

    She nodded, and he let out a sigh. ¡°Ferene, I want to do a lot more with you than just talk. I want to lay you down, naked, and kiss you all over. Is that a problem?¡±

    She hadn¡¯t even thought of that. What he had done for her before. What he allowed her to do. Apparently he had been considering the opposite. ¡°I¡­I¡¯m dirty.¡±

    ¡°Then go bathe. I¡¯ll still be here when you get back.¡±

    Nodding, Ferene took off her armor, before leaving the room.

    ¡°Are you busy? Can you stay?¡±

    ¡°I could ask you the same thing.¡± Velan replied. She had her arms wrapped around him, his back against her chest.

    ¡°I mean, when do you need to go back to your books?¡±

    ¡°I can stay the night, and I¡¯ll be here in the morning. Will you?¡± He asked, and Ferene felt guilty.

    She squeezed him, pressing him against her tightly. ¡°I will. I want to go and talk to¡­the general, but I can wait a few days. A week, maybe.¡±

    She could feel him breathing, slowly, calmly. ¡°You don¡¯t need to wait that long. I will enjoy my time with you, but I won¡¯t keep you. I can visit you everyday. Just promise me that you¡¯ll come visit me again sometime.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± She wanted to, but she hesitated. ¡°I¡¯ll try to come back. I promise that I¡¯ll try. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯ll do, where I¡¯ll go, how long it will take.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good enough.¡±

 Chapter 13, Book 2: Determination

    ¡°I think she hates me.¡±

    Linara paused in the middle of loading the wagon with new supplies for their trip back to look at Aldram. ¡°It¡¯s good that you can think.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t funny, Linara.¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°You probably did or said something mildly stupid and hurt her feelings, and you feel bad about it because you are leaving and you don¡¯t want the last interaction to be something that ended badly. So you are overthinking it.¡±

    He glared at her, but nodded.

    ¡°So tell me what you did.¡±

    He immediately blushed, looking down. ¡°We were kissing and I froze.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I started thinking about¡­a lot of things. Involving her. I got scared.¡±

    Linara held back a grin. ¡°What kind of things?¡±

    ¡°Our future. Together. How it wouldn¡¯t work. How one of us would have to give up what we are doing. I felt bad. She looked angry, and we haven¡¯t spoken since. We¡¯re leaving today. I don¡¯t want to end it like that.¡±

    Frowning at the young knight, Linara straightened her back, standing tall. ¡°You are a representative of Olentor, in charge of guarding important diplomats. The mission was massively successful. We have a list of supplies to gather and send here once we return. You gained valuable knowledge about the training methods of our new allies. You even learned how to kiss. Act like the victorious warrior you are. Would Rilren want to see you sulking and listen to your whining?¡±

    Aldram mirrored her posture, standing up and meeting her eyes. ¡°I could have done better when it came to winning the hearts and minds of our neighbors.¡± He said, his voice level and clear.

    ¡°Then go correct your mistake. I¡¯ll finish up here, and then gather the rest of our party. If you aren¡¯t back by then, I will go and find you and drag you back here, regardless of what you might be in the middle of. So make things quick.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Linara.¡±

    She double checked the supplies, making sure they had enough for the trip back. Vendel showed up, climbing into the carriage after exchanging greetings with her. His aides followed shortly after, with the soldiers not long after that. They all waited for Aldram.

    Eventually, he came trotting out of the manor, his face neutral. Climbing onto his horse, he nodded to Linara. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving.¡±

    ¡°I take it things went well?¡±

    ¡°I explained it to her. We talked about things.¡± Aldram replied. The two rode side by side in front of the rest of their entourage.

    ¡°How do you feel?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Frustrated. Sad. We both want more, but¡­she seemed to have already accepted it.¡±

    Linara nodded. ¡°But you haven¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°The only thing I wanted was to be a knight. I worked as hard as I could for it. I want to be with her just as much, but¡­I can¡¯t do anything about it.¡±

    She chuckled. ¡°A few days of kissing and you¡¯re this attached to her?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t make fun of me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not. I was the same way. There was one person I wanted to be with, more than anything. I couldn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t accept it. First I ran away from it, then I came back and forced my way in, not caring what happened. Then I realized I was wrong. I learned to accept it. I completely understand how you feel.¡±

    Aldram fell silent, staring at the road ahead. Linara didn¡¯t say anything either, thinking back on how she felt before, and how she felt now. She wondered if she had truly gotten over her feelings, or was just going through another stage of pushing them aside, in a new way, tricking herself again.

    ¡°The rumors are true, then?¡±

    ¡°Some of them.¡±

    He looked at her, his eyes wide, then turned his focus forward. She frowned, then smiled, forming an idea.

    Linara, Aldram, and Vendel stood in front of Senral¡¯s desk, the king leaning back in his chair, looking at the three of them. ¡°Success?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± Vendel spoke first, bowing. ¡°We have secured Celkeish as an ally willing to defend our western border, if we provide them with material assistance, and, if an immediate threat appears, military aid.¡±

    ¡°What of them lending us forces in the event of an invasion from the south?¡±

    Standing again, Vendel shook his head. ¡°Regrettably, their forces are mostly militia headed by a small number of trained soldiers. Any assistance they could provide in a far off conflict would be minimal at best, so I sacrificed that part.¡±

    Senral waved his hand. ¡°Fair enough. What are we providing them with?¡±

    ¡°Basic weapons and armor. We have a surplus that we can replace far faster than they can produce their own at this point in time. With our help they can start training a proper militia far sooner.¡±

    ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Horses.¡±

    Leaned forward, Senral frowned. ¡°Which ones?¡±

    ¡°Twenty five from the third line. Twenty working, and five stallions. Fifty from the fourth line.¡±

    Senral relaxed, frowning thoughtfully. ¡°They would have to provide their own mares, then.¡±

    ¡°Yes. The twenty would not be used for patrolling but emergency measures. The fifty would serve a more general purpose.¡±

    ¡°It is a small price to pay. Tell me about their forces. How competent are they?¡±

    Vendel went silent, turning to Aldram, who bowed. The three had discussed how this would go. ¡°The trained men are divided into three groups. The manor guards, the city watch, and the outer patrols. I was most familiar with the manor guards, observing their daily training, but members of the other two groups often joined them. They are dedicated and well coordinated. There are several mercenaries and former knights there. Their numbers are small, especially considering the size of the city. They might not be able to put an army in the field, but they could easily make occupying the city or using it as a staging area a difficult proposition. Which is why they need to form a proper militia.¡±

    Nodding, Senral tapped his hand against the desk. ¡°Will the people do that if Felden demands it? My understanding of the city is that they have violently opposed such actions in the past and survived by remaining neutral.¡±

    ¡°He won the hearts of the people.¡± Linara finally spoke up. ¡°He is liked far more than the factions he fought against to gain his position, and the people truly believe they are better off with him in charge. There is no person that could replace him, and they do not want to go back to the way things were. A show of successful negotiation with us would only further solidify his position.¡±

    ¡°Hence giving him what we agreed upon.¡± Senral filled in. ¡°Very well, it sounds like we have things sorted out. You are dismissed. Linara, stay here. We have more to discuss.¡±

    Vendel and Aldram left, and Senral gestured towards one of the other chairs. Linara moved it in front of the desk and sat down. ¡°What do you think of Aldram?¡± The king asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s a good man.¡±

    ¡°His parents died due to a mistake my father made. A village on the southeastern border asked for assistance, but the forces he sent arrived too late. Slavers raided the village, capturing everyone and taking them south. When our soldiers caught up with them, they executed the adults and left the children alive, hoping that taking care of them would give them time to escape.¡±

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    ¡°Nobody escapes Olentor¡¯s cavalry.¡± Linara said. Their horses were their strongest weapon.

    ¡°Thirty two children. When Aldram wanted to join the Royal Guard, I made sure to give him a chance. He failed the test the first time, but passed the second time. He earned his place. He even caught Rilren¡¯s attention, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve learned.¡±

    Linara nodded. ¡°He is very skilled.¡±

    ¡°So how did he do?¡±

    ¡°He has well placed confidence.¡±

    Senral snorted. ¡°Be honest with me.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a sheltered idealist that is quickly learning there is more to world than how well he can swing a sword. He¡¯s overqualified as a fighter and underdeveloped as an adult.¡±

    The King smiled. ¡°Tell me more.¡±

    Linara fell back into her old schedule, spending a lot of time training herself and overseeing the training of others. She sparred with Rilren, and even Edmon showed up for a match.

    ¡°Where have you been these past months?¡± She asked him.

    The man shrugged. ¡°The king learned all I could teach him, and I was allowed to wander, as long as I come back here twice a year, to know if I¡¯m needed.¡±

    ¡°Enjoying your time in Olentor?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Nice country. Lots of horses.¡±

    Linara held back a snort at his observation. Before she could ask him any more questions, a servant approached her. ¡°Lady Linara, her highness Yenra has requested your presence in her meeting room.¡± The girl fidgeted, stumbling over the words.

    ¡°Of course.¡± Linara smiled at her as she stood up. ¡°Go and tell here I will be there shortly.¡±

    Yenra sat in her chair, on a slightly raised dias. The difference in their heights meant that Linara still looked down at her, slightly. Rather than be annoyed at this, Yenra simply looked drained.

    ¡°I recently returned from Wellent.¡± She explained. ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive my lack of energy.¡±

    ¡°Not a problem. You¡¯ve been through a lot.¡±

    ¡°My sister¡­was very important to me. More than she should have been. More than my status, my duty. More than my husband. Maybe more than my children.¡± Linara remained silent, unsure of where this was going. ¡°I visited them first, when I got back. I thought it would make me feel better, to see them. To spend time with them. They missed me. It didn¡¯t help.¡±

    Yenra stood up, looking downward at Linara. ¡°I treated you poorly. You treated me poorly, after a time. For a time. I understand Cerise and your friend brought a change in that.¡±

    ¡°They did.¡± Linara responded, still unsure.

    Yenra stepped off the platform, and then knelt in front of Linara. ¡°I have to apologize to you.¡± She said, not looking up at Linara and missing the surprise on her face. ¡°I blamed your friend for what happened. I mistreated her. I can¡¯t apologize to her.¡±

    Linara crouched down, pulling the smaller woman to her feet. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°I exiled her.¡± Yenra said. ¡°Cerise loved her, and she did her best, but I exiled her. I said horrible things. I was wrong, but I didn¡¯t realize until too late. I did something Cerise would never want.¡±

    ¡°We all make mistakes. The situation was difficult for you.¡± Linara kept her face even. ¡°Do you know where she went?¡±

    ¡°South. I don¡¯t know anything beyond that.¡±

    Linara let out a breath. ¡°She knows how to look after herself.¡± She wasn¡¯t sure if that was true. How much would what happened affect Ferene? Would she throw herself into something and get killed? The girl had become far stronger than when Linara first met her, but an emotional state could easily lead to critical mistakes.

    Yenra shifted, then sat down on the steps leading to her chair. Linara considered for a moment, then sat down beside her. ¡°You should take things slow.¡± She said,

    The queen shook her head. ¡°It was never this way before. When my mother died. I didn¡¯t¡­it didn¡¯t last this long.¡±

    ¡°It is never the same.¡± Linara said. ¡°My family, where I grew up. There were six of us. One of my brothers and one of my sisters were both killed. That was the first time I lost anyone.¡±

    Yenra didn¡¯t respond, instead staying still, sitting next to Linara. The two women stayed silent. Linara wasn¡¯t sure what Yenra was thinking about, but felt it was better to stay with her until the queen dismissed her.

    ¡°I was scared of you.¡± She eventually said. ¡°I needed to become queen. Wellent was, slowly, falling apart. Olentor could help us, but we needed it to happen without looking weak. Without being in their debt. So Wellent would join them. So we could get what we needed without showing weakness. Without begging for help. I could become queen and order it to happen. You were there, though.¡±

    Holding back, Linara waited. ¡°He clearly loved you. I couldn¡¯t change that, even with the agreements in place. My father lied about a lot, all for our people, and I had to win him over from you. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Linara let out a short laugh. ¡°I was on your side.¡± Yenra turned to look at her. ¡°I pushed him away from me. Towards you. It hurt me. It tore me up inside, but it was better for him. I was jealous of you. That you could do for him what I never could. When I came back, I ignored all of that, and did what I wanted, regardless of what it meant for everyone else. Your sister helped me see that I was wrong. You said, before, that you saw me as an obstacle. I never was. I was simply jealous. I came back because I never stopped being jealous, even if I pretended to.¡±

    ¡°Cerise helped you.¡± Yenra said.

    ¡°She made me come to my senses, yes. Realize I was going against what I had done before, what I believed in. I never got to thank her properly.¡±

    Yenra reached out, wrapping her hand around Linara¡¯s. ¡°She was better than me.¡± Linara didn¡¯t know how to respond to that, and stayed silent. ¡°Thank you.¡± Yenra eventually said.

    ¡°I wish I could do more.¡±

    Letting go of Linara¡¯s hand, Yenra stood up. ¡°I need to find my husband.¡± She said, before walking out the door. Linara stared after her. The queen was full of surprises.

    It was a week later, late at night, when Linara was woken up by Senral. He was standing in her chambers, over her bed. Using the secret passages only he knew how to open to get around, of course.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just use the door?¡± She asked sleepily, looking up at him.

    ¡°Get up and come with me.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± She asked, following his instructions anyway. She pulled on a shirt and some loose pants, grabbing a pair of basic shoes instead of her boots.

    ¡°Something important.¡± He said, walking towards a hole in the wall next to a bookcase that wasn¡¯t there before. Linara followed, pushing her lips together. The passage was small enough that they both had to duck, bending their knees to shuffle through. Luckily it wasn¡¯t overly narrow, the walls only forcing her to keep her arms to her sides but not scraping her elbows. She could barely see in the darkness, following the sound of Senral¡¯s footsteps as he made several turns.

    ¡°Please tell me what¡¯s going on.¡± She said,

    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± He replied, opening a door inward. Lamplight fell into the passage as Senral stepped into the room. Linara went after him, emerging in Atheyara¡¯s chamber.

    The three of them were not alone.

    Atheyara lay on her bed, face-up, eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell. Beside the bed, a servant girl sat in a chair, holding-

    -holding a baby.

    Senral slowly walked forward, and the serving girl stood up, presenting the child to him. He took it, turning to Linara.

    It was a strange, wrinkly-looking blob, wrapped in cloth. But the child¡¯s skin was light brown, like Linara¡¯s. As it opened its eyes and looked upwards at her, she saw they were the same gray as Senral¡¯s. He had long, pointed, clearly Hatharen ears. She stood still, stunned. There was a buzzing in her head.

    ¡°Would you like to hold him?¡± Senral asked. ¡°You said you would be taking care of him.¡±

    Linara couldn¡¯t think, but found herself reaching outwards, and Senral gently placed the child in her arms. He looked up at her, not vocalizing at all. She found herself similarly speechless, staring down at him.

    ¡°He needs a name.¡± Senral eventually said. Linara tore her eyes away from the child to look first at Senral, then at the bed. Atheyara still slept.

    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know. Ara¡­Arta¡­Arthreas?¡± She looked down at the child in her arms, then at Senral. He smiled at her. She could feel her heart pounding.

    ¡°Arthreas. Does that mean something?¡±

    Linara looked down again, watching the child watch her. He yawned, wiggling his arms. ¡°One that can dream.¡± Linara said. ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t want him to be¡­to be held back by what my people would think of him.¡± She stumbled over her words, her heart beating faster. ¡°T-take him.¡± She held him out, and Senral took the child - Arthreas - from her. Linara stepped backwards, leaning against the wall. It was hard to breathe. She struggled to think, multiple thoughts popping into her head. ¡°I need¡­I need to go back.¡±

    Senral said something, and there was a hand on her arm. She found herself walking through the tunnel again, following¡­someone. The servant girl? She knew the way? Her arms rubbed against the walls, her head bumped the top of the passage. She was back in her room, stumbling to her bed.

    Linara grabbed a pillow, held it against her head, and screamed.

    The child had Senral¡¯s eyes and Atheyara¡¯s skin color. Atheyara¡¯s ears. Not hers. It wasn¡¯t hers. It could never be hers. She could never have a child with Senral. She had always, always hoped it might happen, despite knowing how impossible it was. She trembled, feeling her tears wetting the pillow. She screamed again. She wanted to claw her skin off, to rip her own heart out. She hated who she was, what she was. That she was cursed to live like this, to hold someone else¡¯s child and see herself in it. To be forced to feel the jealousy.

    Arthreas should have been her child. Why not? Atheyara didn¡¯t want him. She was too apathetic to even name him. Tomorrow she¡¯d be back to drawing her pictures again. The woman wanted nothing more than to ignore her body, the body that Linara wished she had. Atheyara had simply used Senral to fulfill a temporary need. She didn¡¯t care about him, she didn¡¯t care about the child. Why did she get to have it?

    Twisting, Linara sat up, putting the pillow down beside her. Atheyara didn¡¯t deserve the child. Linara did. He was hers. She already said it - she could raise him better than her people had raised her. Linara¡¯s mother had done her best, but was still part of the Hatharen. Linara was different. She was the same as Arthreas. He was more like her than he was like Atheyara. If anything, that was why he was her child. Her child with Senral. Her son. Not someone else¡¯s. She clenched her fist.

    She had been raised to fight, like all Hatharen. Her child was not a Hatharen. He did not need to learn to fight. He could live a better life than her. When he could travel, she would take him away, far away. Olentor was not a peaceful place. There were mercenaries to the west, in the independent lands. To the other and the east was the mountain wall, with monsters beyond it. To the south a war was brewing.  She could go beyond it all. To find a place to raise her son in peace.

    She stood up, looking at her spear resting against the wall. She would defend her child. Not just from harm, but from having to fight. She could take everything she had trained for and use it to protect him from having to live that life. No Hatharen mother would ever do that. Linara could, because she wasn¡¯t Hatharen. She could be better. They could both be better.

 Manager of Misfits - 4: Causing Chaos

    ¡°Tell me what you found.¡±

    Five days ago, the former company had split into three groups. Tullund had the ten Hatharen with him. Rella¡¯s group consisted of her and ten mercenaries, while Frederick and Lily had the last of the mercenaries. Today, messengers from the other two groups arrived to report in.

    ¡°Three spots near the route you suggested.¡± The messenger from Rella¡¯s group said, pointing at the small section of the map Tullund placed on the ground between them. He had used funds from Taradira to hire a scribe to make several copies of a map of the area behind Celngi¡¯s front lines. ¡°A farmstead - just a barn and a house - that the owner ran away from recently due to the war. Better than our camp back in Ettsgras.¡± He placed a pebble on the spot on the map. No additional marks were to be added to the maps.

    ¡°Second, a cliff, here. Commander thinks we could easily make our own shelter there. Don¡¯t look forward to it. Last place, partially built village. Four finished buildings, a well, and the start of several others. Looks long abandoned, no idea what caused the people to run off. Seems cozy.¡±

    Tullund looked at the three pebbles, and their proximity to the road. ¡°Split it. Have a few people set up what you need at the cliffs, but use the farm as your first base. You¡¯re going to be moving. After two strikes, pack up and move. Use the town last. I don¡¯t like the thought of it.¡± The messenger nodded, and Tullund waved him away, grabbing the three pebbles off the map before calling the next man forward.

    ¡°Old farm. House is half burned, barn is falling apart.¡± The man placed his first pebble. ¡°Town here, Lily says they hate the empire. Would hide us.¡± He placed a pebble on the town that was already marked on the map. Tullund frowned, but stayed silent. ¡°Ruins of some kind of watchtower. Ancient, overgrown, smells bad, holes in the walls, but a good roof.¡± Tullund nodded at this.

    ¡°Take the tower. Keep the town for last. Have to be careful with that, but it¡¯s a good find.¡±

    ¡°Want me to tell her you said that?¡± The messenger grinned. Tullund waved him away. After the man left, Tullund placed the first three pebbles back on the map, then dropped three of his own. A forest that the Hatharen assured him was a great place to camp, a cave that most of them had to crouch to fit inside, and an abandoned roadside tavern that went out of business years ago when the empire made a new road. His three spots were central, giving him access to two likely supply routes. Rella¡¯s group to the north was near a third, and Fredrick¡¯s to the south had a fifth likely place. They would watch for supplies and strike, stealing what they could and destroying the rest.

    ¡°Nenhal.¡± He called his new second in command over. Since his group consisted of only Hatharen, aside from him, he had promoted her. Whatever a non-official promotion was worth to someone who was never part of the military to begin with. ¡°What do you think?¡±

    The tall woman loomed over him, before she sat down, cross-legged, on the other side of the map. ¡°I wanted to help Taradira.¡±

    ¡°This will, if we do it right.¡±

    She frowned, but looked at the map. ¡°We¡¯re trapped.¡± She said after a moment.

    Keeping his smile to himself, Tullund nodded. ¡°There will be an army between us and Taradira, yes. But we are pretending we aren¡¯t friends with Taradira. We can¡¯t go that way regardless. We retreat away from the enemy.¡±

    ¡°Closer to their heart.¡±

    ¡°Closer to their people, further from their armies. There will be more forces further in, closer to their capital, but that¡¯s a big gap between.¡±

    Nenhal tilted her head, looking at the map again. The section did not show the entire territory of the Celngi empire, only the areas neighboring Ettsgras. ¡°We get further and further from help, closer and closer to more danger.¡±

    ¡°So we want to avoid retreating. If we have to run away, we go north or south and take a long route back.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s why you have them move between multiple bases. Why you have us split up. It is easier to run and hide. There is something I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t let them know where we are. We cannot regroup.¡±

    Tullund nodded, picking up the rocks and holding them in his hand. ¡°If someone gets captured, they can¡¯t tell the others where we are. This was Lily¡¯s idea, not mine. Each team will be working independently. We don¡¯t regroup. There is no group. I would have done it differently, but this is the best way to survive.¡±

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    ¡°But you know, and I know.¡± She said, tapping several of the spots on the map where the potential campsites were.

    He smiled. ¡°There is a danger there, yes. If either of us get captured, it will be bad. So I have to trust you, then.¡±

    ¡°What if they need help?¡±

    That was his fear. The three groups could not support each other. ¡°That is the risk of running an operation like this.¡± He said, looking at Nenhal. The woman stared back, then smiled. ¡°What?¡± Tullund asked.

    ¡°I am learning a lot about how humans fight.¡±

    Days later, he found the two of them sitting down again, the map in between them. This time, though, a cave was a bit too close for comfort over their heads, and the rest of the Hatharen sat nearby, or stood outside.

    Nenhal traced a road with her finger. ¡°Here, tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± Tullund asked. His second in command spent the last few days scouting, just now returning. She claimed that their first target was on the way.

    ¡°Has the colors like you said. Coming down this road. Six wagons, ten guards. That¡¯s the only road that leads to where you say they are going.¡± She smiled. ¡°This is good, right?¡±

    Tullund nodded. ¡°Six wagons is a pretty small amount for the number of soldiers they should have. As suspected, they¡¯ll be bringing in supplies from multiple places, and possibly supplementing it with whatever can be produced in the border towns.¡± He looked around, taking in the other Hatharen. ¡°So, ten guards. How many of you will be needed to take them out? No casualties. I¡¯ll be there as well.¡±

    ¡°Ambush. Six of us can do it.¡±

    ¡°Pick six of them, then. Have them ready to follow me tomorrow. You stay here with the rest.¡±

    Nenhal¡¯s eyes went wide. Tullund thought this might be the first time he saw her truly surprised and not just awed at something new. ¡°I can help.¡±

    ¡°We never both go to the same place. If something happens to me, you are in charge. If there aren¡¯t enough of you to keep going, get out. This is how humans fight.¡±

    The Hatharen looked at him, her eyebrows coming together as she focused intently on his face, but she eventually nodded.

    There was an odd sense of nostalgia as Tullund crouched low, holding his bow in one hand, staring at the road through a gap in the bushes. The six Hatharen should be nearby, but he couldn¡¯t see them. They dissolved into the lightly forested area near the road as soon as he gave the order to spread out. They were amazingly stealthy despite their size.

    Loud and large, the imperial army¡¯s wagons took up the whole width of the road, pulled by two massive horses each. The guards walked alongside at a leisurely pace, some of them laughing and joking. Relaxed. After seeing the soldiers and mercenaries in Ettsgras, Tullund knew they were not expecting any sort of attack. Their presence was a formality, a show of force to discourage common bandits, as if risking the empire¡¯s wrath wasn¡¯t enough of that.

    Larren wouldn¡¯t have pulled off an attack like this. Getting the attention of an army? Tullund could only smile. If there was anything about this plan that could fail, it was that no intelligent bandits would raid this kind of target. He raised his bow, nocking an arrow and drawing back, holding his breath, taking aim at the very first guard. As soon as he loosed, the Hatharen would strike. Three with bows and three with spears, hiding nearby.

    His arrow struck the guard in the neck, the man¡¯s laughter ending and sending everything into motion. Three other guards fell to expertly placed arrows, and the other three Hatharen appeared, almost causing Tullund to fumble his second shot. One seemed to appear right beside one of the rear guards, swiping the man¡¯s feet out from under him and dropping him to the dirt. Another fell downward, somehow having climbed the thin trees and hid their despite his bulk, hamming into the targetting soldier from above. The last simply dashed in from the side, taking out a guard that was still trying to figure out what was happening.

    Tullund and the other archers took out the remaining guards, and the three with shortspears were now making work of the drivers as they drew their weapons. . Two massive horses pulled each wagon, but the beasts stayed put, throwing their heads and making noises but not bolting. Tullund emerged, moving to the first wagon and looking inside. Bags of flour. He checked the next one, finding sacks of preserved fruit. He pushed the dead woman out of the driver¡¯s seat and climbed on.

    ¡°Get all the horses off the other wagons.¡± He pulled the reins to the side and flicked, getting the horses moving. They didn¡¯t hesitate to move off the road and pull the wagon through the heavy grass and through a gap in the sparse treeline big enough to fit the vehicle. Once far enough into the forest, Tullund pulled them to a stop and dismounted, looking at the Hatharen behind him, leading the other draft horses by hand. ¡°Get as much as you can out of the wagon and get ready to ride back. Leave the rest here. I¡¯ll be there after I take care of the road.¡± His team nodded at him and got to work.

    Going back to the first wagon, Tullund grabbed one bag of flour, hauling it out and moving to the last wagon in the line. Using his knife, he slit it open before slamming the bag down on top of the other supplies, causing dust to float into the air. Stepping back, he took one of the small torches he had brought, lit it, and tossed it into the wagon bed.

    He did this for the other wagons in the line, before finally slitting open several of the remaining bags in the first wagon, tossing them around, and then setting fire to that one as well.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t worried about burning down the whole forest?¡± A voice from behind him asked. He turned, seeing one of his Hatharen there - Farathal - looking concerned.

    ¡°Chaos is chaos.¡± Tullund said. ¡°We¡¯d better get moving in case that does happen.¡±

    Farathal shook his head, but followed orders. Two of the others were mounted, the rest of the stolen horses lined up behind them, bags tied together with rope thrown over their backs. ¡°Good job everyone,¡± Tullund told them, smiling. ¡°Let¡¯s go home.¡±

 Manager of Misfits - 5: Imperial Entanglements

    While they waited for the next shipment, Tullund took care of their spoils from the first raid. He gave one of the Hatharen directions to a spot and a time to be there by. She departed on one of the horses, the rest following in a line. A member of the group to the north would arrive at the same spot and take the horses further north, out of the empire and into the independent lands, where they could be sold. Tullund knew how to handle the big, heavy workhorses. If they somehow captured cavalry steeds, he¡¯d be less sure of what to do with them.

    They did what they could with the food, using it to spend less time away - despite their camp¡¯s distance from any settlements, hunting and foraging did increase their chances of discovery. There was no way the handful of Hatharen and Tullund could eat everything they brought back before it spoiled, but they accepted some amount of loss. As long as it was out of Celgni¡¯s hands.

    A week after the first raid, the scout came back with news of the second.

    ¡°Ten wagons and twenty guards.¡±

    Tullund frowned at the news, sitting down and rubbing his face. He had grown stubble - shaving gear was not something he packed. He moved his hand away from his face, annoyed. ¡°I¡¯ll need four archers.¡±

    Nenhal looked at him, confusion on her face. ¡°That¡¯s not enough to take out twenty. If all of us go, we can win easily.¡±

    ¡°They will be more alert now, and might have more hidden. The twenty are to send a message that they will not tolerate us and we shouldn¡¯t attack. If we do anyway, they are prepared to crush us. That¡¯s how they will operate.¡± He had spent a lot of time talking with Lily about this. She had learned a lot by listening to Alref and gave her insight into military workings.

    ¡°So what will four do?¡±

    He traced his finger along the road on the map. ¡°We hit them here. Take out four, and leave. Then we hit them again, here, and again, here. We do it all from the south side,¡± He tapped the far side of the road from their camp, ¡°and have an observer to the north. Watch what they do between each strike. When we wear them down enough, we hit them properly, take them all out.¡±

    Nenhal nodded. ¡°So three archers with you, the last observing? I¡¯ll go with you.¡±

    Tullund shook his head. ¡°I need you here.¡± He tapped a spot further back from the first ambush spot, where the caravan was coming from. ¡°If any of them turn back and head for the town, take them out.¡±

    The Hatharen frowned, but didn¡¯t object.

    Three of the soldiers fell to arrows from afar, the fourth missing. The first spot was further from cover, but Tullund had accounted for that. The soldiers rushed to the south, but his team was already moving away, out of sight. They all ran forward, and met with the observer. There didn¡¯t seem to be any hidden troops, and the wagons were steadily moving forward.

    All four arrows found their marks at the second point, and Tullund and his Hatharen archers once again faded away, leaving the guards frustrated. The observer reported that they were speeding up, and the remaining guards were spreading out further to the south.

    This only made the third hit easier. Armored soldiers walking through the underbrush were far more vulnerable to the Hatharen. Watching them move effortlessly through the trees made Tullund uncomfortable. If he didn¡¯t know better, he¡¯d believe the woods were haunted. He¡¯d hear a footstep, turn to look, and see nothing. They were on his side and he was unnerved by it.

    After the third attack, which took out five of the guards - one taken out without alerting the others - the observer reported that they had stopped, the guards pulling together and waiting. Tullund had the observer collect the force waiting further down the road, and the eight of them struck, taking out the equally spooked guards and wagon drivers. This time, he took two of the wagons off the road, had the Hatharen load up the horses, and set fire to the rest.

    ¡°The wagon we left in the woods last time is gone.¡± One of the Hatharen reported. He waved his hand.

    ¡°They¡¯re close enough to settlements that someone would find them. That¡¯s why we dump them on the wrong side of the road. If they are gone it is better for us. Let¡¯s get these horses out of here.¡±

    ¡°Time to move.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re letting this one go?¡± Nenhal asked, her eyebrows drawing together.

    Tullund nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all tired of crouching under this. I certainly am. The cavalry force following this one is not something we are going to play with. We¡¯ll be risking too much. Let the supplies reach the frontlines, this time. This amount won¡¯t make up for what they are missing from our work, and we have to hope that the others have been just as successful. We¡¯ll move up the road and hit the next one at a different spot, days away from here. If we¡¯re lucky they won¡¯t be prepared at that point and we can keep causing damage.¡±

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    His second in command tilted her head. ¡°And if not?¡±

    ¡°We pack it up and leave. Meet up with one of the other groups, double our forces, and then use that to keep going. It is up to Taradira to capitalize on the damage we do here. They say that war was finally declared, so I expect Ettsgras to be on the move.¡±

    She grew silent, turning and stepped out of the shelter into the starlight. Tullund watched her as she looked upwards, her eyes scanning the night¡¯s sky. He didn¡¯t know what Nenhal - or the rest of the Hatharen, for that matter - were thinking. They were secretive about their history and their purpose for being here, aside from wanting to learn from Linara and help her. They talked about things he didn¡¯t understand, and they didn¡¯t explain them to him when he asked, so he eventually stopped.

    ¡°Let me lead an attack.¡± She said, stepping back towards him, squatting under the stone outcrop. ¡°Just me and two others. The rest of you can move to the next camp. We¡¯ll catch up with you. We¡¯ll pick off a few.¡±

    He was about to protest, but remembered the unease he felt seeing the Hatharen move through the woods. ¡°It might make them think we are still in this area. Tired of staying behind?¡± She nodded. ¡°Then go. But make sure you hit the guards, not the cavalry. They¡¯ll probably know we spotted them, but it¡¯s better to leave a bit of doubt. They don¡¯t know our full numbers. The rest of us will get moving. This is our next stop.¡± He tapped a spot on the map - the abandoned tavern. He glanced at the other road on his map, the one to the north of their camp. Tullund and Lily both agreed that the empire might redirect the supply shipments to that road, but they hadn¡¯t. The ramping up of guards felt like a direct challenge to Tullund.

    Nenhal¡¯s raid went off without any problems, but also not much success. She reported only one confirmed kill, and the woman seemed rather upset at the fact. Some of the other Hatharen had started counting their kills, embracing the bandit lifestyle. Nenhal, it seemed, didn¡¯t like losing, and she appeared to be unaware of it. He wondered if his plan was a bad influence on the Hatharen.

    The fourth week, a fourth caravan was spotted. There were riders with it, rather than following it. Less than the previous week. Tullund figured the guards were assigned to different legs of the journey, and they had moved west enough to be attacking in a different jurisdiction. They were ready for an attack but clearly not expecting it.

    Tullund brought eight with him, Nenhal included this time. His hunch was that if he didn¡¯t take her, she would have protested. The spread out, five, Tullund included, with bows and four with spears, ready to strike. The trees were sparser here but taller, and he watched some of the Hatharen ascend them, vanishing into the branches above him. The thought of a predator larger than him lurking above gave him chills.

    Eight wagons, sixteen guards on foot, eight on horseback. Tullund took aim at one of the mounted men and loosed. The arrow punched through the light armor on his chest, and he fell from his horse. Three other men fell, and one horse fell over sideways, smashing its rider into the yoke of the two draft horses beside it. Chaos erupted in the enemy¡¯s formation, this time the pack horses squealing, pulling against their restraints.

    The four spear-wielding Hatharen attacked, materializing next to the soldiers, causing even more panic and confusion. Tullund notched, aimed, drew, and loosed. While the soldiers did their best to respond to the threat, the wagon drivers had a much worse time. One got pulled off the road and caught in a ditch, sending the horses tumbling down. The horses of the leading wagon charged down the road, even as their driver was drawing his sword to help the guards. He fell off and hit the road, rolling a few times before Tullund shot him.

    Eventually, the fighting stopped. Tullund took a deep breath, and moved onto the road. The Hatharen were ahead of him, standing in a cluster. Seven of them. Tullund hurried over, his mouth dry.

    Farathal knelt on the ground, a sword through his stomach. His hands, soaked in his own blood, grasped at the blade. Tullund watched in horror as the Hatharen pulled it out, tried to stand up, and then collapsed, going still. One of the others knelt down and tried to pull him up, but the body was completely limp.

    ¡°Farathal?¡± Nenhal asked, turning him over. ¡°Farathal?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± Tullund said. ¡°Get someone to take his body back to the camp. We¡¯ve got to take care of this mess.¡± He said, gesturing to the scene around them. He knew he was being hard, but-

    He stopped, looking at the Hatharen again. There was something more intense about the shock, the disbelief they were showing. ¡°All of you, take him and get out. I¡¯ll handle this.¡±

    Nenhal nodded, then issued orders to the rest of the Hatharen. She was slow, sluggish. The rest of them acted the same way, but they did pick up Farathal¡¯s body and move into the woods. Tullund looked at the two horses that pulled the wagon into the ditch, and put them out of their misery. He cut the others free. The warhorses of the mounted soldiers were gone. Tullund found a soldier still alive, his leg crushed by his own horse, one of his arms crushed when the runaway wagon ran over it. Nonetheless, he was pulling himself along, trying to reach a weapon.

    Tullund picked up a discarded sword and drove it through the man¡¯s back.

    ¡°Never?¡±

    ¡°Over two thousand years.¡± Nenhal responded. The Hatharen were still, silent, most not even sitting down, just awkwardly standing around the dining hall of the old tavern. Tullund tried to imagine the amount of time they were talking about.

    A Hatharen had not died in the two thousand year history of their village. Nenhal¡¯s ancestors - ancestors that were still alive today, Tullund had to remind himself, the concept alien to him - had fled from a war to be there.

    Nenhal and the others apparently hadn¡¯t fully understood that they would die in the war. Or the reality hadn¡¯t sunk in yet. Not until Farathal.

    ¡°Do you want out?¡± He asked. Taradira had dismissed him from the army, so he was in complete control here. They didn¡¯t have to stay if they didn¡¯t want to. If the Hatharen were unfit for fighting, Tullund could just rejoin one of the other groups on his own.

    Nenhal, however, stood up straight, faced him, and set her jaw. ¡°We will fight.¡±

    The rest voiced agreements, moving to stand with their leader. Tullund simply looked at them and waited.

    ¡°Our people - those that our elders abandoned - are dying to the far north. Taradira can help them. We will fight to correct the mistake our parents made.¡±

 Manager of Misfits - 6: Retaliation

    The Hatharen changed.

    Grim determination replaced their curiosity. Nenhal no longer looked at the stars at night. Tullund felt that he was watching children - who were all over a hundred years old, if not several times that - learn that death wasn¡¯t a game. While they killed before, they did not know what it meant to be killed. They were not invincible, and they knew this.

    On one hand, they took everything more seriously. They never slacked off before, but now they worked with even more efficiency, even in the most basic of tasks. On the other hand, Tullund couldn¡¯t stand it. They were focusing too hard. He could feel the anger, the tension. Something would go wrong, soon, if he didn¡¯t do something about it.

    He called them together in the main hall of the tavern.

    ¡°Other humans killed my wife. The woman I loved.¡± He told them. ¡°So I killed them back. That¡¯s how I met Ferene - she helped me kill them. Then I tried to run away from killing, but it found me again. Two of my friends died. Ferene saved me again that time.¡± He paused, looking at his audience. They watched him, confused but still serious. ¡°I joined Taradira¡¯s army because I realized that I could not run from death, from killing. Ferene once told me that in this world, people are either killers or victims. I am a killer. You are killers. We cannot escape death. We will kill others, and people we care about will die.¡±

    Only the last words got a response from, a darkening of the mood. Worry, fear. They were all thinking that it wouldn¡¯t just be Farathal - more of them wouldn¡¯t make it through this.

    Tullund pressed on. ¡°What Ferene didn¡¯t consider is that being a killer is only one small part of what she or I was. What you are. You were already killers. What happened does not need to change you. You can still learn about the world, smile, and laugh. Like you did before. Like Farathal did. You may be old but you are not experienced. Hatharen can never know loss the way a human can. Untold numbers of humans die every day. More than I can think about. We watch our loved ones die, we meet new people, grow to love them, and watch them die. We grow old and die, we grow sick and die, and we kill each other. But we keep going. We never let go of love, of joy, of the reasons to live long enough to grow old. I need you to do the same. You will have forever to deal with these feelings. You will, forever, remember your friend, miss him, and think about what you could have done differently. Humans do it for as long as we can. But we still smile, still laugh, because we are made to deal with loss.¡±

    ¡°If you want to know how humans fight, that¡¯s the most important thing to learn. Remember what your friend loved, remember him fondly. Live for him, and live for each other now. Hold on to what you have, while you can. Would he want you to change who you are?¡±

    They all stared at him, waiting, thinking. He also waited, standing, arms crossed. Eventually Nenhal stepped forward. ¡°Farathal liked sweets. He always asked the mercenaries to bring him candies, once he learned about them.¡±

    Tullund blinked. The Hatharen were nodding, the mood lightening. ¡°He was feeding one of the cats in the military camp.¡± One of the others added.

    ¡°He taught me how to climb.¡±

    They started talking about him. Their experiences. Tullund knew their society was small, but still they shared their stories. Nenhal eventually stepped away from the group, walking over to Tullund.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She told him.

    ¡°I¡¯m responsible for all of you.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°You are one of us. Even if you aren¡¯t Hatharen. Sit with us.¡±

    He nodded, and she led him back to the group.

    ¡°They are on their way.¡±

    Tullund looked at Nenhal, back early from a scouting patrol. Her face was pale. ¡°On this road? How many?¡±

    ¡°A hundred, coming from the north.¡±

    Taking a deep breath to stay calm, he addressed her, his voice level. ¡°How far away are they?¡±

    ¡°Not far behind me. A few hours.¡±

    He looked around at the old tavern. ¡°Burn it all. Take only what we need and burn the rest. All that we stole. We¡¯ll run south and meet up with Frederick¡¯s team, get our bearings. If we need to, we can double back. Once we meet up with Rella and the rest we¡¯ll escape to the north.¡±

    His scheme had hardly lasted more than a month, but he wasn¡¯t done yet. He simply had to switch to something else. That part could wait until everyone was safe. Celgni¡¯s response was swift and strong. They had given him a warning by increasing the guards, and when that hadn¡¯t worked they immediately started searching for him, to stomp him out.

    He hoped that his group had taken the majority of the focus.

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    The Hatharen set about grabbing what they could, and scattering the stolen food around. ¡°Start fires here, here, and here.¡± He pointed out three spots, to make sure the whole building went up in flames. ¡°Once it starts burning, we have to run fast, and leave no tracks.¡±

    They ran, keeping the tavern between them and where the imperials were approaching from, masking their escape as best they could. Tullund directed them to keep moving, not to look back until hours later. He sent Nenhal to scout behind them.

    ¡°They spread out and are moving slowly, searching the area thoroughly. They won¡¯t catch up to us at this rate.¡±

    Tullund nodded, getting out a map. ¡°The southern group started a lot further east. We¡¯ll move through the three planned bases, west to east, until we find them. There¡¯s also two meeting spots to check.¡± He showed a rough route, not indicating where the camps or meeting spots were. The Hatharen nodded. Putting the map away, they set out south. Nenhal walked beside him, at the back of the group. She stayed silent, simply nodding at him when he looked at her questioningly.

    ¡°Looks empty.¡± Nenhal reported, coming back from scouting the abandoned farm. ¡°Didn¡¯t see any imperials, but none of the mercenaries either.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll spend a day at a meeting spot before checking the town.¡± He said.

    Unlike the wooded area where Tullund¡¯s group harassed the supply trains, the southern roads wove through rocky hills. While it was easy to hide, moving across the roads required climbing over ridges, leaving them completely exposed. Tullund ordered multiple checks every time they crested a rise, making sure they weren¡¯t being watched.

    The meeting spot was in a small valley between two hills, perpendicular to the roads. The ground was hard and uncomfortable, though the Hatharen seemed worse off than he was. They were out of their element here - he could see it on their faces even though they didn¡¯t complain. Nenhal, who had stayed close to him the entire multi-day trip, sat down on a rock next to him.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to stick to me.¡± He told her. She stared at him, not moving.

    ¡°I want to be here.¡± She said, simply.

    He let out a sigh. ¡°Alright then. We can put someone else on lookout this time.¡± She smiled, and called two of the Hatharen over, giving them the orders. The two of them sat in silence for a time, Nenhal occasionally fidgeting, until she finally turned to him again.

    ¡°After Farathal died, you talked about losing people. I wanted to talk about them.¡±

    ¡°My wife, and then two people who took me in afterward. What do you want to know?¡±

    ¡°Whatever you want to tell me. The same way we talked about Farathal. You can talk about them.¡±

    He laughed. ¡°It¡¯s in the past.¡±

    ¡°But you keep them with you, don¡¯t you? You live for them? Isn¡¯t that what you said humans do?¡±

    ¡°My wife, Eita. She would have hated this, at first.¡± He said after thinking for a time. ¡°She was a peaceful woman. Loved gardening. We owned a farm. She would have tried to talk me out of this. Wouldn¡¯t have understood war. I could have explained it to her, and she would have reluctantly looked the other way. She couldn¡¯t agree, or even fully understand, but she would have accepted it needed to be done. To save others, people like her. Fighting a war ruins farms and crops, and burns down towns and cities. She would have seen it is better to end it quickly.¡±

    ¡°Ameila and Garvin¡­I don¡¯t know. I did not get to know them as well. It was this war that got them killed, so I¡¯d like to think they would understand why I have to do this. It¡¯s the same thing. They were people who worked the land, not killers. Not like me. I want to be able to return to that life, but I won¡¯t make the same mistake I did before. I have to be ready to fight to defend what I have.¡±

    Nenhal listened attentively, watching him. ¡°We will win. For Farathal, for Eita, for Ameila and Garvin.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°We will.¡±

    They spent the night in the valley, and then waited for half the next day, the Hatharen growing restless. At noon Tullund, when Tullund was about to move out, one of the lookouts came running down the slope. ¡°They¡¯re here.¡±

    Tullund¡¯s group moved upwards to meet the mercenaries. He saw Frederick at the front, with the loud-mouthed mercenary at his side. Nine others trailed behind.

    Lily was nowhere to be seen.

    Taking a deep breath, doing his best not to panic, Tullund stepped forward. ¡°We were just about to go look for you. What happened?¡±

    ¡°Separated. They had mercenaries of their own, and we¡¯ve been clashing with them. Four of my men, and the girl, are at the tower. We can¡¯t go back there, don¡¯t want to lead them that way. We were going to wrap around, try to throw them off with the valley. You being here is lucky, we can turn things around on them, if you¡¯re up for a fight.¡±

    ¡°How many?¡±

    ¡°Thirty.¡± Frederick said.

    Nenhal, at Tullund¡¯s side, shifted from one foot to another, eager. ¡°We¡¯ll do it, then meet up with your stragglers.¡±

    After a brief strategy meeting, the two groups sorted out the plan of attack. Tullund, Nenhal, the Hatharen archers and four of the mercenaries spread out along the ridges near the entrance to the valley. The rest of the Hatharen joined Frederick¡¯s group, forming a line and waiting.

    The enemy mercenary group approached, slowly. Tullund watched, peeking over a rocky outcrop, as they too spread out, using their superior numbers to surround the smaller group. The distribution ended up with Frederick standing in front of the same number of people he had initially, all of them - aside from Frederick himself - with weapons drawn.

    The two sides stood facing each other, wary. Celngi¡¯s group were on the alert for some kind of trap, hesitant to get closer. They weren¡¯t expecting a second force. Tullund waited until they were spread out enough before releasing an arrow at the closest enemy archer.

    The man dropped, falling from the slope he was on, tumbling down back towards his comrades, who started falling back. More arrows started flying from Tullund¡¯s other archers, and Frederick charged forward. A third of the opposing mercenaries were lost before the reorganized, but by then the numbers had turned against them. Finding himself against a proper line, Frederick fell back, allowing Tullund¡¯s archers to fire at the group, several of the remaining mercenaries dropping before the last few split and ran.

    Frederick held up a hand, stalling any chase.

    ¡°You want to let them go?¡± Tullund asked, joining the other man.

    ¡°They won¡¯t be rejoining the war. They¡¯ll probably retreat up north and try to find a new company to join. There aren¡¯t enough of them to warrant going back to their employer.¡±

 Manager of Misfits - 7: Regrouping

    ¡°Frederick.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tullund?¡±

    ¡°I thought you said those other mercenaries wouldn¡¯t be rejoining the war.¡±

    ¡°I underestimated their numbers.¡±

    The old watchtower was occupied by more of the mercenaries, and Tullund¡¯s group had come across the tracks of the fleeing group while approaching the structure. They stood on a nearby hill, observing Frederick¡¯s old base. Nenhal stood nearby, while the rest of the Hatharen and the mercenaries were on the slope behind them.

    ¡°Lily and the rest of your team are still in there? Captured?¡±

    ¡°Likely.¡±

    Tullund frowned. He had promised to protect Lily, then sent her away, despite her protests. He pushed the guilt aside, and stepped back below the top of the hill. ¡°Alright. Twenty one of us, some twenty or more of them. Less than they had before, and some of the ones that ran from us might be wounded. They¡¯re in a defensible position, and we¡¯re out here. Nenhal, Frederick, any plans?¡±

    The mercenary clicked his tongue and shrugged. Nenhal stayed silent, looking over the group. ¡°Can we lure them out at all? Or sneak in some way?¡±

    ¡°Have to wait for night, see how they handle that. It is a watchtower, so they¡¯re probably watching, if they haven¡¯t seen us already. Though, we could try to trick them into letting a few of us inside.¡±

    ¡°How would you do that?¡± Frederick asked.

    ¡°We surrender.¡± Tullund said. ¡°We say that we¡¯ll do anything to free Lily. She¡¯s not a fighter, we can make up a claim as to who she is. Someone important. It doesn¡¯t matter what she would have told them, since anyone important would try to hide their identity. There¡¯s plenty of reason to pretend someone isn¡¯t a valuable prisoner, but little reason to pretend they are one if they aren¡¯t. We can be desperate to get her back, and they have a good chance of believing us.¡±

    ¡°If I knew I had an important prisoner, I wouldn¡¯t want to give her up.¡± Frederick said.

    ¡°Yeah. But, you¡¯re a hardened mercenary. Would you give up some outside help to free your employer? Especially if your outside help was rare?¡±

    He blinked, looking at Tullund, then at Nenhal. She stared back at the two of them. ¡°I don¡¯t understand the plan.¡±

    Tullund walked next to Frederick, holding the rope wrapped around Nenhal¡¯s wrists. She led the other eight Hatharen, all of them tied to her, similarly bound. Tullund had also tied their ankles together, loosely, letting them hobble along with the group as they all approached the tower.

    ¡°That¡¯s close enough!¡± A voice yelled. Tullund looked at the stone structure, scanning the tall, thin windows, but couldn¡¯t make out anyone.

    ¡°We want to negotiate!¡± Frederick shouted back.

    There was a moment of silence, and the heavy gate at the bottom of the tower opened. A lone man stepped out, and it closed behind him. Confidently, he strode over to the group, axe in hand.

    ¡°This is not going to work.¡± Frederick whispered.

    ¡°Just do your best.¡±

    The man stopped before he got too close, just near enough to talk without needing to yell. ¡°What is there to negotiate?¡±

    ¡°You have our keeper.¡± Frederick said. ¡°Girl, doesn¡¯t know how to fight. Our employer needs her back. We¡¯ll trade for her.¡±

    ¡°She told us she was a cook.¡±

    ¡°You seen any cooking gear in there?¡± Frederick asked. ¡°Girl couldn¡¯t even soak hardtack.¡±

    The mercenary frowned, rubbing his chin. ¡°What do you have to trade?¡±

    ¡°Long-ears.¡± Frederick said, gesturing to Tullund, who pulled Nenhal forward. She struggled for a moment, and he hit her, hard, across the face.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t they fighting with you before?¡±

    ¡°Their people exiled them. Just strays we picked up. Would have sold them off when we were done with them anyway. Gullible idiots will believe anything we tell them. I¡¯m sure the empire would love a few of them to study. Give us our people, and you can have them. I need my keeper, and I don¡¯t want to leave my men behind.¡±

    ¡°Never seen a long-ear. Heard stories about them. Heard that Ettsgras has one. Wouldn¡¯t they be upset you lost yours?¡±

    ¡°We have no business with Ettsgras. Helping them would end the war faster.¡±

    Letting out a laugh, the mercenary smiled. ¡°One of those employers, eh? Makes sense you¡¯ve got a keeper.¡± He whistled, and the gate opened, ten men stepping out. ¡°Two of you come with us and get your people. Rest of you wait out here. No funny business.¡±

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    Frederick nodded, gesturing to Tullund again. The two walked forward, pulling the Hatharen behind them. The rest of the mercenaries, on both sides, watched, tense, as they made their way over.

    The negotiator, standing almost as tall as Nenhal, slapped his hand on Frederick¡¯s shoulder, causing the shorter man to stagger. ¡°Come on, get inside, collect your people. Your friends out here try anything, and we¡¯ll kill you. You try anything, and I¡¯ll crush your skull.¡± Frederick nodded.

    They were all escorted inside, Tullund occasionally glaring at Nenhal, who snarled at him a few times, but didn¡¯t struggle. Too much struggling might reveal the small knife that she held between her wrists. Several of the other Hatharen had similar tools. Only a few of Frederick¡¯s mercenaries carried knives small and thin enough to be concealed that way, so they made do with what they could.

    Once the gate was closed behind them, the large man called one of the others over and ordered him to take the new prisoners. Tullund handed the rope over, stepping away from Nenhal, who now turned her angry gaze on her new tender. ¡°Just hit her if she starts giving you trouble. They heal fast so you don¡¯t worry about being rough.¡± He suggested, and the man grinned.

    ¡°This way, you two. You can meet your keeper.¡±

    They followed the man into a second room, where Lily and five mercenaries were chained to the wall.

    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± Tullund snapped, turning to the man, who instantly hit him in the face, knocking him to the floor.

    ¡°You two idiots really just walked in here.¡± The big man laughed. Frederick stayed calm, looking at the prisoners. Tullund shifted his gaze from his attacker to Lily. Her wrists bloody wrists were chained above her head, the dark red of dried blood running down her arms. The others were in a similar state, all of them barely conscious. ¡°How stupid can you get? You think we¡¯d just give up important prisoners?¡±

    Frederick let out a yell and turned on the man. His opponent reacted fast, throwing a punch at Frederick¡¯s head. The shorter man easily blocked the attack with his forearm, and landed a kick on his opponent¡¯s kneecap. There was a sickening crunch as the man toppled. Frederick  was already spinning to meet another one of the guards. Tullund knew he was an expert in unarmed combat, but had never seen him fight for real. There was no equivalent of training swords for Frederick, he could only attack less vulnerable areas. While Tullund pulled a knife from his boot and dispatched the big man, Frederick drove his open palm into the face of another attack, sending the woman reeling back, blood flying.

    There was suddenly shouting from the other room. Tullund got to his feet just in time to meet a mercenary swinging at him with a sword. He caught it on his dagger, feeling the impact of the blow up his arm. Unlike Frederick, he was not trained to fight at this kind of disadvantage. Luckily, his partner had finished with the female mercenary, and turned to help Tullund.

    A punch to the back of the head dropped the second guard, and Frederick ran to the door, pulling it open. Tullund saw the chaos beyond as the Hatharen fought, taking their would-be captors by surprise. Turning, he moved towards the prisoners.

    Lily¡¯s chains were kept in place by a simple latch, with no lock. She simply couldn¡¯t reach up to undo the latch. Tullund opened it, carefully lowering her hands. ¡°Lily, can you hear me?¡±

    ¡°It hurts.¡±

    ¡°I know. I¡¯m here now. I¡¯m sorry. I have to free the others. Stay put.¡± Gently helping her sit on the floor, he moved to the others. Three of them he managed to get onto the floor without incident, but one fell limply into his arms, the man in a far worse state than the others, a massive bruise on one side of his face. Tullund placed him down as gently as he could before returning to Lily. He heard more sounds from the other room. Apparently the Hatharen had opened the door, letting the rest of the team inside. ¡°Lily, I¡¯m here.¡±

    ¡°The woman has the key.¡± She muttered. Tullund retrieved it from the woman¡¯s corpse and opened Lily¡¯s manacles, revealing her wrists. The blood wasn¡¯t from her own struggling, the wounds were inflicted with a knife.

    ¡°I¡¯ll find bandages.¡± He said, ¡°I have to help the others first.¡±

    After freeing the other prisoners, he stepped out into the main room. Bodies littered the floor, but none of them were the Hatharen. He saw two of them leaning against a wall, one with a massive cut down his shoulder, the other holding an arm that was clearly broken. Nenhal suddenly appeared before him, a bloody hole where her left eye should have been. She smiled at him.

    ¡°We got them all. None of them got away this time.¡±

    ¡°That was fast.¡± He said. ¡°We need medical supplies.¡±

    ¡°Over here.¡± Frederick called. ¡°One of the wagons we stole had some, so we put them all in the storeroom.¡±

    ¡°Help me out, then.¡±

    Frederick and Nenhal assisted him in grabbing bandages, but upon returning he learned that the Hatharen had no idea how to use them. Frederick called one of his mercenaries over to assist instead. ¡°They need water.¡± Tullund said. ¡°We need to get out of here, though. We¡¯ll have to carry them out. Grab some blankets as well.¡±

    ¡°We can do that.¡± Nenhal said.

    The four wounded mercenaries were easily lifted up by the Hatharen, and Nenhal gently picked up Lily. The group left the tower, finding the first place to camp that they could. When they found a good spot, they set up makeshift beds for the wounded. Lily called Tullund over, refusing to lay down, instead sitting upright.

    He crouched down next to her, and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, bursting into tears. He didn¡¯t know what to do aside from hug her, patting her back.

    The next day, they moved further away from the tower, finding another spot to camp. With food and water, the five were able to walk. The third day they started moving north, again carefully crossing the ridges near the roads. With the size of the group Tullund was even more worried about being spotted, and twice they waited for travelers to pass by before exposing themselves.

    ¡°Not a lot of people moving around.¡±

    ¡°After the second caravan we hit, people got spooked.¡± Frederick said. ¡°We didn¡¯t attack any of the commoners, but they¡¯re afraid all the same.¡±

    Tullund nodded, and had them keep moving.

    They passed through the woods without issue, far to the east of the two camps he had used to strike from with the Hatharen. Tullund was entirely unnerved as, over the days of travel, Nenhal¡¯s eye grew back, looking like nothing had ever happened to it when they reached the meeting point for Rella¡¯s group. They waited a day before Tullund had them start checking the camps, finding the mercenary captain at her second spot.

    Apparently, the northern group had very little trouble, but also very little success. After two raids, the imperials had simply stopped sending supplies by the northern roads. Tullund figured this was the reason for the larger groups moving through his area.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to end this part of the plan, then.¡± He announced, all of them standing outside the partially-built village. The mercenaries had taken to calling it stinktown, as an acidic stench permeated the area around the well. None of them were brave enough to try bringing any water up from it. ¡°We make our way north, wait things out in the independent lands - take a good break, find real beds, have some baths - and then come back.¡±

    There were nods and even a few cheers at this plan. Tullund still had plenty of ways to cause trouble for Celngi.

 Book 3 introduction: Audience

    ¡°If we declare war, we will be seen as the aggressors. The king¡¯s subjects may not like that, recruitment could suffer, and other nations will look negatively on us regardless of the outcome of the war. We must wait for Celngi to make the first move.¡±

    Across from the dark-haired, middle-aged councilman pleading patience, one of the older lords laughed. ¡°Celngi has made their move, Varnon. They have spent years inching forward, claiming towns near the border. An official rides in, says the residents now pay taxes to Celngi, that they are citizens of the empire. A bloodless takeover, but they are capturing more and more of our territory every year, and have build a number of forts inside the official border. We have waited and waited for a declaration of war, and even gathering our army here has not deterred their actions. The functional border is almost within sight of Lake Elint. How much longer will you have us wait?¡±

    A tap sounded out from one side of the room, where a short, older man sat in a chair raised above the heads of the men assembled before him, a gold crown on top of his bald head. ¡°You have made your point, Lord Targin. I believe we should let the expert on this subject speak. General Suladan?¡±

    All the eyes in the room moved to Taradira, as she stood opposite the king, hands behind her back, silently waiting, fully clad in her armor, her axe-sword at her side. Stepping forward, she cleared her throat. ¡°The king¡¯s army waits for your orders.¡±

    ¡°In your opinion, General, is it the right time to declare war? Will we win?¡±

    Taradira made a show of raising an eyebrow. ¡°We have prepared an attack plan that takes advantage of the current situation. Give the order and I will have it done. We can march all the way to the imperial capital if you wish.¡±

    Tilting his head back, King Roland Ettsgras laughed softly. ¡°There is the confidence we all know. Lords, Councilmen, we must act. Celngi¡¯s occupation of our territory must end. Marching to the capital is not needed, but a lesson must be taught. Lord Targin, how much have we lost to their tactics?¡±

    Running a hand through his red hair, the lord spoke confidently, as if he had been waiting for this question. ¡°Five small towns, one large town, and some twenty or more villages. The total population that have unwillingly become imperial citizens numbers over three thousand.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Well, General, I advance forward until you have not only liberated our people, but also six thousand imperial citizens. Go as far as you need for that, and hold the border. We will declare war first, and show Celngi a proper invasion. Do you have any objections to this, Varnon?¡±

    The younger man pressed his lips together, looking first to the man on his left, then at one of the lords across the room. ¡°No, your majesty. It is a fair and just retaliation.¡±

    ¡°Then I believe this meeting is adjourned.¡±

    Taradira remained still, waiting as the lords to her left and the councilmen to her right left the chamber. The king, who also remained seated, beckoned her over. She approached, kneeling before his throne. ¡°Come with me, Taradira. I would speak with your privately.¡±

    ¡°Of course, your majesty.¡±

    Standing, he led her to a waiting room, and sat down in a chair, gesturing for her to sit opposite him. ¡°What are the real chances of us winning this war?¡±

    ¡°Very good, especially if we are not pushing all the way to the capital. They are not prepared for a strike from the lake, and we can isolate much of their frontline. Depending on what their supplies are like, the forts may surrender easily once we do that.¡±

    ¡°This is your disruption strategy?¡±

    ¡°One suggested by a captain, yes.¡±

    The king let out a deep breath. ¡°I can only hope that the lords never find out how much of my job you do for me. You¡¯d terrify them even more than you already do.¡±

    ¡°I am merely one of your many servants, your majesty.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve known my father since he was a child, Taradira. You can tell the truth about which of us has more experience.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°I am not a person of the people. Your army respects me, but if I am giving orders to the commoners outside of wartime, there would be riots. The entire kingdom would split apart. The lords not accepting it wouldn¡¯t even matter when the people themselves revolt.¡±

    Roland waved a hand. ¡°Perhaps I overestimate you, or perhaps you underestimate yourself. You are a hero to multiple generations, a guardian of the kingdom and the people. Or an outsider. It could be either one.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Thank you for supporting me all this time. Perhaps when the current crisis is resolved, I can step down and let my son take the throne.¡± He said this last part with hesitation. The son her referred to was not his own, but the son of one of the lords, married to the king¡¯s only daughter. Taradira remained silent.

    ¡°Very well, General. Set your plans in motion. The declaration will be sent. I wish you the best of luck, though I can assume it is Celngi that will need it.¡±